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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All cow fat, all the time.
Let everyone’s collective panties be unbunched: tofu doesn’t live here any more.
I’m not giving up on integrating more vegetarian or vegan meals into my repertoire, but I am giving up on frankenfoods like tofu. It’s still not in the same category as truly unearthly “foods” like quorn, but my kitchen doesn’t need it. Healthy vegetarian foods are easily assembled using whole, fresh ingredients.
That’s not what this is about, though. Well, at least the “healthy” part: this is real deal mac and cheese, the kind made with a classic butter-and-flour roux, milk that has been expelled from a real live cow and not extruded from a bean of some kind, and a shit-ton of cheese. And it feels GOOD, SO GOOD, right up to and including the moment that the final particle of arterial plaque settles in your carotid artery, stopping all bloodflow to the brain.

Is everyone tired of pork yet? Not a rhetorical question.
We come now to the final installment of Smoke-a-Thon 2008, semi-classic North Carolina-style pulled pork with my in-demand potato salad as your special bonus with purchase. I’m not sure what I’m more tired of doing: eating pork, editing pictures of pork, looking at leftover pork or writing about pork, so I’m a little relieved that we’ve come to the last chapter.
Note, however, the bacon exception: I am not currently, and do not foresee ever being tired of eating, photographing or writing about bacon. I’m fairly certain that the bacon exception is a categorical imperative for all humankind except for freakish vegans who put tofu in their macaroni and cheese. Not than I am judging.

Get ready for a whole lotta beige.
I’m having a very love hate relationship with pork right now. On one hand, pork is unbelieveably delicious, and bacon is one of my major food groups. On the other, exposure to 18+ hours of smoking pig has left every one of my pores, hairs, lungs, bath towels, dogs and pieces of upholstered furniture embedded with immense amounts of microscopic pork particulate. Which is not as much fun as it sounds, trust me.
The week has been pretty meat-free since Memorial Day to give my kidneys some time to recover from protein overload, so it was as good a week as any to bust out The New Moosewood Classics for some tofu mac and cheese and a simple green salad and vinaigrette. Because if I’m going to eschew pork, there should at least be cheese. Lots and lots of cheese.

Nothing on this plate is not coated in butter. Nothing!
Every time I endure a Smackdown that stretches the boundaries either of food or my patience, I have to do a 180 the next week to recover. That’s why this week we turned to a chef who, although she has an entire chapter on meat-based aspics, would never ask me to eat pureed, extruded, poached, fried fish: Julia Child. Or, as I like to call her, La Grande Dame du Beurre. Join me on this buttery journey as we begin to Master the Art of French Cooking* with sauteed Mediterranean-herbed chicken with wine-butter-egg yolk sauce, baked cucumbers, and sauteed new potatoes, won’t you?
I could make this all sound much fancier by giving you the long, Frenchified names, but to do that I’d have to get off the couch and go upstairs to get the book. Although there is some Amaretto ice cream upstairs… nope, I’m not moving. Deal.
*$4 well-spent at a used book sale.

Yum-O!…I’m already sorry I said that. LIGHTEN UP, PEOPLE.
This delicious meal of penne alla vodka and spinach salad with caesar-ish dressing, pecorino cheese and proscuitto can be made in 12 minutes.
Can a post describing it be written in 12 minutes? It’s 10:06. Let’s go!

Happy Ribtoberfest, everyone!
I know it’s not October, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be Ribtober. If it were up to me, we’d also have Ribtember and Ribril*, so it’s probably a good thing for all of us that it’s not up to me.
Tonight’s ribs come to use thanks to The Food of Thailand: A Journey for Food Lovers a book about authentic Thai street food and home cooking written by three Brits. They (the ribs, not the Brits) are accompanied by sweet corn cakes, cucumber salad and a decidedly non-Thai but outstanding bottle of Saison (a crisp summer Belgian ale).
*Doesn’t that sound like a pharmaceutical? “Ribril is not for everyone. If you are pregnant or may become pregnant, talk to your doctor before starting Ribril. Side effects may include nausea, dry mouth, uncontrollable palm sweat, male pattern baldness and Scurvy.”

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.

And they are available to you for a co-pay of only $3475 per pancake. Toppings are extra.
I know the title of this post may come off as just a tad flip. As someone who lost both parents to cancer (breast and colon) by age 26, who had cancer herself (Hodgkin’s Lymphona) in her teens, and who expects a second helping to hit any day now, I feel entitled to whip out my “Get-Out-of-Being Flippant About Cancer Jail Free” card for this occasion.
Despite the impact that breast cancer has had on my life, I despise the whole “buy this pink crap to cure cancer” bullshit. Buying pink crap doesn’t cure cancer, it puts more money into the pockets of people who manufacture and market pink crap - most of which probably dumps cancer-causing toxins into the environment, thus perpetuating the cycle of teddy bears wearing pink sweaters.* Granted, I don’t think that participating in the LiveSTRONG with a Taste of Yellow Event will cure cancer either, but at least it’s an excuse to eat pancakes.
*If you want a pink blender because you really like pink, buy a pink blender. But if you want to help women with breast cancer, donate directly to a place like Breast Cancer Action. Or help an actual woman with breast cancer to get through a chemo session or go grocery shopping or clean her house.
If you want more on the Pinkwashing of America, I recommend you to Twisty.
Also: If you want to start an argument about this in the comments? Don’t.

Coming up at 11: When Asparagus Attacks
Some days, work is relatively stress-free and I get home by 5, excited and ready to cook up a storm. The other 364 days a year, I don’t. Unless each of my 6 readers starts loading this page 750,000 times a day each, I’ll be keeping my day job and looking for more quick but interesting weeknight meals.*
Some time ago, I declared the official foodie trend of Spring 2008 to be the poached egg. Today was a lovely spring day - sunny, brisk, daffodils in bloom, Target setting up shop on the street giving away flowers with each purchase of toxic chemical fertilizer - and I had some asparagus in the fridge that was about to buy the farm, so: roasted asparagus with poached eggs and green curry hollandaise. Hollandaise and asparagus are a classic pairing, as are poached eggs and hollandaise (eggs benedict, eggs florentine) and poached eggs and asparagus; marvel at the synergy!
*If you could start doing that, that would be great. Tell your friends and family!

Thyme for dinner, everyone! (Ba-da dum!)
Sometimes, life gives you extra Bolognese sauce. When that happens, I’m firmly of the mind that you should make lasagna Bolognese.
You’ll probably be tempted to invite some friends over for dinner when you do this, because one typically does not make a lasagna for two. I’m here to advise you that you might want to reconsider this; consider having your friends over on another night, a night when you’re having something not quite so good and you won’t mind having NO LEFTOVERS AT ALL because your friends LICKED the inside of the baking dish clean.
Just saying.