Random Tip #4

Don’t take your eye off of a demi-glacé... not even for a fucking second #sludge

Ask me if I’m still using the sludge? 

Bet. 

Trifecta

Freezer + Leftover + UseNOW = Oooooweee!!!

translation: sweet potato puree + mixed greens with goat cheese and vinaigrette + quick fry pork chop and roasted beets

If Lydia were a Hipster

Here's the thing about good intentions, single life, and farmers markets, they wield a remarkable combination. Upside being, if I really commit to a well prepared plan, I can rock out a single trip over a good two weeks, maybe more. Downside being if I slip up just a bit, even for a second, I careen head first into "I just blew $40 on leafy greens I can no longer eat" territory. You gotta be quick. You gotta have a plan. You can't just turn tricks forever, you gotta have a goal, do you have a goal?

So in this week's effort to utilize the last of my market booty, I came across the expected lone impulse buy. You know, that item you don't really know why you bought.. usually the result of some daydream of grandeur. The kind that leave you with squash blossoms, goat cheese and no idea what you're doing. The outlier this week was the summer squash. I'm not even a bonafide fan of summer squash. I mean, it's tasty and all when done up with butter and onions, but.... what isn't? What else am I supposed to do with it? Hush, I know there are likely a TON of mouthwatering options, but this creature of habit is always going back to basics. But that squash was all pretty and bright and yellow.... so I HAD to have it...

So you can imagine my sadness when I had to rid myself of it at the end of the week, having come up with nothing new or inventive. I was on the verge of losing it and could feel myself leaning toward habit. Since I hadn't ordered or eaten out in weeks, I was determined to keep the flow going and come up with anything that would make me feel like the Queen of Odds. I readily admit, using the hashtag #masterleftovermakeover makes me feel suuuuuper cool.

I also had a bit of the fresh kale I'd bought the week before that was starting to become a little... soft. So after a few Kim Crawfords, and a round of Titanium Radio on Pandora, the kitchen was getting warm. It was about to be on fiyah! I tossed the remainder of the large spring onions (about 3) with the one summer squash into the food processor and let 'er rip. Transferred to a mixing bowl, chopped up the kale (about 1/2 cup) *chop that kale really really fine* and added that to the mix.

*herein is where I should have squeezed the contents of its water before proceeding.. proceed*

I added two eggs at this point because I though I had enough raw material. I'm not sure if that was my first detour. Added panko breadcrumbs (maybe 1/2 cup? almost 3/4?) as though I was pulling off a standard croquette of any kind. Seasoned with a mirage of different spices. I was still on that coriander/cumin obsession so went that route, with a little cayenne and black pepper plus salt as always. Suit to taste and don't overmix.

Hmmmm, batter too wet. Don't want to add more crumbs. Superstars to remain veggie. Maintain dignity.

So I strained in cheesecloth. Wait, I didn't have any cheesecloth. Ugh. *strain in cheesecloth if you're willing to fuck up to this extent to enjoy the benefits. I promise, it's soooo worth it* Lined a mixing bowl with several paper towels and literally dumped the mix right in. Covered with plastic and slid it in the refrigerator. Then waited. Then forgot. Then waited again. By the time I was ready, amazingly, the panko was still doing its job, but the mix felt too fragile to hold together. I needed something. A binder and NOT an egg. Something else.

So I added what was right in front of me. Yes, Ms. Lydia, YES!

And there it sat. Just the right amount, with just the right seasoning. Hummus. That lone little bit (about 1/4 cup) of roasted garlic hummus that was just begging to be used. "Don't give up on me!" it piped up in a small voice... "Put me anywhere! I won't let you down.." Oh, little chickpea, you certainly did not.

In it went and I formed four balls. Ready for the skillet.

To be honest, I was unsure of all this. I had gone to all this trouble, tried to be all cute adding the kale and wasn't so sure my méthode de croquettes was going to work out in this instance. Even more terrifying, I may have wasted more potential nutritious ingredients than if I'd forgotten about the dang squash altogether. This had better work. A lot was riding on it. Namely, dinner.

Just to be safe, I called in for reinforcements. One obvious ploy for foolproof decadence. I was going to fry it and fry it well.

Dans le beurre.

Melt some butter (with olive oil to prevent burning) and make sure there is enough to really make it special, with plenty to go around. All croquettes will crisp up beautifully and finish perfectly. Throw some red onion in the cooling pan once the croquettes have been removed and let it soak up all that yummy brown (by now, i'm sure) butter. There's your garnish.

I think this is the best veggie burger I've ever had.... and it's my very own! Simply from the odds and ends of a farmers market run. Gotta write this one down. Oh, right...

I served it up with pan fried butter (Paula, we haven't forgotten you) buns, those fried onions, tomato and romaine with a side of cheddar beer potato chips.  I mean, fuuuuuuuuuck!  Come ON!!!

Many A Little Makes A Mickle

Lately, I've been trying to make a conscious effort to waste very little in the kitchen. I mean, VERY little. Fat gets stored, bones make stock kind of effort.  Taking careful inventory of what's in the freezer and trying to really stretch ingredients as far as they can go. I'm completely obsessed with the need to use something to its bitter end and have come to revere the Great Depression approach to the pantry. It's positively addicting.

So. I've been reading this book. Over and over again. It's called The American Frugal Housewife and Ms. Lydia Maria Child, the lady who wrote it is simply not, in no uncertain terms, fucking around. It's the same woman who penned the poem "Over the River and Through the Woods". A handsome and austere woman whose whipping stick jumps out and threatens you through her portrait.

"The true economy of housekeeping is simply the art of gathering up all the fragments, so that nothing be lost."

If something is brought into the house, it is utilized. Until it's a remnant of itself. She brags how she wastes nothing, kind of demands you do the same and pretty much screams at you throughout the book. You'll feel inadequately wasteful after the read (pun totally intended), I promise. Slightly dirty with a layer of indulgent film on your skin that's hard to get off.

"Look frequently to the pails, to see that nothing is thrown to the pigs which should have been in the grease-pot. Look to the grease-pot, and see that nothing is there which might have served to nourish your own family, or a poorer one."

With my newfound OCD (people with actual OCD, sorry), I get kind of excited everytime I use something I would normally (obnoxiously) overlook. A little turned on.. a little. So it was the beet greens from last weeks farmers market booty that did it for me. The beets translated into a very good, yet unimaginative, salad that is a common go to for those who love a sweet beet, but head to familiar arrangements that end up garnished with walnuts or pecans. I was determined not to throw out a morsel of my $35 spent at the market, so set about washing greens, trimming asparagus and freezing strawberries as soon as I got home. This was the new me.

This time around, I couldn't bring myself to toss the beet greens. There were a ton. It seemed too great to let go. So I did a bit of research. Google was feeling lucky and schooled me quickly by rolling "Beet Greens: The World's Healthiest Foods"... well alright, alright, alright.

Beet greens get their superfood status by being a leafy green vegetable with the distinction of providing an outstanding source of both calcium and magnesium.  Not 100% sure why this is remarkable, but it sounds really good, doesn't it?

As soon as I read that I could basically use the greens in place of spinach, it was pretty much the wild west. The party was on. I can honestly tell you, I'd read a book by its cover. I'd given beet greens a bad rap and that bitter taste was all in my head. Pure fiction. A classic case of a snap decision based on ignorance.

I basically made a cream of spinach soup with cashew cream in place of dairy. I'm always down with a cream of whatever, so I followed the standard process.

Sauteed some lovely large spring onions I'd picked up at the farmers market in a few knobs of butter then tossed in the washed and trimmed greens.  I pretty much only used the leaves. Salt up the veggies and add spices to taste.  Since I was all pumped about the essential minerals I was going to score in the beet greens, I took the superfood goodness a step further and spiced it up with cayenne, coriander, and cumin. Wonder spices, just ask Dr. Oz. I know, I know, he'll tell you anything, but honestly, there are some big punches packed in those tiny little seeds. I added chicken stock and let all that simmer for about 10 minutes.

I heard a rumor that garlic benefits you more when raw, so before blending I added a good amount of raw garlic to the sauteed veggies and stock.

Blend until smooth in a blender or with an immersion. Add cashew cream to taste and a splash of lemon juice to balance everything out. Season to taste.

I served mine with a few pumpernickel micro breadcrumbs.

Enjoy.

Classic Boiardi

Sometimes, I just need a good classic.  It's rainy here and I'm feeling like a little girl whilst wrapping Christmas gifts.  Wrapping gifts used to be my favourite part of the Christmas frenzy.  A gaggle of girls and I would sit around Mrs. Holt's dining room table, flanked by every kind of wrapping paper, ribbon, and tissue you can imagine.  We'd try to outdo each other... to see who could create the most outrageously wrapped present.  Since I'm already feeling like a little one, it's a perfect day for a childhood classic. 

Spaghetti and Meatballs.  I haven't had the two paired in years.  It's always pappardelle with truffled mushrooms, or cavatelli with duck ragu.  No.  Today, it's just plain old spaghetti and meatballs, not spaghettini and meatballs, not capellini and meatballs, but straight up spaghetti and meatballs.  

I'll make it easy on you and give you Clemenza's tomato sauce recipe.  I made the meatballs from ground grass fed beef (thanks, George), caramelized onions and leftover dressing from Thanksgiving.  I broiled them in the oven, then covered with tomato sauce and let that bubble up for a minute so all that grizzle from the meatballs would swirl around in all that yummy tomato creaminess. 

Then topped it on spaghetti.  No velvety marriage of pasta and sauce before plating here. Just pure honest American ignorance.  Sauce right on top.  

Sprinkle with parmesan.

Enjoy. 

Tarasca... Kinda...

So, a while back, one of my favourite chef's 86'd one of my favourite soups from one of my favourite spots.

Yes, Jose, I'm looking at you.

When I was biding my time at the Smithsonian, I would make it a weekly occurance to visit those kids at Oyamel on 7th in Penn Quarter.  Four dollar tacos and I only need three.  Jay-Z, use that and rap something fierce.

Well, when I was feeling extra decadent, I'd pre-empt with the black bean soup.  It's fucking amazing.  They serve it with some rich cream drizzled atop with accoutrement. Charred peppers, avocado and tortilla strips.  It was the single dish that convinced me that I really might like avocado.  Aside from guacamole.  

It got to the point where I would actually crave the soup.  On this particular day, it was all I could think about.  I'd psyched myself up, thinking about all the good fat I was going to get from the avocado, crunching up more chips to add when the strips ran out, and the sheer fun of scraping the charred pepper into the bowl.

You can imagine my sincere disappointment when I was told it was no longer on the menu.  I think I may have gone into shock.  I sat, dumbfounded, for more than a few seconds.  That childhood disappointment when no alternative will do.  No matter what it is.  I can't remember, but I'm pretty sure I had a taco for show and wiped away a tear as I finished my glass of wine too quickly and slinked out of the restaurant. Favourite dish deprivation is serious, y'all.  It's SERIOUS. 

So I tried to recreate it on my own.  Spontaneously. Due to the sale Giant was having on Haas avocados.  Just like that, BAM!  I had a hankering.  I wanted black bean soup and I wanted it NOW! I would usually soak my black beans, but hell to the no, that would take far too long, so Goya stepped in. Once the shortcuts* started, they just kept coming.  Jose might give me the stink eye, but Sandra Lee would clap gleefully and ask me about cocktail time.  

1 large can Goya black beans
2 cups chicken stock
1/2 medium onion, chopped
taco seasoning* 
leftover ham hock
bacon fat (sorry... use olive oil if you don't want to go here)

*right?! 

Add bacon fat to dutch oven to melt then add chopped onions.  Sweat until translucent then add ham hock (mine was leftover from collards I made earlier that day.... yeah it was a party up in hurrrr).  Add black beans (sauce in can and all), chicken stock and seasoning and simmer for about an hour.  Remove ham hock and roughly blend.  Add back to dutch oven and taste to make sure seasoning is just right.

Serve with sliced avocado, tortilla strips and a bit of plain greek yogurt.

Enjoy. 

p.s. I heard the soup is back on the menu.  Thanks, Jose!

Les Halles

So. I have this test. A very simple and easy way of weeding out a mediocre French brasserie.  

 It's pretty straightforward and pretty much tells me all I need to know in about 5 minutes and honestly determines whether or not I'll return. 

I order the French Onion Soup.  

You can pretty much tell the authenticity of the establishment with one bowl.  About a year ago, I was all jazzed about a new spot opening up on what is now called "Restaurant Row" here in D.C. Funny, because when I was growing up, it was more like "Hooker Highway" or "Prostitute Promenade".  But, you know how it goes.  The G word.  Anyway, this big deal from Philly was coming down, importing his staff and opening a significantly large brasserie on 14th Street.  I was so excited, I had such high hopes of having my Les Halles back. 

Les Halles.  The teeny tiny restaurant on Park Avenue South in New York City that served as my home away from alcove studio home when I lived on 29th and 3rd. I was desperate for a substitute and just couldn't find one that was just right.  It was like Cinderella's sisters and that damn shoe.  Either it was too far away (too big) or simply not up to snuff (too small). No perfect fit.

Let me give you some background... Back when Les Halles on Park Avenue South was small and hadn't yet expanded into the bodega next door, I was a regular 3 times a week.  My psuedo-boyfriend Nate and I had a routine.  We'd go spontaneously, never making a reservation.  He'd usually arrive a bit before me, so would put his name down with the hostess (she never seemed to remember us or at least never let on) and then head to the bar.  He'd have a beer from the tap and order a Cote du Rhone for me where we'd wait on our table over our chosen aperitif, usually no more than 20 minutes.  We systematically made our way around the menu until it had been sampled several times over.  There was never a bad meal.  We'd managed to win over Tim, the waiter who likes no one and I'm still friends with Carlos, the executive chef who took over after Anthony Bourdain threw open the doors of culinary fame.  This went on for years until my pseudo moved to Los Angeles. On his last night in NYC, we decided to head to Les Halles.  The bodega next door was boarded up and contractor work licenses decorated the door.  I scanned the packed restaurant for Nate, didn't see him so went to put our name down with the hostess.  "Oh, hello!  He's already at the bar".  

Look at that, she remembered us.   

Well, after he left, I kept up my visits, though mainly for brunch.  I'd have a full out breakfast or simply the onion soup.  Carlos offered to teach me how to make it one afternoon after a particularly long Sunday afternoon at the bar. "Come in tomorrow morning, we'll make it together".  It was one of the best days of my life culminating in a random run-in with Anthony Bourdain, but that's another blog post.  That story deserves it's own.  But one extremely important detail I took away from that magical day in the Les Halles kitchen with Carlos was the simple knowledge that the soup I'd prepared that day would not be served that night.  It had to wait.  About 2 days.  You know, for all the flavours to get to know each other.  To fall in love. 

So when I strolled into this new super trendy, super hyped, spot across from Pearl Dive, I gave them the test. 

I ordered a simple bowl of onion soup.  One bite in..... *side eye*

"Was this made today?" 

"Hold on, let me check...." *2 minutes pass* "OF COURSE!!  Of course, I was assured by the chef that it was made today"

FAIL. 

Let's go back to the original.

Enjoy.

Chicken Fried Mellie

I can't even lie. I've been secretly making my way through D.C. making a self certified list of the best fried chicken this city has to offer.  I have yet to branch out beyond the comforts of the DMV (with the exception of Roscoe's and my Aunt Sanny's kitchen), but I'm sure I'll get there. Persevere! My father always said. I'm going to go ahead and state this disclaimer right now. These tastings and evaluations omit the fried chicken recipe of a Ms. Saundra Jean.  I repeat, THESE TASTINGS AND EVALUATIONS OMIT THE FRIED CHICKEN RECIPE OF A MS. SAUNDRA JEAN.  Known to me as Aunt Sanny.  Aunt Sanny makes the best fried chicken IN THE WORLD you will want to kill yourself after eating it because nothing in your future will ever compare to the Godliness that is her chicken.  That is all.

So, in this post, I'm highlighting two exceptional contenders.  Should we have a cook off??  Should I ask your opinions???  First up, the Hitching Post.  It's a little neighborhood establishment that's been around for some time.  Barry runs the place now and has kept the good Southern recipes that made the joint so enamoured in the first place.  All for a bang of the buck.  The chicken reminds me of that casual Sunday after church.  For some reason, a little sermon before your wings and thighs makes it taste that much better. Hitching Post's chicken is crispy on the outside, juicy on the inside as it should be with just the right basic seasonings.  There is a hint of heat and smokiness that I can't quite put my finger on, but it gives the bird some depth.  Definitely a recipe that holds well in the fridge and is a delight served cold.  Pack a picnic of cold fried chicken, lemon cookies and plums.. I've always wanted to do this.  Ever since I jacked the idea from Cara Walker.  She packed that very same picnic to woo Steven Wakefield.  And the shit worked.

Second up, Pearl Dive Oyster Palace.  You heard right.  What does an oyster palace know about fried chicken?  Oh, Lawd, everything.  Everything.  I'm dreaming about it right now.  It's super super crispy and is heaven on first bite.  Good for us, they damn near give you a whole chicken to enjoy.  The Pennsylvania Amish Chicken Dinner.  I can't order it without screeching, "Winner Winner Chicken Dinner!".  It's gotten a few side eyes as of late.  I admit it.  This chicken is cooked twice, as we all saw the process on Eat the Street with Chuck Whatshisface.  There are no surprises here, no inventive additions, no odd seasonings, just classic goodness.  I can't wait until I'm able to order it again.  My jeans won't let me this week.

So instead, (because the more I eat it, the more I crave it) I'm going to go a semi healthy route and try a recipe I came across online.  I have no idea where I found it, but pretty sure I tweaked it along the way, so no coming after me for infringement.  Yet another "oven fried chicken".

Place some chicken breasts (I'm using tenders) in a shallow glass container of milk and refrigerate overnight. About half a pound? I guess? Presumably one cup? I'm pretty positive that's what I used... check out the photo.. Oh Goodness....

8oz chicken tenders
1/3 cup of panko bread crumbs
1/3 cup chopped walnuts
2 tablespoons grated parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon chopped rosemary
salt, pepper, cayenne.. to taste

Preheat oven to 425. Toast panko until golden brown in a heated skillet.  Add panko, finely chopped walnuts, parmesan, dry mustard, chopped rosemary, salt, pepper and cayenne to bowl and whisk together.

Remove chicken from milk and dredge in panko/walnut mixture and place on a wire or mesh rack on a baking sheet.  Bake for about 15 minutes or until chicken is cooked through.

Enjoy!

The Deal:

Calories: 309; Fat:15g; Protein:32g; Carbohydrates:11g

per serving; serves 2

Booty Call

I got stood up! OK. Not really.

Lily and I were going to get together for some girl time. Complete with howling, cackling laughter, swirly swishy cocktails inspired by girlie cable shows, and whispers of scandalous secrets in a loud ass bar even though no one is listening and no one cares.

But the evilennes of the work world kept her hostage this eve, so the Carrie Chronicles were postponed for later this week.

In the meantime, my fridge sparse, Mama was getting noshy (don't bother looking this up on urban dictionary, the definition is wrong). As much as I hadn't wanted to, I was relying on the flatbreads and apps on which I was inevitably going to indulge at said loud bar to nourish me for the eve.  I needed something easy; complete with ingredients already in my arsenal, preferably without need for a deep defrost.

Kale and Onion Quiche it is. Why? It just worked, alright? Everything was there. Just staring me in the face.

I had about 3/4 of a sheet of puff pastry, basically not enough to make a proper 8"pie base. So a rustic interpretation it was, and honestly I kind of fell in love.  It had this Medieval, Tudor, Should Totally Be Filled With Quail Or Some Weird Shit Like That look about it.  Well, Babette isn't in my kitchen tonight, so this won out:

2 squares Dufour pastry sheets (1/2 package)
1/4 medium onion
1 cup of kale
3 eggs
1 cup milk
1/4 cup jarlsberg cheese (I would have used a gruyere, but jarlsberg was what graced the commissary and gruyere is expensive!  ahh, the good ole days)

slowly melt butter in a skillet until lovely, melted, and bubbling.  Add onion... sautee until transluscent.  Add kale and season with salt, pepper, cayenne and a dash of nutmeg.  Let cool.

Whisk together eggs and milk.

In the meantime, arrange pastry sheets in a shallow baking dish with edges hanging over the edge.  Line with aluminum foil and fill with beans for pre-baking.  Bake for 15 minutes at 350F, then remove from oven and let cool.

Combine the kale and onions to the egg mixture (all should be cool by now) and mix evenly.  Fill the pastry with  mixture and top with jarlsberg (or gruyere if you're flossing) and bake until quiche is firm and top is golden brown.

Enjoy.

Serves 6 modestly.

The Deal:

Calories: 256; Fat: 19g; Protein: 7g; Carbohydrates: 12g

per serving

Guilty Remnants

Sadly, there are few things that delight me more than a food leftover challenge. Seriously, I strive to keep my freezer full of options and my refrigerator void of all sense whatsoever. It's the best ever... when you find yourself in a situation where dinner is to be crafted from herb pate, sardines, potato chips and seaweed salad.  Not all together, of course.  THAT'S the challenge.  My very own episode of Chopped.  Every dang night!  It's either exhausting or exhilarating, depending what side of the street you're on.  I'm a glass half full kind of gal.  

So tonight was a menagerie of random items from the last week plus selections from the pantry and the "garden" (read: herbs I've managed to keep alive in pots on my patio).  Half a roasted spaghetti squash, prepared bacon, walnuts, sage, parmesan and a hunk of butter.  More specifically:

2 cups spaghetti squash, shredded
1 slice bacon, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts
1 tablespoon of grated parmigiano reggiano
1 tablespoon of butter
3-4 chopped sage leaves

Melt the butter in a saute pan and allow to brown slightly.  Add walnuts, and sage.  When the sage starts to smell all yummy, add the bacon and let them all meet and get to know one another.  When they've officially fallen in love, add the spaghetti squash and give a good toss with tongs. Top with parmesan and eat up. 

The Deal:

Calories: 349; Fat: 26g; Protein: 10g; Carbs: 20g

*just a reminder, fat doesn't make you fat, sugar makes you fat... this is all natural fat your body can recognize. Walnuts are amazing for brain health and butter... well, is butter. It makes everything OK. 

We Don't Have To Take Our Clothes Off

To have a good time....

p.s. cherry wine pairs wonderfully with duck baguette*

Cherry Wine

1 bottle of your favourite light Chardonnay

1 cup pitted cherries

Blend until smooth and chill before serving

*recipe and imagery forthcoming

Frugal vs. Broke

Yaaaasssssss...

Miguelito

Junior year of college, I spent a semester in London.  I chose London because I'd become enamored in my youth, had a hot little thing for Robin Hood and was roped into an odd love for The Clash when I was 12.  Also, I would live on my own instead of with a host family.  That was pretty much the deciding factor.  Looking back, I should have greased whomever bent the rules for Stacy Robbins and gone to Florence instead.  For, I too was crushing on Michelangelo quite a bit.  A few of my besties headed to Madrid since they were too cool for school, but unlike Robbins, were famously hosted by Spanish families. Stacy (not Robbins) Jill broke hearts left and right, ("love me today, love me tomorrow...") and Michael, a lover not a fighter, was making hearts flutter as well.  So what if it was the beat beat of his host "Dad"?  I'd hear stories of Mikey being chased around the house while the host perv squealed, "Miguelito!  Miguelito!", trying to goose him, with Gonzalo in hysterics.  God Bless the Queen.  

For spring break, while the other Orangemen took their ISICs down to the Canary Islands, I headed to Spain.  For some culture, dammit.  Also, to rock it out in the Plaza Mayor.  It was my first true experience with true Spanish food.  Tortilla Espanol, Croquetas, Manchego.  Endless plates of egg, meat, potatoes and cheese.  Meat, potatoes, cheese and eggs.  Potatoes, cheese, eggs, and meat.  Cheese, eggs, meat and potatoes.  That's what I got.  I don't think I spied a single vegetable in the two weeks I was there.  Not even in Sevilla.... just paella there.  It got to the point where if I didn't see anything popping off the menu, croquetas were my go to.  I mean, fry a car part and it's delicious.  You right, Alex, you right.  A deep fryer makes everything better. 

Not sure if you heard, but your gubment shut down.  For two weeks plus.  Since I was unable to get into my office (thanks, Cruz, for my semi-staycation... I can't even believe you sad childish little assholes... WAIT.  Breathe and STOP.  For real???), I spent a LUDICROUS amount of time in my other office.  The one y'all share with me.  So much time, I'm doing extra yoga sessions to make up for it.  So.  In my alt-office madness, I became master of the leftover.  Oh, and I had leftovers.  More specifically, the root vegetable puree that accompanied the schnitzel.  You heard.  Fucking schnitzel!  With no Andrew or Peter to eat the remainder, something had to be done.  Believe you me, ALL that leftover root vegetable puree got put to good use and the leftover bacon to boot.  Andrew and Peter should stop by this weekend. I'll bribe with DC Brau and a fabulous lanai (miss you Stacy Jill).

During the 2013 shitdown (not a typo), I made a quick turnaround to Madrid.  Croquetas were calling.  Airfare? $0.  Hotel? $0.  Reliving my 20th year with imaginary 20 year old Mikeys, Stacys, and G-Loves by my side?  Priceless.  

The croquetas?  So good, I want to fly down to Miami, chase Michael around his living room squealing, "Miguelito! Miguelito!".  I'll let his wife goose him.

Fry about 6 strips of bacon and set the swine aside.  Drain half the fat from the pan and replace with butter.  Ya HEARD??? Chop one turnip and blanch in water for about 30 seconds.  It will remove the bitterness leaving the sweet sweet.  Sautee 1/2 yellow onion, the chopped turnip and 1 apple in the drippings and butter.  Set this aside too.  Boil a yukon gold potato and a sweet potato and prep as you would mashed potatoes.  Add the sautee and the chopped bacon to the potatoes and throw in a raw egg and enough panko breadcrumbs to get a good consistency.  Enough so that when forming into small balls, they stay together.  Roll in panko. Let set in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes before frying until pretty and brown in 350 degree oil.  Serve with a cheese sauce (left over from the mac and cheese... lawwwwwwd) and sprinkle with parsley. 

The Deal:

You see I only fried three right?  Right.  Shut up and enjoy. Freeze the unfried until Andrew and Peter show up at your door.

The Laziest Break of Fast

I'm not a morning person.  I've accepted that.  I'm starting to really revel in it, frankly.  I have fantasies about staying in bed until noon with breakfast brought up to me on a little yellow bamboo tray adorned with silver set.   I like contrast.  Anyway, sometimes my fantasy is simply a hard cooked egg and coffee, sometimes it's a full on feast.  Every night, I set my alarm clock for 6am.  Planning on doing Pilates, showering, taking my time making my breakfast and french roast.  Every morning, I drag myself out of bed at 7:50am just in time for GMA's "Play of the Day" and curse myself for not getting up 20 minutes earlier.  At least that way I could grab a breakfast sandwich on the way to work.  I haven't had a breakfast sandwich in months.  It's also probably not the best choice of breakfasts for me if I want to really put the good fuel into my bod in the morn.  As I trek towards the Dome at the Natural History museum, I regret, again, not rising sooner and just not making the dang oatmeal.

I know what y'all are thinking.  Girl doesn't have time to make oatmeal?  Just stick it in the microwave and go!  I don't own a microwave, I'd have to cook it old school on the stove and ain't nobody got time for that.  I can't believe I went there let alone hyperlinked it.  Le sigh.  I'd have to get up 20 minutes earlier!  Follow along with me now.

So when I came across an article about cooling summer breakfasts, I fell out.  I felt like someone was telling me, YES!  Go 'head girl go 'head get down.  Get your oatmeal on.  And trick it out if you want.  So I did.

It's a 1:1 ratio, so it's easy peasy.  Take about 1/2 cup of oatmeal and place in a covered container.  Pour 1/2 milk (I use almond milk) over the oats, cover and refrigerate over night.  That's it.  I swear.  And no weird o rama microwaves rearranging the bio makeup of the food.  So there.

Dress it up with some walnuts and honey and you're full and focused all morning.  This morning, I rolled out of bed at 8.  Win win.

The Deal:

Calories: 261; Fat: 8g; Protein: 7g; Carbohydrate: 41

It may seem high in fat, but it's a good fat.  From the walnuts.  Aids the brain.  Promise.

En Papillote

Mes Cheres!  I have a few months to get back to basics (wedding, wedding, another wedding.. can't look beat).  Which means cooking in the kitchen more than paying Chef Dave to cook for me.  Less frying, more steaming.  No butter. Damn.

I love eating out for lunch, but since I am trying to slim down my waist, I'm going to go ahead and fatten up my wallet in the process.  Brown bag lunches.  Quelle Horreur!  It really is a travesty.

So, last night I prepped my packable lunch.  snapped some asparagus, julienne'd some carrots (I have to use those quickly or I'll forget about them and they'll end up grey and soft in the back of the fridge), and sliced a scallion.  All with the intention of pairing these with tuna and egg over butter lettuce.

Guess who ended up waking up late, bailing on the last part of the prep and saying hello to Nam at 701 instead?  This girl.  The salad was amazing as usual.  Thanks, Chef Dave.

Well, not trying to clean out limp veggies in tupperware next week, so guess what accompanied my fish for dinner?  I can't get anything past you guys. You're so dang smart.

I laid out the scallions, asparagus, carrots (with a few sprigs of the carrot green, how macrobiotic of me) and parsley on a sheet of parchment paper and sprinkled some white wine.  Placed a lovely, firm, seasoned (sea salt and black peppercorn) fillet of Turbot (a fish I'm now desperately in love with), arranged the remainder of veggies over it and folded the paper like a good French girl should.  Fine.  A good girl with a French last name.  Then into the oven it went at 375 until something divine floated from my kitchen.  

I was honestly BLOWN AWAY at how simply delicious this was.  The carrots were perfectly tender and sweet.  The turbot.  Oh G-D the turbot!!!  $6 for a half pound and I'm dreaming about it right now.  

Enjoy the goodness.

The Deal

Calories: 177; Fat: 3g; Protein: 19g; Carbs: 12g

Ctrl + Alt + Delete

Starting anew.... somewhere along the line, my skinny jeans got tight.  OK, fine they don't fit.  At all.  We all know I'm not buying a new wardrobe, so that just means one thing.

Recharge.  Reload.  Reshoot.  (note: this post was written Thanksgiving 2012 and I've slightly, but not really, amended to 1. acknowledge the violence highlighted in American culture and 2. acknowledge my procrastination... however, my editing a silly blog won't singlehandedly shift the stance of the NRA, sooo)

(note #2: I updated this post around Superbowl time, but never published.  Blogastination had set in, but I'm back.  Again.  On the regular.  Promise.)

I'm going Spa Lady on you and turning my abode into Canyon Sonoma Sedona Way Too Expensive For My Blood But Dying To Go Ranch.

A skinny little bitch named Tracy Anderson is going to help me do it.  Tracy is out of her mind and trying to tell me that it's going to take 90 days to shut down my computer and reboot, but ask any ex-boyfriend, I just can't commit.  So I told her, gurrrl, I'll hit you up for 6 weeks and if I'm one leg in that denim, it's on.

So, I headed to the store, on Thanksgiving Superbowl Sunday which is honestly THE BEST time to go... work your way around the clueless husbands girlfriends who've been sent out in the cold to fetch the lone missing ingredient from the sausage stuffing seven layer dip and it's a breeze.  The husbands girlfriends will stay out of your way, they're desperately trying to get home to the pigskin (should I have left that in?).

Well stocked, no lines, and the produce section all to myself.  I parked my cart in one corner and roamed around until my cart looked like a rainbow of sunshine fresh grown goodness. I strolled out, three recyclable bags and $200 deep.... Oh, Tracy allows booze, did I not mention that?

I have to admit, I haven't been the best girl and have amended some of Tracy's rules.  Namely numbers 6, 7, and 8... Look, I can't look like an asshole and carry tupperware anywhere but work, so Rule #8 NO RESTAURANTS NO PARTIES was the first subject to edit.  I like to enjoy life, my city and what both have to offer and that involves restaurants.  I've chosen wisely and haven't broken any food rules, just rearranged a bit.  You'll see.

Rule #6 states NO SUBSTITUTIONS unless necessary.  The brazil nut exchange was necessary due to availability.  Rule #7 states NO ADDITIONS.  OK, Tracy, I love you, but mama needs flavour.  I can't get by on bland chicken in dishwater, so I'm going to go ahead and assume you didn't mean herbs.  Clearly.  Who would omit herbs???? I know you meant to omit salt, but I'm going to ignore that too.  Doctor's orders.

I've also decided not to view Tracy's recommendations as restraints or limits, rather my base diet to which I'll shape everything around.  That means if I'm really truly famished, I'm going to have a handful of almonds, or a salad.  Both wise choices in which to compliment Tracy's regimen.

She'd say I was cheating.

Good.  We're on the same page.

The more I delve into this, the more excited/terrified I become.  So far the recipes are pretty tasty and I slowly realize that the best way to pack up Week 1 for the work week is to treat it as baby food.  Yes.  You heard.  BABY FOOD.  Suddenly, those US Weekly covers with Jennifer Aniston headlining in a teeny weeny yellow bikini flashed across my mental screen as I put two and two together and realized who'd gotten me into this in the first place.  Tracy, you celebrity whore, you....

**UPDATE: Baby food is for BABIES**

Back to square one.

Random Tip #3

Freeze your Trinity.  Separately.  Use as needed.  OMG, Duh.  #slightlyembarrassed #saving money #promisethisisthelasttimei'llutilizethishashtagshiteveragain

This.

Just a teaser... I'll follow up with my attempt later this week.  Cheers!
http://vimeo.com/39727309

Sunny Sundays

Woke up this morning to a cafe au lait, a grapefruit mimosa and a sunny side up to match my sunny day.  Serve over grilled asparagus and eat outside. xoxo

The Deal:

Calories: 120; Fat: 9g; Carbs: 1.2; Protein: 11.3

One Night in Bangkok

I've been super busy lately.  SUPER busy.  So busy, that cooking a full on dinner at the end of my day seems impossibly ridiculous.  Not to mention impossibly time consuming.  No need to make an effort not to pull up my saved profile on Angelico and call in a delivery because even delivery would take too long.  I need something QUICK that involves little effort so that I can get to the next item on my to do list.

A long time ago (those who are TSLB regulars are familiar with my situation) I went to Costco and went WILD OUT.  I've said it before and I'll say it again.  Don't go into Costco slightly hungry.  You'll end up sampling everything and walking out with a bulk box of ramen noodles and enough bratwurst sausage to feed an army.  You convince yourself that as a single girl who's trying to maintain a 27 jean, that yes, you ABSOLUTELY NEED that bulk box of chicken flavoured ramen.  What.  The.  F***??  I'm down to the last 6 packs and it's been about two years.  Seriously.

But I must confess... why do I want to get back in my car, head into VA (y'all know how I feel about Virginia) pay the $50 membership dues and tackle the oversize cart?  Whyyyyyy?  I ABSOLUTELY NEED another case of ramen noodles.  Maybe a variety to carry me through the next 6 years....

Simply for the things you can do with it... and do with it you can.  It's endless... I mean, a bowl ought just come with ramen noodles built into the bottom.  It doesn't matter what you're serving, it will be knighted by the addition of random vegetables and meats making an old stew a new bouillabaise.  I swear, the calories aren't that bad if you don't use the pack of poison they include.

Years ago I read a totally captivating article about maximum security prisons and the eating habits of the inmates.  It's all the same it seems. Socially, we all congregate around the kitchen (commissary in this case).  Ramen is a staple of the commissary, as it's convenient and it's cheap, and spreads are usually made from it (avec acoutrement).  These guys had it down to a science and were eating chinese takeout from the ingredients purchased in the commissary.  That's a fantastic episode of Chopped if you ask me.  I found the article completely and totally fascinating.  Engrossing, really.  Someday, I think I'll try a Max Hackett* Special.  Sweet and Sour Pork.  You will HOWL when I tell you how he does it, there is something so gangsta about it..... I suppose I should have known.  Someday.... someday I'll spend One Night in Lockup and share the results...

*This Max Hackett is not one Max Hackett married to Clover Graham Hackett who used to direct traffic at Great Adventure while dancing like Willard from Footloose... it's another one... 

Anyway, I started fantasizing (yes, fantasizing) about things I could do and would do with ramen.  Tonight, I'm spending the night in Bangkok.  To the ramen, I'm adding asparagus tips, mushrooms, and scallion for depth and colour, as well as chopped ginger and lemongrass for flavour.  I can't wait for this to take me all of 6 minutes...

Heat 1/2 cup coconut milk with 1 1/2 cups of seafood stock until it starts to simmer, add the ramen.  Cook until noodles start to soften then add vegetables and shrimp.  Cook until vegetables are tender and shrimp is fully cooked.  Garnish with flat leaf parsley.

Consider this our first night with our ramen adventures.... I forsee a fast and frenzied affair...