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.

Getting Itchy

So, anyone else tired of winter? I know, I know. Every year with me, it's the same story. When the cold sets in, I'm thrilled to braise, roast, slow cook and bake to my heart's content. Along comes late February and I'm getting itchy for pickled green tomatoes and micheladas.

I pickled these particularly beautiful green tomatoes at the very end of summer last year. Happening upon their picture today really makes me want to pickle. And for it to be 75 degrees outside. Anyone else?

In terms of pickling, anyone have any favorite winter pickles to tide me over? Was thinking of pickling some carrots today. What pickles are you making/eating?

Chameleon of Deliciousness

Psst. Over here.

It's me, your trusty and beloved slow cooker. Any plans for the weekend? Want to - I don't know - collaborate on a project? Look, I'll just come right out and say it. I miss you.

Politics and Artichokes

Indulge me. I'm having a moment of philosophical weakness. It doesn't happen very often and I promise to reward you, somehow, later, for putting up with it. I need to talk to you guys about politics. Not American politics, not office politics, not even really food politics exactly (I promise not to talk about Michael Pollan right now), but more the politics of how we think about, talk about and own food. I've had a few conversations in the recent past that have really set me to thinking.

The first was with my uncle Mitch last week. Mitch is one of my favorite people to eat with. He's a trained chef - out of professional kitchens now - but always putting his skills to good use for friends, family and the occasional competition. He's also a fucking grump, which is what makes me like him so much. While in the midst of an excellent blogging project on eGullet with a few friends, he invited me over to participate in their "mystery basket" challenge. While we chopped, snacked and sipped - as always - on a cocktail or two, we got into a conversation about cooks, chefs and the way we define them.

More Weekend! More Breakfast!

Guys, I've gone breakfast crazy lately. Have you noticed? Of course you have. I have too. I'm not really sure what's to blame. Maybe it's the fact that my Sidekick and I see getting up just a little earlier on weekends as a very adult decision. (Please, don't panic. By early I mean maybe 10 instead of 11.) Maybe it's the fact that living in Brooklyn gives me regular access to some of the best eggs I've ever tasted. Maybe it's because I'm almost incapable of cooking for anything less than an army and leftovers are really good with eggs on top.

What Are You Eating for Breakfast This Weekend?

I have a love/hate relationship with pancakes. I love them for certain things: the occasional, buttery crunch they get on the outside when they've been cooked just right, the puffy air pockets that soak up syrup and the fact that they are one of the few foods you can eat in shapes. I hate them because they are almost always too sweet, too heavy and they are, let's be honest for a minute, very rarely in shapes. Not to mention the fact that I am usually full after three bites and hungry again in thirty minutes. It is for all these reasons that a Dutch Baby is one of the best things to happen to my breakfast life in some time.

Two Hams in the Air, If You Don't Really Care

via No One Man Should Have All That Flour

Sometimes universes collide and something really, really special happens. Sometimes, when I say really, really special, I mean a hilarious and colossal waste of time that I can NOT stop laughing about.

There's a new tumblr in the mix called No One Man Should Have All That Flour: Kanye West Lyrics Rewritten to be About Food. So hilarious. So useless. So nerdy. I hope there are more soon.

A highlight:

"Omelets Omelets
 Bacon and hot grits
 Everybody know I fuckin love bananas foster"

Happy interwebs (and regular) grazing, everyone!

And Then Sometimes, You Need to Eat Like a Caveman

I feel like every year someone tells me that the Farmer's Almanac says this will be the coldest winter on record in one hundred years. Every. Year. This year, the temperature (fingers crossed) has not been too offensive here in NYC. But - I have to inquire - is anyone else afraid that we're on the precipice of the next ice age? I mean, THE SNOW. Georgia, can you hear me?