The Way Marcella Told You to Make It

I remember cotton candy. I remember one of my little hands in my mother's milk-soft hand and the other in my father's leathery baseball mitt hand. I remember white overalls with paint splotches on them. Wearing pig-tails that fell into ringlets. I remember running toward something, the zoo or State Fair, a spectacle larger than my brand new brain could understand. I remember being swung back and forth by my arms through the air, and my parents being really excited to show me something. But most of all, I remember cotton candy.

Seriously. These are your ingredients.

This is one of my first memories. And one of my favorites. I have no idea how old I was. Maybe three? It stuck with me. I totally abandon all culinary principles in favor of cotton candy every time. There is a picture of this moment somewhere. **(Update: Not just somewhere, after the jump! Thanks, mom!)** Even if it were lost, it's been permanently burned into my cortex.

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:

On Treading Water and Bulgarian Feta

A few quick notes.

1) Moving is crazy.

2) Do not get sick or hurt, ever.

So, we're treading water a bit. Having just recovered from an apartment move and with my Sidekick on the mend from a herniated disc, the food we've been putting in our faces has relied largely on the two following principles: how quickly can I do this, and with how little heat?

Which is where Bulgarian feta comes into the picture.

Swoon.

A few weekends ago, the wind took us up to Williamsburg, landed us at Dram for a few cocktails, then on to Pies n' Thighs for a hedonistic bloodbath of fried chicken consumption. At Dram (which is a delight in a sea of overpriced, over-styled, overblown meat markets) my Sidekick ordered a bartender's choice with Rye, spirit-forward, as he is wont to do. The lovely, capable, tattooed girl behind the bar brought him Archibald's Last Memory. It was so delicious and so unlike anything we're currently drinking that my wonderful, obsessive Sidekick purchased each ingredient and went to work re-creating it. Filmed by McPickles, performance and editing by Fred Swayze. Please to enjoy.



Buyer beware: one of these will make you feel drunk.

Learn to Steal

Sometimes I run out of ideas. Sometimes, I feel like I make the same soup, stew, roast, braise in different variations over and over again.

 

And then sometimes, benevolently, someone will invite me to dinner at their place and inadvertently give me something to steal. Which is exactly what happened when some of our dearest friends invited us over for a Feast of an Indeterminate Amount of Fishes.

Pimento Cheeseburger

Some things that I love:

1. My Sidekick

2. Pimento cheese

3. Hamburgers