I hate toaster ovens.
Growing up, they were used definitely more than the big-girl oven (which maybe saw action two days a year). My mother LOVES her toaster oven, to the point where she needs my help turning on the big-girl oven those two days a year.
But I remember the experience that got me to toss my toaster oven and not replace it.
My ex’s father was a hoarder–A&E series finale hoarder. I don’t say this lightly–he was mentally ill. He hoarded toiletries, food (which he would buy on sale once it had turned…necessary since he also hoarded money), and various other things I promised my ex I’d never share. His house had paths 3-6 feet tall, I wasn’t “allowed” in the basement because those paths were “slightly treacherous”, and within 20 minutes of arriving my voice would drop two octaves and my eyes would water from the dust. The last time I saw the man who I thought would be my (first?) father-in-law, he asked me sincerely and with a straight face how many times I used a piece of floss before throwing it out (the answer he was looking for was NOT, by the way, “once”. Also, this man was a retired dentist!!!).
Anyway the one and only time he spent the money to come down to visit his son, he stayed at my place (#guestroom #nohotelbill). And talk about awkward–because, of course, my guy couldn’t stay over too since we weren’t married. In terms of showing him the town where we’d spent the last five years…we had to limit it to walks, since that was the only thing that was free. No dinners out or brewery tours. No trips to museums or concert venues. That all costs money, and is totally unnecessary. We unsuccessfully tried to buy some steaks at the grocery store and cook a nice at-home family meal. Nope. Instead, he decided that he would fend for himself food-wise.
So one night he bought himself a package of chicken drumsticks; they were, of course, past their date and on seriously deep discount. He then made his own marinade from items in my pantry of honey, mustard, and ketchup. Next he placed the chicken–without any sort of lining or spray–directly onto the tray of my toaster oven and cooked them at 450*F for an hour and a half.
I understand his need to have his meat beyond well-done. When you buy food that even a prison wouldn’t serve, you need to literally cook the sh** out of it. I highly doubt, though, any grocery store would sell fowl so foul it *needed* to be cooked like that. Lawsuit waiting to happen.
The countertop and the cabinets above my toaster oven were getting so warm we had to actually move the toaster oven while this arson practice-run was underway. That’s right: surfaces surrounding the appliance were becoming hot to the touch. And the smell…it was burned, turned meat doused with syrupy condiments. The honey, honestly, was the worst, in part because the man hadn’t lined the tray or sprayed anything.
On that. I couldn’t use that tray again. It had to be tossed. You couldn’t chip off that caked-on honey and ketchup mixture with a jackhammer. It took me a week to air out my kitchen, and my toaster oven never recovered. It too was later tossed. My guy knew it had been ruined, and was (understandably) embarrassed by his father. And he was my guy, and it was his dad, and I was trying so hard not to make any kind of deal of out it. The father, of course, didn’t think/realize anything was wrong with anything–not that I’m convinced he’d shell out money to replace something he’d broken anyway. It was just a mess.
What is my point in this? Well, first, this recipe was made on Thanksgiving, in the same big-girl oven as the turkey (and in the time it took for the turkey to “rest”). However, it should have been made in a toaster oven. A big-girl oven spread things out too much–there was way too much surface area. A secondary problem? The roasting times. Brussels sprouts take a while to roast–and you have to do SOMETHING drastic like roast them just to make them edible. Bacon, while making everything taste better, has a lower cooking point. Just like the disastrous chicken drumsticks, the bacon was burned to a crisp. And there’s no getting around that. There is an undeniable flaw in this recipe (sorry, Food52).
And yet, despite the char, and the mental wrap-around of consuming black food, this wasn’t that bad. It’s so not bad I’m blogging about it, put it that way.
Tweak at will, but enjoy.
BRUSSELS SPROUTS WITH CRANBERRY SAUCE
INGREDIENTS:
- Brussels sprouts
- Bacon
- Olive oil
- Salt, kosher
- Green onion
- Ancho chile (if you don’t have that…I’d recommend paprika and coriander mix. This is smoky and lemony in taste if you haven’t had it before).
- Balsamic
- Cranberry sauce (I used the stuff my mother was going to serve with turkey)
INSTRUCTIONS:
- It’s hard to clean Brussels, but try. Remove the exterior most leaves, and half or quarter. Make uniform in size.
- Douse in olive oil, kosher salt, green onion, and chile.
- Chop up bacon and add that to the mix.
- Roast for 15 minutes at 450*F.
- While sprouts are roasting, take some balsamic (barely enough to coat a saucepan) and start reducing it. Add the cranberry sauce when the balsamic is cooking so much your eyes are burning (appetizing, I know, and no joke either).
- Keep the glaze warm. When the sprouts are done, pour the glaze over. Stir, and serve.
I promise, it tastes better than it looks.
The Truly Educated Never Graduate 