Rye bread + rutabaga

It turns out that when I am stressed, I cook really weird combinations of really weird foods. Tonight I made quinoa with cheddar cheese, rutabaga–carrot purée, and Swedish rye bread.

On my way home I was contemplating what to make for dinner, and I was like, haha, I should go get a rutabaga and finish that stupid experiment. Then I was like, well … I guess I will go get a rutabaga. I procrastinated for a while at home because I desperately wanted something warm and bready immediately, so I looked up whole-wheat and/or rye biscuit recipes, and then ended up finding the recipe for Swedish rye bread when I googled quick rye bread. It’s a quick bread (no yeast), but not sweet. I also pretty much picked the first rutabaga recipe I found on Epicurious because I wanted something edible, i.e. not just roasted vegetables (which were good the first night but unappetizing subsequently). The quinoa was just to round things out. The bread wasn’t really part of dinner, it just happened.

So. I went to the wax turnip area of the supermarket, and discovered that the wax turnips all weighed like 2.52 pounds. But then I dug around a bit and discovered some much smaller, different-looking wax turnips beneath the giant ones. These weighed less. Obviously. So I put two in my basket and went about the rest of my shopping. (Things got dicey when I spotted a jar of almond butter for $11.99. And there were no regular almonds in the rest of the store. But I didn’t buy them. And now I want almond butter desperately again.)

At the checkout counter, several things happened:
1. The woman put all my groceries in plastic bags while I wasn’t looking, so I ended up uselessly and awkwardly holding my cloth bag and feeling irritated and environmentally unfriendly.
2. She rang the rutagabas up as white (haha, rutagabas) turnips. At first I was like, oh, they are three times the price, I should say something. I didn’t, because my throat still hurts (I’m sick) and I can only hear out of one ear (I’m sick). Then I was like, noooooo, what if they REALLY WERE TURNIPS?!?!!? So that was upsetting.

What are these?!?!?

I got home and googled rutabagas and wax turnips, and I’m now reasonably confident that the things I bought are rutabagas. I don’t understand the ridiculous difference in size, though. It’s bizarre. Maybe the larger ones were just mutants. These are yellow on the inside, though, whereas turnips are white, in my experience.

So I peeled and diced the hopefully rutabagas and carrots while heating up salted water in my smallest pot, because my large pot was in the sink. Then I ladled the diced veggies into the boiling water and all hell broke loose; water sloshed everywhere, the burners went out, and when I tried to turn them back on there was some ominous sparking from all four burners. I was like, I don’t want to die in pursuit of rutabaga. Eventually I got the back burner to turn on. The vegetables boiled.

This wasn’t the most exciting thing the fire did. At its moments of heightened activity I was somewhat busy doing other things.

Meanwhile, quinoa was cooking in a rice cooker because I had no pots left. This part wasn’t interesting and is the last I will say about it.

I began to measure my rye flour because I wasn’t sure I still had 2 1/2 cups. (I was halving the recipe because I only have one person, and one loaf pan.) I did have 2 1/2 cups. I don’t know why I told that part of the story. I guess because it happened. I put the rest of the ingredients together, including caraway seeds, despite the recipe’s stricture of caraway seeds; I thought they would remind me of rye and thus make the whole bread taste more like rye. (Oh, and the recipe actually mentions cumin seeds. I discovered today that cumin seeds and caraway seeds look identical, but I believe they are different.) (And I just discovered that the caraway things are not seeds, they’re fruit!) (Oh my God, Wikipedia’s page about cumin has a section on References in Popular Culture.)

I preheated the oven. My apartment became ridiculously hot. I was supposed to “beat” the wet and dry ingredients together for a while, so I mixed a bit and then stopped because the oven had finished preheating. I sort of squashed the “dough” into the pan and was like, this cannot possibly be right. I tried to smooth the top out a bit. (I actually still have no idea if I did this right, so I cannot be an authority on this recipe. The final product didn’t provide much of a clue.)

…?

The bread went in the oven and I decided the vegetables were done. I drained them using my splatter guard, added butter, brown sugar, and salt, and stuck my immersion blender into the pot. My immersion blender said, hellllll no. I kept at it and eventually things got blent, but it took a while and there were some disgusting squelching noises involved.

I ate surprisingly tasty rutabaga mash and cheesy quinoa.

The bread eventually came out of the oven. It still looks really weird and I’m not sure the texture is right, but I think I like it. The caraway seeds just make it feel like rye to me. Being unable to hear almost makes me feel like I can’t quite taste, either. I feel like I’m living inside my brain, so nothing that happens in the world outside is quite distinct.

Oh and I made really lazy chicken noodle soup yesterday when I was sick. Here it is.

Includes egg noodles and dill.

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5 thoughts on “Rye bread + rutabaga

  1. The true definition of “really lazy chicken noodle soup” is “pour can of Campbell’s into pot (or microwave-safe bowl), heat” so I’m sure yours was only moderately lazy. I hope you are feeling better!

  2. PS My oven sucks and I made undercooked chocolate chip cookies last night and was too tired to turn the oven back on and bake them more. I am now about to taste test them. If I die of salmonella remember me.

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