Friday, September 30, 2011

all I've got.

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I've got nothing this week. I really like to post every week, but right now, I'm a little busy wondering if anyone has seen September? Because the only evidence I've seen that it even happened is the fact that underneath my desk the floor is littered with stems from Macintosh apples.

So I'm doing a total cop out post. A picture of a sunset. Imagine we are looking out at it together, talking about how bitchin' life is. Until then, it's all I've got.

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Friday, September 23, 2011

very last few drops

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Today is the first day of fall. Although the weather feels a little bit more like a damp August day right now. It will catch up. Last weekend we squeezed the very last few drops out of summer with baked stuffed lobsters at Michelle's house.

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It was a total feast with three different, delicious appetizers including some fried green tomatoes that I will be thinking about until next summer comes. I made dessert and I knew since we were having such a rich meal that something with fruit- a little teensy, tiny bit lighter, would do the trick.

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This wasn't all that light, but it was so simple and pretty, I thought I would share it. Next time I would use challah bread or a nice brioche. My grocery store didn't have either, so I bought this thick, sweet, cinnamon swirl toast that is perfect for French toast, but it turned out, a little dry for this particular recipe.

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If you like the specifics, the original recipe can be found here. But it's one of those things that's very simple to explain. Simmer some ripe berries with sugar and a little water for 10 minutes, until saucy.


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While that simmers, slice your brioche or challah into 1 inch thick slices; lightly butter each side and sprinkle with a little cinnamon/sugar. Once the sauce is done, spoon onto a springform pan that has been fully lined with saran wrap.

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Squish the bread in, then layer more fruit, then more bread, then more fruit. Three layers get wrapped over with the saran wrap and weighed down so the bread stays saturated with one or two plates. Refrigerate for 2-24 hours and serve with lightly sweetened whipped cream.

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It was a very, very, very good summer. We certainly got the most out of it. Now it's fall and time to excited about boots and pumpkin flavored anything and red wine and eating soup. Happy first day.

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Friday, September 16, 2011

a certified hit

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For a long time when I was little my older brother was determined to make me into an athlete. I was, to put it gently, a bit stocky, so I think that he hoped that underneath my dense build was the muscular core of a star athlete in training. Also, I think even though I had been born a girl he was optimistic he could partake in traditional little brother/big brother activities with me. As a result it was him, not my parents, that would wake up early on Saturday mornings and take me to my youth basketball games, blaring House of Pain to get me pumped up. And it was him, not my dad (who was more comfortable with an airbrush in his hand then a baseball mitt) who coached my youth softball team.

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Unfortunately, all the Celtic rap and brotherly support in the world couldn’t help the fact that the only sports related move I had mastered by adolescence was getting the wind knocked out of me. I spent more time in the dugout sullenly nursing injuries and offering to go on runs to the snack bar for Freeze Pops then I did making victory laps around the bases. The religious fervor with which I would pray to not get any pop flies hit in my direction while tending right field, rivaled the most devout pilgrims.

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So competitive in the athletic sense I’m not, but when it comes to bringing a dish to a party, there's part of me that wants, well, to win. “Win” in this sense means, see most, or all, of it devoured and garner at least 3 or more accolades from various party goers. Is that sick? Admit it, we all want to win in our small ways every once in a while.

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I saw these little baby Nilla Banana sandwiches all over Pinterest a couple weeks back. Since, as a society, we are predestined to adore and covet all things miniature (see also: babies, puppies, minihorses, sliders, etc.) I oohed and aahed over them along with the general public. Saturday night as I was drifting off to sleep wondering what I should bring to my bestie, Erica’s housewarming party, I thought, “what if I made those tiny banana sandwiches and dipped them in chocolate?” Unathletic I may be, but I’ve always been pretty smart when it comes to snacks.

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CHOCOLATE DIPPED NILLNANA SANDWICHES

One box Nilla wafers
About 4-5 ripe bananas
1 bag semi sweet chocolate chips

Parchment paper

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Slice bananas and sandwich between two Nilla wafers. Gently squeeze, so they will stick to each side of your banana slice. You could stop there, but I went one step further and dipped them in chocolate. Once you have sandwiched all your banana slices set out two cookie sheets and line them with parchment paper. In a microwave safe bowl, heat the chocolate chips on high, for 30 seconds at a time, removing the bowl from the microwave between spurts and stirring well with a fork to distribute the heat; continue this process until the chocolate is smooth and dip-able. I think total I probably heated mine for almost 3 minutes, maybe 3 ½. One by one, dip the tiny sandwiches in the chocolate and set on the parchment paper to cool. Bring to a party, collect accolades.

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Throughout the party on Sunday, I beamed silently with delight as I saw plates of my snacks get carried out of the kitchen and delivered to Erica’s grandmother and various other family members. You know it’s good when people are packing them away before the grill has even been sparked. I had a certified hit on my hands, no ice packs necessary. These are so easy it almost feels like a joke to share them as a “recipe” but trust: they are a huge crowd pleaser. Next time I’m adding peanut butter in between and also, maybe dipping them in coconut.

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Friday, September 9, 2011

worth working for

I figured that cooking lobsters was about as difficult as cooking corn. Boil water, add food product, allow to cook, drench with butter, eat. Turns out, not so much. I had truly underestimated the amount of work that goes into a lobster dinner. Be prepared; have back up, plenty of wine and a sense of humor. I hosted the families for lobsters Monday night to celebrate Paul’s birthday and these are the nuggets of knowledge I picked up:

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After you let the lobsters out of the bag to crawl around on your deck, you will feel acutely more like a murderer. I thought I was alone in my pre-murderous guilt when Paul came in the kitchen and said “jeez, after seeing them crawl around like that I feel kind of sad about eating them now.” I mean how often do you see your food live right before you eat it? We get it Michael Pollan. Don’t worry though; somewhere around the time you melt 2 pounds of butter to dip them in you will get your appetite back.

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It might be slightly less work if you get normal sized lobsters. The guys we got were mammoth two pounders and wrangling them into and out of the giant lobster steamer I borrowed from my aunt took muscles. My muscles were out of shape because I spent the week lifting nothing but dark and stormies to my mouth and then eating and sunning myself at the beach and then eating, sunning myself at the beach and drinking dark and stormies. Lather, rinse, repeat. It was an excellent vacation.

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Have some man power available. Getting these men into the steamer you need three people: two to hold the beasts at the ready and one to cut the rubber bands off their claws before they meet their maker. Put them into the steamer head down (the “humane” way), close the lid, wince with guilt, and then melt some butter (the guilt melts with the butter, see above), set out some cookie sheets and dish towels to transfer the steamed beasts to when they’re done.

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So when are they done? I could not tell you for the life of me how long it takes to steam giant beasts like the lobsters we got, because my mother, the Fish Whisperer, kept saying “my nose will know when they’re done.” and I was like “er, are you sure your nose is working, because from my view it’s buried in a glass of Pinot Noir?” (said under my breath of course, because I wasn’t about to alienate my sous chef when I needed her most and man, did she come in handy).

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Less is more when it comes to how much water you put in the bottom of your steamer. I stupidly thought that I would want to fill it up as much as possible because I was worried it would all evaporate. But it’s a steamer, not an open topped pot. Also, lobsters purge some liquid as they start to cook and the bottom of your steamer will start to bubble salt water all over your range if it’s overly filled. This minor crisis will result in a quick show of muscles as you wrangle the top of the steamer off (with the giant lobsters in it), place it to the side, take the water vessel- which is brimming with melt-your-skin-off-hot sea water- very carefully and quickly to your kitchen sink, and ditch more than half of it. Just a hint, if you can: avoid this. Only fill the bottom of your lobster pot about 1/3 of the way. I felt like I was on an episode of Family Double Dare, only instead of getting green Jello on me, I was risking melting the skin off my legs if I made one wrong move. And I worked really hard to get my legs tan, so I wasn’t about to cover them up with some stupid bandages.

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Keep everything else as dead simple as possible. Chowder which is already made by chowder making experts is the perfect appetizer; boiled corn goes on the side, crispy roasted potatoes can be made far ahead of time and left in a warm oven as an additional side dish. Have everyone serve themselves buffet style from the kitchen table and then take their plates (btw, buy the thick Chinet oblong plates they are sturdy and soak up lobster juice well) out onto the deck. If you don’t have a deck, eat on your lawn, or heck, on the freaking driveway. Whatever you do, don’t serve a lobster dinner inside of your house. We all ate outside and as it was, my kitchen reeked like a Gloucester loading dock until I fired up enough Nag Champa to resurrect Jerry Garcia and boiled a bunch of lemons. I can only shudder to think of what the funk would have been if we had wrestled our lobsters out of the shells INSIDE the house. Set up tables real casual-like on the deck (or driveway/sidewalk/lawn) have a couple bowls of drawn butter at the ready, a couple big mixing bowls for discarded shells and bring the trash bucket right outside and leave it behind your table. That way, when everybody is done, you can huck the trash right into the bag, tie it up and never let that stank back into your kitchen again.

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It’s work for sure, but most things worthwhile are worth working for and a lobster dinner for your boyfriend’s birthday is, in my book, totally one of those things. It’s also the perfect meal to end a summer in New England with. If you’re planning on undertaking this task, I would highly recommend having an experienced Fish Whisperer with you. I will rent my mom to you if you’d like. I’m not sure of her current fee, but I’d be willing to bet she’d do it for two bottles of Clos du Bois chardonnay and the rights to any and all leftover lobster meat.

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