Taciturn Tuesdays: Kentucky Lemonade

This is the Summer of Bourbon. And Kentucky Lemonade is the star.

Two jiggers, as Granny would say, of bourbon (we're drinking Knob Creek). Three tablespoons real maple syrup. Two tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice. Lemon wedge for garnish.

Find some wicker, some sunlight, some sand, and some salt water. And enjoy.

A Burrito in a Bowl

I'll admit it. I love Moe's. And Chipotle. And Qdoba. Pretty much any burrito place.

I'll also admit to being an enormous hypocrite--on my way to the local Moe's, I always take a few seconds to judge the people in the parking lot of McDonald's. Then I pull into the Moe's lot, order a burrito and a big bowl of queso, and stuff my face. All classy-like.

Partly out of shame, and partly out of a desire to stop spending $10 every time I was craving a burrito, I decided to make my own, at home. I ditched the tortilla and decided to make a Burrito in a Bowl, and it. was. good.

The nice thing about this type of dinner is that it's easy, fast, and infinitely variable. I started with brown rice and black beans, and then added cucumber, cheese, salsa, jalapeno, and cilantro, but you could easily add black olives, sweet peppers, sour cream, lettuce, grilled chicken--you get the idea.

If I hadn't run out of cucumber, jalapeno, and cilantro because I kept making myself seconds, I'd be eating another Burrito in a Bowl for dinner tonight.

The next time you're craving a burrito, try making one at home, in a bowl. You'll save money, control the quality of your ingredients, and avoid the problematic drive by McDonald's. Maybe that last part is just for me.

Bunny Cake and Granny Pizza, or Hello, Yes, I'm Back After Seven Months

One Easter, we went to Granny's house in Duxbury. I was in a flowery little girl dress, feeling pretty. I wasn't tall enough to see what was on Granny's kitchen counters, but the dining room table was at exactly the right height for me to spot what she had chosen as a centerpiece. It was a coconut cake shaped like a bunny. Fluffy with coconut flakes, it looked like it was sleeping in the middle of the table, oblivious to the shine and sparkle of silver and crystal and china.

We probably ate deviled eggs and mashed potatoes and lamb with mint jelly, but all I cared about was Bunny Cake. How would we cut into it? Would we chop off its head? Would it be a layer cake? Was there coconut icing in between the layers? How was no one else amazed that the cake was shaped like a bunny? I was so excited by the idea of Bunny Cake that I don't even remember eating it; all I can recall is the anticipation.

Granny could do that, could take food and make it more than just what we were going to eat. Without getting pretentious, she elevated meals by building comfort and luxury into them. Every splash of heavy cream or pat of butter was a little reminder that Granny cared. A year after Granny's death, I probably miss sharing meals with her more than anything else.

So I've finally worked up the courage to make Granny Pizza, a promise I made, oh, seven months ago. Why have I held on to this silly idea for so long, you ask? Because exposing Granny to her first bite of pizza would have been the best possible repayment for all the food love she showed me over the years. And, since I can't do that any more, the next best option is to make Granny Pizza and eat it all myself, in a fit of grief-induced carbo-loading.

I used Mark Bittman's basic dough recipe, because he's the bomb. And I used really simple, but really good ingredients, because that's what the nerds at America's Test Kitchen told me to do. Seriously: crushed tomatoes and Parmesan and Mozzarella. And here's a trick I learned: if you ever make pizza at home and wonder why it doesn't taste like parlor pizza, it's because you didn't add Parmesan. I always used to add whatever cheese I had on hand--cheddar, feta, etc. My homemade pizzas were good, but they wouldn't have cut it as Granny Pizza.

I needed Granny Pizza to be like that one amazing slice you have on a paper plate at 2 a.m., when you get flour on your fingers and you make ugly faces because you've forgotten to chew like a lady. Not that Granny would ever have forgotten to chew like a lady, or been awake at 2 a.m., or eaten from a paper plate, but you know what I mean.

And it worked. This pizza was exactly right. Crispy crust at the edges and, most importantly, underneath, thanks to a makeshift pizza stone (a.k.a. a baking sheet I flipped over and heated to 500 degrees). Salty but also kind of sweet because of the pure tomato flavor.

Granny would have loved it.

Taciturn Tuesdays: Make Your Own Pizza

Because we live in the type of island-town where there's one grocery store for every twelve bike rental places, a large pizza costs more than a brick of gold. Not really. But it's expensive.

We used to pay the eleventy-billion dollars it took to have an under-cooked, over-greasy pizza delivered to our house.

Which was stupid, because it's so easy to make pizza at home.

Make the dough (I use Jim Lahey's pizza dough recipe). This step usually consists of stirring flour, yeast, sugar, salt, and water together for about twenty seconds, and then ignoring it...

...for like two hours. Any recipe that calls for leaving the ingredients alone for the length of two Dog Whisperers (yes, I measure my time in Cesar Millan-sized installments) is fine by me.

Then, stretch the dough on a baking sheet. Don't even worry about the whole "circle" thing. Why? Because circles and blobs taste the same. It's science.

Put stuff on the dough. Like barbecue sauce.

Or pesto.

Then, put more stuff on the dough. Here, we have the slightly random but completely delicious combination of barbecue sauce, cheddar cheese, roasted sweet potatoes, and kielbasa.

You could also go the pesto, mozzarella, and grape tomato route.

Then, bake the pizzas in a really hot (as hot as it'll go) oven for about ten minutes. It's. Just. So. Easy. (Tip: in order to avoid a greasy pizza, cook the kielbasa ahead of time...lesson learned.)

Then, you eat the pizza. All of it. Even though the leftovers are probably great, T and I never manage to have any.

Casalinga in Raleigh, or Why I Love Yelp

I don't know if you've discovered Yelp yet (it's very possible that I'm behind the trend on this one), but I highly suggest that you do. If you're a foodie and you like to travel, Yelp is there to hold your hand and guide you to a good restaurant. How? Well, with its ability to find the closest Italian/Japanese/Greek/Lebanese/French/Thai (etc.) restaurant, and to provide you with diner reviews, price summaries, and contact information so that you can make an informed choice about your meal away from home, without having to resort to a chain restaurant.

For the most part, I've used Yelp with great success to locate both hidden and well known restaurants wherever T and I decide to visit on our weekends away from the swampland Eastern North Carolina.

The best example of Yelp's prowess came when T and I were in Raleigh about two months ago, and we were a) stranded in the suburbs by Priceline's questionable definition of "downtown hotels" and b) too tired to drive downtown for dinner. I spent a few minutes browsing Yelp's suggestions for "Italian food," and settled on Casalinga, a restaurant whose reviews were a wonderful combination of glowing and more glowing.

http://images.citysearch.net

But when T and I pulled up to the strip mall that Casalinga calls home, we very nearly kept driving. The shops surrounding it were run down and empty, and the restaurant's facade made it look more like an adult video store than a restaurant.

Too tired to keep hunting for dinner, I convinced T that Yelp had never misled us before, and, happily, I was right.

Casalinga's owner, Carlo, has used all the money he saved on the completely bare and depressing location of his restaurant to spruce up its interior. Stepping inside, you'll be impressed/overwhelmed by the number of autographed portraits adorning the entryway walls, featuring everyone from the requisite James Gandolfini to several politicians to, of course, Robert DeNiro.

Painted and decorated to within an inch of its life (but in a charming sort of way), Casalinga is a tiny replica of an equally tiny piazza, complete with checkered awnings and faux cracks in the walls. On Sunday nights (which is when we visited), Carlo hires a singer to sit in the corner and belt out a staggering number of tunes from memory. Seriously. The man knew every word to Brandy (You're a Fine Girl). And yes, maybe a few diners got sick of him, and maybe some even started discussing his performance loudly enough for him to hear, but we loved him.

Like any Italian restaurant worth its salt, Casalinga serves a variety of fresh baked breads, including some of the best focaccia I've ever had. Because I believe that a standard (by which I mean non-innovative) Italian restaurant should be judged by the quality of its basic dishes, I ordered the spaghetti bolognese, and it came in a pink sauce that was equal parts comforting and delicious. T ordered the seafood ravioli and was equally happy, although his cream sauce was a bit heavy (but, then again, what cream sauce isn't?). Our portions were so enormous that we couldn't even think about dessert, and, content to have discovered a diamond in the rough...est strip mall for miles, we made our way back to the "downtown" hotel.

The moral of this story is that sometimes, great restaurants have to sacrifice quality of location for quality of experience, and we shouldn't hold this against them. Instead, we should hide our valuables in the trunk, lock our cars, and head inside for a delightful meal.

Herbed Potato Salad: Putting an End to Creepy Picnic Food

I don't know about you, but I have a deep and abiding hatred for the mayonnaise-y, hard boiled egg-y, raw onion-y potato salad that Americans insist on bringing to every picnic, cookout, and barbecue they attend.

Why? Well, it's a shade of yellow that doesn't grow in nature. And it's slimy. And when I eat it, I can feel my arteries locking themselves in the bathroom to listen to Nine Inch Nails and "cut themselves shaving."

Because I lose all self control around them, I tend not to keep potatoes in the house. But when I came across my first recipe for Herbed Potato Salad, I decided to make an exception because it sounded so lovely. It was both the best and the worst decision I've ever made.

Here's my version, which, although not all that different from the original, is so good that I always have to hide it from T until it's time for dinner.

Herbed Potato Salad

• 2-3 lbs. baby Red Bliss potatoes, washed
• 3 Tablespoons roughly chopped flat-leaf Italian parsley
• 2 Tablespoons roughly chopped dill
• 2 Tablespoons roughly chopped mint
• 2-3 Tablespoons olive oil
• The juice of one lemon (more or less to taste)
• 2 teaspoons kosher salt
• Black pepper to taste

1. Bring a large pot of water to boil. Season it with a bit of olive oil and salt. Cut the potatoes into bite-size pieces (halves or quarters, depending on size). Cook the potatoes for about ten minutes, or until fork-tender. Drain and set aside.

2. Gently, stir in the chopped herbs, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Taste, and adjust seasoning.

3. Serve warm or cold, or bring to your next picnic in order to spread the word of the [potato] Lord.






The key with this salad is to use fresh herbs. You can add/substitute cilantro, basil, tarragon, or any other spice that excites you (and, really, which spices don't excite you?), just as long as you promise to use only fresh herbs.

The first recipe I found for Herbed Potato Salad was in a little self-published cookbook produced by Tangiers International, an amazing Middle Eastern market in West Hartford, CT. I thought I had discovered something that no one else knew about, until I did a quick Google search and found that there are a whole lot of similar recipes out there. So, no, this isn't a grand revelation. But I feel that it's important to do my part to bring an end to the tyranny of yellow, gloopy potato salad as soon as possible.

DIY Chicken Fajitas

This is a quick post meant to empower you, dear readers. You can make good Mexican food at home.

T has recently become addicted to chicken fajitas and swears he'll never go back to burritos (we're very passionate about our food, as you well know). This is probably a good time to explain that we have a weakness for Mexican food, and we indulge this weakness almost every weekend at awkward times like 4 p.m.

Since Mexican food tends to be kind of unhealthy, I was determined to master chicken fajitas (which, admittedly, aren't that unhealthy) at home. And I did just that.

I was in a rush and didn't have a chance to take step-by-step pictures, but here's (more or less) what I did.

DIY Chicken Fajitas

1. Put a couple of bay leaves, a sprinkle of oregano, a tablespoon of red pepper flakes, two cups of chicken stock and four cups of water in a large pot, and bring it to a boil. Add 3 or 4 chicken breasts to the pot, and cook for about 10 minutes. Set the chicken aside to cool for about five minutes, and then shred the meat with two forks.

2. With a little olive oil, sauté sliced peppers, onions, tomatoes, jalapenos, and whatever else you like in your fajitas on high heat until they're tender and beginning to brown.

3. Chop up some lettuce, cucumbers, feta, and whatever else you like (seriously...anything works here) and put each ingredient on a small plate. A plate of sliced limes or chopped cilantro would make an excellent instant flavor boost.

4. Wrap a stack of tortillas (I prefer corn tortillas) in a clean cloth dish towel, and microwave on high for a minute.

5. Put the chicken, peppers and onions, and other sides on a tray with the tortillas, and serve!

It's easy. It's delicious. And it's cheaper than the overpriced Mexican food we always find ourselves giving in to on the weekends. Success!

Gimme Gimme: Top Ten Holiday Gifts for Foodies

Everywhere I go, I feel like I'm surrounded by awesome food gifts that I WANT I WANT I WANT. But since the holidays are a time of giving to others and EXTREME COMMERCIALISM, I've decided to compile a list of the Top Ten Holiday Gifts for Foodies I've seen in my travels this fall and winter.

http://www.thewarrenfarm.com

1. A Maple Block: I saw this in an issue of Martha Stewart Living, and I want it. Because I'm from New England, where REAL maple syrup flows through our veins and REAL maple sugar candy floats through our dreams. This block is also really cool because you can grate it over food. Like oatmeal. Or popcorn. Or anything edible.

http://www.stonewallkitchen.com

2. Egg Cups with Feet: Even if you don't regularly eat soft-boiled eggs (which you should, because they're delicious), you could set these on a shelf or a windowsill in the kitchen and just make the whole place feel a little bit cuter. And not in an obnoxious way. Unless your kitchen is already drowning in kitschy decor. 

http://www.williams-sonoma.com

3. A Functional Cookbook Holder: I've wanted this since I saw it in a friend's kitchen last year. The glass cover keeps your cookbooks from getting splattered, and the measurement conversions in the margin keep you from having to flip back and forth or look them up on the computer with dirty hands.

http://www.amazon.com

4. A Little Julia Joy: There are many reasons to watch old episodes of The French Chef: to learn, to openly gawk at the awesomeness that was Julia Child, or even to create a hilarious drinking game. I love watching Julia cook because she makes an absolute mess of everything and loses her train of thought constantly, but still manages to make beautiful food.

http:///www.etsy.com

5. An Environmentally-Friendly Dish: These are gorgeous, green, and simple enough that they can blend into almost any kitchen. Use as a spoon rest, an appetizer tray, a centerpiece...you get the idea. I happen to have an obsession with antique glass bottles, so these make me extra happy. And when you shop on Etsy, you're being an extra good person by supporting independent artisans.

http://www.amazon.com

 6. Space-saving Cup Measurers: No, they aren't pretty. In fact, they're pretty ugly. But they live in a drawer, and they are so convenient. In fact, we have these exact ones. Please note that this is the first item on the list that I actually possess. They're also great for newborn foodies (by which I mean recent college grads...not babies), because their kitchens were probably dreamed up by a sociopath and they need to conserve as much space as possible.

http://silpat.com

7. Non-stick Baking Mats: You don't have to buy the French ones, of course, but I felt like giving credit to the original. Plus, giving a foodie something French is probably smart, because French food is fancy, and feeling like a French chef (for however brief a moment) is fun. These mats are also ridiculously convenient, and prevent waste in the form of parchment paper, etc.

http://www.antiquemystique.com

8. Antique Canisters: Even though these are meant for the kitchen, they'd do just as well decorating an entryway table, a bathroom shelf, etc. If they are destined for the kitchen, canisters with screw-on lids like these are really practical for storing perishable items like flour.

http://www.crateandbarrel.com

 9. A Salt Cellar: If your foodie is as much of a salt addict as I am, he or she will be psyched to have a salt cellar. After about two years of carpel-tunnel-inducing salt shaker...shaking, I finally invested in a salt cellar and love how much more convenient it is when I'm cooking. Of course, any small bowl would work as a salt cellar, but this is America, where we have a special gadget for each action in the kitchen. You're not un-patriotic, are you?

http://www.amazon.com

 10. A Man, A Can, A Plan: No. I'm not serious. But I saw this book at T's friend's house (oh, single straight men and their cooking strategies), and immediately read it cover-to-cover. It's a lifetime supply of GROW recipes. It's horrifying. It calls for items like canned chicken, which I didn't know existed. I will admit, though, that it made me think back fondly to my childhood, when I refused to eat anything but SpaghettiOs. Because, seriously, SpaghettiOs are a main ingredient in these recipes. I'm so weirdly fascinated by this book that I've already asked T if we can name our first child Amanacanaplan. He says no.

So that makes a total of: one cookbook, four glass items, one DVD, one silicone product, one collapsible product, one edible product, and one product with feet. Not bad!

Welp, that's it for now. May your holidays be happy and filled with delicious food.

The Kittchen is a Holiday Cookie Factory

T and I have both been getting home really late this week, so the Kittchen's output is at an all-time low, except for the lunches I've been packing us (not thrilling, trust me). But wait! I have some pretty pictures of the thumbprint cookies I made that I'm going to post in order to trick you into thinking that I'm a prolific chef.

I rolled some of the cookies in crushed almonds. See?

Because the exactness of baking intimidates me, I got about as un-creative as possible and followed a Martha Stewart recipe for one cookie dough, four ways in order to make vanilla and chocolate cookie dough for the gazillion thumbprint cookies we gave as gifts to T's platoon.

Then, I rolled some of the cookies in Turbinado sugar.

It's funny how something as simple as rolling cookie dough in sugar or crushed almonds can make the end-product look so much more professional. I also like the way the crushed almonds hide the fact that quite a few of my cookies cracked open on one side.

The empty spots represent cookies that I sampled...for quality control.

I got so stressed out trying to fill the cookies with raspberry preserves and chocolate ganache without making a giant mess that I kind of forgot to take pictures until this morning. As a result, I have no pictures of the mind-numbingly good cookies that I double-filled with both raspberry preserves and peanut butter chocolate ganache.

Dear Kitt, please remember to take food pictures during the day. Love, Kitt

Our wedding guests will recognize the &$#*^%# York Pieces we gave away as favors in little mason jars (our color scheme was blue and white)...we ended up with about ten bags too many, so I've been sprinkling them into every baked gift I give.

Probably the best thing about doing this (or the worst, depending on how you look at it) was that I discovered how simple it is to make homemade ganache. And I'm slowly coming around to baking, because it's such a fantastic source of holiday gifts that people actually want.

After all, which would you rather eat? A tie? Or a homemade cookie? Unless you're a goat or a rogue paper shredder, I bet you chose the cookie.

Holiday Cookie Roundup: The Web is Your Oyster

There's really no excuse not to bake something delicious for someone you love this holiday season. With websites like the New York Times, Food Network, Whole Foods, and Martha Stewart throwing together gigantic compilations of holiday cookie recipes, it's never been easier to come up with something delicious.

http://www.marthastewart.com

I'm attending my first cookie swap (like I said before, EXTREME HOUSEWIFERY) in a week and a half, and am trying to decide which kind of cookie I'll make. Right now, I'm leaning towards Martha's Lemon Icebox Cookies, but I'm also considering this linzer cookie recipe.

http://www.pastrypal.com

There's also a part of me that wants to make some DELICIOUS gluten-free, dairy-free cookie so that I can show all the wives that there's more to baking than meets the eye. But...but...butter is just such a great cookie ingredient...I don't know if I have gluten-free holiday treats in me right now. But if you're looking for gluten-free holiday cookie recipes, check out the Gluten-Free Goddess, or Gluten-Free Girl and The Chef for some ideas.

It is my strong belief that there's no answer (or recipe inspiration) you can't find on the internet, and I think holiday cookie recipes are a great example of this truth. I haven't even gotten to page three of Google's results, and I've already got five great ideas in mind. Now all I need to do is come up with a list of worthy cookie recipients. I'll send some cookies to my grandmother...drop some off with T's platoon...I'll bring some to the cookie swap...HOORAY HOLIDAYS!

Mexican Hot Chocolate: Spice Up Your Life

 Yes, my title is a reference to the Spice Girls' classic, Spice Up Your Life. Why? Because I used to be a bit of a Spice Girls fan.



The Spice Girls' takeover of the U.S. coincided with When I Was Eleven, and, therefore, also coincided with a really long roadtrip I had to take with my mother and stepfather, during which I pretty much just sat in my seat, blasting "Spice Up Your Life" on my Discman. That's right, my Discman. And I may or may not have written "Silence is golden, but shouting is fun!" in my pink key-lock diary a bunch of times after discovering that wise piece of...widsom in the Spice album insert. I'm an only child.

Anyway, what I'm really here to talk about is Mexican Hot Chocolate, or Hot Chocolate on Steroids. You add a bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, and you get yummy, rich, spiced hot chocolate that makes you wish you had an abuelita of your very own.

Mexican Hot Chocolate

• 1 1/2 cups milk
• 1/2 cup half and half or cream
• 4 oz. semi-sweet chocolate
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
• 2 cinnamon sticks for garnish

 1. In a medium saucepan over medium heat, combine milk, cream, spices, and vanilla. Cook until the mixture has just started to bubble. Do not boil!

2. When the mixture has just started to bubble, add the chocolate and whisk continuously until combined.

3. Serve immediately, with a cinnamon stick for garnish.







This Mexican Hot Chocolate was the perfect antidote to record-setting cold temperatures (of forty...BAHAHAHA) down South yesterday. It was rich and thick, and it reminded me of drinking chocolat chaud at the Place du Capitole in Toulouse when I was a little college junior. Ahh, memories. Ahh, the Spice Girls.

GROW: Thanksgiving Special

I've had some awesome submissions sent to me for the next installment of Gross Recipe of the Week, so I thought I'd offer a special Thanksgiving compilation for your viewing pleasure.

First, we have the Cherpumple, Charles Phoenix's creation that he has called "the turducken of desserts":



I don't...I don't even know. Just...wow. I do wish there was a top layer of coconut cake around a key lime pie. That would really make it perfect, don't you think?

Next, we have good ol' Paula Deen, the Goddess of GROW, showing us how to deep-fry cheesecake:



My favorite is when she adds the "vegetable" at the end. Or maybe my favorite is when she goes cross-eyed from how good the deep-fried cheesecake is.

Our last feature is another one from the Paula Deen Hall of Fame...the Heart Attack Burger:



The first time I heard about this one, it was during an interview with Paula Deen on NPR. I almost drove off the road when she listed the ingredients, but I have to admit that I'm a little curious. If she's using Krispy Kremes, I bet it's actually delicious.

It's almost Thanksgiving, which means strapping on the elastic waistbands and digging in for sixteenth helpings. And maybe even some deep-fried pumpkin pie. In the meantime, go eat a salad.

Crunchy-Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Cookies for Veteran's Day

Instead of looking for a job last night, I decided to bake about fifty cookies for T's platoon in honor of Veteran's Day (and...because I forgot the Marine Corps birthday yesterday until it was too late).

I looked up a few recipes and then decided to kind of make it up as I went along, adding crunchy peanut butter and a tiny bit of almond extract so that the cookie batter ended up tasting exactly like a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. If I hadn't eaten so many spoonfuls of it, I probably could've ended up producing about ten more cookies.

This recipe is for a large batch, but can be halved easily if you aren't trying to feed forty Marines.

Crunchy-Peanut Butter Chocolate Chunk Cookies

• 1 lb. (4 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 4 cups flour
• 4 eggs
• 4 cups semisweet chocolate chunks
• 1 cup crunchy peanut butter
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 1 1/2 cups light brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon almond extract

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Cream the butter and sugars together until well-blended, then add the vanilla and almond extracts and peanut butter, and then the eggs one at a time.  

2. In a separate bowl, mix together the flour, baking soda, and salt, and then stir the dry ingredients into the wet. Add the chocolate chunks last, taking care to stir them in thoroughly so that each cookie has a good ratio of chocolate to cookie.

3. Using a soup spoon or a tablespoon, scoop the cookie batter onto nonstick baking sheets in rows, about 2 inches apart.

4. Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until golden on top and starting to crisp up around the edges. Remove from the oven and let cool for 3-4 minutes before transferring to a wire rack.

These cookies are really simple, and the almond extract adds a great hint of flavor in the background that really boosts the taste of the peanut butter and chocolate. I have no idea if the Marines liked them, because T left them (and my platter) at the barracks. But I'm assuming, based on having tasted them myself, that they're just ridiculously good.

Happy Veteran's Day, and thank you to all our veterans out there.

Cake Pop Obsession

Now, I'm not a baker. I've only just started to get a handle on cooking, and I didn't have the proper equipment during my first two years after college to do it without spending hours preparing doughs, etc. I'd love to say that I'm tough and I don't need appliances to do what bakers have been doing since the first loaf of bread, but I'm not, and I do.

But living in the semi-headquarters of a cake company all summer has gotten me really excited to start baking once T and I have settled at Camp Lejeune. My registry is pretty heavy on the kitchen side, and I've already received the Cuisinart and Kitchen-Aid mixer that will make baking a lot more pleasant.

The first thing I'm making? CAKE POPS!

http://www.bakerella.com/wedding-cake-pops/

I have some idea of how to make cake pops, but it definitely feels like the type of thing I'll need to try a few times before it comes out looking like something you'd want to eat. There's also a lot of multitasking involved, because I'll have to make the cake, temper the chocolate, etc. at roughly the same time. And I think we all know multitasking is something I'm working on.

The first cake pop recipe I found was from The Kitchn, and I kept meaning to make some for my lacrosse team, but always got bogged down reading essays (ugh). I don't foresee having the time to learn to make cake pops before the wedding happens (37 days asd;lkfadf;aos), but they'll be the first thing on my list for when T's Marines need a pick me up this fall.

Traveling Foodie Fail: The George in Wilmington

Two things crossed my mind when I saw the entrance to The George, a restaurant on the riverfront in Wilmington, NC. First: come October 2nd, my last name is going to be George, so that's cool. Second: I love eating on the waterfront, so that's cool, too.

The George may have seemed like a good choice because I was already giddy and drunk on the beauty of Wilmington by that point. It feels like a true southern town, with tall trees shading all the main roads, Spanish Moss dripping from their branches. It's small but charming, and it's definitely a refreshing alternative to all that is Jacksonville.

(All that is Jacksonville.)

Anyway, I checked out the menu and decided that, even though the dishes were a little pricier than I wanted for lunch, I would do my best to channel Calvin Trillin and, wedding shape be damned, take advantage of the opportunity to try some good local food.

We sat out on the porch, which was lovely. And that was the end of our good luck when it came to The George.

In the spirit of exploration and good blog fodder, I decided that we needed to go fried or go home, and so we ordered the Fried Pickle Platter and the Fried Green Tomatoes for appetizers. I chose the Soft-shell Crab Po'boy sandwich for lunch, confident that this was fixin' to be one of the most authentically southern meals I'd ever eaten.

I should have known something was wrong when, in his best Don LaFontaine voice, our server responded to our order with "faaaaab-u-LOUS."

See the pickles? Delicious. Now, see all the other stuff? Atrocious. The pickles were legitimately tasty, with an amazing balance of salty, crunchy, and tart that made the starving bride inside my head beg for more. Everything else was just kind of...there. The sauce had no flavor, the banana peppers were tough and bizarre, and the mozzarella sticks had clearly been sitting out all day and had turned to solid chunks of rubbery grease that felt more like pencil erasers than food.

Next came the Fried Green Tomatoes. I've tried these before on other journeys south and absolutely adored them, so I figured they'd be a safe bet. Unfortunately, not even the fresh mozzarella (an almost foolproof way to make me happy) had any flavor to speak of. The tomatoes themselves were too big, too mushy, and completely bland.

Finally, Mr. Moviefone delivered my Soft-shell Crab Po'boy. I was so busy being horrified by the fact that it was literally a whole deep-fried crab carcass slapped on a bun that I actually forgot to take a picture. Just imagine a crab, trying to scuttle its way off the bun, and being frozen in place by the thickest batter you've ever seen. I think I heard my arteries cry out in terror when I finally managed to work my knife and fork through the cement-like layer of batter, and I know I heard my heart cry out in terror when I took my first and only bite. 

Just like the tomatoes, the sandwich was completely flavorless. Given all the grease I had already ingested by that point, I just couldn't bring myself to "get my money's worth" from a bland sandwich that threatened to make my hips expand and my heart stop.

Mine wasn't the only disappointing meal. M ordered a sad little grilled shrimp appetizer that came absolutely drowning in barbecue sauce, and C ordered a grilled veggie wrap that was soggy and flavorless and that she could have made better herself. The side of white cheddar grits she ordered was crying out for salt, and might have been put to better use as paste in a kindergarten classroom. Save for our fried pickles, none of the food was satisfying, and all of it was overpriced. In short, The George is a rip-off. We left feeling depressed by our complete Fail, and went to get some ice cream*.

*Did I mention I'm trying to look good for a wedding? Ha.

Treats to Try: Babootie, Barbecue, and Blueberry Cocktails

My grandmother has recently moved into a long-term care facility, which is all kinds of depressing. Instead of dwelling on that, let's take a moment to observe the gloriousness that is Granny's sun hat.

Can you tell that I'm obsessed? I may or may not still have it on as I type. It's my thinking cap.

Since this ain't no fashion blog (and that ain't no fashion hat), I thought I'd move on and share with you this installment of Treats to Try: Babootie, Barbecue, and Blueberry Cocktails.

First up is one of the best cookbooks I discovered while packing up Granny's kitchen. And by best, I mean rarest. And by rarest, I mean no one wants this cookbook and therefore no one printed more than like six, and that's why I love it.

1. Yankee's Main Dish Church Supper Cookbook

• This cookbook features recipes for those hallmarks of New England cuisine such as "Red Flannel Hash" (tastes like hipsters?), "Beef Strips Oriental" (bahahahaha those old WASPs), "Carrots Excelsior" (does anyone else picture a giant carrot sword?), "Fish Casserole," and a WHOLE section entitled "Meatballs, Meatballs, Meatballs." It also features something called "Babootie" (South African by origin), which is all kinds of wrong. Ground beef, tomato, onion, banana, apricot jam, apricot, almonds, sugar, curry powder, and vinegar. Wowsah. How the hell that counts as Yankee cuisine is beyond me. Maybe a really, really high Yankee.

2. The North Carolina Barbecue Society Historic Barbecue Trail

• As its name suggests, this is a trail of twenty-five North Carolina barbecue restaurants that meet standards ranging from "cooking their meat on pits fueled by wood or charcoal" to "operating continuously for fifteen or more years and enjoy[ing] the high esteem of their communities, the barbecue industry, and barbecue afficionados." Consider this fair warning; I will conquer the trail. You know how much I love barbecue, and T has already promised that we can spend our weekends hunting down all twenty-five restaurants on the trail (it will be grueling, eating all those ribs and hush puppies) when we move to North Carolina.

3. A Blueberry Gin & Tonic

• Speaking of WASPs, I'm always reminded of gin & tonics when summer rolls around. I have a hard time with gin, though, and I usually prefer either to drown my gin & tonic in a gallon of lime juice, or trade it for a glass of chilled sauvignon blanc. However, blueberry gin & tonics are a different story. You can make your own blueberry simple syrup, or you can be lazy (like me!), and buy some real blueberry juice and add it to a standard gin & tonic. The tartness of the blueberries cuts that leathery gin taste really nicely, and you end up enjoying your cocktail, rather than wishing you could risk your street cred by trading it for something tastier.

That's all for now--I'm off to do another PhotoBooth photo shoot with Granny's hat and try to figure out which of the Yankee recipes I'll be testing out for you, my darling little Babooties. Blech.