Happy Father's Day!



“There are only two men on the planet that you can trust: me, and your dad. And I’m not so sure about your dad.”
~ Offer Korin, fancy attorney and de facto big brother

These sage words of cautionary advice were offered to me many moons ago, and are not intended to besmirch the sterling character of my beloved father. Rather, they indicate a fraternal instinct to protect me from the general male population, combined with a gentle reminder that Pop can be full of shit.

 Both of my parents, an uncle, and virtually all of our friends are lawyers. A profanity-laden debate is to our clan what a boozy flag football game is to the Kennedys. But every once in a while one of us (and by “one of us”, I mean “Pop”) will generate an argument that is a colossal pile of horseshit - and then proceed to defend it to the death. For example:

Pop’s hearing has been less than stellar for some time now, and he will absolutely not admit it. I once broached the subject and was treated to a long winded and intricately crafted defense that he closed with an assertion that the symptoms we’d attributed to his loss of hearing were really indicators that he has superior auditory powers. That’s right. With a straight face he said “It’s not that I’m losing my hearing, it’s that I actually hear too well.”.  Total conviction to this premise.

On another occasion, my parents’ adorable Black Labs were lingering a little too close to the table at a dinner party. When their noses were practically touching plates, someone spoke up and made a joke about them being good beggars. Pop took great exception to this and immediately spoke up for his dogs. He informed everyone that they were not, in fact, begging, because begging would inherently constitute an expectation of a positive result on their part; since his little princesses clearly KNEW that they’d never actually get anything, they were not begging. Begging, by definition, was completely different. This was just dogs looking at diners with huge, moist eyes while softly whining and licking their chops. Which is somehow not begging.

So, obviously, though my father is a fine and upstanding man, Offer’s right. Pop cannot always be trusted.

One area where his credibility remains unscathed is breakfast. My family loves a big breakfast, and Pop is the master of this domain. His biscuits and sausage gravy is the absolute ideal - I make it precisely how he does, and it’s the only version that tastes “right” to me. My father is the kindest, kookiest, smartest, most generous and warm-hearted fella in the universe. In celebration of my dad’s massive awesomeness, I give you the perfect breakfast to make for Father’s Day:

John Vargo’s Sausage Gravy

• Sausage
• Milk
• Flour
• Salt and LOTS of fresh cracked black pepper

This one is more of a method than a recipe - the ingredients can be scaled up and down as needed, and it can be modified to suit your tastes.

Cook some sausage in a large frying pan - I like something a little spicy myself, but you can sub in anything you like (maple or sage flavored sausage, for example; or if you are in the unfortunate circumstance of having a vegetarian dad, some sort of fake tofu-based thing). This is a time for good old fashioned sausage - leave the super fancy ones for some other purpose. Leave it in large hunks - don't mash it all up into pork-y confetti.

Once the sausage has been cooked, you should have a nice amount of fat in your pan. Sprinkle a light dusting of flour over the whole shebang, and work it gently into the meat, cooking it through. You're making a roux here, so the amount depends on how much sausage/fat you have, and how much liquid you're going to add - the Great God Ruhlman tells us that the proper ratio is 3 parts flour to 2 parts fat.

When the flour has cooked through and started to foam a bit, add your milk. If your dad is lactose intolerant, make him something else. Slowly add the milk a little at a time, combining gently with a whisk or fork as you go. Once the whole works comes back up to temperature and starts to boil, it will thicken and you can adjust it as you like.

At this point, add salt as needed, and throw in LOTS of fresh cracked black pepper. Lots. Taste and adjust for seasoning, then spoon over homemade biscuits. We like to use drop biscuits, because the craggy, irregular tops get crunchy and brown, and they offer a nice texture. If you like to roll them out, go ahead. But for the love of all that is holy, don't use those horrifying refrigerated dough things - your father might disown you if you do.

I love you, Mum!

Please allow me to regale you with the tale of The Time My Mom Vomited Into Her Purse.

My beloved Mum (whom I’ve written about here and here) is a pint-sized powerhouse who can hold her liquor. Until she can’t.

 Both Mum and Pop are attorneys (very Adam’s Rib) , and once upon a time in the 80’s, they worked crazy hours and had a wacky office full of interesting characters. It would have made a great sitcom.

One of the recurring characters was my Pop’s best friend, JPhillip, a man of rather grand charisma like my father. One night, after a long week of doing Important Work, the power trio of Mum, Pop, and Jphillip needed to blow off some steam. This was achieved chiefly a pursuit of large amounts of swearing, rich food, and top shelf booze.

It should be noted at this point that the two gentlemen in question were men of rather large girth as well as charisma. Mum is a wee pixie, just under 100lbs soaking wet. But she’s also tough as nails. I am dead serious when I say that my mom can beat up your mom. This is why no one thought a thing of it when she kept pace with every bite and every drink.

JPhillip was assigned the transportation duties, and Pop apparently called shotgun - which left Mum sitting alone in the back seat, slowly becoming acutely aware of the depth of her intoxication. And while she may be a badass, she’s also a lady, so when she was finally overcome, she quietly opened her handbag and puked inside.

Meanwhile, I was a surly 16 yearold busy listening to the Cure, dying my red hair black, and shuffling around in witchy boots with bats on the buckles. So, you know, there was a natural sense of conflict. Which is why I was surprised at her response that morning when I asked if I could have $20 for gas.

I should have sensed the disturbance in the Force right away because she immediately said yes and told me I could get it out of her wallet. This was unprecedented. But I was young and dumb and really wanted the $20.

I learned a number of things from my Mum on that day.

1. You can be a badass and a lady at the same time.
2. If you are clever, there is no situation - no matter how potentially humiliating - that you cannot turn to work in your favor.
3. Don’t fuck with Mum. She will always win.

I am grateful for these lessons, and many more (long hemlines just make you look shorter, spelling counts, question authority, etc.) that she has passed to me. I am also grateful for her Bloody Mary recipe. Mum likes them spicy, boozy, and homemade. And as usual, she is right.

Mum’s Kick Ass Bloody Mary
    •    8-10 limes, juiced
    •    11/2 tablespoons celery seed
    •    4 tablespoons horseradish (Grate the real thing if you can, or use a good quality prepared version if you must)
    •    2 quarts V-8 (this is important! Don’t use a nasty fucking mix, people. And don’t use plain tomato juice. Trust us here.)
    •    3 tablespoons Tobasco
    •    2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
    •    1 3/4 cups good vodka, chilled in the freezer
    •    Salt, pepper, smoked paprika, and additional celery seed (to garnish the rim of the glasses)

Get a big pitcher, and juice the limes directly into it (over a strainer - seeds are not welcome here!). Throw in the horseradish, celery seed, a generous pinch of Kosher salt, and about 10 grinds of black pepper - muddle them all together with a big wooden spoon.

Add the vodka, V-8, Worcestershire, Tobasco, and stir to combine. Refrigerate it for a while, so everything can get acquainted.

Combine salt/pepper/smoked paprika/celery salt in a shallow saucer; Rub one of the spent limes around the rim of a large tumbler, then invert into saucer of salt rub to rim the glass with tasty goodness. Fill tumbler with ice, pour chilled Bloody Mary mix over the top, garnish with celery stalk.
Proceed to get drunk with your mom and remind her how much you love her.

Make It So

It is a well known fact that I am bi-Trekxual (meaning I enjoy the warm embrace of both the original Star Trek as well as Star Trek: The Next Generation). If you put a phaser to my head and made me choose, I’d have to pick TNG and Captain Jean-Luc Picard as my favorite.

Data was a perfect dramatic device for exploring human emotions and relationships. The effects were better. Plus we got to have a legit Klingon (well, half anyway) as a senior crew member. But it was - as it should be - the Captain who really made the show.

The casting of a well-known Shakespearian actor in a Star Trek role was genius - it lent a certain credibility. Less kitschy fake rocks/making out with green chicks, more morality plays and conflicted character development.

Happily, every episode will be available for free on Netflix streaming starting July 1. That’s right, my Geeklets - the perfect reason to while away those bright, sunny months indoors! Let’s face it, a roof is an impenetrable SPF barrier, so it’s basically healthy. Just go with me on this one.

I look forward to revisiting some of my favorite Jean-Luc Picard moments - like The Inner Light,  when he lives an entire lifetime in 25 minutes, and plays the flute (I cry like a baby every time). The Locutus of Borg episodes. And of course, his well documented love for tea. Earl Grey. Hot.



I myself am a fan of tea, especially Earl Grey. It’s a nice, strong, black tea, lightly scented with bergamot (a kind of orange oil). I always take it with some milk, and a little sweet.

I decided to make something that would support and heighten the natural aromatic nature of this traditional tea, while adding the light sweetness I enjoy.

Since the bergamot is orange, that seemed the obvious place to start. I had a little lavender on hand (thanks, AuntieC!), so I used some of that as well, and incorporated everything into a simple syrup. Which, I discovered, is PAINFULLY boring to photograph. Seriously - clear syrup. Not compelling. So here are the basic ingredients, and my favorite teapot.

Simple Syrup for Earl Grey (hot)
    •    1 C sugar
    •    ¾ C water
    •    Zest from an orange (use a paring knife or peeler to remove just the outer skin with the flavorful oils - trim away any bitter white pith)
    •    1 T culinary lavender

    •    Dissolve sugar into water in a heavy-bottomed saucepan and bring to a boil
    •    Add orange zest (big hunks are fine - you’ll strain it out later)
    •    Place lavender into a tea ball or tie in a piece of cheesecloth and add to the syrup (no tea ball or cheesecloth? No problem! Just throw it in there and strain it out later.)
    •    Simmer for 5 minutes
    •    Cool, strain through fine mesh colander or cheesecloth
    •    Keep in refrigerator
    •    Add a few spoons to a piping hot cup of Earl Grey, and feel pleased that you did it without the help of a replicator

Evil Incarnate

Seems to me that regular folks only started getting culinary boners over Spanish cuisine in the past couple of years. You know, suddenly everyone (myself included) starts tossing around the smoked paprika and cooking with tons of chorizo (extra pretentious douchebag points are earned if you pronounce it with a Catalan-ish accent, as in “chori-tho”!).

So you can imagine my surprise when I ran across the “Spanish Pizza for the Gang” card in the Entertaining on a Shoestring section of my vintage Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library, which hails from 1971. Surprise turned to bewilderment, then revulsion, then to a dark curiosity. You know, the kind generally reserved for poking dead stuff with sticks.

Spanish Pizza for the Gang. This is an odd bit of fusion, especially given era. So there’s that. The name would lead one to believe that this recipe will turn out an actual pizza, and that it will have some sort of Spanish ingredients involved. LIES! In fact, the ingredients and method listed in this recipe have absolutely nothing to do with anything Spanish at all. Frankly, they barely have anything to do with food.

Here’s a scan of the back of the card so that you can see it for yourselves. I provide this evidence as NO ONE IN THEIR RIGHT FUCKING MIND would ever believe it otherwise. There is an enormous amount of processed, wet, tomato-ness going on: 2 ½ oz spaghetti sauce mix, 28 oz of canned tomatoes, 8 oz of tomato sauce (seriously, I’m bad at math, but isn’t that like a quart or so of crap?).

A package of brown & serve sausage links are to be included as a topping (as a joke? I hope?). The only “seasoning” - and I use that term extremely loosely - is a mere ½ cup of chopped green peppers, and 1 teaspoon of red pepper sauce. Salt and pepper don’t even make an appearance on the list.

And perhaps most blasphemous (and baffling) of all: one full fucking pound of cream cheese. CREAM CHEESE, PEOPLE! This is not a Spanish ingredient. This has no place on a pizza. A pound of cream cheese? And it’s not even spread over the bottom crust - which doesn’t make sense, but somehow seems more logical than the instruction to “cut cream cheese into lengthwise strips; arrange strips in lattice-fashion”.

Imagine biting into the wet, bland sea of tomato, topped with wee rounds of breakfast sausage and slabs of pale, thick cream cheese.  There are tears in my eyes, and my chin is quivering. The world no longer makes sense. The sky has turned dark - suddenly, Ferran Adria wakes from a nightmare, heart racing, his ashen soul swearing vengeance upon the forces that created this Spanish Pizza for the Gang.

Listen closely, and you can hear the sound of the Evil That Is Sandra Lee quietly laughing.

Okonomiyaki

I believe there is an additional ring of hell, reserved for those even more heinous than the traitors that reside in Dante’s 9th Circle. A deeper place of sin, where even Virgil would think twice before hitting the gas on the tour bus. This final cave of horror houses only one demon: Sandra Lee.

That woman is a culinary terrorist. A fiend. She is responsible for the deeply disturbing Kwanzaa cake (this clip makes me do a full body cringe):



Her worst offense, to my mind, is the senseless and pervasive use of processed and fake “seasonings” and packets of unknown provenance. The envelopes filled with MSG, the bottles and jars of awful artificial nonsense. It’s not cooking. For the love of all that is holy, don’t make food like this!

This is why my next recommendation is highly unusual - I don’t much cotton to the packaged foodstuffs, myself. But I know yummy when I taste it, and okonomiyaki is a yummy you can make at home with the help of a package.

Typically, okonomiyaki is a street food, a bar food - something casual and comforting (and great when you’re drunk!). It’s salty and savory and crispy, and you can garnish it with a variety of goodies. For credible and detailed reference and recipe info, click HERE and HERE. You’ll get the idea.

It’s often called “Japanese pizza”, but that’s just fucking stupid (“round and edible” does not equal “pizza”). It’s more like a crepe, or a pancake batter, holding cabbage and whatever of protein or veg you like (also great for leftovers!). The batter is made from wheat flour and mountain yam, which is sticky and viscous  - but happily it all comes in a convenient powdered mix. We used a brand called Otafuku, mostly because they have the instructions in four languages, including English. 

The batter mix is folded a couple of beaten eggs and liquid (we used some chicken stock we had on hand, but you can totally do it with water) then combined with shredded cabbage and the other assorted bits & pieces.

The whole shebang is then cooked in a skillet over medium heat, until it sets and the bottom is brown and delicious. Then flip & cook the other side the same way.

It’s traditionally dressed with mayo (the Kewpie kind is most common - a Japanese mayo that is always living in the door of our ‘fridge):

...as well as okonomiyaki sauce (kind of a savory/sweet salty sauce…maybe a little like thick Worcestershire? Hard to describe. Umamilicious.), and powdered seaweed (which comes in the package with the batter mix).

Okonomiyaki “kits” are readily available at Asian supermarkets (luckily, Uwajimaya is just up the street from Root HQ) for about $3, and of course you can order online from a variety of sources (ask the Googles).

Easy, frugal, and a great way to sexy up some leftovers. Packaged foods are powerful tools - use them wisely, lest you succumb to the dark side and end up rooming in Hell’s basement with the Governor of New York’s soon to be wife.

Bloody Sweet

Everybody knows that the blood in the Psycho shower scene is chocolate syrup, right? Right. (Bosco, specifically.)

It was also used in the 1968 classic, Night of the Living Dead (Syrup provenance undetermined.)





This establishes chocolate syrup as not only a tasty treat, but a useful tool in the arsenal of horror movie make up artists. Which means it’s pretty much a perfect product. I decided to make my own, because I really wanted to spike it with some cayenne and cinnamon for spicy mochas.

Making chocolate syrup is really easy. Unless, of course, you are distracted by the dog barking at a spider (yes, she barks at spiders), thinking about work, half answering an email, and unloading the dishwasher. Because then, you are not inclined to measure accurately and pay attention. Which means your first attempt may look like this:

Clearly, this is not chocolate syrup.

BUT, as long as you have about 5 minutes and you pay attention, you can make your own in no time.

This makes a fairly large batch - about 5 cups - so if you don’t think you have use for that much spicy chocolate goodness (in which case, you have my sympathy), you can eliminate the spices and make a plain batch. Then it’s easy enough to divide it up and flavor smaller portions as needed.

Spicy Chocolate Syrup

• 1 ½ C water
• 3 C sugar
• 1 ½ C good cocoa powder (use something good here people, it matters!)
• 1 T vanilla extract
• ½ t cayenne (or more - I like more, but make it to your taste)
• ½ t cinnamon
• ½ t Kosher salt
• As much fresh grated nutmeg as you like
• 2 T light corn syrup

~ Bring the water and sugar to a boil in a small, heavy bottomed pot.
~ Add remaining ingredients, whisk until everything is dissolved and smooth/shiny
~ Reduce until thickened (remember that it will thicken a bit more upon cooling), then cool to room temp and put into squeeze bottles.

It’s delicious in the aforementioned spicy mochas, but it’s also great on vanilla ice cream, or in a grown up egg cream.

And of course, if you’re filming a little black and white horror flick in your spare time (and I expect that at least 25% of my readers are, at any given moment), it will do double duty as fake blood. So you got that going for you. Which is nice.

Mrs. Lovett's Pies

Ever thought about how the pitch meeting for Hogan’s Heroes went? I have. Coz it’s super hard for me to imagine. “It’s a Nazi POW camp - and it’s hilarious!” getting the green-light from anyone.

Same goes for my favorite musical, Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd - “It’s a revenge fantasy based in Victorian London. With murder. And cannibalism. And lots of singing and dancing.”. It simply does not sound like it would work. But it does. (Sweeney Todd, I mean. Never liked Hogan’s Heroes.)

I became obsessed with it at about 12, when the Angela Lansbury version was broadcast on PBS. I taped it and watched it over and over - especially this scene, with the song “A Little Priest”:



Even then, I loved the deeply complicated rhyme schemes and cadence of the songs. And I always delighted in that moment when our dear barber “gets” it. Lansbury’s Mrs. Lovett was somehow adorable in her creepiness…she made cannibalism for profit downright whimsical! In a terribly dark way, of course. (Note to self: start an all girl goth band and call it Dark Whimsy).

There are times when the bits and pieces of neglected leftovers in the refrigerator become as hard to get rid of as a body. I mean, I’ve never actually had to get rid of a body, but seriously - half a sausage or part of a chicken breast and some sad veggies are really tough to pawn off onto loved ones for dinner. Practically the same thing.


I’d like to think that I am also “eminently practical and yet appropriate as always” (as Todd declares Mrs. Lovett once he understands her “charming notion”). So I repurposed some downtrodden leftovers into adorable pies -

The crust is a sturdy one that I make in the food processor. I’ve posted it before, but here it is again - this simple recipe is a total lifesaver.

For the Mrs. Lovett Pies,  I took the chilled/rested dough and lined a prepared (with a little spray) standard sized muffin tin.

The filling was the aforementioned leftovers (plus a couple of pieces of bacon, because bacon is good), warmed through with a little fresh stock that was lightly thickened with a bit of roux, then spooned into the lined tins and topped with more crust.

The whole shebang was lacquered with an egg wash, then baked in the oven at 375 degrees until golden (roughly 45 minutes).

I believe strongly that gleefully warbling songs from Sweeney Todd while forming them helps the end product. Try the priest!

Crust for Mrs. Lovett’s Pies

Good tricks:
• Keep the fat as cold as possible - I cut the butter into small cubes, then throw it in the freezer for a while while prepping other items.
• Don’t overdo it - you’ll just develop gluten in the flour, and you don’t want that.
• Give it a rest - pop that dough back in the icebox for a while, as it makes a huge difference.
• Don’t be scared - if you’re making a sweet shortcrust, add a little powdered sugar; if you’re making savory, throw in some cheese. Toss in a few herbs, cracked pepper - whatever strikes your fancy.


    Basic Shortcrust

    *4oz flour
    *pinch of salt
    *2oz butter, cubed (or lard, if you’re making a savory shortcrust)
    *2-3 tbsp cold water or heavy cream (however much it takes)

    ~ Put the flour, butter and salt in the food processor and pulse until the fat is combined - it should look like breadcrumbs. Kinda sandy - evenly combined. Pulse it, and don’t let it go to far - the heat from the food processor blades can melt the fat if you go crazy.

    ~ With the motor running, gradually add liquid through the funnel until the dough comes together. Only add enough to bind it and then stop. Seriously.

    ~ Wrap the dough in clingfilm as before and chill for 10-15 minutes before using.

Bloody Kids These Days

Once upon a time, my Dreamlets, vampires were sexy.

In the before time, in the long-long ago - before that Mormon broad started writing (poorly) those damn Twilight books. Before the mopey girl with the Elvis eyes and Cedric Diggory stole vampires and sanitized them into chaste, dry humping whiners.

It’s true, little Lumplings. Granny Goth is here to tell you that way back when, vampires were sophisticated and sexy. And vampire appreciators (like myself) we had to cobble together our outfits from thrift stores. Our bat buckle boots had to be special ordered. This was the time before Hot Topic, when Children of the Night had to wait until the week after Halloween to stock up on black nailpolish, lipstick, and fishnets. Back then, our numbers were few.

(For a clear picture of Granny Goth’s feelings on the matter, please click here to watch the Goths VS Vampires episode of South Park.)

 In my day, the ideal Goth was vaguely Eurotrash (or at least pretending to be), intense, mysterious (or at least pretending to be), and charming. While the saccharine sweetness of puppy love and boorish spice of teen angst might be appealing to some, it leaves real Goths unsatisfied.

Twee Nouveau Vamps are Strawberry Quick. Old School Sophisto-Goths are Spiced Red Wine & Honey Syrup.

Spiced Red Wine & Honey Syrup

• 1 bottle dry red wine (nothing too nice or expensive - you’ll be cooking it down - but quaffable)
• 1 C honey
• ½ C sugar
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 4 cloves
• 3 cardamom pods, smushed a little
• Small hunk of ginger, sliced (how big? You decide. How much do you like ginger? Put in that much.)
• Fresh cracked black pepper

~ Bring wine to a boil, add remaining ingredients & stir to combine/dissolve sugar. 

~ Lower to simmer and let cook down until the liquid is reduced and thickened.
~ Remove from heat, let cool, strain, and refrigerate.

Great as a blood red sauce drizzled over virginal vanilla gelato.
On a cold day, put a little in the bottom of a mug and top with hot apple cider.

Or, peel and core firm pears, then poach them in the syrup until tender, and serve with real whipped cream. Sexy. Sophisticated. Just like it should be.

Scandalous Jam

"Codeine...bourbon..."
~ Tallulah Bankhead’s last words

Called "an extremely immoral woman", Tallulah was actually investigated by MI5 for reported "indecent and unnatural practices" with Eton schoolboys.

She liked cocaine. And gin. And men. And women. She smoked 100 cigarettes a day. She swore like a fucking sailor. Her parties lasted for days on end. Her drink was bourbon and water (without the water), and she could down a bottle by herself in 30 minutes.

This delicious Bourbon Bacon Jam is fit for a woman of Ms Bankhead’s caliber. A woman with lust for life. If you choose to consume this, pray do, and do so with abandon. No small nibbles to be polite. No guilt. No apologies.

If you are too uptight - too square to roll with the wild kids, then you might want to look away. You won’t like what you see - this is a sticky, sweet, boozy, piggy perversion.

Bacon/Bourbon Jam, Dahling

• 1 lb applewood smoked bacon, cut in 1 inch hunks
• 1 medium yellow onion, sliced
• 3 cloves garlic, smashed
• 1 large shallot, grated
• ½ an apple, grated
• 4 T apple cider vinegar
• ¼ C strong brewed coffee or espresso
• ½ C bourbon (I used Woodford Reserve, because it’s yummy)
• 3 T light brown sugar
• ¼ t freshly grated nutmeg
• 1 t smoked paprika
• 1 t black pepper
• 2 t chili flakes
• 3 T Hot Sauce
• 2 T honey

• Cook the bacon until done - crisp around the edges, but still meaty and moist on the inside. Remove from pan, drain. 

• Caramelize the onion in the bacon fat and brown sugar - wait until it starts to go golden amber, then add in the shallot, apple, and garlic. Continue to slowly caramelize until dark and sticky. 

• Return bacon to pan, then add honey, hot sauce, and dry spices; stir to combine and coat 

• Add liquids to pan, bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Let it simmer and thicken until it has reached a deep golden brown. Transfer to a food processor and pulse until it has a consistency you like (I made it fairly fine and spreadable; you may wish to leave it chunkier. Do what you like best - Tallulah would!)

Spread this on good toasty bread and serve with cocktails. Slather it onto a bun for the best hamburger condiment ever - it’s got everything! People at your next BBQ will hail you as a deity. Or you can add a spoonful to some scrambled eggs for a lazy but delicious breakfast fit for a silver screen diva with a wicked hangover and a stranger in her bed.

OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!

The sky is the color of an oyster shell, and it’s going to stay that way for months. This is why I bought them - so RED RED RED - to ward off the grey dank for just a moment. But everyone knows that January strawberries are a lie.

They taste of nothing.There is little to do with January strawberries; one must treat them roughly and flavor them harshly if they are to serve any culinary purpose.

From Alice in Wonderland:

“The Queen of Hearts, she made some tarts,
    All on a summer day:
  The Knave of Hearts, he stole those tarts
    And took them quite away!”

The Red Queen called a trial to determine who should be decapitated for the crime of pastry theft. The Cook was cross examined by the King -

The King looked anxiously at the White Rabbit, who said, in a low voice, “Your Majesty must cross-examine this witness.”
“Well, if I must, I must,” the King said with a melancholy air, and, after folding his arms and frowning at the cook till his eyes were nearly out of sight, he said, in a deep voice, “What are tarts made of?”
“Pepper, mostly,” said the cook.

Here is a quick “jam” (not really a proper jam, but a loose fruity spread that can be used the same way), so that others foolish enough to succumb to January strawberries may find some use for these useless red beasts.

Quick Strawberry Pepper “Jam”
    •    1 pint horrid, awful, beautiful, tasteless winter strawberries
    •    Sugar
    •    Lemon juice & rind
    •    Black pepper

~ Behead the vile berries, then roughly chop them
~ Put strawberries in a large bowl, and add sugar to taste. Who knows how much sugar? Only you. Add as much as it takes to make you less angry about purchasing them
~ Take your hands and scrunch the whole works together, creating a shiny, pulpy, lumpy mess
~ Add copious amounts of fresh cracked black pepper. Lots. No, really. More than that. A ton. Remember that black pepper is a common component in strawberry dishes, and be bold. It’ll help.
~ Taste it. Add some fresh lemon juice & rind. Taste it again and adjust to suit your palate. Refrigerate.

If you need something delicious to serve with this jam, consider taking your cues from Tim Burton’s revisionist take on the Red Queen. Her bulbous, oversized head calls to mind the perfect popover.

 This simple (SIMPLE!) popover is like magic - the heat of the oven and the slack batter puff into gorgeous balloons, ready to take on fillings.

Basic Popovers
    •    1 C milk
    •    2 large eggs
    •    1 C flour
    •    Generous pinch of salt
    •    Butter, cut into wee cubes

* You can use a proper popover pan for these, but I got great results in mini muffin tins. This recipe makes the perfect amount to fill 2 mini muffin pans.

~ Place the pan into the oven, then preheat to 450 (Yes, you’re putting an unprepared pan into a cold oven and heating it up. You gotta trust me here.)
~ Cut up the cold butter into cubes - enough to put a teaspoon or two (depending on the size of your pan) into each well; set aside
~ In one bowl, whisk the milk and eggs until they are thoroughly combined
~ Add the flour & salt, whisk until combined. Cover this, and let it chill out in the refrigerator for a minimum of 30 minutes
~ Once the batter has rested, pull the hot pan out of the oven; place a butter cube into each well. Immediately dish batter into the wells (fill to the top for the most dramatic results)
~ Put the pans back into the hot oven - work swiftly, and don’t let the door linger open for long
~ Bake at 450 for about 10 minutes. DO NOT open the door. Seriously.
~ After the first 10 minutes, reduce the heat to 375 and bake until well puffed and deep golden brown. How long? Depends on your pan & your oven. Use your kitchen mojo and keep an eye on them. Turn them once during cooking if you must, but keep the door closed and the heat inside.
~ When you see they are ready, pull them from the oven and pierce them gently w/a sharp knife (this lets the steam out, ensuring a crisp outside and tender, puffed center; skip this and they can deflate and become soggy).
~ Eat them right away. They don’t keep well, so feel free to be greedy. Good with jam made from disappointing strawberries.

 

In a pickle

 At an abandoned medical college in Lithuania, during the cruel winter of 1812, some of Napoleon’s starving soldiers dined on preserved human organs.

The French had lingered in Moscow until November of that year - a critical error. Half a million troops quickly dwindled to less than 40,000 along the frigid 900 kilometer return route. Those who remained were crazed with malnutrition and exhaustion and disease.

By the time they lurched into Vilnius, the alcohol-soaked human offal bobbing in jars must have looked like a banquet. A trick of the protein-deprived mind.

So shut up already about how bad the weather is, because I’m pretty sure you’re not ghoulishly gnawing on people parts while you browse your Netflix queue. (Pretty sure.)

In the cold dark months where soft comfort foods rule the day, it’s good to have something piquant and crunchy to reawaken the winter weary palate. Quick pickles are a fast and easy way to accomplish this.

Spicy Bok Choy Quick Pickles

• 3 or 4 small bok choy (I used a curly variety, but any will do)
• Salt
• Chili flakes or fresh chilis diced fine
• Rice wine vinegar

(I'm unsure of the correct name for this variety of bok choy, so I took some pics of it whole -  if you see it, try it! It's delicious, and the heavier leaves stand up nicely to the salt/vinegar/chilis).

~ Wash bok choy and cut into quarters
~ Place a single layer of bok choy into a specimen jar procured from an historic Eastern European medical college, cover it with a fairly generous amount of salt and chili to taste; repeat until you run out of bok choy
~ Put just a tablespoon or so of rice wine vinegar over the top; seal the lid on the jar and shake a bit to ensure everything is well combined
~ Refrigerate

A much nicer jar to snack from, don't you think?

Hardcore Spirits

I really, really hope this isn't a joke, because it's awesome.

The venerable Ron Jeremy now has a limited edition dark rum bearing his name.

Ron de Jeremy Rum

How much fun would it be to write copy for the ads?

For when you need a stiff drink.

It's not hard to swallow.

Hard liquor.

It's a money shot.

Obviously, the best way to enjoy this adult beverage is...wait for it....wait for it.....

RUM BALLS!

Sweet Ron Jeremy Balls

• 1 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar
• 2 tablespoons cocoa powder
• 1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/2 cup dark rum
• 2 tablespoons light corn syrup
• 2 1/2 cups finely crushed vanilla wafers
• 1 cup finely chopped, toasted walnuts

~Sift together 1 cup of the confectioners' sugar, the cocoa powder and allspice

~ Stir in the Ron de Jeremy rum and the corn syrup

~ Stir in the vanilla wafers and walnuts, and mix well

~ Place in the refrigerator so it can get hard (oh yeah...), about 30 minutes. The mixture may appear crumbly and dry but this is OK

~ Place the remaining 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar in a shallow bowl or dish; using a tablespoon, scoop out portions of the chocolate mixture and press into 1-inch balls (heh). Using your hands, roll the balls (HEH!) in the confectioners' sugar, coating evenly. Be careful not to crush the balls. (I'm dying here!)

~ Place on a baking sheet, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks, placing waxed paper between the layers to prevent sticking.

It's funny because it's true!

The new IFC show, Portlandia, is genius.

This is exactly what it's like to live in the Pacific Northwest. It almost feels like a documentary. This bit, in particular, made me an instant fan:

Charlie Bucket Soup

Is there anything better than a filthy little English street urchin? Like the kind the Child Catcher locked up in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, or the wee pickpockets in Oliver!. The gin-soaked boy in Sweeney Todd. Any kid from a Dickens novel. There’s something wonderful about the peril of fictional children (see also: Edward Gorey).

Roald Dahl’s Charlie Bucket might be the most destitute of all the great urchins of fiction. He’s got the whole package, from the tatty sweaters to the ramshackle house brimming with geriatrics. At one especially low point, Charlie’s Mum waters down the already painfully thin cabbage soup ration.

Cabbage soup just sounds like food a Cockney-accented fictional waif would be forced to eat. The kind of thing that would make one yearn for an upgrade to gruel. The only item in the larder more laughable would be stale bread.

So BEAR WITH ME HERE, PEOPLE! Seriously. You’re not going to like the sound of this, but just try to be open minded when I tell you that I just fixed a dish using stale bread and cabbage. And it was fucking delicious.

WAIT! Don’t go. Would it help if I told you the recipe comes from Jamie Oliver? He’s like, one tweed cap away from urchin status himself. So there’s a whole layer of credibility right there. And I would never lead a soul astray in matters of food.

The recipe calls for savoy cabbage, but I used a standard, cheap-ass white cabbage with great results (if you do this, just make certain you trim the big obnoxious pieces of the core and stem). And the stock really should be your own - it makes a huge difference.

Don’t give me the whole “oh I don’t have time/don’t know how/blah blah blah” bullshit. Keep your veg trimmings and peels in a bag in the crisper; when you make a meal with bony carcass-y bits, throw the contents of the bag and the corpse into a pot and cover it with water. That’s it. The longer you leave it alone, the better it will be. So shut up already and make your own damn stock.

Here's the link to Jamie Oliver’s Bread & Cabbage Soup (we refer to this as “Charlie Bucket Soup”)

Or, simply watch this clip from Jamie at Home - he walks you through the simple steps in his adorable accent.

There's an app for that

I don't have a fancy iPhone. If you do, you should immediately get this app:

Oysterpedia

The folks from the folks at NYC's The Mermaid Inn developed this handy, high tech way to identify, rate, and compare delicious oysters.

This is a large improvement over my system, which is based on the "only order oysters in a month with the letter R" but quickly devolves into "I see them and I have enough money to order them and YOU CAN'T STOP ME BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME!".

If you have a fancy iPhone, you should go check it out. Then take me out for oysters.

Cookies inspired by Antoni Gaudi

It is impossible to use mace and not think of Antoni Gaudi.

Mace is the outer covering of the nutmeg -

 

It’s dried and often powdered, but I love the way they look whole -

Just like Gaudi's Batllo house in Barcelona -

Flavor-wise, it’s just sort of a variant of the nutmeg, so you can throw it in wherever you’d typically use warm spices. Here’s a quick little cookie that is great with tea or coffee on cold winter days.

Spicy Cookies

1 ½ C vegetable shortening
1 C sugar
¼ C molasses
2 C flour
1 t baking powder
¼ t salt
2 t ground cinnamon
1 t ground mace
1 t ground nutmeg
½ t ground dried ginger
1 t freshly ground ginger
½ t freshly ground pepper

~ Cream the shortening/sugar/egg until thoroughly combined
~ Add molasses & mix
~ Add dry in batches, mixing until just combined (don’t overwork, or your cookies will be tough)
~ Spoon onto Silpat or prepared cookie sheet (Or you can roll them into balls if you like. Heh. Balls.), but make sure you don’t overcrowd - these spread quite a bit
~ Bake in a pre-heated 350 degree oven for about 15 minutes (when the edges just start to go brown)

Cheeky Cafe

He silently took off his wedding ring and threw it at me.

I had just confessed that I really don’t like meatloaf. This, apparently, is a deal breaker.

I’ve tried, mind you. It was one of the first things that Mum taught me how to make. Curiously, I remember really enjoying the cooking part, but I have absolutely no recollection of how it tasted. Pop occasionally made it, and because I love my Pop so much I will not describe it here as a ketchupy meat brick. Last week, I tried to make one, and it was a grotesque, structurally unsound lump. I just don’t like meatloaf.

The Man of the House finds this unthinkable. Unspeakable. Inhuman. He loves meatloaf. It made a regular appearance on his family’s table, and he models his on his Mother’s version: a pretty standard ground beef/breadcrumb/onion/ketchup combination in a free form mound (rather than in a loaf pan).

The chief problem seems to be the inherent ketchupy-ness of it all. I hate ketchup. Catsup. Whatever. It’s fine on french fries if mayo is unavailable, but nothing else. I am mistrustful of adults who take ketchup on their burgers, and I feel strongly that children who slather ketchup on everything should be packed off to Dickensian orphanages until they can develop a mature palate. Though to be fair, I feel strongly that most children should be packed off to Dickensian orphanages regardless of their stance on ketchup.

ANYWAY.
In an effort to try and repair the damage to my marriage, I suggested we try a new spot that opened just up the street, called the Cheeky Cafe.

Cheeky Cafe specializes in comfort food - everything is made from scratch. They have brunch, lunch, and dinner available (including a nice selection of small plates at night), and the back of the menu shares the story of how it came to be: a family wanted to preserve recipes and memories of happy times at the table. The comfort foods served range from Korean to Japanese to Southern fried (sometimes a blend of several at once), that reflect their heritage and our community. And it’s gooooood.

I had the Chicken Fried Steak, which was delicious - perfect crisp breading. I’d order extra gravy next time (‘coz that’s how my fat ass rolls), and probably skip the biscuit (which was oddly sweet and certainly leaden). We shared the fry bread - because fried dough is always a winner. It was delicious with the strawberry jam, and we look forward to ordering the chili/cheese version sometime soon.

The Man of the House had the meatloaf, naturally. It was bacon-wrapped, and decidedly NON-ketchupy. Spicy, in fact. I could tolerate it, which is an Herculean feat for any meatloaf.

As a result, my better half has decided that he will stick with me (though I suspect he will always view me with a vague suspicion from now on).

Cheeky Cafe
1700 South Jackson Street Seattle, WA 98144-2155
206.322.9895
Open Tue-Fri 11am-9pm; Weekends 10am-9pm

I'm staving off osteoperosis...

It sounds awful, just awful.
But it’s not.

I always put myself in Gamergrrl’s capable hands when it comes to cocktails, but I’ll admit that there was some trepidation when I saw her grab both milk AND scotch.

At first I thought maybe she was too far in the bag to know what she was making…but no, she was speaking clearly (and cleverly, as usual) and was still able to kick everyone’s ass at Kinect. Heaven knows you can’t do that shit loaded. Furniture will get broken.

I must have made a face, because she immediately let me know she was drinking it, too. “It’s supposed to have freshly grated nutmeg but…meh…the holidays are over.” She shook the drink, while I worried a little.

The Difford’s Guide refers to this drink as “Aggravation”, and suggests that “bedtime milk has never been so sexy”. Gamergrrl refers to it as “The Runaway”, because she had only the week before witnessed that even the most discreet persons can find themselves pantsless and incoherent under it’s influence.

It’s like a boozy Yoo-Hoo. Or maybe an alcoholic version of a bottled Frappuccino. It’s nummy and sleepy and soothing and it should not be left on end tables where dogs and toddlers can get to it.

• 1 ½  shot(s) J&B Rare Scotch whisky (but any whisky will do)
• 1 shot(s) Kahlua coffee liqueur
• 1 shot(s) Single cream
• 1 shot(s) Milk

Glass:  Rocks
Garnish:  Sprinkle ground nutmeg
Method:  Shake with ice and strain into ice-filled glass

The Secret to a Happy Marriage

There are times in a woman's life when she needs chocolate mousse - STAT.

The Man of the House whipped up a very simple and very delicious mousse for me. In the middle of the night. For no other reason than because I wanted some.

I'll let that sink in.

No argument. No positioning for a big "ask". He just made it because I wanted some. If you're wondering, YES, I appreciate him every single day, and NO, you cannot have or even borrow him. MINE.

Late Night Chocolate Mousse

• 13 ounces of good chocolate (bitter is better!)
• 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 2 tablespoons powdered sugar (adjust this depending on your chocolate and your palate)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• Optional: a little instant coffee or espresso (dissolved in just a touch of water or cream)

~ In a microwave safe bowl, melt the chocolate (careful! don't scorch it!)
~ Pour the cream into a chilled bowl of a mixer and beat on medium speed until it starts to thicken
~ Add the sugar and vanilla and whisk until the cream starts to form stiff peaks.
~ Take a little of the cream mixture and fold it into the chocolate to lighten it; then fold the lightened chocolate into the whipped cream.

 Voila, mousse!

Lunch Lady

This is a “Ladies’ Seafood Thermidore", from the Crowd-Size Entertaining section of the 1971 Betty Crocker Recipe Card Library.

Ingredients:

• 2 cans (4 oz each) sliced mushrooms
• 2 T butter or margarine
• 4 cans (about 10 oz each) condensed cream of shrimp soup
• 2 cans (7 ½ oz each) crab-meat, drained and picked over
• 4 cans (4 ½ oz each) shrimp, drained
• 2 cans (5 oz each) lobster, drained and broken apart
• 1 C milk
• ½ t dry mustard
• ½ t paprika
• 1/8 t cayenne
• ¼ C sherry

In a dutch oven, cook & stir the mushrooms (with liquid) in butter until heated through. Stir in remaining ingredients except sherry . Heat to boiling, stirring constantly. Stir in sherry. 12 servings.

The Wife liked any recipe that could be made with a bare minimum of effort.  Plus, the hummmmm hummmmm of the boxy electric can opener was soothing. She opened can after can after can - fourteen in all - and was almost sad when she finished. Hummmm.

Everything went into the pot. She lit a Belair, waited for the contents to boil, and poured far more than ¼ cup of sherry. The final dish contained none of it.