Finding Your Place And Stuffing Your Face

Cooking for me is more of an experiment than a science. I tend to take what's available in the fridge and come up with my own concoction. I know flavors and what works well together so this hap-hazard approach has served me pretty well thus far. Ask me for a recipe and I'll have to rack my brain, mentally searching for the ingredients I used. It's like an episode of Chopped. What can I make with this one piece of sliced sandwich ham, a granola bar and lasagna noodles? Don't worry, that hasn't happened, yet. (I usually don't have lasagna noodles.)

My "approach" stems from a desire to use things up and to never be wasteful. I'm that person who keeps the to-go ketchup in case we run out of the good stuff. I find some sort of weird satisfaction in using something up and throwing away the remains. (That just got real #Dateline.) One of my dearest friends was dating a guy who threw out all the hot dogs and burgers after a cookout. I just stared, mouth agape, like he had just run over a tiny dog, backed up and ran over it again. I glanced at Myke and he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Somehow I got sidetracked by leftovers, experiments and guys who will never be good enough for my bestest lady friend. What I'm trying to get at is my cultural curiosity led me to make a meal with purpose AND recipes. This meant a little bit of research and a little bit of measuring. I mostly measure with my eyeballs when it comes to cooking. The Beard is the baker and Snelson is our candlestick maker.

We decided to make lehmeijun, an Armenian meat pie. We asked Snelson to sit this one out since the recipe did not call for candlesticks. (Also, he has no thumbs, which I hear is integral to cooking Armenian food.) 

Meat mixture:

1 lb ground lamb or ground beef (we used a combination of the two)
1 14-oz can whole tomatoes, drained and crushed
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely chopped
1 tsp. minced garlic
1/4 cup finely chopped parsley
1 tbsp. chopped mint leaves
1 tbsp. tomato paste
1/2 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp. black pepper

The dough:

1 package quick rising yeast
1 cup warm water
1 tbsp. olive oil
3/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. sugar
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

Now you have to read stuff, like directions and you have to follow them. I thought it might be comical to take the lead from Ikea and use stick men to tell you what happens next. I want you to like me and stick around for awhile so I changed my mind. Also, this should not be a four day process.

Go ahead and chop, chop, chop until you have all of your ingredients for the meat mixture. I recommend using those onion goggles they sell late at night on the picture tube to limit the amount of salty tears that fall into your meats. Remember, you are following a recipe, DO NOT DIVERGE.

Add everything together in a mixing bowl, you know, to mix.

Adjust the seasoning however you see fit. I guess that would mean tasting raw meat. If you're into that no one is looking. Set aside your mixture and move on to the dough.

The Beard made the dough for this recipe. Again, science, measurements and accuracy are not my strong suit. You'll need to dissolve the yeast into the warm water. Preferably these next steps should be done in a stand up mixer. The Beard used god's ultimate tools, his hands, like a man. Stir in the olive oil, sugar, salt and 1-1/2 cups of the flour. Mix the dough for about five minutes or until it looks smooth. Knead in the remaining 1-1/4 cups of flour and continue to knead until it is again a smooth texture. Continue to knead until the dough is elastic, about 10 minutes by machine, 20 minutes by hand, 3 days by foot.

 

Form the dough into a ball and cover with a large bowl for 1-1/2 hours. This will allow the dough to rise and double in volume.

Get ready to work through your issues by punching down the dough. Then make nice and shape it into twelve or so balls. Flour your surface and roll each ball into a six to seven inch circle. You don't want to make them too thin.

Arrange the flattened dough onto a lightly greased baking sheet and allow to rise slightly. Cover the surface with a thin layer of the meat mixture.

I put on a scarf so this picture wasn't entirely inappropriate.

 Bake your beauties in a 375 degree oven for 25 to 35 minutes. THEN, put them in your mouth hole.

So there you have it, Armenian lehmeijun. I'm looking forward to sharing a few more recipes in the upcoming days. That'll give you some time to grow in a uni-brow and to digest your first culinary creation. Wait, maybe that's just me. Until then...