Posts Tagged ‘pizza’

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?

 

 

 

 

 

 

when the moon hits your eye

Thursday, October 18th, 2012

New York City part TWO.

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Sunday morning we were both feeling a smidge under the weather. See, here’s the thing about altitude and liquor. When you’re at a lower level than where you normally live, you can hold your drinks better – that’s pretty common knowledge, right? The thing, though, is that the hangover does not change. So on a normal Saturday night, I might have three drinks over a few hours and interspersed with water. On a low altitude Saturday, I might… ok, did… have three drinks in two hours with no water. I felt FINE! And then on Sunday I felt like hell.

So. I did what any reasonable person would do, and I dragged my butt a block to Thomas Keller’s bakery. I returned with two enormous cups of quite tasty coffee, a bacon cheddar chive scone, a pistachio twist, a sticky bun, and a chocolate croissant.

We felt much better with coffee, butter, and flour in our bellies.

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Central Park better!

Dude, Central Park is enormous. It’s confusing to me how the most expensive city in the US can have such a wide swath of empty real estate. Gorgeous empty real estate, but empty real estate. Crockett pointed out that the property values would probably go down if the park wasn’t there, but still. Mind boggling.

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We made it all the way up to the reservoir, with a quick stop to watch the remote control boats. Because they’re BOATS that you control with a REMOTE.

I was a lot more excited about it than I look in this picture.

After the reservoir, we hit up the Met and reveled in the glory that was the super old Egyptian statute of a fellow who probably had a nose at one point but doesn’t anymore that’s in the lobby, and then we visited the gift shop. Museum gift shops were literally the only places we even pretended to shop on this trip. I know, it’s like I missed the whole POINT of NEW YORK.

We walked miles – literally. We estimated about four. Then we decided to head south to get some food. I had two places in the East Village – Motorino (pizza) and Ippudo (ramen) – that I really wanted us to try, so we went in that direction. When we found Ippudo, they put us on the one and a half hour wait list, but we were too weak with hunger to get out to Motorino, so we sidled up to the bar and decided to make the best of it. While I was washing the subway off my hands, Crockett was doing some genius ordering.

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This was… something with blossom in the name that is not findable online. Really, I tried. It has Campari and sake in it, and it was light and refreshing and wonderful. However, it was no…

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Steamed pork bun. Literally, if I could eat any of the foods we ate in New York every day, it would be these pork buns. The pork was sweet and soft, with a slight crunch around the edges, and there was nothing else in the bun but iceberg lettuce and mayonnaise, and it was positively wonderful.

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There were some chicken ones, too, and they were super tasty, but the pork ones were AMAZING.

We were actually seated in just a half an hour, and we settled in for some truly enormous bowls of soup.

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Crockett had the classic bowl.

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I had the special, that came with an unidentified scoop of something reddish that I needed to stir in. Mine was sweetish, and Crockett’s was warm and savory, and they were both fantastic. When we were in NY, every time we told someone we were going to or went to Ippudo, they got all excited and happy for us, and I totally see why.

Properly fortified, we went back to the hotel and passed out for several hours.

Naps are an integral part of good vacationing technique.

So, some friends of ours from Louisville were ALSO in New York, ALSO for the opening of a family members bar (ok, it opened like a month ago but close enough), and when Crockett and I woke up we hauled our butts out to the Bushwick neighborhood in Brooklyn to visit said bar. (It’s called Miles.) Our friends weren’t there, but we watched the hipsters and had some beverages.

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It was tiny and cute and the bartender had fantastic curly hair.

We only stayed for one drink, though, because our friends called us from Williamsburg and we went out to meet them. They were at a cute bar with a back porch and they’d been buying fake purses and watches all day, so we hung out and heard about that until we got hungry. At 10:30. Thank goodness things in New York close late, yeah? What with the time change, we were never eating at an appropriate time.

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We ended up at Motorino, since we’d missed it at lunch. Motorino was called the best Neopolitan style pizza by … well, by everyone, so I was pretty pumped to try it.

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I started with the ‘perfect pizza wine’, which was a semi-sparkling red blend that immediately gave me a headache but was super tasty. I love wine served in juice glasses. It feels so very Italian (says the girl who has never been to Italy but does have a last name ending in an i).

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We decided to get only one pizza, so we started with meatballs. They were good! The sauce was bright and very fresh tomatoey.

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For pizza, we absolutely had to try the brussels sprouts pizza. The Bruges at our local pizza place has brussels sprouts and pistachios, but the Motorino version had brussels sprouts and smoked pancetta (which as far as I know is bacon. Seriously.)

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Uh… then we might have gone back to Pouring Ribbons. What? We liked it there! This time I had a drink called Dueling Banjos, which has two bourbons and corn milk. I know, it sounds weird. I hate bourbon but I would drink the crap out of this drink. (Ew).

Then we went to bed. Because dude, it was a long day.

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!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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?

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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.

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

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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.

HARISSA FINALLY

Saturday, August 11th, 2012

 

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So I’ve been looking for harissa everywhere. I assumed it would not be that hard to find – it’s not like Boulder county is a culinary wasteland. I checked at two different Whole Foods, a few grocery stores, and Super Target, and had no luck whatsoever. (A WF worker did helpfully inform me that they had something that had harisa in it – some kind of meal in a box, maybe? It was definitely not what I was looking for.)

Crockett and I went to Pacific Ocean Market, even, which is this absolutely INSANE Asian market a couple of towns over. We spent several minutes sniffing durian packages (not smelly until opened, apparently), many many minutes in the ramen aisle, and quite a significant amount of time discussing cocktails made with palm sugar, since there were several brands. We did not find harissa. Honestly, I knew it was a stretch, because harissa is from Tunisia which ain’t exactly Asian, but whatever.

I ordered it from Amazon.

While we were waiting for the harissa to come, I did make some tasty food.

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Pizza with roasted cherry tomatoes, pesto from our ridiculously prolific basil plant, and goat cheese. Served with roasted green beans because this was actually last Sunday and last Sunday I had this weird idea that we were going to eat a vegetable with every meal.

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Red velvet cupcakes as a special request from a dear friend for her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend who totally ruined the surprise by buying himself two red velvet bundt cakes from Nothing Bundt Cakes the day before.

(I forgot to take pictures of them frosted, obviously, but I’ll give you the recipe tomorrow. It’s pretty good. I’ve worked pretty hard on it. And my cream cheese frosting is fucking amazing. Totally true.)

BUT then the harissa came!

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Harissa Chickpeas and Greens with Goat Cheese
Adapted from Not Without Salt

1 tablespoon oil
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 cups cooked chickpeas (or one 15 ounce can)
1 tablespoon harissa paste
3/4 tsp kosher salt
6 cups mixed greens, preferably the baby version of toughish varieties (spinach, kale) or spicy ones (arugula) – we used a whole prewashed box of mixed spinach and arugula
2 ounces goat cheese

Heat olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook, stirring, until the garlic is pale gold in color.

Stir in the harissa and dump in the chickpeas. Stir gently until they’re mostly covered with the paste, and then occasionally until you start to see golden spots on the chickpeas. You’re not just trying to heat them up, you’re actually trying to fry the outside just a little. (I was using a non-stick pan – use your judgement. If they start to stick, you can be done.)

Add the greens by the handful, stirring until they wilt. Divide into two dishes and top with crumbled goat cheese. (Feel free to serve over rice, if you like. I didn’t find it necessary but Crockett did.)

Serves two people who like heat. The harissa is spicy, but tasty.

 

under the bus

Friday, July 27th, 2012

I hate the phrase ‘throw someone under the bus’. That being said, I totally did it twice yesterday.

The first time, my bosses boss came over and asked about an anti-fatigue mat I was supposed to have since I have my standing desk. I told him I asked my boss for it, BECAUSE I HAD. Afterwards my coworker said she thought I got my boss in trouble. Whoops.

The second time was at dinner. Crockett and I had some errands to run, and we stopped on the way home to grab a pizza. A friend of ours that works there was bartending, which is a new position for her, and she was slammed. She got our drinks and put in our pizza order, but then when our pizza came we didn’t have napkins or plates or silverware. We tried to get her attention but then the bar manager saw us trying, and I made a silverware motion and he brought us some.

Then she called me out on it, and I felt absolutely terrible.

So, yeah. Whoops.

The pizza was damn good though. Marinated zucchini, buttermilk ricotta, and mozzarella.

I would eat more right now if I could.

Other dubious decisions I made yesterday: piling my breakfast into a jar like this. Pretty, right?

Eating it was not easy. My hand was covered with yogurt by the time I was done.

To make me feel better, my company gave me a popsicle.

(They did really give me a popsicle, although I don’t think it’s because of my yogurt hand issue. It was just general employee appreciation.)

Anyway. I don’t have another picture of the pork tacos, but I do have the recipe!

Pork Tacos with Asian Pickled Broccoli Slaw
Adapted from Food52 and Mark Bittman

Pork:
3 pound pork shoulder
2 medium onions, quartered
3 cloves garlic, peeled and lightly smushed
1 tsp salt (more if not using a slow cooker)
1 tablespoon cumin

Slaw:
4 cups packaged dressing free broccoli slaw
1/2 cup white vinegar
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1 tablespoon fish sauce
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar

For the ‘crema’:
Sour cream (light or otherwise)
Lime juice

Tortillas

For the pork, using a slow cooker:
Cut the pork into fist size chunks. Add with all other ingredients to slow cooker, add water to cover, and cook on low for 8 – 10 hours.

For the pork, using the stove:
Cut the pork into fist size chunks then cut in half again.  Add with all other ingredients to a dutch oven, cover with water, and bring to a boil on the stovetop. Reduce heat to simmer and cook for 1 – 1 1/2 hours.

Either way, when the pork is done, reserve a cup of the water (with as little fat in it as possible) and set the pork on a plate to cool until you can touch it. Discard the onions and garlic.  Shred the pork with your fingers or two forks, and set aside.

Start the slaw an hour before you’re planning on eating. Mix the wet ingredients together with the sugar. Find a dish that you can put something on top of, because you’re going to need to press down on the broccoli so that it all pickles at the same rate. Add the liquid and slaw to the container, cover with plastic, and then rest something on top so that all slaw is submerged.

When you’re ready to eat, mix together the sour cream and lime juice to taste. Fill a tortilla with pork (if it’s cold, reheat it on the stove with a little of the reserved cooking water), add slaw, and top with crema.

you don’t just break bad, Mr. White

Sunday, October 30th, 2011

For no good reason, I haven’t been eating very well this weekend.

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I got up super early and hit the road to catch office hours with my Mathematical Statistics professor. Three other people from my class had the same idea, so we had a powwow first thing in the morning – that did absolutely nothing to increase my understanding of Mathematical Statistics. Sigh.

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I had a date with a girlfriend in Louisville at 5, and I didn’t get home from school until 2. Crockett and I headed downtown early to get some food, and a beer and jelly jar full of white wine.

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Crockett ordered sliders, which don’t come with sides, and I got a sandwich will sweet potato tots and coleslaw. I gave him half the tots immediately because otherwise they would have found their way into my belly – sooooo good.

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Lulu’s BBQ (the link plays music, just a warning) smokes chicken, pork, and brisket, and lets you sauce it at your table to your taste. The chicken is soft and moist, which isn’t something I’ve found a lot with chicken in BBQ places. I like the pork more, but I’m having an issue with pigs lately, so chicken it is. I like it with the slaw on the sandwich. That stuff on top is Lulu’s PPO – peppers, pickles, onions. Mmm.

This sandwich carried me through to Saturday morning, y’all. It’s a lot of food.

Saturday – Statistical Methods (not the same as Mathematical Statistics – true story) homework accompanied by a bagel and half an apple.

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It was a happy breakfast.

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When I finished the assignment, I hit the gym (upper body and three miles on the treadmill). His sign says ‘another favorite ditty: “don’t go staking my heart”. Ha.

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When I got home, I microwaved milk and frozen blueberries until they were hot, and then added two handfuls of Grape Nuts. I love some me some Grape Nuts.

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While I ate, Crockett checked the specific gravity of our beer, and added wood chips (soaked in bourbon, because he’s a genius) and more hops.

Then, for the second time in two days, we went out to eat.

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Chianti for me (Stella) and beer for him (Blind Pig IPA). I have a hard time with IPAs, but Crockett said it was delicious. I also usually don’t like Chianti, but I know I don’t like a lot of the red wines Lucky Pie offers by the glass, so I gave this a shot.

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For Crockett: a lamb meatball sandwich with the most garlicky polenta I have ever had in my whole life. The sandwich was good, but then I’ve never met a meatball I didn’t like. Crockett thought it was good, but had a stomach ache afterwards, so who knows.

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I ordered a pizza for us to share – I wasn’t very hungry, but I knew we’d appreciate leftovers. Along with half Crockett’s polenta, I had two pieces of this, the Popeye pizza. Spinach, huge pieces of garlic, fontina, mozzarella, grana podano, and pecorino. I’ve realized that I don’t really enjoy the meats at LP – there’s something about the chicken, especially, that doesn’t do it for me. However, the vegetarian pizzas are great.

Anyway – pizza and bbq in two days. Acceptable but I felt a little overstuffed. You know that feeling?

 

little boxes

Wednesday, October 26th, 2011

I’ve started watching Weeds again from the beginning.

I have very strict requirements for the television that I play while I do homework. It needs to be something I’ve seen before or something I don’t particularly care about, and there needs to be a lot of it. Several seasons, minimum. When you have 10 hour homework streaks, you can go through a lot of tv.

Don’t judge me. I tried listening to music, but I like tv. I like it when people are talking.

Anyway.

After my post Sunday, I went to the gym for a medium long run. When I got home, I was STARVING.

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Crockett was starving too, so I made an early dinner of soba noodles, frozen chinese vegetables, frozen white fish (of some kind that I don’t remember – pescole? is that a thing?), coconut milk, and lemon grass. We were slurping 15 minutes after I started cooking, which was pretty much the only requirement, but it was surprisingly tasty.

And then I had another terrible day at school.

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I made myself feel better with the comforting remains of the cauliflower and cheese.

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She’s just watching it for me, to make sure nothing happens to it – she swears.

We went to Lucky Pie for dinner (for the $15 pizza and pitcher deal), but I forgot my camera.

What I didn’t forget was froyo.

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The don’t have a pumpkin pie flavor, which I’ve heard some places do. They did have caramel apple. I made this dish for me and Crockett.

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It was one quarter plain yogurt, one quarter caramel apple yogurt, one quarter coconut yogurt, and one quarter chocolate yogurt. It was topped with, respectively, chocolate chip cookie dough, nothing, flaked coconut and almonds, and chocolate sprinkles. And then there was some Captain Crunch on top of everything, at Crockett’s request.

I love build your own froyo.

it’s plum o’clock somewhere

Monday, October 3rd, 2011

Yesterday, there was salad.

buffalo chik'n salad

There was coffee.

coffee

A lot of coffee.

water fountain

There was a new drinking fountain (on what is possibly the ugliest wall ever) at the gym. See, there’s a water bottle filler thingy above the drink-from-here thingy! (I don’t know why someone hasn’t already hired me as official namer of things.)

 

ramen

There was ramen (Thai Kitchen Bangkok Curry).

There was homework.

There was Costco, and a trip to the mall to return two shirts to Banana Republic that ended with us leaving with two (different) shirts from Banana and two shirts from J Crew (not all mine, Crockett was with me).

Most importantly, though?

There was pizza.

plum and pork pizza

I realize this is not the most attractive pizza you’ve ever seen. Partially, that’s because I made my own dough and then froze it in a pizza shape, and during the baking process it stuck to the foil I baked it on. Every piece had to be flipped and peeled before it could be eaten.

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What it lacked in prettiness, it made up for in damn-that’s-tasty-ness.

Plum and Pulled Pork Pizza

More of a suggestion than a recipe, ok? As in, I suggest that the next time you have these ingredients on hand, this is what you do with them. The suggested qualities are per serving – I made a pizza big enough for the two of us, so I used twice as much of everything as listed.

Pulled pork – any recipe, about half a cup 
Plums – preferably large ones, so you don’t end up with a lot of peel, about 1/2 
Goat cheese – 1/3 cup
Mozzarella – 1/3 cup
Thyme – teaspoon, dry
Olive oil
Pizza dough (fresh, homemade, frozen – I suspect even Boboli would work here)

  1. Heat the oven to 450, with the pan you want to cook the pizza on inside.
  2. Using a mandoline or a sharp knife, slice the pitted plum(s) into 1/8 inch thick slices.
  3. Separate the pork into bite size strands and chunks.
  4. Mix together the goat cheese and mozzarella in a small bowl.
  5. Roll out whatever pizza dough you’re using. (You want to be able to transfer it, so think small rather than huge (or use whatever your regular pizza baking strategy is)).
  6. Smoosh the cheese mixture over the dough and sprinkle over the thyme. Lay out the plum slices, overlapping in places (they’ll shrink in the oven) and brush them with olive oil. It’s fine if some of the oil gets onto the cheese or dough. Evenly distribute the pork over the top.
  7. Bake for about 18 minutes. If the pork starts to burn, you can cover the top with foil. (Alternatively, bake the whole thing for 10 minutes and then pull it out and add the pork and stick it back in).
  8. Eat it.

It’s sweet, but savory. Cheese, but not too cheesy.

It may be my single favorite pizza I’ve ever made, and I’m terrified that Crockett is going to eat the leftovers before I get home.

IMG 2514

With it, I served this salad. I already had the mandoline out, I had brussels sprouts, I had a new chunk of romano cheese from Costco – I was all set. The only changes I made were to leave out the thyme and to use almonds instead of hazelnuts.

I’ve recently realized that hazelnuts always taste stale to me.

Even in Nutella.

With that blasphemy, I leave you for class.

Bye!

gift of the something-i

Monday, September 5th, 2011

Awkward.

So, good weekend?

Oh, wait, you’re still on your weekend?

Sometimes I hate my school.

I’m in class today.

I’m still trying to identify the perfect meal that I can eat while driving that will keep me sated until I get home from school at 2. Pluots and grape nuts are not it.

Yes, I could take lunch to school, but since I’m always in class, I’d end up eating it in the car on the way home, and I refuse to eat two meals a dat that way. It’s just not couth.

The college tried to pre-apologize for today by throwing us a fair on Friday, but it was only during the hours that I was otherwise engaged. Watching it get set up was all I managed.

Apology not accepted.

This is why I like to eat lunch at home. Fresh foods.

Fresh, briny foods.

Pickles, pickled beets, olives, and cucumber and tomato salad with feta.

Apparently I felt the need for salt.

Three facts about these egg roll looking things.

  1. I don’t remember which day I made them
  2. They weren’t very good.
  3. They were actually perogies.

See? Potatoes and cheese and onions.

I think if I’d fried them they would have been delicious.

But I don’t fry things.

Oil everywhere.

Not my thing. 

One thing that I made that I liked and Crockett didn’t was pizza on zucchini and sweet potato fries (from this recipe, which didn’t turn out quite as hoped but were still damn good). Again, would they have been better fried? Of course. But I don’t fry.

One thing that made us both happy was bagels, from Cafe de Paris downtown.

One egg and green chili and one tomato, mozzarella, and pesto. Split down the middle.

Happy breakfast to us.

(My dad was there too but his bagel was fuzzy. Not my photography – his bagel. Fuzzy.)

 

bye-bye beach

Wednesday, August 17th, 2011

It’s Tuesday.

    These pictures are from last Wednesday, because last Wednesday is that last time I had internet access.

    That’s how the Upper Peninsula of Michigan rolls.

    There are four things one can do while on vacation without violating Emma’s Law of Vacay.

    • Eat.
    • Rest (this includes sleeping at night, napping during the day, and laying around staring at the water).
    • Talk (loved ones, strangers, everyone in between – go for it).
    • Read.

    On Wednesday I had a day packed full of all of the above. Every single relative of Crockett’s, on meeting me, shoved books into my hands. I left the house last week with three, read two in the airports and planes, and arrived home with 10 – the original three, two from his grandparents, one from his dad, two from his uncle, and two from his aunt.

    That’s a lotta books.

    Oh, I forgot something you’re allowed to do on vacation: CELEBRATE! Crockett has two nieces and three nephews, and two of the five have the same birthday. (Is this a really number heavy post? It’s all those books.)

    When we visited the Escanaba park, I zoomed over to the stand I’d seen while running the day before.

    Gram’s Pasties in the Park.

    PASTIES in the PARK, people.

    This? This is a pasty. Pasties are all over the damn place in Michigan. Like, ALL over. I actually knew what one was, theoretically. My understanding was that pasties were essentially meat turnovers for British working people – an old school Lunchable, basically. A traditional Cornish pasty is made from beef, swede (a sweet root), potatoes, and onions. In the UP, the swede is replaced by rutabaga, and you can order your pasty with or without said rutabaga.

    Everyone said use a LOT of ketchup…

    And then sat around watching me take a bite.

    I didn’t adore it. It was a tasty vehicle for the ketchup, but that’s about it. However, the local experts told me that it wasn’t a good sample – I really needed to wait until the church ladies did their thing. Hopefully when that happens, Crockett’s grandma (behind me offering lots of advice on the eating) will mail me one?

    Fortunately we had pizza:

    (Domino’s Pizza started in Michigan, so this totally counts as eating local).

    I had a slice of buffalo chicken pizza that may have permanently altered how I think about Dominos. It was that good, people.

    Also? Cake:

    I didn’t get a picture before it was sliced, but since it was for a birthday boy and a birthday girl who were three years apart in age, they went with the adorable and always relevant surfing Mickey and Minnie. So cute. Soooo much frosting.

    After dinner there was a free concert in the park. Every Wednesday the town band does what, based on my experience, seems to be whole bunch of awesome cover medleys.

    Escanaba is a happening town full of happening people.

    After the show, we headed back to our beachside motel to get ready for an early start on Thurs – the start of Reunion 2.0.