The Taste of Bursting Sunshine

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One of the palates I attempt to cater to is that of Romeo, my bf.  Romeo is a rather demanding discerning eater. He doesn’t like it when I add diced garlic to a dish.  Romeo prefers garlic minced with the pampered chef garlic press that lives in our kitchen (which, to be honest, is hands-down the best garlic press I have ever used, lemme tell you). I comply with this demand suggestion. Romeo prefers his meals more gently spiced than I like mine. (To be fair some like it hot, and some like it hotter still, and I represent a dot somewhere near the hot-hot-hot end of the bland-to-razzle dazzle spicy continuum. This I admit.) I’ve tried to tone down the hotness for Romeo’s wimpy sensitive taste buds, and with occasional exceptions, I usually succeed in a palatable compromise for the both of us.

There is one thing that Romeo had asked for since I first took on the position of his chef-in-chief (or “kitchen dictator” as Romeo insists on calling me) that for a while absolutely bewildered me:  “flying saucer squashes.”

The conversation we had on several occasions always went something like this:

Maids: Do you want anything from the store?

Romeo (smiling and excited): Yes. Bring me the flying-saucer-squashes so we can use them in a curry.  They taste like bursts of sunshine.

Maids (genuinely curious):  What do you mean?

Romeo (short temper spent, yelling now): Buy those little yellow flying saucer squashes at the grocery store so we can put them in curry and they’ll taste like sunshine!

Maids: I don’t know what you mean by flying saucer squashes! Are they thin skinned or thick skinned? Summer or winter?

Romeo (frustrated and stamping both feet): They’re summer squashes that look like baby flying saucers and taste like sunshine! God!

I know he’s adorable, but that wasn’t much to go on, right?  Especially since  I’d never before encountered flying saucer-like  squashes.  I knew, however, that I needed to address Romeo’s unrequited craving for a summer squash that looked like a flying saucer and tasted like sunshine.

Recently, after over a year and a half of being unable to fulfill this request, I had a follow-up investigatory conversation with with Edouble and Miked (who have been feeding Romeo for far longer than I).  Edouble filled me in:  these squashes, for which both Edouble and Romeo have a special affinity, are commonly known as sunburst squashes.  They are small and round with scalloped tops and they are usually available only in the summer season.

More research yielded further knowledge: the pattypan squash (A.K.A. white squash/button squash/sunburst squash) comes in yellow, white, and green colors, is most tender when immature, and is often served  fried, curried, and stuffed.  It sounded delicious, and I was on a mission to make a curry with the pattypan as the M.V.I. (Most Valuable Ingredient 😉 thanx ES commenter “LC”) of the dish.

My successful search for the pattypans and the recipe for the Pattypan Vegetable Thai Curry after the jump…

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Feed Us Back: Comments of the Week

Charles Thompson seconds our outrage about Barack Obama’s burger order: I’ve been eating rare to medium rare burgers for years and have never gotten sick. I just don’t understand anyone who eats meat cooked in the ‘well’ category. It’s not really meat by that point!

Although the aptly named Michael Cook begs to differ: I’m all for having a steak medium rare, but never for a burger. Most harmful bacteria lives on the outer surface of meat, which for ground meat becomes the inside as well…

But good ol’ Sean Hannity had our favorite response to the eater-in-chief’s burger run: How dare he order socialist mustard!

– Meanwhile, mariah carey is not impressed with Tom Colichhio’s sandwich chain:

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Mint Julep Cupcakes

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No more for me, thanks; I’m driving.

May isn’t the most holiday-heavy month of the year, and because of that, most people tend to associate it with one of two days: Memorial Day, which is a real holiday, and Cinco de Mayo, which is not. For people of the Southern persuasion, however, May is all about the first Saturday of the month: the running of the first leg of the Triple Crown, the most exciting two minutes in sports, Kentucky Derby Day. Big hats, mint juleps, blue grass, Hot Browns, mint juleps, bourbon, fried green tomatoes, mint juleps, etc. Oh, and there’s a horse race or something, too.

But you needn’t celebrate horse racing for only three days of the year. (Fine, just two days – only douchebag frat boys celebrate Preakness.)

Like most legacy cocktails, the history of the mint julep is clouded in the hangover of the past. The name itself is a mutation of the Persian word for “rosewater,” and we can see how far it’s come from that simple definition. Even just a debate over the proper preparation of the drink is equivalent to fightin’ words in some circles of the Deep South. Muddle the mint or no? Simple syrup or superfine sugar? Cracked ice or seltzer water? It hardly matters, since a long drink like the mint julep is little more than a bourbon delivery system anyway. Besides, we’re making cupcakes today, albeit those of the boozy, minty, julep-y variety.

My horse lost, by the way. Stupid longshots. Off to the glue factory, you worthless flea biscuit!

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Why Do I Love the ‘Hungry Girl’ But Hate the ‘Bitches’?

Hungry Girlvs.Skinny Bitch

First, My Rant

I have to admit that I harbored a certain prejudice against the Skinny Bitches before I ever cracked the binding of their book, (which I did look through about a month back as I was killing time during a long airport lay-over).  I didn’t like the idea behind their book, I didn’t like the title, and I haven’t liked the people I’ve met who rave about the book and how it’s changed their lives.  My worst fears were confirmed when I read the first few pages and browsed the index and chapter headings.  The book capitalizes on the worst of body-loathing and self-loathing that permeates our culture, but the ‘Bitches’ insist that their book is dedicated to changing the world by converting people to a vegan diet that will get them to eat better.   But they aren’t just meat haters (a loathing which I can understand…. as I’m just not that into the harvesting and consumption of flesh myself). They hate on caffeine, sugar, wine, fun, and all human bodies that don’t live up to the painstakingly emaciated “ideal.”

The Bitches initiate their readers into their bitchy crew with heavy doses of castigation (they inform their readers that they are suffering from “bloated fat pig syndrome.” Ouch…. please miss, may I have another?), followed by model-body idolatry (“healthy = skinny”) , topped with a whole slew of rules we should all follow more closely than the ten commandments (like “sugar is the devil” and drinking alcohol “equals fat-pig syndrome” and “coffee is for pussies”).  They also have a whole chapter dedicated to Pooping.  Hmmm… do I smell former laxative abusers therein….?

More on the “Bitches” I hate, the “Hungry Girl” I love, and a chance to voice your views after the jump…

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Cupcake Rampage: Red Velvet Cupcakes

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Like any proper Southern belle, the red velvet cupcake  never goes anywhere without a stylish hat.

The American South’s red velvet cake is another one of those regional favorites whose fame has far outlasted its own origins. No one seems to know exactly why these traditionally local confections were tinted red in the first place, and the stories that are traded around vary wildly and don’t include much fact-checking. I’m neither from the South nor a traditionalist, so for a little more insight, I consulted the closest thing I know to a Southern belle, my friend Ruby in Florida:

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Bean-a-holic

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I’m going to let you all in on an open secret: I’ve been told I have a way with beans.  I know, what a glorious claim to fame. But I have to admit that I LOVE beans.  I NEED beans. All kinds of beans, prepared in all sorts of ways (as long as they aren’t refried…. I don’t do refried).  I’m a particularly big fan of chick peas/garbanzos, black and red beans.  I cook some kind of bean dish about once a week. My Romeo complains on occasion.  He claims his at-times, ahem, flatulent tendencies are a result of my overuse of beans as a staple food in our diet.  Whatever, my stomach is not affected thusly and beans are good for your heart, right?  Romeo should be thanking me!  I know, I overshare! But, the cabal of smarty-pants USDA scientists do recommend that American adults consume at least 3 cups of beans a week to promote health and reduce the risk of colon cancer, etc.  My friends, I’m totally beating the curve!

Another secret: if you soak beans overnight and then rinse them, cook them for a while, and then rinse them again you can eliminate most of the sugars that promote gas formation. In the wise words of one of Bart Simpson’s  chalkboard etchings:   “Beans are neither fruit nor musical.” (BTW- shouldn’t the Simpsons creators convert the chalkboard to the much maligned, but now ubiquitous, dry-erase board in the newer episodes? Who’s with me?)

Now, I prefer to make some bean dishes from canned beans (especially when I’m making a bean-based puree like hummus).  When I have time, however, I like to cook the thin-skinned beans (navy beans, black beans, red beans) the long way.  The difference in taste and texture between dry black beans and canned beans is really worth the planning and work that goes into cooking them.  But, ladies and gentleworms, cooking dry beans does require time. So do feel free to take the following recipe and use it with canned black beans instead of dry black beans.

My Amazing Black Bean Recipe after the jump

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Cupcake Rampage: Maple Muffincakes

mappy nappy

Maple cupcakes, er, muffins? Doesn’t matter to whoever couldn’t wait and took a bite already.

Some vegans balk at consuming honey, especially mass-produced honey, claiming it’s a product of animal labor. Not too many people would say the same thing about maple syrup, even though it arguably exploits a plant of its natural resources, keeping them hooked up to galvanized buckets all winter like intensive care patients or perennial blood donors. That’s a debate I’m not willing to engage in today. Today, we’re making cupcakes. Or maybe muffins? What’s the difference, anyway? Another conversation for the ages…

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