semantics

As you've possibly noticed, I am totally slacking on the whole posting thing.  (Well, all four of you who read this blog, anyways)

I've gotten maybe a third of the way through a spirited post about my spice rub kick and spat with George, but just don't seem to have the heart (or the time) to wrap it up completely.  And I haven't even started describing this past Sunday's amazing dinner.  Shameful, really. 

Somehow I have found the time to do some online window shopping, which has led to the creation of a totally self-indulgent new feature: kitchen covets.

Before you even ask, no, you cannot use "covets" as a noun in this way.  The only recognized noun form is coveter (you better believed I looked it up--no false information on this corny blog, friends). But the minute it popped in to my head, it stuck.  Kind of like Mom's name for my mixer (Kitty the Kitchenaid [stripper]).   

So if intentionally un-impeccable grammar is a dealbreaker, you're going to want to avoid the (maybe) weekly "kitchen covets" series.  If you are my family and in need of holiday gift ideas, however, this is your scene.  

First up? A shiny apple-red ice cream maker.  See, isn't she pretty?

(image from here)

How did you decide you needed one? you might ask.   

Well, I don't know if you remember the three-part belated birthday dinner a few weeks ago, but that's where it all began.  See, I had made the peanut butter squares before meeting a few friends at a fundraiser/happy hour.  Upon arrival to said happy hour, I was describing the squares (and the rest of the eventual Sunday dinner) to my friends. One of the friends ended up mentioning the salted caramel ice cream he was making. 

Naturally I immediately invited him to Sunday dinner, wanting to get my hands on that ice cream (and enjoy his company, of course). Sadly the ice cream was bound for some sort of potluck and/or competition.  And ever since then, I haven't been able to get (salted caramel) ice cream off my mind. 

So if you draw my name for Christmas this year, hint hint :)

home sweet cornelius

(spending my birthday week(end) here)

I don't make it back home to Lake Norman nearly as often as I'd like, but my 25th birthday/a fluke week off between jobs/a long weekend were more than enough to convince me to jump in the car and make the trek through the Shenandoah to get home.  


The drive was going beautifully (which is the reward for leaving before noon on a holiday weekend) until I hit traffic about 12 miles away from our exit. When I stopped to fill up my car 2 hours from home, I was already struggling, so the delay so close to the Lake was pure torture.  Luckily my parents had a "mini shrimp boil" waiting for me, and I didn't manage to stay away much past that.  


A really terrible headache woke me up before 6 this morning, which I found as a very inauspicious start to my birthday.  Mom made me eggs, toast, and breakfast potatoes and we decided that shopping was obviously the best cure for the headache.  After a few advil and a few hours at South Park, I was feeling slightly more human and slightly less like I had consumed several bottles of wine the night prior.  


Birthday shopping was very successful--the woman ringing us up at Madewell accidentally gave me 50% off of everything, I got something sparkly to celebrate my new job/commemorate 25/replace my wishbone necklace, and maybe best of all, I grabbed a few things from the Nordstrom kids' department.  Nothing to make 25 feel a little less old than squeezing into the same green trench as the 8 year old in the dressing room next to you.


Even though I'm a little put off by turning 25, I've felt no shortage of love, both here at home and from friends flung all over the globe.  Thanks to all my lovely friends and family for the birthday messages, cards, calls, etc.  


Anyways, I'll be back in the LKTC after a week of cookouts, boat time, shopping, and sleeping in.  When I don an apron again, I'll be year older, and, we can only hope, a little wiser in the kitchen...

sunday success stories

what, you don't use a tomato can as a trivet?

(cutting board may or may not be drying in this position)

In case you couldn't tell, the LKTC has seen a lot of action today.  And these are just the post-dinner dishes...

This morning, I practically bounded out of bed, which is a welcome change from the troubling lethargy that's otherwise been weighing me down most days (yeah, I'll go to a doctor soon...).  I beat the majority of my fellow fifth floor residents to the laundry room, and aside from some awkward conversation with an older Greek man who was basically only wearing boxers, I pretty much had the place to myself.  While an embarrassing volume of my clothing spun around the dryer, I took another stab at buttermilk biscuits. 

SUCCESSSS.  Ok, so I haven't reached Biscuitville quality by any means just yet.  But this batch was a marked improvement.  I was actually disappointed that I made so few biscuits (last time, I took one bite of each batch, and tossed the rest). They were flaky and light and delicious.  Sophie can vouch for me--we ate them as snacks while shopping this afternoon (unconventional? yes.  but snacking will get a little unconventional when you can't eat out, but happen to have an interest in marathon shopping). 

After an expensive afternoon at Tyson's, Sophie and I came back to my apartment, and while she worked on her taxes, I decided to face another former kitchen failure.  Meatballs.  While I sort of consider myself southern (hence the slight obsession with acquiring awe-inspiring biscuit skills), I definitely identify more with my Italian-ness, so I was especially bummed when my first stab at this staple failed.  And knowing Allie was coming over to join for dinner, the pressure was on (she's not only a fantastic cook, but also Italian). 

Maybe I was just in the right place to be up to my elbows in food today, but the meatballs were also a success (buttermilk biscuits also involve a fair amount of hands-in-goo time).  I am slowly beginning to find a soothing rhythm in the onion dicing, herb chopping, and garlic mincing that tend to initiate many of the dishes I cook.  And let me tell you, if you have never hand squeezed whole tomatoes from a can into a pot, you have not lived, my friend.  Nor have you had especially delicious sauce (or so claims Food Network magazine, which says whole canned tomatoes retain the most flavor).  

Anyways, not only am I getting better about literally getting my hands dirty, I'm also learning to just RELAX. I think cooking has always stressed me out because I get caught up in following the directions perfectly, telling myself it won't turn out properly if I don't.  And then, as I started cooking more, I managed to turn out some blah meatballs and flat biscuits, even after following the directions perfectly. So I've started taking more liberties (why yes, I do think that dough needs another 2 tablespoons of butter) and tailoring recipes to my taste (um, parsley is gross.  sub basil...and don't tell food network).  I never thought I'd get to the point where I could stick my hands into a bowl of ground meat, raw egg, cheese, bread crumbs, and herbs without gagging (ok, when you type it all out, it does sound gross...).  I'm still not ready to clean out a whole roasting chicken, pat it down with butter, and "massage" it (a technique my sister swears by), but I'm working my way there...

Now that I've so appetizingly described food and its many (gooey) stages, scroll on back up to those photos and remind yourself that even if I can't do the recipes justice with words, I can at least show you pretty pictures of the final product. 

weekend update

Friday night - Moroccan spiced shrimp, brown rice, garlic naan

Saturday night - sauteed beef, fried rice, more garlic naan

Saturday morning - buttermilk biscuit experiment

Saturday morning - buttermilk biscuit fail 

Sunday morning - pre-opera brunch picnic

For someone who gave up eating out (and hates to cook), I'm eating pretty well.  Not healthy, but well.  There's a big difference.  And I did not give up eating junk (although I probably should have), so I'm totally ok with it.  

Friday night, I made shrimp, rice, and naan for Allie and I. In the spirit of full disclosure, Trader Joe's made the naan, and it was delicious.  The spice rub on the shrimp was also pretty amazing, but in this case, I also can't take credit for anything other than my blog-trolling skills, which led me to this cool site called Dinner: A Love Story (where I found the recipe).  Saturday I used the remainder of the naan as a vehicle for rice and sauteed beef.  It was just so/so, but that's what I get for using pre-packaged rice mixes (Sarah, if you're reading this, I clearly need some cooking lessons-your fried rice rocks).    

Saturday morning, I decided to experiment with two different biscuit recipes to prepare for today's pre-opera picnic brunch.  The first one was for plain biscuits from Paula Deen and the second one was for buttermilk biscuits from Epicurious.  I didn't want to be too wasteful, so I cut each recipe down by half or more, which turned out to be an excellent decision, because both were total flops.  I tried really hard to follow the directions verbatim and to not overwork the dough (a no-no for biscuits, shortbread, etc).  And yet I pulled two separate pans of flat, blah biscuits out of my oven.  I refuse to throw in the towel, though, because I think every self-respecting quasi Southern woman should be able to make biscuits from scratch in a pinch.  If anyone out there knows the secrets to the fluffy, flaky Bojangles style biscuits, we can negotiate recurring payments for access to this (dangerous) intel. 

Because I had strawberries and fresh whipped cream (as in, I poured heavy cream into a bowl and created deliciousness), I had to develop a vehicle for that sugary goodness.  Enter shortbread.  I found a shortbread recipe by accident when I was searching for biscuit recipes, and decided I also wanted to give that a go.  (Are we noticing a butter-related trend yet?).   So after spending yesterday with Allie (more on that in a minute), I came home and made shortbread.  I was disheartened by how crumbly the dough was (I could barely roll it out), and by the fact that the cookies weren't pretty (did I remember to warn you all that I'm a very typical first-born perfectionist/type A? and that part of my disdain for cooking is this trial and error process? ok, well now you've been warned).  In case you're also trying to consume your weight in butter, here's the shortbread recipe.  I got a little wild and added some grated lemon peel to balance the sweetness of the cream and strawberries.  

But the cookies were delicious, and were, in fact, the perfect vehicle for spoonfulls of fresh whipped cream and sliced strawberries.  We also had eggs, bacon, muffins/danish, pasta salad, and cheese and crackers along with our champagne.  Then we piled into a cab in our fancy dresses and saw Madama Butterfly at the Kennedy Center.  Oh, and it was about 65 degrees and sunny today.  PERFECT SUNDAY.  

And finally, yesterday was basically a perfect Saturday.  I bookended the day with baking experiments, and spent the middle of the day shopping and crafting with Allie.  We originally set out to just go to the craft store, but detoured to Bed, Bath, and Beyond, World Market, Marshalls, Old Navy, and Home Goods first.  I picked up all sorts of random accessories for the LKTC (microplane, biscuit cutters, carafe, mini bottles of champagne, etc).  Then we went to Michael's and JoAnn's, where we tried to find the perfect fabric and trim to make a headboard out of scratch for Allie's room.  See pictures of the entire process right here.  

Ok, that was the most disjointed account of my weekend that I could have possibly dreamed up.  I'd lie to you and say it was intentional...trying to keep you on your toes and all that...but mostly I'm just exhausted and not thinking (or writing) all that logically.  Sorry to confuse/bore you...I'll be back on top of things after I kick daylight savings time's little butt.    

sometimes i eat like no one is watching

I'm still a few weeks away from the beginning of Lent, but I'm already looking for reasons to be enthusiastic about giving up eating out (I'm not sure about the grammar in this sentence, but let's not talk about that). 


Today's reason?  Sometimes I eat like no one is watching.  No, really, it's (sad but) true.  This can happen for a variety of reasons...time constraint, excitement about the food in question, or sheer ravenousness being the most common. This worked out a lot less awkwardly for me when I sat in the back corner cube of my office at Pentagon, and could tell long before anyone rounded the corner.  Now that I sit in what I refer to as the Bermuda Triangle in my new office, I have to be a little less demonstrably enthusiastic about my love and hunger for, say, breakfast potatoes (I have a well-known addiction to said breakfast food, but that's another story).  


Luckily I managed to stave off ravenousness until tonight, though, and could eat in the privacy of my own (currently very disorganized) apartment.  That Subway "turkey on oat with peppers and cucumbers" didn't stand a chance.  And yes, I got a foot-long.  At least I put it on a plate first.  The only time in recent memory I ate with less decorum was my very late (very solo) Valentine's day lunch at Chipotle.  And that happens pretty much every time I go to Chipotle.   


Anyways, as I'm prone to do, I digress.  The reason I worked myself into such a state of hunger was a lengthy trip to Pentagon City after work.  (I'm sure my "meal" of rice and trail mix for lunch didn't do me any favors).  I was on the hunt for a few birthday gifts for a certain mother of mine (happy belated birthday, Mom!).  Somehow I ended up at World Market at the end of the adventure, despite my (pretty frequent) pledge to rein in my spending.  


I decided that if I'm going to be cooking most of my meals, I'm going to need some spices.  And World Market is all about some bargain spice prices.  So I may've been a little heavy handed in my purchasing, but in my very limited culinary experience, it's incredibly frustrating to find a recipe that both sounds good and seems feasible, only to realize I'm lacking in one (or more) of the required ingredients.  The picture above is of my World Market loot--check out all that good stuff!  Olive oil (I'm almost out), curry powder, beef rub, thyme, rosemary, cumin, and paprika.  And the packaging is charming, especially the olive oil.  Side note: I am a marketing department's dream customer.  Package it up nice and pretty, and I will buy it.  Cliche, I know. 


I'm particularly excited because my cashier was fantastic.  Possibly I was still a little bitter over the bad customer service experience at Nordstrom Rack (my mental rant went something like this: I'm sorry, but who doesn't do an extra discount for damaged items? You want me to buy this dirty pair of suede shoes for the same price some other girl is going to pay for clean shoes just because the dirty pair is THE ONLY ONE LEFT in my size? I think you're just jealous I have tiny, cute feet, you rude sales lady, you). 


Anyways, I get to the register at World Market and the lady starts ringing up my many, many items and when she pulls out the "Herbs de Provence," she says "have you tried this?" and I said "nope." She proceeded to warn me that the lavender overwhelms all the other herbs, and it tastes "like you're eating a flower."  I mean, the herbs were only $2.99, but I'm still grateful that she spared me the money and the eventual disappointment.  AND she gave me $10 off.  Shopping karma.  Take that, Nordstrom Rack.  


Now that I've bored your socks off, I'm going to go watch Gossip Girl and dream about the Girl Scout cookies in my freezer (I'll stop dreaming and start eating when I get back from Miami and no longer have to wear a bathing suit).