To Thine Own Self, Be Food

It's either she's in a skillet...or I'm going to hit her over the head with one. I live in the Midwest, and we are in the middle of a cold spell.  Another one.  I don't care what the Weather Channel calls it: polar vortex, deep freeze, or Arctic blast...it's effing cold.  It's gray, it's icy, it's dirty, it's depressing.  And it's cold. So, time to practice a little kitchen witchery, yes? I mean, I can't make a greener, more practical, more fitting offering up to Mother Nature.  Greens (here, kale) and eggs.  Both harbingers of spring and fertility!  The only thing I could have added was a rabbit. But, that's another topic for another post. Anyway, I found the idea for this dish at cleaneatingmag.com.  Naturally, I tweaked it and made some changes...but the sriracha hollandaise is my idea (although, not original, probably). This dish starts off easy enough...1 onion, sliced, sauteéd until soft; 8 oz. box of mushrooms of y

Okay, so you know those silly quizzes, "What Decade Is YOU?" like the ones you find... here? or here? or here? I love those things.  I was born in the 70s, did my first round of informative learning in the 80s, did my second round of informative learning in the 90s, got all "grown up" and shit in the new millenium, and am reinventing myself here in the twentyteens. All decades are good decades to be alive, I guess. Though I was born long after the decade ended, I feel a certain affinity with the Fifties (based on the quiz results from the first link). It was the best of times: prosperity, peace, strings of pearls, neighborhood barbecues, and shirtwaist dresses! But, it was also the worst of times: processed food, lax government regulations in the area of food and food production, and paranoid anti-Communists. None of that today, though.  I spent today in the manner of all the impeccably dressed and mannered June Cleavers before me: preparing an

It sounds counterintuitive, doesn't it?  Greasy foods seems to be the least appealing of all when one is suffering from a hangover. But, then again, maybe it depends on the severity of hangover, yes?  When the hangover is so bad that the sufferer spends two days with his/her head in the toilet, *nothing* edible sounds good at all.  The mention of bacon and potatoes and such is enough to send him/her crawling for the nearest retch-spot. However, for mild hangovers, the ones symptomized by a slight quease in the stomach or a headache...grease is just the thing. Here's the hypothetical illustration that proves my point. Some friends that I happen to know got together last night for dinner and drinks...as a sendoff to another friend of theirs, who will be leaving soon for Spain for six weeks.  And you, dear readers, know how these little soirees go.  Someone gets out of the tequila, and pretty soon, everyone's drinking beer, or wine, or amaretto...or whatever. Luckily

Cue late 60s music... Love the one you're with. This was the result of my 12-hour day yesterday.  A Valentine's Wine Dinner at the Winery.  There was a lot of love going around last night.    Mixed green, cranberry, pecan, and blue cheese salad to start Entree: Beef shoulder tenders, mushroom risotto, and seasoned green beans And for afters: Vanilla Bean Bread Pudding (my special caramel sauce) with Chocolate Drizzle Have a good Saturday, readers.

So, my culinary school career is drawing to a close.  Things are winding down. Today was the last day of my Catering & Banqueting class, and yesterday I wrapped up Culinary Management. Today was a field trip.  The term doesn't technically end until next week, but since we've taken all our tests, completed all our projects, and reviewed all our work...there's not much left to do.  So, our instructor basically cancelled classes for next week.  That means with the exception of a Marketing final on Monday, I'm done with my sixth term. That leaves the 7th and final term.  I'm enrolled in three classes: a Culinary Internship, Entrepreneurship, and Culinary Industry.  The last two are six-week classes, and I will take them the first six weeks of the term...I'll be done with them by April 1st. Then, I leave for an internship.  The program requires six weeks, but most of the internships are longer than that. On April 20, I will leave my home and begin my

As presented to you by me, author of the blog "To Thine Own Self, Be Food." Herein lies the truth, and hopefully it will set me (and you, maybe) free. I joined Pinterest several months ago because it seemed like the vogue, trendy thing to do.  I didn't pin very much, mostly because I was intimidated.  Pictures everywhere of gorgeous dishes, cleverly plated entreés, and cuteasallgetout desserts.  Obviously, the message was this: cooking and baking alone is not enough...to be successful here at Pinterest, you must also be a decent food stylist and photographer. And the message was received.  My boards have been neglected for some time.  But it's okay, because I still have you beautiful people, my dear readers. I'll admit, though, it's difficult to read other food blogs.  Not only do they make amazing food and have clever ideas, but the final product manages to look perfect, in just the right light, on just the right shape of plate. If any of you are li

About three weeks ago, The Kirbster went on a church retreat with a friend.  She came back with what she said was the most amazing guacamole recipe...ever.  That's a mighty big claim, but after today, when she actually made it for us...she just might be right. At the retreat, the speaker who demonstrated the dip included a lot of spiritual metaphorical explanation for each of the ingredients; the official title of the condiment/lesson is "Life Is Like Guacamole". I won't go into all that here (I mean, really, if you're religiously savvy enough, you'll figure out what ingredient represents in regards to a relationship with God). But here's what I know...or least deeply suspect...if the poorhouse worker boys in the opening sequence to Oliver! the musical would have had this guacamole to eat instead of that damned gruel, Mr. Bumble and the governors would be dead, and London would have been powered by the pure manual force of this one workhouse alone . 

Saturday.  Three things. 1. I received a recipe in my Inbox this morning for Red Velvet Beet Cake from Food & Wine.  Um.  Yes!  Soon. 2. Since last updating my pantry/freezer/fridge inventories last weekend, I have been harangued by those bags of almond and coconut flours in my freezer.  It's time I did something with them...or die trying.  I hope to attempt (and document for you, readers) my adventures in macaroon-making.  Hopefully tomorrow. 3. But, right now, let's talk about my state's capital city.  Des Moines.  I know when you think of Des Moines, you do not think about the apex, the epitome, the embodiment of foodie sophistication.  To be honest, I don't think of DM like that, either...but an East wind is blowing, friends, and things are changing.  For example, take this place right here, Fong's Pizza .  Eclectic, friendly, funky, this restaurant in downtown DM *is* the word fusion.  Asian and Italian cuisines.  Crab Rangoon pizza, Beef and Brocc

PETA is probably going to have a cow (no harm to the cow, of course) after reading this post. Let that be your warning, readers. Rabbits are nice.  We associate them with Easter, springtime, cuteness, sex, and of course, Bugs Bunny. My experience with them today was, well...a little different. First of all, my rabbit was dead.  Not only that, but it came in a cellophane-wrapped, cool-storage-friendly package.  In about seven parts. Our chef-instructor told us yesterday to mentally prepare ourselves for what he called a Market Basket Activity.  Sort of like Iron Chef or Chopped, or all those other shows on Food Network I never watch.  He would give us some kind of protein, and we would have two hours to create a plated entreé. What fun, yes?! And so the assignments of meats began.  Two of my friends were assigned duck.  Another got tilapia.  Another was given pork belly.  Ground beef, tuna, catfish, pork tenderloin, etc., etc.  And finally, my teacher called my name.  My

+  = My kind of Super Bowl It's Super Bowl Sunday, readers.  Which really means nothing to me, honestly.  I have no vested interest, I have no favorites, I have no great love of the game. But what I do have, dear readers, are two phenomenal food-and-wine pairings for you today. The Vertikal Riesling with the Spicy Garlic Shrimp.  The Vertikal is fine for drinking by itself (which means, on the sweet side), but it really gains a new life when drank with the spicy, garlicky, srirachy flavors of the shrimp. The Vertikal is a bit nebulous.  The label indicates the wine was made in the Mosel river region in Germany, which is a very good thing.  But, it's imported to the States by an American wine company...and it's not out of the question for a conversation between American importers and German winemakers to go like this: Am: Hey, there, German wine people.  We've got a great way to sell your wine here in the States. Germ: Oh yeah, how&#

It's one of those rare Saturdays here at Be Food ...one without much of an agenda, obligations, or constraints of any kind.  With the exception of doing the weekly groceries and a birthday party to run the youngest child to later today, there's nothing I really *must* do today. How then does one spend such a leisurely Saturday? There's always something to do, right?  And if you're like me, what you decide to do with free time comes down to two categories: What You Should Do and What You Want To Do. For example, after I finish today's blog post?  I *should* exercise.  But, I *want* to take a nap.  Or, I *should* finish up a project for my Culinary Management class.  But, I *want* to take a nap.  Or, I *should* make and freeze a big batch of spaghetti sauce.  But, I *want* to take a nap. You're feeling me, right?  You see where I'm coming from? In the end, I suspect the nap will win out.  It's cold outside, it snowed last night, and the sky has t