I don’t know that I’ve ever made pizza crust from scratch before, mostly because I suffer from a relatively serious case of selective laziness. Make my own caramel and nougat for homemade snickers bars? Sure! Make pizza dough? Ha. Why? Whole Foods sells theirs in neat little packages.
I don’t claim to make sense. Continue reading
Wait, make that “Tortellini-Are-Little-Puffs-of-Heaven and Italian Sausage Stew.” Kind of a long name, though. I’ll work on it.
It’s been a very soup-y fall for me, for a couple of reasons. 1)Fall just seems to need soup. I don’t know what it is but for some reason, fall is a soup season. 2)Soup recipes make a lot and it’s great for pouring leftovers into a jar and taking it work a couple days for lunch. 3)I rarely made soup before last year because I was convinced I was a failure at it. I’m not nearly as nervous now. Clearly if I can do, any idiot can. But I repeat myself.
You know what I like about these bars? Everything. They were easy to make, very fast, tasty, they made the house smell delicious and they are a perfect fall treat for noshing on with a good sized mug of hot cocoa and whipped cream.
They came about because I was sitting home alone, bored, getting over a cold and therefore in sore need of some comfort food. I didn’t want the usual sort of snack–cookies, brownies, etc. Or more honestly, I didn’t have enough chocolate on hand for the usual snack. Instead, I sifted through the 300 or so recipes in my Evernote cookbook tagged with “dessert” and found a recipe for pecan pie bars.
I didn’t have pecans…but I did have a Costco-sized bag of almonds. Plus I knew that with a bit of extra cinnamon thrown in, the bars would basically be like eating candied almonds atop a shortbread crust. And yep, that’s pretty much what they are. Delightfully, they’re not too sweet at all–so they won’t push you into sugar shock if you eat one or two with a good helping of my homemade cocoa. Continue reading
“Make me a sandwich.”
“Poof! You’re a sandwich.”
You want jokes? I got ‘em. You want funny jokes? Try back next week.
Josh and I have been trying this radical new thing: “making our own lunches and taking them to work.” Innovative right?
You see, I work on a college campus that happens to be nicely situated amongst the city’s downtown area. I am surrounded by restaurants of all kinds–Indian buffets, sandwich places, Mediterranean joints, sushi places, pizza delivery, milkshake delivery and the best soup-shack this side of Heaven. It is, needless to say, very difficult for me to ignore all of that and eat a lunch I packed. If I packed. Hey, sometimes I’m too lazy busy to remember little details like that. But the down side of this genuine first-world problem of having lots of restaurants nearby is that it’s expensive to eat out all the time for lunch and frankly, eventually it gets boring. Continue reading
The brain is clearly the most superior of all the organs, and I’m not just saying that because it told me to. Well I kind of am. Ok, I totally am, but with other good–nay, delicious–justifications. After all, my brain is what told me to buy a couple gallons of cider at the Dexter Mill a couple weeks ago and my brain is what told me to use that cider to make apple syrup, which was delicious, and my brain decided that if apple syrup is good then apple caramel sauce must be just as delicious and obviously, if the brain thinks it’s true, then it must be. Continue reading
Sunday was a busy day. I got out of bed–and that was an effort, let me tell you–and made breakfast, prepared bread dough, did the week’s grocery shopping, found out my Twitter account was hacked (again, apologies to all involved), roasted chicken, made stock, made soup and still managed to watch Squid Invasion on Netflix streaming and thoroughly freak myself out.
But the important thing here is the soup. It’s my cheesy, chunky comfort stew. I originally made it for Paul and Josh last week for dinner. Paul and I had a very good trade going: if I made dinner, he would bring cinnamon pie for dessert. (I freaking love cinnamon pie and Paul makes it brilliantly.) And since I knew I was going to want to have a really large piece of pie for dessert, I figured I would make something for dinner that was simple (cause I was tired), quick (cause I was short on time), vegetarian (because Paul is not of the meat-eating persuasion) and filling without being super heavy (cause pie). Oh and delicious, of course, because that’s how I roll. Continue reading
As I mentioned in the apple dumpling post, we (Josh, Paul and I) recently took a mini-foodie-field trip to Dexter Cider Mill to stock up for Falltopia. (I’ve decided to re-name autumn from the pessimistic “Pre-Winter” to the more halcyon-sounding “Falltopia” in hopes of learning to appreciate it more. Will it work? Probably, right up until it gets cold again.) We got donuts, apples, and plenty of cider for drinking, making hard cider (Josh’s thing) and lots of other goodies. This apple syrup here is the first of those “other goodies.”
One of the perks of living in Michigan is fall. I know, I know: I said in the plum tart post that I hate fall because it’s basically “pre-winter.” It is. It is pre-winter. However, like any good femme fatale, there are certain things about it that you can’t help but be seduced by even knowing that it will end with gunshots and tears icy roads and snow-shoveling. Like super crisp blue skies, shimmery gold and red leaves, corn mazes and most of all, Michigan apples. Because where there are Michigan apples, there’s cider and donuts. And wherever there is cider and donuts, you’ll find me, nomming out. Continue reading
Well it’s happened again. The slow but inevitable progression of time has once again thrown us into the cruel and ignoble gladiator ring known as Fall, or as I like to call it, “The Pre-Winter.” I know, I know. Some of you like fall. The cooler, sweatshirt-y weather, the apple cider and donuts, the corn mazes and the tricks-and-or-treats. It’s glorious, Josh says. Ha. I know the truth. It’s the beginning of the end…
…of my summer vacation from blogging. Did you miss me? We’ll just pretend you did. I missed you too. In fact, I’ve brought you this gift. This beautiful, delicious gift:
Do you like it? Continue reading
It’s almost officially summer. Which in Michigan means that any given time, it is either thunderstorming or it’s 85 degrees. For me, late spring is an important time. The students leave and campus is nice and quiet. The markets open. The farm shares begin. The hot dog stands come out. The garden gets planted. My electricity bill goes way down…for a while. But it also means one very, very important thing: baby vegetables.
I love baby vegetables. They’re tender and sweet and delicate and tiny…and we all know that making food smaller automatically makes it both cuter and delicious-er. My absolute favorite is the elusive baby turnip, which is starting to reach nearly mythical status in my household because I can never find them. I’ve seen them at the market exactly twice in about six years and never in a regular grocery store. They are so delicious, sautéed with butter and chicken stock and then sprinkled with salt and pepper, almost like very delicate Brussels sprouts. If you find any, buy them immediately! Also, send them my way. Continue reading
It’s been a crazy week since the launch of the first Melties. There’s was a lot going on. Most importantly, the raised garden beds that Josh has worked so painstakingly on the last few weeks were finally finished! Stained, put into place, filled with dirt and on Saturday, most of the garden was planted. We have two beds: one tomato/pepper bed (we’re also planting some lettuce into it) and one herb bed for my kitchen. Of course, within hours after planting, our mastiff Maggie had managed to jump on and run through both beds, decimating a couple pepper plants and a tomato. So today, fencing went up as well. Ah well. Continue reading
Something awesome transpired here Saturday night. Josh and I hosted the inaugural Melties, a semi-formal grilled cheese dinner party.
Let me say that part again. A semi formal grilled cheese dinner party.
You know, as many times as I say it, it never sounds less awesome. All around, it’s probably one of my better ideas. I highly suggest that each and every one of you conduct your own Melties as soon as you can.
Let’s start with the invitation.
A few of our grilled cheese lovin’ friends received the following invitations in the mail (real invitations on real paper sent through snail mail. Retro, I know):
If you just now realized that tomorrow is Mothers Day and have yet to do anything for your respective maternal figure, don’t worry. I’ve got just the solution to your procrastinatory, slack-alicious problem: these mini homemade mounds bars. Or as I prefer to call them, “Mounds Bites,” since they’re just little nuggets of candy. Because moms like chocolate and moms like coconut and moms like things that are homemade. And because these are quick and easy and have garnered rave reviews for me the past couple of days and since they’re bite-sized, it makes for easier portion control. Also, did I say they were delicious? Cause they are.
So make a quick trip to the store, throw a batch together, nestle them into a pretty container and let your mom know how much you care…about her having delicious eats. Do it for the noms. I mean, moms. Do it for the moms. Continue reading
homemade limoncello
I know what’s going on. Your path to life has taken a sour turn. Your mojo is running out of juice. Food has lost its a-peel. And my pith-y jokes…well, they lack a certain zest today. But it’s okay. I’ve got the cure for what ails ya. Because, my dear friend, when life has given you lemons, sometimes you wonder…”What the hell am I going to do with this? Make lemonade? Uh hello, that is so 1956. Laaaame.” Well today, we are going to save your relationship with the lemon.
Because after all, the lemon is a little culinary powerhouse. There is nothing it can’t make better. Not only is it full of vitamin C, and not only is it an awesome little addition to homemade cleaning solutions, and not only does it bring out the delicious flavors of foods it’s paired with, but its own flavor is bright and tart and yummy. To steal a line from Genie, the lemon is “phenomenal cosmic power, itty bitty living space.” Continue reading
When I was young, I had one of the infamous Teen Talk Barbies. She and I would have long, imaginary conversations about the sociopolitical unrest in the Middle East, the impending real estate bubble, the stylistic value of cinéma verité…you know, all the usual interests of a ten year old girl. At least, I would talk about those things. Barbie, dear sweet, plastic-headed Barbie, would spout delightfully silly exclamations, like “Wanna have a pizza party?” and “Math class is tough. Let’s go shopping!”
Actually, that’s not true. I never had one of those Barbies and I only know about the infamous Teen Talk version off the doll because it was later parodied in a Simpsons episode where Lisa’s Malibu Stacy doll proclaims, “Math is hard. Let’s go shopping!”
But let’s pretend for the sake of this post that I did have one of those dolls and in that case, alternative-reality me would be reminded of it years later when various friends and readers would flop down in their chairs, sigh, or type frowny-faced emoticons into messages and declare, “Cooking is hard. Let’s eat out.”
Now, I may never teach you to like math–I’m not even going to try; after all, this is “Have Fork, Will Eat” not “Have FOIL, Will Calculate.” I will, however, try to prove to you that not only is cooking not hard but it can also make basic math terribly tasty like these delicious make-ahead recipes that can be added to future meals for a nice boost of flavor and are easy to multiply and divide so you can make as much or as little as you want. Continue reading
I can hear the battle raging on inside of Cookie Monster’s head already: “It look like a cookie. But it not a cookie. But it have chocolate chip like cookie. But it scone. But it round like cookie. How it not cookie? Cookie Monster like cookies. Cookie Monster not Scone Monster. To eat or not to eat scone cookie? That is the question.”
The story behind these scones is pretty simple. Last night I wanted to bake something with chocolate in it. I didn’t want to make another batch of chocolate chip cookies. So instead I made something that looked like a chocolate chip cookie instead. I don’t know what to think about this. Granted, it’s a very good scone. Airy, fluffy, sweet, delicious, easy to make. Vanilla-y with little morsels of semisweet chocolate. Everybody loves them. But I’m starting to wonder how bad my obsession with chocolate chip cookies has gotten if I start making little cookie clones out of other types of food. First the chocolate chip cookie pie and now scones? Maybe I’ve given scones low self esteem, made them the Jan to the chocolate chip cookie Marsha. I mean, maybe it’s always, “Cookie, cookie, cookie!” What’s next? Will my other baked goods start making up fake boyfriends, maybe a George Glass of Milk, to try and convince me of how wanted they are? What should I do about this? How should I put this poor pastry out of it’s misery?
I’ll have to eat it. It’s the only way. Continue reading
This was a sad week. Our household was struck down by the plague. Well, a cold. But a vicious cold. You know, like one of those snarling, drippy cartoon germs you see in commercials. It ruined all my weekend plans of…doing nothing. I mean, sure I still did nothing but I didn’t enjoy it as much. I missed the beautiful 80-degree day that was Sunday. I missed two days of work after that. So did Josh–which is how you know this was a bad cold, because Josh rarely gets sick and even more rarely takes days off because he’s sick. And sadly, I missed all my good opportunities in the kitchen–there were no baguettes baked, no pretzels dipped in chocolate, nothing. Oh the humanity!
But yesterday, we were will enough to go back to work. And the little fish who controls the weather felt accommodating enough to make it sunny and warm, which was most appreciated. At some point during the day–and I blame Chase for this–the idea of grilling burgers started fluttering around in my head. Normally, I prefer ideas not flutter around in my brain. It tickles, for one thing, and the noise is a bit disturbing. But this idea was so appealing, I let it slide. After all, I’ve been itching (figuratively, I swear) to get my grill on for weeks now. Not to mention that grilling is a relatively easy, low-maintenance way to cook dinner and a good way for me to ease back into cooking while I recovered. Clearly summer was trying to break free from Cold Miser’s grasp. That made it my duty to embrace it with a good grilled burger, which, let’s be honest, is the epitome of summer itself. Continue reading
There’s a great joke in an even greater movie, a classic work by an utterly influential artiste. Anyway, in the joke, this guy is talking to a girl he likes at a party and he lists off all these fantastic foreign foods that are sitting on the buffet, including dates. And he offers her a plate and says, “Would you like a date?” “Sure,” she replies, reaching for it. He pulls the plate away. “How about next Thursday” Hahahahahah. That, my dear friends, is the genius work of Mel Brooks in his cinematic masterpiece Robin Hood:Men in Tights.
That joke is what I’m always reminded of when I think about dates, the fruit. If you’ve never had a date, they are these delicious little elongated fruits that come from a tree called a date palm, indigenous to the Middle East. You can usually find them dried, sometimes pitted and bagged in the grocery store. They are delicious in savory and sweet dishes and are often the base for various healthy snackbars, like Lärabars or Youbars. In fact, those very bars are the inspiration for these little snackables. Continue reading
It is a really icky day here. Cold, wet, rainy, some hail. Not exactly a vision of spring bursting forth with sunshine and warm rays and flowers and bunnies with miniature gold pocket watches in little tiny pockets.
But that’s ok, because summer marches on an endless parade in my head. Well, summer and a small battalion of green plastic army men, à la Toy Story but with less realism. I decided that since I was on my own, I should make a dinner that was as seasonally uplifting as my imagination. In the winter, I stay about two energy levels above hibernation and only because as of this writing, there is no way for humans to safely and economically hibernate through the less desirable parts of the calendar so far as I know. (If you know of something…email me.) I stay indoors, surrounded by warm blankets and fuzzy socks and eat hot, heavy, delicious comfort foods like chili, short ribs, mac and cheese, meatballs and lasagna. But in the summer, I tend to slide more towards light, fruit and veggie heavy meals. This dinner totally fits the bill. Continue reading
I’m on year two of a five year plan that was put into operation about 15 years ago. I’m a little behind, I’ll admit. But the plan, the plan is still good. The plan is to take over the world. At first I thought I’d do it with my charm and effervescent wit. But that hasn’t panned out yet. So now I’m thinking I’ll take a slightly different tack. I’m going to take over the world through a slow, steady and judicious application of macaroni and cheese.
First, I get the world’s attention with irresistible bacon comfort filled baked mac& cheese. Then I up the ante with a sophisticated, spring-friendly chicken, spinach and leek concoction. And now I’m sealing the deal with this sassy chorizo, garlic and broccoli mac and cheese. It’s just a little taste of what my reign will be like: a macaroni in every pot.
Well, a penne anyway. Or a rigatoni. Maybe shells. Or spirals. Continue reading
