The first time I made risotto, I cried. And not like, oh cute-teary-Demi-Moore-cry, but more like a ugly-face-contorted-Carrie-from-Homeland-cry. It was Christmas and the house was filled. I thought it would be a genius idea to make every single dish for Christmas dinner, from scratch, and all by myself. Everything was going great, totally fine, I mean I was frantic and super busy but I was on my way to Martha Stewart hostess-type success, but then…risotto.
Since it was my first time attempting this dish (and I was 16 years old), I had no idea what was involved. I was way over my head. I started the process of toasting the rice, adding the broth, etc. I’m pretty sure I got distracted by various other things and came back to the pot only to be met with a gummy, dried up, disgusting mess. I was heartbroken. Tears fell. An Adrianna-melt-down occurred. There was lots of, “Oh we don’t even like risotto,” that was said over and over to me.
It took me years to give it another go, but when I finally nailed down the process I felt like a damn professional chef, no lie. Nowadays I really, really love making risotto–it’s actually not stressful at all but it took me a while to get to this place of risotto-calm. I found a few fun facts and tips to help along the way, and I’m sharing them–along with the recipe itself–over on Etsy.
The best? What a bratty title. I always think it’s super snobby when someone names a recipe “the best” of anything but sometimes it really is true. Sometimes your aunt’s guacamole is magical and has this one weird and unexpected ingredient that really does make it the best. Sometimes your grandmama really does know the secret to perfect carrot cake. Sometimes it’s valid. This situation here is sort of the best tabbouleh salad I’ve ever had. Like, ever. So here we are with this super pretentious recipe title. I’m sorry…but only a little sorry.
I really love normal tabbouleh salads and I really, really love fattousch salads, so I figured I’d give this tabbouleh salad fattoush-like qualities. Did I just make sense? That was a long sentence.
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I love my friends and my family and my dude, but sometimes it’s really nice to have no one talk to me for a few hours, you know? It’s nice to just be in silence with some beer and paint my nails.
Non sucky dinners for one are good examples on how to date yourself. Yes, yourself. Date nights with yourself. Do you have them? You totally should, they’re the best. For me they usually involve a pair of pjs, an episode or two (or three) of Nashville (currently obsessed), cold cereal, sometimes takeout, but more recently? This bowl.
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Sometimes I just get the urge for crazy and drastic change. Like, maybe chopping my hair all off and having a pixie cut like Michelle Williams or marching into Barney’s and buying a dream bag or moving to a new city where I know no one.
Dreaming about moving to a new city has been doing it for me lately. I’ve been thinking about how awesome it would be to eat in new-to-me restaurants, visit new parks, museums and just create a whole new routine for life. And even the prospect of making new friends in this very new town makes me really excited. Of course Amelia and my dude would come along, too. I have a feeling that Amelia would aide greatly in the whole making new friends department.
This is probably a pipe-dream. I mean, I love Los Angeles, but I’ve been a-dreamin’ lately, hard. And it’s fun.
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I very big part of me hopes and wishes that you read this blog post title as, “Spaghettiii and a Meat-a-balls!”
I feel like I just talked about my love of gangster movies a few weeks ago but I really do love that scene in Goodfellas where they’re all in jail and they’re like, who cares so what and cook up this like massive feast. Oh and that one guy slices the garlic with a razor blade. So unnecessary but so awesome.
The other day I was driving and had a very weird craving for spaghetti and a meat-a-balls! I mean, it’s not super unusual because I could subsist on pasta every single day, but the meatball part is. I never really think to make them, but whenever I do I’m like, why don’t I eat these everyday?! what is wrong with me?!
So, that my friends is what Los Angeles traffic will do to you: crave meatballs.
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One small spoon, a skewer and two adults (me included) were bent over this soup a few days ago, trying super hard to make cute heart dollops made of fromage blanc. I really wish you were present so you could laugh at me and tell me I’m ridiculous. But you’d probably just try and help because most you lovely people have your own blogs and are used to playing with your food until it looks as adorable as possible. Right?!
Sometimes I fuss over stuff because I’m annoying but this soup is as easy as can be. It celebrates of the 65 degree weather that spring is all about. I’m so glad we’re not sweating yet. It’s sweet, a little tart, creamy with a hint of onion from butter-roasted shallots and a spring onion bulb.
This is the soup I want to eat on a cool Tuesday night, sitting on the couch watching the tele. The full recipe is over on Etsy’s blog.
P.S. I’ve been gone most of the week because I’ve been working on fun stuff, video stuff that I will share with you soon. Can’t wait!
I wonder when I’ll stop thinking it’s awesome that I can tweet, check Facebook and blog from 10,000 feet in the air. I hope never because this airplane internet technology makes me feel cool.
I’m currently flying across the country, working my way back to my lil’ corgi after a very short trip to New York City. Whenever I’m in that city, it not-so-gently reminds me how much of a New Yorker I am not. The thirty-degree winds make the skin on my face hurt. The subway system still confuses me. And never has a city made me feel like I’m too smiley for my own good.
But New York is also the city where pink refrigerators live on the sidewalks, it’s the home to epic restaurants and bars that are so cozy and warm, you find yourself there until 4am, talking away with one of your best friends. It’s a magical city. I hope that at some point in my life I can call home, at least for a little while.
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Growing up I had an obsession with gangster movies. It started when I was like ten years old and my film buff of an uncle showed me Reservoir Dogs. When my parents picked me up from his house later that day and I started telling them my favorite lines from the too-grown-up-for-me movie I had just seen, they knew he had corrupted me. My parents were pretty bummed that I now wanted to trade in my Disney princesses for mob dudes, but I’m happy they let me watch all the shoot-’em-up movies I wanted. It made me a more well rounded child, I think.
So, When I used to think of gnocchi, my brain would first think of The Godfather 3, which, by the way, never see. Truly awful. It was the world’s first introduction to Sofia Coppola. She was sitting on a table in a velvet black dress, looking drop dead gorgeous, rolling gnocchi. While the movie was a total bust and super sad because it could’ve been good, the gnocchi scene is still one of my favorite food scenes.
If you’ve ever made gnocchi, it’s hardly diffcult, but much like pupusas, it’s very touch and feel. And I do think making it for the first time might be a little intimidating, so I figured doing a little how to on making gnocchi might be helpful.
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Happy Easter, my fwiendz. I grew up very Catholic, so Easter in my house was a big deal. It was the day when we got to eat whatever it was we gave up for Lent. Most years I gave up sugar. Except for that one year when I tried to “give up” vegetables–that totally didn’t fly.
So, since I was coming off of a serious sugar deprivation, Easter always meant stuffing my face with Peeps and Cadbury Eggs, which is weird because I don’t even think I liked them very much. I just needed a lil’ sugar fix.
Now, as a grown-up who isn’t religious, I still love Easter. It’s nice to gather some friends, eat outside, have brunch, talk and enjoy each other’s company.
Whether you’re celebrating the holiday or just chilling with friends, lamb is always the move. I went through a phase when I refused to eat cute animals. This included bacon. This phase did not last long. At all.
This lamb is rubbed with herbes de Provence, lemon zest and a good amount of salt. It’s seared and then roasted. The mint pesto is bright, tart and so super Spring-like. I just love it. Hop over to Etsy’s blog for the recipe.
And if you’re looking for more Easter recipe inspo, I love these Avocado Deviled Eggs I made last September, oh and these Egg and Cheese Hash Brown Nests (I mean, how cute are they!) or even this Rasberry Vanilla Smash Lemonade would be a winner.
Spring is here and I’m pumped.
Let me start by saying that if your grandmother makes pupusas, she probably makes them better than me. And if your grandmother taught you how to make her pupusas, then you probably make them better than me.
But if you, like me, don’t have a Salvadorian grandmother and have never made them/heard of them, then I feel like you’re my target audience today.
Since I’m Salvadorian-grandmother-less, this recipe on how to make pupusas started with me taking a trip to South Los Angeles to eat one of the best pupusas in this city at Los Churros. They were cheesy (oh so cheesy!), filling, hearty and so flavorful.
Pupusas are made from masa harina (cormeal flour) or rice flour. They are usually stuffed with delicious things like beans, shredded pork or cheese. And since they tend to be so rich and cheesy, they are topped with a pickled cabbage situation that adds a refreshing, light and tangy element that really balances the whole thing out.
When I made them for the first time, I realized how similar they were to arepas. When my mom taught me how to make arepas (she was taught by my father’s Colombian great aunt), she taught me with no measurements, just touch and feel and how the dough looked. For someone like me who sort of thinks in ratios, it was SUPER annoying.
But I get it, a lot of this is just touch and feel. SO, since that’s the case, I figured I’d do a little how-to.
And here we go! (A GAZILLION PICTURES TO FOLLOW.)
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