The Muscles from Brussles

Oh hi.

The wife is engaging in a less-carbs excursion, which I have been acquiescing through by hoarding pizza crusts and the ubiquitous Philadelphia $.65 pretzels during my lunch breaks at work. Secretly, though, I am a little delighted at the chance to avoid the "Oh I guess we'll have pasta/rice/potatoes for dinner again" snare and focus on creating meals around simple vegetable and meat combinations that people with $50 a week grocery budgets don't often try. It turns out that, by the pound, Philadelphia soft pretzels may be the cheapest food on the planet. Conversely, a pound of, say, Brussels sprouts, runs around $3.50 at the neighborhood Whole Foods.

But I took those Brussels sprouts, confident that I could make them palatable. Normally my confidence in my own culinary abilities results in disappointment. However, I have unraveled the mystery of the tiny cabbage that, when prepared by every suburban American mother, tastes like a bitter fart.

It has been long established that bacon makes everything wonderful, and the subtle sweetness of butternut squash can go a long way in counteracting the sprout in the way its potatoey texture covers the mouth. So, below, you have my recipe for a Roasted Brussels Sprouts and Butternut Squash with Cherry-concord syrup:

Quarter 1/4 lb. brussels sprouts and rinse them off
Cube 1/4 lb. butternut squash into 1" pieces
Chop 3 oz bacon
Put all of this in a pan and roast at 350º F for about an hour and a half.

Meanwhile, I crisped up some chicken skin in hot olive oil and salt until it was golden brown and easily breakable.

Toward the end of the roasting time, I began to reduce 2 tbsp. of Fabri Cherry syrup (available for a ludicrous price at Williams-Sonoma, but a little goes a long way) and 1/4 cup of Concord Wine. Any sweet red wine would be fine, and there are tons of recipes for dried cherry sauce that would be ample substitutes, but I had fabri cherry syrup and dag blastit I was gonna use it. This was reduced in the rendered chicken fat with a bit of butter to thicken it up some more, until it was a dark red syrup.

After the veggies are finished roasting, place on a plate with a crisp of chicken skin and drizzle everything with about 1 1/2 tbsp per plate. Serves 2. Easily the best brussles sprouts I have ever tasted, although I don't think all the salty/sweet combinations in the world can mask the unmistakable post Brussles Sprouts burps.

Disasters in Ice Cream II: Crisis Averted

I got an ice cream maker with the express intention of making ice cream all the freaking time, spending my days and nights dreaming up new flavors that would leave the likes of Baskin and Robbins showering me with accolades. Although I created lots of theoretical ice creams (Nut Brown Ale Prailene, S'more, Ginger Ale) I hadn't actually exercised any creativity with the machine yet, opting instead to stick with recipes until I figured out the logistics of the little bugger.

Last night, though, the kitchen inspiration we all aspire to was given a chance to shine. What started as a simple attempt to make a custard based cheesecake ice cream quickly devolved into a scrambled egg protein shake (lesson learned: whisk harder when mixing boiling milk into cold egg yolks). Thankfully the sink was hungry for some of that sugary egg curd action. Even more thankfully I had a tub of mascarpone hiding in my fridge waiting for her moment to shine.

I learned from Alton Brown that sugar+food processor=superfine sugar. Alton Brown has a habit of explaining the obvious in a way that does not make you feel dumb for not previously realizing that something like superfine sugar could be created by grinding sugar until it was more fine. I thank Alton Brown for that, because superfine sugar makes cold-based desserts much easier to create.

I added 2/3 cup fine sugar to about a pint of strawberries and throwing it all into the processor until it was a fine juicy paste. Then the addition of a cup of half and half and the tub of mascarpone made the 'cream' part possible. I could have stirred the cream and mascarpone together until it was the same consistency, but I didn't and I will pretend that was on purpose. Stirring all the ingredients together at once meant the mascarpone didn't get a chance to break down totally, leaving light little chunks of the cheese in the finished product to help cut through some of the sweetness.

I finally added crumbled up Graham cookies which I had made earlier from a mix. Certainly just regular graham crackers would work although the extra butter from the cookies makes everything that much tastier. Throw it all in the ice cream machine and in an hour I had delicious strawberry graham ice cream. Lighter than custard based creams, it was remarkably pink. This was a relief because I had feared the graham crumbs would give a grey color, and no one wants that.

So my first improvised ice cream turned out to be wonderful when served fresh. I have a feeling it will be a little less great when the strawberry has sat in the freezer for a day, but let us hope the cream helps avert another disaster in ice cream.

Disasters in Ice Cream

When your custard smells like scrambled eggs it is no good for anybody D:

Birthday Dinner Menu

here is the menu for Lucy's birthday dinner. Let's see what it looks like come Sunday.
also guys lamb is way expensive.

Eggplant Caviar, Tuscan White Bean,
Neopolitan, and Tomato Bruschetta with Crostini

Cream of Asparagus
With Seared Sea Scallops

Spinach Ricotta Wonton Ravioli
with Walnut Cream Sauce

Braised Rack of Lamb with Mint-Basil Pesto

Birthday Sundae
Molten Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Mascarpone Ice Cream
and Strawberry Sauce topped with Cointreau Whipped Cream
and imported Fabri Cherry

Birthday Dinner Challenge, Day One

My wife's birthday is on Monday and I have been given the task of preparing her a birthday dinner on Sunday. We're looking at multiple courses, bottles of wine, hours of preparation, things I've never done before. Who knows what those things will be, though, as I have no menu.

I checked the new Mario Batali cookbook out of the library to get some ideas, and in the process made fettucini carbonara for dinner tonight, but I'm a little wary of 'cuttlefish with chickpeas.' The wife looked through the book and said it all sounded good to her, but I know secretly she wants me to recreate a ravioli she had over our honeymoon. I've never made pasta before, much less ravioli. That shit is crazy.

I will certainly be hitting up Wegman's to see if they have any specials on game hens or something. Last time I did that I ended up spending like $30 on one meal featuring a cheese plate that smelled like burning tires driving through a peat bog and salmon that was straight from TGI Fridays in Des Moines.

So what will she get? Steak au Poivre with blanched asparagus under shallot foam? Short ribs cooked in wine more expensive than my entire wardrobe? Waffles?

I'm not sure but I aim to find out.

Adventures in Corn Pt. I: Polenta.

Corn isn't the perfect foodstuff by any means, but it is indispensible. Just thinking about it makes me patriotic. I can imagine Italians and French and English just sitting around eating dirt because they don't know what's what and then some dudes on a boat say 'Hey we got this from the savages' and holding up a bunch of corn and then immediately food is invented and everybody wants to go to America because that is where the action is.

I grew up with the American South staples at the table, and cornmeal is one of those things that just belongs in the pantry. However I rarely broke my cornmeal out to give it its rightful place on the dinner table, mostly I used it to dust pizza stones and provide dust protection for the boxes of cornbread mix behind it. This is a situation that had to be remedied, and what better way to start an Adventure in Corn than with the most basic cornmeal dish one can prepare: polenta.

Polenta is the classy Italian Restaurant name for boiled cornmeal. You may see it at that fancy eatery where it accompanies a $30 short rib medly, and that is because restaurants really think it is hilarious when people pay $30 for a dish where the side cost about $0.15 to prepare enough for 50 people. This is why Mario Batali is so happy and snide looking.

Making polenta isn't as simple as cooking pasta, though. You gotta stir the cornmeal into cold water first before adding the boiling water so it doesn't get all clumpy and then basically heat the stuff for half an hour, stirring the entire time until your muscles feel as though you have been throwing baseballs all day. Basically all the water will boil out and the cornmush will burp and erupt frequently like a landscape of scalding quicksand gyesers. The substance will start creeping up your wooden spoon and you will think it is an alien symbiote and you will turn into Corn Spiderman but really the polenta just wants to get to know you a little. Be friendly with it but don't hesitate to let it know you will eat it if it acts a fool.

In the end the mush is thick as very thick goo. This is when you realize boiled cornmush will be gross by itself and you add some butter and parmesean cheese or whatever. Maybe a little hot sauce would be a good idea too.

The thing about polenta is it is neither a liquid nor a solid, and foods like that are gross if you think about them. So eat it while it is hot before it tries to turn into a pasta brick. Put some tomato sauce on it, people will think that is ok.

Dance to the Italian Underground -or- Makes You Want to Cook Like a Teenager

Menu-
French Bread
Broccoli Salad
Castellane with Sweet Italian Sausage Marinara
LCD Soundsystem- Sound of Silver

Seems like everyone talks about that scene in 'GoodFellas' where all America's mobster character actors are in jail together cooking sauce, what with the slicing garlic with a razor like so many lines of coke and the lengthy monologues. I can't cut garlic or coke like that cuz I got no mob roots.

But I've got that boyish Ray Liotta enthusiasm and naivetie, so why not attempt a pasta sauce. Plus, I have had an italian sausage hankerin going down at a spiritual level for some time now. What choice do I have?

LCD Soundsystem's new album 'Sound of Silver' is what will inform my enthusiasm through this process. I'm hopeful the end result will have me remembering the album the way wide-eyed american teens relate Bon Jovi albums to backseat fumbling sessions.

Cutting up onions, garlic, and orange bell pepper to 'Get Innocuous' and everything is off to a good start. I've already made the mistake of trying to chop the onions with a pairing knife, showing classic 'maybe i'm not ready for this next step' signs. I'm fumbling like the beginning of the song, but soon I'm in my groove, santoku and drum machine pounding rhythmically until into the pot go the vegetables. They sweat over low heat just as I do, glowing translucent by 'North American Scum' and I'm dancing excitedly.

I squeeze the sausage out of the casing because the sausage casing brings me no joy. It browns to the tune of 'Us vs Them' until it wiggles excitedly then it too goes into the pot with the veggies and a can of tomatoes. The Mrs. isn't a big fan of chunky vegetables so I bring out the immersion blender, which clogs under the strain of so many large meaty chunks. Thankfully the music keeps my mood high.

Seasoning takes some finessing, this is the part I won't perfect until many more trials. Salt, sugar, basil, nutmeg, crushed red pepper. Half a cup of Chardonnay. Stir stir stir. Eventually it is out of my hands, time to simmer for a few hours and let the flavors meld. If I did it right the sweet meaty flavor of the sausage will blend with the acid of the tomatoes and the seasonings will balance it all out. If not, I'll sing along to 'New York I Love You' and break up with tomato sauce until I realize I can't stay mad forever and I have no choice but to go back to it.