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
Sweet corn tomalito, do you want to go steady? Can I wear your letter jacket? Wanna go to prom together? Because I think you’re the bees knees. I fell in love the first time I tasted you at Chevy’s, tipsy from bathtub sized margaritas with plenty o’ salt, sneaking nibbles of you in an effort to extend the fun. I had to find a recipe hack on the web in order to bring you home with me, and it turned out that I had to dedicate a full-on hour to get you hot and ready before I could eat you up. You were a corn souffle of out and out perfection, and it meant that you needed time to rise to the occasion. But wait! How could I make things a little more dangerous? I know – I’d smother you with spicy chorizo, tri-colored sweet peppers, onions and garlic and then devour you with no hesitation and every last bit of my love. And yes, I’m willing to share you with everyone who wants you, just as long as I can still get a taste. Sound like a plan? Continue reading Sweet Corn Tomalito with Chorizo and Peppers
I was born for sexy, sultry heat, which maybe has a lot to do with why I adore the kitchen. And when the humidity cranks the knob a notch higher, my knickers turn a tizzy for a taste of something tropical. The combinations of salty, sweet and spicy are so dizzyingly addictive, I want to break out into a salsa and shake my shit until it falls off. Okay, maybe not until it falls out – I don’t really feel like dropping a co-pay for too much of a good time. What I really want is a mess of this shredded beef simmered with bell peppers, sweet onions and a sexy-as-hell tomato garlic sauce to bind it all up. And I want it with fluffy white rice and beans as dark as my intentions after too many pitchers of sangria. I want some ropa vieja. Stat. Continue reading Easy Ropa Vieja (Cuban Braised Beef)
As much as I love techniques that save time and effort, sometimes you have to go for broke and forget all the shortcuts. When I read Chef Tim Ma’s recipe for his caramelized onions (“carmies” for short), I paused for a beat. 3 to 4 hours? For real, dude? Yes, for real.
As I peeled and chopped away, I wondered what the final product would be like given the sheer amount of time expended on the dish. And as the onions sweated away, the house started to smell good. And then it smelled better than that. And then better than that. And then so good that I began to question why I didn’t cook all onions in this way.
Sandra Lee and Rachel Ray be damned (although I could see that maybe, just maybe, Rachel Ray would cook these babies earnestly on a weekend – maybe that’s a little too much faith in humanity), this recipe is the most perfect exercise in reminding ourselves why we cook at all. When we give the ingredients we’re working with the exact amount of time that they need to become the epitome of deliciousness, we have the ability to create dishes that excite and delight. I say all of this with the utmost of sincerity – why would I ever waste time making boo boo when I could make these onions?
Ingredients
6 sweet yellow onions, thinly sliced
3 tbs. of butter
1 tbs. of salt
1 tbs. of sugar
Melt butter over medium heat in a large skillet. Add onions and season with salt and sugar. Reduce heat to as low as possible and cook onions slowly until they become a deep golden brown, stirring occasionally. You’ll be cooking these guys for about 3-4 hours.
This is barely a recipe, but so delicious it’s well worth listing here. Layer these onions on foccacia with rare roast beef, fresh arugula, horseradish cheddar and mayo, salt and pepper. It’s lovely for the spice, particularly the peppery arugula playing up the sweetness of the onions. Yes!
Languishing in the kitchen by myself, I found myself thinking about the incredible movie “The Wackness” and ended up jonesing for some old Mary J (pronounced Murr J) and the song “Reminisce” – the irony is not lost on me.
Our pizza night growing up was rarely an affair catered by Pizza Hut or Dominos. We used to frequent a family-owned joint that most Northern Virginians are probably familiar with called Joes. We’d get take out from the Bailey’s Crossroads location, ordering doughy Sicilian pies with mounds of thinly-shaved toppings. Their crusty calzones hid pools of creamy ricotta, melty mozzarella and tender ham. They made the steak and cheese hero that I continue to judge all others against. And their hippie rolls, a sausage stromboli of sorts with a tasty touch of crushed red pepper, became the fodder for regular, late night food cravings. Pliant and chewy pizza dough held sweet roasted peppers and onions and a smidge of mozzarella cheese. My dad would order a couple and slice them into rings for everyone to snack on, and they rarely lasted long. Continue reading Hippie Roll
When I was a kid, on Saturday mornings or Sundays after church, my parents would occasionally take us to Bob’s Big Boy for their breakfast buffet. A veritable smorgasbord of all things bad for you, I used to tuck into the absolute same dish every single time – a big plate of fluffy scrambled eggs, home fries (the deep fried square kind), a mixture of cooked ham, peppers and onions, and cheese sauce over all. It was baaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. Like taste bud good and cholestoral bad news. But whatever – I was a kid and as much as I didn’t care about 401Ks and Roth IRAs, I wasn’t really invested in wholesome ingredients at the breakfast buffet. It was Big Boys for goodness sakes.
I’m older and wiser now, with (at least I like to think) a more discriminating palette. The equivalent of breakfast cheese fries and eggs (which were probably dehydrated for all I know) don’t have the same appeal. And yet, the strange combination of peppers, onions and ham has stuck with me all these years. It was odd – the diced ingredients were kept warm in a broth of sorts, keeping the ham moist and the onion mellow. In an effort to recreate some atavistic memory of my childhood, I set upon a method of recreating this Western blend for a breakfast of my past. Served atop delicately scrambled eggs and sharp cheddar cheese, it may not be the low-brow brunch of my yester-years, but it still manages to make me smile. And given the wholesome ingredients, your arteries are not at risk 😉
1/2 c. of diced onion
1/2 c. of diced green bell pepper
1/2 c. of canadian bacon, diced
1 c. of water
1 tsp. of salt
pinch of finely cracked black pepper
1/2 tsp. of olive oil
4 eggs
splash of whole milk
1/4 c. of sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
2 tbs. of butter
To a small pot, add the onion, bell pepper, canadian bacon, water, salt, pepper and olive oil. Bring contents to a boil, and then immediately turn off the heat. Let sit while you prep your eggs.
In a shallow dish, scramble eggs and milk together, making sure not to overbeat. Heat a large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. When warm, turn heat to low and add butter to the pan. Swirl butter around the pan to slick the bottom and then add the eggs. As the eggs slowly cook, use your spatula to push the curds to opposite sides of the pan and allow the uncooked egg to run across the surface of the hot pan. Continue gently pushing the egg around until it is all cooked and just set – I like mine still a bit glossy and wet, but cook to your liking. Sprinkle shredded cheese on top and allow to melt from the heat of the warm eggs. With a slotted spoon, scoop up some of the ham, pepper and onion mix and top a portion of the eggs. Dig in to straight up breakfast comfort.
