My dad, the foodie

Dad: What's this?
Me: Baba ganoush, baba ganoush*
Dad: What's in it? I'm not going to eat something if I don't know what it is.
Mom: Just try it.
Dad: I don't like it!
The Chef: Have you ever had it?
Dad: No, but I don't like the way it looks.

Brief staredown between all parties.

Dad tries the baba ganoush with the homemade pita chips The Chef made at home.

Dad (excited): This tastes like ham salad!

Penny, The Chef, Mom: ::facepalm::


*Singing my most-excellent baba ganoush song

Shiny Antics

The Chef and I were at BJ's Wholesale today getting a few things. Right when we walked in, a guy handed us two raffle tickets and mumbled something about the jewelry department.

I carried the red stubs in my hand like they were winning lottery tickets (foreshadowing, in case you missed it).

Then we were about halfway done shopping and people-watching, the voice of god or someone on a bad PA system or god on a bad PA system said we should all go to the jewelry kiosk so we did because we are very obedient.

We had to be present to win. Present as in shouting distance, which meant we had to listen to his spiel about this fine fine jewelry line and its lovely gold plating or spray painting or something.

Me: Can we not listen to this anymore and go?
Jewelry guy: blah blah blah
The Chef: Nope. We're going to stay for the whole thing. [He loves torturing me like this!]
Jewelry guy: ...and it's available in white gold!
Audience: Ohhhhh!
Me (whining): Please can we go?

This conversation went on for about four hours or maybe four long minutes.

Me: I don't even want to win the ugly necklace.
Other audience members: Oooh! Pretty!
Me: Harumph. Can we go?

Then the jewelry guy tossed around the raffle stubs in a plastic grocery bag and pulled out the winning number.

Our number.

We won the lovely necklace below. Look how on one side the charm is yellowish and more whitey on the other side. Classy.

Jewelry guy said it was a real CRYSTAL! The Chef asked if he could sell it in eBay and retire.

Jewelry guy was not amused.

But we were! We laughed and laughed and then bought the fixins for Manwiches.

You should get this

...because it is one of the most amazingly awesome things ever.

You're welcome.

(Mine is bright pink.) (And who would have thought anything could make Froot Loops even better? Yet this bowl does just that!)

Xoxo

Sign you know your partner is in the right profession

During an intimate* time...

STOP READING THIS IF YOU ARE ONE OF MY PARENTS!!!

and the TV is on the Science Channel in the background showing "How It's Made" and apparently out of the corner of his eye, he sees what's on the screen and this partner of yours, this partner who loves you very much and you love him very much, stops what he is doing and says, "Hey! All-Clad!"**


*I am clarifying "intimate time," per The Chef's request. Naughty bits were involved. Shut. Up.

**The creation of All-Clad pans is actually a pretty interesting process.

When worlds collide, part 2

When I "throw something together" for dinner, peanut butter is involved, as is its BFF jelly.

When The Chef "throws something together" for dinner, we have tandoori chicken, baba ganoush*, and raita.

You can be jealous now.

Maybe later I'll tell you how to make some of these things. Right now, I have to go lie down because I'm so full.


*This makes me sing "baba ganoush...baba ganoush" in an annoying melody of my own making. Even I know it's annoying and yet I can't stop.

I am now afraid of jellyfish and Hot Pockets and very strong margaritas

Things you should know, in case you didn't already:
1. I grew up in an ocean town.
2. I've been an ocean-frolicker for much of my life.

This morning, which was actually last Saturday when I started writing this and then got distracted by something shiny, anyway, on Saturday, way later than my Yankee* upbringing naturally allows,** I was lying in bed watching the National Geographic channel. This was not a choice. The Chef is in charge of the remote. I am in charge of watching whatever he and the remote choose.***

I enjoyed the show about octopuses, which I thought were octopi, but I assume National Geographic knows what they're talking about, so octopuses it is. Did you know each of those suction cups has a mind of its own? Each one can hold up to 35 pounds. This means all together, they can hold about 2 1/2 tons. And they can taste through their arms! Think of how fun that could be--although I probably wouldn't use the Victoria's Secret "Rapture" body lotion anymore.

Then NatGeo (which I am allowed to call them now because we are now BFFs) started in with the jellyfish. Here's what I know about jellyfish: We have Portuguese Man-o'-Wars (Men-o'-War?) in our area, which require meat tenderizer (the liquid, not the mallet) on the skin to neutralize the sting. Apparently peeing on the injury also works, but I have a shy bladder, so that's never going to happen. That's it! That's all I know, so therefore that's all anyone needed to know and/or all there is to know.

But!

There are apparently umpity-kajillion kinds of jellyfish--some 12 feet wide and some a centemeter big. The little ones? More dangerous. Like dead-dangerous. And the box jellyfish? Get stung by their microscopic harpoons of death all along those lovely swaying tentacles and you are dead from exploding red blood cells, paralysis, and skin-eating poison. Good times. The end.

More things you should know, in case you didn't already:
1. I'm a lightweight in the liquor department
2. Drinking makes me hungry.

Why was I in bed so long?

Because The Chef and I went out last night, which was really last Saturday night, to our favorite place, Smoke Lounge in Providence, RI on Federal Hill. I had two margaritas and they were strong and delicious and then I talked a lot, even more than usual, which is a direct correlation.

When we got home, I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And then Hot Pocket roll-type things. This was as big a mistake as swimming in a bathtub full of jellyfish.**** I went upstairs and got into bed without telling The Chef I was going upstairs and going to bed. I know! Rude! He said we had this conversation when he came upstairs in search of my disappeared self:

Me: My stomach hurts.
Him: What's wrong?
Me: My stomach hurts.
Him: What's wrong?
Me: My stomach hurts.
::time passes::
Him: What's wrong?
Me: I feel like I could throw up. But don't worry. I won't throw up in bed.

So!

What we now know:
1. I never need to eat another Hot Pocket for the rest of my life. And if I am forced to do so, I will not make it a peanut butter and jelly chaser.

2. As a really bad drinker with no tolerance for the devil's juice, I am not allowed to have two very strong drinks during the same outing.

3. Jellyfish are very scary and yet creepily pretty.



*As in New England hard-worker, not that baseball team to the south.

**More on this in a second. Get back up there and keep reading.*****

***Don't go getting all feminist bat-shit on me. I, for the most part, don't care what's on. With all those channels (who knew the world needed so many HBO and Showtime channels?), I'd rather not choose.

****I don't know why a bathtub would be filled with jellyfish and I don't know why I would even think about swimming in it, but...meh, go back to reading and pretend the metaphor is better than it actually is.

*****I lied. I don't feel like writing about this now. I also don't feel like going back and adjusting all the asterisks.

FINALLY! Chicken soup in every pot (and freezable container)

We all know that when household collide, so do methods of food preparation. To wit: Chicken Soup.

My (Penny's) way of making chicken soup:

1. Open can.
2. Dump contents in microwavable bowl.
3. Add 1/2 can of water.
4. Microwave until you're tired of waiting to eat.
5. Remove from microwave, taste, burn tongue.
6. Shake fist at microwave.

Optional: Add a boatload of crackers because the soup may not taste exactly like a salt lick quite yet.

The Chef's way of making soup:

• 3-5 pound chicken
• 4-5 carrots cut in 3-4" pieces
• 1/2 stalk celery with leaves cut in 3-4" pieces
• 1 large onion cut in 3-4" pieces
• sachet bag*, made up of 1/2 bunch Italian parsley with stems, 20 whole black peppercorns crushed, 2 T thyme, 3 whole cloves, 2-3 bay leaves
• cold water (keep reading for how much!)


 To make stock:

1. Using a cleaver, cut chicken into small pieces (each part of the chicken--leg, breast, etc-- should be cut at least in half to expose the marrow, about 3-4" pieces)
2. Add enough cold water to cover approximately 6-8" above the chicken.
3. Bring to a boil.
4. Skim the scum. (Say that three times fast--fun!)
5. Add carrots, celery, onion, and sachet bag.  Stir.
6. Simmer for 5-6 HOURS** skimming off scum occasionally.
7. Remove chicken and place on sheetpan to let cool.
8. Strain stock through fine strainer. (Use fine chinois or cheesecloth if possible.) Let cool.
9. While stock is cooling, pull chicken from bones. (Best to do this while watching the movie Until the Devil Knows You're Dead.)
10. Evenly separate chicken stock into freezable containers. (Your choice but 1/2 gallon size works best.)
11. Add equal amounts of pulled chicken to the containers.
12. Freeze--EXCEPT ONE! We're going to keep going with that one container.

Ready?

• one 10-oz block frozen, chopped spinach
• 1/3-1/2 bunch fresh chopped Italian parsley
• About 1/2 pound of your choice of pasta (we like egg fettuccine, broken up into 1" pieces, which hurts your hands. ouch.)
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Parmesan cheese (for garnish)

1. Remember that container from above? Pour the contents into a large sauce pan.
2. Add one block of frozen spinach. (Do not thaw.) Cook until hot.***
3. Add chopped parsley.
4. In a separate pan, cook pasta. Go PAST the al dente stage.****
5. Strain pasta and rinse with cold water.
6. Add desired amount of pasta to spinach/chicken soup and bring to simmer. Keep in mind that if you add too much pasta, it will suck up all the juices and you'll have one giant spinach noodle. Yuck.
7. Season with salt and pepper to taste. This is the first time you're adding salt, so you may find it takes a lot.*****
8. Serve with grated Parmesan cheese. I'm not kidding. These Italians put cheese in everything. I stopped my open mocking for a moment and tried it and WOW!

*sachet bag=herbs wrapped in a cheesecloth, tied with a string. This keeps all the little bits from floating all over the place. Little bits are like that.

**HOURS!!!! Hahahahaha!

***If you're using one of the frozen containers of the stock, pop out of container into saucepan along with frozen spinich. Cover and heat slowly (or quickly if you're wicked hungry).

****Be sure to wave to the al dente as it passes by.

*****The Chef says, "You can even add an egg to that." I say, "Why do you Italians have to put an egg on or in everything???" He defends this wacky practice by saying it would be like an egg-drop soup.  I say, "Whatever, dude."******

******And then he kills me for calling him "Dude."

I am delicious soup and you want to eat me.

You will use a spoon because if you try to slurp directly from the bowl, you'll spill it down the front of yourself. Trust me on this.