Hard to Find Time

Wow... I thought this was gonna be easy... expect more posts soon.

If you're not Cooking with Cast Iron...

... you need to get your @ss down to the store and buy some!!!

There is simply no better pathway to perfectly cooked food in the comfort of your own home.
Enameled cast iron is even better since it's non-reactive, easy to clean and looks cool when not in use.
The density of the cast iron provides pinpoint control over the heat you apply to your foods and ensures that the temperature of your pan doesn't drop rapidly when you add food to it. It is the ONLY way to get a good sear on your home cooktop.
The steak with brandy sauce in the photo above got a sweet sear in some olive oil and garlic in a cast iron pan and then finished in the oven at a comfy 250 degrees.

Cookies and Booze

Anyone who knows me knows that I don't consider baking one of my talents in the kitchen. The reliance on accurate measurements, order and consistency chafes my very nature.
So it is on very rare occassions that I fire up the oven and stand mixer for something other than a pizza crust.
I really don't know why, perhaps it was my wife mentioning cookies, but I decided to dig into her baking cookbooks for a little foray into the world of sweet morsels. I figured I could devise some way to make the rote act of baking more interesting.
What I wound up creating was pleasantly surprising given my aversion to all things baked and I even figured a way to harmonize several great ingredients... butter, sugar and liquor!!!
I'm calling them Kahlua Crescent Cookies.

Kahlua Crescent Cookies

2 - sticks - butter
3/4 - cup - sugar
3 - cups - flour
3 - tsp - fresh ground Ceylon Cinnamon
1 - tsp - powdered sugar
1 - Tbsp - Kahlua
1 - Tbsp - DiSaronno

Preheat oven to 350 deg F.
Beat the sugar and butter together.
Add Kahlua and DiSaronno, beat to combine.
Sift flour and 2 tsp of cinnamon into the creamed butter. Beat to combine.
Roll a small amount of dough between your palms, allowing it to stretch into a tapered log by placing more pressure on the outsides of your hands. Bend each cookie into a crescent and place of either a greased baking sheet or a silicon mat.
Bake until golden (12-15 minutes), remove from oven and allow to rest for 3-5 minutes.
Combine reminaing cinnamon and powdered sugar and use to dust cookies.
Transfer to a wire cooling rack.
Enjoy with milk or coffee.

What is it about America?

I've been thinking a lot lately about the eating habits of this country. I know there are more important issues facing this little rock we all live on but I really really dig food so it's a favorite topic of thought and conversation around here.

Many brilliant people have weighed in on the subject, linking our predilection for shrink-wrapped, individual serving size, "just 3 minutes and it's piping hot out of the microwave" eating to a variety of factors... urban sprawl, the disintegration of the family unit, the pervasive availability of processed foods, great marketing, the idea that we're drawn to things that we know are bad for us... but I believe there's something more, something sinister lurking below the skin on your chemically enhanced, shelf stable, lovingly congealed and emulsified salisbury steak gravy.

I suspect it's an outgrowth of a much larger epidemic sweeping across this great land... conformity, the destruction of individuality and what grows from that bad little seed... the death of taste and style, the demise of the concept of just plain giving a sh*t... about anything!

We have developed a frightening culture based on instant gratification and glossy packaging, all driven by that most banal of prime movers... the lowest common denominator. You know him or her, you've seen em, you may even look down your l.l. bean-clad nose at em. They're usually wearing a t-shirt proclaiming their love of middle American heroes who fake fight in spandex shorts or drive obnoxious, overpowered stock cars in circles for four hours. I'm completely convinced "that guy" is a far greater menace to our way of life than any profiteering captain of industry or religious fanatic from a foreign land. Have we all truly become that comfortably numb? I sincerely f*cking hope not!

Admit it, fast food eaters, microwave jockeys, lovers of all that is heat and eat... you know this stuff tastes like crap, yet you eat it anyway. Chances are you got your introduction to it when you were young, impressionable... your undeveloped taste buds incapable of distinguishing between the reconstituted onion bits on your Happy Meal and a real, fresh, lovingly and expertly prepared vidalia. You didn't know any better, and you were an unknowing hostage being led down the subterranean staircase by Mayor McCheese and his sadistic cronies.

That one small unnoticed compromise was your first step down a path that has led to hours of reality tv consumption, a love of really bad pop music and a deep burning desire in the pit of your stomach for trans fat and msg.

But there's hope... it starts when you realize that there's a better way. Never before in the history of the world has it been easier for Joe Average to gain access to great ingredients and culinary knowledge. The boundaries of "what we know" about food are constantly being pushed in new directions while supermarkets increasingly cater to discerning shoppers.

And, if you really want to get down to it, while those luxuries are a great boon to the home cook, none of them are necessary components for eating well. People have been doing it for centuries... hell they're doing it right now, every day, in some of the crappiest, most economically depressed places on Earth, where the poor indigenous peoples are eating far better than anyone who just unwrapped a $5 hamburger. They do it out of respect for tradition, out of necessity, out of care for loved ones and for the pure enjoyment that comes with savoring the fruits of your own labor, skill and dedication.

After all, is it really any more difficult to throw a roast and vegetables into your oven for an hour than it is to wrangle all the kids into the minivan for a noisy, stress-laden trip down to the local plastic and naugahyde shrine to scary clowns and free toys for some meat-sprayed, processed patties made of soy and unspeakable animal parts?

Another Thursday Night

"I got hammered"
Stories of brain cells past stagger their way across this autumn evening's congregation when professional drinkers commiserate over several pints.