First, that last post with the random numbers wasn’t supposed to be a post.  It was a test for a website I was making.  And then I forgot to delete it.  Oh well.  It stays now.

Also, I wrote this like 6 months ago while watching the Lost finale.  I only actually wrote stuff until about halfway through, at which point I got all pissed off and did more shouting at the TV in disbelief than I did actually writing about what was going on.  But I just read it again, and…it’s too funny to just throw away.

Although most likely it’s only funny if you actually watched the Lost finale.  If not then just…skip this nonsense.  It’s probably only funny to me anyway.

Maybe that’s just because my neighbor took an hour and a half long shower this morning from 1:30 a.m. to 3 a.m. and the water pump in this building always makes a high pitched whining sound that wakes me up, and I never went back to sleep.  I should probably take a shower now since it’s 6:30 in the morning and they’re probably sleeping now.  And I should probably try to drop things as much as possible while in there.

Or better yet, just turn the shower on for about 3 hours while I go about writing stupid blog posts.  Hey, I don’t pay a water bill, it’s included in my rent.  I could fill up my entire bathroom and use it as a swimming pool and not have to pay a dime extra.

But I digress.  Here’s my Lost finale liveblog.  And more on the circumstances surrounding that evening later.

OMGz, Sayid’s alive!

Heh, Sawyer’s being bitter and sarcastic.  Much like I used to be.

Ugh.  I’m already sick of this flash sideways thing.  Kate’s holding Claire at gunpoint?  Arzt is being ridiculous?

DIDN’T WE DO THIS ALREADY BUT ON THE ISLAND?!?!?!?!  I bet you a million bucks that Claire’s not pregnant.  They’re totally covering her lap on purpose.

Oh hell.  I owe you a million bucks.  And she’s wearing her original island outfit.  The actors must be so freaking sick of those costumes.

Heh, Miles’ commentary on Hurley’s leadership is awesome.  And yes, it is pretty great.

It’s funny, because I actually don’t remember what happened in this episode. What was pretty great?  I mean, I get the gist of it, but…honestly I don’t have a clue what I was talking about here.

Oh, Sayid.  Jack didn’t save your life, that was Mr. Miyagi and the ripoff of John Lennon with their mystical hot tub filled with iced tea.  But I bet Jack’s going to take the credit for it.  Ass.

Wait, Sawyer’s got a gun?

Ha, she’s totally going to come after him.  It’s what Kate does, she follows people around until they start to notice her and then she goes and follows somebody else.

Ha, she’s totally going to go after him.  And so is Jin?  Plot twist!

Kate, you couldn’t be convincing with a gun to your head.  I remember, because you tried to be convincing back in Season 3.  See, you just tried to be convincing again with the “Better not slow ME down” bit.  Didn’t work.

This is RETARDED!  I don’t give a damn WHO Kate’s with, just make her stay with one person, or nobody!  I’ve had enough of this everlasting Pong game.

The torturer gets tortured!  Irony.  And wait…branded?  Oh, I get it, they’re trying to make sure he’s not the smoke monster/Fake Locke, but…there’s definitely something wrong with Sayid.  That’s totally what I thought when he came back to life with sudden onset British accent syndrome, but then I thought it was just the actor sounding sleepy in his real accent.  So I guess that means Sayid is now in a Claire state, where he’s only mostly dead, and yet corporeal?

I like that The Others are mean to Kate.  Nobody’s really impressed with her anyway.  Also, whose trap is that then?  If Danielle has been dead for years?  And she was right about the whole infected thing all along?  Also, wouldn’t a better translation be…possessed?

Heh…Miles quizzing Sayid about the afterlife.  HA!  Are you a zombie?  They’re my favorite comedy duo.

AGAIN with the British accent seeping in!  He’s never been negligent about his accent on this show before…it’s gotta mean something.

Little did I know, in the end, nothing on the show really meant anything at all, and we were all idiots for overanalyzing everything for 6 years.  Yeah, clearly our fault.

Claire’s hair is not a great wig.  But I like that house her baby’s adoptive parents own.  Oh…I mean adoptive mother.  Oh god, the baby’s coming already?  Isn’t she like…a month early?  OMFG it’s Ethan.  So there’s no island,  it’s under the ocean…so there’s no Dharma babies named Ethan?  There’s only a doctor named Ethan in L.A.  How in the hell did he know the baby’s name was Aaron?  Are Kate and Claire about to become lesbian lovers or something?

I’ve never seen anyone use a baseball as a crystal ball before…

And now, just picture me sitting on a bed in the living room, alternately squealing with glee and shouting angrily at the TV.  Initially, I was really really pissed off about the finale.  To be honest, I don’t care so much that all these characters are happy and dead.  I mean, good for them, but that’s not why I watched the show.  In my opinion, LOST had some of the more annoying characters on TV…at least, TV that I watch, which does not include anyone named The Situation.  I just think it was a little spiteful that they didn’t at least reveal a FEW more answers.  I’m not asking for much, just, you know….

There was that whole time when the island was hopping around through time, and Sawyer and Co. were in some kayaks in a rainstorm and people started shooting at them.  Who was shooting at them?  They never answered that.  And honestly, it would have taken about 10 extra seconds to put somebody in a boat (which they already did about 10 times in the last 3 episodes), make a torrential downpour happen, and get them shooting at someone they can’t see.  Bonus points if it actually turned out to be Sawyer shooting at himself.  Which was a total possibility, but did they take it?  No.

But in the end, LOST was a very good show which made you actually use your brain.  I’m a fan of a few examples of both kinds of shows – the kind that make you use your brain, and the kind that allow you to sit there and let your brain dribble out of your ears – but I have far more respect for shows that try to make you think.  LOST did a very admirable job of it over the years. The best part of the whole experience, for me, was hashing out theories with fellow fans.  There isn’t a show on today that can get two strangers talking quite like Lost could.

So A for effort, LOST.  And bonus points for casting Allison Janney there at the end.

I was raised on Chicken McNuggets, Don Pablos, Taco Bell, and Fazoli’s.  The tastes of Olive Garden, On The Border, and Cracker Barrel are the most familiar tastes to me.

So you can imagine, it’s a real hardship for me to go a week without a restaurant meal, let alone a month.  To be more precise, 40 days.

But I suppose it’s even harder for my boyfriend, who has some kind of deep-seated addiction to restaurants.  It’s the ceremony of it all.  Somebody brings you your food and drinks, takes care of you, and all you have to do at the end is sign the check.  There is no cleanup, no doing the dishes.  No preparing the food in the first place.

So for the sake of our bank accounts, and waistlines, we’ve decided to forsake restaurants.  For Lent.

Now, neither of us is devoutly Catholic, I just want to make that clear.  But everybody else was giving things up, so I decided this would be a perfect opportunity to give it a shot.

So far we have made it two weeks.  Oh, the cooking.

I’ve made pasta with vodka sauce.  I’ve made turkey curry meatballs with oven fries.  Chicken Piccata.  Chicken Tikka Masala.  Indian lemon rice with Mahi Mahi.  Jambalaya.  Cajun chicken pasta.  Lots of broccoli.   My mom’s cabbage soup.  Gnocchi bolognese.    Those are just the ones I can remember.

It’s been an adventure.  But most of  all, I wanted to share the turkey curry meatball recipe.  It was delightful!  I am a big fan of ground turkey.  I think it will be making an encore appearance.

http://www.lifesambrosia.com/2010/03/curry-turkey-meatballs-recipe.html

And I will post updates as this project rolls along!

I suppose I should take this opportunity to talk about joblessness in this country and how it’s all going downhill, but…there’s hope for it yet.  Or at least that’s what the owner would like us to think.

So, I guess it’s definitely an opportunity to find a better job, and I have indeed been trying to get one at a local newspaper.  I’m still waiting to hear the results of that endeavor.

I suppose it’s one of those setbacks you experience when you’re young, right?

Right???

I’ve had a rough few months thus far.  I know 2010 is just starting, but I was sort of hoping it would become a less rocky year than 2009 was for me.  I sort of hoped I’d be able to settle into a routine of some kind.  Settle into a life.   I had started to do so, although obviously I was not happy with my job as a career.  I was making it work, I think.  At least enough to get by.  And now?

If the good job doesn’t pan out, do I try to find another serving job?  I wouldn’t say that I regret ever becoming a waitress, even for (hopefully) a short period of time.  Waiting tables has made me a better person.  I tip better.  I have more sympathy for others.  I’ve learned how to deal with awful coworkers and awful customers.  And although it was a close one there on Saturday, I’ve managed to do it without so much as one nervous breakdown about my job.

Other people might look down on it, and they certainly do.  But I definitely wouldn’t trade this experience.  Of course I would have rather had a cushy job lined up for me right out of college, but that wasn’t in the cards for me.  I’ve been used to some smooth sailing up until now, where one opportunity just kind of followed the other, and not necessarily because of connections my parents have or that I had.

So I guess it’s my karmic reward in a way.  I used to be horrible to waiters, I admit it.  I have definitely done my best to pay back that debt to society that I definitely owed.  So what now?

Even if I get this job at the newspaper, it will likely be filled with unsatisfied customers insulting me on a daily basis.  Which I guess counts as another karmic reward headed my way.

I’ve been thinking about school, and how campuses effectively shield everyone in them from the real world, while creating the illusion that they’re actually IN the real world.  Which, they are not.  I walked around Notre Dame yesterday (and saw only one person on Facebook on a Sunday, for crying out loud, and no beer cans or trash anywhere) and I realized what a bubble campuses truly are.

Now, there are exceptions.  Those campuses that are somewhat integrated into a city – NYU, for one – escape this clause.  But it really was a cushy and insular experience.  Sometimes I think about going back.  But what could I do, honestly?  Rack up more student loans just for a chance for a few more years in the comfort zone?  And then what would I do with a masters?  Keep being unemployed?  And what good college would accept me into their graduate program with a GPA like mine?

See, I was told that being productive and building your resume was more important than grades, especially in my field.  So that’s the advice I followed.  Obviously I had a natural inclination that way, since my grades were never stellar in the first place.

But it’s so funny how, in an easy and comfortable environment like mine growing up – with a few crazy exceptions, obviously – I was always thinking, “When am I going to catch a break?”  I focused on the few crazy exceptions to my easy life, and thought that translated into a hard one.

Now I realize that in fact, I caught a TON of breaks then.  And now I feel like if I’m struggling a bit, it’s because I deserve it, after having all those easy opportunities for so many years.

I guess in comparison with the people around me in high school, I did have a harder life than most, and perhaps that’s what made me think I was so downtrodden.  As I said, school is an incredibly insular experience.

So now I see people all around me, and I am quite fortunate.  There are people I know without a job of any kind.  I might join their ranks soon, but I still don’t have half the problems that they do.  I don’t have a kid, for one.  I don’t have relationship problems (knock on wood) for another.  And I don’t get twice-daily calls from bank collectors either.

I can buy groceries, and make good things with them.  I don’t have to be dependent on takeout and frozen food, because I can make things that taste better.  I have a wonderful car.  I have a wonderful mother, who has done her best to be supportive of me.

What I’m saying is, whether the restaurant closes or not, I find it interesting that I feel so lucky now, in comparison to before, when I actually had all the luck anyone could wish for.  I just couldn’t see it.  Or didn’t want to see it.

Maybe that’s why those who lived through the Depression have cherished their memories of that time.  They didn’t have much, but they learned and innovated new ways to use and save.  And they learned to share and be generous with what they did have.

I’ve never heard anyone who lived through that time say, “Oh, we were the poorest people in the world, we had it so bad.”  You know what they say?  ”We were lucky.  Other people were much worse off than we were.”

I grew up hearing that you’re supposed to eat cabbage on New Years Day.  I think just for luck, we didn’t have any religious connotation attached for once.

Although I am eleven days late, I am now sitting here enjoying a wonderful bowl of my mom’s cabbage soup…altered.

At its original level, this is still not your boring old fart-inducing cabbage soup.  It’s tomatoey and spicy.  Salty and flavorful.  Healthy, too!

My mom warned me not to alter this recipe.  But I had to!  You see, she makes a roast in the pressure cooker, and adds it and its broth to the soup.  I don’t have a pressure cooker!

She told me to cook the beef in my new crock pot instead, but to be honest I wanted to save the beef I bought for the beef stroganoff I plan to make later this week.

So, I just made it with beef broth.  You should really try this recipe.  It’s a keeper.

You need:
1 med. onion, sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/4 head cabbage
2 c. beef broth
1 can diced tomatoes
3 small cans tomato juice
1/3 c. hot salsa
2 tsp. crushed red peppers
1 can chick peas (supposed to be red beans, but I didn’t have any)
1/2 c. white wine, for deglazing
2 tbs. sugar
Salt and pepper to taste

Start by slicing the onion, then add it to some olive oil and cook until a little brown and soft.  Add minced garlic.  Add 1/2 c. white wine and scrape flavor off the bottom.

Add the chick peas (drained and rinsed) and the chopped cabbage.  The cabbage should be in about 1 inch squares. When the cabbage is just starting to wilt, add the canned tomatoes, salsa and tomato juice. Then add beef broth, salt, sugar, and pepper, and other seasonings.  Add hot sauce if it is not spicy enough for you.

Allow the soup to cook on low-med. until the cabbage is soft and translucent in the liquid.

And eat!  I served mine with baked potatoes and spicy sour cream sauce.  It’s not a terrible idea to add some sour cream to the soup, if you can’t take the heat.

Happy New Year to all.  Much luck!

First of all, I got a library card for the local library.  Which means, I can begin to check out cookbooks again.  And this library has about three times more cookbooks as my old library.

I was only allowed to check out two items at a time since my card is new, so I got “The Flexitarian Table” by Peter Berley and Paula Deen’s Kitchen Classics.

The Flexitarian book is really wonderful.  There are tons of somewhat healthy recipes, and about half of them have a meat option.  You can put the meat in if you want, but if you want to go strictly veggie, that’s tasty too.

The book was exactly what I was looking for as I perused the library shelves, looking for vegetable oriented cookbooks.  It was either strict vegetarian or vegan, and nothing more on the “I like meat, but I’m getting too fat” side – except of course for the diet food books, but I didn’t have time to look through them in great detail.

Luck was on my side when I picked this book off the shelf.  You know how some cookbooks are just kind of “meh?”  The Barefoot Contessa’s Paris book was kind of like that.  The recipes sound great, but then they are a lot of effort and require a lot of ingredients I don’t have, and don’t turn out that great after all is said and done.  And I know that the meh-ness of the final product is entirely due to my cooking skills, not the cookbook, but still.

I tried my first recipe from the Flexitarian’s Table today.  About half an hour ago, in fact.   Gratin of Cherry Tomatoes and White Beans/Sardines.

I give this one five stars.  It is light but satisfying, and immensely flavorful.  And the tomatoes are so nice and red and Christmassy.

Of course, I did not have sardines, so I adapted it a little.  I also used Pinto beans instead of the white beans in the recipe, because I forgot to pick up a can of white beans at the store this morning.

Here is my adaptation of the recipe:

3 c. cherry tomatoes, halved
1 med onion, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 c. dry white wine (Sauvignon Blanc for me)
1 (normal sized) can Pinto beans
1/4 c. shredded Parmesan
1/2 c. bread crumbs
Herbes de Provence, salt, pepper, thyme and red pepper flakes

Put a little olive oil in the bottom of your casserole dish or pie pan. (I used a pie pan.)

Start by sauteing the onions in a large skillet with a couple tablespoons of olive oil.  Cook until they soften and slightly brown, then add the chopped garlic, thyme and red pepper flakes.  Cook until the garlic is tender, then add the tomatoes and white wine.  Bring the mixture to a boil and allow it to simmer for a couple of minutes.  Then add your can of pinto beans and simmer these a little longer.  Add salt.

Mix together the bread crumbs, parmesan, Herbes de Provence, black pepper, and a few tablespoons olive oil in a small bowl.

Pour the tomato and wine mixture into the dish or pie pan you are using, and spread bread crumbs over the top.

Bake for 25 minutes at 350 degrees.

{end.}

I thought about adding a small can of tuna, but I was talked out of it.  ”Always follow ze recipe.”

Every time I cook now, I quote Ratatouille in my head.

My second discovery of the weekend is the Ciao Bella restaurant in Schererville.  It is brand new, and opened in the space formally occupied by Moe’s Southwest Grill.  Ciao Bella is a much better use of a restaurant.

I was expecting something a little more casual, but I was pleasantly surprised when we walked in and everything was sort of upscale.  We didn’t have a reservation, so they put us at this little table squeezed in between a mini waiter’s station and the coat rack, but I didn’t mind.  It was cozy.

Everything is a little on the pricey side, starting with the wine.  Their bottles run from about 22 to 75 dollars a bottle, so we each got a glass.  I got some kind of very expensive Barbera – one of the lighter red wines – that was worth every penny.  It was a little bit fizzy, without the smokey flavor of a chianti, but still very bold.  It was delicious.

I decided to get a house salad to start, which was very vinegary but very good.  Then I ate the gnocchi with Bolognese sauce.  My mouth has been watering thinking about this Bolognese sauce ever since I finished eating it.  I could eat it plain like some kind of soup.  I plan on making it later this week, but I was trying to analyze the possible ingredients there at the restaurant.  I’m pretty sure it contains ground beef, tomato sauce, cream, fresh basil, and bay leaf, but I’m not sure what else.  We shall see how it goes.

Since I started working in a restaurant, I have begun to notice different things when I go out to eat.  For one thing, there seemed to be too many waiters working.  It’s a pretty tiny restaurant, probably only about 10-20 tables in the place.  There’s no reason to have more than three waiters and two busboys, but  lot of people were kind of standing around talking.  There’s nothing wrong with the standing around and talking – if you’re at work and there’s nothing to do, you have to pass the time somehow.

I also liked to watch what I think is the owner pace around the restaurant to make sure everything was running smoothly.  He looked like an interesting person.  Perhaps the kind that might yell a few swear words in Italian in the kitchen, but for the most part a nice guy.

After dinner, the waiter managed to talk me into a lemon sorbet.  They had hazelnut gelato, and now I am sort of regretting my decision to go for the sorbet, but it was nice to have something light to clear out all the Bolognese.  Not that I needed to clear it out.  We topped the night off with an espresso.  It was my first time ever having a plain espresso in one of those tiny little cups.  I learned that it gets stronger if you let it sit there for too long.  Blech.

I really recommend this place if you’ve got a few extra bucks laying around.  And make no mistake, GET THE BOLOGNESE SAUCE.

My final discovery happened this morning.  Due to state law, we can’t buy alcohol on Sundays.  Living close to the Illinois border is a great convenience for me though, because I just have to drive five miles over the line and find a liquor store over there.

Last night, while driving around the Munster/Lansing area, I spotted an old-fashioned looking liquor store on Ridge Rd.  This morning, it being Sunday, I decided to go back and check it out.  I was almost out of white wine for cooking, so I figured I’d go in a pick up a cheap bottle.

It’s a good thing I’m already poor, otherwise I would have spent way too much in that store.  They have so many excellent wines and liquors, from every country.  Even the stuff you can’t find anywhere else.

For example, a few years ago my dad had a bottle of Boru vodka. I had never seen it since, but it is an excellent Irish-made vodka.  I find it interesting that you don’t see more Irish vodka.  It is made out of potatoes and all.  But I guess it’s just not part of Irish cultural heritage.  Maybe it should be, because Boru is a great vodka.  A little bit peppery, if memory serves.

Anyway, they had it there (at Santori’s).  I got a gigantic bottle for only 20 bucks.  That’s less than Smirnoff, and it’s a far better quality.

They also had Francis Coppola’s sparkling wine, Sofia, which I brought back from California with me last spring after my vacation.  They had all kinds of French wines that were apparently very exciting, but I’ve never heard of any of them.  They had little dessert wines.  They had all kinds of beers.  They had all kinds of liqueurs there as well, which I’ve never seen anywhere but specialty stores, or not at all.  And nothing seemed overpriced.  In fact, some of the same wines I’ve bought at the grocery store were cheaper in the liquor store, and as far as my experience goes, that’s not usually the case.

Anyway, I’d look up all of these things if I were you.  By all of these things, I mean The Flexitarian Table, Ciao Bella Ristorante, and Santori’s liquor store in Lansing, IL.

Let’s start with last night and work backwards, shall we?

Last night’s main course was chicken in tarragon cream sauce.  Let’s examine the recipe!

• 6 boneless chicken breast halves
• salt and pepper
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup butter
• 1 tablespoon finely chopped onion
• 1/4 cup dry white wine
• 1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon
• 1/4 cup chicken broth
• 1/4 cup heavy cream

Sprinkle chicken breast halves with salt and pepper; dredge with flour. Set aside remaining flour.

In a large skillet, heat 3 tablespoons of butter over medium heat. Brown chicken on both sides, Remove chicken; keep warm. Add onion to skillet and sauté for 1 minute.

Add wine to skillet; increase heat to high and cook until liquid is almost evaporated, stirring to loosen browned bits on bottom of skillet.

Reduce heat to medium-low; add reserved flour, stirring to a thick paste. Add tarragon and chicken broth. Return chicken to skillet; cover and cook until tender, about 20 to 25 minutes. Remove chicken breasts to a hot platter. Add remaining butter and heavy cream to the skillet. Heat through; pour creamy tarragon sauce over chicken breasts.

In my opinion, the chicken was fried perfectly, but the tarragon cream sauce tasted a bit too much like gravy.  Perhaps omitting the chicken broth in favor of white wine (or water) might tone down the gravy-ness.

Also, I used a lot more tarragon than the recipe called for, and I still couldn’t taste it over the gravy.  So, I say it’s a 3 star recipe – not great when followed, but certainly redeemable.

On the side, we had Pioneer Woman’s baked lemon pasta.

This didn’t turn out quite so well.  I think I didn’t have enough sour cream or something, but it definitely made it all sticky and unmanageable.  I prefer my lemon pasta.

My lemon pasta recipe:

3-4 tbs. lemon juice

1 large clove garlic

2 tbs. butter

2 tbs. flour

1/4 c. white wine

1 tsp. thyme (optional)

Salt and pepper to taste

Mince the garlic.  Melt the butter in the skillet over med-high.  Add garlic to the butter, saute for 3-5 minutes.  Add flour, mix together to make a paste.  Then add your lemon, wine, salt, pepper and thyme if you’re using.  Mix well.  Allow it to simmer and thicken for another 3-5 minutes.  Then mix with cooked, drained pasta of your choice.

You know what else this is great with?  Broccoli.  I actually created the sauce as a topping for broccoli, and ended up having extra, so I started using it on pasta.  And wouldn’t you know it, it was so tasty and easy to make that I started making it just for the pasta, nearly every day.

Now then, for Sunday night’s dinner.

Sunday night, we had Herb Rubbed Chicken with Creamy Orzo.  It was between this and Steak n’ Shake, and my vote went to the orzo.

And oh, mamma mia this was the right choice.  Overwhelmingly good.

Although I say the chicken could have been cooked a lot better.  And it might have been better were it not so fatty.

Herb-Rubbed Grilled Chicken with Creamy Orzo
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Ingredients:
8 oz. orzo pasta, uncooked
2 chicken breasts, butterflied into halves (4 pieces total)
Salt and pepper
2 tsp. Herbes de Provence
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 shallot, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (14.5 oz) can diced tomatoes, with juices
2 cups broccoli florets
½ cup heavy cream
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Directions:
Bring a saucepan of salted water to boil.  Add the orzo and cook until tender but still firm to the bite, about 10 minutes.  Drain the pasta, reserving ½ cup of the pasta water.

Season both sides of the chicken breast halves with salt and pepper.  Sprinkle evenly with the Herbes de Provence.  Heat the olive oil in a 12- or 14-inch skillet over medium-high heat.  Add the chicken breast halves to the pan and cook about 3 minutes per side, until golden brown.  Reduce the heat to medium, add the shallot to the pan and sauté 2-3 minutes.  Add the garlic and sauté an additional minute, until fragrant.  Add the diced tomatoes with juices and the broccoli florets to the pan, scraping the bottom of the pan to remove any browned bits.  Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to simmer over medium-low.  Cover and let cook until the broccoli florets are crisp-tender, about 10 minutes.  Stir in the cooked orzo, heavy cream and Parmesan cheese.  Mix until well blended and the cheese has melted.   If necessary, add some of the reserved pasta water to smooth out the sauce.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Serve immediately.

I made it without the broccoli.  I would prefer to eat my broccoli with my lemon sauce, thank you very much.

But the orzo was delicious.  I think I have a new favorite pasta.  It’s like rice, only it doesn’t make your stomach hurt when you eat too much and it expands.

And lastly, on Friday I made two types of desserts.  One was the World Peace cookies.  I HAVE to adapt these into a stable recipe, because when I get them right, they are perfect.  If I don’t get them right, they are less so.

And I also made this cake.  This peanut butter chocolate cake. (Trust me, click on this link.)

It was so very rich.  I think I could have added more peanut butter to the icing.  But it was good.  And appreciated by all.  Unless everyone was lying to me, but I don’t think they were.

Saturday I didn’t do any cooking.  I played hooky (hookie?) from work, and we went to Chicago instead.  But I will blog about the more wonderful aspects of Chicago food in another post.  But for now, I’m going to go do something else.  Because it’s 6:45 in the morning and I’m already hungry.

I know people have it worse, but I’m a wimp, okay?  So now I’m exhausted.

Since I’m exhausted, I really didn’t want to put in the effort it takes to, you know, stand over a pot and stir it from time to time.  Then I remembered this recipe, which has been sitting in my “Starred Items” in Google Reader for a very long time.

It involves very little prep work and no stirring.  Just an oven.  And some orange juice.

Via Sassy Radish (a wonderful food blog), here it is.

Roast Chicken with Pears, Shallots and Leeks

6 chicken drumsticks and/or thighs
1 pear, thinly sliced
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 leek, thinly sliced (the white part only – discard the top green, stringy part)
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup orange juice, and perhaps more to coat the bottom of the pan if not enough
¼ cup olive oil
1 tsp salt
¼ tsp freshly ground pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

Wash and pat dry the chicken parts and place in a 9×11″ glass baking dish. Surround the chicken with the pear, shallots, leek and garlic. Pour orange juice and olive oil over it and season with salt and pepper.

After 20 minutes, turn the drumsticks over onto the other side and return to the oven for another 20-25 minutes. Remove from the oven and let stand 10 minutes before serving.

It’s the orange juice that was really intriguing to me!

It’s baking as I write this, so I’ve yet to find out how it turns out.  I think it should be interesting though, as it smells very strongly of onions.  The smell is sticking to the back of my throat right now.

As I was chopping the leeks, I could hear my neighbor downstairs listening to Fall Out Boy.  If I’m not mistaken, he drives a silver Dodge Charger, doesn’t know how to park or doesn’t care, and tries to be as much of a hardass as possible.  He also loses his shit yelling and screaming every time there’s a Bears game on.  And sometimes at 8 in the morning when there is no Bears game.

Doesn’t really influence my leek chopping, but I thought it was funny.  This big bad frat boy is jamming to Fall Out Boy.  At least 4 different songs.

So, now I have eaten the chicken.  It was good!  Although, it would have been better if I had *followed the recipe* but as usual, I didn’t.  I made it with chicken breasts instead of chicken thighs.  I think the skin definitely would have added something essential…namely some moisture.  But it all had really good flavor.  The only thing I might suggest is that you add a little more salt than instructed, because it wasn’t as salty as I would have liked.  I’m also kind of wondering if the dish wouldn’t have benefitted from a little bit of apple cider vinegar with the orange juice, but I was a little afraid to try it so I decided not to.

Always follow zee recipe!  (Sorry, I’ve been watching Ratatouille way too many times recently.  And I hardly ever follow that advice.)

I followed the chicken with some poached pears.  Just some red wine, water, a handful of sugar, and some cinnamon and nutmeg.  Then I simmered the pear slices in the mixture until they were nice and soft.  I recommend adding some ginger for flavor, as well as a little more sugar after they’re done cooking – you could just pour it on top.  Jean (boyfriend) says they’re wonderful with melted chocolate on top.  I decided I was too lazy to drag out the double boiler.

Anyway, it was a pretty good meal, all things considered.  And it allowed me to sit on my ass for most of the cooking time.

I wasn’t a particularly interesting kid.  I did what everybody wanted me to do.  I tried not to do anything that would upset anybody.  I ate easy mac and pizza rolls.  I read.  I didn’t talk much to people my own age.  I only knew how to cook things that involved a paper plate and a microwave.

I went to college.  I learned different ways of thinking.  I learned how to interact with people a little better.  I still ate macaroni and cheese and pizza rolls, but I expanded a little to include spaghetti and hot sauce.  Lots of hot sauce.  I didn’t like parties much.  I made a few really great friends.  But not a lot.  I was still shy.

As I went along, I learned how to be a little more independent.  I still tried not to do anything that would upset anyone.  I began to watch tv shows a little more than I read.  I learned how to make spaghetti just a little better.

I learned to make pies.  I learned to start examining why I did things as I made the pies.  I learned to be just a little more responsible.

I learned to make casseroles.  I learned how to make chili.  I learned to like Oliver wine.  I experienced that sometimes, there’s just nothing you can do to make everybody happy at the same time if they’re determined to make themselves miserable.  But I didn’t really grasp it yet.

I fell in love.  I learned to like red wine.  I became part of one of those really obnoxious couples that can’t leave each other alone.  I learned to make risotto.

I decided that sometimes you just have to cut the crazy out of your life, even if it makes people not like you.  I started getting cookbooks from the library and copying recipes onto my computer.  Julia Child recipes.  Potato and Leek soup.  World Peace cookies.  Coq au Vin.

Little by little, I morphed into somewhat of an adult.  I don’t eat pizza rolls anymore.  I don’t smother everything in hot sauce anymore either.

I’m far from the end.  But a few weeks ago, I think I went through the crossroads in the middle.  Everything I learned up to that point about being independent had led to that moment.  All the stuff about cutting the crazy out of your life, and making sure you aren’t just a doormat kind of came together.

So now, I feel like I really am on my way to becoming a fully fledged adult.  And that’s why I started this new blog.

I’m sorry for being so existential on my first post.  Nobody wants to read this crap.  But I felt like it was important, for me anyway, to start a new blog.  It’s part of this whole “cutting out the crazy” thing that I’m trying.

I was working on a project on the old blog.  I can’t say I won’t finish it, but right now isn’t the time.  I still want to write about things though, which makes me want to have this kind of outlet.  Especially about food.

I’m not going to write incredibly thoughtful posts all the time.  Mostly, I’m going to write about food.

But I feel like my journey from pizza rolls to coq au vin closely parallels my journey from being a kid to what I am now.  I am not a perfect cook, and I am not a fully-formed adult either.  I screw up my food all the time, just like I screw up in my life.  But I continue to work on it.

So, I’m starting over.  At least, with my blog.  I’m not starting with the pizza rolls again.