You are totally jealous of my sandwich, admit it.
Ryan, my haircut-needing nephew, is picking up lots of culinary-speak during his tenure at The Left Bank. No longer do we "fry that shit up in a pan" or "nuke the hell out of" anything; we use proper classical Fronsh terminology. For example, when microwaving the Velveeta with the Ro-Tel, I would instruct him to "nukez l'enfer hors de ce produit que reseembler รก fromage mais non est fromage."* The word of the week is "confit" and it's relation, "confiture," which has replaced the more familiar but less ...
I know you're all watching American Idol right now. Why does Jason Castro force us to love him, with his dreadlocks and blue eyes and charming goofiness?
Part Four in the series goes back to basics: pico de gallo and refried beans. Every time I have people over and bring out this pico there's a minor riot, which never ceases to amaze me - and sadden me, have we become so inured to Tostitos salsa? Will future generations know nothing except Pace Picante Sauce?
Fresh pico only takes 5 ingredients and a little chopping. Do it for the ...