It’s Thanksgiving week. Which is the culmination of autumn. And for me, the power of autumn lies not in the bullshit power of pumpkin (let’s be honest, half-a-dozen other squashes will kick pumpkin right in the gourds — uhh, hello? Butternut? Acorn? Kabocha? Motherfucking delicata?), but rather, in the power of apples. My son, he loves applesauce. He would stab me to get to the applesauce that I made — foolishly, of course, since I’m the dude actually making that applesauce. He kills me? No more applesauce, kid. But he... Read The Rest →
My risotto brings all the boys to the yard. I don’t know what they do when they get there. I guess they probably beat me up and take my risotto. Which is a really sad and violent end to this whole affair, but that’s just how my risotto is. It’s that good. How can you not love food that invites tragedy? Anyway. It’s autumn, which for me is the Time of Risotto. I don’t know why. Risotto is comforting. I like to make a pillow out of it and just rest... Read The Rest →
In a roasting pan, deposit the following: one sweet onion, chopped into maybe eight pieces. One small carrot, skinned like a rare African monkey, chopped into four or five rough pieces. Two bell peppers -- one red and one yellow if you like the color. Sometimes, though, I use smaller sweet peppers if they're available.
Pho, as you may know, is a very popular Vietnamese noodle soup. It's popular because it's fucking awesome and will blow your face open with comfort and deliciousness. True, one would not normally associate "face blown open" with "comfort," but hey, life is some complex shit. You're just going to have to make peace with your gods on this one.
The reason I wanted to procure a waffle-maker is that my pancakes never turn out right. I've made pancakes for years. Years. I've tried dozens of recipes -- and, let's be frank, it's not like you have that many varieties of pancake recipe out there. It's not like you find that one special recipe where you're suddenly all, "OH MY GOD, this recipe uses seal blubber and oregano!"
Take one butternut squash. They're ugly, I know. They look like the decapitated -- and also featureless -- head of Charlie Brown's dog, Snoopy. Did I need to say that first part? "Charlie Brown's dog?" You already know who Snoopy is, don't you? You presumably haven't been living under a lichen-encrusted rock somewhere.