Brave Little Kitchen

crab cakes, california-style

And now, another guest post from our West Coast contingent/BLK sommelier, Abi. Thanks, Ab!—C and T

Gentle readers, It has been far too long since I have graced these fair electronic pages. I cannot imagine the deep sense of abandonment you felt, knowing that I am so close, yet so, so far away. And I cannot deny my adoring public any longer (despite the fact that they have not spoken—I can only assume their grief keeps them silent), which has brought us to this juncture. Also, it turns out, I am afraid of making crab cakes. [How convenient for us!—C; And here I thought this might be Abi’s way of asking where we have been…-T]

a chance of meatballs

Turk and I decided to have an Italian night, so we could face two fears simultaneously: meatballs and tiramisu. We also decided to get fancied up so we could take a better profile picture (ahem, see right-hand sidebar).

OK, so, meatballs. I wouldn’t say that I’m afraid of meatballs so much as grossed out by them. I actually “make” meatballs for Jack all the time, in the sense that I assemble all the ingredients in a bowl and then make Tom do all the gross parts, i.e. mixing the meat (gag) and cooking them.

You put the lime in the coconut . . .

 

It looks so innocent...

Fresh coconut is a tough nut to crack (I’m sorry, I had to). While the part of the coconut that we eat isn’t actually a nut—it is the seed of the fruit—it is still very difficult to open.  

I am not really sure why I wanted to work with fresh coconut so much, but I do know exactly why I was afraid of it: too damn hard to get into! I remember when I was growing up hating coconut. But when I was a junior in college I went to Belize with a class and had fresh coconut for the first time. The guides leading us through the jungle got one down from a palm tree and hacked into it with a machete.  From then on out I was a goner for the stuff.

this blog is basically just an excuse for us to get drunk

Over the summer, I passed along a recipe I’d found on Pinterest to sommelier Abi, for the Honey Badger. It involved bubbly, honey syrup, fresh orange, and St. Germain, an elderflower liqueur.

Abi, being the expert [that’s what we are calling it now? – T] that she is, honed the recipe through rigorous testing. She determined that the original recipe was too sweet, so she reduced the amount of honey syrup and swapped the orange juice for lime. I like to take credit for suggesting the switch from Korbel sparkling wine (blech) to Mirabelle (yum). With these changes, it went from overly sweet to total summer cocktail perfection. Which is why we drank it every night we were in Maine.

And thus our obsession with St. Germain began.

lobster with a side of liquid courage

So . . . long time, no see. We have no good excuses. But we’re back! And we took on a challenge when we went on vacation to Maine: lobster. Now, most people would be like, “Lobster? That’s not hard!” But they would be wrong! Because do you know what you do to the lobster before you eat it? You KILL it. How many other foods do you eat that require you to kill them directly beforehand? None, that I can think of. (Unless you count picking fruits or vegetables as killing them, which I do not.) [Also, lobsters can fight back! Have you seen the legs and claws and antennae on those things? They are freaky! – T]

Anyway. I was afraid of the lobster killing part. In fact, once when I was up in Maine my friend and I decided we wanted to make our own lobsters. We bought some from the lobstermen down at the dock* and took them back to my grandparents’ to make in their Official Lobster Cooking Pot. Only, the lobsters were all squirmy and clicky in their little plastic bag. At the crucial moment—when I tried to throw one in the pot and it twisted around trying to get away—I chickened out and made my grandmother do it. True story. [You might have just hammed us. – T] And their little antennae stuck out from under the lid, twitching pathetically, until they were all done BOILING TO DEATH.

Ahem.

S’mores, mores, mores. How do you like it? How do you like it?

After the last few months off (you know the story, life got in the way) Courtney and I decided we need to revive BLK. In order to revive BLK we needed to go on vacation (okay, maybe vacation was already planned). Courtney, her husband Tom, their son Jackson, her brother Riley, our friend Abi, and I all caravanned up to Vinalhaven, Maine for a week in July.

No joke, we had been planning on going on this trip since at least October 2010 and I think we were all more than ready to be on vacation in Vinalhaven. However, with ten months of waiting and thinking of what we could make while we were there, I might have gone a little crazy. Some might say I became obsessed with s’mores. Others might say I am totally normal and to shut up if they want any s’mores desserts. [Yes, ma’am – C]

patience is a virtue (but is it worth it?)

True story: Until about six or seven years ago I didn’t like eating onions.  I was fine with their flavor and if they were in dishes as long as they were chopped finely, but I didn’t like onion rings (except for the breading), or big chunks of onions in food, or caramelized onions, or anything of the sort. I don’t really know why I had this aversion – my parents never forced them on me and I pretty much liked all other vegetables (except peppers). But then I lived with Angela, who also didn’t like things like root beer (wtf? weirdo) but would drink it anyway in an effort to learn to like it. I thought that was a pretty neat idea and followed suit; so now, I love onions and peppers.

Man, that was a good story.

 

not-so-lazy lentils

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to eat more vegetables, so I decided to try lentils next. I guess lentils are technically legumes, so they’re not a vegetable (right?), but the recipe I picked had Swiss chard and sweet potatoes in it. Plus lentils seem pretty filling and hearty – a good winter recipe.

Bacon Jam: Adventures in Thermodynamics

And now we have another guest post, this time from our West Coast Contingent, Abi (you might remember her from such previous BLK adventures as Moules Flambé.) Take it away, Abs!

Bacon:  A delicious pork product that belongs on/in pretty much everything, namely my mouth.

Jam: A sweet spread made from fruit; good for toast, sandwiches and reductions. 

Bacon Jam: Abomination or Ambrosia?

Monday afternoon I was sent a link from a friend of BLK, Fitz, to a recipe for something dubiously dubbed “Bacon Jam.” Beyond the initial mind-blowing implications of the name, I was skeptical of its delicious integrity because it came from Martha Stewart. Has anything good come from our favourite neurotic jailbird? [Hey now! I have made many things by Martha. Like marshmallows! Crap, that might not be a good example as I haven’t sent any to Abi. – T]The answer, after two days of cooking, is still “no.”  Below is a chronicle of my journey to condiment heaven.

 

I want CANDY!

Chocolate-covered peppermint marshmallows. 

Every year around Christmas I try to make some homemade gifts/treats for people at the office.  Most –  okay, all - of my past gifts have been cookies. After making a bunch of different cookies last year, I decided that was too hard and too time consuming, so I would do something much easier and make some candy.

Right, because making candy is totally easier and quicker.

I am an idiot.