Balls and Walnuts
more than you ever wanted to know
Category Archives: Food
Tasty pudding
I have internal nazis. If I eat fatty food, I get cramps which keep me up half the night. If I go more than a week without exercising, my lower back tortures me. And then there’s the guilt nazi, who keeps me on the straight and narrow about everything else.
So, no, I haven’t really tried out this panna cotta recipe, but I have it on the authority of my wife and son that this stuff is GOOD. Easy to make, too — that much, I can vouch for.
Everyone loves a tart
Listening to Melody Gardot over on YouTube. What a voice! She reminds me of Cat Power, but there’s more oomph to Ms. Gardot. Yes, more oomph. Now you know why I don’t write more posts about music.
Check out the Wikipedia piece if you get a chance — she has quite a back story.
Here’s Worrisome Heart.
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For our twentieth wedding anniversary, Karen and I went to the French Laundry, the idea being we would hemorrhage $$$ and in return get stuffed with food we would likely never be able to taste elsewhere. It was an unforgettable experience, if for no other reason than the Terminal Truffle made us both flash on the same thing. Anyway, we bought Thomas Keller’s cookbook, too, took it home, and promptly forgot about it.
That was back in 2004. It has taken me this long to make anything from The French Laundry Cookbook; hey, it’s not every day you get a yen for braised stuffed pig’s head in cheesecloth, or pan-roasted breast of squab with swiss chard, sauteed duck foie gras, and oven-dried black figs.
Today, I made two of the desserts. Here’s one of them, and guess what: this recipe is easy.
Can’t write. Gotta cook.
It’s Karen’s b-day dinner. Karen, if you happen to get online in the next few hours, don’t look below the fold.
Friday Flickr Babe: Odyssey escapee edition
Steamy Cyclops, originally uploaded by rach_thegoat.
I dunno, maybe I just have a thing for Cyclopean females.
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I made La Puttanesca recipe which I listed yesterday. WOW. I used twice the recommended amount of red pepper flakes, which made it spicy enough for Karen and Jake. I would have liked it a bit spicier still. I used the full complement of garlic . . . definitely the right thing to do.
Recommended.
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From PRI The World: vote for the strangest book title of the year.
I Was Tortured By the Pygmy Love Queen is definitely for me*. I must know more! From the Amazon page, I see this one is published by Fem Fist books. Well, that sounds promising. Next, the write-up:
What evils await Captain Henry Mitchell on the island below? A U.S. Navy fighter pilot, he’s forced to abandon his Grumman after battling Japanese Zeros over the Pacific, but soon Japan is the least of his worries. Parachuting into rainforest canopy Mitchell is greeted by a lost tribe of pygmies and their insanely cruel leader, a female, a Caucasian westerner like himself who subjects him to unholy tortures both painful and erotic. How does she control the pygmies to carry out her sadistic punishments against him? What secrets are kept on this island? Secrets which she believes Mitchell has come to take from her? And how does a man deal with being tortured for answers to questions he knows nothing about? One strong man, stripped naked, bound and helpless, versus one female tyrant and her legion of little devils – who will win this battle?
What do you think — should I buy this one just so I can write a fun Smart Bitches Day post?
D.
*If I can stomach the political incorrectness of it all. But Pygmies on a South Pacific island — whaaaat? (Oh — wait — they’re lost. Gotcha.) And apparently it’s a white chick who tortures him. Is that better or worse, from a Political Correctness POV? She “controls” the Pygmies. That can’t be good.
Oh, I’m so confused.
Thirteen toppings for pasta
I’m going to put in a plug for homemade pasta. Is it a pain in the ass? No. (Pain in the hand, actually, since you have to do a bit of kneading.) Does it require special equipment? No. (But you’d have to be a bit nuts to try to do this with a rolling pin!) Does it taste better than store-bought? YES! Better even than “fresh” store-bought.
If you’re stuck with store-bought pasta, my favorite brand is De Cecco.
And now, Thirteen toppings for pasta.
Bread pudding, the photo blog
It’s been over two years since I gave you this insanely simple, insanely delicious recipe for bread pudding, and how many of you have tried the recipe? Not enough! Because if you had, you’d be writing to me, telling me about my awesomeness!
Well, my wife’s awesomeness, since she came up with the recipe.
Here it is again, updated with a few new tips, not to mention photos I took last night.
Best tiramisu
I cut the pound cake into thinner slices, and that way I was able to have six layers instead of four. Since the slices were thinner, they soaked up more of the espresso mixture. Thus, there’s a higher volume of espresso per bite of tiramisu.
I can’t eat too much of this stuff, but it makes Karen happy.
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A dead blue whale washed up on South Beach in Crescent City. Since I will forever be the kid who turns dead animals over with a stick, I had to go see. (Nope. Couldn’t find a big enough stick.) This poor bastard had to have been forty or fifty feet long. Biologists from Humboldt State University came out and carved specimens from around the flipper, or whatever you call the structure that’s homologous to an arm.
It was freshly dead, not decomposed in the least, and yet the smell was viciously strong, the kind of thing that took up residence in your sinuses and made itself known for hours after. I’m wondering how deeply into town that smell will penetrate, especially when decomposition sets in — and most especially when the warm weather returns. Will it wash away? I hope so. If it doesn’t, it could take years to disappear.
***
Today, I wrote nearly 3000 words and finished Chapter One. I think it flows pretty well. As I’ve said countless times, my number one writing rule is, “It has to entertain ME.” That way, I have an audience of one at the very least.
It’s a creepy feeling, knowing that my muse has something in mind and isn’t sharing with me, not in any conscious way. “Come on,” I want to say, “how can I start Chapter Two if I have no idea what’s going to happen after the first sentence?”
To which my muse responds, “Fuck you. You haven’t given me hardly any air for MONTHS. You expect a detailed outline?”
But I guess I’m not being entirely truthful. I know what has to happen (an alien abduction). The details, my muse keeps to herself.
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Live Blogging tonight . . . I’ll shoot for 7 PM PST, but I still have to go to the store, shop, come home, make dinner. See you soon.
D.
Comfort food for Dean
Dean has beer pancakes, but no waffles.
CNE Hot Ice Cream Waffle, originally uploaded by Squeakyrat.
The waffle of my dreams. I had never, ever imagined sandwiching vanilla ice cream with two hot-off-the-iron waffles, but the idea is compelling. Certainly beats the usual dress-up with strawberries (yucky frozen berries all soggy and nasty and dripping with strawberry blood) or bananas or name your fruit.
But a well wrought waffle needs no ice cream. Maple syrup, yes. Yes indeed. The well wrought waffle should be light, yeasty, a little salty, a little sweet. It should dissolve in your mouth with minimal mastication.
How to leaven your waffle:
A. Yeast. Great flavor, but the preparation is time-consuming, and if you’re not careful, you’ll develop the gluten, too. Tough waffles.
B. Stiffly beaten egg whites folded into the batter. This makes for a crispy, light waffle. One of the best strategies.
C. Double acting baking powder. Fast, reliable, but if you’re not careful, you’ll have bitter waffles. Also, unlike options A or B, baking powder adds no flavor to the finished product.
My favorite: combine options A and B.
I tried to find a photo of Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles, but Flickr didn’t have one. Yes, Google undoubtedly does, but I’m going to ask you to use your imagination.
A pile of waffles.
A big ol’ hunk of fried chicken.
Syrup.
Gravy.
A heart attack from this lipid-laden dish is, well, not unlike dying in the arms of your dream boff. Trouble is, the heart attack usually arrives long after the chicken and waffles have exited. Which is why you should always have some chicken and waffles frozen away. In case of heart attack, take one aspirin, call 911, thaw out the chicken and waffles in the microwave, and eat ’em up on the ambulance drive into the hospital.
D.
That lamb recipe
This is one of those instances when I’m using the blog as backup memory. Some day, I’ll buy a few chops and think, Now, what was that great thing I did to the chops last time? And I’ll search my blog for “lamb,” ignore the references to Moore’s book, and find this recipe.
Of course, if y’all like a delicious, fast, and easy lamb chop recipe, you’re welcome to it.
1. I bought three hefty lamb chops, each about 1.5 inches thick. One of these is enough for me, but your mileage may vary.
2. Sprinkle each chop with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper. Finely chop some fresh rosemary and sprinkle the chops with that, too. Drizzle some olive oil on the chops, top and bottom, and wrap them up in plastic wrap. I did this about two hours before cooking, but I doubt that is critical.
3. Prepare: more finely chopped rosemary, chopped shallots, chopped garlic. Mix with a bit of kosher salt and more black pepper. Have some orange marmalade handy — you’re going to need it.
4. Optional mango salsa: Combine chopped fresh mango, chopped shallots or Spanish onion, chopped green and red jalapenos, chopped cucumber, some lemon juice, salt, and black pepper to taste. It should be salty/sour with only a little sweetness from the mango.
5. Cook the chops just as you would a ribeye steak on a cast iron pan (see recipe number nine, here). When you have finished cooking the chops, turn them onto their narrow, fatty sides — the “edges,” essentially — and sear a minute longer on low heat. Sear each edge this way for a minute, and while doing so, add the mixture of shallots, rosemary, garlic, salt, and pepper to the pan. There will be enough grease in the pan to saute these items.
6. In that last minute of cooking, turn up the heat and add a heaping tablespoonful of orange marmalade into the pan. This will melt, boil, and caramelize rapidly, so keep a close eye on things. Stir vigorously to combine the syrup with the rosemary, garlic, and shallots. When it starts to thicken, put the chops back on their sides and toss to coat. Serve with salsa, sugar snap peas, focaccia, and a smile.
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Either it’s a quiet Sunday or something is funky with my email. And my comments. No one wants to leave comments! I’m even losing comments — is that strange, or what? Only a handful from the last few posts, but still, it’s an odd thing.
D.
Tiramisu variations
I must be feeling better. After finishing my cases today, I lifted weights for twenty minutes, stewed in the sauna for ten, went grocery shopping, came home, and spent three hours in the kitchen.
Oh so cleverly I split some of my ground beef, using some for burgers (tonight), some for meatballs (tomorrow night). Mostly, though, I made Karen another tiramisu. My plan is working: thanks to this calorie-loaded confection of mascarpone cheese, whipped cream, eggs, espresso, and pound cake*, my wife has gained three pounds. If I can get her into the low nineties, my job is done.
(Yes, I realize I’m not doing her lipid profile any favors, but cholesterol will only harm her decades from now. Falling on an unpadded butt, that could happen any time.)
What’s a patissier to do? She doesn’t like cheesecake, so tiramisu is the most fattening dessert I can make (440 calories for a typical serving; but hey, I wonder if she’d like spaghetti carbonara?) She’s finally getting a bit sick of the same old same old, so tonight I used Amaretto for the liqueur, omitted the cocoa powder and shaved chocolate, and topped it with powdered sugar, cinnamon, and shaved/toasted almonds.
She’ll tire of this version soon enough. Here’s one for crespelle (crepes) stuffed with a tiramisu/zabaglione mixture and topped with berries, but it omits the espresso. Ignoring the essential question of whether tiramisu is tiramisu without the coffee, would Karen cringe at a version lacking that necessary caffeine kick? Probably. But my main objection is storage: those crespelle are going to go stale fast. I like a tiramisu which can last several days in the refrigerator.
From that same website, here’s an attractive recipe for parties: Duomo Tiramisu. It doesn’t look any more difficult than the standard recipe, but it sure would wow the guests.
Here’s a compendium of tiramisu recipes. Most of these are tiramisu trifles, the standard recipe taken in the berry direction or the chocolate direction, but there are a few unique items, like tiramisu pizza, peach brandy tiramisu, and for the coffee-hater in your family, root beer tiramisu. Of these, the peach brandy version sounds the most interesting. They don’t omit the espresso, which leads me to wonder how well the peach and coffee flavors will meld.
One of the joys of googling: you can test your imagination. Does banana tiramisu exist? Oh, yeah. Peanut butter tiramisu? Apparently so. Tiramisu erotica? Yuppers.
By the way: Tiramisu Toffee Trifle Pie might sound good, but any recipe calling for instant coffee granules and “mascarpone or cream cheese” — or cream cheese, are you fucking kidding me? — should suffer culinary kareis**.
I think I need to sleep on it. That shall be my goal: a novel application of basic tiramisu principles, one which preserves the caffeine and calories yet takes tiramisu into an altogether new direction.
Tiramisu hand roll, anyone?
D.
*Ladyfingers are traditional. We prefer the flavor of pound cake, pound cake is readily available in the grocery stores (not so, ladyfingers), so pound cake it is.
**One of those nasty punishments from Leviticus. I think it means “premature death.”