Tag Archives: breakfast

Breakfast freakout

9 Apr

Hi, world! It has come to my attention that two blogs linked to a post of mine in the past few days, and now I have a boatload of traffic on here when I wasn’t prepared. I mean, I’ve been pretty negligent about the blog recently (BLAME A GOOD LOOKING MAN, PEOPLE) and now I feel like the pressure is on to be really cute/likeable/readable to what is essentially a bunch of half-interested internet strangers, and I’m like WHOA HO HO I DUNNO IF I POSSESS THE CHARISMA.

So uh, as an act of desperation I am flinging a picture of my breakfast at you. That’s right, I’m pulling one of THOSE cards. Lazy cards. Last minute cards. I’m-at-a-loss-for-creative-output-on-the-spot cards. This is what you get. You’re welcome, internet.

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To be fair, my life has pretty much rotated around taco trucks and breakfast foods lately, so at least this breakfast was topical. Let me explain! Recently the taco truck near my house inexplicably vanished, and after several very painful and emotional days completely devoid of any asada burritos, it was decided that DAMN IT, WE’LL MAKE ‘EM OURSELVES. That was last night. This morning, said good-looking man was like, feed me! I’m insatiable all the time! So I did what I always do and fried a bunch of potatoes and onions, threw in whatever was in the fridge (leftover burrito parts!) put some fried eggs on top and called it done. “Burrito hash!” Cover that in Tapatio! Make a smoothie to counteract the greasiness! Toast some obligatorily very healthful seed-bread when everyone knows they’d rather have sourdough! Boom, breakfast.

Coping Strategies

27 Nov

As my therapist told me, “if you’re going through hell, just keep going.” She obviously wasn’t the first one to say it, but she was the first one to say it to me. So. If you’re going through hell, just keep going.

And drink plenty of tea.

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Buy expensive treats to enjoy.

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Try to find joy in little surprises.

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And make yourself some goddamn waffles, already.

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Waffles For One On a Weekday Morning

1 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon sugar
1.5 teaspoons baking powder
dash of cinnamon, for good measure

3/4 cup milk
1 egg
2 tablespoons melted butter
3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Mix your dries, then mix the wets, then mix ’em together. Put them in an oiled waffle maker. Wait a few minutes, eat with plenty of syrup, a pear and some tea, watch Louie on Netflix, attempt to pause the near-constant stream of uncomfortable self-evaluation for a moment. Makes four waffles.

Tomato Jam, or, How I Became a Hypocrite & Hopped On The Food Trend Train

1 Jun

There are a few things I can’t stand:

French pedicures.
Small dogs that shake all the time.
Bill Withers’ “Ain’t No Sunshine” (in which he literally says “I know” TWENTY SIX TIMES IN A ROW. OH. MY. GOD.)
Incorrect apostrophe usage.
And of course, food trends.

There are more, obviously, because I am a Human Who Loves to Grumble, but I’ll stop there because that’s what we’re on about. I’ve previously mentioned how irritating I find food trends, though I can’t figure out how to link it back so I’ll sum it up for you here: I don’t like food trends because I probably already know what I feel like eating, and it’s not a cake pop, so please drop it already. Popular food trends just irritate me, probably because I’m somewhat lazy, fairly uppity, and pretty self-righteous, but maybe a liiiiiittle part of me is justified? Right? Because food trends make otherwise food-ambivilent people feel all gourmand-y just because they tried ramen and liked it! Well duh, it’s delicious! Start caring about food a little more, you indolent masses! Christ!

But now I will crawl off my soapbox because this post is all about how I’m a big ol’ hypocrite.

 

The other day at work we were a little slow, so I went across the street to the fruit and vegetable market, bought 2 pounds of roma tomatoes and set out to make the insanely popular tomato jam I’ve been reading about on every blog, cooking magazine headline, and trendy menu for awhile now. It’s been floating around for years, but I recently noticed it EVERYWHERE. I kind of wanted to hate it. But I didn’t. It was amazing. I was wrong! I’m sorry, universe! I followed Mark Bittman’s recipe because he is always right (I found his recipe on The Wednesday Chef), so much so that I’m fairly sure he’s related to the Dalai Lama. Here’s his recipe, from the NY Times:

1 1/2 pounds good ripe Roma tomatoes, cored and coarsely chopped
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lime juice
1 tablespoon fresh grated or minced ginger
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon salt
1 jalapeño or other peppers, stemmed, seeded and minced, or red pepper flakes or cayenne to taste.

 

1. Combine all ingredients in a heavy medium saucepan, Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring often.

2. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring occasionally, until mixture has consistency of thick jam, about 1 hour 15 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning, then cool and refrigerate until ready to use; this will keep at least a week.

Yield: About 1 pint.

I first ran a special with the jam, bacon, a mixed greens on sourdough, which people seemed to really like. I couldn’t get enough of it at work so I came home and did the whole damn thing over again for myself. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it’s a great flavor combo that brings a hint of sweetness to savory dishes– it’s so versatile!

I was a sucker for the little bit of spice from the ginger and chili flakes. It goes with everything- I had it with eggs and toast for breakfast, with herbed goat cheese and salami on baguettes for a potluck, and on grilled chicken for dinner. Not all in a row, because that would be overkill, but still.

A little goes a long way with this stuff, too, so I still have leftovers (which included dinner for 6 and that potluck, so I was using lots). If I were into canning, this would be a good candidate, but since I am not at all motivated to go down that road, I’d suggest just halving the recipe if you’re concerned that you can’t use it up before it goes. So I guess I’ve got to officially stop knocking food trends… ’cause it looks like this mainstream food fad is actually pretty legit. But I swear to god, if cakepops don’t disappear from Pinterest soon I’m writing a letter to Al Gore to inform him that the internet is ruining food.

Sweet Thangs!

13 Mar

It’s my birthday!

Oh, woof.

This morning I topped off a weekend of celebrations with Riley at breakfast, where we were delivered an inappropriately shaped pancake (I guess it was good luck, I don’t think they knew it was my birthday!). It was her last morning in town before moving home.  Though we had several near-tearful moments recently looking back at our friendship and growing up together and moving towns and watching each other grow and change and become people we admire in one another, still…

it was nice to top it all off with a silly, stupid pancake.

By now I’m celebrating my own way, cuddled into the couch with a whiskey coke, watching Big Love and mawing Goldfish, wasting time in a way that it is only appropriate if someone’s died, you’re bed ridden, or today is the day you turn 24. The weekend was much more eventful though,  including a party I threw for myself (because I trust no one else, of course) that involved many sequins, plenty of champagne and whiskey, and mini chocolate cheesecakes.

I made these with Riley the day before to have among the spread of munchies available. Nothing says “I LOVE MYSELF AND DEMAND ATTENTION” quite like spending two hours making mini chocolate cheesecakes (with chocolate ganache and raspberries) for yer own damn birthday party. But they were delicious and a big hit, so I’d say it was time well spent (recipe was found at Love and Olive Oil). For now, until it’s time to hit up downtown for dinner with C, I’ll be wallowing in TV on DVD and thinking about how lucky I am to have a best friend like Riley, who, through everything since we were kids, has been there for me regardless of how far away she was. Girl, I know I’m getting sappy. But I love you, I love that we spent all last week together, and I’m so proud of you. Happy birthday to me, happy everything else to you.

Riley, I love you like the Golden Girls love eating cheesecake after 9 pm. In retrospect, it was obviously the only appropriate dessert.

Gratuitous to say the least

15 May

Oh, wow. I just learned that the rapture is happening on May 21st. That’s ON SATURDAY. I have 6 days to get right with the lord or face eternal damnation. Unfortunately, these molasses waffles I made this morning are seriously distracting me from my salvation paperwork…

Wait, does food porn count as a sin?

How to be a Homebody

20 Nov

Traditionally my attitude towards nesting and general housewifeyness is pretty bipolar… I either decry it as a waste of good socializing time and insist on being out of the house at all times, or  pull a day like today. On days like today, when I’ve woken up to frozen solid streets and 3.5 inches of snow enveloping my home, car, and very cold cat, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do than hike up the thermostat and putter around my house in a sweaters and aprons. So while C is working on a bike project in the middle of our very tiny living room, I’m sucking down my third London Fog of the morning and recovering from my awesome breakfast adventure while chewy molasses cookies are finishing up in the oven.

This morning I felt like making us a nice breakfast, but was in the mood for something else besides the usual over medium eggs we cook up, so I tried shirred eggs for the first time. I like using ramekins, but never have a reason to, so that was pretty much the only driving force in the creation of these eggs… I just cracked one egg each into four ramekins, topped it with some chopped parsley and spicy cheese blend, salt and pepper, then let them set up in the oven at 350 for about 20 minutes. I could have taken them out sooner to get over medium, but for the first shot they were good… velvety whites with the yolks pretty close to a hard-boiled egg texture. Paired with toast and Hempler’s Italian sausage I was pretty satisfied afterward.

And since I couldn’t find a good-looking recipe for molasses cookies in any of my cookbooks, I snagged one from MARTHASTEWART.COM. That’s right, this lady’s gone the way of Martha Stewart… yikes. Let’s just hope it’s for one day only, eh? Here’s the recipe, it’s mighty fine! Possibly because I am at best a mediocre baker, or perhaps because my electric oven appears to be an off brand from the late eighties (anyone heard of Tappan brand? Anyone? No? Me neither), the first batch got burnt on the bottom. Luckily I had a bunch more to bake off (one sheet at a time, so as to get an even crackle on each cookie) and with a little attention to rotation the rest turned out delightfully chewy and unburnt.

By now I’ve finished listening to a rad mix CD that my pal Andy made for me, my cat’s all warmed up, and I’m contemplating brewing up some mulled wine to curl up with… maybe while I watch Elf!?

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