tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71275136090774059682023-11-16T03:21:02.620-08:00Balsamic ReductionAnneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-20490093459737017632011-03-14T10:01:00.000-07:002011-03-14T10:01:04.704-07:00I've Moved!!This blog has officially moved to it's new home: <a href="http://www.balsamicreductions.com/">www.balsamicreductions.com</a><br />
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~Balsamic ReductionsAnneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-56238316976294202132011-03-01T17:09:00.000-08:002011-03-01T17:10:09.902-08:00Shopping Hungry - the random meal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbb1Y70JEgEbQzPpzlaYYjsZmkSqbSNXLp1npd8VkNwjN9a_sO2FNo_RMwqL8_DCnrU06fpoE4hmcLp4y6S8wfYJtQ0BOAzR77F-irj-BjKviCpJFn7_OUOwT1iTXzDaU5nKSm9f1vFiMS/s1600/PA+Dutch+Lunch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbb1Y70JEgEbQzPpzlaYYjsZmkSqbSNXLp1npd8VkNwjN9a_sO2FNo_RMwqL8_DCnrU06fpoE4hmcLp4y6S8wfYJtQ0BOAzR77F-irj-BjKviCpJFn7_OUOwT1iTXzDaU5nKSm9f1vFiMS/s400/PA+Dutch+Lunch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Did your mother ever give you the advice to never go grocery shopping hungry? Cause my mama did - and she was right! Not only will you end up spending a lot more money than you meant to, but you can also end up with some dangerously random food in your house. Even worse - I fall serious victim to longings that inspire lusts which in turn inspire more cravings. That is exactly what happened to me today. <br />
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There I was, innocently going to the store for some ginger ale (aw dang - I forgot the ginger ale!), when I think "I've got some unexpected extra free time today - why don't I make something to post about." Well that is just the kind of free pass I don't need to be giving myself! Distractedly wandering up and down the aisles, a theme starts to develop. Sauerkraut... that would be awesome! Yeah, on a rye grilled cheese with apple cider mustard... Well of course with this on the brain I can't pass up some kielbasa. ...nor could I honestly see the fresh pierogies and not pick some up. Butter fried onions anyone? I'm no saint - I'm just a girl who's clearly missing some good Pennsylvania Dutch food in my diet (though I don't really know how that actually happens to a person).<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dLXA0Hk8NNK3dtPLEGafDHO-x05l5-6a4Vvpp0IHnRMubYTm6Y_mzyq9CAsm1AJDXf3dKi5iAcmmX8OlpHgktx4k5whqTpMVQ6oslVkPnSadigUipTust8wdi04f49ZhcZbrBLb-QZP7/s1600/PA+Dutch+Lunch-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8dLXA0Hk8NNK3dtPLEGafDHO-x05l5-6a4Vvpp0IHnRMubYTm6Y_mzyq9CAsm1AJDXf3dKi5iAcmmX8OlpHgktx4k5whqTpMVQ6oslVkPnSadigUipTust8wdi04f49ZhcZbrBLb-QZP7/s400/PA+Dutch+Lunch-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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A few days ago I read <a href="http://mattikaarts.com/blog/about/">Matt Wright's blog</a> post about <a href="http://mattikaarts.com/blog/condiment/homemade-apple-brandy-mustard/">making his own mustard</a>. Now I'm on a whole new inspiration whirlwind of food projects. Really as soon as mustard or a vinegar based food is a part of my craving (in this case the sauerkraut) there's no stopping it. I really want to get into making my own sauerkraut too - as I can never seem to find any potent enough for my tastes. Add cheese to this mess of cravings and it's all over. I give up. I give in. I can't help myself. I slab some butter in a pan and give in to the randomness.What else can a girl do?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7fki_tu2IB5NHN1FKHknHnHQjTYHJ3oJnT6mrf6B4FDG2dP56N-QmXZy1cQE1L5qxNYO6DzgJmc7eHAefMJ02RnA4l34vHz_wgqvqrwUUULNN0fR5rO25qn4wuLykgL_n7CkN3DwVJ-f/s1600/PA+Dutch+Lunch-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj7fki_tu2IB5NHN1FKHknHnHQjTYHJ3oJnT6mrf6B4FDG2dP56N-QmXZy1cQE1L5qxNYO6DzgJmc7eHAefMJ02RnA4l34vHz_wgqvqrwUUULNN0fR5rO25qn4wuLykgL_n7CkN3DwVJ-f/s400/PA+Dutch+Lunch-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Onions frying, I realize I've never made pierogies myself. Do I have to boil them before I fry them? I take my chances (in retrospect I'd say that's why they ended up rather dry inside and next time I'll boil them first, but no worries - it wasn't something a bit of extra mustard couldn't fix). <br />
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At the end of my meal though I have to say my mama was right. Don't shop hungry. I had to put this meal on a pretty blue plate just to distract from the fact that the meal itself was entirely the same brown color and covered in butter. Don't get me wrong, that sandwich might just start a grilled cheese habit in my life, I feel good having a few more portions of pierogies waiting for me in the freezer, and I'm <i>never</i> against frying an entire meal in butter... but I probably would have bought more vegetables for my money if I'd stopped for some tea and biscuits before heading out. <br />
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Thanks for the advice Mom.Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-91327144786287741412011-02-23T09:23:00.000-08:002011-02-23T09:34:03.410-08:00If Loving You Is Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right - stuffed jalapeños<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVYuIwIwlRV4g3CfTkt9cXJtdt9hK3Th9expsEsb-ji5egxh7PPqQWSyHiqvv_r5W8Y2r0a9ymqNXfMLIZ53SZpljOYvUDpRjXd1PG1PzDEX1aOgszGsrkeckaV9bp39vDmpJPNxttquE/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-03.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOVYuIwIwlRV4g3CfTkt9cXJtdt9hK3Th9expsEsb-ji5egxh7PPqQWSyHiqvv_r5W8Y2r0a9ymqNXfMLIZ53SZpljOYvUDpRjXd1PG1PzDEX1aOgszGsrkeckaV9bp39vDmpJPNxttquE/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-03.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
In a classic romantic comedy style - I didn't even like them when I first met them. They had such potential to be loved, but fell flat of any of the excitement that their name built them up to be. What's not to love about stuffed jalapeños? At the beginning of this story - plenty. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-amc5bWlxKJqG1eVuKnufgxupybE_M6mTf6bGvgVelxdWLEcV6skfvwraFAGsCGnQXO2XYeKB4CjK7WyLAqvG75rKcUuRZuB0PhAPHTH47NnPhEashMPbjv0hMXX8FxVSmDxP2KD95QdY/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-amc5bWlxKJqG1eVuKnufgxupybE_M6mTf6bGvgVelxdWLEcV6skfvwraFAGsCGnQXO2XYeKB4CjK7WyLAqvG75rKcUuRZuB0PhAPHTH47NnPhEashMPbjv0hMXX8FxVSmDxP2KD95QdY/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-13.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
I had just moved to the east coast and was being introduced to wonderful world of fried snack foods. They sounded sexy. Starting with a scooped out shell of loveliness, they were filled to the brim with cheese then breaded and fried. I'm not normally one to ever be against something being filled to oozing with melting cheese. I should have fallen in love right there, but something had happened to those jalapeños. Something I wasn't prepared for. They were so filled with cream cheese they had no kick left to them and were fried so dark brown they had no texture of their own to stand on. I love jalapeños for what they are - spicy bites of happiness. Mine is a true love and enough cream cheese can take take the spice out of anything. This love story was not heading in the right direction.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I was prepared to love them, but this is act I and the hero is never ready for victory in act I. As with every good love story my champions were destined to overcome and win my heart, but it was a good ten years before I let them back in my life.<br />
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I had been ignoring these disappointing flavorless versions of eating peppers (I could barely buy hot salsa in these parts - what's with the obsession with mild?), but all that changed just a few weeks ago. An old roommate set out to make some jalapeños. They blended in some cheddar to their filling and had such failure at frying that they baked them instead. My interest was peaked (as real cheese will always do). <br />
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Cheddar? They could be baked? I'd never seen someone make them at home before... maybe they could be inspiring after all.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpmEC0cZfORQ2L4k5L1RsgarbOoCNtWhlM1YCBj3mIpi93BnHshuNuT8Htmv__4faheEXZWqWURsxwpl3Z1iGub7ZwxCtu4n7_Qmdi_koXFMQnOYzSA6f9oshGs8bUOeOArOW9XfLQpby/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-36.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpmEC0cZfORQ2L4k5L1RsgarbOoCNtWhlM1YCBj3mIpi93BnHshuNuT8Htmv__4faheEXZWqWURsxwpl3Z1iGub7ZwxCtu4n7_Qmdi_koXFMQnOYzSA6f9oshGs8bUOeOArOW9XfLQpby/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-36.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
The pile of jalapeños I bought were sitting on the counter looking so tempting and flavorful. How could something so beautiful and full of potential have gone so wrong? Maybe they had just been mistreated or lead astray. Maybe they deserved a real chance.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR_hWE-nqjd8FmoRJ4zp6Zl_ASF-knkgMS15Sxr4ysS6NHMJfKxrijvr1ILYkg40ekqlEE8JDMQbaUJpqdsDtPI8Gstj2MDe0C6Njufpj6fIk9HZ1xdLxSEAVOUsru2UDPSpF4Y3nm0SU/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMR_hWE-nqjd8FmoRJ4zp6Zl_ASF-knkgMS15Sxr4ysS6NHMJfKxrijvr1ILYkg40ekqlEE8JDMQbaUJpqdsDtPI8Gstj2MDe0C6Njufpj6fIk9HZ1xdLxSEAVOUsru2UDPSpF4Y3nm0SU/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-37.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
A love like this deserves only what is good and none of what went wrong. I dropped cream cheese from the recipe altogether. Why not treat them more like stuffed peppers than the fried snacks everyone thought of them as? My cheese blend starts to get interesting. Cilantro, fresh corn, tomato, red onion in a minuscule dice... Hell - throw caution to the wind! If this could really be love let's just go all in. Bacon is the love potion that can turn this story around.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREGWC0qCYe_KbbqDFpy_TKk2dbvoI59zCl4Q_MI8a56CCFIL2wT6TDkvJY6OvUTYy4lLISpurnbSJiqZXDvMS1BYIqRbC3I8TD_dD8SPXf5j3U-yz9bmXTKoKW_O9WV-bU4zfYnC6qrLP/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="277" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhREGWC0qCYe_KbbqDFpy_TKk2dbvoI59zCl4Q_MI8a56CCFIL2wT6TDkvJY6OvUTYy4lLISpurnbSJiqZXDvMS1BYIqRbC3I8TD_dD8SPXf5j3U-yz9bmXTKoKW_O9WV-bU4zfYnC6qrLP/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-55.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I mix everything together and fill all twenty of my jalapeño boats. Topped with cheddar to let them be as pretty as they deserve to be, I put them in the oven to work out their magic.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiRUANnuc0E1Oq7qckhThuMwcDVAAHcbZI1CxdZ8Dnfx46mirOFXqg-81h8IUhayM0YuaehUljwBgSqPe3dn9h5B8jc4leDKy2APHJW9nyC9PpoqRG0QzBx7URz2X6fvSchQdjw1xmcxq/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-74.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBiRUANnuc0E1Oq7qckhThuMwcDVAAHcbZI1CxdZ8Dnfx46mirOFXqg-81h8IUhayM0YuaehUljwBgSqPe3dn9h5B8jc4leDKy2APHJW9nyC9PpoqRG0QzBx7URz2X6fvSchQdjw1xmcxq/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-74.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
There's always a scene in every romantic comedy when the characters finally realize that they are made for each other despite their fighting and tension of the rest of the film. We already know it's coming. We saw the stars on the poster together. We know they will fall in love, it's just a matter of watching how it happens. We just hope that the scene is written well enough that we can endure the potential cheesiness of the reveal.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3ysqtfdh6RFM9ykeOtb-7HfzgXsBwL5djp6hf8fTPTIPnBhDrSzi_AySw95aSrgUCsKMED-BPdCKEACqYWb_rpXgbmJvc2IKC7DE7jq-IifSIlZMtse_7AiLwncMudR4HZOFBCVw9UkV/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3ysqtfdh6RFM9ykeOtb-7HfzgXsBwL5djp6hf8fTPTIPnBhDrSzi_AySw95aSrgUCsKMED-BPdCKEACqYWb_rpXgbmJvc2IKC7DE7jq-IifSIlZMtse_7AiLwncMudR4HZOFBCVw9UkV/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-61.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Well this story is no different. A girl like me was never meant to be without this love. Jalapeños <i>with </i>cilantro <i>and </i>real cheese? I never had a chance. I was just waiting for them to live up to their potential. The jalapenos actually taste like a vegetable. They still have some spicy left to them but are filled with flavor and texture. They still ooze (no one ever wanted them to loose that precious quality), but now they string out cheese between crisp pops of fresh summery corn and salty bites of bacon. Now I really am ready to go off and watch my sunset with my spicy bites of happiness.</div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LXbP5FRWPLcRqoMtZ12Gc5cG49anW0CWl42YBcTZee_A8Ff7AfQgYUluhobKxOs-ahR0Vo1TJ_1nb_oolTHOoPywHhRtPOxW9b-MPZQgDXm0GQXDdnJnZeutsPPg6HAbt4Z_fMLKX22B/s1600/Stuffed+Jalapenos-80.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6LXbP5FRWPLcRqoMtZ12Gc5cG49anW0CWl42YBcTZee_A8Ff7AfQgYUluhobKxOs-ahR0Vo1TJ_1nb_oolTHOoPywHhRtPOxW9b-MPZQgDXm0GQXDdnJnZeutsPPg6HAbt4Z_fMLKX22B/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-80.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'll admit it - I'm in love.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<b>The Madness</b><br />
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<ul><li>14-16 jalapeño peppers*</li>
<li>7 strips cooked bacon (chopped)</li>
<li>1/4 cup red onion (tiny dice)</li>
<li>1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro</li>
<li>1/4 cup diced tomato (tiny dice - discarding the seeds)</li>
<li>1 ear of fresh corn</li>
<li>1/2 cup shredded jack cheese</li>
<li>salt + pepper (to taste)</li>
<li>1 teaspoon garlic powder</li>
<li>cheddar cheese to top the filled peppers (slices would work more easily that the shredded cheese in my pictures)</li>
</ul><br />
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<div id="recipe-method"><b><span style="font-size: small;">The Method</span></b></div><div id="recipe-method"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div id="recipe-method"><span style="font-size: small;">Preheat the oven to 375°.</span> <br />
Slice the jalapeños in half lengthwise and scrape out the seeds and ribs from each jalapeño with a small pairing knife.<br />
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Mix together all the filling ingredients except the cheddar cheese. <br />
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Fill each pepper half with the mix and top with a slice of cheddar cheese. Arrange the peppers on a foil-lined baking sheet and bake for 20-30 minutes, or until the cheese is bubbly and lightly browned, and the peppers are cooked.<br />
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Allow to cool for 5 minutes before serving.<br />
<div id="recipe-yield"><br />
</div><div id="recipe-yield">Makes 28-32 servings* </div><div id="recipe-yield"><br />
</div><div id="recipe-yield"><b>The Warning</b></div><div id="recipe-yield"> </div><div id="recipe-yield">*I know that this is a potentially excessive amount of jalapenos. I myself was only rescued by a roommate coming home for lunch with perfect timing. <b>I tend to always make too much food.</b> You can actually sit and eat a pile of these - they're almost like tortilla free quesadillas, and is actually a <a href="http://www.celiac.com/articles/186/1/Corn-Gluten---Is-it-Safe-for-a-People-with-Celiac-Disease-Who-are-on-a-Gluten-Free-Diet/Page1.html">gluten-free meal</a>. I recommend waiting for a party or guests coming over if you're not really prepared for the love-fest that these inspire.</div></div><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC863LoIuacO7ouRwt2J5_18yBri0tOemD_J7r5B-bvFq5WR5sH4fBTtIJy8wLOh3YCK1SeaVutzfaiCo201nwQpzWXZgW-JUaMkbUbFeh4OIBE6NkWuLeMAqY2H-lfJw-ZnE564FpDa3o/s400/Stuffed+Jalapenos-71.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="301" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aw yeah. What's not to love now?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-23569014599975406452011-02-18T12:59:00.000-08:002011-02-18T12:59:18.251-08:00Me - a most random bio<b><u>25 things you never knew about me (and quite possibly never needed to know).</u></b><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmx66EygtI5lgJNG86nWIXezD2qlPaaWNZQ6mdW37rUHz41sfoplYrqzvX4zdckqPTImCOwy2I21nJoTNgi2qiJd8aHKQnsqOUdganXYZXK1B8OUOKBAbQxubLV-5v-x-ETWHLyR26UKY/s1600/Blog+Marketing-25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYmx66EygtI5lgJNG86nWIXezD2qlPaaWNZQ6mdW37rUHz41sfoplYrqzvX4zdckqPTImCOwy2I21nJoTNgi2qiJd8aHKQnsqOUdganXYZXK1B8OUOKBAbQxubLV-5v-x-ETWHLyR26UKY/s400/Blog+Marketing-25.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
1. My glasses slide down my nose <i>every</i> time both hands are full carrying something.<br />
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2. I only buy <i>really</i> good ice cream - but it will still die freezer-burned forgotten half-full.<br />
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3. I start 90% of my blog posts handwritten in a journal.<br />
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4. I always have a waiter's wine key at the bottom of my purse.<br />
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5. I'm the middle of 5 siblings.<br />
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6. My meat intake cut in half when I let a vegetarian move into my house.<br />
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7. My bacon intake doubled when I let a vegetarian move into my house.<br />
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8. I will always, always, always - no matter how hard I try to remember to pay attention - burn the last pan of cookies.<br />
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9. Most of the time when I'm cooking I feel like I'm on a cooking show explaining everything to my audience.<br />
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10. I think the only good beer is a sour beer (Yay Lambics!)<br />
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11. As a kid mustard was by far my favorite condiment - now it's joined by vinegar and hot sauce as my top three.<br />
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12. I think I'm nerdier than my friends realize.<br />
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13. I don't love eating my own cooking - I can't stop analyzing it for what I'd do differently next time.<br />
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14. I will finally consider myself cool if I ever own a forest green (or sky blue) 1970s VW Beetle and a white surfboard.<br />
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15. I think avocados are one of the truly perfect foods.<br />
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16. I once heard a quote about a woman saying if she were stranded on a deserted island she would want her mascara - I would want a knife, a pan and rope.<br />
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17. I excel at parallel parking.<br />
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18. I wore Chuck Taylors even when they weren't cool.<br />
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19. I spent most of my childhood climbing trees (preferably picking apples or plums).<br />
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20. If I could only have one lunch for the rest of my life it would be grilled fish and avocado over a salad with balsamic vinaigrette.<br />
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21. I will never throw away a pair of plaid pants I bought in high school at a thrift store because I never want to be able to deny to myself that I actually wore them.<br />
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22. I really like men who can cook - but I adore men who love to eat what I cook<br />
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23. Goldfish crackers are my stress food.<br />
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24. I take more risks in life than is probably healthy - but I will still never feel the need to go skydiving<br />
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25. The one recipe I will never give away is my mom's old-school spaghetti recipe (which even she has mostly forgotten).Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-32971226233118087272011-02-16T08:53:00.000-08:002011-02-16T08:53:48.057-08:00An Excuse for a Dinner Party - fresh berry syrup over wafflesIf you had an excuse for a dinner party on a Monday, and it was an excuse to upgrade said party to include <i>several </i>desserts and quite a bit more wine than a week day generally deserves, it would also be an excuse to invite new friends to the party.<br />
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The thing is, when you're single you can't just ignore Valentine's Day altogether no matter how much you may want to. Because if you try to ignore it you run too high a risk of being reminded it's V-day in the wrong way and it becoming depressing. All those facebook posts from your married friends gushing over each other ring a bell to anyone? Not that I'm holding it against them, it's just a darn good annoying example. The thing is - I don't mind being single on V-day. Cause I really can't imagine it being nearly as much fun if I had to spend it with a guy who felt obligated to get me flowers for no better reason. For me V-day is a day to get your friends together and laugh, eat, drink and solidify our friendships by supporting each other against loneliness. It's the best kind of day for friends sometimes.<br />
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We decided the theme for the meal should be bacon and we would make breakfast for dinner (still drooling thinking about bacon waffles...).<br />
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I was in charge of making the savory sides. I wasn't sure if I would be in the mood for a sweet dinner and hedged my bets against waffles with a bacon jalapeno hash. Turns out I bet wrong. The hash was completely forgettable when compared to the fresh berry syrup I invented for our waffles.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfAUenrhiwDdyuziLgf0tdNO5FuvMO6rf-8NaRFjpPhbB_I0pYJlDweDzSN0DfEfxh_Wzff8ZFs2DQ9NpDfK5wZ1GWiX8-F-SzbH_prwhopPDrI6lZKl954roLX9rxqBNOFgx_I-gBm1f/s1600/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNfAUenrhiwDdyuziLgf0tdNO5FuvMO6rf-8NaRFjpPhbB_I0pYJlDweDzSN0DfEfxh_Wzff8ZFs2DQ9NpDfK5wZ1GWiX8-F-SzbH_prwhopPDrI6lZKl954roLX9rxqBNOFgx_I-gBm1f/s400/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-57.jpg" width="243" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
I had randomly gotten a pint of strawberries and blueberries that were abnormally well priced for February. Yes, I still try and infuse healthy elements to my meals even if it's a bacon-based dinner. It's about finding balance. I start munching on the berries while I'm cooking and to my shock they were the best blueberries I've ever eaten! (Apparently it must be blueberry season in Chile) Suddenly inspired by their bright almost citrus-y sweetness, I started to make a compote to top our waffles. My mom would just sprinkle a bit of sugar over berries and let them sit until they produced juice. That was as simple as it ever needed to be. However, I had just learned to <a href="http://balsamicreduction.blogspot.com/2011/02/sometimes-you-just-need-something-fancy.html">candy orange peels</a> and was sure I could do more to bring out their flavor than just adding sugar. I needed an experiment. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurpZpLnqW0tpkL5n9B8R3FZsZKezmdm3pZHIjIjsLvtxJTUNBfmj_YbDbjkVAs1q1zdePactjV-XXIJKVXXAtbqWwyMd3rYXWpju_BjOTu4fUukBQ5SF2HYVCERahD3GM-qbDr7gyvCpA/s1600/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurpZpLnqW0tpkL5n9B8R3FZsZKezmdm3pZHIjIjsLvtxJTUNBfmj_YbDbjkVAs1q1zdePactjV-XXIJKVXXAtbqWwyMd3rYXWpju_BjOTu4fUukBQ5SF2HYVCERahD3GM-qbDr7gyvCpA/s400/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-20.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I set a cup of water to boil with a half cup of sugar. For good measure I put in some of my candied orange peels for an orange flavor and then dumped what berries I hadn't already eaten into the pot (about half a pint each blueberries and chopped strawberries). When it started to make a beautiful purple syrup I tasted it. Ugh - just sweet. It was loosing everything that made those blueberries so irresistible! Strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries... their appeal is so much more than their sweetness, it's their bold balance with tartness that makes them worth craving.<br />
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No worries, the perfect counterpart to blueberries is lemon. This just needed lemon juice. But somehow I was out of lemon juice (I know - how does that even happen?!!). Horror. Lime juice is the next obvious go-to, but I didn't really want it to taste like lime. I put a whole bunch of lime juice in anyway and set into looking through my cupboards for inspiration.<br />
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You can make fun of me later, but I tell you the truth - it's one of the most versatile ingredients in my kitchen... I pull out my white balsamic vinegar. Though brighter and less sweet than it's aged dark counterpart, white balsamic still has that ready-to-drink quality that make the sweeter vinegars balance. I start pouring it in. Not just a splash mind you, I pour in easily as much vinegar as I did lime juice. A revelation of flavors and balances erupts. Seriously the dessert makers of the world are underestimating vinegars as a source of beauty and inspiration. I am in love.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYqEQycroepllUhUbANZV2fHX-nmiLBA7ofc9yDmtysppiOfKEaHz6TdlWVHpRhukjPS-1NDhsWZp4mbGnZoNo_ppHEsOdF-r-7C0JvfFdF4Bt7gMj-zH0a98jXpiqjJiNld_rrXsen87/s1600/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwYqEQycroepllUhUbANZV2fHX-nmiLBA7ofc9yDmtysppiOfKEaHz6TdlWVHpRhukjPS-1NDhsWZp4mbGnZoNo_ppHEsOdF-r-7C0JvfFdF4Bt7gMj-zH0a98jXpiqjJiNld_rrXsen87/s400/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-10.jpg" width="285" /></a></div><br />
We told stories and laughed. We make plain waffles heaven with a bacon crumble and berry syrup. Who would believe that a Monday could be this good?<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYIUsWRFRjsz2MmoS9x-xS3qeM9ZBcB484VvAvidSuWssGkl0_TzPq_54hpreWjzH478dQlN2qZ28pBSTTHtUPe6S42KCvQSne6leiQYquo4qwHsRNfefIpXPXq58Lk7juIW40OWRKdEE/s1600/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-39.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiYIUsWRFRjsz2MmoS9x-xS3qeM9ZBcB484VvAvidSuWssGkl0_TzPq_54hpreWjzH478dQlN2qZ28pBSTTHtUPe6S42KCvQSne6leiQYquo4qwHsRNfefIpXPXq58Lk7juIW40OWRKdEE/s400/Berry+Syrup+Waffles-39.jpg" width="291" /></a></div><br />
<div style="color: black;"><b>The Method & The Madness</b></div><br />
<ul><li>1 cup water</li>
<li>1/2 cup sugar</li>
<li>1 tablespoon candied orange peels (optional)</li>
<li>1 1/2 pints berries (preferably blueberries, but a mix is great too) </li>
<li>about 1/4 cup lime juice*</li>
<li>about 1/4 cup white balsamic vinegar*<span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: x-small;">*add these to taste (as I didn't measure while making this) but keeping roughly equal portions of each</span><br />
Boil the water, sugar and orange peels. Add your berries. When the syrup turns a lovely dark purple add your lime juice and vinegar. Simmer for another 2 minutes and let cool before serving.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-23721019118843332472011-02-13T16:53:00.000-08:002011-02-13T16:58:28.344-08:00Look Ma! I Baked! - savory apple tart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ4KaishTS1qjBlWwynKIreLb4N0Ixh4Byff0j1WSe-O7NlNwGSz1jQpFt5DXOxqd_4T_HrKPGlneuiuVO6zkFtklC88yA36E8cm82Vd0ozC_Hq6J3MAiRQODt1Cul8LqGS4BlnyHQWsy/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheZ4KaishTS1qjBlWwynKIreLb4N0Ixh4Byff0j1WSe-O7NlNwGSz1jQpFt5DXOxqd_4T_HrKPGlneuiuVO6zkFtklC88yA36E8cm82Vd0ozC_Hq6J3MAiRQODt1Cul8LqGS4BlnyHQWsy/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-24.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: left;">Sometimes I just get antsy. Sometimes I just need to cook something special occasion without having the occasion (because I might not actually have anyone to feed it to). This week has been like that a lot. I have been spending the better part of this week looking for a job - and the rest of it cooking elaborately to ease the stir-craziness of looking for a job. When I came across <a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/">Elise Bauers'</a> recipe on <a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/">Simply Recipes</a> for an <a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/apple_walnut_gorgonzola_rustic_tart/">Apple Walnut Gorgonzola Tart</a> I practically fell out of my chair.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: left;">Last night I had a long discussion of whether I could only have one cheese for the rest of my life what would it be. The idea made me so sad to live with just one type of cheese that I had to use one of the cheeses that would have been sacrificed because it wouldn't have made the cut as my one and only.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #666666; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE41XF-HXnlLYc-Fxz8adQXKAxlmslcmp-RFRHEE9yQXXOxZlroNCPR7WB1zlqz7kwsDHRqCct9jVYe4c5bdNE99QlVKP5IGQQoJGGQO1WR2S901vYc9QTiwSccZ-NxnEQj0dlGrKjbQQc/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-6.jpg" width="400" /></div><br />
I don't really use recipes when I'm cooking at home. I'm more of a "look at the picture and get inspired to make something kind of like that amazing thing in the picture" kind of girl. I'll read through a recipe for the main points (like oven temperatures and times). If I <i>really </i>respect the chef or have no where near the knowledge to make the recipe up on my own (like pastries), I <i>try </i>to follow the recipe most of the way exactly the first time I make it. I will probably never again make it that exact same way, but variation and experimentation are the names of my games.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYtJf-qG0cbd0jrmGb8A6cTTwRMzHLA1IK0omF1uL0WTZEfYz-xqLaW9hXr8zDrxc4ovHjkQp8eHzgelq8ZQrXdllMSe2NMjEuo-9pti9Ex1KzEzC_hUR6ILfvHbAgLKCbLo-ZHiBbU-g/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwYtJf-qG0cbd0jrmGb8A6cTTwRMzHLA1IK0omF1uL0WTZEfYz-xqLaW9hXr8zDrxc4ovHjkQp8eHzgelq8ZQrXdllMSe2NMjEuo-9pti9Ex1KzEzC_hUR6ILfvHbAgLKCbLo-ZHiBbU-g/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-12.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I already have a pie crust recipe that I like, but this recipe is a 5 minute breeze if you use a pre-made pie crust. This recipe was just about the fillings for me. Fresh thyme, granny smith apples, Gorgonzola...?!? I might be in-love. I loved that it was an idea that would satisfy my elaborate baking kind of mood but wasn't another dessert. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKk52yWgn4HcO3wVjnTC8fgIpfknmXdQcC-b98JaikidsuslaoRh7_pn8wliFEBTEXSnd86AbmLLPacYISXh-I6I-BZvjTA9U6f7tSP3skO1FEl083p48LeHMVJs2f0LwYehBoeIHXZ8zM/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKk52yWgn4HcO3wVjnTC8fgIpfknmXdQcC-b98JaikidsuslaoRh7_pn8wliFEBTEXSnd86AbmLLPacYISXh-I6I-BZvjTA9U6f7tSP3skO1FEl083p48LeHMVJs2f0LwYehBoeIHXZ8zM/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-21.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Elise's recipe is beautiful in it's simplicity. Literally a handful of ingredients cocooned in a pie crust nestled together in the oven. I don't have any maple syrup in the house right now (ironically I've planned a breakfast-for-dinner dinner party for tomorrow) so I just used sugar (and reduced the amount by half). I also substituted pistachios for walnuts and it was a really pleasant change of pace (not trying to be fancy - it's just randomly what I happened to have).<br />
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I definitely don't think the lemon juice is optional and actually added some lemon zest to mine, which I loved for the added balance of tartness. Gotta love Granny Smith. I don't know the ol' lady, but I owe her a debt of love. I also added both salt and pepper (1/2 teaspoons each freshly ground) to the mix as I love the savory side of this story and salt enhances even the best sweets.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnq__kOlTnP1xCxPkaImBq7ZRxnVNickfZfvl-dlp9fChhj_H7db5Lxd924rUu6SFJGnqobRv-n_n9UJ5Nem7gltHyx4q4ckOaD8PGQcTpvtzSeCuu13bmc-perxpaJGrb5THN8Q-9Ne12/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnq__kOlTnP1xCxPkaImBq7ZRxnVNickfZfvl-dlp9fChhj_H7db5Lxd924rUu6SFJGnqobRv-n_n9UJ5Nem7gltHyx4q4ckOaD8PGQcTpvtzSeCuu13bmc-perxpaJGrb5THN8Q-9Ne12/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-28.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Being me I'm sure I ended up with almost twice the cheese she called for, but my tart was more than happy for it. This tart would be remarkable with goat cheese as well. :)<br />
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I topped it with some freshly grated nutmeg and put it in the oven.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKC1NwP0BWUc-ZiUwCmSGc7F-ueR2S_bFDY8PkXsVrciALdrYCNm7X_MK1kStc3aah1cSt2fXXGbXFBIsfZwt6rVigh8tTu1Y1-Az5wd_MWIEFkZYSNl340nNHDUhQVsKq2oEINTJfEy5b/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKC1NwP0BWUc-ZiUwCmSGc7F-ueR2S_bFDY8PkXsVrciALdrYCNm7X_MK1kStc3aah1cSt2fXXGbXFBIsfZwt6rVigh8tTu1Y1-Az5wd_MWIEFkZYSNl340nNHDUhQVsKq2oEINTJfEy5b/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-32.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See Ma - Packman likes it too!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I <i>adore </i>this tart! It's like a perfect cheese course served up in a pie crust (and who doesn't love pie crust!?!). That's kind of how I worked through my flavor changes. Despite having never made this tart before I have had<i> a lot</i> of cheese plates and it if sounded like it would work on a cheese plate then it will probably work out alright. Speaking of which - I think I'll use honey next time instead of sugar...<br />
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The Gorgonzola melted its way through every layer and still had enough pockets of creaminess to ooze. After my first huge slice, and I mean Packman's mouth huge, I had a revelation! The one thing that would take this tart over the top... a drizzle of a balsamic reduction of course. :)<br />
<br />
<u><b>My Version of the Savory Apple Tart</b></u><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(for baking instructions please follow this link to <a href="http://simplyrecipes.com/recipes/apple_walnut_gorgonzola_rustic_tart/">SimplyRecipes.com's original post</a>)</span><br />
<ul><li>1 packaged, flat pie crust</li>
<li>1/2 cup pistachios (or walnuts), chopped</li>
<li>1/2 cup crumbled gorgonzola cheese (or blue cheese)</li>
<li>1+ tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped, or 1/2 teaspoon dried</li>
<li>1.5 Tbsp honey</li>
<li>2 large granny smith apples, peeled, cored, chopped</li>
<li>1 teaspoon of lemon juice </li>
<li>1 teaspoon lemon zest</li>
<li>freshly grated nutmeg</li>
</ul>Finish with a balsamic reduction. :) <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur1LB2lnXGb7QlTU3CJy1qdO2vlX7tx8Ag8wbPa0ft8P7CyiAI7lj3dwnhNGx1Pufsl6RXyVseBDkY0HUWVB7ZEkSXA78DCHo8nrP-qCRHMalLjjqsVp_MODka7YJeDcp_c825MR2CLeR/s1600/Blue+Apple+Tarte-65.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhur1LB2lnXGb7QlTU3CJy1qdO2vlX7tx8Ag8wbPa0ft8P7CyiAI7lj3dwnhNGx1Pufsl6RXyVseBDkY0HUWVB7ZEkSXA78DCHo8nrP-qCRHMalLjjqsVp_MODka7YJeDcp_c825MR2CLeR/s400/Blue+Apple+Tarte-65.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-11781630902992038892011-02-11T14:40:00.000-08:002011-02-11T14:40:40.545-08:00Sometimes You Just Need Something Fancy - candied orange peels<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am not one of those people who shy's away from extraordinary ingredients. Don't get me wrong - I'm not going to go buying a <span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody">Berkshire pig leg</span> </span>without knowing I have a seriously great recipe/occasion for one. Yet my heart thrills to see the fancy packaging of the Italian chocolate-hazelnut spread on my shelf and will occasionally concede in spending the extra $1 more than nutella just to have that moment of love for myself. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIDSX9HQn09gU1yPMy9parqfV_8ksb73Jha-G6s1KdedM8hGpvfBl33CWkwhrKsMd1KH7u8lV0EuerQK93yNXAhjuT7q1wO69YMUVyKymuiyXdHId6r_aix3-jYTrEXTEJeehUPFnEXD0E/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-1.jpg" width="388" /></div><br />
My favorite "fancy" ingredients are my citrus sugar and an <a href="http://balsamicreduction.blogspot.com/2009/11/butter-current-obsession-can-you-blame.html">herb-infused butter</a> (both of which I make habitually whenever I have the proper leftovers). They are both incredibly simple and inexpensive, but when you actually have them to use you can't help but feel a bit lavish. This week I felt in desperate need of a nap everyday. I felt drained and unfocused, so I set about making something elaborate just because, just to pamper myself.<br />
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I went to visit my friend Carolyn once and she was casually making candied orange peels like it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing. I, of course, thought she was extravagantly crazy. I've never even used candied orange peels, much less felt the need to make my own. It seemed an overly fussy thing to make. After Carolyn burned her first batch to udder black tar (I guess friends can be distracting) - we went to the store for more oranges. Not only was she crazy enough to make candied orange peels - but she was willing to make them again immediately!<br />
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I was intrigued. Apparently she has a bread recipe that makes all this worth it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8tpC512zeaEirE1nuiQozDRCbZaAFNWOiW_3o_PG3tBqdsOyQ1FUFO08MCEararGKyKRoRPkE32Aic3M_NNsPjMUOAf84mEmfbPCQi0KaKnHo7GZX0pGlJeJs3hUsnVjU3Vb7OzrxPAG/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN8tpC512zeaEirE1nuiQozDRCbZaAFNWOiW_3o_PG3tBqdsOyQ1FUFO08MCEararGKyKRoRPkE32Aic3M_NNsPjMUOAf84mEmfbPCQi0KaKnHo7GZX0pGlJeJs3hUsnVjU3Vb7OzrxPAG/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Sitting at her table helping her remove any signs of pith (the white stuff) from the peels - I was beginning to see the attraction to this recipe. It's like knitting - something simple that keeps your hands busy enough to slow your mind and clear your head.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8CsIHTu9iAltshYyVJX4zs10-FzGaN8bpmw7dFWCe5HjrKKhEoY6F35l_km33lnVkqjf5MFijAaZ1Le9aiUhfMVDLrq3kXVY3G1XBz47T4A62Ga-Tgt2NURF_z2MxuPwihxfQnn_d3x1/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh8CsIHTu9iAltshYyVJX4zs10-FzGaN8bpmw7dFWCe5HjrKKhEoY6F35l_km33lnVkqjf5MFijAaZ1Le9aiUhfMVDLrq3kXVY3G1XBz47T4A62Ga-Tgt2NURF_z2MxuPwihxfQnn_d3x1/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-18.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carolyn would remove all the pith to avoid bitterness, but I found using a <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/recipe/candied-orange-peel">pre-boil recipe much easier</a>.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
This is probably the only reason that, months later, the idea of making candied orange peels stuck with me. It has my required elements of being both cheap (therefore not a tragedy if it goes awry) and something I can keep around to use later in many variations of experiments. It also has a real element of being methodically relaxing to make and indulgent to have around. So fancy. I mean who really needs candied orange peels available at all times!?! <span style="font-size: x-small;">(please take note - I am not an avid baker. clearly.)</span> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4Xbk7YOpqzi__JPSvDtmoHkaDbXCf4-tDFEdR-mNCiccWF3lradIr0GCN-ZVziejS6yfHXGlSYgs9tOvqooRKoI4x4SaZV5s6NyGdQ-CDc0A1kGt0PUZ7Oa8rSHpizr2gSo-azTonYUK/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu4Xbk7YOpqzi__JPSvDtmoHkaDbXCf4-tDFEdR-mNCiccWF3lradIr0GCN-ZVziejS6yfHXGlSYgs9tOvqooRKoI4x4SaZV5s6NyGdQ-CDc0A1kGt0PUZ7Oa8rSHpizr2gSo-azTonYUK/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-24.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Despite having no earthly idea what to do with them if I'm actually successful making these slices of citrus gold I randomly bought oranges for the project anyway. Maybe that's part of what I needed out of this project anyway - a little bit of an adventure. Sometimes the best thing we can do for ourselves is open the door to a small inspiration that leads to the need for another small inspiration. I might just end up this week with scones out of this journey into the world of a new ingredient. I could always use more scones in my life.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGXsW7uwaKUFz0Pkf3Se25pS3nH28Gcwe7D85PAwIAvPSEXjfFoVBUlXYPtuDOCqKtRgZwjKSjRUrXGEtOHcQVGtZnQLDLL9h7c1YP_lN4XnH-SuxNrnVlRG8EJaizMl_ygwsrN_afyiU/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzGXsW7uwaKUFz0Pkf3Se25pS3nH28Gcwe7D85PAwIAvPSEXjfFoVBUlXYPtuDOCqKtRgZwjKSjRUrXGEtOHcQVGtZnQLDLL9h7c1YP_lN4XnH-SuxNrnVlRG8EJaizMl_ygwsrN_afyiU/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-43.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
I have never really gotten into boiling things in simple syrup until it utterly transformed. That's really all it is to candy something like this. It can have all the complexity of caramel with just 3 ingredients. In the last minute there's about 30 seconds between perfectly done and starting to burn, but as I succeeded in grabbing it off the stove in time I can't imagine it's that hard to time. I only burned my fingers lightly on the caramel goodness they're coated in setting them to cool. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmwVjxV604EYGzenKSxpq-IUbJekJeBsSTHcOh2NAQfndpKNwUjxZfQOLYUZws6yXIP59smTkHTEItNI86Uij6t5RcogiBcKIMe3Tkyfg_-joQJQWYxqPFPSMl-942cgul_-lPhFKsaoN/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUmwVjxV604EYGzenKSxpq-IUbJekJeBsSTHcOh2NAQfndpKNwUjxZfQOLYUZws6yXIP59smTkHTEItNI86Uij6t5RcogiBcKIMe3Tkyfg_-joQJQWYxqPFPSMl-942cgul_-lPhFKsaoN/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-51.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I might just have to start boiling things in sugar more often. This is where these experiments get me into trouble...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
They look like glowing strips of sunshine. Almost worth making just for how pretty they are. Still not sure what to do with them. They held onto that bite of citrus oil without becoming overly sweet so I imagine they would be great to infuse into baked goods... definitely need to try some scones. I would have to make them thicker if I wanted to dip them in dark chocolate, but as that's a classic pairing - perhaps they need to also infuse some brownies in my near future... yeah - not a bad experiment at all. :)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjip-99NZGCO4CAGKlZ2Ipg9j9A3LA-NxgoSF1iBEyzjy__UC4s2ojNEDDea7-p5rFX24TSvtF_kvmPRhtaeRawJl7ZUx31bMRFTZ8slBDVbZDfHl0AxxGLKyOymMf145J2bjhVwcJinThf/s1600/Candied+Orange+Peels-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjip-99NZGCO4CAGKlZ2Ipg9j9A3LA-NxgoSF1iBEyzjy__UC4s2ojNEDDea7-p5rFX24TSvtF_kvmPRhtaeRawJl7ZUx31bMRFTZ8slBDVbZDfHl0AxxGLKyOymMf145J2bjhVwcJinThf/s400/Candied+Orange+Peels-55.jpg" width="271" /></a></div><br />
As an added bonus - my attempt to simultaneously make candied orange slices completely failed (I think it was boiling too rapidly as it pushed all the fruit out of it's shells) and I made a spiced orange syrup to use for some new cocktail ideas. I love when good things come from something going all wrong. :)Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-75663056579850712302011-02-07T19:57:00.000-08:002011-02-23T09:33:07.048-08:00National Man-Food Day - aka the Superbowl<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGCZjTzeHzem2V-B7ubhKbOG_4QWISwQjLlSlj7yUoGEF1BjE3Hj2J_7-TTSUTx2rbMSLkaXGL5zM7_ULJHMyVTd0KajGAwaeFXwWhiiGVdpZrSbgnRMJJdb-92mfxLxa5AEsA2DkSAD7/s1600/Man+Food-13-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFGCZjTzeHzem2V-B7ubhKbOG_4QWISwQjLlSlj7yUoGEF1BjE3Hj2J_7-TTSUTx2rbMSLkaXGL5zM7_ULJHMyVTd0KajGAwaeFXwWhiiGVdpZrSbgnRMJJdb-92mfxLxa5AEsA2DkSAD7/s400/Man+Food-13-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I never quite realized how much Superbowl food could mean to me. I mean, I didn't even know what teams were playing until they turned on the game (I'm more of a classic connoisseur of Superbowl commercials kind of girl). But with all the <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/photogallery/wing-recipes">food articles</a> coming out and blog postings, like <a href="http://smittenkitchen.com/2011/02/meatball-sub-with-caramelized-onions/">Smitten Kitchen's</a> drool-inducing "if-you’re-going-to-do-it-you-might-as-well-go-all-the-way" meatball subs, to torture us. I was ready to go all in. I called up my guys and invited myself to their house to watch the game.<br />
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<i>"Great. Come on over. ...but I'm already making dinner and I'm not sure if there will be enough for you..."</i><br />
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What's for dinner? Baked snapper, wild rice and broccoli with parsnips.<br />
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There was a moment of dead silence on my end of the phone as my head was shocked with the double-take of absorbing that menu. <br />
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What-the-what?!?!<br />
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I have never craved man-food more than hearing those words on a Superbowl Sunday. Where are the buffalo wings? The pizza? The nachos? All those amazing foods that will leave that beautiful orange grease* on my plate? (*a sure sign that it is man-food approved)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqJAlYQd2EwY5Xy3V_YDuEWXqnSeXufVhBwh2dwF882OAlEq-mRb3ctPKTHtYY0URkoCE5WhoBTtXfYpR9GFcwny2kwzBYvasZlaeciPXyeIDJAZ9XjYItjmJ6fG9hxErHT8FVghqyUWs/s1600/Man+Food+Meatball+Sub.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqJAlYQd2EwY5Xy3V_YDuEWXqnSeXufVhBwh2dwF882OAlEq-mRb3ctPKTHtYY0URkoCE5WhoBTtXfYpR9GFcwny2kwzBYvasZlaeciPXyeIDJAZ9XjYItjmJ6fG9hxErHT8FVghqyUWs/s400/Man+Food+Meatball+Sub.jpg" width="291" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">*How is it possible that this orange grease is so alluring? Don't over-think it. It just is.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>No worries. I'll bring my own dinner.<br />
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I stop at <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#%21/pages/BKLYN-LARDER/115860655123816">BKLYN Larder</a> and get myself a meatball and provolone sandwich (one of my favorite's from their artisan sandwich menu) and a side of macaroni + cheese. The shop is already getting cleaned up for the night, but their guys (and it was all the guys working Superbowl Sunday there - another odd conundrum) stopped everything to get me properly set up to celebrate as I was now referring to it - "National Man-Food Day." They even gave me a large serving of chili topped with melting cheese and red onion in appreciation of my newly discovered man-food reverence.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqLs_F0B_p9noBbZeyWyw-nJVd9WlKfhxhSH2QgbWkqLY8KBxU1jMpWtHhW4jvQY5Aozk-kBkXMhv8w3wIfpQKY0xDGG4tVe2wwI12BWNZN34NjgZqSt4nDLym5l46ntpFdircZgzjO4G/s1600/Man+Food-70-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyqLs_F0B_p9noBbZeyWyw-nJVd9WlKfhxhSH2QgbWkqLY8KBxU1jMpWtHhW4jvQY5Aozk-kBkXMhv8w3wIfpQKY0xDGG4tVe2wwI12BWNZN34NjgZqSt4nDLym5l46ntpFdircZgzjO4G/s400/Man+Food-70-7.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
As I wait for the subway the bag of food is warm and the wafts of savory temptations making me excited to be celebrating properly. Even with all this it was still hard, walking past the pizza shops on my way to their apartment, to not stop and buy wings to top off my extravaganza, but let's be honest - for all of my man-food esteem - I'm still just a girl and probably won't even make it through to the chili.<br />
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For some people the Superbowl is actually about the football game. I can't really imagine that. For me it's the dude's version of Thanksgiving. It's an excuse to celebrate all the coziness of the rib-sticking foods we have a hard time allowing ourselves to love all year as much as we actually want to. It's a time to get together with friends and eat, drink and be merry. It has all the makings of a national holiday - including actually being celebrated by most the nation.<br />
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So for however gratifying it is to see the guys in your life eye your plate of steaming hot man-food while they eat baked fish - there's nothing quite like sharing the love. To my guys - next year I promise I'll host a full party.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMtLigthNH0Kt-2gZkoawlxrr3se60Asg60Z28dOcMkmtxUjLrOOpzDuDwnoUszIl6-YxoLHS8Fod3kLhbfWH6_r8BZALSzj_QKRmgutMkYY-Rz5ogoWPPbH6vbXJAiia-SasxBkRpsb0/s1600/Man+Food-62-6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQMtLigthNH0Kt-2gZkoawlxrr3se60Asg60Z28dOcMkmtxUjLrOOpzDuDwnoUszIl6-YxoLHS8Fod3kLhbfWH6_r8BZALSzj_QKRmgutMkYY-Rz5ogoWPPbH6vbXJAiia-SasxBkRpsb0/s400/Man+Food-62-6.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-29716851603997355582011-02-04T07:13:00.000-08:002011-02-22T07:56:06.890-08:00Consider the Onion - a lesson in knife safetyI'm not actually someone with a lot of pet peeves. Sure ridiculously behavior and illogical arguments can annoy me (<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>not loosing my patience with my roommate as I write this...</i></span>), but most of these grievances don't actually build up on a list for me.<br />
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However, a few things do - and oh how do they! One of my biggest kitchen pet peeves is watching a friend or loved one being a danger to themselves while calling it cooking. I'm talking about the proper use of a knife.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSGZ-FRC31M-KiCYIzFqpUhjCTtqq6s7xTu7GIk2PZ5JioKZWyhGyaTStjlUIfLTYaTvS43DUjYp168kz3pZdt8sxJ4I6flxpbQLmpzT8NZmbgfWp9sGg2J31kVt0U4z94cx-9Zu2U7ZHe/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSGZ-FRC31M-KiCYIzFqpUhjCTtqq6s7xTu7GIk2PZ5JioKZWyhGyaTStjlUIfLTYaTvS43DUjYp168kz3pZdt8sxJ4I6flxpbQLmpzT8NZmbgfWp9sGg2J31kVt0U4z94cx-9Zu2U7ZHe/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-172.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Most people are scared of those big shiny sharp things hanging around in the kitchen and go for the smallest, dullest one they can find. They think it's less intimidating than the bigger knives, but their choice is actually much more dangerous.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirL2FFRbwDgQPMRAzZYBdL22UkOW9o95umXB39Wy5863yciiR9QDiqKXfkcFTKGds098cx_zzX6oACRB6zKZwcvLyld13hrOzFz2N5QWpH4Eia1cMq0cMjaJzY79I8S9l7Yh_CFC4fpVhv/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirL2FFRbwDgQPMRAzZYBdL22UkOW9o95umXB39Wy5863yciiR9QDiqKXfkcFTKGds098cx_zzX6oACRB6zKZwcvLyld13hrOzFz2N5QWpH4Eia1cMq0cMjaJzY79I8S9l7Yh_CFC4fpVhv/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-178.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Let's consider an onion. An onion has all the qualities of a perfect knife lesson.<br />
<ul><li>it's round (oh the dangerous ways people try to cut potatoes - don't get me started!)</li>
<li>it's frustrating to chop (there are only so many tears I'm willing to give any one person/place/thing)</li>
<li>it's crazy delicious and therefore needs to be chopped <b><i>all the time</i></b>. </li>
</ul>So how do you attack this beast of tears? To being with you need a plan. For cutting a round object the first thing you want to do is give yourself a flat (and therefore stable and safe) place to work from. So you cut the onion in half and <b>place the flat side down</b>. This is a good plan of attack for any chopping task.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWXw33dRsn4RF3ULaGQIlkWIzqlS3Mpl2Uud7F2DCya8VcqrY7RtpDoTroKeXH976B5hpVJmG3v_e8BviJmjH9tBrMZDxihMiOXWySz26fx2yhSDTgW9BWr80dyPbb4xTrMGtCADjQye6/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-190.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWXw33dRsn4RF3ULaGQIlkWIzqlS3Mpl2Uud7F2DCya8VcqrY7RtpDoTroKeXH976B5hpVJmG3v_e8BviJmjH9tBrMZDxihMiOXWySz26fx2yhSDTgW9BWr80dyPbb4xTrMGtCADjQye6/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-190.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Note: I haven't even bothered to peel the onion yet - I find efficiency is important when working with things that can make me cry.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><i>After</i> securing my onion in a safe position I can now go about peeling the pesky skin off.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuB3QgY0Gdp2pt7btT0RiHNwPDuhj0tm1Zv15zYwT6KIZH0bUWq9JXwXxRSd-QTpz-D-wHLSZN0AS3TIEoBUQmpkaxPGsKbl4ag9Z74lQrT94I_PdeZHdMMDE5LgYzgVqiK1SPh3uWjeQ/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpuB3QgY0Gdp2pt7btT0RiHNwPDuhj0tm1Zv15zYwT6KIZH0bUWq9JXwXxRSd-QTpz-D-wHLSZN0AS3TIEoBUQmpkaxPGsKbl4ag9Z74lQrT94I_PdeZHdMMDE5LgYzgVqiK1SPh3uWjeQ/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-192.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simply cut off one end of the onion halves.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrukyxXc-ZjCXp88YuzTeMyf3shajrg8eMCcLSRsWAeJYjldNYlKhyphenhyphenXQosMnTfk5NsYMkX4V3_MV_lIhyphenhyphenHAJiptYpJUTnoI5Ee_ta5hItM-YJZm3G80J9GlpWuPtKvRMFGEDVa5uubVYJf/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrukyxXc-ZjCXp88YuzTeMyf3shajrg8eMCcLSRsWAeJYjldNYlKhyphenhyphenXQosMnTfk5NsYMkX4V3_MV_lIhyphenhyphenHAJiptYpJUTnoI5Ee_ta5hItM-YJZm3G80J9GlpWuPtKvRMFGEDVa5uubVYJf/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-193.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now you can reach under the layers and peel easily.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2x36eOngcqH1KxCg1wvZhiI1rMaX12SyMv9VyUL9TkK_WuUkrhCEDjlJVC1fjNx51OeXfXZPKQxeCTnTS1zG9WQYxaMDHtGhNaB3naFDx0QtJZH0ItjIxlFQFq2hvkxtD53G-Urd9Oqv/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-196.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2x36eOngcqH1KxCg1wvZhiI1rMaX12SyMv9VyUL9TkK_WuUkrhCEDjlJVC1fjNx51OeXfXZPKQxeCTnTS1zG9WQYxaMDHtGhNaB3naFDx0QtJZH0ItjIxlFQFq2hvkxtD53G-Urd9Oqv/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-196.jpg" width="348" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clean as a baby's bottom after a bath.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Ok - now we have something to work with. Your onions may now be beautiful clean pearls of delicious-ness, but they will still make you cry worse than the first time you saw Titanic. So where do you go from here? Well now is a perfect time to NOT go hacking at these pearls with reckless abandon. Don't fear. Delicacy, economy and planning will get you through.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnCq8Nle7h4poibyo0iLqrocoOxMNF4LeFEb4COjEYileB9wKiryJso_p615yNq45lokkmZx81gCFfUUdf70t76cDFwyWZEgWK9ITJKk_qBIqGNwouMza6HO__3XUPptMbrbuQBdQjyCo/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTnCq8Nle7h4poibyo0iLqrocoOxMNF4LeFEb4COjEYileB9wKiryJso_p615yNq45lokkmZx81gCFfUUdf70t76cDFwyWZEgWK9ITJKk_qBIqGNwouMza6HO__3XUPptMbrbuQBdQjyCo/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-210.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Putting your knife point down first - place slices <i>down the length</i> of your onion. Don't slice through the butt of the onion - the whole thing will fall apart of you if you do. Leaving the end in tact will give you something to hold while keeping your fingers away from the blade at the end. You will need to hold onto things - make a plan for it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LQvB7LSzonzvve7LIqe9uoidwBchk7KmqVzCTEUpZrMvW1IKOuFDDV46gQnTFIA3SizJGoe_5ge-pGvKL52Vfo1q3KLX7jWhOvKDPyQnr6yd6IKSmIgiUihTzvr4oDrTXC5Jneyxmeg3/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-215.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LQvB7LSzonzvve7LIqe9uoidwBchk7KmqVzCTEUpZrMvW1IKOuFDDV46gQnTFIA3SizJGoe_5ge-pGvKL52Vfo1q3KLX7jWhOvKDPyQnr6yd6IKSmIgiUihTzvr4oDrTXC5Jneyxmeg3/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-215.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Now you can slice through your onion safely while it falls away from your blade in a beautiful little dice with minimal chopping and tears.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac6dgJqV-GGOaZJab4iKQEUrNRcZo6Yzq761qeYNhXJEXRa2O33eafGoGWFMjyR4qgoLCO0HgiYw_DNkj1lNULO15j0SJrvvcc_EJVslpzB4YZ0Mj__3-v4d6vu66IDMJnQvyqWdtqXvK/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac6dgJqV-GGOaZJab4iKQEUrNRcZo6Yzq761qeYNhXJEXRa2O33eafGoGWFMjyR4qgoLCO0HgiYw_DNkj1lNULO15j0SJrvvcc_EJVslpzB4YZ0Mj__3-v4d6vu66IDMJnQvyqWdtqXvK/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-221.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So beautiful. Just a pile of potential waiting to hit the pan...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>It can be so easy - but let's not forget to use a knife that's the proper size for what we're cutting. It should be large enough to cut through your onion half with the tip touching down first and cutting through the whole thing without needing to lift the tip. Anything smaller and you might as well be whittling your vegetables.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div> <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMPTbiEnpJ_tXlO71lHtifx1NkDD8Khc-Feb2A0GS13XIypps0q7fg3Muzzcb2w12gXwXxq-uupdqqnw87BLkCFT2R3tZTjLQJJA1ZkoCjwYY9PvspYpe-KxYn8c8K8xr7dRhlS3zKrTZ/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMPTbiEnpJ_tXlO71lHtifx1NkDD8Khc-Feb2A0GS13XIypps0q7fg3Muzzcb2w12gXwXxq-uupdqqnw87BLkCFT2R3tZTjLQJJA1ZkoCjwYY9PvspYpe-KxYn8c8K8xr7dRhlS3zKrTZ/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-228.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My favorite all-around knife is a <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00005MEGX?ie=UTF8&tag=wwwsetstillph-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B00005MEGX">7-Inch Santoku Knife</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=wwwsetstillph-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B00005MEGX" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important;" width="1" /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>And most importantly - you need to always, always, always use a sharp knife. When you use a dull blade you have to apply more pressure and are more likely to maim yourself. Get used to using a sharp knife and slicing and dicing just your vegetables will be so much easier than you feared.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzlRiZFeUbsiAjCqkmR6ghx-BZcuTrV95VFG3TZ57M6rQzD3O0HsJgIYl1Chpz-Pma3exFwYxs2W1YPqcVumx1JKj9EgnRVxjYF-xp2aTNTcLFo_6prfY1PqG4pLTtGaWiCRziHFJu5c2/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-165.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGzlRiZFeUbsiAjCqkmR6ghx-BZcuTrV95VFG3TZ57M6rQzD3O0HsJgIYl1Chpz-Pma3exFwYxs2W1YPqcVumx1JKj9EgnRVxjYF-xp2aTNTcLFo_6prfY1PqG4pLTtGaWiCRziHFJu5c2/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-165.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someday I dream of these all being <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001TOCY3M?ie=UTF8&tag=wwwsetstillph-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B001TOCY3M">Wusthof Classic Ikon</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=wwwsetstillph-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B001TOCY3M" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important;" width="1" /> *sign*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-68847683569012888412011-02-02T09:46:00.000-08:002011-02-02T10:46:04.892-08:00Lies, Lies, Lies... and a little guacamoleSo the other day when I posted that I was okay with getting snowed in every week this winter ...I maybe, possibly, accidentally lied to you. I was really trying to be positive and give out a good energy - I was even lying to myself. Truth is - I didn't even want to get out of bed this morning looking out the window.<br />
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I grew up in California and I'm convinced I need 10xs more vitamin D than your average east-coaster. Where is the sunshine? People are talking about an early spring - I prefer skipping straight to summer. I want to go running in the park.<br />
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So though it is only breakfast time - there was only one thought that actually got me out of bed this morning. Sunshine in a meal. I wanted some fresh cilantro. When I promised myself that if I could crawl out of bed I would run across the street and get some cilantro it almost felt like promising myself a tropical vacation.<br />
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But they didn't have cilantro across the street! I grabbed some questionably soft avocados and a jalapeno and headed back out into the wild of wide slush rivers that I used to call sidewalks. Second grocery store - another questionable success.<br />
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You know when you pick up cilantro and smell it to double-check that you didn't pick up parsley instead? Cilantro should smell every bit of that promise of sunshine. If it doesn't smell don't buy it. Period. I almost had to face that tragedy (seriously today I was desperate enough to go for grocery store #3), but found one with a whiff of flavor and went for it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kpAhCBPLGxTssZafkremzM2135KYybL43tO2g2YAeN4c_uK16-1WGuqsJQNs707vg587h2XwgwS3n3USLqP7Qf4ORBad3H9Y6TtaYQzpWHeZPr4iWd7jPTpYtoQnaYxti-yAr8ES7C-q/s1600/Guacamole+Salad-9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2kpAhCBPLGxTssZafkremzM2135KYybL43tO2g2YAeN4c_uK16-1WGuqsJQNs707vg587h2XwgwS3n3USLqP7Qf4ORBad3H9Y6TtaYQzpWHeZPr4iWd7jPTpYtoQnaYxti-yAr8ES7C-q/s400/Guacamole+Salad-9.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When your cilantro (or any ingredient for that matter) is questionable in strength - use a ton of it! Make up for in volume what you are missing in power.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
I was excited, however, to find a few other summer-time treats in my produce isle. I got some red bell pepper and lime. If cilantro is the sunshine in this bowl then lime is the hammock under the palm tree to go with it. :)<br />
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I was also excited to find some fresh corn (not an ingredient in my traditional guacamole recipe) - so sweet! Perfect addition to help me lie to myself that it's actually summer for a moment. However, it is also pushing me to the edge of how much one can fit into a guacamole. I finally realized I was going grocery shopping crazy (happens to me a lot - but especially when I have a craving of some kind). I put the breaks on the operation and made a bee-line towards checkout. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyuc6_-VTf6cjtWoay8g2CF0y44LDrVbZUdRnDl1qI62iW0LU69hf8wXwIbVnqXc1qy0NPoYcArb2-BzZ92AJfl7z0zCW8Bjl6WHH0Y7iX9oFeUNkpg1zZrZ3_bCI00y2n-C2uw3SyLAR/s1600/Guacamole+Salad-13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyuc6_-VTf6cjtWoay8g2CF0y44LDrVbZUdRnDl1qI62iW0LU69hf8wXwIbVnqXc1qy0NPoYcArb2-BzZ92AJfl7z0zCW8Bjl6WHH0Y7iX9oFeUNkpg1zZrZ3_bCI00y2n-C2uw3SyLAR/s400/Guacamole+Salad-13.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How much stuff can you add before you don't have enough avocado to hold it together? And does that really matter?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIPDXG4KRzrXn1Guhh999UwECKQlBmJxgpvB3TEl6CV156JWexRmvZwGRQAJqVHevnTc3aBwA2Ana3w3PbxbpeB2swcjPnAZ-SwoC3Nn7x_fs1ucffkIIoFWIM9AyppQR-ZhVDbxLKMW_/s1600/Guacamole+Salad-14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcIPDXG4KRzrXn1Guhh999UwECKQlBmJxgpvB3TEl6CV156JWexRmvZwGRQAJqVHevnTc3aBwA2Ana3w3PbxbpeB2swcjPnAZ-SwoC3Nn7x_fs1ucffkIIoFWIM9AyppQR-ZhVDbxLKMW_/s400/Guacamole+Salad-14.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't forget salt! Your avocado will never forgive you for depriving it of it's soul mate.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
With the corn, the <i>entire</i> bunch of cilantro, a whole bell pepper, jalapeno, red onion, lime juice and some tomato to a ratio of only two avocados - I definitely turned this into some more closely resembling a guacamole salad. A salad you can still eat with chips, but a salad none-the-less. When you're craving sunshine in February I seriously don't think that this could <i>possibly</i> be more satisfying.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1-HWBC72qmYusvp_7302SNaJCdAxstK8oMKkeFi76t24GEB2DXQSPmKGC5WdDgRVwToIFgGTnW-48sm10SovtLtWkqd2KJn_8M9nKB_SGpFwi7MhkfDRKUuBw3lM4ghkSrfuWQ4WL_4P/s1600/Guacamole+Salad-19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI1-HWBC72qmYusvp_7302SNaJCdAxstK8oMKkeFi76t24GEB2DXQSPmKGC5WdDgRVwToIFgGTnW-48sm10SovtLtWkqd2KJn_8M9nKB_SGpFwi7MhkfDRKUuBw3lM4ghkSrfuWQ4WL_4P/s400/Guacamole+Salad-19.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast of Champions!! :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-73807470664590954022011-02-01T17:38:00.000-08:002011-02-01T20:40:47.775-08:00Stormy Comforts - squash & mushroom risotto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLejgFWWYyni4YRemiBln8wOW5fW0JftnB2pfrZ4n37jYBUWRKkCyw1Z6hBCPE_J0czRK6r33L6qnC3vcvEikUFaDFrtntooOxGiJgdFlRRVfrQwxK9KF5lnQqqyWr-v5YyVJjxMe1CDke/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="156" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLejgFWWYyni4YRemiBln8wOW5fW0JftnB2pfrZ4n37jYBUWRKkCyw1Z6hBCPE_J0czRK6r33L6qnC3vcvEikUFaDFrtntooOxGiJgdFlRRVfrQwxK9KF5lnQqqyWr-v5YyVJjxMe1CDke/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-64.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We're in for another snow storm. It seems like we're getting snowed in once a week so far this year. I don't really mind - I've needed some good time by myself at home these days. I've been going through too long a season of transitions. I needed some space to get myself grounded again. For me that space is always standing in front of the stove. When I'm cooking I'm finally somewhere where I can think clearly, get rebalanced, and really feel like I'm doing something just for myself. When I really need some quiet time I turn to risotto.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LD6A1VQkSS5mx0bayBNo37jYjP7Po7QdrgfAuxGTZCDCAx_tuq39ciIdj79daKkWb5Hv6ume6ryXRYIZQVoTnhZUMaWM_InKchWTpkkBq9Ov5JRGaR4sN0UxA_5UliM5NPCjP8zWvbAI/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LD6A1VQkSS5mx0bayBNo37jYjP7Po7QdrgfAuxGTZCDCAx_tuq39ciIdj79daKkWb5Hv6ume6ryXRYIZQVoTnhZUMaWM_InKchWTpkkBq9Ov5JRGaR4sN0UxA_5UliM5NPCjP8zWvbAI/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-51.jpg" width="305" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Risotto is a beautifully simple dish with one of my favorite qualities in a food - lots of flexibility. I'm always trying new ways of making things. Tweaking recipes forever. It's not always a success, but it's always inspiring. This time I'm adding squash to my normal mushroom risotto. I was thinking about making a soup when I bought the squash but today is a risotto kind of day.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The bright orange dices looked so pretty on my cutting board that I ran my hands through the little pieces. I reach in and breathe in a handful. My squash smells like carving a pumpkin as a kid. When the gourd is still huge, bigger than your whole head, looming over you on the table making your eyes widen at the monumental task ahead. When your whole arm fits inside as you get to scoop out the slime and seeds. It's the first time you are allowed to use a knife on your own. It's your first moment of a food being an adventure. It smells clean and sweet like dew on grass. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhorBol0gawOwaqKrpOYW7F0x-jTc8EhqArRbNpFUbwCP4qEemYxuqllLV6Ysq5yy66dmJk2gNX698aPrcc1dwxxIlkJEAWrEDu1oj6GvxkSGqjCVkIsXAjUCo8zU1hHFEfg1a59TPENCQy/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-133.jpg" width="400" /></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>The thing is... you have to put your whole face into a bowl of freshly sliced flesh to even get a waft of it. The fragrance disappears after only a sniff or two, like a flower who's pollen has been smelt away. It will stop you in your tracks for a moment if you catch it. I'm so glad that today was reminded to stop and notice my ingredients. I'm sorry for all the memories and stories my food had been trying to tell me that I've missed.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa8bMVtXfw3-hy9gz6ksqhTa4zWMUVcGhu7BTnrnB6kB8o357m1lO6u111Tcso1LSDTLzw23STgDVxSji9amI4NTZ5cQD7j1akW_2BHAfoJz6o9wEwwgMPSNbVq5axI3yA0YSyxgDxdEk/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-142.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa8bMVtXfw3-hy9gz6ksqhTa4zWMUVcGhu7BTnrnB6kB8o357m1lO6u111Tcso1LSDTLzw23STgDVxSji9amI4NTZ5cQD7j1akW_2BHAfoJz6o9wEwwgMPSNbVq5axI3yA0YSyxgDxdEk/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-142.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Have you ever cooked with something just because it's so pretty? I do that sometimes with mushrooms. Add pretty mushrooms just for the joy of using them. I can admit that this dish is easily overpowering for an oyster mushroom. I really should have saved them for a simple broth soup or something, but they smelled like Jacobsburg Park after the rain in the Fall and I couldn't resist them.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwcn6uIcewnIZbNoIuUmxRH5TGdbX1KBSgPXz347V3domReTalWu9AK7_kvML8msvfuxRApX4hHslSJglNsMjcan7wyx1en-951ji4_XODDIfE3Y-3k0T75w3E6AQbdWuoltM36CqfpMK/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwcn6uIcewnIZbNoIuUmxRH5TGdbX1KBSgPXz347V3domReTalWu9AK7_kvML8msvfuxRApX4hHslSJglNsMjcan7wyx1en-951ji4_XODDIfE3Y-3k0T75w3E6AQbdWuoltM36CqfpMK/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-158.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Though they don't have much aroma to speak of - for flavor I think baby portabella mushrooms are just perfect for winter cooking. Sauteed with thyme and butter they are the perfect hearty nuggets to fold into your risotto.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbu1G6a8eX42OkM73VBsk09f2FWjXL7iG5HVaNWBDZ8NqbTppHFPQr_5-qSQQjKQMVBaFNwMm3cmgEpGdJSNYkn9gZ6bEc5DIruCVzx1b3H_XXHDk4neayIemkdbvMap_2u2ChP4bLJVO/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYbu1G6a8eX42OkM73VBsk09f2FWjXL7iG5HVaNWBDZ8NqbTppHFPQr_5-qSQQjKQMVBaFNwMm3cmgEpGdJSNYkn9gZ6bEc5DIruCVzx1b3H_XXHDk4neayIemkdbvMap_2u2ChP4bLJVO/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-163.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG_XkyYIob8dzVuTgI2ye3egySU3i6HcUFkWVdiyQjufSUvKNpLh8tXOZpkZrm2xxBHc8jUCUcKJM8spk3ZB6e_s2WFpQ1fd0JeSN2vznjo0KCqwO_nsUn1bUclYjL2PXK3T1mgAJYSes/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheG_XkyYIob8dzVuTgI2ye3egySU3i6HcUFkWVdiyQjufSUvKNpLh8tXOZpkZrm2xxBHc8jUCUcKJM8spk3ZB6e_s2WFpQ1fd0JeSN2vznjo0KCqwO_nsUn1bUclYjL2PXK3T1mgAJYSes/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-178.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Risotto is one of my go to dishes. Even if it does need to be stirred constantly for 30-40 minutes it's simple and creamy and therapeutic to make. There are many debates on how to make risotto (as any honorable dish with such a long tradition should have), but I'm sure I'll be writing about it again soon, so that can wait for another time. For now - the mushrooms and thyme are always a success. The squash? Well I think I'm going to try roasting it next time for more flavor and I need to caramelize the onions further too. But just because an experiment isn't a full-blown success doesn't mean it's not an experience still worth writing about. I promise when I get it just right I'll give you a recipe.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGF_sJeHj0x2igI8J6NQqPEO2kKnrt-MNVKYvpNNsWMoi01_yEmcYtQbOaZC9qu9izeyXImXmDS6B4d85Xue08NSZkQKyi_3B1d4ZhuHn8_JCbxbEB7fsWJCXC2_H-ng9NrH8l1s7zOtg/s1600/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGF_sJeHj0x2igI8J6NQqPEO2kKnrt-MNVKYvpNNsWMoi01_yEmcYtQbOaZC9qu9izeyXImXmDS6B4d85Xue08NSZkQKyi_3B1d4ZhuHn8_JCbxbEB7fsWJCXC2_H-ng9NrH8l1s7zOtg/s400/Squash+Mushroom+Risotto-262.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-28469176603179850932011-01-27T14:25:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:08:00.983-08:00Kuba Kuba<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It has all the textures of a true dive spot. The small local restaurant that people will regular no matter what. It's the food they come for. The food, the atmosphere, and the waitress that will remember your name.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The owner is a Cuban man with a wild mane of curling black hair and an equally unruly beard. He's put pictures of his family in Cuba in the 1950s all over every wall. He's even had a mural of his family painted on the wall above the bathroom doors. His parent's on their wedding day, himself at the age of seven with thick rimmed glasses and a chubby smile, and his sister at carnival.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">They've made covers for each of the ceiling lights out of coffee cans. Cut to look like dresses, Barbie legs hanging out of them - Bustelo brand coffee. None of the chairs match and almost all of the tables are made for two. My table - the one I always hope to get - has been painted with a rooster on top and the label "Pelea de Gallo." The thick varnish has chips and dents in it, and you can still see the pencil marks sketching out the bird before painting it.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I come for the Cuban sandwich. Pulled pork, pickles, ham and Swiss grilled into Cuban bread. The fried plantains are a must, and they'll always sprinkle dices of tomato, yellow peppers and red onion on everything no matter what you order. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I know when I walk in the door already what I want. My list of regulars is short. The Cuban sandwich, huevos rancheros, the avocado salad or black bean soup with an extra piece of corn bread. Then there's always a fresh squeezed lemonade and a piece of tres leche cake for dessert. I don't even need a menu - I know what else is on there too. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I come to write. This is a place where writing comes easily to me. This is a place where I can think clearly. It always relaxes me to eat here. I almost always come by myself now. I just sit and watch people, eat and write. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Behind me the wall is filled with shelves filled with Cuban canned goods, coffees, and candles of the saints. It always looks like an old grocery store, fully stocked and dusted, but not touched in 25 years. If you get a candle for the guardian angel it will have a painting of a blond angel watching a small Hansel & Gretel pair crossing a bridge while a shining cross hangs in the sky over them.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is the prayer from that candle:</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Spirit protector who gives constant protection to me, my loved ones, and my friends, who helps me give guidance to those who assist me with answers to my life's problems and gives comfort to my soul. Reveal to me what I must do tomorrow and give me strength and courage to my afflicted spirit. Make my problems disappear and restore my faith. (concentrate on your desires.)</span></i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Amen.</i></span></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-81063357339154690282011-01-26T15:36:00.000-08:002011-02-23T09:32:46.266-08:00The (almost) Secret Recipe of the (almost) Famous Ginger Snaps<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Have you ever noticed if someone calls their dish "famous" it is inevitably a secret recipe? I don't know why this is so true but it's an easily observable phenomenon. If it were to preserve the marketability of a recipe brand that would be one thing, but typically no one has actually heard of this "famous" dish - nor is anyone trying to market it. This is the case with my mother's ginger snaps.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzxoLSLcg5h5DQyvVYHKHBRyugyKOwHJeuFPC7arLImdT13L5ShGeiQxz5qpbcb0L97sWoySFrn_Ic_-l2fUn0CrN8n-o8lck0888vDjMWY34a8jhwD35IHnHdnn0QpGxK-DjUMZzqhMv/s1600/Ginger+Snaps-0061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNzxoLSLcg5h5DQyvVYHKHBRyugyKOwHJeuFPC7arLImdT13L5ShGeiQxz5qpbcb0L97sWoySFrn_Ic_-l2fUn0CrN8n-o8lck0888vDjMWY34a8jhwD35IHnHdnn0QpGxK-DjUMZzqhMv/s400/Ginger+Snaps-0061.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A holiday tradition in my family that is possibly a more important part of Christmas than gifts. These cookies deserve to be famous. They are not. Not really anyway.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We eat so many of them that my mom's only willing to make them a few times a year (and always only between November and January).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVn-RIH__nvF_uhdfygja8psM957RMe6AmvoRTMNUcmnL-1P1h9Y1VZLxq8uaihGAIv4Dl01oqb0Z_a6UtpXXNGGRSQswMQoQcPVzMZY_thYwr-PqVpMvxu-gg3Ev31ZhB_a2mtIiYj8I/s1600/Ginger+Snaps-0017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGVn-RIH__nvF_uhdfygja8psM957RMe6AmvoRTMNUcmnL-1P1h9Y1VZLxq8uaihGAIv4Dl01oqb0Z_a6UtpXXNGGRSQswMQoQcPVzMZY_thYwr-PqVpMvxu-gg3Ev31ZhB_a2mtIiYj8I/s400/Ginger+Snaps-0017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mother got the recipe while in college. She was in a sorority (hoped for a long time I would follow that path too - crazy.) and the house "mom" made them regularly. When my mother loves something it is no small love. Her basic recipe is a double batch, and we typically double that every time, so it's a load of work to keep our house supplied. Now that we all live out on our own it's 5xs more work to keep all of our houses full for the season. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8SKjGYAfZO5pIoGxpoaOpeW52Lo_DX4UgSVqZa8wW_PLb_4PjZKTsMXnplx0zvG1HIwFuJ6SKetSYKnK_w8sR_ERnRw83uc_bpi6zLwJgbFNBWBGO5CtEvq8JxCVXKjw2DJ7Nc4bfhIf/s1600/Ginger+Snaps-0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ8SKjGYAfZO5pIoGxpoaOpeW52Lo_DX4UgSVqZa8wW_PLb_4PjZKTsMXnplx0zvG1HIwFuJ6SKetSYKnK_w8sR_ERnRw83uc_bpi6zLwJgbFNBWBGO5CtEvq8JxCVXKjw2DJ7Nc4bfhIf/s400/Ginger+Snaps-0014.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">These cookies are sooo worth it.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><u>Mama's Ginger Snaps</u></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">11/4 cup margarine (softened)</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">21/2 cups sugar ….. PLUS 1 cup to roll the dough balls in.</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">2 eggs</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">½ cup molasses</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">4 cups flour</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">2 teaspoons baking soda</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">2 teaspoons cinnamon</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">2 teaspoons ground ginger</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">1 teaspoon ground cloves</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Beat the butter, sugar, eggs and molasses in a large mixing bowl until smooth. In a second mixing bowl mix your baking soda and spices with your flour </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">(I am very heavy handed with the spices).</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Add the flour to wet ingredients slowly, about a cup at a time. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Roll into balls about ¾” in diameter. Roll the dough balls in the reserved sugar. Place well spaced on the cookie sheet, as they spread. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">BAKE at 375</span></b><b><span style="font-family: Symbol;">°</span></b><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"></span></b></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Bake until done (about 8 minutes). That is up to you, my mom likes hers almost burnt ("extra crunchy" as she calls it).</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";">Let them cool very slightly before removing from pan, but not too much or they don’t come off. </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Unicode MS";"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mHnXLTDTM6v2sUoeCVRGrIaRy-9U8rE6OBbc5pgy7UqOQEahRhWt4n1eZ0Xtp5IDgfMyEyVHbkrhm6gJ_y5fIMZXxbqWZ2aAVVAyuY6QhCAaYg5XNwzBX6ws-t6O7vaqdyCkcTD4Xz1O/s1600/Ginger+Snaps-0071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6mHnXLTDTM6v2sUoeCVRGrIaRy-9U8rE6OBbc5pgy7UqOQEahRhWt4n1eZ0Xtp5IDgfMyEyVHbkrhm6gJ_y5fIMZXxbqWZ2aAVVAyuY6QhCAaYg5XNwzBX6ws-t6O7vaqdyCkcTD4Xz1O/s400/Ginger+Snaps-0071.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-82189706126645424982010-09-13T17:38:00.000-07:002011-02-01T16:04:46.374-08:00Calamari: it should be served with tentacles.<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Our family was too big to fit around the kitchen table, so we ate every meal at a picnic table outside (thank god for the California weather). My mother fed us fearlessly - there was no tip-toeing around vegetables or picky eaters in our household. With five children it wasn't the most expensive fares, but <i>no one</i> was allowed to leave the table until <i>everyone </i>was done so there was more than enough peer pressure to keep us from being fussy eaters. So she had room to play. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A favorite dinner was probably calamari. Before it was widely fashionable you could buy just the tentacles of the calamari for less than the price of chicken. My mom would fry it up in large batches and bring it outside hot and crispy to her waiting brood. My brother David would pretend he was being attacked by the octopus creatures as he scarfed them down. I remember after moving to the east coast being served calamari for the first time in a restaurant. I was sure that it was processed food, as I'd never seen calamari in golden rings with nary a tentacle in sight. There was something terribly wrong about it.<br />
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I soon forgave the east coast for it's lack of tentacles and ate calamari whenever I got the chance. After all, it was one of the only fried foods I grew up getting to eat. My calamari life was changed forever while I was in college in Richmond, VA. I grew to love a restaurant called Bacchus, and it was there that I had my first sauteed calamari.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SIkdCcgbig5KOjH0vQTihCpmRVE86n-nhr8q3YL4nVDYz_zR9Nf1lF5FRzwmAzDGRK4mo5fGPkwvMw7mjMr-yLMWbm-4GhCbA07iQYGCJPTaz4ysVbC_QgmRv4gI1H37a3KI4Dz5R47Y/s1600/Pepperoncino-0594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4SIkdCcgbig5KOjH0vQTihCpmRVE86n-nhr8q3YL4nVDYz_zR9Nf1lF5FRzwmAzDGRK4mo5fGPkwvMw7mjMr-yLMWbm-4GhCbA07iQYGCJPTaz4ysVbC_QgmRv4gI1H37a3KI4Dz5R47Y/s400/Pepperoncino-0594.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
Their recipe was simple, but I guessed it completely wrong the first few times I tried to recreate it. They were willing to just tell me the whole time too.<br />
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Hot olive oil<br />
Red pepper flakes<br />
Garlic<br />
Capers* <br />
Calamari splashed with white wine as it hits the hot oil.<br />
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With the beautiful soup of a mixture at the bottom of your bowl I realized it was far better to serve calamari with hot bread (for sopping) rather than coating it in bread for a dipping sauce. I have since discovered many beautiful variations of sauteed calamari - with tomatoes, with olives, with lemon and herbs... each of them wildly surpassing it's fried relations. But however it ends up being served, one thing remains true, calamari is always better with a large portion of tentacles in it - otherwise how are you supposed to feel like a kid again when you eat the octopus-like creatures?<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFnzQxq1Wa_8f2eV1t5v3TC2wlqgMqAFJgnQRp4mbypGEcQoCowyK7RA9Ycl2-zL1TCRG3vvuRIPfK3bLhHa1fi5_AJ5SDTwF_SfwOyXU5RU_3pJuRSDl6NERbw_KVUudpUazNel1vzyk/s1600/Pepperoncino-0502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeFnzQxq1Wa_8f2eV1t5v3TC2wlqgMqAFJgnQRp4mbypGEcQoCowyK7RA9Ycl2-zL1TCRG3vvuRIPfK3bLhHa1fi5_AJ5SDTwF_SfwOyXU5RU_3pJuRSDl6NERbw_KVUudpUazNel1vzyk/s400/Pepperoncino-0502.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Calamari with tomatoes and black olives</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">from Pepperoncino in Park Slope Brooklyn</span></div><br />
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*This might just be the start of my love affair with capers as well.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-16678272953772193332010-03-24T16:06:00.000-07:002010-03-24T16:07:42.338-07:00Nourishing<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am exhausted. I am drained. This past year has been a hard one for a lot of people - the economy has been in the dumps, jobs have been lost, raises have disappeared. My story is not more special than anyone else's, but I have found myself starting a new chapter. I left my life behind and ran off to New York to begin again. By the time I arrive here I feel brittle, like my bones have been drained of marrow.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My new apartment is beautiful and I hoped to be inspired to continue my potluck grocery night parties and cook for my new roommates in our open kitchen. For the first time in my adult life I have a dining room. I have used it once. I could be inspired. I should be inspired. I feel lonely and almost never hungry. I have orange juice for dinner most nights after coming home from working at a restaurant. A swig straight from the carton.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have never liked to cook for just myself. I do not feel inspired to cook now - but food is still my inspiration. When I taste something sharp and vinegary it's like a magic potion. I feel alive again - even if it's only on my tongue. I cling to that part of me that feels life, and have fallen in love with the hot pickled vegetables that <a href="http://www.bklynlarder.com/">Brklyn Larder</a> puts on their salami and provolone sandwich.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So I have decided to spend this year nourishing myself, quite literally, back to a spiritual balance. I am going to feed myself healthy again. So I am spending an exorbitant amount every day on my sandwiches (convincing myself that I can afford it because it is my only real meal each day), and investing in that which makes me feel alive. I am going to write about what I find that is inspiring enough to my palate to bring be back to life.</div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-2968877905638949122010-01-06T14:18:00.000-08:002011-01-28T11:32:23.144-08:00The Beginnings<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If my life were a book, the chapters would all be named after all of the phase I went through of cooking one ingredient obsessively. This blog is named for my perhaps most famous (or infamous) long lasting phase of using balsamic vinegar in just about every meal. It is still one of my favorite flavors in this world. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div>My sister is the kind of person who was born knowing exactly who she is. When she was three she wanted to be a fashion designer. What does she do now? She's a fashion designer. In this area I may be the polar opposite of my sister. I spent most of my life with a big fat question mark hanging over my head like a dagger. I tried several careers - each of which has made me mostly happy, but never enough to satisfy me for long once the learning curve was over. At one point, during my freshman year of college, I was a triple major. The only thing you can really say about someone who is an organic chemistry / philosophy / art triple-major is that they clearly don't know anything about what they want to do with their life.<br />
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The one thing that has always made me happy is cooking. Oddly even eating hasn't consistently done it for me, but cooking (ravaging kitchen experiments is almost more accurate)... cooking has always been my comfort zone. I take the world one piece at a time and explore it to it's limits. My pork phase lasted at least two years, until it was cut off abruptly by my older brother's remarks about whether I had the ability to cook anything else (I immediately went into a 9 month salmon phase - but that's another story). This pattern I have continued and I see no stop to it in sight. I am never satisfied to make something once. I need to make it better the next time. Since my friends and family can only handle but so much of my indulgences - here I am. Trying to share them with you. I hope they inspire you to try something new.</div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-61969978342621610462009-11-28T12:04:00.000-08:002011-01-28T12:05:49.629-08:00beer:30<div class="p_other pic_padding" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">it's called beer:30 "because it's always time for beer" and it's in hideous purple cans.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">"Smells like freshman year. Cooked corn and cereal grains. Reminds me of sexual interaction with questionable looking girls, projectile vomit, and passing out, only to wake up with penises drawn all over any exposed skin. It's the typical light lager smell."</span></i></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pv-rudrnfFFavuZlXyAcSDLCPCOJpuHcPqp22CJ-rM07G7LJ_qkvIsTH4qiditR20uZjRIdH-TBUfBweZ0NARLqxjru8GC1TuKmi80EY3QRb5IrVckPRq1NTi_cp5zfaoyi0sTbrvBa9/s1600/Beer+30.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9pv-rudrnfFFavuZlXyAcSDLCPCOJpuHcPqp22CJ-rM07G7LJ_qkvIsTH4qiditR20uZjRIdH-TBUfBweZ0NARLqxjru8GC1TuKmi80EY3QRb5IrVckPRq1NTi_cp5zfaoyi0sTbrvBa9/s320/Beer+30.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="p_other pic_padding" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>J:</b> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">i love reading beer reviews written like wine reviews</span></div><div class="p_other pic_padding" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">it's not that i don't get it, because i do. it still strikes me as silly though. maybe not silly. frivolous. </span></div><h5 class="self" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="time_stamp ts_self" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;"></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><b>Me:</b> </span></span></h5><h5 class="self" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">it makes perfect sense to me to write about them the same way</span><span style="font-weight: normal;"> <br />
but I don't really drink beer</span></span></h5><h5 class="other" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="time_stamp ts_other" style="font-size: small;">J: </span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></h5><h5 class="other" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">oh, no, i mean from a technical standpoint they are very similar</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
and all the effort that goes into them warrants attention</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
it's a tough craft</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
but at the same time, i wonder if people would really enjoy a beer less if they didn't know its relative gravity</span><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
it's like people that get way too into fantasy sports teams and tracking stats and forget to watch the game for what it is</span></h5><h5 class="self" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span class="time_stamp ts_self" style="font-size: small;"><b>Me:</b> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></h5><h5 class="self" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">that's a very poignant point</span></h5><h5 class="other" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><b><span class="time_stamp ts_other" style="font-size: small;">J:</span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></h5><h5 class="other" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: small;">but i suppose than other people revel in the little details more than i do. parts versus whole</span><span style="font-size: small;"> <br />
it reminds me of a book written about brown bag wine trials. they took hundreds of wines from a full spectrum of price ranges, hid the labels, and had truly blind reviews. and it was hysterical what placed higher</span></h5><h5 class="self" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="time_stamp ts_self" style="font-size: small;">M</span><span style="font-size: small;">e:</span></h5><div class="p_self pic_padding" id="msg_25506495_3723525256" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">my favorite wine is $8</span></div><div class="p_other pic_padding" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />
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</span></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-14529251852556545222009-11-22T18:39:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:05:21.836-08:00Potluck Grocery Night<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The way Molly Wizenberg wrote about mayonnaise in Bon Appetit was mesmerizing. So mesmerizing in fact that I went out and got her book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1416551050?ie=UTF8&tag=wwwsetstillph-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1416551050">A Homemade Life</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=wwwsetstillph-20&l=as2&o=1&a=1416551050" style="border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important;" width="1" />, for some good subway reading. Her book may be as delightful as her articles, but I was left with one major life annoyance trying to relate to her life. Over the course of her book she cooks through several stints through Paris with chums, discusses friends bringing over adventurous new dishes and has a bi-coastal romance inspired by food. In short - she seems to have spent her life as nearly a member of a foodie gang.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_panbSjv3oDh49NGoFHQYQvdRxPZL9qA_RY9q8UOeuXP0CGgVBJj7NxWsxoOk7lFjSm8_jYPG_qhI_zpVaVaalJcT1G-f_pJ1rEPcXvpaXk1hj1pYOahhaeVjO4k7KHgIvTk-SVChItQq/s1600/Homemade+Life.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_panbSjv3oDh49NGoFHQYQvdRxPZL9qA_RY9q8UOeuXP0CGgVBJj7NxWsxoOk7lFjSm8_jYPG_qhI_zpVaVaalJcT1G-f_pJ1rEPcXvpaXk1hj1pYOahhaeVjO4k7KHgIvTk-SVChItQq/s200/Homemade+Life.jpg" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am not a foodie among foodies. Quite the opposite in fact. I may be the only one of my friends who is passionate about the flavors, smells, textures and ambrosia of food. I once went through a phase where I came home from work and set a loaf of bread to rise every day before I even changed into more comfortable clothes. The roommate that lived with me through that period famously informed me that no matter what I made for her it would never taste as good as Chicken A'La King from a can. Needless to say, I never cooked for her again. Our friendship, however, remarkably remained in tact.<br />
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The most collaboration I get is the random vegetarian recipes my sister sends me from another city. Though her spinach and tortellini soup is a revelation, I would love to find people to share in my joy with me. Rather than being a small mecca for the lovers of food, my house has become a safe haven for my bachelor friends seeking home cooked meals. It's not all bad, they know having to wash the dishes is a part of the deal, but they don't exactly inspire me to start experimenting with souffles.<br />
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Really, I can't complain - because my boys helped make a great success out of my favorite dinner party: Potluck Grocery Night.<br />
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As a freelancer, I'm not always in a position to host elaborate dinner parties. Over this past winter my ability to make dinners large enough to feed the friends that habitually showed up became challenged. Being one of their only regular sources of homemade meals, however, my guys rose to the defense of their stomachs. Each of them was given a list of groceries to bring and I would do the cooking. It seemed simple enough, but I never expected the elaborate sucess that it would turn out to be.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEBNd9BIWHdtzmXj6oSyGyB_PNWCASgvfg2RlLP8eSp_MnHaGRa-EkB7twC3w_G-fbPVI-vwBXb3ffY0DMW26l8onPVZqsQ5BPyA_hi2U1Xm_4tNgAnhy_UUFV-Aj4O5vVlkBdBPRm8Bnh/s1600/Granny+McCarthys+1+%286%29.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEBNd9BIWHdtzmXj6oSyGyB_PNWCASgvfg2RlLP8eSp_MnHaGRa-EkB7twC3w_G-fbPVI-vwBXb3ffY0DMW26l8onPVZqsQ5BPyA_hi2U1Xm_4tNgAnhy_UUFV-Aj4O5vVlkBdBPRm8Bnh/s320/Granny+McCarthys+1+%286%29.JPG" /></a></div><br />
As it turns out, most of my guys would have been happy to pay for my dinner had we gone out to eat. So, as none of them actually knew how to grocery shop effectively, they ended up spending the equivalent amounts for dinner for two at the grocery store. At the time I couldn't afford more groceries until my next paycheck, but for our first Potluck Grocery Night I served lamb loins with a red wine sauce and roasted asparagus. Even as the guys were doing the dishes they were asking if I would cook for them the next day if they could show up with groceries. Talk about a win-win. It became a weekly event for our group and for the next year even larger dinner parties carried the shared burden of buying the food. Recession-proofing the dinner party saved my kitchen habit and created a new circle of friends whom I'll keep for life.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Rules to a successful Potluck Grocery Night</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>1. Assign each guest a category of food and rotate each week new responcibilities</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">For example, one person will bring the meat ($$), another the vegetables/sides ($), another the beer/wine ($$) - make sure everyone takes a turn at buying the more expensive items</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>2. Be specific with your grocery list</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">I've ended up with lime cactus beer at an Italian dinner party - don't let this happen to you</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>3. Plan meals that don't take long to cook</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">Inevitably the person with the most key ingredient will show up last and everyone will eat late - so think 30-minute meals and you're golden</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>4. Have a kitchen hang out zone</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">I generally don't let people in my kitchen while I'm cooking, but the party starts before any cooking's been done so you need to let people hang out during the process - give them a safe place out of the range of hot pans of oil</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>5. Don't get fancy</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is about family meals and celebrating the company - enjoy yourself and your friends</div><br />
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</div></div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7127513609077405968.post-2361622405955463452009-11-10T12:04:00.000-08:002011-02-01T16:06:08.705-08:00My Current Obsession: Butter (can you blame me?)<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELSob0I3BnWOhyphenhyphenY30gZY22-3EBmmuxvaG6E-zzNZVstJN1CEVBprmCrrntuiGiQdDfrYlwQZdPhqrOJxNlemSW6G2mtsMmPCr9RAlEG9MDIn_4X7LZPSiGxWnwuhMCT2MGGmKsYbPM_-n/s1600-h/Herb+Butter-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgELSob0I3BnWOhyphenhyphenY30gZY22-3EBmmuxvaG6E-zzNZVstJN1CEVBprmCrrntuiGiQdDfrYlwQZdPhqrOJxNlemSW6G2mtsMmPCr9RAlEG9MDIn_4X7LZPSiGxWnwuhMCT2MGGmKsYbPM_-n/s400/Herb+Butter-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I have become recently obsessed with making herb infused butters. I adore cooking with fresh herbs. It was probably one of my favorite things about cooking professionally (well that and my heart has been changed forever after experiencing a well-stocked walk-in fridge). If I ever find myself feeling uninspired to cook - I just pick up a couple of fresh herbs and settle happily into a tirade of ideas for what to make out of the remainders in my kitchen.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXqUc547WsseHmqQ1vBh8aK5p5HLSMtPdqSpS2iAXE32F8x1405Ql19QLUrANK2OGiZaYhMQdiAgeqSQ9YGQTAZ-4LbMXfHgQM7WBNOU3WqP_9mzgoJF6kFFTLE_VMhQcfOUNOi0etlSJ/s1600-h/Herb+Butter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjXqUc547WsseHmqQ1vBh8aK5p5HLSMtPdqSpS2iAXE32F8x1405Ql19QLUrANK2OGiZaYhMQdiAgeqSQ9YGQTAZ-4LbMXfHgQM7WBNOU3WqP_9mzgoJF6kFFTLE_VMhQcfOUNOi0etlSJ/s400/Herb+Butter.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It started out innocently enough, I had fresh rosemary, Italian parsley and thyme left over from a lamb roast adventure I had set out on. So there I was with my glass of watered herbs sitting in my fridge starting to look like they'd lost the energy to hold their heads up, and I have too many leftovers in the house to justify doing anything with these poor tired friends. This is where my journey started. I had no idea that it would lead me down a path of butter-induced swooning, but this path would soon overtake the olive oil in my cooking and bring butter back as king.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sometimes ideas are more of your brain reminding you of things you already know but have yet to really explore. After reading a side note in one of my <a href="http://www.sunset.com/">Sunset recipe annuals</a>* I had recently made a batch of citrus sugar<span style="font-size: x-small;">**</span> (it blows cinnamon out of the water as a topping for french toast). With that sitting in the back of my brain, it wasn't too far a reach to get to making an herb butter. So I pull the tiny leaves from my thyme with therapeutic meticulousness, chop it in with my rosemary and parsley, and zested in a lemon that was also waiting for the last leg of it's life to dry up.<br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6DnDazvxb01kDN47W8K7-yIvgp324KWNH8K5a1H6jZG7fg996hfRpwHhffhUt4acvjNA_azfuH302C_iJqw38-3jSAoeMzFXNGlesndkeO_tZiukx3TQMn3OWxGEZvJWrBaqSciR0SHh/s1600-h/Herb+Butter-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU6DnDazvxb01kDN47W8K7-yIvgp324KWNH8K5a1H6jZG7fg996hfRpwHhffhUt4acvjNA_azfuH302C_iJqw38-3jSAoeMzFXNGlesndkeO_tZiukx3TQMn3OWxGEZvJWrBaqSciR0SHh/s400/Herb+Butter-2.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Though I would consider my first herb butter relatively elaborate if you were setting out to make it without having a wilting cornucopia of flavorings in your kitchen, one of my favorite things about it is it's casserole-ness. I just dump whatever I have available into a pound of softened butter and store it in my freezer. I even made a butter to baste my thanksgiving turkey with already in October (orange/lemon/tarragon/sage) - I can't wait. Now I eat toast with a frightening regularity and can't leave the grocery store without a fresh baguette. Before the groceries are even put away I've torn off an end of the bread so I can smother it in my new butters.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8Gx3a-0Kl5IuedDKQ29owawK084VAVarCvw5bJDK-lntT71O0TC6gSsUIxWUUiL8vxeOH88pGcmIX-WLwVmNeu5T-US2acaV2swI-AcI3En0B5qchTj3KjJQoEA9fEd_0K4lDZl07y0M/s1600-h/Herb+Butter-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz8Gx3a-0Kl5IuedDKQ29owawK084VAVarCvw5bJDK-lntT71O0TC6gSsUIxWUUiL8vxeOH88pGcmIX-WLwVmNeu5T-US2acaV2swI-AcI3En0B5qchTj3KjJQoEA9fEd_0K4lDZl07y0M/s400/Herb+Butter-5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: x-small;">*the Sunset magazine annuals are some of the best cookbooks I've come across - 1997 is the best (for full disclosure - I was raised in California with a mother who cooked almost entirely out of Sunset cookbooks... so I'm generally as biased as your average Southern Living enthusiast)</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #666666;">**lemon and orange zested into sugar and left to cure together</span></span> </div>Anneke Schoneveldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028508957816421462noreply@blogger.com0