Since I’ve started this culinary quest, certain meals have just been ruined for me forever. Well, they aren’t exactly meals so much as cardboard-packaged frozen food items I used to pick up in the freezer section because I didn’t know how to do much more than boil water and run the microwave at its most basic level.
Nevertheless… Jose Ole, White Castle, CPK, Lean Cuisine and the entire Hot Pocket clan… we had some good times together, didn’t we? And if I had known it was all going to come to such an abrupt end, I would have savored our time together more. Remember as we waited anxiously to see if Ross and Rachel would ever get together? And how you were always there to nurse me through the weeks when 21 Jump Street was about the Vietnamese guy and not Johnny Depp? You stood by me during the Z. Cavarrici phase, the colored hair mousse months, and the George Michael dangling cross earring, and this is the thanks you get… total abandonment!
I rarely even stop in the freezer aisles anymore, which can make things tough when it’s late at night and the hunger hits. No fast fixes in my kitchen anymore. In fact, MG and I didn’t sit down to this meal until after 10 in the evening because it took close to an hour to make it from chopping and combining to searing and simmering, but my god it IS true that good things come to those who wait. These are not just burgers, these are events. Soaked in thick creamy sauce and accompanied by homemade fries right out of the oven. Eating it later only meant going to bed sooner with partying tummies and satisfied grins on our faces.
Sometimes when you combine live television, a non-screened home caller selected at random, and one of the easiest trivia questions possible, you get pure magic. Please watch Heidi Bohay and Bob Guiney desperately try to get through the rest of the segment during GSN Live’s Mardi Gras show last week.
Posted 2 weeks, 2 days ago at 1:02 pm. Add a comment
In honor of the Winter Olympics (Wayne Gretzky waiting for those columns to rise… oh my, the nerves… he looked like someone tied his hands behind his back and dropped a snake down his pants) and in defiance of my complete disdain for all things soup, I present this cold creamy tangy triumph!
Yes, I hate soup. It has always been, as far as I’m concerned, a waste of a good mealtime. And yes, in the face of this, there’s always some die-hard broth-head who has had some kind of crazy soup in their past they swear will convert me. “Oh!” they exclaim, “you’d love a potato leak chowder with sliced almonds and an essence of baby’s breath!” No I wouldn’t.
“Oh!” they ask, “have you ever had a hearty tomato lentil soup with grated salmon tail?” No, I haven’t.
“Oh!” they implore, “you simply must try my Aunt Annie’s plomeek soup with candied celery ribs and vulcan meat.” No, I mustn’t.
Frankly, I’d rather go see that movie that came out last year about the killer orphan who was actually – spoiler alert – a grown woman with hooker dwarf syndrome. – than eat soup as a whole meal. In fact I’d rather have hooker dwarf syndrome than eat soup as a whole meal. Maybe a little tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich when I’m sick with a cold, but THAT IS IT!
So why exactly did I decide to make chilled cucumber soup? It isn’t really in honor of the Winter Olympics, though I’m told we are doing quite well. And it wasn’t because I was trying to wow MG because he was at home making puppets. And I don’t have any British people coming to visit. I guess the only reason I decided to make it was because the picture in the Gordon Ramsay book looked sophisticated and impressive, and I was feeling some sort of inadequacy I needed to overcome, and English cucumbers are cheaper than Paxil.
Where I was waking up at the crack of dawn over the weekend, I’ve been sleeping 10-12 hours a night since then. Maybe it’s the cornbread. Heavy, cheesy and satisfying, this was a fantastic addition not only to the turkey chili I slow-cooked alongside it, but also with breakfasts, lunches and dinners through the following week.
I discovered that cornbread goes well with just about everything. Cornbread goes well with coffee. Cornbread goes well with pork chops, cornbread goes well with reruns of Knots Landing, What’s My Line? and Alias. Cornbread goes well with Smitten Kitchen perusing. Cornbread goes well with watching Qucik Wits live in the booth. Cornbread goes well with watching DIY Network or Gay Porn? with Marc Bartolomeo and Jason Cameron. Cornbread goes good with The Joy Behar Show. Cornbread goes good with an extra slice of cornbread!
What did I do before cornbread? Yet another recipe I originally feared but eventually mastered. Took a bit of the day, but well worth it. By contrast, the turkey chili recipe is pretty minimal, but I just scored a recipe for a more complicated “Cincinnati Chili” from my freind Eric that I hope to tackle this weekend. There’s nothing better for Valentine’s Day that a crock pot full of heartburn! Recipes follow after the jump! Continue Reading…
Posted 3 weeks, 5 days ago at 2:27 pm. Add a comment
MG is sick and I’m depressed about it. I know I’m depressed because I’m exhibiting my #1 symptom… I become super-productive on the weekends.
This is an improvement over what I did in my twenties when I was depressed, which was smoke grass, drink martinis and watch television until I either fell asleep or threw up.
Ah, the glamour of the twenties!
So I don’t plan too many structured events on the weekends anymore because they’ve become mostly about me and MG making fattening breakfasts, having coffee at The Big Fixx on Sunset (formerly Abbot’s Habit), watching television together and seeing who can win in the categories of “Snarkiest Comment,” “Best Impression of a Loser Celebrity.” and “Most Accurate Representation of What the Cat in the Cat Food Commercial would Sound Like if It Could Speak Human.”
Then we separate for a few hours in the middle of the day so he can get some work done, I’ll get together everything I need to make the night’s dinner, and we reconvene for more television, snarky comments and cocktails.
But none of that happened this past weekend, and by noon on Saturday I’d done all my grocery shopping, all my laundry, hit the post office and the dry cleaner, worked out, erased said workout by stopping at Carl’s Jr., tried to get my cat to eat a french fry and took a nap.
I had absolutely nothing else on my “to do” list for the entire weekend, so of course I spent it in the kitchen, making this meal, along with some other goodies that are being banked away for later postings. But MG wasn’t there to admire my kitchen technique, or rave about the finished meal after snaring his usual lion-sized portion, so it wasn’t nearly as gratifying and I have WAY TOO MUCH left over.
With each passing kitchen attempt I’m becoming more and more fascinated with perfecting the process than I am with actually feasting on the finished result. I’d much prefer to give the food itself over to someone else for them to enjoy, and just stay in the kitchen and tackle the next recipe on my long long list. Anyone else feel that way?
If I understand every bit of instruction in a recipe the very first time I read it, chances are I’m going to have little or no interest in making it.
This week, I stuck my baby toe into the puff pastry pool and learned two new terms: scoring and docking. As usual, I assumed because these two tasks have been assigned terms all their own, they were going to be much too hard for me to manage, and as usual, I was wrong.
And of course, because I still get kitchen jitters, I bought double the ingredients necessary so that I could first make “rehearsal pastries,” which turned out alright, but not as good as the pictures you see here, which feature Tomato and Goat Cheese Tarts V2.0. The rehearsal pastries came out flakey, tangy, buttery and all-over delicious, but I didn’t like the ratio of pastry to filling dictated by the recipe, so I adjusted it in V2.0
Tomato and Goat Cheese Tarts from Barefoot Contessa
Me to MG: “You and I… we were pigs last night!”
MG (confused) to Me: “We were? We only ate one pizza.”
If I had made a second one of these, there still would not have been any left over. If we had had to share this single pizza with a third party, MG and I would have gone to bed with little pouty frowns on our faces. MG and I are pure-blooded pizza pigs.
I will admit right here and now that aside from being a pure-blooded pizza pig, I am also a closet Boboli pre-made pizza crust purchaser. For the amount of homemade pizza we consume, it’s just the way it has to be. I have made pizza dough from scratch to moderately successful results, and even experimented with the pre-made dough from Trader Joes. I don’t bother anymore. The crust is just the delivery device for everything on top of it as far as I’m concerned. Protest me if you want. Or, better yet, send me some kick-ass pizza crust recipe that you think is divine enough to change my mind by clicking right here. I always welcome suggestions.
The fun of pizza-making is striking that perfect balance between vegetables, sauce, cheeses and meat, and I’m happy to say that I’ve run this recipe through the oven two weeks in a row and it’s pretty damn solid. It will certainly put any local delivery spot you may have pinned up on your refrigerator to shame. Please click on the pics below for big-screen full-res images.
Any tips or hints on my never-ending quest to perfect the pizza pie? E-mail me or leave a comment below. Have a great weekend!
Ultimate Sausage Pizza
pizza dough or store-bought crust of your choice
1 can (15 oz) canned tomatoes, diced
1/2 white onion chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, chopped
1/2 yellow bell pepper, chopped
1/2 green bell pepper. chopped
1 small Roma tomato
1 – 1 1/2 mild Italian sausages, uncooked
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup shredded Havarti cheese with dill
1/2 cup shredded Reggianito cheese
1-2 large basil leaves
oregano
pepper
olive oil
cornmeal (optional)
Spread cornmeal over your pizza pan to keep your crust from sticking. This also helps to keep the crust from getting overly-crunchy. Lay out your dough or pre-bought crust and coat lightly with the olive oil. Add the diced tomatoes and spread evenly, then the vegetables and 75% of your cheeses. Break apart your uncooked sausage into pieces and spread across the top. Slice your Roma tomato and then halve each slice and place. Tear basil leaves into small pieces and spread across the top. Add oregano and pepper to taste, and spread the remaining cheese over the top. Cook for 13-17 minutes.
I never thought this blog would include the words “Avril” or “Lavigne,” but here she is, guest-judging in L.A., fresh from entertaining the kiddies at the Maurice Sendak family park. Thanks for that, Avril!
And we’re starting off right away with useless filler coated in a slight psychotic glaze. They make up more than half the population here, you know.
Wait! Is that Mrs. Garrett? Oh. It’s just Neil Goldstein. First, he sucks. Next, he takes up the obligatory cry of the quasi-determined by crying out, “This is MY dream. I’m not going ANYWHERE.” And then… he leaves.
Thanks for that, Neal. And yes… this was the entire first segment of the show. Thanks for that, Fox!
As I write this entry, I’m listening to the song Blame it on the Rain by Milli Vanilli.
You remember those guys… Rob and Fab.
I’m at a loss for a fun story to go along with this recipe. Here’s the dull reality: cherries were on sale at my Rock and Roll Ralphs and I bought way more than I’ll ever be able to nibble away before they go bad. I went looking for a recipe, found the only one that interested me at Smitten Kitchen, made it while burning What’s My Line? episodes off my DVR, had a bourbon and went to bed.
Not much to really sink your teeth into, is there?
Would it help if I mentioned the mystery celebrity guests on WML? were Robert Wagner and Anna Maria Alberghetti? Anyone else remember Anna’s delightful Good Seasons salad dressing tv commercials from the 1970s? Anyone?
Didn’t think so.
Perhaps the most exciting part of this entry is that I’m actually listening to Milli Vanilli. Probably shouldn’t have led with my best. But I can still manage to tie it all together becasue I have found a mystery link that connects the disgraced foot-stomping braid-heads to the sweet, lovely, industrious cherry itself.
But you’ll have to read the rest of the entry to learn it.
I was well into my thirties before I realized that the music and lyrics for I’m a Woman were originally written as a mainstream pop song by famed songwriting duo Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller (Hound Dog, Jailhouse Rock, Love Potion #9) and not written expressly for a certain perfume commercial jingle that became a mini-sensation in the late seventies and early eighties (which is included after the jump below).
I didn’t figure it out until I randomly snagged up a Peggy Lee Greatest Hits compilation simply because I knew her as the voice of the Siamese cat duo in the film Lady and the Tramp, and remembered a famous mini-documentary shown on The Wonderful World of Disney where Miss Lee demonstrates how she recorded the voices of both “Si” and “Am.” It’s genius, you see!
“All you need is a home tape recorder, and another one you can borrow from a neighbor.”
Of course… because who would ever need TWO home tape recorders? (Peggy also explains in person after the jump below)
