Weekends around here have been devoted to a tour of all Jersey City diners for the Jersey City Independent, and the overload of tuna melts and lemon meringue pie does not inspire me to engage in further cooking. I’ll probably rouse myself to make something to bring to the Father’s Day BBQ for Brian’s dad tomorrow, but for right now, I thought I’d share some of the things people have been saying about TNS lately. I’m on my way!
He has a way with words. It’s one of the many reasons we’ve made it to four days after our seventh anniversary. He also has a way with making ground meat into puppets while he’s working with it, which is only slightly less endearing than his impressive lexicon.
Master chefs Wylie Dufresne (wd-50), Suzanne Tracht (Jar), Graham Elliot Bowles (Graham Elliot Restaurant*) and Elizabeth Falkner (Orson & Citizen Cake) take on the Season 1 vending machine Quickfire challenge, followed by an elimination which, as described by Bravo, sounds super cheesy, so I won’t tell you what it is so as not to spoil your child-like excitement before the show even airs.
I’m hoping to see Elizabeth Falkner snap Dufresne’s neck like a cheap pair of chopsticks.
*WARNING: Highly irritating flash intro and music upon loading. Dear Graham Elliot: No. Sincerely, Concerned Internet User.
Don’t touch my peanut.
It’s Monday and that means yes, here I am with dinner based around an ovum protein source.*
*Another synonym for “egg,” from thesaurus.com: cackleberry. I am so not shitting you.
When the challah french toast v. bread pudding decision was put up to a vote on Twitter, french toast won with 100% of the vote. So I made bread pudding, because I like to be contrary and alienate my readers. Plus – and I’m only telling you this because I trust you not to spread it around and ruin my reputation – I like to have a dessert made on the Saturday nights when my Dungeons and Dragons group gets together. Yes, I put that in white to make it harder to read; if you want my embarrassing secrets, you have to work for them. I’m still coming to terms with it myself.
We are readers of action. Sloth does not become us.
I just ate a taco and half a quesadilla, despite the fact that I decided to bake bread tonight rather than cook because my stomach is still feeling a little too delicate for a real dinner.
I’m not what you would call “clever.” My stomach is also not feeling what you would call “good.” It’s a good thing the Kaopectate and I have developed such a close relationship over the past week.
The long national nightmare of not having any high-quality reality cooking television comes to an end tonight!
Tonight, Hubert Keller (Fleur de Lys), Christopher Lee (Aureole), Michael Schlow (Radius Restaurant), and Tim Love (The Lonesome Dove Western Bistro) go head to head. Also: If Jesus loves me he will make sure that Wylie Dufresne, whenever he appears, gets SPANKED.
Details, cast and judges list and bios here. See you in two hours, fourteen minutes.
Bonus rumor: Three words – Neil Patrick Harris.
Apparently, I’ve been nominated for another award, by BlogLuxe, who I’ve never heard of. My category: Most Provocative Blog. Which cracks my shit up, because I believe a full 85% of my posts are about pancakes.
Anyway, there’s a button on the sidebar if you wanna vote. Or don’t, in keeping with the majority of Americans (If you’re there, give some love to my sister The Green Shutter up in the wholesome Swiffer-branded Cleanest Blog category.)