tuppershare

A love letter to chocolate cookies & KitchenAid.

Hmm?

What’s that?

Oh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t hear you over the dazzling beauty of my KitchenAid mixer. It’s red, people. RED!

I’m a bit in love with this stunning ~~little~~ deceptively heavy baby, which, I’m embarrassed to admit, was procured from a former neighbor looking to get the thing off her hands for a fraction of its market price at least two months ago, and I only broke it out for the first time yesterday.

To be fair, I rarely bake. I think the last time I baked was…Christmastime. When I made…these exact same cocoa thumbprints.

Doing the whole “healthy” thing.

I’m usually very, very bad at maintaining a healthy diet. Sure, I eat my fruits and vegetables, but when you realize that, at 25, your favorite foods are French fries, cheese and bacon… well…

It’s time to start exploring some better-for-you options.

I bought a bag of quinoa a couple of months ago, with the intent of making these quinoa burgers, but I ended up making, y’know, penne with vodka sauce, and ribs, and chicken fried steak, and going out for sushi with our friends John & Mel, and ordering Chinese food…

So the quinoa sat in the cupboard.

And sat.

Until yesterday, when I said, I’M MAKING SOMETHING DIFFERENT.

the one with all the clams.

So, I have a funny story for you guys. And not funny like, “ha ha, Lauren, you’re such a comedian.” More like, “ha ha, that would happen to you!”

I decided I wanted to make some steamed clams for dinner tonight. Because, y’know, they’re delicious and good warm-weather food. So I bought two dozen clams from ShopRite on my way home, because ShopRite has never done me wrong with fish. Or anything, really, but this story is specifically about mollusks.

So I get home, clean them off, and throw a bunch of ‘em in the pot with the wine and the butter and all that good stuff, and wait 10 minutes and….!

Nothing. Well, one cracked open a teensy bit. The rest were…well, clammed up.

I think, okay. I throw another six or so in the pot, wait a bit, and…!

Nope. These guys aren’t opening up, either. So I think, awesome, I just bought two dozen bad clams. HOORAY. So whatever, no matter. There’s a seafood place down the block from my apartment! So I traipse down there, buy two dozen littlenecks. I get home, open the lid of the pot…

for those about to grill…

…I sa-lute you. Seriously. Not only have we been fortunate enough to have a mild winter here in Jersey, spring is HERE. While part of me wants to call Al Gore and make sure that this is not actually a sign of our imminent demise by greenhouse gases, part of me is just really happy that sludgy-grey snow hasn’t been lingering on the fringes of the highways for eight weeks.

So, I mean, if someone wanted to break out their grill today, I’d understand. Or at least, think they aren’t crazy. I’d classify my vow that ~~when I get my own place~~ with an actual yard and ample milling about space, I want to host a huge potluck Thanksgiving dinner where I will deep-fry a turkey. Y’know, outdoors.

But back to grilling. I don’t have a grill. Yet. Nor do I have adequate grilling space, though I assure you, I have every intent of getting my hands on a little charcoal-burnin’ baby and making do with what space I’ve got. But for now, an oven has to suffice, so I can make these tried-and-true ribs.

“I wish you made, like, a gallon of this.”

Thanks, love.

All last week I was craving the simplest of meals: cream of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. Somehow, this staple meal has absolutely no place in my memory. Well, my dad used to make me grilled cheese all the time, but for some reason, at the age of six, after battling random bouts of croup, bronchitis and a chronic cough rivaling that of pack-a-day Marlboro smokers, I tested positive for a tomato allergy.

Which is weird, because I had been scarfing down pizza and meat sauces and all sorts of tomato-laden dishes, and never even came close to hitting anaphylaxis. But whatever. I just had to be the difficult kid at slumber parties who could only have white pizza. I later graduated to being the difficult kid at slumber parties who had to sleep on the couch because of her backbrace. Kidding. I didn’t GO to slumber parties when I wore a backbrace!

God, this is getting depressing.

Anyway, it’s been 12 years since I donned that supremely ugly plastic torture device-cumbersome corset, and even longer since I decided I really wasn’t allergic to tomatoes, thankyouverymuch, and I’ve developed quite the affinity for a good bowl of cream of tomato soup.

fish cakes!… or, topping off a productive weekend.

I’m generally a pretty unproductive person on the weekends. I tend get out of bed around the same time as most undergrads, and either watch Netflix or play Minecraft, like, all day. Maybe I’ll do some (extremely) minor cleaning, and if I’m feeling really ambitious, I’ll drive to my parents’ house to do laundry and play with puppies.

But this weekend I was an adult! I did some hardcore cleaning (like, scrubbing and mopping and actually moving things out of a room so I could thoroughly vacuum it), went to Home Depot and started painting our bedroom.

Oh, and celebrated three years worth of love and smooches with my handsome manpiece by drinking too many martinis and eating yak. Yeah, I ate a yak. AND python. He ate some kangaroo. We’ve also sampled antelope, elk, buffalo and rattlesnake. Our palates are trés sophistiqué.

The same, however, cannot be said for our senses of humor, as all it takes to make either of us laugh is the word “duty.”

And now I’m topping off my responsible weekend by making a meal. And blogging about it! Aren’t you lucky?

Anyway, this recipe for fish cakes comes from a year-old issue of Real Simple, which might be my favorite magazine in existence. I love the range of content, I love the design, I love all the clever little ideas, from how to save money on iced coffee to how to create the perfect wardrobe for you.

They also have some great recipes, and every issue has a “10 ideas for…” piece that focuses on one food, and gives you a bunch of different recipes for it. This particular issue focused on tilapia. And I really wanted to try the fish cakes. But, y’know, without using tilapia. Because I didn’t have any.

An impromptu dinner party.

I hadn’t planned on feeding six people on a Thursday night, though I did invite pretty much everyone who could see my Facebook page over for penne with vodka sauce and garlic bread. Not only because I happen to like my friends. And cooking. And feeding people. But I was supposed to make dinner for my sister, who is in Jersey with her two awesome dogs until May, while her husband finishes up his combat training in Texas. But she had to cancel, so I had lots of pasta and bread and a hunk of pancetta roughly the size of my head, and there was no way I was letting any of that go to waste, or even go uneaten. I had gotten myself psyched up. I was going to make this dinner, even if I had no one to share it with but my cat.

But, I invited over my former roommate, and Colin came home with three of our friends in tow, so pasta for two or three quickly became pasta for six. (I was so glad I’d grabbed extra cans of tomato sauce on my last trip to the grocery store.)

And while normally, sitcoms and movies would have you believe that last-minute dinner parties are enough to turn you into this — or this — I was totally in my element, and happy to spend the night with a group of awesome people.

Happy, smashy food.

I’m not sure if it’s “Magic” by B.o.B and Rivers Cuomo or the wrap that’s making me smile right now. I’m going to go ahead and say both, because I love Rivers…but between you and me, it’s the wrap.

Well, I use the term “wrap” loosely because my sense of spatial relationships is godawful and my wraps usually turn into a weird, giant-taco-ish thing. But you know what? I’m not complaining. Neither is my mom’s dog, Jake, who just jumped up on my lap, feigning malaise, to try and sneak a lick of deliciousness. Sorry, bud. Being super adorable will only get you so far.

I had this wrap in the cafeteria at work one day (we are incredibly spoiled at my office when it comes to food), probably wayyy back in the beginning of my employment, because I made it probably 10892 in my parents’ kitchen. I hadn’t recreated it in awhile (and neither had the kitchen staff - grrr!), and I realized as I sat at my laptop, looking at decorating ideas on Pinterest (thanks for giving me a new obsession, Mom), that it was 9 p.m. and I still hadn’t eaten dinner. That’s what’ll happen when your boyfriend who usually reminds you to eat (usually by quasi-growling “I’M HUNRGRAYYYY.” I love him.) is out for the night. You almost starve.

Until a light bulb comes on … tortillas? Avocado? Bacon? Chicken? LET’S DO DIS. LIKE BUDDHISTS. Or not. Do Buddhists eat bacon?

“It should be pork-tatoes.” - Colin

So I went to the grocery store yesterday and bought a lot of healthy food. Like, green beans, strawberries, apples, starfruit, arugula, black beans, avocados, quinoa (I seriously can’t wait to be trendy and make quinoa everything)… and not one bag of potato chips!

I know, I’m shocked too.

So you’d think I’d be making something healthy tonight. Like quinoa burgers. Or grilled fish tacos with a black bean/fruit salad and avocado remoulade. Or steamed arugula with garlic and grape tomatoes.

Which are on the agenda. Pinky swear.

But tonight? Pork chops.

And roasted potatoes.

Sorry, waistline. My craptastic cold and ever-growing disdain for the cold (apparently winter is deciding to be winter this week) takes precedence over maintaining my girlish figure. Seriously. I have cold cream slathered under my nose because tissues are wreaking havoc on my skin. To quote the great Anthony Bourdain’s Twitter, I will find solace in pork.

BRING ON THE PORK. AND POTATOES.

…y’know what, at least it isn’t homemade baked mac and cheese with bacon in it. Which I totally made, like, a couple of months ago. Wrote out the recipe, took pictures and everything. Which means I meant to write about it. And didn’t. Probably because that was when I was working 70+ hours a week and often had to choose between sleeping and showering. I’m not gonna lie…I chose sleeping more than once. Like, more than five times, probably.

appetizer & dessert.

I continued my trend of making dinner for my wonderful dad on Father’s Day this year. The man went and got Netflix and a Nook, so I can no longer use my impeccable judgment of books/movies/DVD collections I know he’d like when selecting gifts. I tell you, the man is IMPOSSIBLE. Just kidding. He rocks.

He gave me a menu of what he wanted for his Sunday dinner, and while I’m pretty sure each and every aspect of it was a smashing success, I will only share with you the recipes for the soup and the dessert. Mainly because, good God, you’ve seen ENOUGH potato dishes on here (though my garlic mashed potatoes had the perfect consistency, I must say) and steamed green beans are really not blog post-worthy. (Rinse beans. Trim ends. Put beans in pot with water. Steam till bright green. Toss with butter/salt/lemon juice/garlic/whatever. Serve.) See? You got the green beans recipe out of me.