tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66350832954203346932024-02-07T06:57:00.121-06:00Any Little ReasonUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger62125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-2938451866689023452009-07-13T15:24:00.002-05:002009-07-13T15:38:58.436-05:00Fast Food<em><span style="color:#330000;">Prepared and fast foods have given us the time and freedom to see cooking as an art form - a form of creative expression.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Jeff Smith</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">My, how meals have changed around here. The closer I got to the end of my pregnancy, the less I cooked - and now, with an <a href="http://www.thelittlestreason.blogspot.com/">8-week old</a>....I'm just now beginning to find myself in the kitchen for reasons more than grabbing a bottle of water or the pint of ice cream.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">The only thing that has changed more than the types of food we're consuming is how we're consuming it. Dinners for us used to be extended affairs, full of conversation and multiple courses...leisurely taken in and enjoyed. These days we're lucky if we both sit down to eat at the same time, and I can't even count the number of hot meals we've had lately. There is something internal that babies must possess that allows them to sleep deeply right until you are ready to sit down to a meal.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I've tried to limit the amount of takeout and work on preparing meals in advance, taking advantage of naptimes to throw something in the slow cooker or using a brief 15 minute period of peace to get everything chopped/sliced/peeled/set out on the counter in the order it will be needed...but even so, it usually takes me about an hour and a half to make the easiest of dishes - and the results haven't been photo friendly.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I'm hoping to eventually find my balance between the changing table and the dinner table...but until I do, we can look forward to more stir fry, pasta, and other one-dish wonders.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-22448351833821284412009-04-28T10:24:00.005-05:002009-04-28T10:52:15.660-05:00Thank You For Being a Friend<div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><em>Because you don't live near a bakery doesn't mean you have to go without cheesecake.</em> </span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Hedy Lamarr</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329766618155654418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 222px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpY_0EO-m2fU-5XglKrRKANSbpy-7w61zXZH-YIMdAX9uKhpJNEm4FsCjeiMtd64YlwM58HzQA0BLBJHasN02WqGrbcN72WSp9RqW93F3i-lb1cXFgVJjXREfcUBKaQH-aSJd9dh_GSPXx/s320/729Obit_Arthur_sff_embedded_prod_affiliate_138.jpg" border="0" /></span></div></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I have a confession: I love The Golden Girls. I still watch reruns in syndication, even though I've seen every episode numerous times. My husband makes fun of me, but it's just one of those things I can't quit.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Now that Bea Arthur has passed away, leaving only two members of that revered foursome, I'm inclined to curl up on the couch with a cheesecake and a marathon. Specifically, this cheesecake - the easiest, creamiest, most delicious cheesecake I've ever made. The filling is reminiscent of light chocolate mousse, and the crust of chocolate chip cookies is chewy and decadent.</span></p><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329767962054381906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 312px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmn8UEi-jsE5wgBYVuYI6Oi0qzF77m0OJvrJ9TkH58OdiDK92Y8EUPEcc_4lQX8Bzv4mdLeZd5IEWYUde-lmz2_N3qpY0kbGsBPNhvyMkEtM5MophX_w8TZgXpwf3NzUcgeIA-VVUyM5u/s320/29617lrg.jpg" border="0" />Oddly enough, Bea Arthur hated cheesecake, even though her character on the show loved it. In a way, I guess that makes this tribute less touching - but since my love for her stems from the sharp sarcasm of Dorothy Zbornak, it's my way of honoring her.<br /></span><p><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><u>Chocolate Chip Cheesecake</u></strong><br />1 pkg. (16.5 oz.) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Refrigerated Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough<br />2 pkgs. (8 oz. each) cream cheese, softened<br />1 cup granulated sugar<br />4 packets (1 oz. each) NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® CHOCO BAKE® Pre-Melted Unsweetened Chocolate Flavor<br />2 containers (8 oz. each) frozen whipped topping, thawed<br />1/2 cup NESTLÉ® TOLL HOUSE® Semi-Sweet Chocolate Morsels, melted</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Preheat oven to 375º F. Grease a 9-inch springform pan. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Slice dough into 16 pieces. Cover bottom of prepared pan with pieces. Allow to soften for 5 to 10 minutes. Using fingertips, pat dough gently to cover bottom. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Bake for 15 to 17 minutes or until light golden brown. Cool completely in pan on wire rack.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Combine cream cheese, sugar and choco bake in a large mixing bowl until well blended. Add whipped topping; stir until just blended. Spoon over cookie crust; smooth top. Drizzle with melted chocolate. Cover; refrigerate for 3 to 4 hours or overnight. Remove sides of pan. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;"></span> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-81938917835805229442009-03-23T16:56:00.005-05:002009-03-23T17:18:08.396-05:00Brownie Points<em><span style="color:#330000;">If you are not feeling well, if you have not slept, chocolate will revive you. But you have no chocolate! I think of that again and again! My dear, how will you ever manage?</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Marquise de Sévigné</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316507014853177298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 228px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 299px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkPGugs30VkUJfvF_mKWPI7DzFuH-FB1NfjLr5qDYf8fYcGnSbZ6rlnMUw_kiFP028cQh-FYV01QhlAugNOqW2TzURprTac2jFOR1NDbDgLwyo0TEZRpsQZ5jG_ACJgL44sZYRAN8jjon/s320/010.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="color:#330000;">Before I got pregnant, I was never much of a sweets eater. My tendency to eat sugary snacks didn't extend much further than fruit, popsicles, the occasional milkshake. I rarely eat my own birthday cake, and at my wedding, the only cake that passed my lips was a result of the obligatory shot of my husband and I feeding it to each other.</span><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">However, dessert has been a routine for me since I've been pregnant, and my cravings for sweet things overcomes me at times. I've tried to keep it in check, but the desire for donuts, ice cream, cookies, cupcakes, and candy bars has become much stronger than my willpower. These days, the casual question "You know what sounds good?" is immediately followed by my announcement of whatever craving has popped up, combined with an impatient frustration that it's not right in front of me yet, why am I not eating it yet, where is it?</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">When I got hit with the need for brownies, mixed with a strong urge for a cupcake, I decided to take matters into my own hands and combine the two. I used a mini-muffin tin to make bite-sized brownie "cupcakes" - and they were amazing. I didn't put any frosting on them, in an effort to keep the sugar intake a bit lower, but these didn't need frosting anyway - they were rich and decadent, chewy and soft with just a bit of a crispy edge.<br /></span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><u>Brownie Bites</u></strong><br /><br />1/2 cup (1 stick) butter or margarine, melted<br />1 cup sugar<br />1 teaspoon vanilla extract<br />2 eggs<br />1/2 cup all-purpose flour<br />1/3 cup HERSHEY'S Cocoa<br />1/4 teaspoon baking powder<br />1/4 teaspoon salt </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Heat oven to 350°F. Grease muffin tin (or preferred pan). </span></p><span style="color:#330000;">- Stir together butter, sugar and vanilla in bowl. Add eggs; beat well with spoon. Stir together flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt; gradually add to egg mixture, beating until well blended. Stir in nuts, if desired. Spread batter evenly in prepared pan. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Bake until brownies begin to pull away from sides of pan and toothpick inserted into center comes out clean. (Cooking times will vary depending on size pan used) Cool completely in pan on wire rack.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-90385964088054767662009-03-09T16:51:00.003-05:002009-03-09T17:04:47.625-05:00An Apple a Day<span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><span style="color:#330000;"><em>Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?</em> </span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Chuck Palahniuk</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311310052882154450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5prG55t1edtYQCszL8N3Ece27K6ZupnFFr40NpIvqU2Rm-LA0I5eQxp0HqumkPSJlqKY46UBbqIXSoKAC6hnUGQJbHoqoGcb50fKH2_bJR2ZLgddOBpdiNZRbagxrTVp7ehyphenhyphenjugkNCOQj/s320/010.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I found this recipe for an apple cheese crisp, and even though it was listed as a dessert recipe, I decided to make it for breakfast instead. The verdict? Eh. It would be better if it were baked (this recipe called for microwave preparation, which I didn't realize at the time) but I don't know that I liked it enough to try it again differently. I will say the flavors were good, and the apples were tender. The topping wasn't nearly crunchy enough, but the filling was creamy and sweet. At any rate, it wasn't a bad way to spend a drab Saturday morning.</span></p><p><strong><u><span style="color:#330000;">Apple Cheese Crisp</span></u></strong></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">6 cups sliced peeled apples<br />1/3 cup sugar<br />2 tbsp. flour<br />1 tbsp. lemon juice<br />1 tsp. cinnamon<br />1/4 tsp. salt<br /><br />Filling:<br />4 ounces cream cheese, softened<br />1/4 cup sugar<br />1 egg<br />1 tbsp. flour<br />1 tbsp. milk<br /><br />Topping:<br />3/4 cup quick-cooking oats<br />2/3 cup flour<br />1/2 cup brown sugar<br />1 tsp. cinnamon<br />5 tbsp. butter<br /><br />- In a 2 qt. microwave-safe dish, toss the first six ingredients. Microwave uncovered for 8 minutes, stirring once halfway through.<br />- In a mixing bowl, beat cream cheese and sugar, then add egg, flour & milk, mix well and spread evenly over apples.<br />- In another bowl, combine oats, flour, brown sugar and cinnamon. Add butter and mix until crumbly. Sprinkle over filling and microwave, uncovered, for 6 minutes or until apples are tender.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-56574376131548817202009-03-04T13:33:00.002-06:002009-03-04T14:00:47.275-06:00Such a Goober<div><em><span style="color:#330000;">No man in the world has more courage than the man who can stop after eating one peanut.</span></em></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Channing Pollock</span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span> </div><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309418620482779826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDOZuKsrU6-j9eQtSVZHy6BF874dwQSTcJSjn8RhhVmEW0EDTqmmorn0grdc4jNOuL26Sqb9bfoB886Et5c8D0abgqCjMdaceoDD8889VJ1q8mDUTRwaVv0LynVhnPf6TwpR3zcV-g8BwA/s320/007.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">When I was little, we'd take annual family vacations to the beach - usually Southern Florida, where my dad had family. This meant long drives through desolate highways in Georgia, past numerous produce stands with hand-painted signs hawking fresh peaches, ripe tomatoes, and hot boiled peanuts. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">My dad got me hooked on boiled peanuts at a very early age. They are an aquired taste, and from what I've learned, you either love them or hate them. Loving peanuts is not even a requirement, as they taste more like salty beans. Peanut boils date back to the early 19th century, when they were done as a social gathering. They were also known then as "goober peas", as it was typically the unsold and surplus peanuts that were used for boiling.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">A few weeks ago, I was craving peanuts (these pregnancy cravings know no bounds) and so my husband went to the store to grab a bag. He came home with a sheepish look on his face, and timidly held out a bag of unsalted peanuts with the apology that it was the only thing the store had in stock. While my reaction at the time was a bit dramatic (think tears and a weak attempt to reassure him it was fiiiiiine, I can SO totally eat these - followed by a vehement refusal to do so once I tried one), I decided to stop staring at them in our pantry and do something with them.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I soaked the peanuts overnight in a Dutch oven, then drained and rinsed them the following morning. I then added fresh water to the pan (enough to cover them), 1/2 cup of salt and a tablespoon or so of Cajun seasoning, and brought them to a boil. Once they began boiling, I reduced the heat to medium low and let them simmer for about 6 hours. We ended up with tender peanuts, salty and spicy - the perfect solution to a near disaster.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-29563839360548051312009-03-02T14:30:00.003-06:002009-03-02T15:12:31.058-06:00Kiss My Grits<em><span style="color:#330000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#330000;">True grits, more grits, fish, grits, and collards. Life is good where grits are swallered.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Roy Blount, Jr. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308691540081272690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_CeMN05K2DUe6l7MZxRnUdY94fJrc0BFQqhIfOyczuxr9PXWyDXUFufzaiFxKHyYXoqpsM6aG3oh-e2FOwA9RDXAokPBOEy_td730rh-rekJ8rzFqkEOQ9TvZ84F0bKU1hLktdKfLgryW/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">As someone who grew up in the South, eating Southern food and learning to cook from a very Southern grandmother, I am very familiar with grits and am accustomed to having them served many different ways. When I began sharing meals on a regular basis with my husband, it alarmed me that he had rarely eaten grits - and more so, didn't enjoy them at all. I can certainly relate to that, as grits can be incredibly dull and bland. However, given the proper care and attention, they can certainly add to and enhance a meal.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Three years after that conversation, shrimp & grits is one of my husband's favorite meals. I guess it's the combination of crispy bacon, cheesy grits and spicy shrimp - a medley far too good to resist. The key is cooking the bacon until extra crisp, then sauteeing mushrooms, shrimp and garlic in the pan drippings, along with cajun seasoning and a dash of tobasco. Grits swirled with butter and shredded white cheddar serve as the creamy foundation to plump shrimp, tender mushrooms, and smoky bacon pieces. I usually finish this dish with chopped green onions but didn't have any on hand this time around. Nonetheless, this is a simple and comforting meal that shows grits as much more than an accompaniment to a traditional Southern breakfast.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-4154097737916248102009-02-05T09:55:00.004-06:002009-02-09T15:32:36.429-06:00Gone Bananas<em><span style="color:#330000;">The smell of good bread baking, like the sound of lightly flowing water, is indescribable in its evocation of innocence and delight.</span></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- M. F. K. Fisher </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299349599152903730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheDfLI-Zpw_bEc5_8fdtmIGI7oFWtZyqyhrb7Sxpdu_7L8ffXoznj2sWQX2wMWj65DVgpftdZnQ4zUyZzCOgDEpm65C1Shka8GR1ivmDhfncmUnR2EO8TasJd5O-vVB7WMFe4oBVqCF2iR/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I buy bananas for the sole purpose of making banana bread. We usually both eat one banana out of a bunch, and then they sit on the counter waiting for their time. I think banana bread is just a way for the banana to extend its usefulness to society, and I respect that.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">This recipe is adapted from <em>The Joy of Cooking</em> - the best part is the addition of peanut butter. I love peanut butter and banana sandwiches, so it seemed a natural fit to me. It creates a very tender cake, with a hint of salty peanut taste to counteract the sweetness. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><strong><u><span style="color:#330000;">Peanut Butter Banana Bread</span></u></strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 cups flour</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 tsp. baking powder</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 tsp. cinnamon-sugar blend</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/2 tsp. baking soda</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/4 tsp. salt</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/4 tsp. nutmeg</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 egg</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 cup brown sugar</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">3-4 ripe bananas</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 1/2 cups creamy peanut butter</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">5 tbsp. vegetable oil</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Preheat oven to 375. In a large bowl, combine the first 6 ingredients.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- In a separate bowl, combine the last 5 ingredients, ensuring bananas are mashed well.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Add wet mixture to dry mixture and mix well, until just moistened. Pour into greased muffin cups or loaf pan (I use mini loaf pans) and bake until a toothpick inserted into the bread comes out clean, about 18-22 minutes (this will depend on whether you're using muffin tin or loaf pan).</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">* On another note, I'm heading to Mississippi today to attend a funeral - and while it's a sad occasion, I have a touch of guilty excitement at seeing my grandmother and enjoying some true Southern cooking.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-5448279996300134162009-02-02T11:06:00.003-06:002009-02-09T15:33:18.279-06:00Queso Ra, Sera<span style="color:#330000;"><em>The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.</em> </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">~G.K. Chesterton</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298253797329518898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDunWsNHcpUiK6m55DhnsdrPruzLXANJhHcoh1joqMSSUThEmS0jkDF5XdwI_d0nOEpUbx1VDQt3FPg1bDae92utghyphenhyphencmCuuRg-UKsnY7zFNVo7BBdTHK_edzfIs1vgV-HDnBtg02_KB6c/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">It has taken me many years to come to grips with the following fact: I am not laid back.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I am particular about things that don't matter, I worry about circumstances that will never come to pass, I get worked up easily. Luckily, I found in my husband a man that finds this endearing instead of infuriating. When he witnesses me making a conscious effort to let things slide, and failing miserably, he rolls his eyes knowingly. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Preparing to welcome a child into our lives is proving to be a test for me. I'm constantly thinking about the future, wondering about how things will be, all the while knowing that I have zero control. Fortunately, I have the kitchen - my haven when I get overwhelmed and need to relax. When I'm experimenting with a new ingredient, trying a new recipe, or creating one of my favorite dishes, I'm serene...I disregard the stress and welcome the calm.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I found this recipe for chile con queso from </span><a href="http://newlywedcooking.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="color:#000066;">Culinary Adventures of a New Housewife</span> </span></a><span style="color:#330000;">and had to try it. Queso is one of my favorite snacks, and after spending a sunny day nervously watching my husband perch atop a ladder to clean our gutters, I needed comfort. The result is a lighter version of queso, tangy from lime and beer, with a kick of spice thanks to chili powder. We settled in to watch the Super Bowl, and as I curled up under my favorite quilt with this snack in hand, I let go.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><strong><u><span style="color:#330000;">Chile con Queso</span></u></strong><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 tsp olive oil</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 medium onion, chopped</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 cloves garlic, minced</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/2 cup light colored beer</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 1/2 cups milk, divided</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">3 tbsp cornstarch</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 3/4 cup shredded sharp Cheddar</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 10 oz can Rotel (drained)</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 tbsp fresh lime juice</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 tsp salt</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 tsp chili powder</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">cayenne pepper to taste</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/4 cup scallions</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 tbsp fresh cilantro</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion & garlic, and saute until beginning to soften and brown. Add beer and cook until reduced slightly, about 1 minute. Add 1 cup milk and bring to a simmer.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Whisk the remaining 1/2 cup milk and cornstarch in a small bowl. Add to the saucepan and cook, stirring constantly, until bubbling and thick, about 1-2 minutes. Reduce heat to low, add cheese and cook, stirring until melted. Add tomatoes, lime juice, salt, chili powder and cayenne (if using). Serve warm, garnished with cilantro & scallions.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-40732971939098401112009-01-22T15:23:00.001-06:002009-01-22T16:06:52.613-06:00Food Fight<em><span style="color:#330000;">Food Throwers: Begun usually by estranged couples, once this victual flinging starts, everyone will do it... </span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#330000;"></span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><em>- </em>J.P. Donleavy<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294241277608418354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 360px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvxV63uI_OolC1kCnWqvjC-Gs9hwWo-v24OEUh84KsobFFPXWb2xmE8DQsc7J9aZa7wJHVQ7b_oANGipmWlkURKmoIxL4mKI_gj-IRaIK1rF9bHdhjL30_wnKP6aWcVRwHUOaeAVgZiu0F/s400/food+fight.jpg" border="0" /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Fighting in relationships is normal.* Conflict will occur; things will be said that are hurtful and painful. In the heat of a passionate argument, it’s hard to step back and detach ourselves from the situation long enough to think about what we’re saying before the words come out. Once words have been released, they can’t be taken back. Only once we’ve calmed down and relaxed can we understand the true impact of our words.<br /><br />When it comes time to say we’re sorry, how do we determine where to start? In most situations, both parties will alternately feel regret and defiance that they were right – leading to the awkward moments before one person steps up to begin to make amends.<br /><br />Imagine a situation where in an argument, we hurl food instead of insults. How much more willing would we be to stop and think first? It’s easy to toss degrading comments…but how easy would it be to toss food in someone’s face?<br /><br />Food fights, just like verbal arguments, end in a messy pile. They require cleanup afterwards – be it physical or emotional. It’s necessary to pick up the pieces…throwing away the things that aren’t salvageable and accepting the notion that our energies and contents have been emptied and wasted.<br /><br />Apologizing can happen over a meal more enjoyably than without. Food allows us to bond over what we enjoy, while bringing a sort of solace to an unpleasant and uncomfortable situation. It broadens our senses and our abilities to relax and react more favorably. Next time you find yourself in the wrong, mend the fences with a meal.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">*This is not inspiration from a fight, oddly enough...despite my hormones, I'm surprisingly mellow these days.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">(Photo courtsey of </span><a href="http://www.gigglepoetry.com/"><span style="color:#330000;">www.gigglepoetry.com</span></a><span style="color:#330000;">)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-33353858031217333902009-01-19T12:01:00.012-06:002009-01-19T12:36:58.543-06:00National Popcorn Day<em><span style="color:#663300;">Of course life is bizarre, the more bizarre it gets, the more interesting it is. The only way to approach it is to make yourself some popcorn and enjoy the show.</span></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#663300;">- Unknown</span><span style="color:#663300;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293067379771525138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 136px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjw-JGOvVderUZCxyPjWbkwRz4zib6jxjnC4AF5q8-FSh433XjQ2-qhjg8NAacLRjHL5P5nad2SH6l__40UTBMevJK6GDYijec8DioSdf45zOm97GoVzJxw4oTWFVHMGuzKR2NV9XpfL6o/s400/popcorn.jpg" border="0" /><br /></span><span style="color:#663300;">Today is National Popcorn Day. For me, that requires celebration. Popcorn is by far my favorite snack - I could eat it daily and never tire of it. Over the years, I've tried every variety I can get my hands on - and I have finally narrowed my favorites down to the following:</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#663300;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293072508818991218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 101px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 86px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7QJPuLdU6OPCPXmt47IpuiKFtrYIX9bCBRhNqzyfVqWExxjKdzzPhBvgoLS-Aw2EHx54qTH-WqZKULZkEEDMnOBZQSLZvUQWVDkbRi0A6AxODlxkLGuwvnRWwVhjVWmpVSyHenzKKQljp/s400/pop+secret.jpg" border="0" /><span style="color:#663300;">Pop Secret Homestyle is my pick for a basic microwave variety - it has the flavor of real butter, not that fake orange stuff most brands have. It's lightly salted, and each bag pops perfectly, without burned pieces or extra kernels at the bottom.</span><br /><span style="color:#663300;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293074177056275634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 180px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPZyvkz3d9_iof8_p9iKbvbyNFA22XTc5R-9_2JTHFkp5UG8_RvdZ648szk3M_BZI3hJfZunqR1wiFEibeocjIrF77DhRPTUyTGl0tUgW1qNFJRifT5RlnqkKOQNrv_i1DwJTpb6ri4GQi/s400/moose.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="color:#663300;">When I'm in the mood for something sweet, I go for Moose Head Kettle Corn</span><span style="color:#663300;"> - slightly sweet, slightly salty, airy and crunchy - this stuff is addictive.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293071879139701202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 97px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 68px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AhkcFVId5MY4ca1DrQnQX3ZWCpaahdlJTlvL_abXwPy3dEn817WCdpn1qLTgx6I_IY6cRMSaFTZzBRUBYuXpzXaP6VlrY7pALr9nFI8395Sc2eVZok5r7Aty85YMXjWik-IbPkjDwx-5/s400/white+cheddar.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="color:#663300;">White cheddar popcorn is probably my favorite flavor - I buy Cousin Willie's microwave variety, and Smartfood air-popped for road trips and on the go snacking. My husband complains they both smell like feet, but it doesn't deter me one bit.</span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293071881362543730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 114px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 114px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT87HWRPquXB_X0mDBcgxBE2X80ykkBmmgAzJ-KDG4AJ8t8v3JZqS3TmAmL0MQiBEwUElgN7jVpqTrG2KvICtF0BZkAhc7GyvqY4LV76kLcIQ8CUsRFbdQnFVBps9Vjrbm01c7mFG2Ih9w/s400/smartfood+white+ched.jpg" border="0" /> <span style="color:#663300;">When I want to make popcorn the "real" way, popped on the stove, I use the Whirley Pop that my sister-in-law bought me for Christmas a few years ago, combined with Orville Redenbacher's Popping & Topping Oil. </span><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293071883187225426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 132px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 118px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiULLih7djA8haH_WUS9QbFS9Vy7AR1aF3RlxxAqvm3SJwXnkhOMFg-7cITO0BT91-qpkxI-9eLvalRj4Bhyphenhyphenvc-Br8J8tXrJXQqjLkvxZ1nM_olQPqZohlclzKh3a_CpGuRYGPZYR9BUyRT/s400/whirley+pop.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#663300;">It's no wonder popcorn gets its own National Day.<br /></span><div> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-19030037666302679622009-01-18T16:18:00.001-06:002009-02-09T15:33:54.531-06:00Comfortably Numb<em></em><br /><span style="color:#663300;"><em>Food is the most primitive form of comfort.</em><br />- Sheilah Graham </span><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248617555587841442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXAiLbbP0q473xGNjPnx_ZXE4fQKfSAeRVLW51yPGrwybYZ3vCrnWSeXM2WPLpE1LCZTMw6E89h0nBD4bC6NYqOSWZYucymqpbDyoMJNJxt6hzqsxdeEdyTtwwyz4MPx694uX2GjPk0YD/s320/364.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Rainy days require a special sort of planning and essentials to make it through. For me, it takes an amount of willpower and strength (and repeated “You are going to make us late, GET UP”-type comments) before I can even put one foot on the floor. The temptation to pull the covers over my head, sleep til noon, then spend a day on the couch with my grandmother’s quilt, watching crappy tv and eating equally crappy foods (think: potato soup followed by chips and queso followed by cupcakes followed by French fries) is far too strong. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">But let’s say you do get out of bed. That leads to the shower that isn’t long enough, the tea that isn’t strong enough, and the clothes that aren’t comfy enough. Figuring out what to wear on a rainy blah day is tough. The pants can’t be too long or they’ll stay damp all day. The shoes have to be safe so you don’t slip and fall (and trust me on this, I don’t own any of said shoes). When all you want to do is curl up in a ball, comfort is key. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Comfort is also key when it comes to rainy day cuisine. I have found, after years of living in Nashville, the most exceptional collection of comfort foods that are best suited to gloomy days…be it due to weather, breakups, mood swings, or any combination of the three. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">First we have Amerigo's</span><span style="color:#330000;">, and the smoked chicken ravioli. It’s served with a cream sauce that has the perfect balance of depth and lightness, with tomatoes and scallions, accompanied by a flash fried artichoke. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Along that same vein, I urge that Demos' Steak & Spaghetti House </span><span style="color:#330000;">is next on the list. They have two stuffed potatoes, one with seafood in a Newburg Sauce and diced tomatoes, onions, peppers, and mushrooms, and one with blackened chicken and a spicy Cajun cream sauce. Both are served with soup or salad, and are just the right amount. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">On the days where it’s rainy, yet warm, I prefer a Fried Green Tomato BLT from </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Jackson’s</span><span style="color:#330000;">. They have a covered patio, perfect for protection from the rain and people watching. A glass of fruit tea or wine, and I forget whatever foul mood I’m in. Another great rainy day sandwich is found at </span><span style="color:#330000;">The Yellow Porch</span><span style="color:#330000;">, an intimate setting with exceptional food. I have never been there where I ordered anything other than the White Cheddar and Tomato Panini. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br />My husband wants nothing more on a rainy day than to go to </span><span style="color:#330000;">Noshville</span><span style="color:#330000;"> and have Matzah ball soup. Regardless of the time of day, I’m hard pressed to steer from the French toast when we go there. It’s perfectly cooked and exactly what I search for in comfort food…warmth, texture, and above all else, filling. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">On days where I don't want to get out of the house, I rely on beef stroganoff to get me through...this is one of my all-time favorite dishes and there's nothing better than tender beef and creamy tangy sauce to soothe what ails me.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#330000;">Beef Stroganoff</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#330000;"></span></strong><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Beef filets, cut into cubes<br />Fresh sliced mushrooms (optional)<br />Butter or margarine<br />½ small onion, finely chopped<br />Garlic<br />Flour<br />1 cup of beef broth, or 1 beef bullion cube<br />Worcestershire<br />1 16 oz container Sour Cream<br />Rice or egg noodles for serving </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Salt & pepper to taste<br /><br />Heat 2 tbsps. Butter or margarine in medium saucepan until melted but not brown. Add onion and sauté until tender and transparent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, mushrooms, and cubed steak, and cook until mushrooms are tender and beef is browned throughout (about 5-7 minutes). Remove onion, garlic, and beef from the pan, reserving the liquid.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Add a tbsp of flour at a time to the liquid, until mixture becomes thick. Slowly add hot beef broth, a bit at a time, until fully absorbed. Once it has become slightly thick and creamy, add a dash or two of Worcestershire to the pan.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Return the cooked beef and onions to the pan, stirring into the sauce, until fully mixed. Add the sour cream and serve over cooked rice or egg noodles. Top with green onions if desired.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-48815092707216753622009-01-08T21:28:00.002-06:002009-02-09T15:34:20.739-06:00Resolutions & Revelations<span style="color:#330000;"><em></em></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><em>There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.</em> </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Mark Twain</span><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248617163656007874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyBdef9p_iTRNpsl1dlt5HlYB8NsHdlG1CeoHSyKRvKQS3xUaT4DmUvqPF6dQ0XjGzT1HNi9xvis7HRoyWZXYvI40jjjhBHDHs3f5BqU7-KSNwrCyk8c3otkal8184tlmp06sXVzozPw74/s320/019.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">This is the time of year when diets are all the rage…when everywhere I go, everywhere I turn, I listen to friends, family, old coworkers, and strangers discussing their resolution to eat better. If I took the time to write it all down, only to go back to those same people 2 months from now, the number of people who fell off the diet wagon would surely be astonishing. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br />I’m not a believer in diets…nor am I a believer in resolutions. Maybe it’s because I know I can’t stick to them, and I refuse to believe in something that for me simply doesn’t exist. Maybe it’s because I’m too stubborn to deny myself the foods I want when I want them. Maybe it’s because so far, I’ve been fairly blessed in my ability to simply cut back, as opposed to cutting off. Chances are it’s a combination of the three. Regardless, I don’t do it. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br />It dawns on me every so often that I’ve taken things above and beyond…that I’ve eaten lunch out every day in a week, that I haven’t been to the grocery store in two weeks to buy fresh produce, that my dinner last night consisted of cashews and wine. When that happens, I turn it back a notch. I get a grip, put things in perspective, and slow down. It seems like an unhealthy cycle, but I appease myself by saying that it’s no crash diet, no harsh criticism, and no worries.<br /></span><span style="color:#330000;">As I get older, I realize it won’t always be this easy. My metabolism is slowing, and the pounds will get more stubborn with age. I balance that with the knowledge that as I get older, I’ll get smarter. I’ll take notice of the increasing frequency of heartburn and sour bellies that I induce on myself by eating poorly….I’ll speak to myself with a voice louder and more insistent than the one I use now.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">The fact that I'm rapidly gaining weight due to this ever-growing baby makes the food fight within me all the more frustrating. Every bit of food that passes my lips is met with guilt - less so when I'm following a nutrient-rich regimen for the benefit of the baby, more so when I'm indulging the new sweet tooth I've acquired since I became pregnant. It's easy to worry about how I'll take the weight off, and easy to get upset with myself for putting on too much weight as a result of poor willpower.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br />But for the time being, I’ll enjoy it. And if that means sitting down to this cheesecake inspired by one of my favorite desserts, Nutty Buddy ice cream cones, so be it.<br /><br /><strong>Nutty Buddy Cheesecake Pie<br /></strong><br />12 sugar cones, crushed<br />1 stick butter, softened<br />1 8 oz. package cream cheese, softened<br />1 package Cool Whip<br />¼ cup sugar<br />½ cup chopped peanus<br />½ cup melted chocolate<br /><br />- Preheat oven to 350 degrees.<br />- Combine crushed sugar cones and butter until just moistened and fully mixed. Spread mixture in bottom of greased springform pan and bake 5-7 minutes, or until crust is browned.<br />- Meanwhile, beat cream cheese, Cool Whip, and sugar in medium bowl until light and fluffy.<br />- Once crust has completely cooled, spread cream cheese mixture on top of crust. Drizzle with melted chocolate and chopped peanuts and freeze until firm (25 minutes).<br /></span><br /></p></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-7100387904662638242008-12-09T15:22:00.002-06:002008-12-10T09:51:29.692-06:00Peeling the Appealing<em><span style="color:#330000;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="color:#330000;">And every day when I've been good, I get an orange after food.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Robert Louis Stevenson</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277909325002547666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Qb3FD50ol2EpX15s0PbDZio5nxZ-eydqKA5lxxfAWoZSDTo6vgx1q7lgiEUenOq5XsHGm_V7exhGnfocnn3y33V4atJ1KDEUeZ4w6ztQQPg73s54ApFTofoXRkbSGrLfn66BQPFrybLk/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I’m never nearly as determined and specific as I am when eating citrus fruit. In every instance, I find myself meticulous in preparation and care. Tangerines become challenges in which the perfect peel is the ultimate goal, with tiny uniform sections delicate yet strong with juice that bursts forward. Softball sized grapefruits require focus on thick-skinned segments that must be handled and overcome. Even lemons and limes receive special attention, ensuring that slices are even and practically transparent.<br /><br />Maintaining a balanced, loving relationship requires many of the same components. There are days when the stubborn nature of a loved one seems insurmountable at first glance, but with the proper handling, can unravel and break down into a manner worth every minute’s work. People are delicate at first glance, while proving themselves much stronger than even they could have guessed. By taking the time to delve beneath the skin that can be bitter, tough, virtually inedible, and finding there the sweetest, most vibrant sensation – we unearth the ultimate reward.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-72666560487195443482008-12-08T10:45:00.003-06:002009-02-09T15:34:58.582-06:00Can I Get You a Beer?<em><span style="color:#330000;">Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Benjamin Franklin</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277462154821367730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hNdfGQGl3AZbOR__zwrOEdl64NDFEoV81izDG81E4A_CFXtyIsgzx8OpkYTzpIi_TpDHbq4X5C8z82Z6anFzWI4DcaE8wb4oRHj9JZX2StHxIEzC8soAQUNLT0wEXhPEzITODoozUiCX/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /></span><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I'm not much of a beer drinker. (And before you get all indignant that I shouldn't be a beer drinker while pregnant, I'll clarify that I wasn't much of a beer drinker <em>before</em> I got pregnant.) I enjoy a glass or twelve of wine (again, not currently) but the love for beer solely belongs to my husband. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">However, when we were driving home from eating breakfast at a new place in our neighborhood yesterday (more on that later), I noted the cold dry day and decided that it would be the perfect day for soup. A quick stop at the grocery store gave me all I needed to toss together a warm gooey beer cheese soup, and we spent a lazy afternoon watching football and playing Scrabble while it simmered away in the Crock Pot. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">This recipe (and I use that term loosely) produces a good amount of soup, enough for leftovers the next day. </span></p><p><strong><u><span style="color:#330000;">Beer Cheese Soup</span></u></strong></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Celery, onions, carrots, diced (about 2 cups total)<br />4 cups low sodium chicken stock<br />1 block 2% milk Velveeta, cubed<br />1 1/2 cups beer<br />Paprika, garlic powder, worcestershire, spicy mustard to taste</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Combine all ingredients except beer in Crock Pot - I set mine to the "high, 6 hours" setting and then turned it down to low about 4 hours in. Once vegetables are tender and cheese has thoroughly melted, puree with immersion blender until smooth. Add beer and continue cooking on low until ready to serve.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I also had some whole wheat hamburger buns that were nearing the end of their shelf life, so I cubed them, tossed them with olive oil, garlic powder, salt & pepper and toasted them in a 200 degree oven for about 20 minutes. They were a great addition to the soup.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I may not be a beer drinker, but this I can get behind.</span> </p><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-33252800566629009962008-11-26T10:51:00.004-06:002008-11-26T11:44:06.752-06:00A Recipe for Success<em><span style="color:#330000;">People who like to cook like to talk about food....without one cook giving another cook a tip or two, human life might have died out a long time ago.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Laurie Colwin<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273011183224514114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 175px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 245px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1ZZsXaznQuQdVdCrkvo-jkw7xHJWSxd1N3tLh8S1ksFUPGpNT9qvVPsOVtgUcXBQBZQ60ZCdQlTBu_HYhPkvImmN4zH1H7RkkBWl__vcoV4a0avD6-M3yMndZHnl6vQZ-_IiTGPBmt9_0/s400/everyday+food.bmp" border="0" /></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I still haven't been doing much in the way of cooking - and by "much", I mean virtually nothing. This is not to say we haven't had great meals - or that the notions of food and cooking have disappeared from my radar. I'm still obsessed with new recipes, meal planning, and consuming delicious dishes. It's simply that my obsessions have recreated themselves in a new manner of sorts.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I recently switched magazine subscriptions, so instead of my monthly Food & Wine, I now await the arrival of Real Simple and Everyday Food (not to mention the pass-along copies of Southern Living, Better Homes & Gardens, and Ladies Home Journal that my mom gives me once she has finished them). I have a system for reading magazines. The publications that are combinations of recipes, home tips, and stories are saved in the rack for a rainy day - but the ones dedicated to food and recipes receive a special sort of attention. I won't begin reading one until I know I have the time to enjoy it cover to cover. I dog-ear pages that I want to return to, add to my list of must-cook recipes, and make mental notes about which dishes I want to try first.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">In addition to reading about food, I've taken to conducting a sort of cooking school in my kitchen. My husband loves to cook, and until recently has rarely been given the reins when it comes to preparing our meals. He is now in charge of dinner most nights, and breakfast and lunch on the weekends. This means I sit nearby, tossing out directions for the recipes he isn't as familiar with, and throwing suggestions his way that he probably doesn't need or want. The results have been incredible - biscuits & gravy from scratch, beef stroganoff, pan-seared salmon, pot roast hash with crispy roasted potatoes....the list goes on and on.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">My odd cravings have also led us to many different restaurants around town - a late afternoon craving for sushi led us to one of our favorite spots, where I forlornly passed over the "real" sushi and settled for a cucumber roll. The need for smoked chicken ravioli took us to Amerigo's, the desire for a BLT and a spicy, salty pickle to a nearby deli.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Obviously, Thanksgiving weekend will provide plenty of additional food fodder - I'm responsible for macaroni & cheese and rolls at lunch with one set of family members, and pies for dinner with another. I've read many recipes, and assuming I can get my husband to help, I should be set.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-43002439287522148182008-11-10T13:28:00.004-06:002009-02-09T15:40:11.101-06:00A Change Will Do You Good<span style="color:#330000;"><em>Life is always at some turning point.</em></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Irwin Edman</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5267121533810724802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBgthNeqP4vAKfq3HbFXkrbhFsx2oPj75bFt7cdyh4Hq-LcfJCqOoqTMr6kAfDlq22mWh5Zur5r_MlSZz7YtjUW15os2NKHOLp-kBAxQx-GuO-46OEvMbTc2nRt5EqkO1f-Dcmn3V2O8X2/s320/008.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">The past few months have consisted of many changes in our life and our routines. It obviously began when I quit my job, which affected us in many more ways than we could have anticipated - both good and bad. We went from riding to work together, working together, riding home from work together, and discussing work together, to seeing each other in the mornings and evenings and being able to discuss items outside of the other's realm.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">The housework and errand system we'd set up was altered as well - since I was at home, I took care of it. Gone were the Saturday mornings trying to catch up on laundry, Saturday afternoons polishing the floors and sweeping the porch, the Sunday afternoons at the grocery store and Sunday evenings bathing the dogs. We now enjoy lazy weekends doing anything and everything we want, without guilt over what responsibilites may be falling by the wayside.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Without a doubt, the largest change we are experiencing is yet to come - but we are in the midst of preparing both mentally and emotionally for the increase in the size of our family. This not only means there are no more evenings spent enjoying a glass of wine with dinner (for me, anyway), but it now encompasses so much more.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">The one thing that has been affected most by each of these changes is the way we eat. First and foremost, my being at home during the day has allowed for more home cooked meals, new recipes, and increased creativity in the kitchen. Breakfasts and lunches became more than a matter of convenience. I was able to delve into the piles of recipes in my "to cook" list.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Now, the way we eat has taken yet another turn. My queasy stomach, combined with the immense fatigue I've been experiencing, has removed me from the kitchen and put my husband in charge of meals- which has more often than not been little more than a can of soup and fruit (or whatever it may be that I can stomach at the time).</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">But finally - finally - I felt the desire to get into the kitchen on Friday. Our Friday evenings used to be spent decompressing from the week, relaxing and basking in the glow of knowing we could sleep in the next morning. This past Friday actually felt like that again - my husband brought home new records for us to play, we chatted about our week while we snacked on cheese, crackers, and smoked trout - all while a pot of roasted red pepper soup simmered on the stove. I got back in the kitchen, and it felt great...for a change.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><u>Roasted Red Pepper Soup</u></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 stick butter</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1/2 onion, chopped</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 tsp. minced garlic</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2-12 oz. jars roasted red peppers </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 tomatoes, diced</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">14 oz. can tomato sauce</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">2 cups chicken stock</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">1 cup heavy cream</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Basil, oregano, salt & pepper (to taste)</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Melt butter in skillet; add onion and garlic and saute until onions are tender</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Combine onions, red peppers, tomatoes, tomato sauce, and chicken stock in large pot; add seasonings to taste and simmer for about 25-30 minutes. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Using an immersion blender, puree mixture until creamy</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Add heavy cream and let simmer another 5-10 minutes</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-28331725215486603302008-11-07T10:44:00.002-06:002008-11-07T10:51:45.678-06:00The Newest Addition<em></em><br /><em><span style="color:#330000;">The primary requisite for writing well about food is a good appetite.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- A. J. Liebling</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I feel it coming back - the desire to get back into the kitchen. I have a grocery list written that does not contain ginger ale, crackers, or chicken broth - and this afternoon will be spent trying some new recipes that I'll be sure to share.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">In the meantime, I have a new blog under my ever expanding belt - I'll be updating baby news there, while keeping Any Little Reason purely about food. </span><a href="http://www.thelittlestreason.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#330000;"><span style="color:#000066;">The Littlest Reason</span> </span></a> <span style="color:#330000;">is up and running, for anyone interested in hearing me ramble about something other than my culinary preferences.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-12954827731642915842008-11-03T10:30:00.004-06:002008-11-03T11:16:55.590-06:00To Eat, or Not To Eat<span style="color:#330000;"><br /></span><div><span style="color:#330000;"><em>So where did these cravings come from? I concluded it's the baby ordering in. Prenatal takeout. Even without ever being in a </em><em>restaurant</em><em>, fetuses develop remarkably discerning palates, and they are not shy about demanding what they want. If they get a hankering, they just pick up the umbilical cord and call. 'You know what would taste good right now? A cheeseburger, large fries, and a vanilla shake. And if you could, hurry it up, because I'm supposed to grow a lung in a half hour.</em></span></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Paul Reiser, 'Babyhood' </span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5264470502378922978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbJlovHdDEnJBMTDW7cHYBLLOj8Go0Md36SZY4b5eAgFIgN4yhf9_xWxujokyBnzcxbzoJe09obqmKMBd2e-SJ0UooOnllEnpqhUWJAkYsyBjOKlQ3Dp32UIWLOxMIEJ_Ys-yfUIx2iw7K/s320/tums-sugarfree.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">At this point, I don't know what is stronger - the cravings or the aversions. The constant nausea (whoever coined the phrase "morning sickness" apparently never experienced midday sickness, late afternoon sickness, evening sickness, and in-the-dead-of-night sickness) is only eased by allowing food to pass my lips every two hours. It's the most bizarre sensation to use food to comfort a stomach on the verge - and yet, it's the only thing that works (resulting heartburn aside).</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I'm snacking between meals on applesauce, crackers with peanut butter, fruit, cheese, and carrot sticks - the only things that sound appealing. As far as meals go, there is a short list of options - cereal, soup, waffles, grilled cheese - with the occasional wild card thrown in, such as tacos, beef stroganoff, german potato salad.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Enter the aversions - there are the foods that I've always loved, that have been my go-to meals in a pinch - that send me reeling at the mere mention or thought of them. Eggs, chicken, pizza, pasta...</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">The scariest and saddest thing for me at this point is my pure avoidance of the kitchen. I have no desire to cook, I extract no joy from planning meals and flipping through my favorite cookbooks, and I'm lacking both the energy and the capacity to stand in front of the stove while enduring the smells and sights before me.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Everything I've read and heard leads me to believe this will soon pass - and I'm encouraged that will be true.</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-13816373847834736632008-10-30T11:27:00.002-05:002008-10-30T12:50:24.394-05:00The Days of our Lives<div><em><span style="color:#330000;">Ponder well on this point: the pleasant hours of our life are all connected by a more or less tangible link, with some memory of the table.</span></em></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Charles Pierre Monselet</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262984750805523154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 192px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcVa38dw_XcP_RAXdl2A5t58Fz-kmNlSHtBGpe0bdwdyOptu6UYGp6TK3mjmB5KXmxdo97kRkkz0JG_Xvh_OS1ej4hfshQAd9cWcQ84orBFzlrSXNafFbvccFmVOF4YCHf6yVVGuNVtI8u/s320/hour_glass.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">We all have them - the days that we count as significant and meaningful, that we celebrate year after year. The most obvious of these are birthdays and anniversaries, but there are others that can be included in the history of who we are. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">August 25th, 2005 is the day I'll always remember as the first time I saw the man that would become my husband, while October 27th of the same year holds a place as the first time we had a conversation and I realized he was the one.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">By January of 2006, we were all but living together - and we signed the papers on the purchase of our first home six months later, on June 30th.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Almost a year later, on June 6, he asked me to be his wife - and on September 29th, 2007, we stood before friends and family to say our vows and begin our lives as a married couple.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Now, we have a new date to add to the list.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">June 19, 2009 - the due date of our first child.</span></p><p> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-40147957590020326272008-10-28T10:16:00.003-05:002008-10-28T10:43:00.898-05:00Turned Off<div><em><span style="color:#330000;">Once you get into the groove of things and in the mood you are usually fine; it is before the event that you get nervous and irritable.</span></em></div><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;">- John Gallagher</span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262225387849911474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVkFHM8g1UxIH3JVjnOy3w0P1Ar2tKk8P8qM0_35HgABo_whgJD8DvMnYxxnhZRANRLEGRXNgsuIwkYxOrC2ktiDKO0KdKJZo2SD66zaeF0tMll3pElGmbVFJzarCA41DRl-yoDnyANFYc/s320/stove-knob.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I am uninspired. I am uncertain as to what's causing it, therefore unable to undo it. Lately, I can only summon the energy to eat out, order in, or throw together the simplest of meals. Breakfast is a bowl of cereal with fruit, or toast with apple butter. Gone are the biscuits and gravy made from scratch, the quiches, pancakes. Lunches have consisted of BLT's, grilled cheese sandwiches, cans of organic soup heated up and eaten standing over the sink. Midafternoon snacks have returned in the form of popcorn, peanut butter & crackers, fruit, and ice cream. Dinner is Chinese takeout, a taco bar thrown together just in time for Monday Night Football, or pot pies.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I open the fridge or freezer on a daily basis, and I see brisket, tilapia, filets, sweet potatoes and fresh produce light up with the prospect of being plucked from their perch. I then plunge them back into darkness as I reach only for a bottle of water.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">I hope this passes soon - I long for the day that the urge to tie on an apron and spend hours in the kitchen overcomes me. I anticipate the late afternoon question of "What's for dinner" - and instead of the blank stares I emit currently, I am eager to be filled with inspiration and desire to create something new, or at the very least, an old favorite.</span></p><p> </p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-20130109847322453192008-10-20T08:24:00.000-05:002008-10-20T11:34:23.987-05:00Weekend Report<div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#663300;"><em>Weekends don't count unless you spend them doing something completely pointless.</em> </span></div><div align="left"><span style="color:#663300;">- Bill Watterson</span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259266874097208306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4P_U7mvjhxLqJyPD353fDDQuErG3P_ZOA76JDcvsrxkJHFESODFFDpkStDygzGnNjxrqtEKZpJfAvSI87vfkTvCebeIhgWALTGC4cD3YK1RSY__6LMxtHlUydn_r2DcNpn-cE1FXqDsBT/s320/005.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="color:#330000;">* Our youngest dog, Chet, following a walk<br /></span></em></p><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">We typically spend our weekends balancing between work and play. Despite our best efforts, we do not have the ability to simply relax and be lazy for long periods of time. We inevitably come up with a project, or we schedule plans to the point that we're going nonstop.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">This weekend, however, we allowed ourselves to be completely lazy. We slept late, took long walks with our dogs, watched football, and ate. And ate.</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Friday night we went to Margot, one of our favorite restaurants. We enjoyed hand-cut potato chips with creamy aioli while we waited for our entrees - pan roasted chicken with a potato cake atop creamy leeks for me, fettucine with turkey meatballs for him. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Saturday we went out to my mom's to watch football - and in typical fashion, we ate until we were stuffed. We snacked on salty roasted peanuts, spicy crab spread, tangy cheese dip, and buttery popcorn while we waited for the chili to reach its perfect harmony of flavor. Following that, I wouldn't have thought I'd be hungry for the rest of the day, but later that night we had a quick and comforting dinner of BLT's (with the last of our sweet red tomatoes) and macaroni & cheese. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Sunday morning came in the form of biscuits slathered with butter and apple butter, along with sliced strawberries. After a walk in the crisp fall air, feeling our faces warmed by the afternoon sun, we settled in for a few hours of football watching before we fired up the grill for dinner. Within ten minutes, we had a tender flat iron steak resting on the cutting board waiting to be carved, served alongside corn sauteed in lime, cilantro, and paprika, as well as edamame tossed in sea salt. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">The sense of accomplishment we normally feel after a weekend of projects pales in comparison to the sense of contentment we feel today, knowing that we simply enjoyed ourselves, each other, and our meals.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-60323643506030594972008-10-13T16:18:00.003-05:002008-10-13T16:49:29.824-05:00The Glass is Always Half Full<div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><div><em><span style="color:#330000;">There comes a time in every woman's life when the only thing that helps is a glass of champagne.</span></em></div><div><span style="color:#330000;">- Bette Davis in <em>Old Acquaintance</em></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"></span></div><br /><div><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256751388732262466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SIgCePEbJpw_2LCmjI0tnUBnD502gYHweGgPCEgQ9eJCKGwiQ7dggqR6AbTOQ3TewOKX8XeU9c98c8Sec9b3p8PQGfiyRRkqZo0-gFAJxXhqvn__SPUPmpo-SJbBTif6V3GzgZF_if_6/s320/Sunday%2520Champangne%2520Brunch.jpg" border="0" /></span></div><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I am blessed. I am fortunate enough to have a rock-solid group of girlfriends. I can recall the exact moment I met each of them, the first time we cried together, the addresses of the crappy apartments we shared, and all of the relationships that brought us all to this point.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">We are all quite different - yet all so similar that we can finish each other's sentences, can laugh hysterically at the same dumb jokes, and can annoy our spouses & significant others for the same reasons. No matter how much time has passed since we've all been in the same room together, it takes mere seconds to pick up where we left off - which usually means holding a glass of champagne.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Our tradition of "Champagne Saturdays" started years ago. One Saturday morning we were all nursing a hangover from a girl's night out the evening prior, so we decided that we needed breakfast. We stumbled upon a place that had great food and cheap Mimosas - and we sat there for hours in our pajamas, calling attention to our table with bouts of laughter and accusations about who did what the night before. After we paid our checks, we decided the best way to ease into the afternoon was - you guessed it - more champagne. I don't think a single one of us could have foreseen the impact this would make on our lives for years to come.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Champagne Saturday has become a sacred encounter, enhanced over the years by the addition of new friends, new homes, and new recipes - and most certainly, new life phases. We've seen marriages, children, new jobs, and new pajamas - but the formula never changes, aside from the fact that we've now allowed it to fall on any given day. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Yesterday was no exception. Our friend Hillary is getting married in less than two weeks, so in typical fashion, we honored this next step in her life with a champagne brunch. I have no photos to document the spread we had, but as is usually the case, we had all the standbys - good food, amazing friends, and champagne glasses that are never empty.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">(Photo courtesy of platinumplanet.co.uk)</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-82353396804490276002008-10-10T19:36:00.006-05:002009-02-09T15:41:37.571-06:00If Loving You is Wrong, I Don't Wanna be Right<span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><em>Well, if you put it that way, I think you’ve got a point. Have another biscuit, sorry.<br /></em></span><span style="color:#330000;">- Eddie Izzard </span><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255688857345754002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmFf18g9zVBghuEeYa8f81whHORl0ITgRFdVjcmGAr1OpP5QNb9gWAPqDNFOxW1ZOLrckmqhktlCrGzTXhrWNlkLv8M_hXZ9OF3mj65bNT32FtOL4Uxp29-PrUtml0jRpFQBh0URz7Hpj/s320/011+(3).JPG" border="0" /></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;">I hate to admit it when I'm wrong. The defiance I experience when I realize I've misspoken, or argued a point to death - only to realize I won't win the debate - presents itself in a very stubborn, pouty-mouthed apology and the admission that <em>maybe</em> I am mistaken.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">When I was younger, my parents dealt with my ability to stand firm when I believed in something, even it were blatantly obvious to be false. They coined me "the little lawyer" and swore I'd have a career in the courtroom. One of my long-standing nicknames is "sassafras", due to my tendency to toss attitude in the general direction of anyone on the other side of the fence. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">When I'm faced with the realization that I am incorrect, I have to dig deep to find the ability to step down and confess defeat. I employ distraction tactics at rapidfire speed, hoping to deter my opponent and cause forgetfulness of the issue at hand. The most surefire tactic I've found is food. </span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">Knowing each of my husband's favorite foods, I'm prone to stockpiling the ingredients necessary on the chance that I'll be faced with the possibility of a discussion on the downward spiral. I can argue while I cook, so it's a matter of continuing to save face while I prepare one of his guilty pleasures or comfort foods. This method also allows the ability to stall, because he knows better than to interrupt me if I'm mumbling to myself about whether a dish needs salt or contemplating if it needs another three minutes in the oven.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">He's like a kid who just met the Tooth Fairy when he sees me pulling out the makings for biscuits and gravy, and I can usually count on turning away from the stove to see him sitting on a barstool at our island, gazing at me adoringly and awaiting what's to come. In an instant, he's given up on trying to prove his case, and he's content that in mere minutes, he'll have a mouthful of delicate biscuits topped with a creamy peppery gravy generously studded with aromatic sausage.</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;"><em>So</em> right.<br /></span></p><br /><br /><p><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><u>Biscuits & Gravy</u></strong></span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">1 lb. sausage, 3 tbsp. butter and flour, 3 cups milk</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Brown sausage in large skillet, remove and drain, reserving drippings</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Add butter and flour to skillet and combine to form a roux, then add milk and stir constantly, scraping up the brown bits from the pan</span></p><p><span style="color:#330000;">- Once mixture has thickened, add sausage, salt & pepper to taste, and stir to combine. Serve over warm biscuits (I take the lazy way out and make White Lily frozen biscuits - they are incredibly good.)</span></p><p><span style="font-size:0;"></span><span style="color:#330000;"></p></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-55158552383161097312008-10-09T08:48:00.002-05:002009-02-09T15:42:07.178-06:00Take Five<span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><em>The ambition of every good cook must be to make something very good with the fewest possible ingredients.<br /></em>- Urbain Dubois</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">I read today that “You’re a combination of the five people you spend the most time with.” For me, that evokes a combination of fear and relief. These emotions present themselves in the same sense that they do with my parents – being afraid that I’ve inherited only the bad qualities from both, while being glad that there are good qualities in each to which I’ve been exposed. Unfortunately, these things aren’t like items on a buffet line – “Yes, I’ll have some of the humor…but I think I’ll pass on the temper today”, but I do think it’s possible to learn from what you see in the people around you and then make the choice on whether or not to let them integrate your personality.<br /><br />For instance, I know that if I had the opportunity to adopt my husband’s positive nature and ability to enter a room and change the atmosphere within seconds, thereby drawing people in and making them happier, I’d take it. On the flip side, if I am faced with taking on the characteristic of my mother and how easily she gets ruffled (that is, if I don’t already possess that quality), I’d politely decline. All in all, I know that the five people I spend the most time with – my husband, my friend Jessi, my mother and her husband, and our animals (do they count?) – I’d undoubtedly be pleased at the concoction which would result from very different and unique perspectives, tastes, and personalities.<br /><br />On a similar note, think of the five ingredients you use most, or the five meals you eat most. Couldn’t these be taken into consideration the same way people are? They are based on your choosing (and I’m led to believe most of us have the ability to choose who we spend time with, as opposed to being forced into companionship); they are more likely than not all the same, or at the very least they’ll have some notable differences; they are undoubtedly called up for different reasons, based on different moods; and they are always reliable and available.<br /><br />On any given day, you can look in my kitchen and find the following five items: chicken broth, edamame, pasta, cheese, and sweet potatoes. This does not include the snack staples such as tortilla chips, popcorn, and fruit. I’m talking about ingredients that I always have on hand. Now, obviously these are not ingredients that could necessarily be thrown together to create a meal. Close, but not quite…and a meal comprised of those five things is certainly not balanced.<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#330000;">In terms of the five meals we eat most in our house, based on convenience, ease, and most importantly, preference, I’d quickly rattle off chicken pot pie, baked pasta, steaks, salmon, and beef stroganoff. This certainly doesn’t mean we eat nothing but those five things – but on average, that’s what pops up the most. Reason? We can pull each of them together in less than 30 minutes, with little effort and minimal cleanup afterwards.<br /><br />There's also the matter of the 5-ingredient meal - this has almost become a game in our home, a challenge of sorts - especially when it's time for a trip to the grocery store or farmer's market and I'm trying to cull together a meal with the odds and ends we have around the house. This recipe came about on such a night.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><strong><u>Steakhouse Stuffed Potato</u></strong><br /><br />Medium baking potatoes scrubbed and pierced several times with a fork<br />Steaks (any cut you prefer I used filets)<br />Crumbled blue cheese<br />Prepared horseradish<br />Butter</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Salt & pepper to taste</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"><br />- Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Bake potatoes until tender, approximately 35 minutes. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Meanwhile, grill or pan sear steaks to preferred level of doneness (I did medium-rare) and slice into thin strips. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Remove baked potatoes from oven and allow to cool briefly, then slice the top of the potato lengthwise and scoop out the pulp into a medium mixing bowl. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Mash potatoes with butter, blue cheese, and horseradish, and then fold steak slices into mixture. </span><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Scoop mixture into potato shells and return to the oven for 10 minutes or until potatoes are slightly browned on top (may use broiler function for this).</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6635083295420334693.post-62197144778524617012008-10-08T08:27:00.004-05:002008-10-08T11:03:48.913-05:00Soup's On<em><span style="color:#330000;">Between soup and love, the first is better.</span></em><br /><span style="color:#330000;">- Old Spanish saying</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5254795813190315266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUs_GrXtq1vOCBADC3nHm06ad4FI3XvHcbh3Mio0uJUiiySkKMYPEVUg9Rlluj1eU6Kzyn0cvuHVHyzqtqbm7IdCRECfvu41X60uMPbv2bQj754SO2zWQRGkVc2FmC4FN4r_YhryptzX03/s320/hobo-soup.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">While many consider soup to be a seasonal item, best enjoyed in colder months while bundled in thick sweaters and socks, I enjoy it year-round. I have gotten comfortable with the odd glances of disbelief at eating a large bowl of soup during eighty-five degree days. To me, comfort is measured by the enjoyment found in simple pleasures, not by stereotypes of how or when something should be indulged. I visit the restaurants that I know will offer me the depth and balance that soup provides, even in the hottest months. I get as excited as a puppy playing with a new toy when I walk into a favorite spot to find that the soup of the day is one of my favorites.<br /><br />I have zero preference when it comes to consistency. I greedily consume bisques, chowders, purees, broths, and stews alike. French onion soup overpowers the strongest of hangovers. A creamy potato concoction cures a slew of ailments…the common cold, waves of nausea, a broken heart. A spicy tomato bisque is only made more exceptional by the addition of crawfish or shrimp. </span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">And now...the disappointing part. My husband doesn't like soup. Oh, he'll eat it - but it's definitely at the bottom of the long list of things he'll consume. I've always secretly wondered if it's because he feels he's too tough to sip a delicate broth-based soup, or that even a thick stew isn't enough nourishment for such a masculine dude such as himself. (Of course, now my secret is out. Sorry, honey.) I mean, has he not SEEN the Campbell's commercials with Donovan McNabb? If his momma can bring him soup from a can - in front of all his tough guy football buddies - then surely my dear husband should be able to enjoy it.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">Perhaps I'm being a bit too harsh. Even though it's not his favorite, he always eats his fair share whenever I make it. Especially on a day like today, when it's been raining nonstop for almost 24 hours and the dog's water bowls outside are overflowing with the much-needed precipitation - I have a feeling he'll welcome the vegetable beef soup I have simmering on the stove for lunch. Yesterday, I made pot roast (another rainy day favorite) and we had some left over, so I tossed in some beef broth, peas, onions, carrots, green beans, celery, alphabet pasta, and some seasonings and let it go. In all honesty, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't want it - means there's more for me.</span><br /><br /><span style="color:#330000;">(<em>Photo courtesy of mrbalihai.com</em>)</span><br /><span style="color:#330000;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1