Conversations With Joe About Cheese

 

Joe:  what does it say about me if i don't really have a favorite cheese

me:  Is it because you love all cheeses equally or because you don't really care about cheese?

Conversations with Flynn About Cheese

 10:29 AMSarah: christ, i'm hungry

 me: I just ate a whole grapefruit at my desk and it feels like it just made a grapefruit-sized hole.

 Sarah: i had granola for breakfast which is really only useful for like an hour

 me: Totally. That shit is like rocket fuel for my metabolism. I need to eat a planet one hour later.

10:34 AM Sarah: also did not help that i spent like an hour looking at cheese on the internet last night

 me: I have been digging for food videos all day, so also guilty.

10:35 AM Sarah: after i ordered i was like "oh NO. i could have gotten a LOAF OF CHEDDAR"

 me: Ha ha ha!

via Wisconsin Cheese Mart

Consider the Kumquat

How great is citrus season, you guys? I love that it comes right at the tail end of winter, when we never want to see a potato, beet or apple again.

Can we have a moment of Real Talk about kumquats? They are freaks. I used to love to eat them whole when I was little, because I am weird and love sour things. My Sidekick will occasionally soak them in bourbon or rye for the tartest Manhattan or Old Fashioned you've ever had. But really, what else is there to do with these little weirdos? They do not yield enough juice to be useful. The spelling of their name is ridiculous. Turns out, good ol' Lucy G. Allen's got a trick up her sleeve.

Happy Valentine's Day, Screw-Up!

Look. Sometimes we screw up. Sometimes we wake up in the morning and our devoted and thoughtful partners present us with cards or gifts for holidays which we've forgotten about. Did you do that today? I'm here to help.

I'm sure you feel badly enough already, but we're all pretty disappointed in you. Here is an hors d'oeuvre so quick, so simple, so cheap and so god damned adorable, it will get you out of any Valentine's Day failure.

A New Year of Stuffing Cheese Into Other Things

Oh, hey guys. I started out the year so serious on you. So... let's probably talk about olives now?

Most of you probably do not think of olives as comfort food. Most of you probably did not devote the entirety of your teenaged, after-school snacking to piles of them. It just so happens that I do and I did.

This is Really Mac and Cheese

We haven't really talked about this yet.

This is what it should look like.

There are few reasons for this:

How to Horrify Your Dinner Guests

Because of my upbringing, I take Halloween very seriously.

When I say "my upbringing", what I mean is this: my childhood house turned into a crypt for the entire month of October and part of November because my mother takes Halloween very seriously. Our front yard was a cemetery. Our windows were blockaded with ghosts and warning signs. Navigating the spider webs in the hallways became an important skill. There was a fountain of blood in our dining room. Doorknobs turned into monster hands. Am I painting enough of a picture for you? Every year my parents threw a balls-out, lavish, enormous Halloween party for 100 of their closest friends. I've decided it's my responsibility to uphold this tradition, albeit on a slightly smaller scale in my adult life. In that spirit: a little Halloween party food porn:

Punch Drunk

The Fred Swayze/Shivery McPickles union turned one year old last month. To celebrate, we were supposed to be in Spain for our honeymoon. Unfortunately, as you all definitely know, my Sidekick had to get - well - re-stacked this summer, so we've postponed. To soothe the burn of having to reschedule our ham and txakoli-oriented trip, we threw a bitchin' party centered around a giant bowl of punch.

If that looks like the sun rising over the horizon to you, it's no coincidence. This mother holds three gallons.

My Sidekick was in charge of the punch. A no-nonsense hell-broth of bourbon, citrus, maraschino, orgeat, bitters and sparkling wine that tasted like juice, went down like water and made everyone's cheeks especially rosy. I was in charge of the snacks.

A Renewed Enthusiasm

With all the injuries, moving apartments, crazy heat waves and other life-craziness, A Book of Hors d'Oeuvres and I took a little hiatus from each other. However, the weather has already begun to cool down - although my heart will not let me totally admit that it is already happening - and my stomach has begun to agree to let me put more than gazpacho and Mexican beer in it. Which brings us back, as ever, to where we started: more cream cheese.

Are We All Tired of Toast Points Yet?

I'll admit, I am. I'm a little tired of toast. This toast in particular combines a lot of things I love: olives, melty cheese, broilers. But, I was a little less than moved by it, to be honest. Is it perhaps too reminiscent of the cream cheese and olive sandwiches an enthusiastic grandmother tried to get me to eat in my youth? Yes, perhaps. Were they also served alongside the aforementioned bacon and cheese revelations? Yes. Sadly for Olive and Cheese Canapes I, they were.

No hard feelings, guys. Thanks for coming to the party.

Step Five: Don't Forget That You're Cooking

Sometimes I have ideas to make funny videos. Then sometimes, other drunk people have already had that idea and are pretty funny. Don't fuckin hurt yourself.

Ugly Duckling

Suddenly, all I can talk about on Friday is what you should make for breakfast over the weekend. Today, I realized that I don't really have anything breakfast oriented to talk about. Or do I?

Here's the question: does the idea of making raw bacon and cheese force-meat repulse you? I mean, by all accounts it should. It sounds and looks pretty gross. But there is just no way you can get the bacon to get so cheesy, or the cheese to get so bacony without doing so. I used my food processor for this because, as I noted to my Sidekick, who was already making me a third cocktail, "She keeps calling for a meat grinder because food processors didn't exist." Don't get me wrong. I have a meat grinder. But drunk food processor use somehow seemed safer.

Oh, and Cream Cheese

There is something about the color combination of pink and green that has always owned my heart. My first ever bikini was pink and green. I have always loved cutting into a watermelon. My birthday cakes almost invariably had pink flowers with pale green leaves. In these late days of winter and early spring, I can often be found in hot pink rain boots and a ridiculously over-sized green scarf. It's an illness. And it's not going away any time soon. This is all to say that the recipe for Stuffed Radishes I really appealed to me.

No Concessions for Frugality

Deep breath. Here we go:

There is so much that I love about this book. A teensy bit of history, (because I am a loser this way) so that from here on out, you'll understand where good ol' Lucy was coming from. This book was first published in 1925 (the edition I have is from 1970, which accounts for the pictures being so awesome). That's post-WWI, but pre-Great Depression, which is revealed in the fact that there are no concessions for frugality. There is no suggestion to use milk instead of cream or paddlefish roe instead of sturgeon. This is a straight up, balls to the wall indulgence for those you are welcoming into your home, entertaining and plying with luxury. Lucy co-founded the Boston School of Cookery in 1915 after studying under Fannie Farmer. So... you know, she's got some street cred. Okay, on to the sexy stuff.

The Most Serious and Sloppy Things

Those who know me know a few, irrefutable things about me. I think that pickles are important. I measure picky eaters with the concerned eye of a teacher whose student says they hate reading. I am passionate about the skin on chocolate pudding. I'm not prone to long bouts of serious conversation. And I take green chile very, very seriously.

La Preparación

As my Sidekick and I begin to consider our upcoming honeymoon in the Basque country, I've careened deeper and deeper down into the rabbit hole of my obsession with all things Spanish and edible.

Getaria. I want to go to there.

This morning, while I adoringly perused this week's editions of Ruth Reichl's gift guide, I discovered a veritable mail-order wonderland: La Tienda. Holy mother, where have you been all my life?

Leekfest 2010

Oh, you guys. Don't get sick. Just don't. It screws everything up. Including writing about insane cooking projects you endeavor upon with your friends.

Leekfest 2010 was one of those endeavors. It began innocently enough, when my friend mentioned she was confounded by leeks.

Camemberry White

Oh my god, you guys. I can't stop laughing. Someone, please, give me something to bite down on so I don't swallow my tongue. I can't breathe.

via CHEESE PEOPLE

Seriously, just go visit Cheese People. You won't regret it. I can only hope there will be more than four pages-worth soon.

Pimento Cheeseburger

Some things that I love:

1. My Sidekick

2. Pimento cheese

3. Hamburgers