sprouts

I am a woman obsessed. Not with wedding planning (ok, a little bit with wedding planning), but with Brussels sprouts. I seriously cannot get enough of them (or champagne) lately. We're talking "I'll eat them for two plus meals a day" level obsessed.

So when I went to a local restaurant (called Lincoln) with a friend last week, and we couldn't find space at the bar during happy hour, we got a regular table. Downside? No happy hour dishes/prices. Upside? One of my favorite Brussels sprouts dishes to date, which wasn't on their happy hour menu. 

I found myself craving those same sprouts earlier this week, and nothing other than the kind I had at Lincoln would do. While on the metro home, I searched recipe after recipe to try and find something similar to the cranberry apple vinaigrette Lincoln's sprouts were tossed in. I got increasingly frustrated, and realized I wasn't going to find some magical link saying "I'm the recipe Lincoln restaurant used. Click me!"

I did, however, find this recipe for roasted butternut squash with warm cider vinaigrette. I decided that, with some work, it could be tweaked to replicate the taste I wanted. It wasn't spot on, but, it was delicious (at dinner and again as leftovers), and earned SS's "yeah, this is blog-worthy" seal of approval. 

LKTC's Brussels Sprouts with Vinaigrette

• 1/2 to 1 pound of Brussels sprouts, cut in half length-wise and tossed in olive oil
• 2 TBS pine nuts
• 2 TBS thinly sliced shallots
• 3/4 cup cran-apple juice
• 2 TBS cider vinegar
• 2 tsp Dijon mustard
• dash of sugar
• 1/2 C olive oil
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp pepper

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. 
2. Roast Brussels sprouts for about half an hour on a cookie sheet or in a cake pan, occassionally tossing the pan.
3. Put pine nuts in a single layer in a shallow dish. Place in the oven and shake every few minutes until pine nuts are lightly toasted. 
4. Heat a small amount of olive oil in a small saucepan. Saute shallots until soft and translucent.
5. Add the juice and vinegar, and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. 
6. Cook for 6 to 8 minutes, until the cider is reduced to about 1/4 cup. 
7. Off the heat, whisk in the mustard, sugar, 1/2 cup olive oil, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon of pepper.
8. Toss sprouts, pine nuts, and vinaigrette together and serve. 

conference room cred

On my way into work yesterday, I grabbed not one, but two, vanilla-frosted donuts (my favorite flavor since childhood). It is possibly the worst thing I can think of (in the realm of diet) to have a donut shop right by the metro. That delicious smell wafting at you before you even walk in the building is practically impossible to resist, especially when you're starving and sleep deprived. 

Anyways, as I was inhaling the donuts, I apparently got icing on my face. Which no one told me. Of course this was right before I went in to a meeting full of people twice my age and triple my importance. I don't think it did much for my conference room cred, although it does explain why everyone watched with intent when I spoke.

The messy breakfast did as little for my expanding girth as it did for my credibility, which is a shame, because SS and I have really been focusing on cooking healthy stuff instead of spending money eating out (which is usually synonymous with eating poorly, at least for me). But in the past week or two, I've been resisting that culinary pursuit not just because I'm a bit lazy (although I am), but also because the LKTC is sweltering in the dead of winter, so you can imagine what it feels like during a 100 degree heat wave (which we are currently in the midst of in DC). 

Luckily, this smoky Spanish-style roasted shrimp dish requires a mere 30 to 45 minutes in the oven, and you only have to dart back in to the boiling-hot kitchen twice to throw things into the pan. If you do all your (easy) prep work before you turn on the oven, you can actually emerge with a tasty, quick meal, and no need to take a pre-dinner shower. And it tastes great with cold beer, which will go a long way in helping you forget frosting-face debacles.  

Another good thing about finally cooking? Getting to use one of my beautiful birthday platters from Sophie!

repeat offenders

I could have sworn I've made Williams-Sonoma's spring vegetable risotto recipe more than once, but the only evidence I can find is my first stab at it, which was nearly a year ago. Although I'm sure I've made it since then, the lack of substantive evidence to the contrary out here on the interwebs makes me feel at least a little better about not trying something new. Anyways...

long weekend at the lake

My sanity-restoring trip home started out not-so-sanity-tastic. The bus I took from DC to NC got caught in two separate traffic jams, one just a few miles from the final destination, featured a busted AC system, and was transporting myself as well as a family reunion and a gaggle of squealing teenage girls. By the time I got in Mom's car at the bus station, I was in desperate need of the wine she had stashed in a tote bag to take to the hair appointment for which I was now an hour late. By the time we got to the salon, I had calmed down a bit, but I had already decided that was the end of my MegaBus stint. At least for any trip in the eight hour time range. 

Torturous bus ride behind me, it was a whirlwind, but restorative trip. I picked up several things to further decorate my apartment (photos to come, if you're at all interested), squeezed in some shopping time with my mom and sister, helped my dad get his classroom ready, and enjoyed a perfect lazy Sunday afternoon on the lake with our Charlotte family. After several hours of zipping across the lake and putting down anchor to swim, we headed back to the house for a little cookout. 

In preparation for the cookout, mom and I planned to serve all sorts of things, some of which we decided to make ourselves, others we decided were best thrown together by the local Fresh Market. Because we were fitting food prep in with my ambitious "I only shop when I go home so we gotta make this trip count" mantra, we started the prep work Saturday evening after a long day of errands but before a late dinner at a locally famous Italian restaurant.   

 

I'm not sure if we were tired or distracted or what, but I made all sorts of disaster Saturday night. It all started when I looked away for a second, A SECOND, I tell you, and in that moment, the peach simple syrup (for boozey popsicles) that had been bubbling away boiled over and coated the stove top in a sickeningly burned mass of goo. Once the syrup finished its cooking process on the clean side of the stove, as we started cleaning the afflicted side, we managed to throw the grate off of the stove and into the little receptacle between the stove and the cabinet. Oops. 

Then, when it came time to mix tonic with the rest of the boozey popsicle ingredients, the tonic exploded all over me and the rest of the kitchen. Our feet stuck to the floor all weekend, despite our best efforts to wipe it all up. As I whipped up the layers for chocolate peanut butter squares, we had several near-disasters, and decided to shelve plans to make lemon bars from scratch, lest we burn the kitchen down at the rate we were going. 

Not one to be easily dissuaded from baking something from scratch, I woke up the next morning determined to make the lemon bars. Mom pitched in by juicing a billion lemons and grating their rinds. At which point her knuckles fell victim to the cheese grater we were using to get the zest. At that point we decided to just give up and buy everything else. Well, everything else except the fixings for my favorite summer corn dish: roasted corn with lime from Bon Appetit. But I've made that so often I can practically do it with my eyes closed (which I've realized is a good skill to have when dicing several jalapenos, mind you). Cooking disasters aside, everything turned out really well, from boozey boat snack popsicles to roasted corn to dessert. Here's the recipe roundup:

• Bon Appetit's Roasted Corn with Lime
• Endless Simmer's Strawberry Peach Vodka Popsicles (note: not sure what crazy person wrote the simple syrup part, but four peaches yield way, way more than half a cup of sliced peaches...adjust accordingly...)
• Metrocurean's Chocolate Peanut Butter Squares
• Cooking Light's Lemon Squares (so, I don't really like lemon squares, but, the crust on these is amazing! trust the recipe, and go for it)

And no, I do not have a single photo other than the above evidence of my nearly ruining my parents' stove. Sometimes you're just enjoying yourself too much to bother taking pictures!       

winging it

Funny things happen when you're broke and lazy. And by funny, I mean kind of sad. You force yourself to leave a perfectly awesome happy hour after a few drinks to trek home through the torrential rain so you can eat a free meal. You try to make your own caramel instead of using prepackaged squares because the local grocery didn't have them. You make your own coconut milk.


Last night, I left a particularly stressful class (in which we discussed our final exam, which is a mere six days from today...), and the entire walk home, all I could think about was how badly I wanted Thai food. Specifically some sort of red curry. And how I really, really did not want to cook it myself. But, I've been spending far too much lately, especially on food, so I had settled on making my go-to quick dinner: pasta with peas and corn. Snooze. 


As the water for pasta was boiling, I decided I should at least give curry a shot, but a quick rustling through my pantry turned up exactly zero cans of coconut milk. I did, however, have some rice milk in the fridge and a bag of coconut flakes in the pantry. Worth a shot, I decided. If it failed, I'd already be halfway to my usual dinner. 


Surprisingly, it was a total success! If you also are craving curry, lacking in coconut milk, and happen to have milk and coconut flakes on hand, a quick simmer/steep/strain process will get you a totally curry-worthy ingredient!

Ok, so maybe if you're more skilled in the kitchen, this isn't a super-exciting discovery, but I was thrilled, and yes, a little surprised, it worked. To the freshly minted coconut milk, I added a couple of teaspoons of curry paste, a few drops of oyster sauce, and a couple dashes of brown sugar. I threw in (cooked) vermicelli and spinach. It was no Thai take-out, but, it hit the spot for $0 instead of the $20 the takeout would've taken me. And unlike the caramel fail, it didn't leave me wanting to chuck food across my (tiny) kitchen.      

And now that I've gotten that little burst of enthusiasm out of my system, back to my thrilling day of caffeinating to make it through the sprint to next Monday, when the report I work on goes to press, and I take my final exam. (A week from today will basically be the best day of my summer, is what I'm saying, because I will a)sleep in, b)finally take a deep breath and relax completely) 

happy birthday, america!

Last night around 9:15, it finally got dark, the whole city got quiet, and the sky was illuminated by the annual DC fireworks.  It was a very heart-swelling, "I love this city," moment, which, I realized with some surprise, was my third time feeling that way, as I've now passed three consecutive July 4ths here. The whole thing was a bit nostalgia-inducing, as holidays tend to be, and I couldn't help but think of everything that's changed in my life since the 4th last year, and of all the amazing places I've spent the day in the past. But enough of that, here are some fun pictures. And later on, a little bit about how I spent the day, which, surprise!, I actually got to take off (I genuinely thought I'd be at work). 

fortunately these clouds held no fireworks-dampening rain

really cool timing - big old orange moon rising + fireworks

fireworks launching + moon rising (again)

 
So anyways, when I realized I'd thankfully have the day off, I decided to turn down my sweet friend's invitation to her pool and to stick close to home to avoid the obscene heat. Ever incapable of relaxing for long, I found myself in the LKTC (despite the 90+ degree temps).  A friend who lives a few minutes away also didn't have fireworks-viewing plans, so she said she and her boyfriend would drop by for the show, and for an impromptu dinner.


I started with these champagne jello shots that she suggested I make for our little last-minute celebration. When I made it to the grocery, they didn't have any pineapple jello (or jalapenos or mint leaves or...), so I went with strawberry instead and popped a few slices of pineapple and a few slices of strawberry in my mish mash of shot glasses.  I tried one them with my breakfast to make sure they were ok (don't judge...you have a mimosa with brunch every so often, right? ok then). They were pretty tasty! They only have about half a bottle of champagne among all the shot glasses, so they're pretty harmless. 

the saddest little jalapeno I ever did see (but was the one and only jalapeno at both Whole Foods and Safeway...)

strawberry champagne jello shots with pineapple and strawberry slices

Once the jello was setting, I threw corn in the oven for one of my favorite repeat offender recipes, roasted corn with lime (as seen here and here). I have to say, this time around I decided to supplement the roast corn with cooked frozen corn, and I honestly couldn't tell the difference, although maybe my palate is just highly unrefined. Point is, I think you can get away with not heating your oven up to 450 F on a 98 degree day, and just use frozen corn. 


While it cooled, I got everything ready for a make your own rotisserie chicken platter. I take exactly zero credit for this, as the chicken came already-roasted from the store. I can handle 15 minutes of oven time for corn, but a couple hours for a chicken? Yeah, it's just too toasty for that. 


Although the champagne jello shots were festively colored, I still felt like we needed an "American as apple pie" type dessert (that didn't actually involve apple pie being baked in my oven). Enter peach ice cream. I shouldn't even admit this, but I used frozen peaches. The peaches at my local grocery store were rock-hard, and I figured frozen was better than un-ripe. We ended up too stuffed to eat the ice cream, but I did sample it, and I could barely taste the peach flavor. Maybe I should've gone with the un-ripe but un-frozen peaches...


After all that cooking, I got some "life-stuff" done. I did the dishes, painted my nails a festive red, cleaned my apartment, and worked on my paper for class. I know, I know. Try to contain your jealousy at that line-up. Such a glamorous life I lead... But knowing that I'm heading in to a crazy three or four weeks at work and in class, it was honestly nice to just stick around the apartment and get things done. 

a bit sticky, but relieved at the lack of rain!

I'm happy to report that the weather cooperated, and we were treated to an amazing show, minus the headache of the crowds on the Mall. There really is nothing like celebrating the 4th in the nation's capital, and I'm glad I stayed in town this year for the holiday. Happiest birthday, America!

the anti-bbq

What better timing could I ask for than to share a birthday with a long holiday weekend every year? While I'm not off at the beach or the lake, I'm enjoying a little staycation in DC, full of random things like a new favorite cookie recipe, concerts by the water, furniture painting, pool time, and cookouts with friends. If I can't be celebrating with my family at the OBKB lodge, I think this is a pretty good back up series of festive events. And, I kind of feel like they're here in spirit since they so sweetly sent a dozen cupcakes for me to enjoy with my friends this weekend!  

I'm sure you're all equally occupied with inaugural summer activities, so here's quick little red curry recipe to whip up when you've tired of burgers and beer. Actually, it goes pretty well with beer. 


Anyways, I started with this recipe, but ended up just adding enough curry paste and coconut milk until I liked the taste and consistency. I tossed in red peppers, carrots, and green beans as the sauce was simmering, and ultimately mixed it all together with basmati rice and some fried tofu. It doesn't have the same complex flavors of restaurant curry, but it's a perfect quick weeknight concoction for when you're short of time (and funds).


Happy Memorial Day to all of you (and happy birthday weekend to me)!     

"long live broc"

For reasons I'm totally unclear on, I intentionally bought red meat for the first time in maybe nine months. I blame this on two things: one, I always get overwhelmed at the grocery and feel compelled to buy the most random, nonsensical things; two, I wandered in to the Safeway near my apartment in a haze of extreme exhaustion this past weekend. So the meat was tossed in my shopping basket along with one russet potato, a toilet brush, and some Ben and Jerry's (seriously, grocery stores of America, please stop putting ice cream on sale. I have no willpower, and my hips blame you when my pants don't fit, ok?). 

Anyways, I suddenly found myself too exhausted to cook said red meat over the weekend, meaning it had a date with destiny (aka a toasty skillet) for Monday dinner. I was too busy yesterday to figure out how exactly it would meet its ultimate end, so when I got home, I headed over to one of my standby sources: Dinner A Love Story. After cruising through their recipe index, I settled on a beef and broccoli stir fry dish that seemed simple enough, and was comprised almost entirely of ingredients I already had. Nevermind that it instructed the preparer to chill the steak in the marinade for two hours. I figured something just shy of the prescribed time wouldn't be a total show stopper.

And I'm so glad I decided just go for it, and to dash back to Safeway (for probably the bazillionth day in a row) and grab the sherry and sugar I was lacking. I made 1 1/2 times the prescribed marinade/sauce, because I like to have plenty of that to go around. I also added red and yellow bell peppers because, well, I felt like it. Being bold in the kitchen and all that. It was really, really "thank goodness I have enough leftover for lunch today" good!      

putting my new little ikea bowl into the dinner prep rotation



It's not that I think I'm that awful of a cook, it's just that I so rarely enjoy the food I prepare for some reason I have yet to successfully articulate. The same does not go, mind you, for the far less healthy baked goods I turn out. Nope, just the main meals. Which explains why I'm such a healthy person... 

But that is not the point. The point, friends, is that this is a perfect quick/easy/gratifying weeknight dinner. Sophie and I found, in fact, that it goes perfectly with a bottle of red, mindless tv, and that evil Ben and Jerry's.   

my sweatshirt recipe

Do you ever think about how things like onions and peppers can become a part of so many different meals? I know, I know, it's as profound as yesterday's gem on timing. I suppose it's right up there in culinary "lightbulb" moments like "oh yeah, I guess quality ingredients really do make a difference." Give me some credit, I'm still (kind of) new to this whole regular cooking thing. 

Anyways, I'm sure this isn't the very first time I've had the ingredient versatility thought, but it's the first time I felt compelled to articulate it. Lucky you, I know. The thought came to me as I was rummaging through my fridge and cabinets for the components of angry paella. I found myself dicing up the leftover onion and red pepper from last week's pad thai experiment and thinking "I'm being so economical!" You know, little pats on the back and all that. We'll ignore the fact that I got distracted from dinner prep by testing paint colors for upcoming stencil projects. Just focusing on the positives here.     

pardon my unusually careless handwriting. and my bottle of wine holding the whole experiment up.

I decided earlier yesterday afternoon that I wanted to make angry paella to use up the last of my arborio rice. The fewer things I have to pack at this point the better, considering I still haven't started that little chore. Angry paella isn't always made in anger, by the way. It just so happens that the first time I made it, I was angry, and the nickname stuck. 

So while yesterday I was not angry, I was tired and am facing the reality of imminent "homelessness." Or at the very least, a gap between when my current lease ends and when I can close on my new apartment. The details are peculiar, and I'm too drained to recount them right now, but at some point you'll hear plenty, I promise. Bottom line is, the bank has deemed me loan-worthy. My future building on the other hand, is not-so-loan worthy, it seems.  

Which brings me to how, aside from pantry emptying goals, I found myself making angry paella for dinner. You see, it's my sweatshirt recipe. You know how you come home from work and immediately ditch the real clothes in favor of leggins and an old sweatshirt? (That's not just me, right?). It may not be the most creative or attractive combo, but it's comfortable after a long, stressful day in heels and hose. The appeal isn't in the appearance, it's in the familiarity. And that's what angry paella is to me. 

I make it more from memory than from a recipe. I really only measure the rice, everything else happens by sight/feel. I always know just how it's going to taste. It always has just the right level of heat and the right touch of smokiness from the sprinkle of smoked paprika I started adding a while back. No matter in what country, or in whose apartment, I've made it, it has never let me down. So on a rainy, cold day full of stress, it's just what I need.

This is why I don't bother measuring things. I'm going to end up using as many peas as I feel like, and the measuring cup just gets in the way.

problems -> solutions

angry paella + what turned out to be a perfect syrah/malbec blend

And maybe the best part is, I have leftover paella for lunch (and wine for later, when mom descends on DC and we start figuring out what to do about this most recent real estate drama/dilemma). It's practically the next best thing to actually being able to wear my sweatshirt and leggins at work...

playing chicken

I think I'm normally a pretty risk-averse person. Snooze-worthy, I know. I chalk it, along with many of my other quirks, up to being the firstborn child. But this spring, I've strayed from my usually cautious ways. I went out on a limb and joined a new team at work, which has ultimately been rewarding, but is a pretty big departure from the comfortable, safe little work life I had with my old team. 

On the heels of that decision, I also took tangible, terrifying steps towards home ownership (mentioned briefly here). A logical part of my risk-averse nature is an inherent frugality, so while my monthly rent payment pains me, talking about purchasing things that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars makes me downright squirmy. 

But for many reasons, I decided it was time to take the leap of faith. It's been an extremely draining, oftentimes frustrating process, the details of which I may or may not eventually subject you to here. I've felt, for most of the time, like I'm playing chicken. 

See, the loan hasn't come through yet. And I'm due to close in less than 7 days. But I've already given notice of intent to vacate my current apartment. And hired movers. And daydreamed (again) about paint colors and DIY projects. And cringed (and drank a big glass of wine) when the real estate agent cashed my earnest money check. And requested that Pepco set up electricity. And...

So, that, coupled with 10+ hour days and weekends in the office, is really doing a number on my frugal, risk-averse tendencies. I know this because I now get regular emails from both my mother and my real estate agent assuring me that this is a)going to happen, b)a good thing. 

All of this hectic-ness, by the way, is how I found myself doing yet another out-of-character thing recently: cooking for stress relief. I'm forever trying to actually use the recipes I pin on Pinterest, and I had a rare weekday without post-work obligations. Enter chicken pad thai with peanuts and lime from this cool blog I randomly found (it's called Technicolor Kitchen, and the author reviews a movie and a recipe in one go).    

there's a lot of up-front chopping to be done, but, it otherwise comes together quickly

yum!

It's not so much that I enjoy prep work (or cooking), but, I do find them to be a perfect distraction from the extremely obnoxious little voice in my head that features a constant loop of nagging questions/worries (a la the news ticker on the ABC 7 building in Rosslyn) about this upcoming move/major life purchase.

I ended up tweaking the recipe a little bit, by the way, by subbing tofu for chicken, adding strips of red pepper, and leaving out the fish sauce (which I tend to loathe...with a passion). I put a couple drops of dark sesame oil and a dash of siracha in the sauce instead. Mine, as you will see when you look at my photo above, and the blogger's version below, came out looking, well, totally different. I'm not sure why hers is so much lighter in color, but, it tasted delicious, so, I'm not complaining!

no clue why Technicolor Kitchen's version and mine (above) look so different...

The next week and a half is going to be overwhelmingly busy, but, at some point I'll be back with more details on (and many photos of) the new digs!

peas (if you please)

After going on at length yesterday about my happy but accidental subscription to My Recipes' "dinner tonight" emails, I figured I might as well mention another success born out of the daily missives: herbed mashed peas. 

(courtesy of "my recipes")

Ok, I realize if you're anything like my mother, just the word "pea" made you stop reading. I personally didn't discover my love for peas (or whiskey, or country music) until I lived in Italy, and may've joined you pea-haters in turning up your noses at the notion of eating them in any form prior to that point. But now I devour them constantly, and while I can't figure out what led to this change of heart, the point is, you should give the little green guys a second chance.  I can't imagine my life sans peas (or whiskey, or country music) at this point!

I most often eat them covered in a little pesto or a dash of olive oil and fresh pepper, but was intrigued by this recipe for herbed mashed peas that landed in my inbox as March 16th's recipe. I didn't expect the execution of the side dish or the procurement of the supplies to be difficult. Luckily I was right on the actual preparation part, but unfortunately my normally trusty Trader Joe's failed me when it came to tarragon. It also had only very pricey salmon, so I reverted to chicken. And in my rush to get in and out before the dinner rush, I forgot to buy a lemon. 

So I had to also hit the nearby Whole Foods on my walk home for the tarragon and lemon, but considering it's maybe 2 blocks from TJ's, and on my direct route to my apartment, it wasn't a huge inconvenience. 

In retrospect, I wish I hadn't been able to find the tarragon or lemon at all. In my culinary ignorance, I didn't realize tarragon has a distinctly licorice flavor, which is so not my cup of tea. I would've stuck with just the prescribed basil, maybe upping the quantity, and skipped the tarragon altogether. I also think the suggested 2 tablespoons of lemon juice was too much. I don't think the lemon flavor is totally out of place, but in our peas, it was just too strong. Lessons learned: 1)tarragon is icky, and 2)don't dump all the acid in at once, test your peas first!

Tarragon and lemon diatribes aside, Sophie and I still liked the mashed peas. They were a nice change from rice or potatoes, which I feel like I make too often. But the best part was how easy they were to make. I may or may not have struggled to cut the leek at first, but that little road block was quickly vanquished by a switch from my chef's knife to a paring knife. From there, smooth (and rapid) sailing.  

I have happy hours the next few days (and a busy weekend ahead), so I won't have a chance to try any more daily dinner recipes this week, but maybe next week I'll manage to strike a better home cooking/happy hour balance...     

nostalgia wednesdays: winter

It's a gorgeous, amazing, blissful 62 degrees and sunny right now, and predicted to climb to the high sixties again tomorrow. I walked to and from mass with my boss, and even though we went nearly half a mile out of our way by accident, it was the perfect day for the adventure. I can't wait for happy hour on a patio somewhere later on today. 

I'd say 99.5% of the time this "winter," I've been thrilled with the weather. I absolutely hate being cold, and find snow to be magical only until it becomes dirty and dingy and hinders my commute to and from work (spoiler alert: that happens really quickly).

But I have to say that a tiny part of me is nostalgic for real winter. This is the season when you're supposed to pull on a pair of cute rain boots and go sledding with your neighbors on an unexpected snow day...

Or when you're supposed to venture out in a historic snow storm in search of gelato with your roomate...

Stopping along the way to yank arm-sized icicles off buildings and climb to the top of tree-height snow piles. 

It's easy to be all nostalgic now about the snowmen-making and hot cocoa sipping, and to forget about the bitter cold and lack of paycheck for the week the government was shut down. And I do love that I can walk down the street without a coat on February 22(!). But next winter, I'd like just one good snow, ok, mother nature? 

In the mean time, I'll just have to pretend it's chilly outside to enjoy some of winter's more hearty go-to recipes, like the little dinner I made last night. I bought a bag of brussels sprouts at Trader Joe's Monday, intending to make this dish. I didn't want to buy, or use, heavy cream, so I decided to search for something different. 

I came across this food network recipe instead, and heavily adapted it for what I had on hand (and for what I personally like best). It ended up going something like this: 

-handful of baby carrots, sliced lengthwise
-handful of baby potatoes, cut in half
-half a bag of brussels sprouts, cut in half
-half a red pepper, cut in to medium size pieces
-clove of garlic, minced (seriously, every savory recipe should include this, in my book)
-sprinkling of rosemary & thyme (maybe tablespoon of each)
-pinch of sea salt
-a few cranks of black pepper from the grinder
-just enough olive oil to coat everything lightly and keep it from sticking to the pan

I baked it all together in my pretty pyrex pie pan at 400 degrees for about 35 minutes, stirring it with a spoon halfway through. A cookie sheet would do just as well, but I'm trying to make a more concerted effort to treat dinner less like an obligation and more like something nice I can do for myself (and whoever might be at my house at the time), which means using the nice pans, plates, and wine glasses!

 

Even though it wasn't all that cold outside, it was the perfect winter weeknight dinner, with a little salad on the side, and a Trader Joe's ice cream sandwich for dessert (yes, I'm one of those weirdos who prefers ice cream in winter).

ps-Sorry to be so MIA (I know everyone has really missed me. REALLY). I had one of my closest college friends and her boyfriend in town for the long weekend, and I spent three straight days totally crashing their touristy weekend, which was a real gift, but didn't lend itself to cooking much! 

friendsgiving, finally

Has it really only been 2 1/2 weeks since Friendsgiving? Surely not. Surely everything that's happened in my life in the past 2 1/2 weeks actually took place over a longer period of time, right?

I suppose "contemplate the time warp that has become my life" is not the point. No, the point is, I'm finally getting around to describing the gloriousness that was Friendsgiving. In case all you care about are pictures, let's start there, ok?

(Oh yeah, one thing before we get going. We decided to name the turkey Walter, so hopefully that clears up any confusion with the subsequent captions/narration)

Getting ready to make four(!) batches of rosemary olive oil bread

wearing plastic gloves and drinking some (fortifying) wine before brining Walter

coating Walter in herb butter prior to roasting

all 20 pounds of Walter, ready to roast

LOOK AT HOW GORGEOUS THIS TURKEY LOOKS!!

weary hostesses, still in cooking attire despite the 25 or so guests in the living room

fairly self explanatory, but: gravy, cranberry sauce, and bread!

from left: turkey and smoked gouda mac n cheese, apple sausage stuffing, sweet potato casserole, and bacon green beans

we finally made it out of our cooking clothes and in to our cocktail dresses

 

And now, if you are at all interested, the abbreviated narrative...

Our Friendsgiving was born from one of the many whims I've had lately in an attempt to stay busy and get in the holiday spirit. It was an idea I'd heard about from various friends over the past few years, and sounded fun, so my coworker/good friend Neha and I (pictured above) decided to give it a shot.  After all, we're always looking for an excuse to throw on a cocktail dress.  

The week of the party, despite my major aversion to the place, we went to Costco with a coworker and loaded up on obscene quantities of things like cranberries, green beans, carrots, cheese and turkey. Later in the week, we hit Harris Teeter for things we didn't need in bulk.

Neha and I devoted Friday night to baking bread and doing (not enough) prep work, and then cooked all day Saturday. Friday night, I burned the sweet potato biscuits I've made flawlessly half a dozen times now, so that was frustrating, but constituted our only major disaster, so I'll take it. 

Saturday we got a leisurely start to the day, taking our time buttering up Walter, and picking up a few last minute things. Around lunch, we suddenly realized "oh CRAP, people are coming over starting at 5, and we have so so so much to do!" So, we kicked things in to overdrive, and started chopping, sauteing, and prepping like mad women. We basically ceased any form of chatter, and only spoke when we had questions about a recipe or needed a tool the other was using. Sounds a bit Top Chef-ish, I know, but it worked out well, and we both agreed that cooking and hostessing together was an enjoyable experience. 

Despite the flurry of cooking, we were still in our aprons when the guests arrived, frantically stirring the gravy and setting up the warming trays. We plied the everyone with plentiful wine, and trays of hummus and carrots (mercifully put to good use after we nixed the planned glazed carrots dish due to lack of time and sanity). No one seemed to mind our apron-clad, frenzied selves with the smell of turkey floating around the apartment and glasses of wine in hand.

Once everything was as good as we were going to get it, we instructed everyone to fill a plate and find a place to sit. Then we snuck off, shed the aprons, tossed our cocktail dresses on, joined the party, and piled plates with delicious food.

Even a few weeks later, it still makes me cheesily happy to talk (err, write?) about Friendsgiving. Despite the stress of cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal for the first time in our lives (and for 25 people!), we had a great time. And having friends from all aspects of our lives come together for the occasion was a really nice way to kick off the holiday season.

Next year, though, we're going to do a few things differently. Yes, this brings us to the "if you decide to throw your own Friendsgiving" portion of the post. If we invite that many people again, we're going to aim for a potluck style meal in which we provide only the protein and the booze. All of our side dishes were edible, and dare I say delicious? But the size of apartments in this city does not allow for adequate prep space, oven capacity, or availability of tools, making cooking multiple dishes for two dozen people a real challenge.  And, literally everyone we invited really wanted to bring something, so I don't think the transition to a group-sourced meal will dissuade people from attending our second annual Friendsgiving next year.

Speaking of booze, provide plenty (even if you don't drink and/or some of your guests don't, the rest will make up for it). Gracefully accept in advance that you are not Martha Stewart or staring in a sitcom, and as such, your meal is not going to be ready promptly, nor will your guests all show up at once. No one will lead a revolt due to those factors, but a full glass of wine will squelch any impatience they might feel until you pull the golden turkey out of the oven triumphantly (and a presentable apron will make you feel a little less self-conscious about greeting your guests in leggins and a t-shirt) 

Oh and for the love of all things turkey, make sure you take the neck out of the bird before you roast him.

One last thing. Here are all the recipes we used (they're also on the "LKTC-tested recipes" page): 

• dry brine turkey with classic herb butter (in the herb butter, I didn't use sage, but used fresh chopped rosemary instead)
• roasted garlic mashed potatoes 
• mac n cheese (note: I make fairly significant substitutions, in which [smoked] gouda and provolone replace the cheddar. I use a ratio of 2 to 1 for the gouda/provolone mixture) 
• apple sausage stuffing (we didn't use sage) 
• cranberry sauce 
• green beans and bacon
• rosemary olive oil bread
• gravy (subbed butter for oil, and added a dollop of the herb butter that we set aside when buttering the turkey)

gratitude and glazed carrots

 

grateful for the countless lake house weekends when i was growing up

(slightly less grateful for these sunglasses...) 

I realize that both Friendsgiving and actual Thanksgiving have passed now, but it's still the season to be thankful if you ask me. Sometimes I forget just how good I have it, so I've been trying not to lose sight of that this year, even though things don't always go just as I'd like. 

I'm grateful for the big things, like my crazy family and their unyielding belief that I'm someone to be proud of, my amazing friends and their consistent grace in the face of my many quirks,  my childhood full of weekends at the lake house, my comfortable (if small) apartment, my (relatively) stable job, and the freedom and means to do what I please most of the time. 

I'm also thankful for silly little things, like the Bose noise cancelling headphones my Mom decided she didn't need, my bright pink rain boots, the holiday parties that give me an excuse to dress up this season, pictures of my sister and I from when we were younger that make me laugh, the Starbucks solo espresso macchiatos that remind me of Italy, the days I don't have to set an alarm clock, and the realization about a year ago that I can actually cook for myself if I put my mind to it. 

That last one is what brings us to the glazed carrots bit. A couple weeks ago, I was supposed to have plans with a friend, but bowed out last minute (see: their grace in the face of my quirks). I was so exhausted from one of the innumerable pre-7am meetings we have here at work, and just wanted to go home. I was headed for a night of cereal and soy milk, but my guilt complex kicked in, and instead I made garlic naan (from Trader Joe's, so good!), roasted potatoes tossed with this Moroccan spice mix and some olive oil, and these curried glazed carrots (both recipes from a favorite of mine, Dinner a Love Story). 

It involved only a tiny bit more effort than pouring myself cereal and milk, and was far more satisfying. I'm thankful that those sort of choices are becoming more normal in my life. It gives me hope that maybe some day I'll actually be capable of turning out edible dinners on a regular basis for my future family. Now I just need to work on more internet-worthy pictures...

 

ps-I've been adding any referenced recipes to the "LKTC-tested recipes" tab at the top of the main page, including those we used at Friendsgiving, even though I haven't detailed that adventure yet, so if you're looking for a comprehensive list, head over that way.