September 2010

When one decides they’re gonna live in LA, they knowingly or unknowingly make a deal with the city.

It goes a little something like this: you will pay a ridiculous amount in rent, endure bumper-to-bumper traffic, receive parking tickets when you read the five posted signs, did the math and could’ve sworn you were okay to park there.  And you might just cough a little after a hike because of the smog, and you’ll learn what it feels like to pay for parking just when you wanna go to the mall.

But in return, LA will give you something so awesome that you’ll forget about all the drama (sort of):  some of the most beautiful weather in the country. Most of the time, LA totally comes through.  Most of the time.  Not this week.

This week…umm…LA has not held up its side of the bargain.  For the past five days it’s been blisteringly hot, like, as in some of the hottest weather I’ve ever experienced.  And I’ve from Florida, so that’s saying a lot.  I kinda feel like the city owes me some sort of reimbursement, ya know, or at least a certified apology.

As I wait for my check, I’m figuring out ways to make the best of it…

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Okay, I may have exaggerated a bit by calling these fritters “super exciting.” But I felt like I needed something to counter-act the fact that these are made of turnips and it’s hard to find a less exciting sounding word than “turnip”. Due to the dullness of it’s name I think turnips are often overlooked in the food world. I mean, who thinks of turnips when you have ingredient options like blood oranges, sweet potatoes, cherry tomatoes or Vidalia onions? If produce were children and recipes were kickball teams, turnips would probably get picked last every time.

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Lovelies! Whoa, the first day of fall was this week. Unfortunately, in LA, it feels more like summer, with temperatures predicted to get up in the high 80′s this weekend. That sucks for me because I can’t stop dreaming about chunky sweaters, beautiful brown boots and warm, cozy drinks.

So I took it upon myself  to make a very “fall” drink, customized to the weather’s weirdness: an ICED Pumpkin Spice Latte.  It’s the taste of fall poured over ice, making it this unusual mix of refreshing and cozy.

This should go without saying, but this drink can also be made hot. I’m actually really looking forward to sipping on this in a month while sitting outside in a gigantic sweater.

Bright orange leaves and Pumpkin Spice Lattes are what dreams are made of.  Believe that.

And now for a few thoughts on this recipe…

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There are some things in the South that you just can’t find elsewhere in the country. Sweet tea is number one. I’m not sure why everyone else has issues with combining tea and sugar, but Southerners are pros.

Fried okra. Actually, make that okra in general. I have seen okra at the farmer’s markets here in California, but every time I buy some the guy at the stand looks at me like I’ve just asked to buy the only bruised and rotting tomato that he owns. Seriously dude, I know how to cook this stuff.

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Whenever I think of good hybrids, the first thing that comes to mind are designer dogs, bred purely to fill the high standards of cuteness our society currently has. They are:

Goldendoodles (Golden Retriever + Poodle = ridiculously cute genius type)

Labradoodles (Labrador + Poodle = super friendly genius type)

Puggles (Beagle + Pug = the smallest pile of cuteness ever)

Maltipoos (Maltese + Poodle = super smart small animal)

My recent hybrid obsession isn’t dog related at all. Surprisingly, I know. It’s a food hybrid and it’s been around for a really long time, and is about as American as baseball and Bruce Springsteen.  Word on the street is that it was actually served morning, day and night at Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello Home. Fancy. It’s called:

Spoon Bread (Grits + Cornbread = homey, comforting, awesomeness)

Since I love both grits and cornbread, it’s sort of an ideal dish for me. And because I would never dream of having grits without cheese, I thought it’d be a smart move to add cheddar and bit of chives for a punch of color and texture.

You start with pretty much making grits. Pouring your milk into your saucepan with few tablespoons of butter.

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It’s fall! Summer was great, but it’s time for something new. I’m not sure what it is about the fall air, but it makes me feel adventurous. So guess what we’re going to make today? Homemade ravioli! Without eggs! Or a pasta maker! We’re doing this all by hand! Don’t freak out, this is totally gonna work out fine. Seriously, it’ll be delicious.

OK, let’s do this.

First, you add exactly one cup of hot water to exactly 2 ½ cups of flour. Resist the urge to add eggs; I know it’s probably difficult.

Stir that up with a spoon or your hands until you have a nice little dough ball. Allow to sit for a few minutes so it can cool down a bit. Now separate this into two balls. See? We’re doing so well! [click to continue…]

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Let’s do some food math.

In the above picture there are seven pretty banana fritters. Below are two bananas, sliced into eleven pieces.

Eleven minus seven equals four. Now you know how many banana fritters I stuffed in my mouth before I forced myself to stop.

I had to a get a decent picture. When I loaded the pictures onto my computer I noticed that I only took three photos of the final fritters. THREE! I was so psyched about them that I didn’t even have the patience to take photos.

All this just means that you must make them and forgive me for the sorta out of focus shot above. I had fritters to eat.

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My wedding dress and I are in a staring contest. See, my wedding is less than a month away and I have to fit. Seriously, if it means that I don’t exhale the entire evening, then that’s a sacrifice that must be made.

Just to bring you up to speed, I’m not wearing your average wedding dress. I’ve actually altered my grandmother’s dress that she wore in 1946.  Here’s what it looked like then:

Dude, isn’t my grandmother a fox? Is it weird to think that about your grandmother? It is? Yeah, just ignore that then.

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Yesterday I read Ree’s list of Ten Important Things About Blogging and one of the things she recommended was to tell people who visit and read your blog that you love them.

So I figured our relationship had gotten to that point where I should tell you. And though it feels a bit awkward to be the first to say it–I don’t care. Sometimes you gotta be the first to say it, ya know? Almost like ripping a band-aid off of a hairy arm.

So here it is: I love you. For reals.

I think it’s pretty amazing how you come here each day, or every other day or even once a month, to check out what’s cooking, and what random things are being said.

I love this blog so dang much. Mainly because it gives me an excuse to cook things I never would otherwise. In this case, it’s pushed me to the point where I no longer suck at making pudding.

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This post is gonna be a bit sentimental. I apologize, but going to weddings does that do me. I’m freshly back from a trip to North Carolina to see Chase’s step-brother get married, and am exhausted and happy from an amazing weekend.

A lot happened in just one day:

I saw my future brother-in-law smile more times than I’ve seen in the 5 years I’ve known him.

I ate more wedding cake than I did actual food. Don’t tell my mother.

I saw my future father-in-law cry. Twice.

I did the Cupid Shuffle. It happens.

I saw two awesome people become one beautiful couple.

Stop rolling your eyes, I told you this was a sentimental post. I tried to warn you.

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