Archive for the ‘brunch’ Category

you can’t call it cheatin’

Thursday, October 18th, 2012

Monday morning we were in much better shape (due to a distinct lack of residual corned beef, as well as lower alcohol consumption, I suspect) and we made it out of the hotel in time for the tail end of rush hour.

And waffles.

This truck is called Wafels and Dinges. They’re all over the city, but we stopped at the one in Columbus Circle.

I got the Brussels wafel with speculoos spread, which I’ve been reading about for years (or so it feels, I actually have no idea – I mean, doesn’t it feel like you were hearing about burrata when you were just a fetus at this point?)  and it was so fucking delicious that I really was just forced to use a curse word in that sentence.

It was so delicious that I don’t even care that I look like a squinty rabbit in this picture.

I dropped the last quarter of it on the ground.

It was the saddest thing that happened to me in the whole trip.

Crockett went for the special of the day, which was an apple pie waffle. Same waffle, apple pie spread, whipped cream, cinnamon, and lots of love (probably).  I’m sure it was good, but it was no speculoos. Seriously, cookie spread? Sounds so weird! SO NOT WEIRD. SO GOOD.

After Crockett finished his waffle and I had a moment of silence for the city-sidewalk-death of mine, we headed to Chelsea to see Highline Park and (more importantly) the Chelsea Market. Highline Park is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen (<- complete and total lie). It’s like a museum walkway built twenty feet above the ground – the whole thing is only fifteenish feet wide and bedroom and office windows immediately surround it. Neat thing to do with an old train track, but still very strange. Crockett took a bunch of pictures but apparently I wasn’t feeling it, because I have zero. What I do have is a picture of the seafood sliders we shared from The Lobster Place in Chelsea Market. Crab one – good. Shrimp one – eh. Really, who genuinely likes tarragon? I’m asking. Lobster one – quite tasty but still no match for the one at The Empire. (Of COURSE I’m not sucking up to my hometown local, what’choo talkin’ bout.)

From there we hopped over to the Essex St. Market. We were exhausted, but I wanted to see Shopsin’s and get some cookies from Beurre & Sel.

Two shops at the market were closed, everything else was open. Those two shops were Shopsin’s and Beurre & Sel. Sigh. The whole thing was just like a confusing supermarket – it might have been cool if we hadn’t been to Chelsea Market first, but we had. We got Crockett some coconut water and moved on with our lives.

It turned out we were only a few blocks from the famous bagel-er (made up word? Judge says… probably!) Russ & Daughters, so we swung by to round out our brunch of tiny sandwiches.

Lox (don’t ask me what kind – the man behind the counter tried and then just said ‘mild?’ and I said ‘ok!’ and then he asked me what kind of cream cheese and I said ‘what kind do you like’ and he said ‘I like them all’ so I just picked and he said ‘spectacular’ and I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or what but anyway) and scallion cream cheese on a plain mini bagel. Question: is the defining characteristic of New York bagels an exceptionally chewy crust?

Properly fortified, we headed back to midtown.

We stopped by the LEGO store and I pretended, just for a moment, that I was Liz Lemon. It was very exciting. I tried to talk Crockett into ice skating, because it turns out the rink in Rockefeller Center is there even when the tree isn’t, but then when he said he would it turned out I was just kidding because my feet hurt. Whoops.

Instead, we went by MOMA. Although they were lacking a giant Egyptian statue, their gift shop was way better than the Met’s. I call it a draw on the museums-we-didn’t-actually-go-into showdown.

We had a whole plan. We’d walked off our mini sandwiches, and we were going to have a late lunch at Don Antonio, another pizza place on my list-of-NY-pizza places (a list that didn’t actually include any traditional NY style pie places but wev), then nap, then head back out.

We showed up at Don Antonio at 3:31, and they were closed from 3:30 to 4:30. Their website said nothing about that, so I whined for awhile, and Crockett decided to move the nap up the list of things to do – I only made it a few blocks before freaking out and insisting I needed a drink and a chair asap.

I’m sometimes quite charming to travel with.

Victor’s Cafe saved me!

A daiquiri …

an avocado filled with bacon and tomato and monterey jack served with plaintain chips…

and some pretty hilarious avocado-as-creepy-crawly artwork by Crockett …

put the smile back on my face. (I think I took like seven pictures. Crockett was smiling in most of them  but I looked like an idiot. I have no idea what’s happening with him in this one but it’s my blog so HA. This may have been immediately after the bartender was talking about how he’d accidentally auditioned for a porn, so maybe Crockett’s mulling that over.)

The avocado didn’t turn out to be enough food, and it was a little after four thirty by the time we finished at Victor’s, so we decided to head back to Don Antonio. They’re doing traditional Neapolitan pizza, just like Motorino, but with some twists.

Crockett started with a beer that had a gorgeous label, and I had some … wine. People, I don’t even know anymore. A lot of things happened in these days, and many of those things were wine, ok?

We ordered two pizzas, even though we weren’t starving, because we absolutely had to try the house specialty. (This is not it.) This is a sausage pizza with fresh mozzarella and pistachio pesto that reminded me very much of the pizzas they sell on the street in Turkey. It got better with every bite, and was it’s absolute best at room temperature. Strange but true.

This is the house specialty. The dough is lightly fried prior to being topped with sauce and smoked mozzarella and baked. It was bizarre, and as far as ‘pizza’ goes it wasn’t anything special, but as a food all on it’s own? Fried bread with tasty sauce and cheese? I could eat that every single day. Also, it was $12, which struck me as crazy reasonable, especially considering we were in midtown Manhattan.

We had lots of leftovers and took them home, but I had to stop one more time before we hit the hotel.

Pinkberry peanut butter froyo! We don’t have Pinkberry in CO, so how could I resist?

I’m not going to lie -we almost didn’t make it back out of the hotel after all that. We’d walked for hours, eaten a bunch, drank… we were wiped. We napped until seven and then rallied, though, because we were in New York freaking City.

We went to the Apple Store.

Nope, not at all kidding.

Then we walked cross town to Hell’s Kitchen, to yet another place I’d stumbled across in my internet explorations of the city. It’s called Caseulla, and they specialize in wine and cheese. Naturally, we had some wine and cheese. Crockett also had a mead called Viking’s Blood, and everyone around us at the bar was fascinated and had to taste it too. Then our bartender tried to pick up our bar neighbor, even though he was pretty clearly already on a date.

Then we ate bacon popcorn and I realized it was Crockett’s birthday, because it was past midnight.

The bartender brought us goat cheese and Nutella truffles to celebrate, we ate them, and then we walked home.  It was our last night, but we were seriously wiped, so we decided to have one more drink at the hotel bar and then call it a night.  We did not see Chase Crawford or Blake Lively, but we did have cozy seats by the fireplace, so I think we made the right call. Then we slept hard. NY is exhausting, have I mentioned that?

 

 

 

 

 

 

what weekend? and peach bars!

Tuesday, August 21st, 2012

One particular thing that I forgot about working in a office.

“How was your weekend?”

It’s not that I mind people asking. Even semi-faux interest is a nice gesture when you’re spending serious quality cubicle time with people. It’s more that I immediately lose track of what happened over the weekend the second I walk back into the building. Weekend me disappears and week me, who is a lot like weekend me except without the fun part, gets all up in my frontal lobe.

I did have a good weekend, though!

Photo 1

The girls and I had some weird moments where they enthusiastically sniffed at a fence (that’s in front of another fence) so hard that Maida started snapping at Cloey because she was hogging the sniffing.

Why weird? Because I stuck my nose near the fence too. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I didn’t smell anything, but there’s a pretty good chance that I sucked something gross into my nose all the same.

Photo 3

Crockett and I looked at our freezer and realized that some of our favorite tamales from Costco that we don’t eat anymore because one day we accidentally looked at the nutritional information (TERRIBLE IDEA, PEOPLE) were still hiding in there, so steamed ‘em up. There’s taking care of your health, and there’s wasting food. I prefer to do the first and avoid the second, but sometimes the two collide, and you have to have tamales for dinner.

Photo 4

Mine fell apart on it’s way out of the steamer, but it was still so delicious that I swooned. Swooned, I tell you. There’s nothing like a hearty mixture of lard and masa to really bring a Saturday night home.

Also, I made peach-thyme cornmeal crumb bars.

Photo 2

Because my peaches were being stupid and my thyme plant was being awesome. The recipe is at the bottom but I have a LOT of words today ok? Ok.

Sunday was basically more of the same, except with some cooking for the upcoming week and some laundry doing and oh right also less recovering from multiple texas slushes.

Did I mention that Friday night was a big night?

Photo 1

Sunday morning I snacked on some fruit and then ran to the store to get half and half, which I’d forgotten on my big Saturday shopping trip. My local Albertson’s, which is a workhorse of a grocery store that can totally fill in for half and half when needed but isn’t really my go-to for … well, anything fresh, had a small basket of hierloom tomatoes. I don’t know where they came from, and I don’t care. They looked wonderful. (I can no longer accept the regular ones now that I know their color is ruining their flavor! They look pretty and then blerg. I’m over it.) I bought two and three avocados and when I got home I pulled Crockett away from his tree trimming for brunch BLATs.

That was a really long story just to have it end with BLAT, when you could clearly see there was a BLAT right there.

Photo 2

The tomato was so good that I ate it with the leftover aioli (ha – light mayo with additional lemon juice and powdered garlic).

Photo 3

Then, to continue our produce-centric meals, I made a pizza with tomatoes (Pomi), tomatoes (yellow cherry), mozzarella (left over from book club), goat cheese, and two kinds of basil.

It was super tasty.

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Cloey really really wanted a bite, but I was too focused on Hell On Wheels to give her more than many minute of doting attention.

Look at her face.

Seriously.

She didn’t get any, though, because her tummy is still upset and also pizza isn’t for dogs!

Peach Thyme Crumb Bars
Based on Smitten Kitchen Blueberry Crumb Bars

1 cup white sugar
2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup yellow cornmeal (not stone ground)
1 teaspoon baking powder
3/4 cup cold butter, cut into slices
1 egg
1/4 cup sour cream (light is fine)
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons minced thyme
4 cups sliced peaches (I did not bother peeling them)
1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch

Heat your oven to 375. Grease a 9 x 13 or 10 x 10 inch pan. (Crockett got me this square nonstick Williams Sonoma cake pan that I worship and I literally bake everything I can in it. I didn’t even grease it.)

Stir together the first four ingredients and the thyme. Scatter the butter over the top and cut it in using either a pastry cutter or the tips of your fingers. When the butter is mostly flat and small, add the egg and the sour cream. Smoosh it together until it’s holding together in small clumps, and pat slightly more than half into the bottom of your pan. You don’t need to  press very hard, just make a flat surface.

Toss the sliced peaches with the cornstarch, and lay them out in a roughly even layer. Sprinkle the rest of the dough over the top, as close to even as you can get.

Bake for 45 minutes. You want the top to be lightly brown and the fruit to be bubbling where it’s visible.

Munch munch munch.

Why no, I’m not working today

Monday, October 17th, 2011

Today and tomorrow are fall break!

And yesterday was Crockett’s birthday!

If your definition of epic is ‘yeah, that was pretty awesome’, then it’s been an epic weekend. (If your definition of epic is the actual definition of epic then I apologize for how I like to use it.)

On Friday we went out with a few of Crockett’s friends. For 10 hours. (We met the early birds at a 4 pm happy hour and stayed out with the latecomers until after midnight – who’s 33 now, huh?)

me and crockett at empire

Based on the reactions on facebook, this is the most best my hair has ever looked.

How could I not share that with you?

On Saturday we recuperated.

On Sunday, birthday funday really began.

We started with brunch at Lola, one of Crockett’s favorite places.

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It was nice enough that we could sit on the patio. (Please excuse my dirty camera lens.)

I told the host and our server that it was Crockett’s birthday. He told me to stop. I said ‘not on your life’.

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And then we got free cinnamon sugar doughnuts, proving pretty soundly that I was right and he was wrong.

Ha.

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We ordered brunch drinks – a peach mimosa for me and a bloody maria for the birthday boy, and then got down to doughnut eating while we made our meal choices.

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And while Crockett fielded birthday calls, left and right.

He’s apparently quite popular.

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Here’s the thing about fried food. It may be guilt inducing, sometimes. It may be overkill, sometimes.

Sometimes, though? It’s perfect. These doughnuts were warm and crispy and every single bite was absolutely necessary.

Lola is a little tough for me – they have a lot of bell peppers in their hashes and stuff. I went with a safe choice.

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Chicken and waffles.

Wait, did I say safe?

I meant delicious. It was a brined chicken breast with buttermilk waffles (I think), chorizo gravy, and a raspberry chipotle syrup. I made Crockett a bite right off, so that I wouldn’t eat it all before he got to try it.

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For his own meal, Crockett went for the pulled pork benedict, served on chile cornmeal muffins.

It was tasty, but it was no chicken and waffles.

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I also caved and ordered coffee. I’m trying to move away from coffee in restaurants, because I keep getting refills and then I feel a little jittery until mid-afternoon. Sure, I could just turn down the refills, but it’s better if I don’t have to put myself in that position. I’m not strong like that.

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A chicken waffleicious bite, right there.

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Lola is in a really great neighborhood of Denver, and they’re one of the locations where you can rent these bikes. You pay $6 for the day, and can take a bike from any location for up to half an hour for free. It’s kind of expensive, but we had some time to kill before our next stop, so we rented a couple and rode around the neighborhood, looking at adorable houses and new condos and dreaming of a slightly more urban life. When we brought the bikes back, we realized we still had some time to kill, so we checked them out again and rode over the highway into downtown Denver. We tooled around for half an hour, through the parks – it was a very effective way to rid ourselves of our brunch induced desire to nap.

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It’s a good thing, because our big event for the day was pretty physical. Indoor skydiving!

(Those two people are not us.)

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These two people are us.

Once we started the skydiving, I had to lock up all my stuff, so I don’t have any pictures. I do have a video, but in general it was like this – we laid on our stomachs in the wind and tried really hard to learn what some people make look easy.

We were pretty good, honestly.

Afterwards, we went to Crockett’s brothers house for dinner and delicious homemade Italian style cheesecake.

It was a lovely day.

Happy birthday, baby!

brrrr

Monday, October 10th, 2011

It’s not actually that cold – but I’m cold from the inside out. You know that feeling?

rainy day

All day yesterday it rained (except for the few minutes that it was not raining, when it was just cold and wet – not that much better).

You’d think that the amount of rain we get here in CO would mean that I’d welcome it when it came, for the novelty if for no other reason. Theoretically, that’s true. I mean, I love the idea of rain.

In practice, not so much.

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Yes, that is a cup of coffee in front of a mug of tea.

See? Rain makes me cold on the inside, and it’s much harder to overcome that than being cold on the outside.

warm grape nuts

With my coffee and tea, I had Grape Nuts in warm milk.

I love Grape Nuts in warm milk. They stay a little crunchy but soak up a TON of milk. It’s wonderful.

If I hadn’t already had dinner and dessert, I would get some now.

mushroom soup

I know, I said I’d tell you about the mushroom and white bean soup.

Honestly, it’s not that interesting.

It makes ok leftovers.

For dinner we went to Crockett’s brother’s house, and had all sorts of deliciousness. Cheese plate and brussels sprouts salad (from me), zucchini bisque, roast chicken with carrots, fresh bread, sauteed kale, and stuffed mushrooms. The third couple who came are vegetarians, and the veggie choices trumped the chicken for almost everyone at the table. Most of the veggies came from Crockett’s brother’s wife’s (jeez) garden, which is pretty badass, and everything was delicious.

Except the kale.

But a) in my role as kitchen helper, I cooked it, and b) kale is disgusting when it’s not boiled and rinsed before being doused with various cheeses.

Perhaps you shouldn’t trust me when I say the kale wasn’t good.

homework setup

My hours of homework yesterday (broken only by a freeeEEEEEzing trip to the gym to do intervals on the treadmill before dinner) were done at the kitchen table. Today I felt like a change of scenery, so i shifted everything 12 feet to the coffee table.

As I write this at 8:30 pm, I’m in my 10th hour on the floor (started at 8:30 am, took an hour off to run and another to walk the dogs and make and eat dinner).

Yeah.

I feel awesome.

avocado yum

After I’d been on the floor for awhile, Crockett took pity and made me toast with some pulled pork, avocado, and a fried egg.

I wonder if I stop cooking if he’d just take over.

Obviously I’d eat well.

vegetable pasta

We ate our brunch late (11ish), so neither of us got hungry for lunch. I ate some crackers before going to the gym, and that’s it.

At about six, I realized we’d both be starving in half an hour, and if I didn’t head us off at the pass, I’d desert my homework and we’d go out to eat.

I chopped up some summer squash and zucchini and a big tomato, tossed them with some olive oil and crushed red pepper and dried basil, and stuck them in the oven for half an hour. When they were almost done, I dumped half a bag of spinach penne into a pot of water.

When everything looked delicious, I threw it all into a bowl with some extra olive oil and some goat cheese.

It took maybe ten minutes of actual work, and was delicious.

two bowls pasta salad

Would I have been psyched to receive it somewhere like Noodles? Hell yeah.

Anything I would be pleased with at a fast casual dining establishment is a win when it comes out of my kitchen.

chocolate

Now I’m back to practice exams – and therefore must have chocolate.

How was your weekend?

 

quick, how many things (that make sense) could OLI stand for?

Monday, October 3rd, 2011

Do you ever wake up on Saturday just ready to go-go-go?

(If you said yes, I’ve slightly misjudged my audience, but that’s awesome for you!)

tomato muffin

I rolled out of bed verrry gradually, and ended up making an english muffin with cream cheese for breakfast at around ten. One side was savory (cream cheese and tomato slices with a sprinkling of salt)…

coconut cream cheese english muffin

and the other side was sweet, with (apparently barely) toasted coconut and the same cream cheese.

I wanted it to be light, because I went to the gym afterwards, and my mom has been telling me I’m not working out hard enough. She’s a certified personal trainer, although she doesn’t actually train anyone, and she said that my weights are too light. I went in yesterday with the intention of actually trying – shocking, I know.

I succeeded.

I mostly do machines, because the downstairs (where the free weights are) is full of sweaty high school boys. I’m not sure that’s the best call, because not all of the machines get small enough for me, but I’ll worry about that some other time. I increased my weights at least one level on every machine, and two on most.

grape nuts and watermelon

When I got home I was starving. This is the problem with working out really hard – you can’t wait to eat afterwards. Crockett used to go to the gym right before lunch and then head down the street to Chipotle afterwards. I ate the thing with the least preparation that I could think of: cereal. Specifically, Grape Nuts. (There are a lot of Grape Nuts in that bowl, they’re just so full of awesomeness that they don’t float.)

I also threw together some pizza dough to be used for dinner, and then I sat down to tackle some statistical methods homework.

At 7:30 I was 90% done with the homework (it’s a two-week assignment, so it’s not totally crazy that it takes so long), and making pizza seemed hard and I really wanted beer. Specifically Stella Artois. We had no beer and definitely no Stella.

Stella at OLI

You know who has Stella?

OLI.

green chili at OLI

They also have green chili and big, soft, delicious flour tortillas. (If this looks familiar, it’s because this is what I ALWAYS order at the OLI.)

southwest chicken salad

Crockett’s go-to is the southwestern chicken salad, although he occasionally branches out into the reuben.

eating chili

I tried to smile, but Crockett took too long and I had to take a bite.

(It was 80 in Louisville yesterday – I’m just wearing two long sleeve shirts because I’m always cold.)

the end of dinner

I really wish professional eater was a job. I enjoy it so much more than I do doing homework.

OLI

The OLI was not hopping, at 8 on a Saturday night. I would say I’m worried for them, but they’ve been around since …

OLI placemat

1906, so they must be doing something right.

Dinner out two nights in a row.

And we’re not even celebrating anything.

Best weekend ever.

 

 

 

dia de st. patty

Thursday, March 17th, 2011

Who, me? Confused?

Ok, as far as St. Patrick’s Day food is concerned, I have three things that I’m interested in.

Guinness, Guinness cake, and …

Ok, two things.

My dad always used to cook corned beef when I was little, and I hated the smell. I love reubens, though, so the other day when I was at the grocery store I called Crockett and asked if he wanted corned beef.

He pointed out that it is not healthy and we are trying to be sort of healthy.

I bought cabbage instead, to make suspiciously delicious cabbage.

We haven’t made it yet.

We’ll see how much Guinness I consume between now and dinner.

I woke up with green eggs and ham on my mind, instead.

But then I remembered that green eggs and ham are disgusting.

So I made breakfast pizza instead.

Breakfast Pizza

1 pizza worth of pizza dough (I used a version of my recipe from the other day with the addition of olive oil and whole wheat, but again, use whatever you like (including purchased dough))

3-5 eggs, depending on pizza size
Two small or one large tomato
Half a ball of fresh mozzarella cheese
Olive oil
Dried basil
Salt
Pepper
Shaved romano

1) Heat the oven to 425.
2) Roll out your pizza dough, only pretty thin, not super thin.
3) Brush the dough with olive oil and slice your tomatoes. Lay the tomatoes out over the dough, leaving a space for each egg that you plan on adding. Slice the mozzarella and evenly distribute (you can cover the egg spaces with mozz if you want – the tomatoes will just lift the eggs up and they’ll get everywhere). Sprinkly lightly with salt and heavily with pepper. Stick it in the oven for 9 minutes.
4) Remove the pizza from the oven and use your fingers or the back of a spoon to create depressions in the dough where you plan to put the eggs. Crack an egg into each depression, sprinkle with dried basil, and  cook for another 7 minutes. (If you want the eggs runny, cook for 10 the first time and 6 the second – firm, 8 minutes without eggs and 8 minutes with. 16 minutes total, ok?).
5) Sprinkle with the shaved romano.

Eat.

With strawberries, if you have four pounds of them.

White and nerdy

Tuesday, March 15th, 2011

No, it’s not my fault that I just quoted Weird Al.

It’s Crockett’s fault.

He keeps singing it.

I just realized how remiss I’ve been, spring break wise. I didn’t even show you pictures of my pancakathon!

Laura and I went to The Huckleberry for brunch on my first official day of break.

I don’t know how many pancakes are technically required for a pancakathon.

There are three here. And I ate all of them.

I think that counts.

The Huckleberry is hit or miss, for me, but it worked out that day. Perhaps I’ve been trying to get too fancy with my ordering choices. Even when it’s mediocre, though, it’s in my little town, and that’s enough to keep me coming back.

Laura keeps coming back because she has a thing for tea, and they are not stingy with their tea choices.

Plus? Crepes.

Crockett really likes the crepes too.

I can’t get into crepes.

They’re not real food, people. They’re all ethereal and stuff.

Food, especially breakfast food, should not be of the sort that allows you to forget about it two hours later.

Happily, my pancakes kept me full for a week and a half.

Ok, that’s probably a slight exaggeration.

I did feel the need for something a little less ‘piles of carbohydrate’ when I finally ate again, so I made a ceasar salad with grilled mahi and homemade bacon croutons.

Homemade bacon croutons: chop two pieces of bacon and three pieces of bread (no crusts) into bite size pieces. Put all the pieces in a pan over medium high heat. Cook until everything is crispy, stirring occasionally.

See? Healthy.

Syrup

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

Yes, I do like syrup. In the title, though, it’s capitalized for a reason.

Syrup.

My friends Rachael and Anna recently moved to a new house, in the Baker neighborhood of Denver. I’m a scared little suburban girl, so up and coming neighborhoods make me a little nervous, but their house is adorable. And like a block from the Breckenridge Brewery. Not that they’ve been there. If I lived there, though? Brewery tours. YAY.

I drove to Denver to see their house, and they took me to their favorite brunch location. Syrup is actually in Cherry Creek, a shwanky neighborhood not too far away, but they apparently go there all the time.

Despite the lack of a liquor license, I knew they were right about this place when I saw the wallpaper and the dog heads in the entryway.

The interior is this great shade of green as well, and I was thisclose to stealing some of the white chairs.

I have a lot of chairs, but lookithowcutetheyare!!

And this. If I could have figured out a way, this would have come home with me.

We were seated at the corner table, with sun and a street level view of saturday Cherry Creek shoppers.

Don’t judge Rachael for making this face at me. Our coffee hadn’t been poured yet.

Oh, there it is.

The coffee was mild and drinkable, as evidenced by the fact that I drank approximately five cups.

Rach and Anna know their way around the menu, and made their decisions right away. This is Rachael’s not-Benedict.

By not-Benedict I mean she ordered the corned beef benedict (still a benedict), on a croissant (mmmaybe still a benedict), and then asked that they scramble the eggs.

I don’t know what you call this delicious mess, but it ain’t a benedict.

Anna had a breakfast sandwich, on a croissant. With a side of hollandaise sauce.

I did tell you they know their way around the menu, right?

I had the classic breakfast burrito, with absolutely no alterations. No croissants, no hollandaise. It was all very boring of me.

It was super tasty, though. I don’t know what all was in it, exactly -chorizo, definitely, and green chili on top. Eggs. A good tortilla. And … some other stuff.

They give you a lot of food. Rach had some leftovers…

and I definitely had some leftover (insert this image for Saturday night dinner, if you will).

They cleared our plates, and the meal was over.

Oh, no, wait.

It wasn’t over.

Rachael and Anna have this wacky concept.

Breakfast dessert.

Sure, Syrup calls them ‘Breakfast Appetizers’, but R&A have decided they make far more sense as desserts. You chose a pancake or waffle flight, and then three types of syrup from that list.

And then two types of butter from this list.

Yeah, that’s right.

You’re looking at breakfast dessert.

Sadly the butters shown aren’t the ones we asked for. We wanted Drunken Pecan and Honey Butter, and all they had left was PB&J Butter and regular butter.

The syrups, though – dear god, the syrups. I didn’t even need butter.

In front is the Maple Vanilla syrup. Do you see the flecks of vanilla seed in that syrup? That is SO MUCH vanilla. My moderately trained eye tells me that the teaspoon of syrup on my plate probably has a quarter of a vanilla bean’s worth of seed in it. So much vanilla.

When Crockett gets home from skiing, we’re going to take a bath in the stuff.

Sorry for that imagery.

The one in the middle is Strawberry Syrup. It was good. If I’d tasted it before the Maple Vanilla, I probably would have been really impressed – it truly tasted like strawberries, not like a strawberry jolly rancher (which is what I expected). The one in the back is butterscotch syrup. It tasted like butterscotch.

Whatever.

Did I mention the Maple Vanilla syrup?

it’s not so bad

Sunday, February 27th, 2011

By it, I mean the student life.

Sure, I don’t have any money and I can never literally say I don’t have anything to do.

But some Friday mornings, I get to lounge around with Laura and her little girl, eating breakfast and discussing the state of discontent in America.

I made this casserole with Laura in mind. She loves things sweet, and sweet it absolutely was. In the below recipe I’ve reduced the sugar, because it was REALLY sweet. If you like a lot of sugar at breakfast, feel free to increase the sugar to 1 cup.

Apple Cheddar Breakfast Bread Pudding
Adapted from  a recipe developed by Breakfast on the Connecticut B&B

4 eggs
cups milk
1/2 cup sugar
3 tablespoons butter, melted
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 teaspoon kosher salt
7 slices firm white bread (cut into cubes)
2 medium apples, preferably a crisp variety (peeled, cored, cubed)
2/3 cup grated cheddar cheese (about 3 oz)
2 tablespoons raw sugar

If cooking immediately, preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter an 8 inch square pan. In large bowl whisk the eggs, and add the milk, sugar, butter, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Whisk until sugar is at least mostly dissolved. Add the bread, apples and cheese – toss until the liquid has been mostly absorbed. Pour the mixture into the prepared dish. Cover and refrigerate overnight or bake immediately.  Bake 3o-35 minutes if room temperature and 35-45 minutes if refrigerated, until golden and set all the way through.

I also served sliced bananas tossed with chopped Trader Joe’s Sesame Seed Honey Cashews (still kicking around from our Santa Fe trip, sadly a TJ’s has not popped up overnight in Louisville), and frozen grapes.

I’m kind of obsessed with frozen grapes.

Laura’s 16 month old liked them too. She’s a girl with excellent taste.

See?

A very spirited discussion.

She brought me flowers as a housewarming gift. Isn’t that lovely?  She even brought buds so I’d have flowers for longer.

Because I’m the luckiest girl evah, Laura was not my only girl date on Friday.

What? This and homework is what I do while Crockett is out of town.

My beautiful girlfriend Yvonne and I enjoyed ourselves thoroughly at the Waterloo happy hour.

Sweet potato fries and gorgonzola dip.

What, you don’t see any gorgonzola dip?

Oh, right, that’s because we ate an entire dish full.

And beer.

I did mention there was beer, right?

eat your heart out, woodie guthrie

Thursday, January 27th, 2011

Last night I was full of the hyper. I don’t know why that sometimes happens – it carried through until after my run today, though, so I’m not gunna mess with it. Bring it on, hyper.

Of course, Crockett, who had specifically requested that we sleep in because neither of us had anywhere to be, was not thrilled that I woke up at 7:30 and was all ok let’s-go-let’s-go-let’s-go… but I had made him breakfast already, so we were fine.

Breakfast? Already made when I woke up?

Why, yes. Pancetta and Cinnamon Ricotta Breakfast Casserole, actually.

Assembling it is what I did last night when it was 10:30 and I wasn’t ready for bed.

First, I cut up some bacon.

Because really, why not.

Then I chopped up the rosemary-thyme yeast wreath that I tested for food52 and stuck in the freezer.

There may or may not have been a ricotta blender incident.

Oh wait. There definitely was a ricotta blender incident. You know how you can tell? From the ricotta on my shirt.

P.S. I didnt’ use ricotta. I used cottage cheese. Crockett hates cottage cheese, so I was trying to keep it a secret, but I can’t lie to you!

Started with bread.

Added bacon (cooked until crispy).

Ricotta, brown sugar, and Frangelico (what? Crockett didn’t have any vanilla and mine was like two miles away).

Second layer of bread.

In the morning, after twenty minutes out of the fridge and forty minutes in the oven, it became part of a balanced breakfast.

Crockett’s included a mixture of Superfood and orange juice.

Mine didn’t.

But it was good anyway.