me: i like to cook. i like to cuss. i do both with great gusto every thursday night, as i take on a new recipe from my ever-expanding cookbook collection and attempt to bend it to my iron will. in between, look out for original recipes, restaurant reviews, food related musings and more. fucking A!
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I don’t want to harp, really, but I do feel that I must state here again that I do NOT own a mandolin.
I finally got a copy of Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s Asian Flavors of Jean-Georges, and immediately wanted pretty much everything in it. I was going to do the peking duck, because yum, but the directions instructed me to hang the glazed raw duck from a hook overnight in the fridge, where you’ve also placed a small battery-powered fan to keep air moving around the duck. Thanks for adapting that recipe for the home cooks with normal-sized refrigerators* at whom your book is aimed, Jean-Georges! Really helpful.
Still, I can’t be too angry at him because despite his chef stardom he still eats hot dogs. So I decided to go with his Charred Lamb Salad, a riff on traditional Thai beef and lettuce wraps that sounds MUCH more boring that it actually is.
*Maybe I didn’t read the introduction carefully, maybe it’s only for home cooks with home meat lockers.

I didn’t eat any of the vegetables, and I don’t feel guilty at all.
We’ve all had those days: you’re stuck at work later than you’d like, you’re tired, you’re not sure what you feel like eating, you don’t have the energy to conjure up that good ol’ pantry juju, and your kitchen still smells like pureed fish.
We all have go-to takeout for those days - pizza, pad Thai, General Tso’s chicken, bean and cheese burrito, whatever. Mine comes from Jersey City’s locally-famed Ibby’s Falafel: lamb shwarma, baba ganouj and a sweet, creamy namoura pastry to top it off.

My ass is due east of Suck On It, Tunisia.
If I’m not cooking directly from a recipe or making one of my standby dishes, I’m trying to riff off someone else’s ideas. I can poach a mean egg and I have a decent sense of what goes with what (e.g., bacon goes with everything), but I don’t flatter myself that I’m particularly innovative or have some kind of culinary talentg. I have more of an all-around genius than a specific savant-like gift.
Every once in a while, though, I make up a dish that seems pretty unique (at least to me), an unexpected combo of flavors. I think this dish is one of those, at least until I buy a new cookbook and find out that it’s some kind of classic that I should have already known. Fuckin’ A.
Did you sleep through Act I? Philistine.

Do a little dance. Make a little love. Make polenta tonight.
Braised meats just get better with time. Not excessive amounts of time - I wouldn’t eat a brisket more than 3 or 4 years old - since that would probably cause, you know, rotting. But an extra day or few really brings all the flavors together. So if I’m going to spend a whole afternoon or evening braising*, I try to make sure there’s extra in the pot to make a re-appearance later in the week.

Braise, and the whole world braises with you.
Note: I know that the formatting in this post is f’ed up, but either my computer or Wordpress is stubbornly refusing to allow me to fix it. And I’d really like to go to bed. So if you’re reading it before tomorrow morning, sorry about that.
Have I mentioned that I love to braise? Because I do.

Voulez-vouz couche avec moi ce soir?
Tonight, from Claudia Roden’s The New Book of Middle Eastern Food: Lamb meatballs with eggplant sauce served over bulgar pilaf with pine nuts.
I’m going to admit it right up front: this was not my week to pick the Smackdown battle, and I was not overly psyched about these dishes; I have a backache and am a little cranky, and I really could have gone for some mac and cheese. But once one accepts the Smackdown (and buys all the ingredients… and has a spouse who’s really, really excited), one does not back away from the smackdown. Plus, spicy lamb meatballs. Yum.