Chipotle Chicken and Apple Pizza

Pizza with apples is both surprisingly tasty and also a daring “rule breaker,” like when you were a kid and made a sandwich out of wheat bread and Fritos and it brought you closer to God.

I’m a crazy Christmas whore.  At least that’s what you might label me if you were a mean person.  And even if you did, I’d be okay with that.  I’m no stranger to being called names, you know.  In fact, regularly in elementary school, mean kids would scratch out the R’s in both my first and last name on my lunch bag, then turn the “N” into a “K,” transforming me from Gary Green into “Gay Geek.”  Once this happened the first time and scored riotous laughs all across the dodgeball circle, they continued with a frequency rivaled only by the amount of times they’d wipe their noses on their sleeves.   And they didn’t stop there.  They also called me “Gary Green Bean” “Gary Green Eggs and Ham,” “Gary Gary the Human Fairy,” and my personal favorite, “Faggot!”

Kids really can be cruel, but if I was pressed to admit it, I really don’t see much of a difference between “Faggot” and “Crazy Christmas Whore,” so in this particular case the kids I went to school with were less cruel than they were right on the money.  Even as a full grown man it would be hard for me to argue it, as just today I was sharing with friends at Pinkberry how I had been dieting for a week so I’d look good for the premiere of The Bachelor. Meanwhile in my head, I was silently booking thirty minutes later in the day to stand in front of the mirror and see what I’d look like with my hair parted on the left instead of the right.  Let’s be honest… a Crazy Christmas Whore is just a Faggot who’s out of season.

I’m almost positive I’m a giant grump outside the month of December. For the rest of the year if you took a shot at reading the sentiment I was presenting on my face, you’d come up with only three options: “I’m not interested in hearing more from you,” “Why the hell would we do that?” or, “Well well well, look who thinks she’s God’s gift to Starbucks.”

Of course, I’ve never gone so far as to ask anyone if I’m coming off as tyrannical and disagreeable as I think, though sometimes MG calls me out for being unpleasant when we’re somewhere in public.  If I’m pretty sure he’s going to pick up the check, I agree with him.  We Gay Geeks are always thinking ahead like that.

But I’m most definitely someone you want to know in December.  I might even say hello to you before you can do it to me.  And if I’ve managed to get in at least a good eight hours of sleep the night before, it’s possible I’ll allow you to tell me what you think is currently interesting about your life and the lives of those with whom you interact.  And If I managed to squeeze in a few episodes of Dallas on DVD on top of getting those eight hours of sleep, I could go so far as to advise you to have a “nice rest of your day” while I give you a bold “I’m not afraid to physically connect” graze across your shoulder.  Yep, in December I’m a real cuddle bug.
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Season of the Cookie: Chocolate Raspberry Oatmeal Cookies

These rich, decadent cookies filled with chocolate chips, oatmeal and hints of raspberry are sure to be the first to disappear at that Christmas party you don’t really want to attend, except for the fact that it’s a way to score some kissy points with your boss and you’ll get to show off that new cashmere sweater.  If you see me there, come say hello.  I’ll be the one furthest away from the bar.

Ninety-five days ago, I stopped drinking booze.  For those of you like me, who share the unfortunate deformity of a hand shaped exactly like the perfect martini holder, that translates into 2,280 achy, grumpy hours without alcohol.  I just figured that math out myself and it terrifies me almost to the point of spontaneous flop sweat.  I haven’t done anything consistently for 2,280 hours except perhaps blink, denigrate commercial pitch people and hum the theme to TV’s Dallas in my head.

I boxed up my entire bar library, descended four floors to my building’s management office and gave it all to my landlady, Bonnie: Gin, Rum, Kahlua, Fernet, Saki, Homemade Blueberry Vodka, Vermouth, Galliano, Creme de Mur, Irish Cream, Goldschläger, cocktail shakers, olive spears and tiki time toothpicks. After picking her downhome Southern jaw up off the ground, Bonnie managed to alert me to the following: ”Shoot, I’m gonna be humping with my carpet come tomorrow morning!”

My nightly cocktails have been replaced with a combination of club soda and Torani flavored syrup.  I had been drinking it for close to a week before MG informed me that there was an actual name for it:  The Italian soda.  I often serve them up in martini glasses, as a de-fanged nod to my riskier past, much in the same way those Revolutionary war re-enactors fire blanks at each other and go to the bathroom in Andy Gump toilet rentals instead of buckets and pig troughs.

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Peach and Basil Pizza

This morning on my way to getting coffee, I passed a giant display for Marlboro’s “Dream Big” contest.  I immediately thought to myself, “They’ve discovered a way for me to achieve my biggest dreams WHILE nursing an unhealthy addiction?  F**K yeah!  Where’s the saw for my right arm?”

I would have pursued it further, but the Marlboro website requires you to sign up for entry. And ever since I’ve given up cigarettes, I find I don’t really have the energy to finish things I start.  But that didn’t stop me from looking back over my life and recalling the larger-than-life dreams I once held as a young person… back when anything was still possible, we learned all we needed about safety from a police parrot, and AYDS was just a diet candy!

Come on… let’s hold hands and take a walk down Memory Lane.  A rich, creamy, juicy peach and basil pizza awaits us, along with all kinds of “Gary Green’s dreams” that evaporated amidst more unpleasantness than NBC’s ill-conceived Emeril Lagasse sitcom.

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Season of the Cookie: Peanut Butter Whoopie Pies – VIDEO

Also known as “gobs,” “bobs” “black-and-whites” and “BFO’S” (Big Fat Oreos), the whoopie pie is the official “state treat” of Maine.  These cakey cookies exploding with buttercream have never had their origins fully explained, though most attribute it to Pennsylvania Dutch country.

My sister Jodi and I recently had an all-day marathon cookie making session that included carrot cake cookies (see them here), chocolate mint sandwich cookies (here), and these peanut butter whoopie pies.  Working side by side, we quickly reverted to the traditional roles we held growing up within the structure of the Green family.  She transformed into the bossy taskmaster who knows better than everyone else, while I became the whiney “mistake child” who resorts to raising his voice and cutting other people off in an effort to have his opinion respected.  If you don’t believe me, check out the VIDEO PROOF below.

The combination of my sister’s and my family-fostered dysfunction and rampant insecurities appears to have worked wonders!  By the end of the day we had something along the lines of 300 cookies cooling on dishes and parchment paper slices all over my home.  And they all turned out pretty spectacular, plus we were still speaking to one another. There was a brief “missing acrylic fingernail” panic, but what kitchen experience is complete without one of those? Continue reading “Season of the Cookie: Peanut Butter Whoopie Pies – VIDEO” »

Simple Hummus Recipe

What is tahini?  What’s the difference between chickpeas and garbanzo beans? Here’s everything you ever wanted to know about how to make hummus at home (but were afraid to ask).

If you’re under the impression that hummus is too rich and flavorful to be easily made in your kitchen, allow me to dispell that myth for you right here and now.  I, too hesitated for years when it came to whipping up a bowl of this creamy Middle Eastern dip for MG and myself to enjoy.

Could it be that I was intimidated by the food’s foreign origins?  Was I fearful of the unfamiliar ingredient that is tahini?

Knowing me, the truth is I probably just couldn’t bring myself to trust that something so densely rich and flavorful could be made in under five minutes using only ingredients I already had sitting around in my kitchen (save for one).

This is because I always have to believe that everything worthwhile has got to be harder than it actually is.  I’m constantly amazed at how simple a wonderful thing can be.

I don’t know my blood type, but I’m laying 10 to 1 odds it’s probably “B Negative.”

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Season of the Cookie: Carrot Cake Cookies

Billows of gooey cream cheese frosting sandwiched between two moist cookies bursting with oatmeal, carrots and raisins.  Meet the official Tv Food and Drink Halloween cookies for 2011.

I haven’t even begun to think about what I might dress up as for Halloween this year, and seeing as it’s only five days away, I don’t intend to start now.  There’s no point in denying that as a result of bad planning and a embarrassingly short attention span I’ve wandered yet again into that shameful realm known as the “Halloween Scramble Zone.”  You know… that place where people come together and bravely try to justify the merits of such supremely lame and last-minute costumes as, “Hobo,” “Hippie,” “Cat” and “Toilet Paper Mummy.”

Yes, I’m talking to you too, “Guy in Bathrobe,” “Working Out Girl,” and “Truck Driver.”

If you are going to dress up for Halloween, you have to put some pizazz and some planning into it.  At the very least, you must give it the old college try.  And no, that doesn’t mean you can go to your neighbor’s party in a cap and gown with a rolled up piece of sheet music you tore out of your little sister’s recital book.  That’s lame too.

Don’t stick a knife through a box of Cocoa Pebbles.  That doesn’t make you a “Cereal Killer.”

“Sexy Librarian” is no longer distinguishable from “Sarah Palin.”  Neither gets you laid anymore.

And just because it’s October 31st, wearing dirty clothes and no shoes so you can be “Homeless Guy” still qualifies you as a Prime Time Emmy-Winning Douche Canoe.

I’ll take a moment to address these knock-out cookies, though come on… is there anything else you really need to know?  The words “carrot cake” are in their name.  You can see the creamy frosting oozing out of the middle.  These are sweet, chewy, eye-poppingly decadent, and they will make you the star of any Halloween party.

As for you… guy in trench coat with black socks standing next to dude with the “This IS my costume!” t-shirt.  You can just move along to the orange-colored Rice Krispie Treats.

There’ll be no cookies for you.

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Season of the Cookie: Chocolate Mint Sandwich Cookies

Thin Mints are now relics of your past. THIS is the cookie recipe girl scouts will kill to keep out of your hands!

Forget what The Bossa Nova favorite, “Once I Loved” tells you.  I am here to testify that love is in fact not the saddest thing when it goes away.  A plate of these chocolate mint sandwiches disappearing is far far worse.  It’s enough to send me to the bottom of the swimming pool in my apartment courtyard, sucking my thumb and desperately holding on to a lead teddy bear.

Think “chocolate covered mint Oreos” and you’re pretty much on board.

Here is that phenomenal cookie that will keep you up at night, as it quietly calls your name from that easily infiltrated plastic dessert container on your kitchen counter.  You know… the one you have every intention of taking with you to work the next day because you truly mean to share these sinfully rich cookies – gooey on the outside, crispy on the inside, and a rich chocolaty peppermint center – with your co-workers.

But really, is that actually going to happen?  What have your lousy co-workers really done for you?  A sheet cake with your name misspelled for your birthday and a Darth Vader Get Well card when you were sick (“I sense a disturbance in the force!”).

Fuck ‘em.

Share these with nobody.  And I guarantee that at least one of these cookies you end up eating while your pajamas are on.

Season of the Cookie, 2011 is now officially open here at Tv Food and Drink!  Stop back now through the end of the year for lots and lots of new cookie suggestions, pics and recipes to enjoy!

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Mushroom Marsala with Artichoke Hearts

Looking for some guidance on how to best prepare mushrooms? Give this rich, decadent pasta dish a try. As much fun to make as it is to enjoy!

I have not eaten a mushroom since I was nine and my mom tricked me into eating one, telling me it was just “a bean.” Standing in the kitchen near the stove where she was making dinner, chewing with an intesne curiosity, I was actually enjoying the damn thing (somewhat). Then, she revealed to me that the bean was actually a cremini mushroom at which point, I lept to the sink, spit it out and declared my total disgust and feelings of betrayal in the most dramatic way I could possibly fashion.  Having watched a lot of Dallas as a kid, I’m sure I really managed to sell it.

Were these NOT the same things that occasionally grew on the corners of our front lawn? Were these NOT the same things dad warned me away from because of their possibly poisonous nature?

Was my mother out to kill me?

Well no, in fact, they were NOT the same things as the possibly toxic (but probably not) varieties making homes out front the house. And I quickly understood that. But divorcing myself from a distatse, an almost irrational fear of the mushroom, has taken me decades.

I pick them off pizza. I fish them out of salads. And pack anything you damn well want into the caps, heat them up and drop them in front of me. I’ll suck on my sneaker instead.

And yet… I could not get this recipe out of my head. Maybe a mushroom on its own didn’t sound all that hot, but mushrooms with wine, pasta, cheese, and onions? This is something a spore-bearing fungus hater might be able to get behind.

Mom has often told me I was missing the boat on mushrooms. This patsa dish looked and sounded so rewarding that maybe, I thought to myself, just maybe, this would be the meal that could lead me to welcoming mushrooms into my kitchen on a regular basis.

And it was! Moms always know.

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