If I had to name one food to serve the distinguished honor as the perfect bite, it’d be the dumpling. I’m pretty egalitarian in terms of the ingredients and format, but don’t get it twisted – my love runs deep and true and requires both quality and quantity as a means of scratching my itch for dumpling majesty. I’ve danced with dumpling making many a time in satisfying my cravings, and I’ve been able to get my method down pat to reduce the amount of time pleating and pinching so that I can get to the stone-cold munching party a little bit sooner. Whether I want thick-skinned jiao zi with gingery pork filling and crisped bottoms, or lacy shrimp har gow filled with bamboo shoots and sesame oil, I’m comforted by the fact that I know how to construct these babies for myself. And knowledge is power, bitches. Continue reading Throwback Tuesday: Dumplings, Potstickers and Ginger Limeade→
I don’t want to play games. I want some one-on-one time with some oeey-gooey-goodness and I want it to be up close and personal. I want to get my Digable Planets on and relish in some creamy lavishness. And what better way to do so than to get my smooch on with some darling whole wheat crepes filled with melty swiss and artichokes. But you know I like my pop of color, so why not some spinach and red peppers to make things majestic. And tender shrimp to round out this party of sheer sexiness. I feel like I’m wasting time talking when I could be noshing. And I imagine that you’re feeling the same way and want to cut to the fucking chase. Let’s get it on… Continue reading Shrimp Crepes with Spinach, Artichokes and Swiss→
I Think It’s Rad(icchio) When You Shake Your Couscous
Hi, my name is Angela and I am addicted to high drama. And not the Bravo-flavored, housewife sassin’, backstabbing kind. I’m talking about the cinematic moments where your life blurs into a movie and you get to pen the script and set the soundtrack all by yourself. So it’s no surprise that I live for instances that make my heart ache from their sheer beauty, typically created by a bit of music, an inspiring ingredient, or a splash of design. And sometimes, when I am disgustingly lucky, I’ll get all of the above in one fell swoop. My friends know that in these moments, I’ll tend to gush and grow a little manic trying to cram in my fill, but I chalk it up as a response that makes me inherently me. The moments between these fits is merely life pausing for me, only to resume when my next blissful obsession hits. Continue reading Couscous Salad with Grilled Radicchio, Grapes and Goat Cheese→
I’ve been wistful this week, thinking about my fam and the kinds of laughter that would only appear when all of us were together. The kind that makes you cry like a fool and wheeze, you can’t even get it out. Around the time that my little sister was first getting to know my then boyfriend-now husband, she laid some strict rules on him to be accepted into the family (all of this according to her alone, by the way). The most important one of the three (which I remember also included him doing a jump kick and possibly joining Facebook?) was to say something so ridiculously funny to her, she’d break out into silent laughter. It turned out this wasn’t much of a challenge given that my husband tends to be fucking hilarious the majority of the time, but I loved that my sister’s request was so telling of what was so very prized to her and to all of us in the fam. My husband completed a crew that has always (and will always) appreciate the times where we all get to do nothing but chill – I’m talking a backyard feast with plenty of grey goose, barbecue or blue crabs, farmer’s market produce gifted to my dad for playing music for the vendors, and an inordinate amount of stupid puns. Continue reading Potato Salad with Lemon Tarragon Aioli and Haricots Verts→
I think it’s apropos that this Tuesday following Mother’s Day (aka Dia des Las Madres), the recipe is one of my all time faves that my own resplendent mama taught me. She’s pretty majestic, and given that one day isn’t enough to honor her awesomeness, I’m extending the party to this Tuesday. My tartness is all earned honestly, but I can’t say that I didn’t get any encouragement growing up in a house with some of the sassiest fucking people to ever walk the earth. A sass factory if you will, and I was sentenced to work early on in the game. This original recipe was one of the early ones on Adesina’s Kitchen, and though it’s a clutch go-to every time I need a vinaigrette, the old picture did not sell this salad’s infinite awesomeness. I knew I had to go back and give it the glory that it deserved. Bibb lettuce. Check. Crispier croutons. Check. Snipped tarragon and chives. Check and motherfuckin’ check. Continue reading Throwback Tuesday: French Lemon Tarragon Vinagrette→
So two tidbits for you before we get to our Cinco de Mayo recipe celebration, both of which you may know already. First, the holiday we know as Cinco de Mayo, is kind of a made up holiday. Unless you are from the Puebla region of Mexico and really despise French occupation, your true celebration of Mexican independence actually occurs on September 16th. So yes (¡Claro que sí!), that nacho orgy that you hold yearly has no historical relevance to the 5th of May. Continue reading ¡Cinco de Mayo!→
Call me crazy, but could aioli be one of the sexiest substances of all time? Is it because Teddy Pendegrass is playing in the background that I am feel the love for humble eggs and oil coaxed into lusciousness? Because as far as I am concerned, aioli, when I look at you, it’s time for love (so baby, get ready)! Continue reading Fried Plantains and Cilantro Aioli→
Trust sure don’t come easy in life, but a little bit of trust goes a long way in the kitchen. I’m talking to you, baking, and your insistence that I trust that all will come out right if I follow the recipe to the tee. Fuck me. Apparently I wasn’t cut out for the culinary arts that required a heavy dose of faith and very little help in the way of course correction. Once that cake goes in the oven, you are done and there is no going back. Continue reading Masitas de Puerco→
I admit that my cravings tend to be ADD. How is it that in the span of five minutes, I can go from wanting potstickers (the fat ones with the blubbery wrappers) to a hot dog (from Gray’s Papaya with plenty of red onions) to mac and cheese (with finely chopped onions melting into the sauce) and then right back to potstickers. I give my husband fucking fits – he can barely keep up long enough to shove my craving of choice down my throat before I’m already asking for something else. And if I’m online browsing through food porn, forget about it. In the span of an hour, I can have the foodie equivalent of multiple orgasms staring at everything I want at that very moment, only to be replaced by yet another want. It’s a hot mess. Continue reading Bolognese Recipes and Link Roundup→
The Colonel never did anything for me growing up – to this day, I am wedded to the addictive blend of herbs and spices that form a layer of lipsmacking goodness around the crisp skinned chickens roasted at the Peruvian joints in Northern Virginia (or for us OGs, two up – two down*) And I’m lying when I say joints, for there is only one location that has my heart, and that’s El Pollo Rico. The exterior of the restaurant looks like a nondescript warehouse with bumping fluorescent lighting and a steady clip of customers zipping in and emerging with styrofoam containers and brown paper bags almost translucent from the french fry grease. Like a speakeasy for chicken, my dad would always run in, broker the deal and grab the bounty, returning with parcels that perfumed the car with the scent of cumin, garlic and majesty. When we finally got home and tucked into the feast, it was scandalously good – the chicken was served with fat steak fries, and both items would receive a ceremonial dip in a mustard/mayo sauce and then a dollop of fresh minced jalapenos before making it to my greedy mouth. And if I was lucky (really lucky), they’d still have fried yucca in stock, which we’d bring home in lieu of the fries. Cracklingly golden on the outside and tender in the center, this was the first preparation I’d ever had for yucca and I was sold for life. In fact, I loved it so much that I had to find a way to prepare it at home – I couldn’t wait for trips to the right coast to get my yucca fix. Continue reading Fried Yucca with Mojo Criollo→
