Tag: James Cameron

The month of December is almost always associated with the “holiday spirit,” or the endorsed overconsumption of certain foods, beverages, and hopelessly useless items that tantalized us from store windows. It should have been easy for Rachel and I to come up with a clever idea for this weeks’ culinary endeavor, yet we were at a loss when our editor suggested that we write a piece centered around Hanukkah. As two gentiles, our knowledge of Hanukkah was limited to a few simple facts: there is a menorah, eight days of gift giving and dreidel spinning. Thus we decided to ask a few of our fellow frosh to provide us with some insight into the culinary traditions of the holiday.

After attending the Hanukkah celebration in the Olin lobby, where jelly-filled doughnuts were making the rounds, we sat down with Emma Weizenbaum ’14 and Andrew Cohen ’14 to talk about traditional foods eaten during Hanukkah.

“Basically anything using grease or oil,” Cohen said.

After we stared at him questioningly, he explained that it represents the miracle of oil. Both agreed that Hanukkah is not really a holiday that is known for the food, but there are two foods that are eight-day essentials: sufganiots and latkes. For those of us unfamiliar with these two fantastic fried foods, a sufganiot is a jelly-filled doughnut, and a latke is a potato pancake.

Since frying can be quite the hassle in a frosh kitchen, and oftentimes leaves a lingering smell, both of these recipes are rather tricky. Most likely no one is going to want to slave over a jelly doughnut when Dunkin’ Donuts is just a short walk away on Main Street, so latkes are probably the best bet for this culinary endeavor. They are fairly easy to make; however, be prepared to use your oil generously. We would personally recommend peanut oil because it doesn’t burn at high temperatures, but some other suitable alternatives are canola, sunflower, and corn oil. We also feel it is our duty as encouragers of holiday culinary experimentation to warn frosh cooks to beware when they are using hot oil.

“I was sitting around the kitchen table watching my gentile friends attempt to make latkes,” Cohen told us. “They seemed to be having a delightful time until the oil began to spit and hiss, causing the group to scatter throughout the house. I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time.”

Weizenbaum, on the other hand, recounted a less violent holiday story.

“Some of my favorite Hanukkah memories come from watching my non-Jewish friends trying to spin a dreidel,” she said. “Some of them actually got the hang of it, but it took them a while.”

To add some spice to your recipe, she suggested eating your latkes with homemade ginger applesauce.

“Use fresh grated ginger for the best flavor,” she said.

Since most of us do not keep a spare grater lying around, the best way to do this is by “borrowing” a cafeteria knife and using the serrated edge to shred bits of ginger. If this seems too tedious, you can simply buy some powdered ginger available at Weshop. Rachel and I wish you the best of luck on your cooking adventures and Happy Hanukkah to all. Love, your favorite shiksas.

Apart from “I had a little dreidel” and the menorah, Hanukkah doesn’t provide as many great traditions or songs as Christmas does. Let me admit it upfront: I’m Jewish, but I love Christmas. It took coming to college to realize how great decorating a tree was (my mom never let us have a “Hanukkah bush”), how heartwarming Frank Sinatra’s Christmas album is, and I still can’t wait to make eggnog and popcorn strings. Yet, arguably the best part of the holiday season lies within an oil filled skillet.

Every year on the first night of Hanukkah the smells of frying onions, garlic and potatoes drifts through my house reminding me why it really is so important to have a holiday honoring that damn miracle oil. Latkes are the Hanukkah miracle reproduced in deep-fried edible form.

In my house, latkes are my dad’s terrain. Every year he breaks out his food processor, the pounds of potatoes dug up from our garden, and a basketful of onions and garlic. He makes enough latkes to last us for dinner and lunch the next few days so we can make our friends envious in the cafeteria. One year my mom tried to make latkes with only a few tablespoons of oil and ended up with floppy brown pancakes. As my dad says, there is no such thing as a low-fat latke. Embrace the oil, grate the potatoes and recreate the Hanukkah miracle in your own kitchen.

This is my dad’s recipe that I wrote down when I was a freshman and tried to replicate his latkes in the Butts’ kitchen. As you know if you have ever been to a Hanukkah party and sampled the many different varieties of latkes, everyone has their own formula for making the potato pancakes. These ones are pretty garlicky and crispy. It takes a few times to get the consistency of the latkes right so they aren’t too runny or too fat, but once you get the hang of it you can make a whole plateful that will satisfy all your Hanukkah cravings.

Ingredients

3 lb Potatoes

1 lb Onions

– This should be a 3:1 ratio, so if you don’t have a scale try to eyeball it.

Several cloves Garlic

Salt

Pepper

Flour

2 eggs

Vegetable oil

-Wash potatoes and grate them. This can either be done with a food processor or a hand cheese grater for us college kids without kitchen appliances.

-Salt the potatoes adequately (they should be covered) and let them sit for 15 minutes. Squeeze out the excess water.

-Dice the onions or grate the onions and squeeze the water out. Sauté the onions and add the diced garlic.

-Mix the potatoes and the onions. Stir in the two eggs. Add pepper. Add 1/2 cup of flour so it sticks together, but not too much.

-Put oil in a pan on medium high. Let the oil get hot. Form potato balls, about a small handful, and place in the plan and flatten with a spatula. Flip them over when they are brownish on the bottom.

-Place them on sheets of paper towel to soak up extra oil.

-Eat with applesauce or sour cream!

Hanukkah may be the festival of lights, but these delicious ricotta cheese blintzes are anything but. Any Jewish kid can tell you about the original olive oil that miraculously fueled the eternal flame at the temple in Jerusalem – trust me, these ‘lil guys will fuel you for just as long! So ditch Usdan brunch one morning this weekend (that pesto omelet will still be there next time…pinkie swear). Holidays are about togetherness, and this recipe feeds four and takes teamwork; you’ll want a blintz-buddy to fill and fold as each pancake is finished.

These blintzes are from Chef Robin Leventhal of Seattle bistro Crave. And while they may not be my mother’s blintzes, just look at that last name – they’re legit.

Ingredients for the sweet cheese filling:

1 tub ricotta (it’s by the milk in Weshop)

2 egg yolks

2 tablespoons flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (and some grated zest if you’re a lemon fiend)

Ingredients for the crepes:

3 large eggs

6 tablespoons milk

6 tablespoons water

3/4 cup flour (Bob’s Red Mill is sold at Weshop, organic and unbleached)

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

pinch of salt

1 tablespoon canola oil, plus a ‘lil more for greasing the skillet

2 tablespoons butter, divided

To serve:

Applesauce/sour cream/apricot jam

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Now, make the filling first so when the crepes start coming out the skillet, your blintz assembly line is ready to go. Mix together the ricotta, egg yolks, flour, sugar, vanilla, and lemon juice in a bowl and give it a stir. Set aside.

2. For the crepes: in a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, and water. Add the flour gradually, then sugar, vanilla, salt, and oil. Now, in the words of MJ, “It doesn’t matter who’s wrong or who’s right, just beat it, beat it.” Oil a non-stick skillet and heat on the stove. If it starts smoking, you’re doing it wrong.

3. Ladle ¼ cup of batter into the skillet and tilt so it covers the bottom of the skillet. Next step: fry. It’s done when little teensy air bubbles form and the top is set. The underside should be golden brown. Take a knife and loosen around the edges of the crepe, sliding it out of the skillet onto a plate. Grease and repeat.

4. As you’re frying the crepes, your blintz-buddy should turn each crepe so the golden-brown side is up and scoop three tablespoons of filling into the middle, in an uber-precise 3-inch-long by 2-inch-wide mound according to Crave’s recipe. (If you don’t get those cheesy dimensions just right, you’re screwed). Now stop – origami time! Use the burrito technique: roll once to cover filling, fold the sides into the middle, and keep rolling until completely closed. Just like a burrito, you’ll be tempted to overstuff. Don’t.

5. Second to last step! Over medium heat, melt one of your tablespoons of butter and add half the blintzes. Fry ‘til they’re golden-brown—about two minutes—and then flip to fry the other side. Place on a greased baking sheet. Do the same thing with the other guys and stick them all in the oven. Bake for about five to 10 minutes and…..

6. FINAL STEP….NOM with apple sauce and/or sour cream! My favorite topping is apricot jam. If brunch looks weirdly empty this weekend, I hope it’s cuz y’all are making blintzes, whether you celebrate Hanukkah or not!

The time has finally come for one of the most delicious, gluttonous, tryptophan-soaked holiday meals ever to grace the planet. This week, novice chefs will be presented with their greatest challenge yet: to cook a complete thanksgiving meal straight from the dorm kitchen. Keeping with the general quirkiness that defines Wesleyan, Ellie and I present to you a vegetarian Thanksgiving dinner (much to Ellie, the Midwestern meat-eater’s chagrin).

In place of turkey, Ellie and I opted for sage lentil loaf topped with mushroom gravy, accompanied by creamy mashed potatoes and two different pies. Fair warning to frosh cooks: be ready to spend a generous amount of points on this meal. In the communal spirit of the Thanksgiving holiday, share the cost burden of the ingredients for this meal with your fellow hall-mates, friends, and casual classroom acquaintances. And remember to share the laughter and good food that abounds when you and your frosh family come together in this cooking experience.

Sage Lentil Loaf

Begin the sage lentil masterpiece by bringing three cups of dried green lentils to a boil. Allow them to simmer on a side burner for thirty minutes or until they are soft. Drain in a colander and dump into a large bowl.

Now comes the time to truly get your hands dirty, but first, be a responsible frosh—cook and thoroughly scrub all the ink, lead, and unidentifiable smudges off your hands. Grind the lentils between your fingers and palms until they become paste-like, enjoying the tactile experience while you do so. Then add two tablespoons of sage, one-fourth cup tomato puree, one tablespoon of salt, and one-fourth cup minced parsley.

On the side, assign one pilgrim to grate two large carrots and another to dice a medium onion. Sauté both along with one cup of diced button mushrooms in a medium saucepan with a dash of olive oil. Once the mushrooms, onions and carrots have become soft and have begun to brown, dump all the contents of the saucepan into the big bowl containing the lentils.

Repeat the same cathartic mashing experience until all ingredients have blended together to perfection. Grease a 9×13 inch-baking pan and transplant the lentil conglomerate into it. Bake for thirty minutes at three hundred and fifty degrees. When ten minutes remain, sprinkle some crushed walnuts onto the lentil loaf for a nice, crunchy topping.

Mushroom Gravy

As delicious as the sage lentil loaf may seem by itself, its flavor can be further amplified to head-exploding heights if topped with homemade mushroom gravy. Begin the gravy by sautéing a half cup of diced onions in one-fourth cup canola oil and one-fourth cup toasted sesame oil. As Weshop does not carry the latter ingredient, this holiday treat does require cooks to make the trek down to the local Middletown Rite Aid and search through the aisles for this specific oil.

Anyways, once the onions have become crispy brown on the edges and have begun to elicit tears from all cooks in the cramped frosh kitchen, toss in one cup of sliced button mushrooms and one teaspoon pepper. Continue sautéing until the mushrooms have become soft and have blended nicely with the diced onions.

Finish off the gravy with three cups of water and one half cup of soy sauce. Bring the gravy to a low simmer, cover the pot and allow the ingredients to blend into each other to create the ultimate vegetarian gravy. Once the gravy has reached the desired thickness, pour over the warm sage lentil loaf and gorge yourselves fully.

Mashed Potatoes

The creamy mashed potatoes are fun and simple. All you will need is a large pot and as many potatoes as your frosh friends can consume. Because Ellie and I are such big fans of culinary experimentation, we have provided you with several different combinations to make the most delectable creamy mashed potatoes.

Butter and milk are fundamental elements, but some other suggestions are cream cheese, sour cream and, if you are feeling truly adventurous, add in some of those slightly overpriced cheeses located in the Weshop freezers. Throw in each ingredient as you smash the warm potatoes, tasting as you go until desired cheesiness, creaminess, or general mashededness has been achieved.

You can also sprinkle in a little sage left over from the lentil loaf or some rosemary to give the potatoes a unique flavor. As for the mashing itself, a two words: be creative.

Pie

However full you may feel after this glorious meal, there is always room for pie. Pie is an essential part of the Thanksgiving tradition and should be enjoyed before, during or, if you can resist the temptation, after the meal.

Since the main course catered to the needs of our vegetarian compatriots, Ellie decided to bring a touch of Hoosier goodness to top off the meal. Two delicious pies that are a specialty back home in Indiana are apple pie and sugar cream pie. Although these pies may not be the first to come to mind when thinking of Thanksgiving, they are simple to make and good to eat.

To make the sugar cream pie, you simply need a good piecrust, sugar, heavy whipping cream, butter, vanilla, eggs, a little flour and some nutmeg for the garnish.  If this sounds like too much sweet for you, nothing beats warm apple pie. Take about twelve medium apples, it’s okay if they’re slightly bruised, from the Usdan stockpile to start, then acquire the rest of your ingredients: cinnamon, nutmeg, heavy cream, sugar, and lemon juice. You will also need two piecrusts. A little time saving tip; if available, Pillsbury piecrusts are excellent for this apple pie recipe. Bon Appetit and Happy Thanksgiving!

Butternut squash is a big deal in South Africa. It could safely be called our national vegetable. At home, my family eats some kind of butternut squash about two or three times a week. This isn’t even counting “Take–away Tuesdays” when we get take-aways (you guys call it take-out) from one of our favorite neighborhood pizzerias, all of which have their own take on butternut pizza.

Pizza can be hard to make in a crappy dorm kitchen (cough, cough, Westco’s . . . the oven door handle fell off in my hand when I tried to bake a cake there last year), but I promise it’s worth the effort. And there’s no shame in using pre-made pizza dough from Weshop.

Transfer crust to a lightly greased cookie tray dusted with cornmeal (don’t sweat if you don’t have any, you can use flour). Spread with tomato paste and your delicious toppings and bake in preheated oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until golden brown. Let pizza cool for five minutes before serving.

Toppingz

Three variations for three different butternut pizzas:

1) “The Butternutter” (my personal favorite) requires:

*1-2 onions

* Garlic (your call how much)

*1/2 a butternut squash

* Grated mozzarella cheese (again, you decide the quantity)

* Some kind of sweet chili sauce (essential!!)

Prep: Cut the butternut squash in half and cut off the skin and get rid of the seeds. Cut one of the halves into half-inch cubes and use the other half for something else. Toss with some olive oil and oregano and bake on a cookie tray in a 350°F oven for 30 min (I’m making up this number—cook for however long it takes for them to cook all the way through and get a lil’ mushy). You can definitely do this ahead of time.

Chop the onions and caramelize in a pan with the chopped garlic.

Swoosh the onions and cheese across your pizza base, then dot with the butternut cubes (you can cut them smaller if you like).

After your pizza comes out of the oven, drizzle with sweet chili sauce and NOM.

2) The next variation comes from this amazing organic vegetarian take-out place in Cape Town. For this, you need all the ingredients for the Butternutter above except the sweet chilli sauce. Add:

*A handful of spinach

*Some ricotta cheese

*A tomato or two, sliced

Prep: Do the same thang with the butternut, onions and mozzarella cheese as for the Butternutter. Dot some ricotta around and arrange the sliced tomatoes on top so it’s all pretty. About halfway through baking, sprinkle the spinach on top so it doesn’t get too wilted.

3) This last one, I proudly invented at about age ten.

Again, you need all the Butternutter ingredients minus the sweet chili sauce and onions. Plus:

*Parmesan cheese (not pre-grated cuz you’re gonna be classy and shave it. Ooh!)

*Some basil pesto.

Prep: Swoosh the pesto on first, then add the butternut and mozzarella cheese. Bake it and just before you serve, get classy: sprinkle Parmesan shavings all over the top.

These have nothing to do with Thanksgiving. Neither do pegacorns (Google it), but would you say no to a pegacorn just because it was Thanksgiving? Exactly.  So, just like you probably don’t have enough winged awesomeness in your life, you probably don’t have enough apricot or cardamom.  And if you do, good job! In any case, these are easy—easier than pumpkin pie made with a Pillsbury (you know who you are and shame on you) crust. Also baking these will make up for all the times you went to the snack table in Usdan, and in place of the magical jar of chocolate granola, you saw dried apricots and wanted to cry. Now you can just be like, “Ha! apricots, you think you’re so slick trying to be lame and trail mix-y and posing on people’s salads.” And then you can dice them, douse them in cardamom, and be thankful. There. Thanksgiving, yay.

Apricot Cardamom Shortbread

Adapted from Martha Stewart

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

3/4 cup confectioners’ sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling

¼ teaspoon ground cardamom

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup well chopped dried apricots

Directions

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.

Put butter, confectioners’ sugar, vanilla, flour, cardamom, and salt in large mixing bowl. Stir well with a wooden spoon until mixture is combined but not too creamy.

Stir in dried apricots.

Turn out dough onto a piece of plastic wrap, and pat to flatten into a disk.

Refrigerate for an hour.

Transfer dough to a lightly floured surface, and roll out to 1/4 inch thick (a jar works fine for this, because who has a rolling pin in college). If dough starts to get too soft, place in the freezer or refrigerator a few minutes. Cut out shapes, as desired, and place on prepared baking sheet about 1 inch apart.

Bake until golden, 12 to 15 minutes. Remove from oven, and transfer cookies to a wire rack to cool. Cookies will keep up to five days at room temperature in an airtight container.

Every recipe incorporates some element of authority and command; indeed, recipes in general might even be described as Cecilia Lawless has argued, as “founded on a series of commands.” The terms and the extent of a reader’s submission will vary from recipe to recipe, or across different kinds of recipes, but always implicitly, and occasionally explicitly, recipes have something to say not only about food, but also about power and control.

Here is a recipe that is quick, easy to prepare, and requires only a Foreman grill, (or something similar), or which can be made stovetop. Perhaps its best feature, however, is that most of the main ingredients may be substituted with whatever else is available.  This recipe says, I hope, that the power of decision rests with the cook. Substitute as you like; change as you will….
In part because the dish is so simple, it is important to use the best and freshest ingredients possible.

Ingredients:

(Serves 3-4)
12 large, uncooked shrimp, peeled and deveined
12 slices thinly sliced hot capicola (Italian cold cut)
12 leaves of basil
salt & pepper to taste
1 lemon
fresh garlic, minced, to taste
olive oil

Notes:  Capicola may be substituted with prosciutto, ham, or bacon. Basil may be substituted with mint, sage, or bay leaves. I’ve also replaced the basil with slices of provolone cheese.

Directions

-Mix olive oil and juice from lemon in a bowl. Add salt & pepper and minced garlic. Add shrimp and refrigerate for one hour.

-Preheat grill to high heat. Remove shrimp from marinade, and wrap each shrimp with one slice of capicola. Then wrap again with one slice of basil.

-Thread shrimp on skewers.

-Place skewers on preheated, oiled grill. Cook for approximately four minutes, turning once, or until opaque.

When people think of farms, they usually picture neat rows of vegetables or picturesque red barns with spotted cows grazing from the pasture. Yet the growing “localvore” movement has led to an increase in an often forgotten farming community: the local beef farmers. America’s obsession with meat has fed a huge industrial beef market consisting of 33.3 million cows last year with an estimated retail value of $73 billion. For one of my classes, I’m working on a group project on Connecticut pasture-raised beef farms, so this past Monday we took a trip to a local farm that started selling meat at the Wesleyan Farmers Market this year.

Four Mile River Farm is run by Nunzio and Irene Corsino in Old Lyme, Conn., about a half hour away from campus. On Monday, we found Nunzio and five other people working in a converted garage processing three steers, or male bovines. They had been up since 5 a.m. chopping, slicing and packaging the different types of meat. Every Monday, they process meat to keep up with the ever-increasing demand that comes from across Connecticut, including restaurants such as River Tavern and Firebox as well as the University of Connecticut and farmers’ markets around the area.

Nunzio explained to us the delicate process of slicing a steer into different cuts of meat ready to be sold. He sends his steers when they are around two years old to a slaughterhouse in Rhode Island and they are returned to the farm hung and quartered. The main operator, Dave, has worked in this industry his whole life, and recently retired from another processing unit. He works once a week to help pass on his skills to Nunzio’s operation.

“They aren’t the kind of skills you can learn in a school or university,” Nunzio said. “You have to learn them through doing, and Dave is the best in his field.”

Dave sliced the hind leg of a steer into different cuts of meat, while Nunzio named the different types: tenderloin, porterhouse, T-bone, New York strip. He pointed out the brisket and the pieces of bone that many chefs use as a base in soups. The ribs are cut into short ribs and prime ribs for different markets. The extra cuttings are tossed into a meat grinder and are sold in five-pound bags as ground beef.

At larger industrial farms, a man like Dave doesn’t manually cut a steer and instead the process is a lot sloppier with many cuts of meat are not sliced as finely. The ground beef you can buy at store like Stop & Shop is not from a steer, but from an old heifer who has stopped milking. That’s why the beef is chewier and less flavorful. If you sampled the burgers at the outdoor Wesleyan Farmers Market last week, you were able to try some of Nunzio’s prized ground beef, which he sells for upwards of ———–six dollars per pound.

“It’s a dying art,” Nunzio explained. “You are paying for what you get. You are paying for quality.”

Nunzio raises his cows at a scenic farm located five miles down the road from the processing barn at his house. He currently has about 50 steers, although he is continuously buying animals from auctions and sending them to the slaughterhouse. His animals are pasture-raised in the summer and feed on hay and corn silage in the winter.

“Grass-fed steers don’t get enough protein,” Nunzio said. “Normally when you hear of grass-fed beef they are really being fed different types of greens like legumes and soy, not just grass.”

Nunzio explained how hard it is to keep up with the high demand for local meat right now. With Thanksgiving right around the corner, he and his staff have been working harder than ever to fill orders. Look for them next Wednesday when the Farmers’ Market moves indoors to fulfill your steak and hamburger cravings.

I can remember back to the days of yore—or rather, first grade—when a loaf of stale bread translated to ammunition to hurl at Kai as he walked past my house after school. For the record, Kai made fun of my butterfly hairclips. A lot. Now that I’m older and wiser, I have other, far more delicious, (though admittedly slightly less entertaining), uses for any remaining crusty loaves. Meet bread pudding, and to give a nice “Yeah, I go to school in New England, but no, not in Vermont, but whatever, close enough” feel to it, add maple syrup. Bread pudding is also highly adaptable for people like me who find measuring cups cloying, because it’s just bread soaking up sugar and custard and then tasting bomb in your mouth.  So rustle up your Eco To-Go container, hit up Usdan, get some cinnamon raisin bread and bagels, let them get nice and stale, (Miller Lite radio ads anyone?—Google it if you don’t know what I’m talking about), and you’re ready to go. P.S. If you’re weird and happen to not like this, feel free to hurl it at anyone who makes fun of any butterfly hairclips that you may or may not still have.

Maple Raisin Bread Pudding

Adapted from Natalie’s Killer Cuisine
yield: one 10×10 baking pan

6-7 cups stale cinnamon raisin bread and/or bagels, cut in 1 inch cubes
1 1/2 cups milk
3 eggs
1 cup sugar
1 cup brown sugar
1 tbsp. vanilla extract

1/4 cup maple syrup
1 tsp. cinnamon
preheat oven to 375 degrees

1. Cut bread in large cubes and set aside.

2. In a large bowl, combine all other ingredients.

3. Pour liquid over the bread. Gently toss until the bread is coated.

4. Prepare a baking dish with butter or pan spray and pour bread mixture on top. Bake for 35-45 minutes or until sides pull away from the pan. Let cool at least 20 minutes before cutting.

I more or less invented this dish based off of different recipes that were on Japanese TV shows. I like to eat this when I’m in the mood for a bit of Italian but not too much Italian. It’s really easy to cook, so when I’m feeling lazy, this is my go-to. It also uses only one pot so there are fewer dishes to wash.

4 Italian tomatoes

2 zucchini or ½ eggplant

2 potatoes

200 grams sliced beef

1 or 2 cloves garlic

2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. sugar

3 tbsp. ketchup

3 cups water

olive oil to cook with

-Cut tomatoes into pieces, slice the zucchini and chop the potatoes into small pieces. Chop the beef into bite-sized pieces. Dice the garlic.

-Pour some olive oil in the pot and stir fry the garlic until you smell the flavor. Put the beef in the pot and stir-fry until the color changes.

-Put all the vegetables in and stir-fry until all the vegetables are coated in oil. Add the salt, sugar, ketchup, and water in the pot.

-Cover with a lid and cook for ten minutes on medium-low. Stir occasionally.

-After ten minutes, check the pot. If it’s not too watery, then it’s done.