Gilding the Lily since 2006
This side dish is from ONE beet. One perfect, golden nugget so sweet I could eat the whole plate for dinner alone. I scrubbed and cubed it, steamed it, then simply dressed it in good butter, a splash of Norm’s homemade Pinot vinegar, and some …
Because I am completely détritus blanc, I prefer my mac & chee with ketchup. Oh, don’t look at me like that. Some of you are toasting marshmallows onto pork loin chops or eating barbecue sauce on spaghetti. Like that’s a thing. Ketchup on mac & …
The other day I was wandering around New Seasons, as is my wont, and they had an unbelievable deal on pork spareribs. Like $2.38 a pound or sommat. Sure, you’re mostly paying for bone, but that’s still so cheap that you can get a half a rack for a few bucks and feed two people easily.
Their root veg was particularly enormous, too, and I wound up buying a turnip and a golden beet, each easily the size of my head. The crispy autumn sunshine and oak duff worked their magic on me, and I fell into the trance of a slow braise. Orange zest and juice, sugar, soy sauce, garlic and shallots warmed in a wide casserole and I slipped the ribs under the cozy liquid, tucked it snug in its bed with tinfoil, and kissed it goodnight in a three-hour warm oven.
When the meat was dripping off the bones, I reduced the liquid until sticky-sweet and earthy soy. I boiled and mashed a whole megatuber, Super Mario-esque turnip with a lot of buttermilk and cultured butter, added a pinch of salt and chopped parsley, and then ran the immersion blender through it for good measure.
Pencil-thin asparagus (not in season, but Scott tends to pick it up for his requisite steak-and-mashed-potato-while-Heather-is away Man Dinner, and we had some left from last week when he made just such a purchase) took a hot pan with olive oil, salt and lemon zest.
Most of the meat fell off when I tried to cut the ribs apart, but I was able to salvage a few for the photo. I can’t stop thinking about everything else I want to braise.
I swear, I’ve almost worked through all of my chanterelles. I’m actually getting tired of eating them, being too much of a good thing. I’ve been craving pot pies and brown gravy and all that, and thought I’d give making pasties a go. It’s pretty …
…and their respective Meatloaf Sammiches. Warning: iPhone photos ahead! Apologies for the powdered milk patina. So, I’ve been out of town a lot for work. It’s a controversial project that I can’t discuss, but I do a lot of driving and hiking. In the rain. …
Meeehhhhhhh. Weh!An ass-busting week in the field, an all-night Halloween bender followed by an all-day wicked hangover, then I started my woman times yesterday. I have not given less of a shit about blogging since I chopped off the tip my pinky last spring. I haven’t blogged in more than a week, and no one has even noticed! Cue tiniest violin in the world playing my fucking song.
Needless to say, I need a little hug. Sure, the husband is good for a pitying hug when I give him that look (he has a special way that makes you feel comforted, but not patronized, even when you know you’re being an unfuckable hag), but nothing can hug my insides like a bowl of bibimbop.
Bibimbop is the ultimate Korean comfort food – I surmise it’s what Korean moms make their rainy-day kids instead of grilled chee and Campbell’s tomato soup by the fire. A hot bowl of steamed rice top with bits and ends: leftover steak, thinly-sliced and dressed with black vinegar and sesame oil (throw some leftover eggplant in there too to soak up some beefy juice); some sautéed shiitakes (from my shiitake logs) marinated in mirin, sugar, thick soy sauce and black pepper; thinly-sliced cucumber quickled in rice vinegar, sugar, salt and black sesame seeds; some wilted bean sprouts hit with a splash of mirin and sake; yam boiled in soy sauce and sugar; and red bell pepper and onion browned with sesame oil, chile and garlic. I have some leftover gai lan with oyster sauce, throw that on there too. Oh, and you can’t forget a spanky wad of kimchi. Top with an egg fried over easy (stir the raw yolk into the hot rice) and a blob of gochujang. Commence toe-curl.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Gossip Girl and Heroes to watch.