Yearly Archives: 2015

An Open Letter: Dear Awkward Delivery Guy

via TheImpersonals

via TheImpersonals

Dear Delivery Guy,

Well, this is awkward.

You’re here again at my home. I’m not wearing a bra and I’m paying you for intimate services rendered: the delivery of my dinner.

But the worst part is that you made it really awkward. And that’s saying something because I’m usually the one to make a situation awkward.

When you came here with your Thai food delivery, you handed it to me and said, “oh, you again.” Well, shit. Yes, I just got your restaurant’s delivery a few nights ago. But I was craving it again. So I ordered it again.

Is this because you gave me a free cream soda the other day? I told you that I didn’t order it. Because who orders cream soda? And what self-respecting restaurant has it in stock?

I suppose I should use my words. When you say “oh, you again,” it made me feel like you were judging me, Delivery Guy. Because I’m pretty sure you were.

I cook a lot of nights, but last night just I didn’t feel like it last night. I felt tired. I just wanted someone to bring me dinner. But wait a minute, I don’t owe you anything. Except the money for the food, of course. And a tip.

So, here’s a tip. Keep your opinions to yourself. In the world of food service-as-sex, delivery is basically an escort service. So, a little discretion would be most appreciated.

Now, you get out of here. I’m going to let to slip into something a little more comfortable and get a little spicy with this pad thai.

Sincerely,

Bethany

 

Sidenote: I found this image of the Thai Food delivery guy on a website called The Impersonals. It was on a letter called Dear Thai Food Delivery Guy Who Recognized Me At The Airport: Please Don’t. Please read it, it made me laugh right out loud. I’m so glad to see that in these ever-changing times, some things will always be the same: we never want to talk to the Delivery Guy. Some social codes are not meant to be broken.

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Breaktheist: Yogurt Taste Test

I’m a breaktheist.

I don’t believe in any one breakfast. I do believe that breakfast exists, though. Perhaps I am breaknogstic.

Yeah…that doesn’t sound as good.

I’ve been on a real yogurt kick lately. This was after a serious granola kick, an avocado toast kick, and a granola bar kick. You’d think I was a Rockette. #dadjoke

But what yogurt to eat? There are so many choices. So, when I was at the Fresh Market last week and decided to buy 5 yogurt brands that I’ve never tried before and test them out for you.

YOU’RE WELCOME.

(One time, I said something silly to a friend and then said, “you’re welcome.” And his reply was “I did not say thank you.” Couldn’t be mad at it.)

I tried some yogurt so you didn’t have to. Say your prayers, people, and forgive me. My stream of consciousness is below.

It was really hard to keep the yogurts from rolling away. #realtalk

It was really hard to keep the yogurts from rolling away during this picture.

OhMyYog! with Gingered Pear

  • Well, “OhMyYog!” is not a thing that people say.
  • Rich and creamy. Has a unique flavor. Better than the basic fruit in your ushe yogurt.
  • 3 layers? I really can’t tell. Just seems like two.
  • This reminds me of the old fruit on the bottom Breyers yogurt but better.
  • Try again? Yeah, I’d try it again. But I shan’t ever say “OhMyYog!”
Seriously, no one says that.

Seriously, no one says that.

So Delicious Dairy Free Yogurt in Vanilla

  • Not at all appealing visually.
  • “Try the gray stuff, it’s delicious. Don’t believe me? Ask the dishes!”
  • Super sweet, with a weird after taste. Nope. Can’t eat this. Nope.
  • Abandoned yogurt-ship after 4 bites. Went to a delicious, delicious Noosa I had in the fridge.
  • Try again? Never say never. But never.
What. Is. This.

What. Is. This.

Blue Hill in Butternut Squash

  • Saw this yogurt on Ana Gasteyer’s Instagram. We’re basically best friends.
  • It smells sort of like Thanksgiving. I’m sort of excited. Sort of scared. I feel like Jessie Spano.
  • It tastes good. A bit tart in the finish. It walks the line between sweet and savory.
  • It’s kind of weird. I sort of gagged on the first spoonful, thus bringing to life the phrase “gag me with a spoon.” It’s so weird to have butternut squash in this super creamy, dairy vehicle. But, it kind of tasted good. I’m conflicted.
  • Try again? Yeah, maybe. Maybe. Maybe in a savory application.

Petite Creme in Cherry

  • It’s low fat yogurt, made with nonfat milk. Is it going to be wimpy?
  • Yeahhhhh. It’s sort of wimpy. It’s light, it’s creamy. But I’m not sated. It feels like snack yogurt. But it’s good.
  • Try again? Sure, why not.

The Epic Seed, Greek Yogurt with Chia Seeds in Peach

  • I am the most apprehensive about this one, but…I really rather like it. WHO KNEW! I’d never had chia seeds before.
  • The texture of these fruity seedy things reminds me of fish roe. Snappy with a bit of a bite, but the flavor is the opposite of fishy. Light and fruity. Great textural and flavor complement to the Greek yogurt.
  • Try again? Chyea. This one has been a revelation.
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Brinner and Jokes: Baked Eggs with Spinach and Leeks

A joke for you, dear readers.

Let me set the scene: I’m talking to MyFakeFoodDad on the telephone. I’m telling him about what I ate for dinner.

Me: I made baked eggs with spinach and leeks for dinner. You just cook the spinach and leeks down and then crack some eggs and bake them in the oven. Breakfast for dinner.

Dad: Did you use a colander?

(long pause)

Me: …No….why?

Dad: Because it leaks.

Ba dum bum cha.

My reaction was a lot of laughter and I said, “DAMN IT, how did I not see that coming?!?!?”

I like jokes.

Last night, I made some baked eggs from Tasting Table. I’ve been following them on Instagram for a minute. But I didn’t know anything about them. It was difficult to find their About section on the website, but their brand manifesto is a very lovely piece about who they are.

“Tasting Table is a website and newsletter for culinary enthusiasts. We eat high and low to bring you discerning dining advice, recipes you can trust and news you can use from the world of food and drink. We’re an opinionated gang of always curious, anchovy-loving, order-one-of-everything-for-the-table epicurean obsessives.”

As a girl who bought anchovy filets and a tube of anchovy paste with no immediate plans to use them, I relate and appreciate.

…Maybe I’ve overdone it on the anchovy.

I started browsing through their catalogue of rather drool-worthy recipes. I settled on baked eggs with spinach and leaks leeks because it seemed like an easy weeknight meal.

And guess what? It was. Easy. Full of bright flavor, full of veggies. The only thing that was very strange is that my eggs did not bake at all after either 10 or 12 minutes in the oven, so I broiled them for 2-3 minutes. Just long enough for the whites to get opaque but keep that beautiful runny yolk.

What can I said. I like yolks.

Oh dang.

Oh dang.

Baked Eggs with Spinach and Leeks from Tasting Table

  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 medium leek (white and light green parts only), chopped
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 8 cups baby spinach
  • Kosher salt, to taste
  • 4 large eggs
  • ¼ cup heavy cream
  • ½ teaspoon finely chopped thyme
  • ½ teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
  • ¼ teaspoon Aleppo pepper or crushed red pepper flakes

Preheat the oven to 350°.

In a large skillet over medium heat, melt the butter with the olive oil. Add the leeks and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are soft and tender but not browned, 6 to 8 minutes. Add the garlic and spinach, season with salt, and cook until the spinach has wilted, 2 to 3 minutes.

Set 2 small ovenproof dishes onto a baking sheet. Divide the spinach-leek mixture equally between the dishes. Make 2 indentations in each dish, leaving about a 1-inch gap in between. Carefully crack each egg into an indentation. Pour 2 tablespoons of cream into each dish and season with salt.

Place the baking sheet into the oven and bake until the whites are just set but the yolks are still runny, 10 to 12 minutes. | I broiled the eggs under high for 2-3 minutes to the same degree of doneness. Watch them closely, though. They go over quickly.

Top the baked eggs with the thyme, lemon zest and Aleppo pepper, and serve.

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Mid-Week Malaise: Fried Oreos and Rosé

It’s the middle of the week and I have that mid-week malaise. It’s too soon to get excited about this weekend. So I will reminisce about last weekend. And last weekend, I had fried Oreos and rosé on the porch. Did you? No?

Well, that’s a shame.

I’m not going to say that I won.

…but I think it’s pretty clear.

My friend Rebecca came down from DC on Saturday and we had just a splendid weekend. I don’t want to get all Mother’s Day-Facebook-post-sentimental about it, but we became fast friends eight years ago working in our first jobs together. You’ve heard of the saying, “make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other’s gold.” This one is platinum.

Alright, I know, that was REALLY sappy. But I stand by it.

Ernie, as I sometimes call her (her maiden name is Ernst), came in gunning for a blog-worthy weekend and a blog-worthy weekend we had. She arrived on Saturday and we went to the Strawberry Street Festival, which was quite literally across the street from my house. I thought this street festival was going to be like, a tent with a guy doing balloon animals. He may or may not be out on a parole violation. You may or may not want to let your kids talk to him. Not so, my friends. There were several delicious food vendors, activities for the kids (bouncy houses! parrots! seriously, parrots!), some really artists and cool local shops, like Love This. They sell cool pieces, like jewelry, shoes, etc., for a great cause.

ART

ART

This is my new art from Lightbox Print Co. They do hand drawn art of buildings in The Fan. These are restaurants in The Fan and at this point I’ve only eaten at 2 of them. Challenge accepted.

And yes, we had fried oreos, drank a bottle of rose, and sat on the porch.

A match made in heaven

A match made in heaven

A woman walked by and said, “God, that looks great.”

You’re right, perfect stranger. Standing tall on the wings of my dreams…nothing’s gonna stop me now.

Next stop on our tour de food was Proper Pie Co. This is another reason why I love Rebecca. I mentioned that there was a pie shop in town and she said, “well…should we go there?” Yes. Yes we should. Proper Pie Co. is all pies, all the time. They have New-Zealand style savory hand pies, plus sweet pies. This place is dope. (Is that cool to say? I don’t know.) We split a Thai Butternut Squash Hand pie and picked up a piece of coconut cream and peach and blackberry cobbler to split later. Spoiler alert: they were absolutely scrumptious. Go there now, people of Richmond. Who am I kidding, you probably already have.

PIe dios mio.

PIe dios mio.

We went to a minor league baseball game, which was really just a vehicle for us to eat hot dogs and curly fries. Our local team is the The Richmond Flying Squirrels. So, let me correct myself. The baseball game was a vehicle to eat hot dogs and squirrely fries (seriously). I really impressed Rebecca by knowing who Carl Yazstremzki is. She’ll say she wasn’t that impressed, but I know she REALLY was.

On Sunday, I made brunch.

I love you, brunch.

I love you, brunch.

While everyone else was posting really lovely, effusive stuff about their moms on Facebook, Rebecca and I watched the first episode of Bloodline, a pretty fucked up family drama/thriller on Netflix. You know, we had to balance it all out.

Stop whatever you’re doing and watch Bloodline right now. Because Kyle Chandler is in it. I’ve been a Kyle Chandler fan (we call ourselves ‘Fandlers’…we’re working on the name) since Early Edition. Remember that show? With the blind lady and the cat. He’d get tomorrow’s news today and he’d have to try to change it. It was a terrible concept. When I was younger, I asked my dad if the actress who played the blind lady was really blind. And my dad won’t let my live this down to this very day. I’m 30, you guys. But here’s the thing. I was in 6th grade, so I should’ve probably known better. Embarrassing.

Anyway, Bloodline! It’s a Netflix original. The cast is incredible. Kyle Chandler (obviously), Sissy Spacek, Sam Shepherd, Linda Cardellini, some people you’ve never heard of from Broadway but who have won Tony Awards and are incredible. The setting is insanely beautiful. It’s so well shot. It is INTENSE. I’ve seen all thirteen episodes and I actually screamed into my hands one time. But it’s seriously that good. So, stop watching whatever you’re watching and watch this.

And then as quickly as she came to Richmond, Rebecca went back up north. To the land of……..well, shit. I don’t even know. What’s in DC again? Anything?

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Brand New Man: The Hamburglar

Breaking news from McDonald’s on Mashable yesterday: the Hamburglar is back and he’s pretty hot.

Robble Robble indeed. Via Mashable

Robble Robble indeed. Via Mashable

Yes, the Hamburglar is a human man, he’s married, he’s got a human kid, he owns a house and he’s smokin’.

Is this RULL weird to anyone else?

The Hamburglar should look like Rocky Dennis.

Correct

Correct  Via Mcdonalds.Wikia.com

He should not look like Joe Manganiello.

Incorrect. via TheHollywoodBillboard

Incorrect.
via TheHollywoodBillboard

I should not want to sleep with the Hamburglar. Cause I never wanted to before. (Sorry, Dad.)

McDonald’s VP of Marketing, Joel Yashinsky, said something curious about The Hamburglar’s new look. “He’s had some time to grow up a bit and has been busy raising a family in the suburbs and his look has evolved over time.”

Watch this spot, please.

Ok, fine. I will suspend all of my disbelief about his beautiful looks.

But…. he’s had some time to grow up. And he’s been raising a family in the ‘burbs.

Ok, cool. I believe that people can change. Maybe he got arrested after a string of burger robberies. Maybe he’s out on parole. Maybe he got rehabbed in prison. Maybe he got his degree in jail. Worked in the kitchens. Found religion. I don’t know.

Yet, the SECOND he hears that McDonald’s has created the new Sirloin Third Pound burger (on an ad playing on a radio WITH A CASSETTE PLAYER), he drops his unbelievably clean grill spatula.

Get the mask out of storage. He’s got one more job to pull. 

McDonald’s is really perpetuating some ugly truths about the recidivism rate in this country.

(Hat tip, T. Stowe Nelson, MSNBC, and Lockup.)

There’s another spot, too. Equally unfathomable.

I would call this dude a sociopath.

Going back to the quote from the Marketing VP. The Hamburglar has grown up. He’s matured. Um, clearly not. Clearly he hasn’t moved on AT ALL. His name is Hamilton B. Urglar (if Wikipedia is to be believed.) Why HOW would he be able to do anything but burgle hamburgers? He couldn’t become an account executive or a graphic designer or own a skateboard shop. It’s literally in his chemistry to steal hamburgers.

To me, this is another attempt at nostalgia done weirdly by a big brand. It’s too soon to tell if it’s done wrong, but I can’t say with any confidence that it’s going well. It’s certainly not meeting the CEO Steve Easterbrook’s challenge to build “brand excitement.”

I do not want to eat a sirloin triple burger.

That Hamburglar sure looks tasty, though.

Probably not the kind of excitement they were going for.

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On Life and Death: Josh Ozersky

Dearest readers, please be warned. I’ve put on my serious hat today.

It is a cruelty of life that you may not find something that you love until it is gone.

I didn’t know of Josh Ozersky until he was gone. He was a food writer who died on Monday in Chicago. From what I’ve read about him, he was both uniquely talented and supremely difficult. One of the rare people whose difficulty was accepted because his talent was so profound.

I started reading his writing yesterday when Saveur reposted this piece from 2013, written by Josh about his father, David. It’s beautiful, sad and supremely honest. It’s worth every minute of your time.

And now, I can’t stop reading. There’s a touching tribute and recent articles compiled by The Wall Street Journal, sent to me by my dad (surprise, surprise).

I know very little of the man, but I love food and words and he seemed to relish both. If you can read (which I’m pretty sure you can), be sure to read these pieces.

Don’t worry, dear readers, I’ll be back to my regularly scheduled frivolity shortly.

Life may be cruel, but what is life without silliness?

That would hardly be life at all.

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A Treatise: How to Make the Perfect Cheese Plate

A comprehensive guide to making the perfect cheese plate.

Step one: Buy cheese.
This should seem obvious, as this is a lesson on cheese plate-makery. But some of you aren’t that bright.
No, no nooooo, not YOU. You’re GREAT. Have you done something different with your hair?! It looks so shiny.
Other “real” sources of food/entertaining media are going to give you some practical advice for how to tackle this subject. Go for different flavors, textures, types of cheese (cow/goat/other) (what the shit is the other?) (oh god, I hope it isn’t pig).
But I’m going to tell you a few things they’re not going to tell you.
A) Buy what you like. There ain’t no shame in simplicity. So get something that you crave. Need to work on the cheap? Kraft singles cut into quarters, Cracker Barrel block of extra sharp cheddar, Easy Cheese. Serve with Chicken in a Biskit crackers and bologna. Mic drop.
B) This is probably a really controversial move in the world fromage but I’m going to say it: test a new cheese on your plate.
I KNOW. This is basically the wildest idea since sliced cheese.
You’ll never know if you like it til you try something new. Now, this is risky. I once bought a cheese that sounded delicious in theory and tasted like cigarette butts, so I threw that shit out. Which was frustrating because it was a waste of money. But, now I know: Cigarette Butt Goat’s Cheese is not for me. I should’ve probably looked at the name before I bought it…
This is where it’s great to find samples wherever you can: at the local Farmer’s Market, your gro sto, wherever. At my local Kroger, there is a Murray’s Cheese Bar outpost and they have bins of cheeses for $5 and under. It’s a relatively inexpensive way to try new cheeses. You know, if you live in Richmond by the Carytown Kroger. #specific #rva
Step two: Pair that cheese with some stuff.
Eloquently said, Novak.
Bring some other players to the key party cheese plate. This is a way to bring some other textures, flavors, some more salt, some more sweet to the table. Olives are always a welcome sight on my cheese plate because their brininess typically hits my palate in a different way than the cheeses do. Throw in some meats, some grainy mustard, some tart jam and you’ve got yourself a stew going.
Cheese, please.

Cheese, please.

Step Three: Let your cheese sit on the counter for an hour before you serve.
This is really the only rule I live by.
Not, like, in my life.
I live by PLENTY of rules. Like, traffic rules. And a lot of social conventions. But this is my one hard and fast cheese plate rule. I really should’ve been more specific. I’ll add “be more specific” to the ole rule book.
When you pull cheese from the fridge, it has a completely different texture and taste than when it sits on the counter for an hour or so. This is one of those things that I heard and was like, “well, that is utter rubbish.”
And then I tried it and was like, “well, clearly I am utter rubbish.” The cheese is genuinely so much better after the chill has come off. You get all the nuances.
So there you have it. Three easy steps to make the perfect cheese plate. Which was always perfect because it was made by you. (Cue the Full House-style audience reaction: awwwwwwww).
Make yourself happy. Eat some cheese.
That’s a rule to live by if ever I’ve heard one.
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Cookie Snobbery: Momofuku Milkbar Cookie Mixes

My name is Bethany Novak. And I am a snob.

No, not a snob for everything. I mean, I love my butler just as much as I love my housemaids. But they are NOT to look at me in the eyes.

Truth is, I am a cookie snob. I typically find that packaged cookie mixes are sub-par.

I know, I know. Fire up the stakes. Let’s burn the witch.

I was walking through Target on Saturday morning, wearing my Toronto Blue Jays hat, and playing a game where I make up player names in case someone ever asked me who my favorite player is. My latest one is Mark St. Clair. He was a 3rd baseman in the 90s. Had a .400 batting average. He is not real.

Anyway, I was walking up and down the aisles of Target without a list, which is really dangerous. You can spend a lot of money in there. But when you wander unencumbered by a list, hidden in the shadows of your Blue Jays hat, you make phenomenal discoveries. I stumbled upon Momofuku Milk Bar cookie mixes.

If you do not know Momofuku Milk Bar, you do now. It’s the bakery part of the Momofuku family of restaurants, which is based in NYC, and it’s delightful. It’s incredibly whimsical and yet nostalgic, but also so simple. Flavors straight out of childhood (or straight out of a smoky hotbox).

I’m a bit too familiar with the Milk Bar website for my own good. I bought some cookies and truffles as Christmas gifts this year. But I didn’t realize they sold these mixes at Target.

I started with the Compost Cookie, one of their signature flavors. Like other Target versions of haute brands, this product is a bit cheaper than you would get it on the Milk Bar site ($6.99 vs. $16.00). But you actually get a bit more cookie for your buck. A package from Target makes a dozen. The box from the Milk Bar site makes 9. Curious.

But what is not compromised in the slightest is the flavor. I’ve had the cookies from the bakery and they taste identical to the ones that I made in my kitchen this weekend. So, I stand corrected. Some cookie mixes can live up to the real thing. Mea culpa.

Compost Cookie, a tableau

Compost Cookie, a tableau

My friend Natalie saw my Instagram post about the mixes on Saturday and requested “a review with photos and lots of adjectives.” So without further ado, this is for you, Natalie. And anyone else who managed to make it through all the “jokes” to the point of the post.

Ok, adjectives. Um. Well. Yikes. Ok. These cookies are good. Err, no. They’re delicious.

No, those are fluff words that mean squat. Has watching Alton Brown taught me nothing??!

These cookies are perplexing. You shouldn’t want to like them but you do. They shouldn’t make sense but they do. They’re sweet. They’re super sweet. Chocolate chips and butterscotch chips combined put it almost over the edge. But then you come across the potato chips and the pretzels, which give a much-needed punch of salt. It’s a well-balanced cookie.

Mix it up

Mix it up

It’s also a cookie that is has great texture, almost like a granola bar. The crunchy pretz, the flaky chip, the thick oats. For all the stuff that is in it, it is packed full of flavor, but finishes really light. The cookies bake up soft in the middle, but caramelized on the edges.

Christina Tosi, you sexy bitch.

I’m not mad at it. 

This would be the cookie your grandma would make if you got your grandma kinda high. And everybody would love them. Regular grandma. High grandma. Kids. Adults.

Even the recovering snobs among us.

Momofuku Mixes are available at many but not all Target stores and on Target.com.

Check out Momofuku Milk Bar for their whole line of products. They ship pies, cakes, cookies, trufflies, mixes, cookbooks, etc. Word on the street is that the truffles are the tits.

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Take Your Children To Work Day: Chicken Tinga Tacos

Today is Taco Take Your Children To Work Day. So it seems only appropriate to have a post about MyFakeFoodDad, Dave.

Few of you have had the privilege of meeting my dad, but to know Dave is to love Dave.

Do you doubt? Let me explain. Meet Dave.

He doesn’t look like he’s having fun, but he is.

He worked on the railroad for his whole career. He can identify the meaning of a train whistle just by its sound. Now that he’s retired, he’s building a model railroad loosely based on the railroad where he worked when he met my mom. Pretty romantical, if you ask me. Also, nerdy. Old white man hobbies, amiright? (Don’t think he’s not reading this. I would say and have said this to his face. Love you, Pops!)

Dave loves Magnum P.I. and The Rockford Files and has instilled in me a healthy love and respect for both. We watch The West Wing every Thanksgiving, Die Hard every Christmas, and Nacho Libre every Easter. For that is how we do.

Dave will do most anything for a joke (sound familiar?), but he’s also really very thoughtful. He’s a long time reader of the Wall Street Journal and always keeps an eye out for articles that would interest me (and my friends). Theatre! Fashion! Production! Television! Recipes! So many recipes! All of the recipes!

A recent article he shared is about the culture of tacos in America. I love that sentence so much that I’m going to write it again. A recent article he shared is about the culture of tacos in America. The summary is that we’re starting to see a trend back toward the traditional roots of the taco and away from the culture of Anything Goes tacos. No, I don’t mean Cole Porter tacos. (That was for all you musical theatre nerds). What I mean is a taco where anything goes, like Doritos Locos tacos, Korean Barbecue tacos, or Tex Mex tacos. These things may be delicious, but they are not authentically Mexican in either flavor profile or ingredients.

The article included a recipe for Chicken Tinga Tacos from Bajo Sexto Taco in Nashville. Run, don’t walk, to make these for Cinco de Mayo. Or any day de Mayo. Or venticuatro de abril. (That’s tomorrow, people.)

FullSizeRender

They are deeply soul satisfying. The sauce is spicy with a sharp bite from the vinegar, which cools off instantly from the creamy avocado. I paired it with a grilled Mexican corn salad and some chips and guac. Because duh.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that. Tacos are the best. My dad is the best.

I just can’t decide which I love more.

Chicken Tinga Tacos from Bajo Sexto Taco via wsj.com

  • 2½ pounds boneless chicken thighs
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 white onion, thinly sliced
  • Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
  • 2 teaspoons water
  • ½ (7-ounce) can chipotle chilies in adobo sauce
  • 5 garlic cloves, finely chopped
  • ¼ cup distilled white vinegar
  • ¼ cup canola oil
  • 12 fresh corn tortillas, warmed
  • 1 avocado, sliced

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Roast chicken until mostly cooked but still pink and juicy, 25-30 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool slightly. Once cool enough to handle, shred meat coarsely.

Meanwhile, caramelize onions: Heat olive oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Sauté onions, tossing to coat with oil, until softened, 10 minutes. Add a pinch of salt and 2 teaspoons water, then reduce heat to low, and cook, stirring frequently, until tender and deep golden, 20-30 minutes more. If pan becomes dry, add water, 1 teaspoon at a time, to prevent burning.

Make sauce: In a blender, process caramelized onions, chilies with sauce, garlic, vinegar and a pinch each of salt and pepper until smooth.

Heat canola oil in a large skillet. Once shimmering, add sauce and cook until rust-brown and thickened, 3-4 minutes. Add chicken, stir to coat, and cook until no longer pink, 3-4 minutes more. Season with salt and pepper. Serve chicken on tortillas with a slice of avocado.

Mexican Corn Salad from Bon Appetit

  • 4 ears of corn, husked
  • 3 tablespoons mayonnaise
  • 2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
  • 1/8 teaspoon paprika
  • 1/8 teaspoon of cayenne pepper (optional)
  • 2 ounce Cotija cheese or Parmesan, crumbled (about 1/2 cup), plus more for serving
  • 2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro plus more for serving
  • Kosher salt, freshly ground pepper

Prepare grill for medium heat. Grill corn, turning occasionally, until tender and charred, 8–10 minutes; let cool slightly. Cut kernels from cobs and transfer to a medium bowl.

Whisk mayonnaise, lime juice, paprika, cayenne, if using, 2 oz. Cotija cheese, and 2 tablespoons cilantro in a large bowl; season with salt and pepper. Add corn and toss to combine. Top with more cheese and cilantro.

DO AHEAD: Dressing can be made 2 days ahead. Cover and chill. Corn can be grilled and cut from cobs 1 hour ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.

Guacamole from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook via FoodNetwork.com

  • 4 ripe Haas avocados
  • 3 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (1 lemon)
  • 8 dashes hot pepper sauce
  • 1/2 cup small-diced red onion (1 small onion)
  • 1 large garlic clove, minced
  • 1 teaspoon kosher salt
  • 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 1 medium tomato, seeded, and small-diced

Cut the avocados in 1/2, remove the pits, and scoop the flesh out of their shells into a large bowl. Immediately add the lemon juice, hot pepper sauce, onion, garlic, salt, and pepper and toss well. Using a sharp knife, slice through the avocados in the bowl until they are finely diced. Add the tomatoes. Mix well and taste for salt and pepper.

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Food-vertisment: Sargento Commercials make me Swiss-cidal

Let’s play Specific Desert Island.

You’re trapped on a desert island. You have all sorts of islandy things to eat: pineapples, warthogs, fishes, rum. But you get to bring a lifetime supply of any one item with you. What is it?

There is no wrong or right answer here, people.

Except my answer is the right answer and every other answer is the wrong answer.

Don’t you see? It’s cheese. You won’t find cheese in the wild. You won’t find cheese in the sea. You can’t make cheese from a pig. And if you can and one of you has tried it, please don’t tell me.

Cheese. Cheese is the answer. Cheeses is the reason for the season. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that I have 8 types of cheese in my fridge right now. How many types can I eat at once? I don’t know. CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

I was watching the best episode of Chopped ever yesterday. They had an Amateur’s Brawl and it’s an absolute delight. Drew Magary of Deadspin finally got his chance to compete after his application for the show went viral a few years back.

This episode of Chopped was brought to us by the good people of Sargento. They’re Real Cheese People. #RealCheesePeople

Charles what now?

I’m including a video that I shot from my TV. Apologies for the terrible quality.

 

Did no one at the cheese company realize that CHEESE is one letter off from CHEESY? Apparently the writer of this spot set out to write the cheesiest muenster-fucking script there ever was. I take some serious issue with it.

You’re cheese people? Like, a person made of cheese…? You want a piece of real and a slice of legit? If you’re such a real cheese person, why don’t you put your legit where your mouth is and put a piece of cheese in your mouth.

A slice of legit. What does that even mean? Seriously. I make up phrases all the time. (I take you back 2 paragraphs to “muenster-fucking.”) But a “slice of legit.” That’s puffery.

Now, don’t think I don’t understand what they’re going for here. They want us to REALLY understand that their cheese is real cheese. They’re trying to distinctly differentiate themselves from Kraft singles, which is “processed cheese food.” This is actual cheese. Made from actual milk. For real cheese people.

And real cheese people are authentic. And legit.

Like these two guys.

#RealCheesePeople

#RealCheesePeople

These two guys who look like they were just told their wives have been killed by wolves in the barn behind them and then forced at gunpoint to hold up this picture of distant relatives for a TV shoot.

Seriously. These guys look like they HATE cheese. And barns. And definitely wolves. They certainly don’t get off on the creamy mouthfeel of a piece of camembert. Or the oniony bite of a piece of cotswold. These are not people who have bought cheese for their best friend as a birthday present. (Yes, I have done that. What of it?)

But these guys dweebs. These dweebs live their life shredding authenticity wherever they go. They’re so mother-feta legit.

Listen, I could get all arrogant about who wrote this piece of real. (Get it?) But…who approved it?

Seriously. Who thought that this made anyone want to buy cheese?

This commercial is a handjob for the Sargento family. And I think that we can all tell by their faces that they’re not having a very good time.

But hey. If there’s one thing we can say about them, is that they’re real cheese people.

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