Dogwood trees are exploding into bloom all over New York and I am ready for my first Moscow Mule of the season.
This bad boy is dangerously easy to mix up. Take a tall glass with a lot of ice, fill it 1/3 to 1/2 full (depending on how hard you want your mule to kick) with vodka. Slice a whole lime however you like and squeeze it in, top off with good ginger beer. I have found that the quality of the taste depends not at all on the quality of your vodka but very much on the quality of your ginger beer. Recommended combo is Svedka + Reed’s Premium Ginger Brew. Stir, enjoy.
Come at me, summer.
This, this is where happiness sits. Happiness sits in simplicity and butter before noon on a Sunday and the most delicious marmalade I’ve ever had.
In honor of my last full weekend on the Upper East Side, tonight I will be hosting an impromptu dinner party. And I will be conquering Chicken Marbella. My dad always used to make this and it has always been one of those dishes that inspires fear and awe, maybe because little my ten-year-old self had never tasted anything so interesting (I was a pretty picky eater as a child).
I don’t know why it’s always seemed so intimidating as a dish, though. Its everything I like to do in the kitchen - throw it all together in a bowl, rub some spices into some meat, mix it up, then heat it up. This ish has been marinating its little tail off since last night and my hands still kinda smell like this great mix of oil and prunes and olive juice and oregano.
I told pretty much everyone to just bring wine so we will see (oh we will see) what the evening holds.
If you’re like me, you probably really love two things in the kitchen. And those two things are potstickers and olive oil. So here’s a tip. The tip is to not be a cocky motherfucker, and to instead follow the recipe on the back of the potstickers bag when it says “one tablespoon of oil.” If you, like me, use much more than a tablespoon of oil because you really really enjoy cooking with olive oil, especially drunk cooking with olive oil, you will in fact regret it, because that olive oil will pop and burn all over your hands and the counter once it gets hot enough and you will be forced to perform feats of great derring-do by tipping the very heavy pan over the sink while scrambling to hold in all the potstickers while you drain just enough of the oil to make it not spit at you like a very very angry llama. (It will also, of course, get all over your iPhone when you’re trying to take awesome Hipstamatic pictures. #firstworldproblems)
So, anyway, potstickers. Potstickers are great. Assuming you actually obey the recommended oil dosage, they are super easy to make and will never give you any trouble, just deliciousness. Generally if you find a bag of frozen potstickers at your local supermarket they will have basic instructions for cooking printed on the bag itself - super convenient. But just in case that doesn’t come through for you or it’s written in a foreign language or something, what you should do with potstickers is get a good sized pan, put like a tablespoon (MAYBE A TABLESPOON AND A HALF but no more) of oil in it, heat it a little, put your little frozen guys in, cook ‘em til they start to get nice and brown on at least one side each, then put two tablespoons OR more (you don’t have to worry quite so much about the water, it’s not going to be as angry as the oil) into the pan, cover it, turn it down to low and cook until the water evaporates or until it looks like something delicious that you want to eat. Bam.
P.S., I just ran hot water down my sink for about ten minutes after pouring in that excess hot oil because I’m always super nervous after that one time the sink clogged up when my roommates accidentally poured a cup full of bacon grease down there and I was out about $400 for a midnight plumber the day before Thanksgiving. DON’T EVER POUR BACON GREASE DOWN YOUR FUCKING SINK. There, you just got two awesome cooking tips in one post.
This episode brought to you by sauvignon blanc. Incidentally, sauvignan blanc + Gyoza chicken & veg postickers = a match made in heaven.
I have been making the BEST egg sandwiches for myself lately. Really it’s all about cooking the egg just right, so the yolk is soft enough to burst and ooze just right when you bite into it but not runny enough to get all over EVERYTHING. The trick, I have found, is cooking one side up mostly, then when everything’s looking solid flip it over and cook the sunny side for about 13 seconds, then flip back and check it, then flip once more and another 13 seconds. Eggs: much like David Ives, they are all in the timing.
Also, salting and peppering well. Plus, the ubiquitous efficiency of Kraft singles. Don’t think there is any food product more evocative of my childhood. I used to get a kick out of how I could just slurp bites of one of them down my gullet without chewing. And yes it is food PRODUCT, not just food. Really, they’re pretty gross things, but PERFECT for an egg & cheese.
I always mean to take a picture but usually I’m too into eating it immediately, so, maybe next time?
Mmmmm, up early enough in the morning to bake scones.
These are from a super easy super awesome cream scones recipe from my big red book o’ NYTimes recipes that I have adapted about a million ways because all you have to do is throw some extra shit in with the dough or with the cream and stir it up. Today’s variation is LOTS OF MOTHERFUCKIN’ CINNAMON.
I think I’m going to blog more about cooking… I mean, I think it’s happening, yo.
Tonight I have to make dinner for my broke-ass self using only things already in my kitchen. Surprise, broke self, you’re a boss. This is gonna be a tasty as fuck lentil stew thing.
Here’s how you make it: take half an onion, slice it up real thin, cook it in a saucepan with some butter and also salt and pepper. Let the onion start to get all caramelized and fragrant, then throw in a diced tomato on top of it. On top of that you want some chicken or veggie stock, maybe mixed with water if you want, two cups is probably good. Then you want like half a bag of lentils, more salt and pepper, a shit ton of turmeric and ground cumin, and a couple bay leaves, and you let that shit simmer. Probably for a while because those were some old-ass lentils in my cupboard. Oh, wash em first too, kids. I also overcompensated with the spices because I had like only half a cup of chicken stock left so the rest was water but I like my shit spicy so suck it, world.
While I wait for that shit to get all thick and lentil-y I’m drinking bourbon & ginger ale, to cure all that ails, and reading Uncommon Women (luv u 4ever R.I.P. Wendy Wass), so Hannah Hart got nothin’ on me (just kidding luv u 2 bb)
But in all seriousness this ish is smelling good. I could write a sonnet about the effervescence of turmeric & bay leaves. Tune in next weekkkkkkk (haha no don’t)
My life is becoming an endless parade of days spent waiting for used records I ordered off eBay to arrive.
This week it’s Music From Big Pink, though, so everything’s awesome. Irregardlessly.
Plus, I made quail for Christmas dinner last week. Like a boss.
And lo, she saw that it was good.
Quail with an Orange-Tarragon Glaze
Spicy Roasted Brussels Sprouts & Sweet Potatoes (used the last of the Mystery Georgia Backwoods Spice Rub on this. Goodbye, mystery rub, you’ve been oh so spicy and good.)
Red Wine Goat Cheese Risotto w/ Caramelized Mushrooms & Fresh Basil
Orange chocolate chip granola walnut cookies… And Annie’s White Shells Mac n Cheese.
What I do when I should be writing instead.
I just said to my roommate, “Don’t laugh at me, I’m about to blog about the pizza I made last night.”
He did laugh, but followed it with, “Well, it was phenomenal pizza, so I think you’re a little bit entitled.”
Don’t mean to totally throw myself the bouquet here, but I think he’s right.
I adapted slightly from a recipe from the huge, crimson, delicious-feeling ultimate New York Times cookbook my mom got me for Christmas this year. Said recipe called for making your own pizza dough as well, but my roommate had brought home two mounds of whole-wheat pizza dough before he went off to Italy for a week, so when he came back, I decided to actually make use of it (because Steve probably didn’t eat quite enough pizza while there), which eliminated that step, which is good, because while I do know my way around a kitchen I am definitely no baker. Yesterday when my groceries arrived our house had flour for the first time since we moved in in September, and I only bought it because I learned the hard way that you really need a lot of it to properly stretch out pizza dough. (I screwed it up this time anyway, but that’s a different part of the story.)
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- Eat food.
- Don’t eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize as food.
- Avoid food products containing ingredients that no ordinary human would keep in the pantry.
- Avoid food products that contain high-fructose corn syrup.
- Avoid foods that have some form of sugar (or sweetener) listed among the top three ingredients.
- Avoid food products that contain more than five ingredients.
- Avoid food products containing ingredients that a third-grader cannot pronounce.
- Avoid food products that make health claims.
- Avoid food products with the wordoid “lite” or the terms “low-fat” or “nonfat” in their names.
- Avoid foods that are pretending to be something they are not.
- Avoid foods that you see advertised on television.
- Shop the peripheries of the supermarket and stay out of the middle.
Everyone should read Michael Pollan’s Food Rules. It takes a total of a half an hour of your time. And I hope that it changes your relationship with food forever. These are just the first twelve “rules” but there are 64 pleasantly entertaining rules to eat by.
Eat what you want, eat what’s delicious, eat what’s good for you. (All three of these things should amount to the same thing if you’re doing things right.)
Also my most imporant rule is to cook from scratch as often as possible.
On the subject, I’ve found myself in a small budding crew of foodie friends, and one of them now writes a foodie blog, which you can check out here. It’s such a satisfying endeavor/pursuit on so many levels.
The simplest, most pleasurable sandwich you can put together in 5 minutes.
- Cut two slices of bread from your favorite loaf. As thick as your toaster will allow. Toast the bread. Get the outside crispy.
- Meanwhile, rinse, dry, and tear in half 2-3 leaves of lettuce. Bibb, romaine, just not iceberg. I went with red-leaf romaine.
- Slice down 1/2 a vine or heirloom tomato.
- Season the lettuce and tomato slices with salt (I prefer a light-flaked gray sea salt) and plenty of fresh-cracked black pepper.
- Spread one side of each slice of toast with mayo and a bit of your favorite hot sauce. I went with Wilklow Farms’s Basil Sauce - a local concoction that is tart, fresh, and deceptively hot - all things that pair wonderfully with the mayo and veggies. Let the mayo and hot sauce sink into the bread.
Note: don’t skimp on the mayo. This is the only fat in your sandwich and with the hot sauce and the tomato juice, it will create a fantastic kind of dressing. Indulge.
- Grab some of your favorite herbs from your garden. I went with basil and thyme.
- Hulk your lettuce on one side of toast; layer the tomatoes on the other side. Top with the garden herbs.
- Now would be a really good moment to add a little extra seasoning, mayo, and/or hot sauce to your sandwich - right on top of the lettuce, go for it. No one’s watching.
- Smack your sandwich haves together, slice in half, and enjoy.
What did you have for lunch today?
SOUNDS PERFECT. I am all about simple and cheap and tasty and this is like the epitome of all of the above.
Meanwhile, though, there’s leftover bacon in my fridge from when my mother moved me in and bought our first round of groceries. So this evening I think I’m going to fry that up, then slice up some grape tomatoes and cook them in the bacon grease, slide that all on some toasted whole wheat and add a pile of lechuga bought fresh from the Liberato market on my corner this afternoon. The only thing my kitchen is missing is a spice collection … because now I’m thinking that could really use some oregano. But maybe I’ll experiment with cayenne, ordinarily my spice of choice for anything on the planet. Probably can’t go wrong adding a little zip to a BLT. Oooh, maybe I’ll add avocado as well. The avocados I get up here in the Heights are HUGE. Like three times as big as wimpy Chesapeake Bay area ones. Bought one today. Can’t wait to taste it.
The best part of moving somewhere new is when you start to really own your neighborhood. I could not be happier about being in Washington Heights right now. I’ve been thinking of Brooklyn as a second-year adventure but honestly I might just never leave …
icanseenewyorkcityfrommyhouse:
I made dinner for the first time in ~3-4 months tonight. By made dinner, I mean my meal involved more than reheating a frozen entree of some kind (You know I love you, Joe. Oh Trader, My Trader.) or sidling up to a bar. (But I have more elaborate reasons for sidling up to a bar these days. Those reasons rhyme with schmute schmartender.)
So what inspired this culinary ambition? Earlier this afternoon, Alexis posted a superior piece of food porn: Chipotle Lime Grilled Chicken with Avocado and Bulgar Wheat from Cafe Orlin in the East Village. A mere stones throw from my office.
I was jealous. I was green (like the color of an avo-cado!) with envy. I was hungry. I Googled “Chipotle Lime Marinade.” I asked Molly where one could find chipotle packed in adobo. We figured the Goya aisle at the supermarket should deliver results.
By quitting time my resolve had somewhat changed. “Eh, you know. Store bought marinade is just fine.” Pro-tip: Old Cape Cod Chipotle Marinade: a bit too sweet but it will do in a pinch. (No HFCS, either.) I would love to be the kind of person who makes their own marinades. (Looking at you, Working Class Foodies, for assistance.)
Instead of a bed of bulgar, I placed my chicken on a bed of avocado. Oh you didn’t hear that correctly? Allow me to repeat. A bed of avocado. I grilled some grape tomatoes with green beans in a pan next to the marinated chicken. I put
too mucha delicious amount of oil in each pan.While eating dinner I realized that the smell wafting throughout my apartment — a mix of fat, oil, juices and moderately priced wine — mirrored the aroma of many a family dinner held countless times throughout my childhood at my grandmothers.
The entire enterprise felt good.
BED OF AVOCADO gets my seal of approval, and grilled grape tomatoes are so good there should be state laws against them.
(And my favorite, ridiculously easy, and good-on-anything marinade is olive oil + sea salt + garlic + cilantro + lime juice & zest, in a blender, pulse to mix evenly, adjust seasoning to taste.)
Love, love, love foodie blogs.
By day at work I’m surrounded by fantastic Korean food at Mark’s Kitchen (as opposed to last summer’s uppity Italian at Stella Marina, across the street from the Stone Pony in Asbury Park - although I can’t lie, uppity perhaps but it WAS all delicious) and in the process have discovered a deep, deep new love in bibimbap with Korean steak and a fried egg - but on my days off I’m hoping to have really great cooking adventures in my own home kitchen.
Off to a good start: the other night my brother and mom and I threw together some steaks from a recipe in Esquire, loaded with a super-easy barbecue spice rub I made with chile powder, garlic powder, onion powder, Spanish paprika, brown sugar, salt, and marjoram (we were out of oregano) and it literally came out the most divine thing I think I have put in my mouth all summer (yes, yes, commence the usual fellatio jokes, all right).
Next up: my sister’s coming home for the weekend and my mom’s making paella and I’m making cupcakes. Baking TERRIFIES me. But tackling terrifying things head-on is becoming a theme in my post-grad life (or at least I’m doing my best to keep up the pattern) so I’m gonna prop up the CakeLove cookbook and have at it. Chronicle to follow, and hopefully pictures.
Chicken with Coconut & Lime
1. Marinate 1-1 1/2 lbs chicken breasts in the juice of 1 lime (I had to substitute thighs because my local vegetarian-centric food co-op was running low on poultry).
2. (I made the coconut milk from scratch instead of buying it condensed in a can:) Mix 2 cups unsweetened shredded coconut with 2 cups water in a blender for 30-45 seconds. Let stand 10 minutes, then strain through a colander. Discard leftover coconut pulp. You can freeze the rest of the milk if you have extra; or if you need more immediately, just pour a little more water through the pulp before you discard it and strain again through the colander.
3. Heat 1/2 cup coconut milk in a small saucepan. Add the zest and juice of another lime. Season with salt and cayenne pepper (my very favorite all-purpose spice). Just before soaking the chicken, add 1 tsp fish sauce if you have it on hand (optional, but tasty as hell).
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