Beeter the Next Day

No, that's not a typo. Oh, how it's not a typo.

After a mildly disappointing Thanksgiving rendered my culinary faculties too tuckered out to produce anything worth talking about, I came home today (to do the laundry, mostly) and had to figure out what to make for dinner.

UPDATE: I'm still on my "foodie" diet. I log my calories every day on Livestrong.com's The Daily Plate website and have to watch my fat intake like a hawk watches a bunny traipsing innocuously below. Or something. Take that into account when you're reading this.

Pretty much all the protein in the house was frozen, so that was out. No tilapia, no chicken, no turkey (GOD, NO) and no ground beef. I scored some lovely beets, though, from my favorite produce purveyor, Clemons Produce on Curry Ford Rd in Orlando. While there, also stocked up on new crop of BEAUTIFUL McIntosh apples, my favorite winter Delicata squash and Bosc pears for dessert at some point this week.




So, I roasted the beets. I also had some lovely red navel oranges my mom gave me. Those are wintery and go so well with beets. Something creamy....YES...1 ounce of that gritty, amazing cave-aged Roquefort (below, second from the left, next to that oozy Brie de Paris).



My thoughts at this point: Hm. Oranges, beets and cheese do not a salad make. Also, thank God my sweet Cliff isn't here. He'd "where's the meat" me all the way to Kingdom Come. Back to the salad - I need something bind it all together. By the way, I don't usually use these plastic cutting boards - but for beets, they're pretty much the best choice if you don't want your bamboo board stained purple.



Sage browned butter it is. A tsp of butter in a non stick pan on high heat for a few seconds and dump a bunch of chopped sage in. DELICIOUS! SEASONAL! NUTTY! SANS NUTS!

Okay, I know I'm not supposed to have butter, technically - but it was such a tiny amount and I had only had 6 grams of the stuff earlier in the day - so butter was totally admissible in my book. Besides, what else was I supposed to use...Smart Balance? To me, I'd rather have churned cream any day over processed oils - no matter how much of a 'smart' choice they may be.

I've had a roll of polenta in my fridge for a few months now (don't worry - unopened it won't go bad), so I sliced a few pieces off and sauteed them in the pan with the sage butter.

Holy awesome.

I put it all together and had a raspberry-hued glass of the 2009 Beaujolais Nouveau* I didn't get to drink at our Mormonized Thanksgiving. Oh man, this was true winter heaven.



Eat it, summer. You're OVER.


*Wine Note: This year's Beaujolais Nouveau is very, very good and opens up nicely AFTER DECANTING. You need a decanter. I like this one.

Thanksgiving of Convenience

It’s impossible for me to undergo an ordeal as epic as Thanksgiving without writing something about it. Most gourmands plan for weeks their Thanksgiving meal. Most are expected to cook for large numbers of people and most take their game plan unbelievably seriously, as if the exclamations of “Oh my God, this turkey is amazing!” are directed at them, not at the Almighty.

Usually, I’m one of these people. When I lived in Chicago as a young culinary student, I invited my parents and brother to Thanksgiving with a seven-course feast mapped out. I had intricate grocery lists planned, a carte of what items would be found in which aisles. I had a game plan. Nevermind that I spent the day stressing in the kitchen, as most cooks do, nipping into the bottom cabinet for the handle of cheap Popov vodka to add to my innocuous orange juice.

Last year, I cooked for my in-laws – my boyfriend, his parents and his brother – voracious and picky eaters who rarely step outside their Peruvian arroz chaufa and anticuchos for some traditional holiday fare. That's me in the photo below, with my mom-in-law, Carmen, behind me, sizing up our collection of dry spices. At the time, I was working as an intern at Cooking Light, constantly surrounded by recipes and impulsively picking the ones I knew were popular among staffers and readers alike. The meal was zeitgeist; an event to be remembered for years.

This year, a combination of settling into a new job and being completely worn out by dieting and worrying about my waistline rendered our holiday feast an unimaginative gathering of convenient food. I’d had planned, of course, to sit down with my sea of past holiday Gourmet issues (god rest it) around me and plan a beautiful meal – a pumpkin flan to end the evening would be the crowned jewel.

It didn’t happen that way. Being exhausted at the end of the day, the last thing I wanted to do was haul out my magazines and then have to clean them all up a few hours later, or watch as they scattered further and further from their point of origin as the days past and they still lay fallow.

Instead of the challah I’d planned to make, I chose Sister Schubert’s yeast rolls – frozen, my God. I hacked open acorn squashes and put them under the broiler for a virtually work-free side. My dad made the sad dressing (not enough moisture, too much salt). My mom, never a baker, made a too-dark pumpkin pie (forget the flan) and a pile of mashed potatoes spiked with canned black pepper that stuck between our teeth. The only real work I did this year was the brining of the turkey breast – which was a brilliant move – and streuseled sweet potato casserole. A total of maybe two hours. Maybe.


It all went well – well enough, I suppose – to be called a Thanksgiving. The apathy was palpable. Next year – I can only hope for next year – we’ll all be together, and I can care more. I’ll even make a pumpkin flan.

T for Totally Disgusted

Apparently, this is how I feel about Japanese Steakhouses.



I have no clue why I'm making this face. It looks like I just found a turd on my plate. That didn't happen, btw.

In other news, I was totally underwhelmed by dinner at Benihana at the Disney Hilton. Go to one of the Kobe locations instead.

Thanks, Ms. Rochelle, for capturing this priceless moment on your iPhone. I didn't even know my face moved that way.

This newsbrief brought to you by the letter "T," which actually stood for "Tupperware." :)

Ode to the Pig

My life-long friend Rachelle (whose beautiful daughter is the princess you see below)tipped me off to this page she ran across in Departures magazine, the travelers mag brought to us by American Express. It's a great ode to the pig, a fabulous animal.

I will say, though, that I have grown more socially-conscious about where my food comes from after having read the book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. So I try to buy pork as often as possible from places I know treat their animals well. Pigs are smarter than dogs, and I wouldn't want to eat a dog who'd been beaten before death. Would you? I'd prefer a more humanely killed pig - one who was perhaps listening to Mozart before the final blow.

Regardless. I love pork. Eating it. Here's the page. It's awesome.



I realize you can't see the writing too well (click on the image to read the copy), but LOOK AT THAT CHARCUTERIE!!! I love paté. It's probably one of the most misunderstood foods. But wow, is it good. Also cured pork sausages, prosciutto - what's not to love in a pig?

Thanks, Rachelle. I love you even though when you see the word "pig" you think of me.

Testing, Testing, One, Two, CAKE...

One of my best girlfriends has an adorable child who is turning 1 in January.



Rachelle picked out this adorable cake for her daughter's birthday and asked if I would duplicate it and show a step-by-step for her. Luckily, it was my mom's birthday last week, so I had a great excuse to try out the cake. Here is the photo she showed me:



Cute, huh? Butterflies are always a good choice for tiny, beautiful children.

So, here's how you do it.

First, gather your ingredients. You can use any white/yellow cake mix. The point here, (Rachelle and I both agree) is the decorating. No one's going to care that you used a mix once they see how adorable this cake is.



In reality, you'll need only one can of frosting. The other one I got for snacking. Don't worry, it was the Reduced Sugar one.

Pour the batter into two greased 9x9 square cake pans. I only had one, so I repeated the process twice. Follow the time instructions on the boxed mix. I think mine took about 25 minutes.



Flip both cakes out onto cooling racks. Once they're both cool, CAREFULLY move them onto a flat serving surface - I used a wood cutting board, but a cookie sheet would work well. Or a doily. I was told once, 'never underestimate the elegance of a doily.' Good advice.



Next, you're going to cut out the shape of the butterfly. It's hard for me to explain in words, so here's the pictures. I did the top first and then the bottom and then rounded the wings. It's easiest to do this with a small paring knife. SHARP. Don't use a dull knife. Ever.



Divide the frosting into five bowls. I found three-four drops of food coloring for each color - green, pink, yellow and blue - worked really well for the pastel colors. For the purple, use five drops of each red and blue food coloring. Preeeetty. I don't remember the last time I used food coloring. I'll be using it more often.



I found that the easiest way to ice this cake (and believe me, it's harder than it looks), is to start from the inside out. The green "body" of the butterfly should get iced first.
Then, the pink parts of the wings. To frost the cake, I used a small silicone spatula. I think that works the best for detailing and smoothness.





Then, the blue sections.



Then, the yellow and purple edges. Don't forget to ice the edges of the cake, too. The best way to do this without getting crumbs in the icing is to use a LOT of icing at first. this will make sure the crumbs stay put.



I'm not a huge fan of these "spray" frostings, but it seemed to work pretty well for the edging. The original photo shows the little dot tip, but I like the stars much better, don't you? I think it turned out rather well, don't you? If you really hate those spray icings, a pastry bag with a #26 or #30 tip (#6 for the little pearls) will work just as well or better. The star edging is really what transforms this cake into something really cute and special.



Here's the finished product. Remember, it's humid and disgusting in Florida in October, so that's why it looks a little melty. The only things I forgot were the pipe cleaner antennae. But those are pretty intuitive.





My mom loved it! Happy birthday, Mom! Have fun, Shell!

I Like That Boom Boom COW!

Okay, Summer, you and I need to have a little talk.

It's September, alright, but it's about time to start getting chilly. Now, don't mistake me, I love the afternoon thunderstorms and never having a good hair day as much as the next girl. But as the conversation at the water cooler turns from beach days and grilling to cinnammon brooms and chili, I start to get antsy.

It's okay, Summer, I realize you're going to steal September away in a wash of 90% humidity and possible tropical storm force winds, but at this time of year, I just can't help trying to force Fall. I have wants, too, you know.

I want to wear a sweater somewhere other than my office. I want to empty the stale potpourri from my coffee table centerpiece and fill it with gourds, squash and pumpkins. I want silk autumn wreaths on my door and the smell of rosemary from my shrub outside. I want my nose to freeze and an excuse to wear a scarf and a velvet blazer. I want Fall!

As much as I love grilling and light fish dishes and salads, I've been yearning for that comfort food we all adore. Stews thick with root vegetables, meat loaf, creamy chowders, stone-fruit pies. A co-worker mentioned that she loves to roast in the Fall, a thick cut of tough meat, rubbed with aromatic spices or braised long and slow in the Dutch Oven. "I like pork," she said. "But in the Fall, cow is King.' I couldn't agree more.

All of these things say Fall, and, I admit it, I forced it on an 85-degree evening.

Monday night, I braised short ribs in stock and wine, root veggies and onions, sun-dried tomatoes and thyme. I can't imagine a bowl of Fall any better than that, especially processing the braised vegetables in the Tupperware Quick Chef into a velvety sauce, topped with sauteed kale and garlic. It didn't exactly look like the photo (because I snatched the photo from a food mag), but short ribs are nearly impossible to mess up, and they look like this every time.

Some of my coworkers claim that their local Publix's are already carrying the cinnamon brooms I'm yearning for. I just can't enjoy them until it dips below 80outside. And, for that, I'll most likely have to wait until October.

Come on, Fall. Let's braise something.

*photo credit: Bon Appetit magazine

Why I Learned To Start Eating and Love Norman Van Aken

Here's my review of Norman's for Orlando Style Magazine.

The Aji Amarillo Butter-poached Lobster made me cry. It's that good.