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by Miss K

Diggin’ DC Dirt: A Raised-Bed Garden Adventure

Part One: We’ve been framed

My indoor basil plant looks like this:

I know, pathetic. Believe me, when I was pregnant, it was the inspiration for many “so you think you’re ready for parenthood” cracks. My response was, there is a reason that babies scream when they are hungry.

Elijah is eight months old now, and so far so good, so this summer, my dear spouse and I decided to take on another complicated project for which we were only minimally qualified: a raised bed garden. I hear that these are trendy at present, but let me tell you, that trend hasn’t reached my neighborhood. Our block seems to favor vegetation more like this:

New age sculpture or misguided but admirable attempt to grow a beer tree? You decide.

We decided on the back porch as the locale for our foray into botany. Large and concrete, it has thus far served little purpose aside from storing some semi-decaying deck chairs. The whole back “yard” is paved over, so it seemed like concrete was our fate. We called up our friend Pat, who jumped at the chance to bust out some power tool action. He and Kurt (my husband) headed to Home Depot for supplies. They were gone for about three hours, reasons for which are still unclear, and returned with some very long pieces of wood. The folks at HD were kind enough to cut the 12-ft. boards into two sections, 10 ft. and 2 ft. Pat was a little sad about not having a chance to use his circular saw.

by Borracho

I’ll Have What the Doctor Ordered

I must admit, I have probably spent more time in hospitals than someone my age should. Whether it has been for professional reasons, my own health needs or to visit others, it seems like every month I am walking along sterile hallways with my shoes squeaking. Despite these regular visits, whenever I think of hospitals, more than anything else, I always think about hospital food.

Truthfully, I love hospital food! At this point you probably have the image of lukewarm, processed fare being wheeled down the hallway in a large blue cart—and immediately think I am crazy.

Typical hospital food is the same as any institutional cafeteria: half cooked grilled cheese, jello, aluminum tasting tomato soup, stale coffee, etc… Not particularly inventive or interesting, but that is part of why I think I love it so much. Hospitals are always stressful and this familiar food is comfort. Maybe it’s even more than comfort. Maybe it is that hospital food allows us to step away from a family or friend’s bedside to find the cafeteria and forget about things for a few minutes while eating chicken fingers and watery honey mustard. Maybe it’s the reality that when you’re admitted to the hospital, it is extremely monotonous and mealtime is one of the few things to look forward to. Maybe it’s just the ironic fact that a lot of hospital food has enough salt and fat to sedate an elephant. Whatever the reason, bad hospital food is a wonderful thing to me.

After I had eaten some overcooked carrots, roast chicken and a lil plastic cup of cranberry juice the other day, I began to think about all these things. We ask a lot of our food. Besides expecting it to taste great, we expect it to nourish and excite us. We derive parts of our identity from food and impart a great deal of emotional heft to it. Sometimes it serves to expand our horizons and sometimes it just brings us a sense of comfort and safety. The fact that you’re reading Endless Simmer today is proof that food means these things to you, and probably a lot more.

As a few weeks pass, I will start sharing some other food and drink experiences and may even find myself railing against the large conglomerates that oversee industrial food services, but for today, I will give them a pass. I suppose that comforting isn’t always what’s best but sometimes it is just what the doctor ordered.

(Photo: Jayneandd)

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by Russell Warnick

Summer Cocktail Season: The New Moscow Mule

A couple of weeks ago I received a text from a friend who was having dinner at DC’s newest taqueria, El Centro, D.F. He asked me if I had ever tried a Moscow Mule. I immediately had a flashback to New Years Eve 1995. I was 15 and my older sister had taken me under her wing to a nightclub in my hometown in England. If you’re familiar with the UK bar scene you’ll know that they’re not too strict on ID and age restriction — I used a fake birth certificate to get in the door — and well, I don’t remember much other than drinking the night away on one too many pre-bottled Smirnoff Mules, to the point of not ever drinking them again.

I had a perverted hope that El Centro, D.F. would be serving these pre-mixed bottles, but my hopes were dashed. Instead I found a seductively crafted cocktail from El Centro’s beverage director, Brennan Adams. I’m not sure what has happened to the Moscow Mule I first encountered and quite frankly, I don’t care. Adams’ version, with its summer fresh tones, splash of beer, and peppery aftertaste, is a whole new kind a mule. I spoke with Adams about his drink, explaining it was too good not to share, and he was kind enough to give me the recipe.

in Drinks / Endless Cocktails / Personal / Recipe / Restaurants 2 comments

by Russell Warnick

Revenge Served Cold: Nettle Pesto

Growing up in England nettles were a large part of my childhood, whether I liked it or not — and I generally didn’t. This wretched plant caused many a tear in my household, its stinging leaves leaving immense pain that lasted for hours, with little sympathy from my parents as I was usually up to no good in the garden or local park, causing said sting.

When I saw nettles at the local farmers’ market here in D.C., I jumped at the chance to fight back, to serve justice to this leafy plant once and for all. There’s very little you can actually do with nettles, the most obvious was soup, but in these late spring months it seemed a tad too warm for that. I settled on pesto, a simple and versatile sauce that I could use in many dishes.

We’ve cooked basil brownies and avocado milkshakes, now it’s time for the nettle pesto.

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by Miss K

One-Man Food Fight

Let’s face it.

Feeding a baby is gross.

And by face it, I mean rub it all over our faces, put it anywhere but inside our mouths, and hope that some nutrition is absorbed through our pores. At least, that’s seems to be my darling child’s interpretation of “face it.” As in:

“Elijah, open your mouth so I can spoon some mush into it.”
“No, Mom, I’d rather face it.”

In the past few weeks we have progressed from total body coverage to mainly face/bib/hand/spoon, but it’s still a messy, messy business, this baby feeding.

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by gansie

Tomorrow Your Tweets Can Make a Difference

I’m just as guilty as the rest of the twitterverse. I actually think that my little tweet will gain attention, will start a conversation, will change something that I care about. Well, mostly no RTs, MTs, DMs or other acknowledgments glorify my existence on Twitter. But that all changes tomorrow.

Share Our Strength, a national nonprofit, connecting children with the nutritious food they need to lead healthy, active lives will be holding its annual Dine Out for No Kid Hungry events on September 18th – 24th. But, their tweeting campaign—TwEAT OUT—starts TOMORROW, MAY 4TH by trying to recruit restaurants around the country to join in.

In 2010, over 4,000 restaurants joined together to raise more than $1.5 million for Share Our Strength’s Dine Out For No Kid Hungry. This year, the organization wants to rally over 5,000 restaurant locations to participate in the program to help raise funds for the fight to end childhood hunger in America by 2015.

What You Can Do

Join the twEAT OUT and ask your favorite restaurants to be a part of this national event through Twitter.

Tweet Examples:

Hey @RESTAURANTNAME! Be a part of @Dine_Out for #NoKidHungry. I’ll dine w/ you during @Dine_Out if you register! http://bit.ly/gXcnwh

@RESTAURANTNAME, will u help end child hunger by joining @Dine_Out? Register here: http://tinyurl.com/ng79x5#nokidhungry

Just 1 in 6 eligible kids get free summer meals. @RESTAURANTNAME help change that. Be part of @Dine_Out for #NoKidHungry http://tinyurl.com/ng79x5

So join with Endless Simmer and Share Our Strength and finally make good use of all that tweeting. For more information, check out www.nokidhungry.org/dineout.

(Photo: Share Our Strength)

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by BS

Well, Moist and Wet Would Get a Lot of Search Hits

In another addition to the ever expanding why didn’t I think of this first? file, Eick over at So Good had the rather brilliant idea of starting a food blogger comic strip. And this week’s outing of John Q. Foodblogger gives some props to Endless Simmer.

Of course, long-time readers know that this blog was almost called “culinarylingus,” so he may be on the right track.

You can follow the rest of JQF’s adventures here.

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