Not just here for the food

Pampered Chef cheese knife. Unsolicited plug.

If I have access to a kitchen while on vacation, I try to do a little cooking.

When driving, this is pretty easy. I at least bring a sharp chef’s knife, one that has a custom sheath so it’s safer to travel with, and a handy-dandy cheese knife I bought from Pampered Chef. I also have a chili-kit-to-go: a large, cheap stockpot that has a small cutting board inside and room for my knives.

I have whipped up chili in a tiny alcove of a kitchen in a converted motor court in Alpine after a trip to the dollar store for a $7 pot and the IGA supermarket. I’ve cooked ribeyes in a city park while watching a herd of deer pass by at sunset.

It’s kind of a point of pride to make do with what’s available and produce a tasty meal.

But this time, we flew to our destination. Not only was I worried about airline restrictions on luggage weight, I didn’t want to attract any attention from TSA screeners by packing even one sharp knife in my suitcase.

I’ve learned a few things this go ’round.

Before I headed for the grocery store, I scoped out the kitchen. I made sure there was at least one knife, a few pots and pans, dishes, utensils and salt and pepper. Or so I thought.

There was a container of salt on the shelf, but it was empty. I made do with a little bit of seasoned salt that was probably mostly MSG, but in reality the low-sodium chicken broth sufficed.

I did buy a small box of 20 storage bags, but I really could have used some foil.

Some tips:

Look for a natural-foods store, which is more likely than other supermarkets to have bulk-food bins. This is helpful, not for buying in bulk, but just the opposite. I was able to purchase about a half-cup of good olive oil, all I’d need, without having to waste any or leave good ingredients behind. Same with rice, beans, pasta, herbs and spices.

Look for ways to use the same ingredients in different ways. My two onions and five carrots, eight slices of bacon and one head of garlic got used in at least three different dishes — but nothing tasted the same.

With limited cookware, consider one-pot meals. Plan your plating ahead, if you can, to suit the available plates, bowls and flatware.

Buy a bottle of wine to cook with that you wouldn’t mind drinking. That way, you can drink any leftovers.

Do you have any suggestions for cooking while on the road? I’d love to hear them, so please comment below.

Determined not to spend all my time cooking, I went ahead and made my beef dish while I was cooking the chicken.

As soon as I finished searing the chicken, I added eight small beef short ribs to the

Kitchen in The Phoenix, where we'll spend one night on vacation.

cast-iron skillet. Those I browned on all sides before removing them and setting them aside.

To the skillet, I added butter, a little olive oil and two large shallots sliced thin. I sauteed the shallots until translucent.

I sliced several large carrots into batonnets and cooked them in boiling water until just tender. I chopped up six of the eight slices of bacon that I had rendered for the fat.

To an ovenproof casserole dish, I added the short ribs, shallots,  carrots and bacon. I added half a bottle of zinfandel and some chicken broth. I put it in a 325 degree oven for a couple of hours. I let it cool to room temperature, then placed everything in a large bowl, covered it and refrigerated it overnight.

The next day, I dumped the ribs and vegetables into the now-cleaned Dutch oven and added the other half of the bottle of wine. I turned up the heat, brought everything to a boil, then turned it way down to let it simmer for a few more hours until the meat was tender and, yes, falling off the bone. Most of this time I kept the pot uncovered to allow the sauce to reduce.

I cut the new potatoes into quarters and cooked them in water and chicken broth in a much too small saucepan. When they were tender — I stuck them with a fork — I drained them. I melted some butter in the too small pot and started breaking up the potatoes with the fork. When the butter was just starting to turn brown, I poured it into the potatoes and continued to mash with a fork. Then I added several dollops of whole-milk yogurt because I neglected to buy milk or cream.

I served the ribs on top of the mashed potatoes in those shallow soup bowls. We both had seconds.

We still have chicken and short rib leftovers, plus some rice and mashed potatoes. I also cooked a small pot of beans — those pretty red-and-white speckled ones — with a chopped slice of bacon, some chopped onion, some chicken broth, a pinch of New Mexico red chile I found in the cabinet and water.

(And, in case you’re counting, I ate one slice of the bacon yesterday. For quality control testing purposes.)

Tomorrow, I can make a brown rice and bean dish with some of the local salsa we bought. I also have enough leftovers to make a chicken and rice soup. The ribs will probably get warmed up and eaten as is, with maybe some more of that toasted bread to sop up the gravy.

I’ll get at least six meals out of one cooking session. I spent about an hour and a half prepping the ingredients. I did use some convenience products: chicken parts, a box of chicken broth, grated parmesan.

Considering meals at restaurants here in Taos have been running about $30 for two, plus tip, spending $100 at the grocery and a couple of hours cooking has been well worth it.

It also was important for me to get a feel for cooking in an Earthship where one has to be mindful of energy and water use. But that’s a whole ‘nother post.

We’re on vacation, but staying in a home.

While the promotional materials call the ktichens “equipped,” I’m guessing most folks who stay here don’t do any kind of serious cooking. The mis-matched dishes are, of course, someone’s discards and the cookware is of the cheap dollar-store variety.

Constrained by luggage weight limits on flights, I left all my chef toys — including a sharp knife — at home. I was determined to make do with what was available.

The first day we made an exploratory run to the local natural-foods store in Taos.

Having sussed out the kitchen and Cid’s, I took a shopping list the next day: chicken thighs, a little olive oil from the bulk department, the smallest bottle of balsamic vinegar I could buy, butter, some kind of beef to braise, carrots, onions, garlic, shallots, parm, brown rice, organic low-sodium chicken broth, dried beans, roasted tomatoes from the olive bar and baby spinach.

My plan was to do a braised chicken dish with brown rice, a beef stew or similar and soup from whatever leftovers I had.

The only “extras” I picked up were eight slices of uncured, smoked bacon and a small bag of small red potatoes. I’d also need to stop at the liquor store for a bottle each of red and white wine.

The best surprise was a 10-inch cast-iron skillet I found in the kitchen cabinet. That would become my searing pan. It was a little dried out but cooking the bacon in it first fixed that.

Setting the bacon aside and draining off most of the fat to save for future use, I threw a few big cloves of garlic in the pan, then the chicken. I ended up with the last two bone-in thighs at the market, plus four drumsticks.

I seared the chicken until brown and the skin was crispy, then set it aside. In the Dutch oven, I added a little of the reserved bacon drippings and a dollop of olive oil.

Once the fat was hot, I added one huge onion, slivered, and turned the heat down to low. Once the onions were translucent, I added a few cloves of garlic, the chicken thighs and drumsticks, a third of the box of chicken stock, a bottle of Chardonnay and a couple of shakes from the bottle of dried mixed Italian herbs I found on the shelf.

In a separate small saucepan, I cooked a julienned carrot in boiling water just until tender then drained them and added the carrots to the chicken.

Meanwhile, I sauteed about a cup of raw, sprouted brown rice in some butter. When it started smelling nutty, I added chicken stock and water to make about three cups of cooking liquid. I covered the pot and let it cook for about 45 minutes. I turned off the heat, drained some excess liquid and fluffed the rice with a fork. I returned the cover to the pan and set it aside until serving time.

I let the chicken simmer on very low heat in the Dutch oven for a couple of hours, until the meat was very tender. When it was about time to eat, I fished the chicken and vegetables out of the broth with a slotted spoon and set it aside in a big bowl.

Then I boiled the remaining liquid until reduced by about half. I turned down the heat and added a couple of splashes of balsamic vinegar and started adding small bits of softened butter, stirring as it melted into the sauce. That’s mounting the sauce with butter, if you want to get technical.

I added the chicken and vegetables back into the pot. I served the dish in a shallow soup bowl by spooning in some rice, then adding a thigh and drumstick on top, with vegetables and sauce.

Since we’d bought some good sourdough bread in Santa Fe at Sage, I sliced some, buttered it and put it into a skillet to toast. I flipped it, then sprinkled with grated parmesan cheese.

It was pretty good, despite the elderly ground pepper and lack of salt.

Lesson learned: Buy a small amount of salt and some peppercorns from the bulk section. Really, the only thing I would have changed about the meal.