70 x 3 = Park

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and I'm going to get my butt outside as much as possible.

They have predicted three days in a row with 70 degrees as the high. Not only is that amazing for March, but if you consider that  last weekend consisted of a Nor'easter that took out power in NJ and NY, as well as flooding and destroying a huge portion of the shore, (and my personal pain of having a sinus infection) I am going to make an extra effort to make this weekend not suck.

To that effect I shall be sitting in Riverside Park with a book as soon as I can get down there. But I will do so sensibly, after slathering myself in sunblock. St. Patrick's Day may have come and gone for another year, but my skin remains Irish.
My husband mocks me all the time as to how delicate my skin is. To which I reply that not all of us can be blessed w/ rough hides covered in freckles. This, however, is just yet another reason I wish I had some Italian blood in me. Freckle-then-burn for 2 weeks-to-a month before tanning is just NOT a fun way to live.

I grew up sailing, and later became a sailing instructor, and I was always a lobster for the first two weeks. 45 waterproof means nothing to my skin. Especially if a life-jacket has been able to rub at my shoulders.  I remember one parent actually turned open-mouthed to look at me the first day of the Summer, because I was so pale. He did not understand how it was possible to be that pale. Then again, he lived down the shore all year round and had that perma-tan and accompanying squint.
Well, Mr. Chance, all I can say is I'm still winter-pale as ever, but I just turned 30 and I don't have crows feet yet. So there!

Another sun-related anomaly I do not understand is the removal of sunglasses. Personally, I wear them year-round because I have very sensitive eyes (along with the skin. You'd never know I grew up a tomboy to look at me now.) But I'm not getting at general wearing. I don't know if it happens as much in real life as it does in the movies, but why do people remove their sunglasses to see someone better in the middle of the day?
You know the scene I'm talking about. Person stops, looks more closely, and then lifts their sunglasses off their face and says recognized-person's name inquiringly. It has NEVER made sense to me. Surely you are wearing your shades because it is bright out, and they assist you in being able to see without glare or squinting. (Or in my case, slightly less glare and squinting.) So doesn't it follow that if you remove your sunglasses while trying to recognize a person, they would become HARDER to see?
I don't get it.
I'm sticking with my book and my shades are staying on.

*end note - while sitting on this bench, a very small child, sitting in an interesting contraption on the front of her daddy's bicycle, pointed at me and said, "Mommy" as they rode by. Oh my, no, little one. Not even close.

When Irish Eyes Are Smiling...

... you know they're probably up to something.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

I probably should have done something a bit more Irish-themed, since I've got Irish coming at me not only from both sides of my family, but also my husband (tho his is only on his dad's side. Insert "scoff" here.) But really... what? I wore a green cotton sweater (which proved too much for walking to and from my voice lesson outside today. Glorious sunny day for a walk along the park, though. Keep it up, Mother Nature!) and I wore my little golden shamrock necklace, which I got when my family took a trip to Ireland when I was about 5. The chain just barely fits around my neck now.

See?

Umm... I put broccoli in my omelette this morning. That's green...




St. Patrick's Day is one of those days that when I was a child, I'd wake up and find a little card, or a pin or something next to my cereal at breakfast, but that was the extent of it. My mother did not subject us to corned beef and cabbage, or any of the other stereotypical Irish foods, thankfully. And my husband barely even acknowledges the day (tho he did wear a green sweater vest to school today).  But as with all holidays, made-up or otherwise, I always feel the need to do something in recognition. Hence, the necklace that comes out once every year.

While the rest of NYC is full of drunken as-er-revelers, celebrating the fact that they know someone who is 1/16th Irish, we will be dining on a veal ragú that I plan to make later this evening. Not even a potato to be found in my kitchen at the moment! You might say we are very bad O'Gradys.
My friends know that I love Italy, Italian food, and that I'd like to live there while I still have many good years left to me. If I could have stayed there after our honeymoon, I would have. (I'm sure I'll pick up the language eventually...) But I am also proud of my Irish heritage. My mother has spent years and years tracing our ancestry back to the 1800's (and possibly farther in some branches) because most people do have some innate desire to know where they came from. And these days we're all so inter-married and living it bustling metropolises that there is very little old-world tradition, and even fewer stories.

There is a definite part of me that wishes that I'd grown up in a small town (in Italy) and learned how to cook at my grandmother's side, or that the extended family got together for harvests and the subsequent dinners.  To know a local butcher and know that his father, and his father before him, were all butchers and passing down the trade.
I know I romanticize this in the extreme, because I would NOT SURVIVE without things like Amazon's free 2-Day delivery and UPS... but I hold it in my heart to some day find that world.

So go forth and celebrate your heritage, Irish or otherwise. I hope you find the happy-medium between stubborn old ways and modern liberation, and count yourself lucky to do so.
I'll leave you with two Irish Blessings... of a sort.

“May you always have
Walls for the winds,
A roof for the rain,
Tea beside the fire,
Laughter to cheer you,
Those you love near you,
And all your heart might desire!”

“May those who love us, love us
And those who don’t love us,
May God turn their hearts
And if he can’t turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles
So we will know them by their limping!’

Fashion Gone Wrong

I've been cooking a lot lately, so just to keep things interesting:
It's time to mock more horrible fashion!

Let's start with footwear.

 It looks like the sole of this shoe is actually falling off. How would you walk in them?! Do they come with matching suede ski poles so you can lean forwards without falling over?

These simply fall into the category of, How Tall Do You Need To Be? The chains crossing over the patent leather kind of call to the rocker in me, were I performing on stage... but not the 5" heel with narrow platform. These shoes were clearly NOT made for walkin'.

On to things that should not be worn on the bottom half of your body, ever. Not in public, and not at home.

Not only should you not have words across your bum, but you should not have little hearts running down the backs of your legs. Bonus: you can see in the picture that the black is slightly see-through. Awesome.

I can't... they're not... WTF?!?!?!?!


Just, No. Under no circumstances. No.

Here's a winning number. Ever wanted to look like you had your oversized shirt tied around your waist all the time without the pesky nuisance of actually tying one there?
Then have we got the skirt for you!!!

Just in case the front view didn't convince you, it really will look like you are wearing a shirt around your waist as a skirt. Just don't try to untie the sleeves.

This is not Hervé Léger. This little number is by a brand called, "Pleasure Doing Business"... I think we can all guess just what "business" they are involved in. Moving on...

Nanette Lepore Primrose Pant.
On, Nanette, how you have let me down. But now I know what to wear should the urge to splatter-paint arise.

Finally, for the girl who wants to look like an M.C. Escher Egyptian Royal: your gown awaits.

Next time on Fashion Gone Wrong: I know the weather is getting warmer, but that is no excuse to wear shorts that show your lower-bum-crease. You have been warned.

On that note, I am going outside to enjoy the lovely Spring weather!

Vampire-Proof

Unless of course the Vampire happens to be Angel or Spike... but only season 6-onward Spike.

Um, what?
Right.
Dinner.

Tonight is Parent-Teacher conferences, so Mike probably won't get home before 9PM. On nights like this, I make a fabulous and super-fast dinner: Fettuccine Aglio e Olio, which just means Garlic & Oil. Not only is it delicious and fast-cooking, but it will ward off BOTH vampires and colds. (Fact - garlic is very good for the immune system. Next time you're feeling a cold come on, use it as an excuse to eat this or an entire loaf of garlic bread :)

Ingredients:
evoo
3 garlic cloves
red pepper flakes
anchovy paste
*dried oregano
**parmigiano or romano cheese, grated
toasted pine nuts
you do not need any salt because of the anchovy and cheese

*Most recipes call for parsley, but as I really dislike parsley, I swap for dried oregano.


**I know you're not supposed to put cheese with seafood, but I do not consider anchovy paste that has melted into oil as still being legitimate seafood...

So the easy rundown of MY version of this dish:
Set your water to boil, and heavily salt it before dropping your pasta.

The sauce:

Heat some evoo on medium low (I have never measured this out... depending on how much you are making you want just enough to coat all the noodles in the end. Maybe 1/4 cup for 2 people? Eyeball it.) and squirt about an inch to an inch and a half long line of *Anchovy Paste.

*No really, you should have a tube of this in your crisper drawer, as well as a tube of tomato paste. They will help to enrich lots of sauces you make, without having annoying jars or cans of the stuff that you can't use up all at once. Very useful.
Also, if you think you don't like anchovies, you're wrong. (Unless you have an allergy. Then you're right.) Even I won't eat an anchovy straight, but when it simmers in oil it has only the faintest fishy note and mostly just a nutty depth of flavor. Trust me and try it. Even Mike likes this dish, anchovy paste and all.

That was a very long side note...

Continuing the sauce, you then drop a pinch or two of red pepper flakes into the oil to simmer while the anchovy paste heats up.

Then, you want to use your finest-gauge Microplane and grate about 3 cloves of garlic into a fine paste. Once the anchovy paste has melted into your evoo, add the garlic and stir until it is well incorporated.
It is very important that you do not rush this sauce, and keep it on a very very low setting. Otherwise your garlic will brown and start to turn bitter, and then the whole sauce is ruined. But since fettuccine only takes 8 minutes to cook, if you start the anchovy paste right when you salt and drop the pasta, it should all work out fine.

Once the garlic is stirred in and on a slow simmer, I toss about a tablespoon or so of dried oregano in, because I feel like there needs to be an herb in here somewhere.
When your pasta is about 2 minutes from done, I ladle about 1/4 cup of the pasta water into the sauce as well and let that incorporate.

Take your fettuccine directly from the boiling water and put it in the pan with your garlic & oil to let it coat completely. Then toss in a handful or two of whichever grated cheese you have on hand and toss to combine. Finally, I throw in some toasted pine nuts (which I keep ready to go in the fridge in a mini tupperware) just to add another texture and layer of flavor.

Divide into bowls, top with another pinch of grated cheese, and devour while hot. If you're a parsley person, then this would be the time you to garnish with chopped fresh parsley. But as I have never understood why anyone would want to use an herb that tastes like grass, I simply omit it from any recipe that calls for it. I would not, however, substitute fresh basil, because that has a distinctly different and strong flavor, and is not really the point of this meal. Dried oregano is much more mellow a choice for substitution.
This dinner should only take you 15 minutes, start to finish, and is really just an excuse to eat a ton of garlic in one sitting. And you can grate the garlic cloves while you're waiting for the water to come up to a boil so you're ready to drop it in the oil at the right time. It's very tasty and very satisfying.

Just don't make it right before going out for a night of karaoke. Not only will no one want to talk to you, but you will make the microphone reek, which is just bad karaoke etiquette.

Leftovers: French Fries

After a sodden weekend, and talking about fabulous salts, this seemed like a logical time to talk about soggy french fries.

So have you ever gotten take-out or delivery and when you open your meal, the side of usually amazing, crispy, roasted garlic pomme frites are all soggy from the trapped condensation? (Of course you have. There is just no way to get them home without that happening unless you live directly above the diner/restaurant.)

Well, here is my solution to limp fries: (executed last night when Mike brought some fries back with him, through the rain, after he'd gone out for late-night food w/ a couple of his friends.)

Take a dry, preferably non-stick pan, and set it on medium heat. Toss your fries right in and let them start to sizzle and crisp for about 5 minutes. Toss them every 2 minutes or so. Add a little more salt to the fries, as it should now stick since the heat has reactivated the oil in the fries. 

*This would be a good time to experiment with some more interesting salts as well...

Toss again, and after 10 minutes total, they should be hot and crisp again.

I cannot guarantee that this will work on fries that you might have had in the fridge overnight. Those might not be salvageable. But it works as a quick fix for just-delivered fries that did not survive the trip.

Photo of the Day

Because I couldn't NOT post this photo.

Enjoy.

Spring is in the air...

She's Salty!

I believe that is the first thing I ever heard my friend John Adler say to me... the things we remember. (He is now an awesome chef, having worked at Blue Hill at Stone Barnes, Per Se, and now at Franny's in Brooklyn. If you are not an East Coaster, those are AMAZING places to have worked.)

Anyhoo, I am writing this entry solely because of salt. And I think I have mentioned these before, only I haven't posted that blog yet (yes, sometimes I write in advance and save it for a day I am hungover, ill, have made a frozen pizza, or some other form of brain-dead.)

I have always been more of a sweet-tooth girl. Bring on the chocolate, the mints, the ice cream, the cake, the ice-cream-cake... you get the idea. I love french fries, but really I only need a few to satisfy my craving. When I want salt, I usually go for a couple corn chips with salsa or some such.

THIS however, is a whole other world of salt. It is the manna of salt. The mecca of salt. And yes, I got a birthday-in at Per Se when John was working there and had any number of different fancy salts, ranging from white to gray to pink and volcanic this-that... but I say the hell with those!!!
These salts are fantastic, and if you are only a mediocre cook, they can change your LIFE!
Or at least your perception of your own skills.

Let me start over with a little background. About two years ago, my sister-in-law gave me a trio of flavored "finishing" salts for Christmas. I was skeptical, because so many "flavored" salts and oils are full of chemicals and just don't come out right and aren't worth the high blood pressure. Also, they said not to cook directly with them, but rather to "finish" you meal with them. I thought, but then how do I cook beforehand without making the whole dish too salty? Because I can't imagine cooking meat without salting it at least a little beforehand. Well, to my amazement, these salts were superb, and it all works if you are a bit sparing with your kosher salt starting out.
Katie (Sis-in-law) gave me a trio of Niçoise Olive, Bloody Mary, and Lavender Rosemary finishing salts. And they are all 100% natural. No chemicals, just dehydrated ingredients mixed with quality sea salt. I have not begun to figure out all the ways in which to utilize them, but they have opened a new world of cooking for me when I get stuck.

For example: pork tenderloin. I love pork tenderloin, but it seems to be one of those dishes that you either need a really elaborate marinade for, or everyone just tells you to use garlic and rosemary. Well, Mike and I only like our rosemary in small doses, so that isn't the best flavor solution. And neither do I like to do a generic gravy over it because you lose some of the delicacy of flavor and texture when it's just buried under white wine and shallots. It may as well be chicken then.
But the Lavender Rosemary salt is delicate and also complex, and so makes the meat take on new depths.

IT'S REALLY GOOD, PEOPLE!!!

And no, I'm not getting any kickbacks from them.

I just recently went back to their website and discovered they had come out with a few new ones. Admittedly, there are a few I will shy away from, not really feeling them (*Cumin Pineapple Chili?!?! ). However, there are OTHERS that I ordered right away. Namely:
Truffle salt (soooooooooo good, but really strong. Not for the faint-hearted truffle-like-er)
& Chorizo salt - there aren't words. There just aren't.
*I take it back. That one now sounds really good on some outdoor grilled meat. Hmmm...


Now, a story:
There was this restaurant down-the-shore (yes, a Jersey phrase) called Europa's that my family would go to some Summers. And the only thing I remember about it was ordering the Spanish Sausage appetizer. It was literally just little discs of chorizo in garlic oil, and it was sublime. Of course, I was 8, so I had no idea what chorizo was, or that I was just eating a sliced up sausage. I just knew I really liked that dish.
The same goes with this salt.
I made a pork tenderloin tonight, very simply, and then used my two new salts as dippers for flavor, just to experiment.
My kitchen will never be the same again.
Neither will my blood pressure.
I'm going to have to decide each day whether I can have miso soup or if I'm going to make dinner with the flavoring salts, because I'm going to OD on sodium if I do both.
And like an ASS, I ordered the chorizo salt in the tester 1 oz. size, instead of the usual 3.5 oz.
WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!?!?

Anyhoo, if you cook, and if you like salt, go forth. Go forth and order these amazing salts, and thank me later. Because you will*.

*Note: I have only tried the ones mentioned. If you order the Apple 5 Spice or Cherry Pistachio and think they are not up your alley, do not blame me for sending you there, because I don't know about those first hand. I have only tried the 5 I mentioned, and I enjoy them all greatly. And if you don't like the ones I mentioned... what is WRONG with you???


**Bloomberg and whatever Brooklyn FOOL is trying to ban all salt from food in NYC: You are wrong. You are absurd (hello, ever tried to bake without salt?) and you really need to try these salts and instead just do some damned cardio!

Waiter, There Is Too Much Onion In My Booze

No, I am not talking about a martini with an onion in it (personally the only part of a martini I like are the olives). I'm talking about the Ina Garten recipe for Onion Soup that I chose to make tonight, which was a mistake on a few levels.

First of all, I am sitting here typing in a vague daze because I believe I have yet another sinus infection (took 3+ hrs to hear back from the doctor) and it is highly unpleasant. Sore throat for 2 days, itchy ears, green goo, body aches, etc...

*Some time I'll tell you about getting mono in college and how that has lead to a life of sinus infections. Baited breath, people, I know.


All that said, I got my hands on a Z-pack tonight, and so powered through and made that onion soup! Not only because I am dedicated to making it when I said I would and reporting back to all (?) of you, but also because I got the proper bowls at last, and cheese for the melty topping, talked to a real human about types of sherry to use, and finally because I have been dreaming about this friggin' soup all week!!!
And I was convinced that onion soup would make me feel better and sooth my sore & achey self... once it was finally made.
I was mistaken.
When you are sick, even if you aren't actually sick to your stomach, and you cook something rich that smells AMAZING and makes your whole home smell that way which is normally a good thing... it can sometimes backfire and make you think you are gonna hork at any moment.
Not pleasant.
But it is a rainy weekend in NYC. Even more reason to make a giant pot of soup.
I guess I should have just opted for chicken noodle.

A few notes: when a soup recipe calls for 1/2 cup brandy, 1/2 cup sherry, and 1 and 1/2 cups white wine, even before you get to the broth, you should NOT do what I do and think, "That has got to be the best damned soup in the world." Instead you should think, "That is the largest hot toddy ever."
Even if it comes out to 2 1/2 cups booze to 8 cups stock, that's still a lot of booze.

Also, Ina (of course) calls for her onions to be sautéed in a stick of butter.
Le sigh.
I reconfigured and used 1/4 of a stick of butter, and the rest olive oil. There was still a sheen of fat glistening on the top in the end.

Finally, the only seasoning other than salt and pepper that she called for was one bay leaf. Boring in the extreme. But then I guess she just thought you'd be so hammered you wouldn't notice.
I tossed in some springs of fresh thyme at the end in an effort to add some fresher, less-boozy flavors.

If I have learned anything from this experiment (other than not to cook while feeling crappy) it is to ALWAYS START WITH JULIA!!! Then, if you do not like her version (you crazy person, you), branch out and see what other options are out there.

So, quick rundown.

The Setup

Significantly Less Butter Than Recommended

Onions: Raw, With Bay leaf

Onions: Browning/Caramelizing
(at this point, I was starting to feel woozy from cooking)

A POT OF BUBBLING ALCOHOL
This smelled so freaking fantastic, and yet to my under-the-weather self, I thought I was going to be sick at any moment. Next time I will add the fresh thyme at this stage, and cut the booze quantities in half.

The final product. Doesn't look like much liquid, but there are about 10 cups of liquid in there. I am also wondering if it was the type of beef broth I used to make this that made the alcohol flavors so much stronger. I used 4 cups of veal stock from glacé, which was very rich, but then I used Maggi cubes for the 4 cups of beef stock. I'm thinking that was maybe where I went wrong, but the only other brand I could find in the store was College Inn... and I kinda don't trust them.
Anyone use a lot of beef broth and have one they like? Please do pass along your preferences. I couldn't even find Campbell's.

I am sorry that I do not have a picture of the finished soup in my new (white won after all, simple) onion soup crock, but I felt so tired and sick at this point that the idea of eating the boozy-smelling soup was just not in the cards, promise of gooey melted cheese or no.
 However, the sick feeling did dissipate pretty much the minute I added in the 8 cups of varied stock, so I was just sick from effort. Maybe tomorrow once the smell of the rain and the wind off the river have cleared out our apartment a bit, and I've taken another round of antibiotics, I'll be able to dive in and enjoy this soup. Maybe it's just being sick that is making me taste the soup as a bit "off". But I think in my next attempt, and there will be a next attempt, I will make Julia's recipe. Which also calls for white wine and cognac... just in much smaller quantities.
I have learned my lesson Julia, and I am so sorry to have veered from your scientifically proven path.
Live and learn. And try, try again.
And I will try again soon.

*Verdict Day 2: The soup is actually rather tasty today, tho definitely due to addition of fresh thyme and a pinch more white pepper. Leaving it to meld overnight (and me to heal) has done wonders for both of us.

Addendum:

He may be tough to cook for, and he may not have a villa in Italy for us to retire to. He may not clean up/prepare for house guests (always somehow his friend or family) as well as I'd like him to, and he may turn on a new video game to play even when I tell him dinner will be ready in 15 minutes... but he's also a really good guy.

Finicky Fred

Or in this case, Mike.
So I'm writing this blog largely about food, but I should explain something before continuing with all the recipes.

I have forgotten how to cook.

No, really. I don't remember how I used to cook when I was single. I'm sure I used things like vinegar and mustard all the time, but because those are two things Mike can't stand the smell or taste of, I have had to work around them. And now I forget about them sometimes when I'm cooking for myself. But more often I just can't serve a recipe I see because it contains something Mike won't touch.
And I have tried sneaking minute amounts of dijon mustard into Croque Monsieurs and he still tastes it and won't touch it. And I usually need his services as plate-cleaner at the end of meals, so I don't want to make myself something he won't eat. (My eyes are bigger than my stomach. What can I say?)

A sampling of Things Mike Won't Eat:
Vinegar
Mustard
Shellfish
Crustaceans
Salmon
Sushi
Mayonnaise
Salad Dressing In ANY Form
Salsa
Sour Cream
Guacamole
(let's just say all condiments except the occasional ketchup & BBQ)
Onion Soup
Tuna (the mayo)
Mushrooms
Olives
Asparagus
Raw Tomato
and other stuff I can't think of at the moment because it's too frustrating.

I do not know how he survived before I met him, because he did not eat anything healthy. I sometimes have to trick him by putting the frozen chopped spinach in a baked ziti so it blends with the tomato and ricotta and he doesn't taste it, like tricking a little kid. I had to twist his arm to convince him that he would enjoy broccoli if I roasted it, if he would just TRY it. And now he eats it all the time. So, He Can Be Taught. It just takes a bit of convincing.
We have been together for 6 years now and he has come a long way as far as trying things and branching out, but it has been an uphill battle. If he had his way, I think Mike would only eat BBQ Bacon Cheeseburgers and Tater Tots, with French Fries as a swap. And there is nothing wrong w/ a BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger... I have frequently stated my love of bacon. But that should not be a regular meal for a person who wants to live past age 50.

So that, dear readers, is why the dinner recipes I post may seem to have tunnel vision. I have a finicky, Meat and Potatoes Man in the house, and it's taking time to break him of his habits and dislikes.
I really hope that some day I can finish a dish with a balsamic drizzle again. You have no idea how much I miss balsamic vinegar. I could drink the stuff, I love it so much. But it's the kind of thing that lingers on the breath, so if I have it at lunch, Mike can tell when he kisses me hello after work. So, a good tip if I'm annoyed with him and want to keep him at arm's length, but not something I want to do regularly.

All I can say is, thank heaven he likes garlic & isn't a Lactard*, cuz that would have been a deal breaker!

*For those who don't know, some people cannot process dairy foods. Their bodies just do not like it and it is very unpleasant for them to try to digest it at all. This is a great shame, because there are oh so many lovely cheeses and cream sauces to be had. (No, Suzanne, I still do not believe that something made out of pistachios can be considered "cheese".) These people are usually referred to as Lactose Intolerant. But that is a long phrase, and makes them sound like they don't LIKE dairy, and Intolerance is not something that should be practiced. So instead, I call them Lactards. And I say it with love, and pity. Lots and lots of pity.

Sandwich + Hot Press = So Much TASTINESS!!!

General tip for healthy living: Do not watch food programming late at night. You WILL get up and make yourself a snack.
At least, you will if you are anything like me... and one of the easiest things to make for a snack, is a sandwich.

There is a wide world of sandwiches out there, far, far beyond the sliced turkey, seasoning, greens + cheese sandwiches that I pack for my husband for school every day. And I'm not talking about PB&J or tuna. I'm talking about hot, melty sandwiches.

The variations that can happen between the simplest of grilled cheese sandwiches and the world of panini permutations is vast, and really there are so many ways of concocting these sandwiches, I do not think it is fair to judge one as superior to another. It's all just what you're hankering for. Some days, a simple grilled cheese is fine. Other days you want it with fresh tomato and bacon inside. Other days you want grilled vegetables, fresh mozzarella, & pesto pressed between two halves of ciabatta. All have their merits. (And all contain delicious melty cheese.) It's just what you're in the mood for.

I have made some killer panini in the past, and it's the kind of thing that Mike loves but forgets about until I make one again. However, tonight I watched a "Throwdown with Bobby Flay" even tho I really do not like him, because Olga Merediz was judging the throw-down which is two words, Bobby! And if you do not know who Olga Merediz is, that is too bad because that means you have not seen In The Heights which was written by and starred my friend Lin, and is a FANTASTIC show, and on which original (oh-so-less professional) production at Wesleyan University I served as Master Electrician and later Lighting Designer because the original LD was in a car accident before we could load-in, and we were sharing the space w/ a dance performance that I was ALSO working on at the time, and it was all an absurd hot mess.
But the show was a smash hit even then, so, all good. I just didn't leave the theater for more than 30 minutes at a time for about 3 days.

But I digress.
The Throw Down (2 words!!!) was about Cubano sandwiches, and while I am in no way well versed in Cubano sandwiches, that did not stop me from craving one on the spot. Well... minus the pickle, because I just do not understand pickle on sandwiches. On a cheeseburger, sometimes yes. On the side, sure. But otherwise I have yet to understand or appreciate a pickle actually embedded in my sandwich.

Digressing again.
This meant that I had to go to my kitchen and create something close, or at least somewhat related, to what I had just witnessed.
I did not have any fancy rolls or anything, but I did have whole wheat bread, deli turkey, sliced prosciutto, and provolone cheese. Slap a little dijon mustard (on my half, as Mike will not touch the stuff) and set it in the Griddler w/ a little butter on the bread and you have one really freakin' tasty sandwich.
And yes, we'd already eaten dinner, which is why I only made a half for each of us.
But really, when your tummy calls, you'd better answer, because that b*tch ain't lettin' you sleep easy until you have placated her to some degree.
And man was she pleased with what I served up :)
And I may have to recreate it for lunch today...

Update: I think tomorrow night will be the big night of making French Onion Soup. It's going to be rainy all weekend and my home is being invaded by some of Mike's former Groomsmen, so I think while they are out carousing I will take up my post over my cauldron, er, soup pot.
And just like the panini, the best part of French Onion Soup is all the melty cheese on top. I have been dreaming about the melty cheese on top of my soup. In fact, I may make even more melted cheese crostini to go serve with the soup than is strictly necessary.
But when is cheese NOT necessary?
I don't think there is such an occasion.

Halloween is only 234 days away!!!

Found these in an undisclosed catalogue that somehow found me again a decade and 3 apartments later...

 They're kind of so awful that I want to buy them and base my entire 2010 Halloween costume around them. Plus, as a bonus, they are black and purple, and I'm a total sucker for purple.

But those heel-webs just look like they are asking for multiple blisters and tearing all attempts at wearing pantyhose.

But they also have those classy wing-tip perforations around the toe cap! Grr...

I think I will stick to other inspirations for Halloween 2010. But they are some insane shoes, and attention had to be paid.

Marketing Fail

Ok, this is seriously F*cked Up.

As previously mentioned, I have two cats. Byron, who is extremely lovable, but in no way smart. He will also eat just about anything you feed him. Unfortunately, he is allergic to all things seafood, so I have to be very careful about what I buy or else we end up with Spastic Colon Kitty, which is in NO WAY cute or fun.

On the other hand we have Keats, who can eat anything she wants. Unfortunately, she doesn't want much. She's incredibly fussy, and additionally she sometimes will not eat if you are in the room with her. I think that stems from the crazy house we got her out of - something to do with Alpha Females and her definitely not being one of them. But there is one thing she will eat:

She freaking loves these things. They are like kitty-crack for her, and if I let her, they would be all she ever ate. If I leave a bag on the counter she will eat right through the bag so she can get the treats. She's obsessed, and lets me know about it at Treat O'Clock every day.
The only down side for her is that she has to stick to the beef and chicken flavors because of Dippy.

But that's not the point.

Look at the label. It's a silly cat laying on its back, dreaming of the crunchy treats it loves. Harmless. What you would expect.

Well, I got a new shipment of treats the other day, and they have changed the design on the bag.

How twisted is this?!?! "Whoohoo, got your tail feathers! Next I'm gonna eatcha!" And the bird looks happy! Like it's a game!

And the Beef ones are just as bad!

(*More exclamation points!!!!!!!!)

Yum! I am SITTING ON MY UNWITTING DINNER! Look at how vacant the cow looks! I'm just chewing my cud, unaware that there is a cat with full bib & silverware sitting on my back. (Last I checked, cats didn't have thumbs, so can't use silverware. In fact, if they DID have thumbs, they wouldn't need us at all because they could open their own cans of food.)

I'm just saying, marketing people at Whiskas: You are F*CKED UP!!!

Perfect Casting

I just saw the greatest commercial!
(Followed by the worst commercial... you know the one with the sad music and all the mistreated animals and you shout at the TV "I'll rescue them! I'll rescue THEM ALL!! Just stop making me look at their sad little faces!!" Yeah, that one.)

Anyway, the great commercial. We've all seen commercials for things like magic mops, robes that are worn backwards on the couch, and things like automated soap dispensers for people who are so backward that they shoot their regular pump-dispenser across the room just trying to wash their hands. Well, this is kind of another one of those ads, only they got the perfect person to do the voice over:
Gilbert Gottfried!!!!
You can't tell if he's really hawking the product, or just mocking every commercial that makes a human look too stupid to use a light switch without electrocuting themselves.
Watch!

A Quick Thank-You

Just wanted to say Thank You to my friend Sassy for giving me a shout-out on her blog and sending all this new traffic my way. I shall refrain from posting embarrassing pics from college (mostly because I look like crap in all of them!) but a little TQ Memory Lane:

Vamping in my first NYC apartment on E 18th Street, back in 2002

Celebrating my 30th birthday.

You're next, chica!!!

Mwah!