One more before vacation

Here's my fair warning ... this entry is slightly more personal, centering around leg waxing (although there are no gory details per se). I would say it would be slightly more interesting to my female reader(s). Those not wanting to read further may stop here. See you next year!

Vacation prep...it always consumes my mind for about a month before we go. At least for the bigger trips. So this year, since my mind was not especially filled with exciting work things, I was really focused on the vacation planning. Well that and Christmas presents. But with nothing else consuming my mind I decided about a month ago (since we are going to sunnier climes), I would try leg waxing for the first time.

I am fairly new to the waxing fad that is currently consuming women. Let's just leave it at that. But I hate shaving every day or every other day when I'm on a vacation in which I am wearing a bathing suit every day. It's a pain... It seemed to just make perfect sense to get them waxed.

So back in early December I started growing out my leg hair to the acceptable waxing length. The first week went by without incident, and week 2 rolled around (and this will come as a real shocker to those who knew me in high school and college) and I COULD NOT stand it. The hair was long, itchy, etc... I'm not going to go into details here, but I used to pretty much wait from October until April to shave so this reaction of mine was a surprise even to me. I was very ready to abort the mission but I stayed the course.

Every day I would count down until my appointment (it was like my own personal Advent calendar). Clean, smooth, legs was all I could think about. And I was planning to get my whole legs done, not just stopping at the knee.

So yesterday was the day, I was so excited (well, as excited as you can be about getting hair ripped out of your body), and then I looked down at my legs. I thought to myself "in the context of leg waxing, my legs are kind of long." and I began to doubt my decision. It seemed like a whole lot of hair coming out.

So I set off for my appointment (after downing 800 mg of motrin), nervous, excited, nervous. I got there and pestered my waxer with questions about the painfulness of the leg waxing. She said that she'd do the lower half first and then I could stop if I wanted to.

I nearly cried the first time she ripped the wax off. And it's not like I've never gotten anything waxed before. Immediately the sweat began pouring from every pore in my body, I was happy I at least remembered that I reacted this way to waxing and wore a short sleeve shirt. 10 painful minutes later was go time on the full leg decision and I voted two very emphatic thumbs down to full leg waxing. I flipped over, and this is the disgusting part, I was sweating so much that the paper on the table was sticking to me. Talk about embarrassing. And I'm not even a person who sweats a lot, even at the gym.

I made it through the rest of the waxing and I cringed when I put my jeans back on. oww...

So, obviously the first thing I did when I got home was put shorts on. Which is when I realized that my legs weren't even smooth. They had that "day AFTER you shave" feeling! Not that "I just got them waxed" feeling I had expected. I'm sure if I were a "regular" then they would have felt great. But I wasn't. That's when I decided I never would be either. I had to go through 3 painful weeks of itchy dry long haired legs, one extremely painful appointment and I'm STILL going to have to shave on vacation (not to mention the money I blew on the appointment itself). Uh-huh, no way, this is one job that I will continue to do myself at my own leisure.

Talk about a crummy commercial.....never ever again. Someone, please point me to this entry when next year the same "good idea" pops into my head. Inevitably it will.

Sauce, good. Soup, bad.

What's better on a cold day (or on a spring-like day in December) than a good cup or bowl of soup? I would argue that there is nothing better. I like most soups, chicken noodle, tomato, chowders, stews, creamy, not so creamy, I'll go for most anything. You can even have cold soups in the summer, melon soup, gazpacho, etc.. It's also a secret way to get in more liquids if you're sick of trying to drink your 8 glasses of water a day for "feeling good, clear skin" and all the other BS. Love 'em all.

Jeff does not agree with this sentiment. After years and years of trying, I had given up on Jeff ever liking soup. I've tried all sorts of different recipes, always thinking that they just weren't tasty or spicy or chunky enough. But I had officially given up. I was done with the soups. I would still make them, but I wouldn't even attempt to serve them to Jeff. (I imagined that if I did put a bowl of soup in front of him, he would react much like Randy in "A Christmas Story" -- and it's just not funny to plan the "little piggy" game with a grown man)

About two months ago we were having a dinner guest over but it was a "school night" and I wouldn't have had enough time to cook dinner after getting home from work. So the only thing that I could think of to make was a stew, because supposedly those "get better if they sit overnight" and so I could make it Sunday night for Monday night dinner. I don't know if it's true, but it would certainly be easy. I didn't care at that point whether or not Jeff would eat it (it was his co-worker, so he could suffer for the cause). I figured he could pick the beef and potatoes out and eat them.

But, to my great surprise, he dug right in to the stew, broth and all. When questioned on this point, he said "this is not soup, this is stew." I understand that things are a bit chunkier in stews, but come on, same thing. So fine, stew was back on Jeff's list of "yes, I'll eat it."

So then, shortly before Thanksgiving I wanted to make my own mini-Thanksgiving dinner. I made a butternut squash soup because it just sounded so darn good and would go great with turkey and all the fixin's. I filled my bowl up to the top and brought Jeff out a salad. He sort of looked longingly at my bowl, as though he was missing out. Everyone knew he would not like it, but I put some in a small little bowl and watched him cringe a bit as he ate it (not because it wasn't good, it was delicious, I would argue one of the best soups I had ever made). He set it aside and filled his plate up with turkey, potatoes and all the good stuff.

I continued enjoying my soup and looked up just in time to see him dumping his entire bowl of soup all over the food on his plate. Classic.

I wasn't exactly sure how to react, but I think my puzzled, smiling, furrowing brow face said it all. To which he replied "soup...bad, but it's great as a sauce." What?! How can it be good on the top of mashed potatoes but not good with a few croutons floating in it? Curried butternut squash soup on top of green bean casserole? But not good on it's own?!

So I told this story to a friend of mine, we agreed that this was crazy and chuckled about it for awhile. She had us over for dinner a few weeks after later and she made us grilled cheese and tomato "sauce."

As long as we referred to it as tomato sauce throughout the dinner, Jeff would eat it. Someone please tell me how funny that is. He doesn't really have an explanation either, except the non-descript "It's a texture thing." Except that the texture doesn't change if you pour it over your turkey or dip your sandwich in it.

Anyways, I've learned to live within Jeff's definition of soup, I'm sorry, I mean sauce. In fact this morning I mentioned that I had asked my mom to send me the recipe for shrimp soup. To which he replied "it's a double whammy" (because he obviously doesn't like soup and he doesn't like shrimp). I quickly backtracked and said that I didn't need to put the shrimp in and that it was actually a chowder. He was relieved and it was then an acceptable menu item for Christmas Eve.

Semantics. It's not a texture thing, it's a semantics thing. I will now refer to anything he doesn't like as something else. You don't like shrimp, well, actually it's salmon that's rolled up to look like a shrimp. No, it's not broccoli, it's actually lettuce bunched up really tightly.

Here's where I want to put my mom's shrimp soup/non-shrimp chowder recipe (a classic in our household), but she hasn't sent it yet. MOM, I'm waiting!!

Rule #1: Respect the imprints

Jeff and I have had numerous conversations in the past few weeks about the subway and commuting to work. The conversation usually goes something like this:

Jeff: It feels like I'm in a cattle car every morning, there's no space and I'm pressed up against strangers.
Me: I don't really notice, I put my headphones in and imagine that I'm in my own personal space.
Jeff: There's no reason to be crammed into small cars and the subway should run more cars more frequently!
Me: Yeah, well it's better than driving. It's not so bad. I can always find a seat after Times Square anyways. Plus there's such thing as a comfortable tightness on the train. It's going to be tight, but you just have to realize that sitting or standing shoulder to shoulder isn't that big of a deal.
Jeff: Hmph. I want my own space. I don't want to feel like an animal for no reason.

Or something to that effect...

So the other day I was going to work, and I'm in training so we start every day at 8:30. This is later than I usually go in, and happens to be the worst commuting time of the morning (or so it seems from my little experience). I leave the apartment at 7:45 and am therefore catching the train between 7:50 and 7:55 (depending on what shoes I'm wearing and how fast I walk to the station), which should normally get me to work by 8:15/8:20 (yes, I'm the big loser that gets to training early -- but there's free breakfast and all the good bagels will be gone quickly).

Being the worst time of the morning to try and catch a train I had to let one train go by because I simply could not get on the train, literally, the doors closed on one guy's coat...nothing else would have fit on that train. Typically though, when a train is that packed there is another one following close behind that usually has fewer people. That was the case on this fine morning. So I get on the next train, and got a seat at Times Square.

So I sit down and open my paper (always the joyous reward for being able to sit is that I can also read the paper). I was feeling most happy because I was on the lesser packed train, had a seat, and could read my paper. Even better was the fact that it was one of the trains with the seat imprints, so it's obvious where the seats are (as opposed to one big long bench). PLUS, the seat on my left was open because the guy two seats down was sitting such that his leg was hanging on the seat next to me. That meant that only an adventurous subway rider would take the seat next to me. I may have even had a smile on my face I was so pleased with my situation. Aah, how quickly the tables turn.

So we head to 34th street and on comes the aforementioned adventurous subway rider. So this particular subway rider would not have normally fit in the space allotted as a "seat" on the subway, and certainly not fit when the guy had his leg hanging over. So, what the adventurous rider does is proceed to sit on me. No, not on my lap, but essentially on my left leg. This prohibited my paper reading as my elbows were now pressed into my rib cage.

Now, as shown through my previous conversations with Jeff, I'd say I have a pretty high tolerance for loss of personal space on the subway, but when someone sits on me? That is where I draw the line. But I couldn't really get up and I didn't really want to either, I was there first. So I rode the next 4 stops with adventurous on top of me and I had to kind of shimmy out of my seat (well, not really, but it was weird getting up).

I am not judging, and adventurous rider probably needed the seat more than I did, and I probably should have gotten up (I usually do), but that's when I decided: Rule #1 on the subway: Respect the (seat) imprints and Rule #2: KNOW YOUR (size) LIMIT! If you don't respect the limits, I am not going to cede my space. If you're not going to fit in a seat without sitting on top of someone else, you're just going to have to wait. Please don't punish the innocent on the bottom of the pile.

The best excuse ever to not workout

We all know how much I hate working out. I hate it. HATE IT. The workout machine wants to know my weight, my age, AND to add insult to injury it makes 50 minutes of my day purely miserable. I think there are many a blog entry on my hatred of it, so I won't belabor the point. So today, as most days, I headed to the gym after work. Jeff was working out by walking home (to supplement the workout he had earlier in the day - Dodge Ball, yes, while at work and yes, it was mandatory that he play) and we were going to meet at home for dinner.

Super. Working out is even worse when I have to go by myself. But I was ready for a good workout because my thoughtful employer provided a Holiday Lunch today which included delectable desserts and chocolate truffles which, unsurprisingly, I couldn't resist.

So - I stopped home, changed, and for a few minutes listened to the cat screaming about not having her litter scooped in an appropriate time frame or something, and headed to the gym. I hopped onto the elliptical machine which is my equipment of choice when I want to focus on the calorie burning and not so much on the getting in shape. I set it to my normal stupid workout and started at my usual stupid pace. The woman on the machine next to me was going at warp speed which added to my existing feelings of workout inadequacy.

At about 22 minutes into my workout the warp speed lady got off the machine and went over to grab another towel (given all the sweat being generated while going warp speed). When she got back on her machine she made some comment about some smell. I couldn't smell anything and dismissed her mysterious scents...I figured she was working out too hard so she was probably going to faint soon, and it was that "right before you faint" smell.

At about 25 minutes into the workout the firemen appeared.

Real firemen. With axes, hats and all the get-up. They indicated to me and my fellow tortured hamsters that we needed to go downstairs. Not evacuate...just go downstairs. So I grab my stuff and go down intent on finding another machine since I had eaten the chocolate goodness for lunch. I hop on another machine and about 5 minutes into my new workout the cleaning lady came over and told everyone they needed to evacuate.

No alarms, no lights, just the cleaning lady. Which was a little strange given the fact that everyone there had ear phones in their ears. But by then there were three fire trucks outside, the number of firemen had quadrupled, and they had hauled in the fire hose and completely blocked the main entrance. I figured there is really no better excuse to not working out than "my gym was on fire."

I really wanted to call Jeff and say "so the good news is...I'll be home early, the bad news is...the gym is burning" but he never answered his phone. Darn! It would have been hilarious.

Hopefully I never have to workout again because my gym burned down. That would be the best.

Halfsies

I often like to cut recipes in half, sometimes it's because there's only two of us, sometimes it's because I want to try the recipe (usually for desserts) before I waste a whole bunch of expensive ingredients (chocolate, nuts, etc....). WithOUT fail I will inevitably forget half way through the cooking process that I am halving the recipe and start following the recipe as written. It's typically not a problem if I'm cooking and I add too much garlic or something, but it's a big problem when I'm baking and it's important to keep the measurements exactly.

So yesterday I was trying a new gelato recipe. The other day I went to the bookstore and jotted down a few recipes from a book since I had trouble finding recipes online. I'm not sure if that is exactly against the rules, but two employees walked by me while I was doing it and didn't say anything, so I don't feel too bad about it. Anyways, I was trying a chocolate hazelnut recipe. I started out a-ok, I halved the hazelnuts and the milk. I "measured" the chocolate (the measured is in quotes because all I did was guess how much I should use since the recipe called out ounces of chocolate for which I had no way to measure - I need a scale) and then I put the sugar in a separate bowl and was adding the egg yolks when I realized I had done it again. But I realized that I had a larger problem on my hands. The recipe called for 3 egg yolks and I would therefore need 1.5 egg yolks. Shiiiiiiiit. Clearly, I didn't think through this one.

So I had 2 egg yolks and 6 tablespoons of sugar in the bowl and I needed 1.5 egg yolks and 3 tablespoons of sugar. Nice. So I started randomly spooning the ingredients out of the bowl until it looked right to me. What a mess!! I had egg yolk goop everywhere: the floor, counter, my arm, why is it that when I screw something up it always involves egg yolks being everywhere? And how did it get everywhere? All I needed to do was take it from the bowl to the sink (which were next to each other). Perhaps it was because the counter was completely full of bowls and pans and dishes because I had baked a batch of cookies in the morning and had not yet done the dishes. You may begin to be imaging the mess in your head. It was a disaster zone.

I continued on with the recipe and finished it. When it came to the tasting, I was a little unsure. It looked good, but how would it taste? Remarkably though, it was quite tasty. WAY too chocolatey, but that's probably because I didn't actually measure the chocolate at all. But, overall, pretty darn delectable. But it seemed like there was a touch too much sugar. I think next time I'll make full recipes, it's not worth all the egg yolk mess, for all the "savings" I get for not using as many ingredients I get much more heartache with trying to fix what I messed up.

So today is my last official unemployed entry, no Fieldtrip Friday tomorrow, and my postings may not come as frequently. Hopefully though, I'll be posting at night now, so there should be a new one bright and early for you, I'm still aiming to post close to every day, but we'll see how it goes.

Yankee Fans

So I'm about to make some very large and sweeping generalizations, and I am very well aware that this does not apply to all Yankee fans, as I certainly have some very good friends that are Yankee fans, but alas I will proceed at my own risk.

So I come from a big baseball family. For any who attended either my or my sister's wedding can attest, from the "Chrovian sister toasts," there's a very deep rooted history of baseball in our family. We'd always go to opening day, plus many a visit to the ballpark during the season. Unfortunately for us, with the exception of the 1984 season, we only had the Tigers to root for. Bummer. So as I got older, I watched fewer games on tv because I think (unless it's October) that it's nearly as dull as watching golf, or watching grass grow, but I still love going to the park.

Anywho, back to the Yankee fans. So yesterday afternoon I headed to the gym. I am very very selective about my workout equipment (like most things in my life), and there is only one brand of a certain piece of workout equipment that I'll use. So I hopped on it and started my workout. I noticed two things as I began sweating to the oldies:
(1) my iPod had the last sliver of battery showing, kind of mocking me as I started the workout. This is serious bad news in the workout world as it means I would be forced to watch some nameless, faceless awful daytime show they have on the tvs which were directly in front of me
(2) two of the tvs in my direct line of sight were showing the same channel

So I was very careful about choosing my fast forwards, as I believe this quickens the drainage of the battery (I don't know if it's true, but the backlight comes on for a brief moment - I know I can change that setting, but once you've realized you're on low battery I try to not make any sudden moves around the pod). I still got the battery of death symbol about half way through the workout.

Right about the time when the battery of death popped up, I saw a guy making hand gestures in front of the tv and the channels started flipping on the tv in front of me. So, he's changing the channel. Fine, I realize that two of the tvs are showing the same thing, but this was the one RIGHT in front of me. No polite "do you mind if I change this" or "are you watching this" which is pretty standard protocol. Especially if it's right in front of someone.

So, as you may have guessed, he wanted the Yankee game on. Not only did I now have no dreamy workout soundtrack of my choosing blaring in my ears keeping those legs pumping, but I had to watch baseball. And not just baseball, Yankee baseball. Yankee baseball is what is wrong with this country, it's like silver platter baseball. Like the 20-somethings who feel like they deserve everything and really already have a whole heck of a lot, or really, everyone who is given everything on a nice silver platter. Not that I've really had to claw my way up, but at least I never felt like I expected everything, and I'd have to say I've put in my fair share of blood, sweat, and tears. Any questions on that can be referred back to my sister and brother-in-law whom I lived with last fall (for one recent example).

Anyways, Yankees, right. It's the team that's always good, so even if you're a fair weather fan, there's always something to cheer for. I would describe myself as a fair weather fan for many sports, but I think those seasons of poor performance give you a chance to rebuild your love for the team when they come back strong and you love them even more when they're good again. It's way better than buying your way to the top. So I strongly dislike the Yankees and I strongly dislike Yankee fans. I won't say hate, that's a strong word.

I especially dislike Yankee fans who change the television station at the gym (without asking) while I am forced to watch it. I also dislike the Yankee fan who changes the channel at the gym and then WALKS AWAY. I even more dislike the Yankee fan who then comes back to check the score 20 minutes later and cheers audibly and claps at and INSTANT REPLY FROM ANOTHER GAME. I also dislike the Yankee fan who gets his weights, brings them back and stands in front of the tv (and me) lifting the weights AND who bends over in his white shorts while I'm trying to work out. Speaking of white shorts, I dislike the Yankee fan who wears white shorts, black tank tops, white wrist (sweat) bands, black gloves and a white bandana with black accents. Who matches their outfits for the gym?

I think I'm going to cheer for the Mets. Unless the Tiger's get good again, of course. My sister always told me that I liked to cheer for whomever was going to win. She was right, for the most part, but I'm not sure I'll ever cheer for the Yankees.

By the way, I don't really hate all Yankee fans, I don't even think I can generalize this experience to one other Yankee fan, but it sure was funny. I don't even hate the Yankees, I don't even think about them enough to hate them (or strongly dislike them).

Back to the Basics

So yesterday, with about three hours on my hands to make dinner, I decided to go for the easiest simplest dinner, one which would take very little effort and time. One of those "let's see what's in the fridge and what I can make with it." Well, obviously, since I was the one who went to the grocery store and picked out everything I had a pretty good idea of what was in the fridge and what I could actually do with it (or at least I had thought briefly about it when I put the groceries into the cart).

Anyways, I wandered into the kitchen and started pulling everything out of the fridge. I decided on simple roast chicken breast, yukon gold potatoes (preparation was not initially defined), and something with green beans, asparagus and tomatoes and maybe edamame. So I started with the chicken, because I knew that would take the longest. Onto a pan, a little olive oil, a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper and into the oven at 375. I had about 35-40 minutes until that was done so I focused on the potatoes. Since I like my roasted potatoes crispy I usually cook them at 425, and the oven was already in use at a much lower temperature, so I decided to just saute them. But, I don't always like pan sauteed potatoes because I have found that I have to use more oil because they need to cook for awhile (although I suppose that I could put a lid on and partially steam them), I decided to par boil them and finish them off in the saute pan. Then I could add some garlic because it would be a quick cook and the garlic wouldn't burn. I freakin' love garlic and potatoes.

Chicken and potatoes done. Now onto the vegetable. Since I had some boiling water (from the potatoes), I decided to blanch some green beans, asparagus and edamame. I chilled them and sort of looked at them trying to decide what to do. Back to the fridge/pantry. Out came: dijon mustard, feta cheese, onion, red wine vinegar, olive oil and tomatoes. So I made a dressing with the mustard, vinegar and olive oil. Sliced some cheese and tomatoes,diced the onion and tossed it with the greenies. With a quick taste...mmm...delicious!

I also grabbed some thyme from the fridge and threw it in the pan with the potatoes, again with a good sprinkle of salt and pepper. Chicken came out and everything was done. All at the same time even, which is always a big big problem for me. To my great surprise this very simple, quick dinner was delicious. Jeff even ate the green beans...a rare feat. I think feta cheese helps him to digest it, or maybe he was just starving and I gave him no choice.

Then, last night was the first night in which we had an ice cream craving and didn't go get some after the gym (actually I had an ice cream craving...but then again I'm usually the motivation for the post-work out ice cream treat), but that's because we had strawberry "gelato" at home. Although it isn't my perfect gelato, it still tastes awesome after the gym.

Soooo...recipes! I haven't posted any in awhile, but here's the recipes for my super simple recipes from last night (if you couldn't have figured them out from my descriptions):

Roast Chicken Breast
2 chicken breasts, skin on, bone in
olive oil
salt and pepper

Pre-heat oven to 375. Put chicken on pan and sprinkle with salt, pepper, and olive oil. Put in oven for 35-40 minutes until skin is crispy and juices run clear (I think the internal temperature should be 165 but don't quote me on that).

Garlicky Delicious Pan Sauteed Potatoes
About 4 handfuls of Yukon Gold Potatoes (enough for two)
1 T olive oil
1 clove of garlic
thyme (or any of your favorite herb, fresh)
salt and pepper

Put potatoes (whole) in a pot of cold water and bring to a boil over high heat. Add salt to the water. Cook until the potatoes are almost cooked through (knife goes in with a wee bit of force). Keep the water on the heat if you're also cooking the veggies. Cut the potatoes in quarters (I like keeping them whole while I boil them because I think, maybe it's not true, that when you boil the potatoes already cut they get a little water logged) Heat a saute pan over medium heat, and add the olive oil when hot. Add the garlic and immediately add the potatoes. Add salt and pepper. If it looks like the garlic is going to burn add a LITTLE white wine or broth or something (it will reduce the crispiness of the potatoes a touch, but at least you won't have burnt bitter garlic), then reduce the heat cause it's too high. Cook until the potatoes are done and add the thyme towards the end of the cooking.

Green Bean, Asparagus, Tomato, Edamame, Feta Salad
Any combination of green beans, asparagus, tomatoes and edamame to fit your taste
2 -4 T of finely chopped onion
~ 1/4 cup diced feta
1 heaping teaspoon dijon mustard
splash of red wine vinegar
1 T olive oil
Handful of parsley

Blanch the greenies in boiling, SALTED water. Chill in an ice water bath. Chop the tomatoes into large-ish pieces and cut the feta into cubes. Whisk together the mustard, vinegar and olive oil. Toss everything together and add some salt and pepper. Taste and make sure it's delicious.

The Early Rounds

This weekend I decided to break into the ice cream attachment and see what I could do. I wanted to start slowly, with a sorbet, and seeing I had strawberries in the fridge, I decided to shoot for a strawberry sorbet. I found a recipe (I wasn't going to go it alone for my first try). After making my strawberry puree I realized that I didn't even have a quarter of the amount that I needed to make the recipe, so I started rummaging through the fridge.

I came up with a partial bag of frozen blueberries and a frozen banana, and in they went. Adding a bit of sugar, a touch of milk and a splash of freshly squeezed orange juice, I thought to myself that this was incredibly simple, and I hoped for the best. I had to chill the mixture for a couple of hours before putting it in the ice cream maker for 20 minutes. After that, into the freezer for a couple more hours. Hmmm....maybe this is the annoying part of ice cream making, and I am NOT a patient person.

After dinner Saturday I busted out the strawberry, blueberry and banana sorbet. Boy, did it taste good. It was however, very strong on the banana flavor, in fact it was mostly banana sorbet (which sounds disgusting, although it was quite tasty) with a hint of blueberry and a touch of strawberry in the background. The texture was great though. Not bad for the first try. Motivated by the results, I stuck the freezer bowl back in the freezer for round 2 on Sunday.

I scoured some of my cookbooks and a few websites for a gelato recipe for Sunday's attempt. In one of my Italian cookbooks I found a recipe for a strawberry gelato and zeroed in on that one. The recipe had three ingredients: strawberries, sugar, and cream (I know, gelato is not supposed to have cream, but it only called for a quarter of a cup, so I went for it). It was, again, super simple to make, although, again requires a few steps which is kind of annoying. Although, I have to say, it is a fantastic weekend activity.

So after our tasty ragu bolognese dinner, we certainly needed an Italian treat for dessert as well, so out came the strawberry gelato. I would call it "gelato," it was tasty, but lacked that characteristic creaminess I love in gelato. Maybe it was because I don't actually really like strawberry ice cream, but I don't think so. So, this isn't going to be as easy as I would have hoped. At least all these trials have been pretty darn tasty. Keeps me motivated. I think I'm definitely going to have to go for a hazelnut trial next. I am having some trouble locating gelato recipes though; I found one that included corn syrup and powdered milk - I'm not sure that gelato, which prides itself (if an inanimate object can pride itself) on having all natural ingredients, is supposed to have corn syrup. Gross. I think I may have to take a trip to the bookstore and see what I can find.

I'm not giving up yet, you can't break me this easily Mr. Ice Cream Maker.

Fieldtrip Friday V: The End of an Era

Today's a big day, as it revolves around my favorite morning soap opera/news show. So in order to continue with today's posting, I must reveal what my favorite trashy morning show is to my four loyal readers; it is The Today Show. I'm a loyal fan. Every morning I tape it and watch it. Granted this only started happening once I stopped actually having to get ready to go somewhere, but in the past whenever I haven't needed to go to work or school I was also dedicated to the show.

Since this week Katie Couric announced she was leaving the show after 15 years, I decided that my fieldtrip today would be to go down to Rockefeller Plaza and try to get some pictures of her on the show (no, I was not trying to get on tv, but that did happen to be an unintended consequence, I guess I'm two for two for the past two Fridays). I actually had to set an alarm this morning; 6:45 my phone/alarm went off. I had somehow convinced Jeff to walk with me to get a bagel and then walk together down to his work/Rockefeller (they're relatively close, or at least one is mostly on the way to the other). So we both rolled out of bed before 7 this morning and got out the door just after 7. And, YES, I did remember my camera AND I put fully charged batteries in before I left as well. Although I was feeling slightly under the weather (what I fondly refer to as "the day before you're sick" feeling), I pushed through for the sake of Fieldtrip Friday.

Since I am a freakishly loyal Today Show fan, I knew they always headed outside around 8 AM, so my goal was to get there by then. I walked up around 8:05 and saw Matt Lauer and Al Roker "out on the plaza" but no sign of Katie. I was desperately hoping that I hadn't missed my chance. I snapped a few (not so great) pictures of Matt and Al and hoped for another appearance. I positioned myself so that I could see them when they came out from inside, so no matter where they ended up taping the segment, I would at least get a view/shot of Katie if she came out again. LUCKILY, I had my chance about a half hour later. I saw Al and Matt come out and, gasp, stand right in front of a group of Ohio University students (Matt's an OU alum, see I AM a freakish fan) which happened to be standing right next to me. I was disappointed, no Katie. And then, at the last minute she ran out (literally), and I think my heart actually sped up a little. I didn't actually think I was that big of a fan, and I'm terribly embarrassed to admit it, but alas there it is. I'm usually not so excited when I see famous people either (in fact I mostly think to myself, "huh, there's so and so").




Anyways, I got two pretty darn good pictures, one of Matt and one of mostly Katie with a random OU student.

Pretty exciting stuff, huh?










So, anyways, it was a pretty exciting morning for me. But, today's title, "The End of an Era" not only refers to Katie, but unfortunately it also refers to my Fieldtrip Fridays. Some of you know, I'll be starting as a Sales Associate at a major national retailer next week. While I still plan to go on many fieldtrips (I'll be off at least one weekday a week), they may not be appearing exclusively on Fridays, I'm really just trying to keep you guessing. I'm sure though, with this position, I'll have many an exciting story to tell, it may just provide enough material to launch this blog to prime time (highly doubtful).

Stay tuned!

Leader of the Pack

No, no, no, the leader of this pack is not me. No, not Jeff...yes it's absolutely our crazy cat. Seriously, crazy. She'll follow us around and then bite us (fine, nip us) when we pet her (which we'll only do after she gives us the squeak which we have interpreted as wanting to be petted, perhaps we need to refine our cat language skills). She has the most energy of any 3 year old cat that I know of, perhaps it's because we feed her kitten food? Somehow I doubt it. She's either sleeping or running wildly around the teeny apartment, it's like she's a goldfish, she forgets that she just ran through the living room and does it again.

She has been especially spoiled since I arrived without work to this great city. Tuna for lunch, sometimes turkey...prompt feeding times in the morning, hours and hours of head scratching and petting, and pretty much all the attention she wants, she gets.

So in return, we ask little, maybe a little purring every once in awhile, and for pete's sake, if you see a bug, KILL IT! Don't watch it run by and go under the sink. Don't wait for us to half kill it for you to finish the job. You have one instinct, and that is to chase birds and bugs, so come on little kitty, we've held up our end of the bargain, now it's your turn. You chase your little stuffed bear around the entire apartment for hours. Think of it as training for you.

As you may have guessed, we had a little buggy visitor last night, and the cat was interested in it, but not enough to actually get it. She camped out by the sink after it ran under there, but I'm not sure that counts. So after the bug debacle we went to bed, only to wake up in the middle of the night to the cat pushing both Jeff and I completely out of bed. She had taken over the middle section of the bed, lying sideways, pushing each of us to our respective edges of the bed. And, of course, she got all sorts of head scratching all the while she's pushing out of bed. Wait...this is her reward for not killing the bug? Hmmm...sounds like we're the enablers.

And then, this morning after her morning ritual (kick us out of bed, get breakfast and going back and sleeping in our still warm bed) she wandered out into the living room while I was "housewifing it" (read: watching morning crap tv), meowed at me until I made room on the couch for her, jumped up, flopped down on top of me and then proceeded to bite me until I got off the couch. And that, my friends, is the last straw. I'm not sure what kind of recourse I have, perhaps next time I won't make room for her, maybe today she'll only get 1 hour of head scratching.

Yeah, if I think I'm lucky, it's nothing compared to our little show girl. Yeah, fine, so we got her de-clawed, but I think she leads a pretty good life, right now she's got the whole couch while I'm in the crappy chair. Maybe if she weren't so furry it would be easier to kick her off her throne, unfortunately the furry little face is irresistible. But I swear, if I'm pushed out of bed again tonight, I will not pet her in the process.

Day of Ice Cream

So to "indulge" and treat myself yesterday on the big day, I decided, that instead of sitting home all day feeling old (which I felt), I would seek out the best ice cream place in New York (at least best according to 2 sources). Not just an ice cream place, but a gelato place.

Now I have very very high standards for gelato, which is why I have been eyeing the KitchenAid ice cream attachment for my stand mixer (so I can make it myself). When we went to Italy in 1989 (see, I am old), I was introduced to gelato and even at that age I instantly appreciated its creamy texture. I fervently talked about the goodness which is gelato until I was able to go back to Italy two years ago. It was February when we were there two years ago, but that certainly didn't stop me from feeding my gelato obsession. I made a beeline for the gelato shop as soon as we arrived. I was a little nervous that I glorified it in my memory, but it was just as good as I remembered. So anyways, I'm always a bit nervous about eating gelato in the U.S., because I never think that it's going to be as good, just for the sole reason that it wasn't made in Italy. Zingermans, however, pretty much has nailed it right on the head, unfortunately we don't live walking distance from the Creamery anymore (maybe that's a good thing).

So anyways...I found a gelato place in NY, lower east side, pretty close to Chinatown, and I decided to make that my indulgence for the day. I was actually saving it for a Fieldtrip Friday, but I figured it would be appropriate to enjoy a sweet treat while I was feeling old. The shop, Il Labortorio del Gelato, offers 12 new flavors every day, and I was lucky enough that the classic (well my classic) flavor, Hazelnut, was available. They also had some very non-traditional Italian flavors, including red bean and black sesame (red bean is a very traditional Chinese flavor, and I'm not sure about black sesame). I decided to be a bit adventurous and a bit classical and went for hazelnut and black sesame, and they definitely lived up to my expectations. The black sesame was a gray color (it was kind of gross looking, a little like squid ink) and tasted sweet with a hint of sesame seeds. Quite and unexpectedly tasty.

So what makes gelato so much more tasty than any ice cream ever made? What's the line between gelato and ice cream? Things I had heard through the grapevine...fresh ingredients, less (!) cream, more eggs, but I decided to investigate...

According to Wikipedia, it does have less cream, does use fresh ingredients (should be made and eaten in the same day), but doesn't use any eggs (or maybe it can, but it's not necessary). It contains about 4 - 8% fat (vs. 10 - 18% for ice cream) and is made with whole milk. The big difference is the freezing technique. For gelato, a forced air freezer is used not a regular freezer, to hold the entire product at the same temperature, and it is super cooled as it freezes and ice crystals are broken up as it cools (I'm guessing this is why it's so creamy) and also has less air than regular ice cream. It is served in a semi-frozen state, again unlike ice cream. So what does this mean? That I can't make it myself, DAMNIT! I guess I have to wait until I open my restaurant/store so I can buy myself a special gelato freezer.

But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try...with my new ice cream attachment for my KitchenAid...getting older does have its benefits.

What you can find on a 9 mile walk

Lesson learned...it is not nice to take your house guests on a 9 mile walk through the city. There was a groin injury and countless blisters suffered by our guests, but there were some good things. We certainly saw lots of the city, especially lots of the east side. It would have been a bit shorter if my 2006 restaurant guide was indeed up to date. Alas, it was not, and we were forced to back track to a new (and undeniably better, even though we didn't actually taste any food from our original choice of restaurant) restaurant. The "new" and "second" option for lunch on our hike from hell (actually, I'm not sure anyone would characterize it as such, but I felt really bad since it wasn't really advertised as a 9 mile walk) was Katz's Deli. We were on the lower east side and we wanted a deli, so we were in the perfect place for the best deli sandwich, EVER. EV-ER.

Apparently, we were the only ones in the dark about the deliciously unbelievable deli gem. I had actually heard of it, but it was not what I had thought of when I had heard of it previously. And with all of my Zagat grazing, I'm surprised I hadn't made a bee-line for Katz's 6 months ago. Regardless, I made it, and I'm in love.

It's a much different deli experience than I have ever had in the past. You walk in the door and get a ticket, much like a raffle ticket, and told not to lose it (if you do, it's a $50 charge). There's a bunch of tables, a huge long deli counter and lots of guys working behind it. You can get in line at any of the "carvers" - which was a little confusing although there were signs everywhere. We also found that there were a few tables that had waiter service, but I actually think I kind of liked the do it yourself nature, plus we didn't have to wait long at all. The carver then marks your ticket with what you ordered and you pay as you walk out the door.

So my absolutely favorite deli sandwich is: turkey, corned beef, cheese (preferably muenster or provelone), cole slaw and russian dressing on rye. Not seeing it on the menu, I just went to the counter and ordered turkey and corned beef with russian dressing (that too was not on the menu, but I figured it would be reasonable to expect they could make it, which was true). I'm not sure why I didn't get all of my favorite ingredients, but I figured I'd test the waters, you never know, too many things and your order may come back wrong or if you're not familiar with the restaurant the flavors may compete too much with another (if they don't have it on the menu, there may be a good reason why). While the "carver" is carving the meat for your sandwich he cuts a little taste nugget for you while you wait. To wet your appetite I guess, at least that's what it did for me. The most tender juicy turkey (warm) that I had ever had, and a corned beef that wasn't too corney and just perfect (also warm). The dressing wasn't mayo based (I don't think at least) and I was a little afraid I wouldn't like it. But turns out that was fan-freakin'-tastic too. Anyways, there were three of us and we got 2 sandwiches and an order of fries. The other sandwich in our party was their famous salami.

Now, I've always been a salami fan, one of those things that (in the words of my dad), "I like so much I can't eat." And this is one of the best salamis ever, I think it was because there was a hint of garlic in it. Regardless of what it was, it was delicious. And apparently everyone else knows how good their food is, because there are a million pictures on the wall of all the famous people with Mr. Katz (I'm guessing it's Mr. Katz in all the pictures, but I'm not really sure who Katz is). It is also where the famous scene from "When Harry Met Sally" was filmed...you know the one..."I'll have what she's having."

So the food was awesome, but unfortunately, I thought sadly to myself that it's so out of the way for us, that I'm afraid it's only going to be a "when we have visitors" type place. Which makes me very sad. It was the perfect food to feed our bellies through the trek through the city. Next time I promise to do a little more planning ahead of time, although, this time, we found the best deli ever (and yes, it's way way better than the Carnegie Deli). Maybe I shouldn't be in charge of plotting the route. Just finding the restaurants.

Pay a lot for dinner...get breakfast too

Don't worry, I'm back. After a week of fun filled adventures, and preparing for fun filled adventures, I'm here to write about them. I'll begin with Saturday night, we went to Gramercy Tavern, the #1 rated by Zagats for 2006. We arrived at 6 PM for our three course prix-fixe menu, unsure of exactly what to expect. After a false Simon Cowell we settled on some delicious cocktails to start. And then the bread man came, the first of at least 5 visits to our table. No, you don't get a basket of bread, a waiter comes and puts the bread on your plate each time the last morsel of bread is gone. I love that. Especially when they're on top of it and always there with the next piece when you're ready. It helped that the bread was really really good.

It became clear very early that this was going to be the 3-hour meal for which I was hoping. Shortly after we selected our first and second courses (or perhaps it was right before), they presented us with an appetizer, yes, that's right, presented to us. Simultaneously, two waiters came and gave us each the appetizer at the exact same time. That would continue for each course throughout the meal, I think that was my favorite part of the meal. The appetizer (not included as one of the courses) was the teeny tiniest bruscetta, or maybe crostini (I'm still not sure I know the difference) that I've ever seen. Smaller than bite size, but still quite delicious. We got three of these bonus mini courses, the second one coming after our first course (that sounds weird) and the third coming right before dessert. Each was just as small as the first, but all very very yummy.

So if you include all the itsy-bitsy courses, it was a six-course meal, which took about 4 hours. The wait staff had an uncanny ability to know when we were ready for the presentation of the next course, we were left alone just long enough before each course, which I probably appreciated the most about the meal...or maybe, it was the fact that they gave us breakfast for the following morning. What? Yes, that's correct, a nicely packaged muffin for our enjoyment after we left the restaurant. It's a whole new realm out there...go for dinner, get breakfast. Maybe that's why it's so expensive, if you just divide the price of dinner by two (because you're getting two meals "for the price of one"), it doesn't look so bad. I'm definitely a fan of this trend. No more chocolates with the bill; it's like going to a wedding and getting to take a piece of cake home. I think it's a trend that should definitely be adopted. Thumbs up for the breakfast with dinner.

Definitely a few firsts for me. Bonus courses, bonus breakfast, all very very good. So good in fact, I had to come home and go straight to bed. I got all worn out from the marathon eating. Actually, the amount of time we spent at the restaurant was about the same time it might take someone to run a marathon (not me of course), isn't that crazy? I'll take eating at a fancy restaurant over running any day - a big thank you to my eating buddies for the indulgence!

Fieldtrip Friday IV

I decided since I absolutely did not need any new cook or bakeware, or really, anything new for the kitchen, that today I would go and visit two cooking supply stores. Often times I not the most logical person, I should go to a supply store when I actually need something (mostly because we all know that it would be very difficult for me to leave the store without buying something). But I had my mind made up...kitchen supply stores it was.

Desperately hoping for a beautiful spring day, and feeling awfully defiant, I wore my spring coat for the adventure (yes, that's as rebellious as I get). It's funny though, really, I was the only one who was going to suffer if it wasn't warm out, it's not like I would hurt Mother Nature's feelings or get something in return for taking a stand. As it turns out, it wasn't very warm today, but I didn't freeze to death (I did bring a hat and gloves, I told you, I'm not that rebellious). It was trying very very hard to be warm, but it was cloudy. I did, however, see a few people wearing flip flops or shorts or tank tops, so I guess I wasn't the only one feeling the need for spring. Definitely not warm enough for flip flops.

Anyways, I checked my route with google maps and headed out the door with neither a map of my route, or hand written directions, a first for this anal Fieldtrip Fridayer. I did however, take a map (like previously mentioned multiple times, I am both anal and not crazy), so I guess I wasn't being too wild, although it felt that way. It was a 6 mile walk (I did take the subway home, only so I could write this before all three of my readers went to bed), so I planned for a couple hours of fun. The first place was on the east side, in midtown, so it was a nice stroll through the park, and like a typical new yorker, I chatted on my cell phone almost the whole walk.

When I got there (Bridge Kitchenware), I think my heart skipped a beat. From the outside you could see piles and piles of cookware stacked up. The place was pretty tiny, but it had everything a cook could dream of. All the things from Williams-Sonoma that they stock only for holidays (heart shaped things and leaf shaped things and Christmas papers and things), plus every other pot and pan and utensil in every possible size imaginable, holy cow! It felt a little old and dusty in the place, but everywhere you turned there was a new discovery. Not actually needing anything, I wasn't looking to buy, unfortunately I left the store with a wine foil seal breaker thingy (we actually did need one of those and I never knew where to get a new one) and a biscuit cutter, as I had been wanting one for awhile. What I really wanted but was able to restrain myself was a cast iron sandwich press, it was a pan the exact size of a slice of bread. Perfect for grilled sandwiches. But for $8.50 I decided to wait on it (I would have needed to buy two anyways to press down the sandwich with the 2nd pan or to make 2 sandwiches at once).

So it was on to my next stop, which was down in SoHo, my new favorite neighborhood. To get there I went through Washington Square Park where I hadn't been since last summer, when Jeff and I wondered through after a 10 mile walk of the city (the big arch that's in the Friends opener that resembles the Arc de Triomphe in Paris). I like it there.

As I approached SoHo the sun began to shine and it solidified my new obsession with SoHo. I really feel like the sun always shines there, or maybe it was just my imagination...or maybe I was in a movie and it was a little pathetic fallacy. Anyways, I made it to stop 2: Broadway Panhandler. I was expecting sort of the same thing, and from their website, I was kind of expecting weird stuff, not well organized, again, kind of dusty and old. But boy, was I surprised. Yes, it was kind of a cramped store (although probably double the size of the first store), but every where you turned there was a new treasure. It was also better displayed than the first store as well. They had all the stuff as the first place, and more! Every Le Creuset and All Clad pot and pan you could imagine, more knives than I ever thought possible, plus all sorts of cool dishes and mugs and cups and napkins and you name it. Very cool and eclectic stuff plus all the basics. I was sure, by the second I walked in that I would definitely not be leaving empty handed. After one stroll through the store, I didn't want to leave, I wanted to keep wandering around, but I knew the more time I spent there the harder it would be to leave with nothing. So the first thing I picked up, not very exciting, were a couple of candles (we have these candle sticks that I've never been able to find replacement candles for), and then I found new latte mugs!

We always always have our eyes out for mugs for lattes, it's a difficult thing because most mugs are huge, even a normal coffee mug is too big for a latte. We currently have two mugs which are absolutely perfect but we're so afraid we're going to break them, so we're always looking for new ones. Anyways, there was actually a large variety of mugs that fit our bill and I carefully selected two. And the last thing I got was (not terribly exciting to most, but exciting to me) was a can of Baker's Joy. Flour and oil in an aerosol can so you don't have to butter and flour your dish when baking, which I find to be one of the most annoying things about baking. I know Pam has recently come out with a similar product, but I've heard great things about the Baker Joy brand.

So, not too bad, I made it out without breaking the bank. All very good purchases. However, I did find the Panhandler was a bit more expensive than the Bridge Kitchenware; they too had the cast iron sandwich pans, but for $11.50. Quite a markup. I didn't check All-Clad or any of the Le Creuset stuff that I knew the price of Williams-Sonoma, but I'm guessing it's probably pretty comparable. Although, I've heard the Panhandler has a blow-out sale every June and August.

I'll definitely be going back again, maybe next time when I actually need something. But it certainly was fun wondering around those stores. Another Fieldtrip Friday success (maybe too successful with the un-necessary purchases).

Oh, by the way, coverage next week is going to be spotty. I know you'll all be very sad. I'll write when I can, but it probably won't be very often. Back in full force the week of the 3rd!

It never tastes right

I have tried over and over and over again to make good Indian food. And it's never right. I've tried buying the best curry and garam masala (or I guess, what I thought to be the best, which still didn't come from an Indian food store or spice store, so it probably wasn't the best). It's always ok, but not nearly as good as what you can get from a restaurant. It's very frustrating. I'm starting to get mad.

I didn't even like Indian food until probably 5 years ago. And yes, I had tried it. Although I don't think I had tried good Indian food from a good restaurant.

Part of the issue is that I was always kind of afraid of those recipes that had a ton of spices, I was convinced that I could make a good recipe just by using garam masala or the curry spice mixture that I bought from the store. Either I wasn't doing it right or didn't have the right recipe, either way, not good.

So one day I decided to buy every Indian spice that I could find from my local grocery establishment. Including cardamom, I'm sure I'll never use it, but I can't ever blame my lack of spices anymore. Then I tried another recipe with all my new spices and it was too "spicy" - not hot, but just too much stuff. I think the issue there was that the recipe called for whole spices, and it's not nice to bite into a whole clove. Maybe I should have tried toasting and grinding them. It's always something.

Another issue is that we prefer our Indian food to come in a sauce. Nothing better than mopping everything up with some Naan and rice. So that's also slightly limiting. Maybe the problem is that I'm just too picky. But everything from restaurants is good and nothing from my kitchen is good.

So last night we went over to a friend's house for Indian food, and all of my theories of good Indian food were blown out the window. We had a spinach and lamb dish that had neither a sauce nor a ton of spices, and it was delicious. So, back to square one. I got the website from which the recipe came (http://www.kabobandcurry.com/recipes.htm) so I'm definitely going to try some things out.

I have no recipes for you today. I can't make Indian food. It's never good. So if you have a good recipe, let me know. Maybe next week will be Indian food week.

The long walk to the gym

You could describe us as "worker-outers" - we go to the gym, if for nothing else then to be able to maintain our food gorging habits (see Shake Shack). Every night it's our ritual: dinner, chat/read/watch tv for an hour or so and then begin the "I don't want to go to the gym" conversation. Inevitably, one of us will yell "come on get up, let's go." It then takes us about another half an hour to get dressed, pet the kitty some more, get a last minute sip of water and actually get out the door.

So the overpriced gym that we go to is only about a block away (maybe as far as a block and a half), but when you're walking so slow you're practically going backwards it always feels like it takes 15 minutes. Maybe because we have lead feet in anticipation of the torturous activity in which we are about to embark.

Last night the conversation on the walk to the gym was "when are they going to have a pill for this? I'll totally buy that shit." No, but seriously, it's so odd to me that people go to the gym (myself included). It's so hamster-like, run around on your little wheel for awhile; the only difference is that it's probably fun for hamsters. No one really likes working out, and if they do, they're lying. Or, they're not actually getting their heart rate up high enough for it to be a cardio work out (aka "torture").

FINE! Maybe I am a cynic. I really only work out so that I can eat more ice cream. No other reason; not to be "in shape" or "be healthy." Pshaw...give me more ice cream! In fact, nearly every night after we go to the gym we go to Tasti-D-Lite, which, I know, is not real ice cream, not even close, but sometimes it's the only thing that'll get me out to the gym. In fact, most of the time while I'm on the hamster wheel (aka treadmill) I'm thinking about my next meal. Maybe it's a little coo-coo, but hey whatever gets me through those 45 minutes.

We thought that maybe since we pay too much for a gym membership that it would make us want to go more. Free snacks, water with cucumber slices, fancy juice bar...unfortunately none of those things make me want to go to the gym more. However, Jeff figured out the per day cost of our gym membership, so what sometimes works in motivating us to go to the gym is reminding ourselves how much money it is if we don't use the gym that day. Guilt...works every time.

Maybe one day there will be a pill, but for now the best part of working out is still hitting the "Stop" button. Plus, it always means that ice cream is just around the corner.

Shakin' it at the Shake

Wow. What an adventure! And when I say adventure, I mean exercise in waiting very very patiently while you are very very hungry. Made all the worse by the fact that I was waiting for burgers and shakes, two of my most favorite things in the whole wide world.

We arrived at the shack at 12:45 to a very long line. I had had an errand to run earlier in the day, so I had been wondering around outside since 11 AM, with a few stops at a few stores. Needless to say I was quite chilly and definitely ready for some food (especially since I normally eat lunch at 11:30). We were able to wet our appetite with a taste of the custard of the day, cinnamon toast. And boy did it wet my appetite. Even though it was cold out, I was definitely planning on getting a shake, if for no other reason, so I could pretend that I was at the DQ for the cold opening.

At 1:35 we had placed our burger orders, a single for me with a shake and a double for Jeff with an order of fries. There were 7 of us, so at least waiting in line was fun, even if it was for 50 minutes. As a nice little gift for coming out on opening day and waiting in the cold, we were each given a $2 gift certificate for our next visit. Oh, but don't think the wait was over yet. Then, you get in the line to get your food. There, you're waiting at a window with hot food coming out; forced to smell the burger aroma. At about 2:05 our order number was called, hallelujah! There was definitely a fist pump on my part upon hearing my name called.

We grabbed a table and pulled out the burger jems. They looked dee-licious. However I definitely should have gone for the double, I was STARVING! Next time.

I bit into the burger and I knew we were working with a high quality burger. It was really really hard not to eat it really fast, but I slowed myself down with big slurps of my shake. I probably could have done a much better evaluation if I weren't so cold or so hungry. I would have to agree, it was a very good burger, although I would have like to have seen more shack sauce on it. But, it still doesn't live up good ole' Red Coat burgers. I also wish that I wouldn't have had to wait for nearly an hour and a half to eat. Although I very do much appreciate the fact that I have time and can enjoy such meals. Next time I'll have to go when I'm not so hungry so I'm not so incredibly starving by the time I get up to the window. The shake was also very very good, but I think the custard is better just by itself, it was UN-believably creamy.

I am definitely a fan of the Shake Shack. I think that it actually is a good thing the wait is so long (and from what I hear, it's always that long, not even just on the first day) otherwise I'd be there every day for lunch!

Mmm...full tummy...time for a nap.

Spring has arrived and so Shake Shack opens

Although I've never been there, I've been assured, it's very good. I am very hopeful I will find an end to my burger quest and although it is 25 deg outside, I will most definitely be having a shake (and yes, we eat outside). We will be going for lunch today, so unfortunately you'll need to wait (I know, I'm torturing all of you) until I get home from lunch.

Read up and get excited: http://www.shakeshacknyc.com/

Corned Beef First Timer

As you all remember from Friday's post, we finished off the week last week with a "traditional" corned beef and cabbage feast for St. Patrick's Day ("traditional" because I'm not sure our mates over in Ireland really had it as a traditional meal).

Well the corned beef making started early last week, Tuesday actually. I wanted to get the beef brisket "corning" before that, but alas, we were enjoying our "break" from the winter in Arizona. However, it appeared from the wide variety of recipes that I read, that 3 days of brining would be sufficient. So it was off to the grocery store for my first ever brisket, and I went for the biggest one they had 3.5 pounds to be exact. Yes, I was only cooking for two, but I was already dreaming of the leftovers...corned beef hash...grilled sandwiches....mmm.....

The brine was pretty easy, and included your typical suspects: salt, water, sugar, mustard seed, allspice, peppercorn, etc.... It was a good thing I had recently reinforced my spice collection, because I'm not sure I would have necessarily had all of the requisite spices. But I was lucky enough to find all the ingredients in my "pantry." The only issue with the brining process was, as you can imagine, I needed to brine it in my biggest pot, and I needed to keep this biggest pot in my fridge, and well, my fridge isn't so big. We pretty much lost an entire shelf for the week, but it was well worth it. Every few days I'd peer in and make sure everything was a-ok with my brisket. Not much to look at really, but to make sure it was still completely submerged.

As Friday approached I began to get a little nervous, I've never had a ton of luck with the slow cooking, it never seems to be quite as tender as I'd like. I checked in with my mom probably about 3 or 4 times during the week, over IM, over the phone, over e-mail, then double checking again with Grammy. I wanted to make sure it was going to work, but my mom had always made her corned beef from pre-corned (brined) meat and always in a slow cooker/roaster.

One of the things that I was debating was cooking it on the stove top or in the oven. For some reason I wanted to do it on the stove top, I think I was afraid of repeating the pork butt dry out. So I did in fact start the corned beef on the stove, but after an hour of running in and out of the kitchen adjusting the temperature of the burner, I decided to throw it in the oven, at 300 deg. I was really nervous because when I pulled it out to put in the veggies it seemed to be boiling pretty hard and part of the meat kept poking up above the water. I was convinced that it was going to be dry and tough.

As the 3 hour witching hour approached I was standing over the oven. And almost exactly three hours after I started the whole cooking adventure I checked in on my corned beef. To my surprise, it seemed like it was relatively tender, not quite as tender as I would have liked, so (and I'm not sure why I made this call) I decided to let it go for about 20 more minutes (until Jeff would be home). When I finally pulled it out, the potatoes were perfectly soft and the carrots were tender, and it appeared as though the meat was falling apart tender, stringy and perfect. The only thing left was the flavor. I was sure, again, that it wouldn't really taste like corned beef as I know and love. It certainly didn't have the distinctive red color on the outside (which I think is from the nitrite saltpeter that is used by manufacturers who corn it for you), but all my worries floated away instantly when I took my first bite.

It was perfect, just as corned beef should be. Jeff, who's not even really a fan of corned beef to begin with, described it as "exceptional." And it was even better the next day when I made reuben's, my way, with just cheese, coleslaw and russian dressing (but it probably was made better by the fact I did make the coleslaw and russian dressing myself), and then even better in my corned beef hash Sunday morning.

I think corning it myself and going through all the trouble was well worth it. It's definitely going to be a yearly thing for me, but, even if it's not appropriate, I may need to do it even more often than that. Being patient for half of a week is difficult, but definitely a good thing in this case.

Here's the recipe I used, from the Food Network (I kind of combined a few recipes), although I changed the method a bit. And I did cook the cabbage separately (Jeff does not like cabbage and won't touch it with a 30 foot pole) but still in the same cooking liquid.

Corning Brine and Corned Beef Recipe
Water (to cover)
1 c salt
1 c brown sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons whole coriander
1 1/2 tablespoons whole mustard seeds
1 1/2 tablespoons whole black peppercorns
1 1/2 tablespoons whole allspice
4 sprigs fresh thyme leaves
2 bay leaves
1 (2 1/2 to 3 1/2 pound) brisket

I threw all the spices in the pot and then rubbed it on the meat and then covered with water, as the originally recipe said, but I think it would be better if the water was heated and the salt and sugar was dissolved first while the remaining ingredients were rubbed on the meat, but either method should be fine. Let it sit in the brine for 3 - 10 days in the fridge.

2 sprigs of thyme
4 sprigs of parsley
1 bay leaf
1 t black peppercorns

1 - 2 c of baby (or cut up) carrots
2 c of baby potatoes
1 small head of cabbage (or 1/4 to 1/2 of a large head)

Pre-heat the oven to 300 deg. Take the meat out of the brine and thoroughly wash it off. Put it in a dutch oven, and cover with water. Bring the water up to a boil and turn the heat down and simmer for 10 minutes, skimming off scum as it appears. After 10 minutes, taste the water, if it's too salty, start over with fresh water. Add the thyme, parsley, bay leaf and peppercorns and put in the oven. After about 2 hours, add the carrots and potatoes and cook for an additional hour or so, until the meat is very tender. Pull out the meat and veggies, put the pot back on the stove, bring to a boil and cook the cabbage for about 10 - 15 minutes until tender.

Enjoy the leftovers in sandwiches, hash or whatever you can come up with!

Fieldtrip O'Friday III

Being St. Patrick's Day and all, I decided that the perfect fieldtrip for myself today would be...dun-da-da-dah, the St. Patrick's Day Parade. Yes, there is a St. Patrick's Day Parade in New York, we don't have a green river, but we do close off a huge chunk of Fifth Ave for an afternoon of fun. But, you're going to get double your money's worth with this entry, because I also went to the DMV, or the "License Xpress" DMV to get a NY State Drivers License. Two adventures, all in one very green day.

I had to plan my "St. Patrick's Day '06" day very carefully, as I was planning (and am currently doing) to make an actual corned beef for corned beef and cabbage. But, as you may know, this takes many hours, so I had to be home early enough to get 'er in the pot for dinner tonight. 3.5 pounds of brisket waiting to be enjoyed. Anyways, the parade started at 11 AM at 44th street and worked its way up to 88th (I think, maybe 86th), so I decided to leave our apartment at 11, hit Starbucks and head across the park for the parade. I was then planning to walk down to the DMV (34th street, right by Macy's) after I had enough parading.

I very carefully packed my bag, for this was a real adventure, two stops all in one day: newspaper and book (for waiting at the DMV), water, camera (yes, I actually took it with me), apple and soup in a thermos (well, I would need some nourishment throughout the afternoon).

I arrived at 81st and Fifth around 11:20 or so, and the parade had not yet made its way up there; taking the NYC St. Patrick's Day Parade Website's advise, I headed to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to sit on the steps. Much to my dismay, the police had surrounded the steps and completely barricaded them off. Stupid website. But I was able to find a seat on a ledge of the museum, which was perfect, it was in the sun and the wind was blocked by the building. I realized that this was infinitely better than a Thanksgiving Day parade for one small reason, it was March, spring is coming in a week! It's not -30 degrees and my toes aren't frozen to bits, even with the chemical feet warmers. It was sunny, there were birds! I was dressed in a cotton sweater and my puffy vest, no hat or gloves...ahh, I love the St. Patrick's Day Parade!

After I decided I loved the parade (that hadn't actually gotten to me yet) I busted out the camera to take a picture showing that the parade wasn't there yet, so essentially a picture of nothing, when after taking the picture (or perhaps during the picture taking) the batteries died. I had the best of intentions, there really were going to be pictures this time..stupid camera.

I then called my mom to chat a bit about my corned beef adventure for the afternoon while I watched green balloons, green cotton candy, irish flags, green dr. suess hats and the like go by (this was before the parade started). Soon, the police car came leading the parade and I settled into my seat. Suddenly my stomach growled and so I pulled out the still very very hot soup. You can't even imagine how good it was (yes, I still had leftover pasta e fagioli from the other night, and yes, it was still delicious, especially because it was hot and it was cold outside). I had to pat myself on the back for thinking of packing it.

The parade mostly consisted of police officers, veterans, various military groups (army, marines, reserves, I'm not sure I couldn't tell them all apart) plus some bands - my favorite was the all bag pipe band, I'm not sure I could handle it any other day but today. No floats, which was too bad, imagine a shamrock float coming down Fifth Ave. Lots of men in skirts, both in the parade and not in the parade, and Rudi Giuliani (not in a skirt though, but that would have been awesome)...I had two thoughts while watching the parade:

1. Parades are funny (especially those with nothing to see but people walking). People who are in them are looking at the people on the sidewalks and people on the sidewalks are looking at those in the street. Everyone waves and smiles. A little curious, but everyone seems to enjoy themselves.

2. It seemed as though all of the police force was walking in the parade today, so I wondered, who exactly was on duty and where were they?

So the answer to that question came as I was walking to the DMV. As it turns out, the police people who aren't in the parade are stationed on the streets...outside the bars. Ha! That to me is awfully hilarious, duties for Friday the 17th were either: bar or parade. What a great day!

So my two favorite things that I saw today:
Runner-up: Guy with died green hair. What made this good though, was that he had a very very short buzz-cut so it looked much more like died green head. Classic.
Winner: Totally unrelated to St. Patrick's Day, unfortunately, but again while walking to the DMV, I saw a guy carrying a plastic naked headless mannequin. To be fair, it was the "Fashion District" (I'm not sure if that's an official district or not), but it still brought a smile to my face.

And on to the DMV, which was much less of an adventure than what I was hoping for. Since this location only handled licenses, everyone was pretty much there for the same reason. After our third try at attempting to get a license, I finally had all the correct paperwork: passport, social security card, Michigan license, and my driving record (which cost $7 to get). No, I'm not kidding, you actually need all that. But the whole thing was relatively well run, they have an information booth that you have to go to either get a number or forms. They make sure you have everything before letting you get in line. Then I was sent to take my eye exam and get my picture taken, let me assure you, it's not cute. Then I got a number to go to the counter, pay my $42.50 and get my paper temporary license. For $42.50 I get a piece of paper? Are you kidding me? So glad I didn't do this last week when we were traveling on the plane. Not sure they would have let Jeff rent a car either. Yeah, so a paper license is what I have now, they took the Michigan one away, no long teary goodbyes or anything, just whisked away. Good thing I do have a passport because if we want to get rockin' tonight at the bar, there's no way they'd let me in with a piece of paper (although my eye wrinkles are making my license less and less necessary when ordering drinks).

Anyways, I'd say this was another successful Fieldtrip Friday, lots of walking, lots of enjoying the city and lots of people wearing green, just as it should be. Stay tuned however, for Monday, where you'll get to read all about how the corned beef came out. I know, I know, you're going to be at the edge of your seat until then. Happy St. Patrick's Day, kiss someone (Irish or not)!

My "Bye" Night

I got a "bye" last night, which is how I refer to a night when I get to make something up because I'm on my own for dinner. It can be very fun or terribly frustrating, depending on how quickly it takes me to decide on something for dinner. So last night I was left to fend for myself. Jeff was staying at work for a tech talk (which I was invited to as it was open to the public, but I politely declined), so it was dinner on my own. Most nights, if this were to happen I would immediately hit the deli for a tossed salad. I don't often have the patience to make up recipes, and I don't often take advantage of bye nights. But having just gone to the grocery store and completely filled up every free "nugget of space" in our fridge, I felt like it wasn't necessarily the best decision on my part. And, I had all the fixin's to make my own salad. But somehow, the idea of making my own salad didn't sound as appetizing as going out for a salad, weird, but true.

So, struggling to figure out what I should do for dinner I went to the gym (a "fun" habit of mine, thinking of dinner ideas while I run on the treadmill). To me, when I have dinner by myself I try to make something that Jeff doesn't really like all that much (or at least he doesn't like my version of it because I don't add enough cream, butter or cheese, which I think is perfectly fair). All of my meat was tied up in the freezer and I wasn't in the mood to defrost it, so I was limited to vegetarian dishes. So that left me with a few ideas: soup, polenta, or something involving tuna fish.

Bored out of my mind on the treadmill, I came up with nicoise salad (although I had neither olives or green beans, it didn't matter, I really just wanted the egg and tuna). Which was a bit funny to me, given that before I left for the gym I was not in any sort of mood to make my own salad, but I think the nicoise salad is different enough and not really an option at the take-out salad bar. Even funnier, though, was that by the time I got home I really wanted soup. I should have just gone out for a salad instead of wasting my time trying to decide what I wanted to make, but now it was a challenge.

Thinking I didn't really have many soup ingredients on hand (although soup comes in so many different styles and varieties, really anything can be a soup ingredient), I settled on a version of pasta e fagioli. I reviewed a couple of recipes and then headed into the kitchen and started adding things to the pot. Since I didn't have a ton of stock on hand (project for today), the soup was incredibly thick and, remarkably, very delicious. One of my best thrown together meals in awhile (and I did have a "side" nicoise salad with the soup for dinner). And, since it was soup that I was making, and it needed to cook a bit on the stove, I was able to finish all the dishes piled up in the sink while it cooked. Awesome...I love dishes, but at least the kitchen was clean by the time I finished cooking dinner.

As it turns out though, this made a huge pot of soup, definitely enough for more than just one (but I do have a delicious lunch waiting for me in the fridge). But its really quick and easy, so you should definitely try this recipe. Unless you live with someone that doesn't like soup...or chick peas, then all bets are off.

Caren's fake pasta e fagioli (I can't claim that I'm Italian, and I don't know what makes a pasta e fagioli a pasta e fagioli, so I'll just say this is probably close, but then again, maybe not)

1 T olive oil
1 medium size onion, rough dice
1 - 2 carrots (or a big handful of baby carrots), chopped
2 celery stalks, diced
4 sprigs of fresh thyme
2 - 4 T of fresh parsley, chopped
2 - 3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 - 2 T tomato paste
1 (28 oz) can of canned tomatoes
1 can of chick peas (or cannellini beans or kidney beans, but I like the taste of chick peas the best)
3 - 4 cups of broth (that's all I had, but you could use more to make it more soupy)
1/2 - 1 cup of pasta

Heat olive oil over medium high heat in pot. When hot (not smoking) add the onion, thyme and parsley. Season with salt and pepper. Cook until the onion has softened a bit (couple minutes) and add the carrot and celery, add a bit more salt to draw out the moisture. Cook for 5-6 minutes until the veggies have softened (it could have been longer or maybe shorter, I don't really remember). Add the garlic and tomato paste and cook for a minute, stirring frequently. Add the canned tomatoes and broth and bring to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until al dente (about 10 minutes depending on your noodle choice) and then add the chick peas and heat through. Taste the soup and make sure it's delicious, add salt or pepper if needed and add a bit of parsley right at the end.

I also think that adding a bit of white wine right before the broth and tomatoes would be fantastic, but I didn't feel like opening a whole bottle just for cooking (we don't have one of those "suck the air out wine savers" to keep the wine fresh).

Yum! I can't wait for lunch today!

Grill Pan: the good, the bad and the ugly

First of all, sorry for the late post today... I promise to all 3 of my readers that I'll try to be a little more prompt. Today was the big Crate and Barrel interview...I'll be sure to let you know how it went.

On to the topic at hand, the grill pan. I think the grill pan is a great invention. Especially for the unfortunate souls without access to an outdoor grill (c'est moi), or those who don't wish to brave the elements in the middle of winter to grill. It definitely took me awhile to really come to appreciate this cooking tool, although I'm not really sure what I was afraid of. I grill everything on my grill pan(s): bread, vegetables, meat, panini...one of my pans is one of those reversible griddle ones, in which I can do an entire breakfast with eggs, pancakes and sausage all with one pan (on the griddle side). Again, great for the NY kitchen with no dishwasher.

So, I'm sure you're beginning to wonder...so I understand the "good" but I'm not sure I understand the "bad and the ugly." So if the grill pan is one of the best inventions for the home cook, then the cast iron grill pan is one of the worst. THE WORST. We're now about to cover "the bad and the ugly." So cast iron will be a topic for another day, and when I do write that entry, you must remember the whole time you're reading it that cast iron grill pans are completely exempt from everything I write about regular cast iron. So, cast iron needs to be seasoned, you know, oiling it up so it doesn't rust, things don't stick, etc.... Fine, I still don't like the seasoning process much, but I can live with it. But let's think for a few minutes about a grill pan. The whole idea is that there are grill marks, right? So there are raised indentions on the pan. Fine again, but let's take a step back and imagine, for a minute, you are at your outdoor grill. You are grilling (mmm..smells great already) and the food's ready. What do you see on your grill? Little browned bits kind of burnt to the grill. No problem for an outdoor grill, right? Next time you heat it up, you'll burn it off and scrape it down.

Ok, back to the cast iron grill pan. Imagine now you are done cooking your food (I do have to admit the cast iron grill pan does cook the food better), and there are the same browned bits (no matter how much I have seasoned the pan, they are still there, which I don't get with a regular cast iron pan. I think because typically when you're using a regular cast iron pan you're using a lot more oil - i.e. frying bacon or chicken or corn bread where you melt a lot of butter, so you're, first of all, not essentially burning meat to the pan and you're doing a lot more seasoning of the pan because the oil gets absorbed better because you're cooking with it). --that was a huge side thought in parenthesis, now back to the browned bits on your grill pan.

So what to do about them? I could do the same as with an outdoor grill, turn up and the heat and burn it and scrape it off, but not only disrupt my neighbors and send the cat running for cover when the smoke detector inevitably goes off, but the scraping would ruin my seasoning progress. Fine. I did some research and found that kosher or rock salt was one of the best ways to clean cast iron (just like when we were in the Grand Canyon hiking and cleaned our dishes with sand, it's great abrasive to get the oil out, but it also won't scratch the seasoned surface). So, I've tried this a few times, and it works great, but here comes the ugly...imagine what happens after rubbing the pan with salt (I've used paper towel, but I'm sure there's a better thing to use), is that you have brown bits and black salt in EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THE GROOVES in the pan. And, you would think that you could just "dump it out" but the inside of the pan is a little sticky, plus the way the sides of the pan curve, there isn't really a direct path out of the pan. So then I spend 20 minutes trying to get the salt out of the pan. Without fail, it's a frickin' mess. Worse than doing dishes. In fact, typically if I do end up cooking with the cast iron grill pan (which I do still from time to time because I always forget the pain), the pan sits on the stove for about a week because I won't let Jeff touch it and I have to work up the energy to attack the pan.

There is one good thing about the cast iron grill pan, if you have a fatty piece of meat that you're grilling or a very very well oiled piece of bread dough, and there are no browned bits (which I think have maybe happened only once or twice to me) then there are NO dishes to do, just re-oil the pan and put it away.

Overall, the grill pan is a great thing, or as Martha Stewart would say a "good thing." What I really like about it is that it provides a great way to cook up food rather quickly and easily, it sort of simplifies the cooking process (plus everyone says "ooooh" when they see cross-hatched grill marks), and I typically find a way to grill my entire meal so that there's only one pan. But whomever came up with the cast iron grill pan needs to go back to the drawing board, or at least the non-pre-seasoned cast iron grill pan, needs to go back to the drawing board.

So grill up dinner tonight, meat, veggies, fruit, you name it, you can grill it (last night we had buffalo chicken grilled for buffalo chicken salad). It's quick and easy and you might get a gasp of joy from your family when they see those grill marks.

Oh, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY KELLY!

Chicken Cordon no dinner Blues

I'm not sure that I've actually ever made chicken cordon bleu before last week. I've had it many times, my mom used to make it all the time. And I loved it...ham, cheese, breaded chicken. You can't go wrong with that. What I never understood was how she got the ham and cheese to stay in the chicken without it seeping out the side, it was one of those unexplained mysteries. Her little secret though (sorry for divulging it mom) was that she bought them pre-made (although that doesn't explain why or how its done, it is easier to understand given that they were probably sent down some assembly line).

I'm not sure why I've never made it; I've done all sorts of different versions of it - not breaded, no cheese inside, putting the ham and cheese on top instead of inside...just about any variation that you can think of, I've attempted. And I've done all the variations because I was always afraid that I would have a cheese disaster seeping out during cooking. And I'll have to say that the real thing is the real deal, it was definitely way better than any of the variations that I had previously attempted. But, that's not to say it wasn't tricky to make sure the cheese and goodness actually stayed on the inside and didn't seep out. It was definitely a lot easier than I had imagined, and with a few key steps it is pretty darn simple and definitely worth it.

So here are my tips:
1. Pound the chicken out really really thin, almost until its shredded (but don't go that far or your cheese will definitely seep out). It cooks faster and its much easier to handle and is more pliable the thinner it is.
2. flour...egg...breadcrumbs. Probably the key to the whole thing. The process of dipping it in flour, then egg, and then breadcrumbs will effectively seal everything in. Then, when you put them in the pan, make sure the oil/pan is hot so that everything seals up right away when it goes into the pan.
3. Don't be afraid of toothpicks. You can even take them out before you serve it (or if you have someone that tends not to chew his/her food before swallowing, you can leave the toothpicks in as an attempt to slow them down when they eat. You should, however, warn your family or your guests, because that's just mean if you don't). Take the edges and weave a couple toothpicks in the edge to keep everything together. Or you could go for the butchers twine, but I mostly find that to be unruly and difficult and everything always falls apart anyway.
4. Don't overstuff it. If you put 5 slices of cheese in the middle, you're going to have some leakage, guaranteed. Come on...think about it. There just isn't that much room there.

The result is a tasty, cheesy chicken dish that is sure to please. I got multiple thumbs up at various points throughout this dinner.

Chicken Cordon Blue (for 2)
2 chicken breasts
1 egg
2 slices of cheese (muenster, provelone, mozzarella, swiss - which is classic, but use whatever you've got)
2 slices of prosciutto (use the good stuff, it definitely makes a difference, I definitely would not recommend using regular ham, it just doesn't have enough of the salty goodness flavor that you get in prosciutto
flour for dredging (seasoned with salt and pepper)
1 egg, beaten (seasoned with salt and pepper)
breadcrumbs for dredging

Heat some olive oil in a pan over medium-high heat. Pound the chicken breasts until they're about 1/8 to 1/4 inch thick (I like to put them in a ziploc bag and pound them that way). Put a slice of prosciutto and cheese and fold the chicken in half, closing the edges with toothpicks (two per chicken breast should be fine). Dredge the chicken in flour, then egg, then breadcrumbs and put into the hot pan. Cook until golden brown on each side, probably about 5 minutes per side.

No more chicken dinner blue's with this one!

Out of the Office

I am currently out of the office until Tuesday, March 14th. If you need immediate assistance in the meantime, read some of my old posts, they're pretty good too.

Birthday Banana Creme Pie

It all started last year when we went to Vegas for my sister's birthday. Some time during that trip we had a most delightful dinner at one of Emeril's restaurants (I think it was NO Fish House). As dessert approached I began eyeing the menu, as I have a relentless sweet tooth. One thing, which I never ever order, that was on the menu, was banana creme pie. No, I did not order it. But my cousin did. Thankfully, she was too full to finish it and Jeff and I devoured the rest of it, with each bite being better than the last. I am neither a very big "fruit dessert" kind of person, nor am I a banana person nor do I really like the idea of a "creme pie." However, this banana creme pie can only be described as heavenly, melt in your mouth perfection.

So sometime last summer, we were going over to one of our friends' house and I was in charge of dessert. Wandering around the grocery store thinking about what to make, Jeff immediately and enthusiastically insisted upon banana creme pie (this was the only time I made it for a non-birthday event). Not having a clue what you actually need to make it, I called my mom and Grammy. Unfortunately, my dad answered the phone and the ladies were not around. He asked what I was up to and I asked if he knew what was in banana creme pie, remarkably, he rattled off a bunch of ingredients, and if I remember correctly (I may be glorifying my dad's ingredient list) he got them all right. Although he said I needed pudding mix, and of course the recipe would actually call for making your own homemade "pudding" or creme, but the ingredients that we hadn't thought of (like cornstarch) I had on hand.

When we got home from the store I dug up (i.e google searched it) Emeril's recipe for banana creme pie and it looked hard but do-able. The recipe needs at least 8 hours, so I started right away. First is making the "pudding" part and chilling it, then the crust, letting that cool, then layering the crust, bananas and "pudding" and chilling the whole thing again. The hard part is making sure you don't scramble the eggs but thicken it enough to hold its shape. For being a banana creme pie "newbie" it turned out pretty good. The flavor was definitely right on, but it wasn't as thick as I would have liked.

The next time I made it (and how it became known on the circuit as the Birthday Banana Creme Pie - actually I think I'm the only one who calls it Birthday Banana Creme Pie, but I don't think it's a misnomer) was at one of Jeff's friends birthday parties. I also made an apple pie (it was the fall) but that seemed to fall by the wayside. The real star was the banana creme pie. It was just as messy as the first time, impossible to cut cleanly, but just as tasty. However, the reviews were unanimous. De-frickin'-licious. In fact, the birthday boy of the evening polished off the pie in bed, eating it right out of the pie dish.

So last weekend we were off to another birthday party (this puts the count at 3 birthdays), and this birthday boy has a few allergies, but the banana creme pie was one of the few things that was a "safe" dessert. So I bought four more pounds of bananas and all the cream that's fit for a kitten and planned yet another banana creme pie kitchen adventure (it literally takes all day and requires a plethora of kitchen tools). However, this time, I found a different Emeril recipe. The ratio of ingredients was a bit different (same technique same ingredients, just different amounts), and it looked like it would come out a bit less runny (because there was more cornstarch). So I opted for recipe #2.

After the first 4 hours I already knew the texture would definitely be much more stiff, the question was, would it be too stiff?

After a half hour subway ride turned into an hour subway ride ("we are waiting for the train in front of us to move") I was sure that the pie would be a melted mess, but it held up just fine (thank you pyrex insulated carrier!).

The pie was able to be cut (and I also made some modifications to the crust as well which made it not so crusty) and I think the verdict was that recipe #2 was the clear winner. I actually personally would have preferred a filling that was somewhere between #1 and #2, maybe I'll do some experimenting...

You really need to be up for a day of cooking and cleaning (or maybe not if you have a dishwasher) to try this one, but you'll be very very very happy you did. The pie is awesome. It takes maybe an hour to two (maybe less I don't really remember) for all of the prep and cooking and at least 8 hours additional chill time (in two different steps, at least 4 hours each). Below is recipe #2, and it's Emeril's recipe, available on the Food Network. If you know someone with an upcoming birthday, surprise them, ditch the cake, make a pie.

Banana Creme Pie
4 cups heavy cream
1 1/2 cups whole milk
1 1/2 cups plus 2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1 vanilla bean, split in half lengthwise and seeds scraped (In my mind, you MUST use a real vanilla bean)
3 large egg yolks
2 large eggs
1/2 cup cornstarch
1 recipe Graham Cracker Crust, recipe follows
3 pounds (about 9) firm but ripe bananas, peeled and cut crosswise into 1/2-inch-thick slices
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Combine 2 cups of the cream, the milk, 1/2 cup of the sugar, the vanilla bean, and the vanilla seeds in a large heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a gentle boil, whisking to dissolve the sugar. Remove from the heat.

Combine the egg yolks, eggs, cornstarch, and 1 cup of the sugar in a medium bowl, and whisk pale yellow in color. Set aside.

Whisk 1 cup of the hot cream mixture into the egg yolks. Gradually add the egg mixture to the hot cream, whisking constantly. Bring to a simmer, stirring constantly with a large wooden spoon to cook out the cornstarch and the mixture thickens, about 5 minutes. Strain through a fine mesh strainer into a clean bowl. Cover with plastic wrap, pressing down against the surface to prevent a skin from forming. Chill in the refrigerator for about 4 hours.

To assemble, spread 1/2 cup of the custard over the bottom of the prepared crust, smoothing with the back of a large spoon or rubber spatula. Arrange enough banana slices (not quite one-third) in a tight, tiled pattern over the custard, pressing down with your hands to pack them firmly. Repeat to build a second layer, using 3/4 cup of the custard and enough bananas to cover, smoothing down the layer evenly. For the third layer, spread 3/4 cup of custard over the bananas and top with the remaining bananas, starting 1-inch from the outer edge and working toward the center. Spread 1 cup of custard evenly over the bananas to prevent discoloration. Cover with plastic wrap and chill for at least 4 hours or overnight.

In a medium bowl, whip the cream until soft peaks form. Add the remaining 2 teaspoons of sugar and the vanilla extract and whip until stiff peaks form.

Graham Cracker Crust:
1 1/4 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/2 ripe banana mashed

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Combine the graham cracker crumbs and sugar in a medium bowl and mix well. Add the butter and banana and mix well. Press the mixture into a 9-inch pie pan. Top with aluminum pie tin and with a circular motion, press the crust tightly into the pan. Bake until browned, about 20 minutes. Cool.