Are you giving me side-eye right now? I’m pretty sure I know what you’re thinking. This is weird. You’re not wrong; putting green chiles in chocolate pudding is weird but it’s also really cool and interesting.
I think we’re all pretty used to the idea of spice and chocolate together. But it’s usually more like chipotle pepper or Ancho chile pepper, not green chiles, which aren’t really all that spicy at all.
This is another New Mexico-inspired dessert. When we had dessert at the Santa Fe Cooking School one of the desserts had butterscotch with diced green chiles. I loved the combination of sweet, rich with the pieces of green chile so I took that idea and made this.
Last week I spent a few days in New Mexico (whole re-cap coming soon!) and one of the best things I ate during my trip were sopapillas. Have you had a sopapilla before? There are different iterations; before last week, the only version I have had were South American and Tex-Mex versions, but the puffy ones you see pictured are vastly different.
The New Mexican-style sopapilla is almost like a cross between a South American sopapilla and a Native American fry bread. Think of them like that. They’re soft and fluffy and puffy. You’re supposed to dust them with lots of powdered sugar, pinch off a corner and drizzle honey inside them. They leave you licking your fingers with a bunch of powdered sugar all over your face but you won’t care, trust me.
A few holiday seasons ago, my friend Cassie gave me a jar of Chinese mustard. I put it literally on everything for months: scrambled eggs, breakfast sandwiches, pretzels, grilled cheese. You name it, I smothered it on all the things.
I’ve always been a lover of making condiments, but after her gift, it made me love the homemade iterations even more. So, with that good memory in mind, that’s what we’re doing today.
Today I share with you the fourth part of my series with Wolf and their initiative to #reclaimthekitchen. Reclaiming your kitchen can mean cooking simple meals, setting aside time to cook more often, and taking the time to cook with friends and family and in this case, for them. This includes things that are fuss-free and result in big payoffs. To see other recipes, check out the Wolf’s Reclaim the Kitchen website.
This recipe is as easy as can be. It may not seem like that in the beginning–the milk mixture does weird things, like go from white to light brown to dark, dark brown. It also foams up a bit–so be sure to use a big enough pot so it doesn’t boil over. But in the end, you’ll be met with a thick, jammy (in texture), caramel-y, milky-tasting treat. I can’t describe it exactly but I will say I LOVE it on all sorts of things. I put it on ice cream, which I think is the most obvious choice, but there’s also a slice of toast, in coffee (yes, says the coffee snob) or even on a warm, fluffy biscuit.
This cake is up on da blog. Which means I’m officially out of a slump (I think). I feel like there’s been this little emoji cloud hanging above me as I walk around.
I flunked at making yeasted biscuits. They were boring and bland and made me fall asleep because I hated them so much. I burned rhubarb jam because I was distracted with texting. The carrot soup I made was just ok, but not anything that wooed me. And then this cake exited the oven and I was like….deng…bowchicabowowow.
I feel like it’s a cross between sexy and demure. Like, a girl who can work a stripper pole but who is then capable of putting on a dress and sit in church (or temple, whatever you’re into to) nicely, quietly, prettily. Think of it like a V dimensional cake. She is capable of that 360 life.
When I was a kid, my mom was big on dishes and meals that utilized an assembly line. For instance, taco night, huge assembly line situation. Beef in one big bowl, toppings like lettuce, guacamole, cheese and tomatoes all in an array of small bowls. My mom didn’t stop at cooking; she was huge on creating assembly lines with the laundry too. She believed in making us pitch in…at least a little. Surprisingly my brother and I hardly ever complained. I think it’s because she always did it in a way that made it seem like a game, it seemed fun.
Today I share with you the third part of my series with Wolf and their initiative to #reclaimthekitchen. As I mentioned in my last post within this series, reclaiming your kitchen can mean cooking simple meals, setting aside time to cook more often, and taking the time to cook with friends and family. This includes getting them to be involved; it’s so much more fun that way anyway and is a great way to share tips and tricks in the kitchen. To see other recipes that would be a good fit for any sort of assembly line situation, check out the Wolf’s Reclaim the Kitchen website.
This rhubarb crisp is a good recipe, too, since it has a few super easy components. There’s enough work for everyone! Just kidding, but seriously, everyone could have their own separate little job so they feel useful and like they’re contributing.
The first step is hulling the strawberries and slicing the rhubarb into thin slices. Couldn’t be easier but it does take a bit of time getting through those strawberries. I find prep work is done quickly alongside gossip, music or podcasts.
Hello you sweet gorgeous lil’ pie, you. I want to squish your cheeks like a grandma does a baby; I want to slap you on the ass like boys do in the locker room (I never understood this); I want to hug you so tightly that you get mad at me (I do this to Amelia daily). That’s how I feel about this pie.
This has Easter brunch situation written all over it. It’s the thing you bring to a brunch party and just wait for people to compliment you like crazy. And you can respond all NBD-like, Oh this pie, I just threw it together in like no time flat. Act casual.
If you’re not a rhubarb fan it’s probably because it was way too tart. It’s like tart celery.
I’ve just binge-watched the entire eighth season of The Voice and I am in love with Gwen Stefani more than I was as a teenager, which is a crazy amount. I wish I was a singer just so I could try out for the voice with the hope she would want me on her team. But if I’m being honest, no one should hear me sing, EVER. Amelia hears me sing all day long and surprisingly she loves it (I think).
Oddly enough, I’m the worst singer in the world, but I love, LOVE karaoke. I don’t love to participate in karaoke, I just love to watch it. And here in LA, the land of Hollywood and fame and music, the karaoke bars are filled with people who moved here to become famous singers.
There was this one place in Hollywood I used to visit all the time called Miyagi’s; it was behind a Denny’s, attached to a bad sushi restaurant. No one ate sushi there but people loved singing karaoke at the bar.
The singers were incredible. There was the Asian dude who sang Guns and Roses ONLY (and he’d actually wear a Slash wig); there was this beautiful African American woman that sounded like India Aire but better; there was the guy from the mid-west who sounded like Frank Sinatra but looked like a surfer; and there was the MC who had been there since the 80s. The place was magical.
It was filled with people who had sort of given up on their dream; most of them had day jobs doing other things that they were ok with but they’d come to Miyagi’s to sing, because they couldn’t not.
It’s Wednesday but I wish it was Sunday. It’s spring but for the first time in my entire life, I wish it was summer. I’m currently working a lot, but I wish I was on vacation. And I’m not talking about one of those vacations where you stay in your own hometown. No, no. I’m talking island life. With a coconut in hand. And lots of ice cream in my life. Snorkeling, very large turtles that are sort of scary but they move slowly so it’s ok.
I want to live in a bathing suit (and I hate wearing bathing suits so this says A LOT!). If winter has been hard on you and all you want in your life is the sun on your face and a cold drink in your hand, stop what you’re doing and make these Hawaiian Sweet Rolls.
I didn’t grow up baking, like at all. My mom was more of a cook because it lent itself to improvisation (her strength) and the idea that you could throw everything but the kitchen sink in a pot and make it work as dinner. Baking doesn’t work that way, as you know. It requires attention to detail, a bit of precision and following directions.
When I graduated college, I started baking a lot because I loved how methodical it was. After a really long week full of to-do lists and meetings and running around, I found it so soothing to follow a set of instructions and end up with something awesome, regardless of how easy or difficult the recipe. It was and still is my favorite stress-reliever.
You want to know what a really bad idea sounds like? Of course you do! It sounds like this:
Be home all alone with your really friendly, non-protective corgi and then binge-watch The Jinx. You know, that documentary about the rich murderer who dismembered his neighbor, along with a few other people. I’m not sure you can exist in the world and NOT know about this series. The news of him being arrested is everywhere. But even with him in jail, watching that show all by yourself, in a creaky old apartment is a recipe for a very terrified Adrianna. NO BUENO.
You want to know what a really good idea sounds like? Yes you do! This pot de creme. Girl. It’s good.