What, real food?!? Attractively plated, real food?!?

I'll bet you didn't think that this Duchamp(ion) had it in her, did you? Actual, edible, proper food. Not inedible craft supplies, not candy, not even "cheese on top of whatever." But I got the stuff, cats. The stuffed cats. Wait, no. No cats were involved.

But I did a good job!

Tonight, I roasted chicken parts in olive oil, generously coated in Penzeys' Ozark seasoning.

I also boiled fresh kale and fresh beet greens in water seasoned with Old Bay seasoning, a little more of the Ozark seasoning, a bit of Johnny's Salt, some fresh salsa, some Cholula hot sauce, some vegetable oil, and some apple cider vinegar. Instead of browning mild Italian sausage on the bottom of the pan before adding the water, I tried to get a meaty, smoky effect in a vegetarian way, by using liquid smoke. The greens still came out nicely, but I should have used a bit less of the liquid smoke, because it overpowered some of the other seasonings. Live and learn, eh? Still, my greens were, as usual, a feather in my cap. A damp, green feather.

I also boiled whole, fresh beets until sweet and tender, to be peeled before eating at the diner's discretion.

And dessert? Dessert's easy. Like assembling a five-part children's puzzle.

Two wafer "cigars," three rounded, truffle-sized scoops of vanilla bean gelato separated from the rest of the dish by a small moat of slivered almonds. Across the almonds were chocolate chips to the right (a good kind with a short ingredient list), and frozen blueberries to the left. The left side of each dish, from the berries to the gelato, was drizzled with stripes of Torani caramel sauce. Whipped cream was also at the ready, to be applied as a condiment by each individual diner, as the dish is consumed.

But more than that, more than the quality, more than the range of temperatures and textures--berries colder than gelato, gelato colder than chocolate chips, chocolate chips colder than almonds, almonds colder than caramel, with a much more easily predicted "soft to crunchy" texture spectrum--more than the range of sweet to savory, even... was the plating.

I may be something of a sideshow geek when I'm showing off, but I'm still the daughter of a rowdy, retired chef, and even my plating can "bring it." At least, I, uh, I mean, that's not my BEST dessert plating EVER, and the photo's blurry and poorly lit, and the caramel didn't look like clean stripes when I took the picture, but, uh, uh, uh, it's still alright. And in PERSON, it looked awesome.

(I only paused to photograph dessert, but you can probably imagine what the rest of it looked like.)

ALSO too cowardly to buy THIS

Right?!?

The experimental marketing crossover is so dada that I'm actually a little pissed at my own penny-pinching and cowardice, because my curiosity about this commercial product is ALMOST unbearable. But, like the title of this piece broadcasts, I was too chicken to buy it during today's grocery run.

Cocoa Puffs Muffin Mix, brought to you by Betty Crocker.

I... Uh...

If memory serves, Cocoa Puffs cut the roof of my mouth. But normally I'll eat anything doused in sugar.

So...

Jury's still out. But I haven't had the will, strength, or personal power needed to leap into this particular experiment. Not yet.

Oh, and the blurriness? That's a scratch on the phone camera, not a cool filter effect. So we're clear about that.

"Grilled cheese?" More like Grilled! Cheese!

I can't EVEN articulately express how game-changing this discovery was. In one of her recent visits, my sister showed me that cheddar cheese--all by itself--can get toasted in a skillet without sticking, and that it turns into these amazing, crispy sheets that look like potato chips. It is absolutely the right choice for a number of occasions, and if you're able to do it (no lactose issues, no veganism, etc.), then you HAVE to do it.

Now, I consider cheese to be a legitimate food.

Right now I'm having a light dinner of apples and cheese, in which cheese--again, ALL BY ITSELF--is the main source of protein and fat. Right?!? Awesome!

Now, I like different cheeses at different temperatures and textures, but typically I like cheese to be served warm. Warm enough for the fats to liquefy.

Not only do I love the illusion of increased richness created by altering the texture, but I also love that heated cheese stops having what's typically one single texture (often like modeling clay), and splits into two or three textures (gooey, oil, and sometimes crisped).

Sure, some cheeses have multiple textures even when chilled, but let's pretend that I'm not including rinds, extra ingredients like dried fruits, or veins of mold in this discussion. Today's food project was specifically a deconstructed grilled cheese sandwich, for the "let's not bother with bread this time" crowd, so I used a Tillamook medium cheddar, and I stand by that choice.

In fact, I love that choice. By liquefying the already-present fats, this cheese ABSOLUTELY felt like a richer food, EVEN THOUGH the actual fat content decreased as the oil ran off. I wouldn't say that the decrease in fat content was enough to be medically significant, but it's absolutely enough to be MATHEMATICALLY interesting.

Alchemy, right?!?

The cheese even tastes noticeably saltier once it's been heated, despite no actual changes in the salt content. I love this alteration, as well, because I like salt. If I'm going to have a bit of the ol' NaCl anyway, then I want to taste it.

Sure, it might get a little tough when it cools, but it's easy enough to avoid that mistake. You just eat it before that happens.

So?

Again, our bottom line here is that heating up cheddar cheese directly in the skillet until it's just toasty enough to flip like a pancake is a brilliant idea.

Here's a photo:
(I put part of the skillet on the burner, and let part of it hover in the air, to help make the cheese heat unevenly. This helped diversify the cheese's textures in a more overt way, and was absolutely the right decision for the situation.)

Easy as easy-pie, easy peasy

What? You think writing a food blog is EASY?!?

You think that FOOD is easy?!?

You think I was just BORN knowing which end of the fork is too pointy to stick in my ear?!?

Yeah, well you know WHAT?!? Maybe it IS easy. Is that what you want me to say? Is it? IS IT?!?

Well FINE. Maybe it is.

As easy as PIE, more like!!!

...

So, I made a blueberry pie this week, because my dad brought a homemade blueberry pie to Easter dinner (this past Sunday), and it was amazing, and when my husband and I got home from dinner we both looked at each other and went, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck, we should own a pie for ourselves." So that's ultimately what had to happen, about two days later.

Recipe!

Step 1. Buy two 15oz cans of blueberries. The ones from the photo.

Step 2. Carefully peel the label off of the can. The recipe is on the inside lining of the paper label.

Step 3. Read the recipe BEFORE you open the can. I made that mistake, and had to seal the opened can back up with cling wrap to make an emergency run to the grocery store for corn starch.

Step 4. Have some pie crust ready.

I'm lazy and undiscerning, so I bought pie crust from the grocery store, too. I didn't buy frozen, because I'm not patient like that. I bought dough from the dough part of the store, never looking back... Except for right now... Because I am looking back... Through the lenses of time.

5. Do what the instructions on the inner lining of the paper label from the berry can says. Do WHATEVER IT SAYS!!! FOLLOW THE RULES AND NOBODY GETS HURT!!!

6. ... Congratulations! You have pie!

Remember, the pie that I photographed looks like it has freckles because I sprinkled the whole thing with, like, a LOT of turbinado sugar crystals.

It's delicious, but the photo makes the pie look like it has a rash. Ignore this.

Just appreciate that it's pie.

Even green beans can't save you now!!!

I know that this blog looks a "certain way."

It implies that I hold myself to a strict dietary regimen of biodegradable packing peanuts and astronaut foods, with an occasional gourmet toothpaste for desert.

And it would be right.

(I mean, prove me wrong! Are YOU watching me eat all the time?!? Even my husband doesn't do that.)

However, sometimes it's important to eat a huge quantity of actual food all in one sitting, so that the next two days of all-candy feel justified. Something dark green, because that's where the vitamins live.

MOREOVER, sometimes it's important to try to lose another 15 vanity pounds, to prepare for a summer's worth of nerd conventions. Gotta start now, while it's barely springtime!!!

(Jealous moment of jealousy, being jealous of the women whose bone structure lets them carry whatever BMI they want, without losing their facial symmetry or nice jawline. But I am what I am, and I do what I do with what I can, regarding what I am.)

And so, in the spirit of vitamin deficiency and halfhearted vanity that I bring to you... GREEN BEANS!!!

Everybody knows that frozen vegetables are more nutrient-dense than their room-temperature grocery store counterparts, because they're picked and Han Soloed when they're actually ripe, not when they're underripe and travel-ready.

I also like frozen vegetables because I don't have to remember what day it is. I don't have to remember when I purchased them. I don't EVEN have to remember to wash them! (Is this correct?)

So, here's what I do with frozen green beans:

1. Fill a pot with water, add a generous amount of salt and a good drizzle of the cooking oil of your choice, and get that to boiling on the stovetop. Like you do with pasta!

2. Once it's boiling, throw all the frozen green beans that you want in there, as long as there's enough water to make it work. Like you do with pasta!

3. Wait for everything to resume boiling, like you'd do with pasta.

4. Boil the green beans for around 8-11 minutes, or whatever, also like you'd do with pasta.

5. In a manner identical to handling pasta, you drain that stuff through a colander, and figure out what you want to do next.

...

Lately, I've been keeping the water both salty and greasy enough that the green beans are downright alright as-is, once they've been drained and have also cooled enough to eat.

But if you skimped on the salt or oil, go for it now!!! Add some butter, add some spices, do whatever it is that you do.

Today, I tossed in some slivered almonds. Just like that! It's that easy! It really is. You just own some almonds and then you eat them, it's true. And you can too! Unless you are allergic. In which case, don't do that. Don't do things that you are allergic to. Please.

Anyway

I made the food, then I ate it, and then I resumed getting ready for work.

EXCELLENT!!!

I'm Eating Packing Peanuts

God-fucking-dammit. Really?!?

Fuck.

REALLY?!?!?!

So, I ordered something online, and it was from a really cool little eco-friendly-type company.

And when I was opening and unpacking the box, there were a few packing peanuts. So, of course, I put one in my mouth while reviewing the shipping invoice. I was curious! What do YOU do, anyway?!? Who are YOU to pass judgment?!? That's right. I'll bet you've done worse, whoever you are, who's reading this.

Anyway!

It started to release a mild Cheetos flavor as it dissolved. (Something like that.) And I was like, "Well, fuck. These most be those biodegradable potato starch packing peanuts. Let's see how far I can go with this experiment."

So, I finished eating that packing peanut. The second one I ate, I ate because I'd already had one, so I might as well eat another. I mean, they're not BAD. The third, fourth, fifth... ah, hell, I've lost track at this point. I'm nibbling on one as I type this.

I KNOW that they can't possibly be food-grade. They just CAN'T.

God.

Fuck!!!

What am I doing?!?!?

Suck it, juice!

I know what you might be thinking. That the expression "suck it," when used in a taunting or otherwise derogatory capacity, is subliminally anti-female, as well as subliminally homophobic, because it implies that performing fellatio is exclusively the domain of those who are trapped within a gender-based second-class citizenship.

And yes, if you want to take all of the intended innocence out of the taunt written into the title of this blog post, then I must acknowledge that your point is correct. Moreover, I must now apologize to everyone--including myself--who was, or who will be, in one way or another, born into a category of "well, you don't want to be THAT guy" butt-of-cruel-jokesmanship.

(I say this as someone who was once the lone girl at middle school baseball camp, whom coaches and colleagues alike would joke "out of earshot" about, by accusing one another of throwing, not merely like A girl, but indeed, of throwing like THE girl. I won the most improved player award that year, and brought two more middle school girls with me the next year. And not just ANY sort of middle school girls. The sort of sassy, giggling, sports-ambivalent "don't give a fuck" kind of middle school girls who just made everybody feel a little weird about baseball camp, in general. Because I could.)

Still.

Before we get into any Hillary Clinton-themed quoteables about NASA, I want to try to steal a little moment, to adopt a tone of childlike ignorance. The sort of "the world is kinda safe" naïveté needed to use whatever language might pop into my head, without making any real effort to apply critical thinking skills, or even basic adult courtesy, to the situation which I have decided to describe.

And it is with this "safe space to express myself" approach, and self-permission to indulge in lowered boundaries, which prompts me to easily and blithely write the following:

FUCK YEAH, STUPID!!! WHO'S TOO EXPENSIVE, NOW!!! Juice? You think I can afford fruit juice? Fruit juice that either comes in boxes too tiny to be affordable, or frozen tubes that require me to fit a carafe into my fridge like some fucking mathemagician. FUCK NO!!! Not medium-sized bottles of fruit juice, that require figuring out which objects in my yard are the recycle bin. Fruit juice is too much of a hassle.

And it is too fatty. Yeah, there's no fat in it. What's up with that, man?

But it is still full of sugar. That's sugar that could be spent on CANDY!!! I could be eating candy RIGHT NOW!!!!! I might!!! I might just do that!!! Because I keep candy around!!! Because I have a JOB!!! And that is the kind of proactive, assertive living that a steady income can provide. The finer things in life, like always having a fresh stash of bitchin' candy. Yeah, that's right, fruit juice. Taking my money. Not today. Not now. It's whatever the opposite of payback is, time. It's no-payment time. Wallet got left at home accidentally, oh God I hope, time.

Now, fruit juice is one of my husband's favorites, but when I pick it up at the store, I look at it with the same mistrust that I give... um... huh... yeah... sliced cheese? Theme yogurt? Quality ingredients? Foods that are still too fresh for the bargain shelf? I CANNOT SPEND MY CANDY MONEY ON SUCH EXTRAVAGANCES!!!!!!

So.

So what do I do?

I buy some shelf-stable, fruit-inspired, crystallized water-alteration powder. And I buy it for mothafuckin astronauts. How do I eat my ice cream? ASTRONAUT ICE CREAM!!!!! How do I try to transition out of buying real fruit juice so often? I BUY TANG AND DRINK TANG AND WAIT FOR MY HUSBAND TO STEAL MY GLASS OF TANG EVEN THOUGH HE ORIGINALLY SAID THAT HE WAS JUST FINE WITH BEER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SPACE TRAVEL!!!!!!!!! GAAAAAAAAARRRRHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBTTTTTTHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blurry phone photo, featuring a gorgeously retro washing machine dial.

Why does the positioning of my hand imply that I'm shorter than the washing machine? For that matter, why AM I shorter than the washing machine? Those weren't special effects. No camera tricks here. It is a monolithic tower of soap and garment rehabilitation.

Right. Always right. Always right, over here.