The Magic of Bacon

So over the holidays, the fabulous TMC of Return to Rural welcomed me and Kimba of Kimbaland, along with Kimba's husband J, to her ancestral home to eat turkey soup, watch football, and play Scrabble. Good times were had by all.

During the course of the afternoon, we started discussing bacon. (What, like you don't have a conversation about bacon during every gathering?) Kimba and J mentioned that they had recently eaten bacon cooked with flour, and that it was exceptionally good, extra crispy and very flat.

I was, of course, intrigued. Bacon? Cooked in a manner that would further enhance its natural goodness? I needed to try this. I finally had the opportunity to do so yesterday. AND NOW I AM A BELIEVER. Delicious!

The trick is to add just a little flour - don't dredge it like you're making chicken parmiagiana; just sprinkle some on each side and flip over to lightly coat the bacon strip. Put it in the pan, cook as you normally do, and presto! Extra tasty bacon.

Thank you, TMC, for introducing me to Kimba; and thank you Kimba, for introducing me to better bacon. Please click here to see the manifestation of my gratitude.

Get In Mah Bellah!

Christ, I fell off the "eating healthy" wagon, hard. So hard, in fact, that I bounced into the "chow down like a fat ass" truck that was driving in the opposite direction.

I've had an assortment of bad choices* find their way into my digestive system lately. Today I had a meatball sub! And yesterday I had chorizo con papas y huevos! (That's chorizo** with potatoes and eggs for all you gringos.) The day before that? Bacon and eggs. I had Arby's last week, people. ARBY'S.

I'm kind of afraid to step on a scale and find out if I've gained back all the weight I lost. I think I'll wait until after I have my pepperoni and sausage pizza for dinner.

* Bad...but delicious.

** What's English for chorizo?

You Say Tomato, I Say Persimmon

Conversation between me and Wendy on the way to the ladies room after too much wine at Madeleine's Wine Bar on Election Night

Me: Is that a plate of tomatoes? *hic*

Wendy: They're persimmons! Not tomatoes.

Me: Should I take one? Are they any good?

Wendy: Here, take this one, it looks ripe.

Me: I better not, I think they're for decoration.

Wendy: No, take it! Take it! It's ripe!

Me: Okay, fine. Let's go. (puts ripe persimmon in purse)

The next day

Me: What the hell is this orange stuff all over my sunglasses case? (wipes it off)

Me: What the hell is orange stuff this all over my wallet? Did I drop pasta sauce in here? (wipes it off)

Me: OMG, there's an exploded persimmon in my purse! (eats a little bit and finds it quite delicious)

The moral of the story: do not put ripe fruit in your purse when you are drunk. Also persimmons taste good.

Thinking...

I know the Trader Joe's package said "mushroom risotto" but it tastes suspiciously like Rice-A-Roni to me, especially re-heated two days later.

I Like Candy, I Like Corn

Man, I love Fall.

Fall means Halloween and Halloween means CANDY. I was wriggling with excitement during a recent trip to Target when I realized I could buy a bag of candy corn. NOM!!1!eleventy!!

I was heading towards the Halloween section when I ran into my friend David, who works at the store, and he walked me over there so we could hang and talk for a bit. There were stacks and row and bins of EVERY KIND OF EFFING CANDY EXCEPT FOR CANDY CORN. What the hell? Is candy corn not the definitive candy of Halloween?

We went up and down every single aisle and couldn't find it. I began to fear that the government had used all the candy corn to make candy ethanol and now there was none left for human consumption. Finally, we found two bags of candy corn hidden away in a corner. TWO BAGS! Maybe there was some sort of candy corn run before I arrived.

I just ate about twenty little niblets of it. There's no fat in candy corn, but the first four ingredients are corn syrup, sugar, salt, and honey. Of course, the second four are candle wax, orange crayons, yellow crayons, and white crayons. Still, very delicious.

However, the problem with candy corn is that a little goes a long way. I already feel vaguely ill. I think of candy corn as the deviant porn of the candy world. At first it's like, yeah, alright, this is awesome! Bow chicka bow bow! But pretty quickly, you're like oh, my stomach hurts. I totally didn't realize there was going to be a donkey involved.

The Accidental Vegetarian

I just realized I haven't consumed any meat since Saturday night. (Of course, in a fit of protein-deficient mania that night, I ate a Wendy's hamburger [and a Krispy Kreme donut] but still, it was three whole days ago!)

I'm not on a diet or anything. I actually don't do diets, because they make me crabby and hungry and sleepy, which, come to think of it, is how I usually feel, only moreso. However, I am trying to eat healthier and have discovered I really like salads, so I'm eating them once or twice a day. I make them at home using copious amounts of baby spinach and lots of vegetables from the farmers market, plus sunflower seeds because they are the best thing ever on salads.

Without realizing it, I've actually started eating less every day and sometimes finish a salad and don't have something else for my "real" meal. (Originally, I would start with a salad and have a small portion of something else - a sandwich or some pasta.) I've also been having oatmeal for breakfast every day, mostly because my cholesterol is still higher than it should be, and eating a piece of fruit or two most days.

I haven't gone crazy with this health kick - I still have something sweet every day, even if it's just a couple of miniature chocolates - but I am excited that I've lost five pounds without trying, or even exercising. (Which is kind of sad, because I really want/need to exercise. I've been busy and admittedly lazy.)

Anyhow, it's sort of cool to realize that I am eating a lot less meat. I feel better and I think I look healthier and best of all, I'm reducing my carbon footprint. Yay, me!

Deep Thoughts

I've decided that what I like best about bananas is that they come individually wrapped so I don't have to wash them. The time I spend washing fruit and vegetables is time that could be better spent eating them if only they all were as conveniently (intelligently?) designed as the banana.

It Only Makes Me Love Her More

I always suspected it, especially after reading "My Life in France," but confirmation came out today: Julia Child was a spy!



Damn, was she the coolest woman who ever lived or what?

A Cuppa Joe

How is it that I make coffee every single day and yet I can't make it taste the same every day? I certainly don't understand how people can consistently make bad coffee, but I also don't understand how I can't consistently make good coffee. Some days it's so perfect I want to shake myself until I confess what I did to achieve something so delicious. Other days, like today, I want to give myself a kick in the shin for making it so strong my esophagus spasms when I drink it. Perhaps this is a solid argument for buying the coffeemaker that takes pods.

Oh My Goodness!

Food critic and writing demigod Jonathan Gold likes my Yelp reviews! I'd heard about this from a couple of friends who know him, but to see it in writing for myself was quite exciting. Okay, he actually says he likes the energy I bring to my reviews, but I'll take that to mean I'm obviously next in line for the Pulitzer. Oh, happy day!

1001 Uses For Leftover Garlic Bread

I get the feeling I'm going to be eating a lot of garlic bread sandwiches this week. (In fact, I bought salami and pepper turkey for this express reason.) I'm also planning on making garlic bread pizza. If I get super-adventurous and still have any leftovers, I might try my hand at croutons. What else could I do with an (almost) entire loaf of garlic bread?

Spaghetti And Sadness

I used my kitchen as God intended tonight - Ken came over and we cooked dinner together. We decided on spaghetti, so we went to the market and then I insisted on doing most of the work myself and bossing him around for the rest. He's a very obedient sous chef, I must say.

We sauteed Italian squash (aka zucchini), graffiti eggplant, and red bell pepper in garlic and olive oil and combined this with store-bought Barilla marinara. We also heated up some garlic bread (because what's spaghetti without garlic bread?) and made a salad of mixed greens, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and sunflower seeds. I wish I'd thought to buy eggs because hard boiled eggs are my current addiction and they taste so good in salads.

For dessert we had Breyer's Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream in waffle cups. Those cups are tasty, but packaged very deceptively so as to appear much larger than they are once you open the box. I'd buy them again anyways. The ice cream is also amazing, by the way - super pepperminty!

We had a really nice evening, but eventually we had to acknowledge why he'd come over. He wanted to spend some time with me so we could talk about his potential move back home to the East Coast. Nothing's set in stone yet, but it seems he'll probably be leaving California within a couple of months. I'm absolutely miserable about it.

I can't imagine my life here without him nearby, the way he's been since I arrived in Los Angeles. I want more time together and I tell myself that would make it easier for me to let him go. But I know that's not true - no matter how much time we spend together, it will never be enough for me. He's the best friend I've ever had, the person who sees me like nobody else ever could. I miss him already.

FAIL

So I missed posting yesterday. Sorry, NaBloPoMo. I was going to do it before I left to go running with Jenny, Bill, and Cole, but I thought for sure I'd be home before midnight. Of course, Jenny and I stayed up talking until 1:30 so by the time I got home, I was too tired to do anything but take a shower and crash.

I did have a post planned for yesterday - a follow up to my original Donut Man post, in fact. I drove 40 miles roundtrip to Glendora because I read on Yelp that it was the last week for strawberry donuts. (Stupid me, I heard Masa say they were gone but I thought he just meant for the day, not the year.)

I kind of knew I was in for disappointment when I drove up and saw a guy painting a sign for fresh peach donuts on the wall of the place. Eric, the guy behind the counter, told me they'd just finished with strawberry season two days earlier. Curses! I asked him what I should order instead and he recommended a cream cheese and raspberry topped donut. I also took an apple crumb for good measure; I figured the fruit is why they're best-known so I couldn't go wrong. (He also mentioned that they serve cream cheese pumpkin donuts in October and November. NOM!)



I haven't come close to finishing the half of each donut I kept for myself (I dropped off half of each one for the Ex on my way down to Lakewood to put in the offer on the house) but they are pretty good, if not exactly what I was craving. I'm not sure they were worth the drive, though.

The Donut Man

I've wanted to try the strawberry donut from The Donut Man for over a year. I still haven't had one, but I need to try to make it out to Glendora this week, as it's the last week of the season.

However, thanks to the ever-fabulous Masa, I did try the peach donut from there tonight during Bill's birthday celebration tonight. I don't think the fruit is perfectly ripe yet - the peaches were a tad firmer than I would have liked - but man, those are some damn tasty (and huge) donuts.

It's a good thing I'm planning on running with Bill and Jenny tomorrow night. I've had way too much good stuff to eat this week.

The Rich Girl's Diet

One of the absolute pleasures of traveling for work (at least with my job) is that I get to eat at some fairly nice establishments and I don't have to foot the bill. My company is pretty generous in terms of expenses for meals, and while I don't exactly take advantage, I pretty much never eat on the cheap (for dinner, anyways) when I'm on the road.

I'm not traveling today, but I do have a colleague in town with whom I love to spend time, so she's taking me out courtesy of our company tonight. We're going to Cafe Santorini, and yes, I chose it because I haven't Yelped it yet.

I'm so spoiled.

Lip-Lickingly Luscious

The first time I ever tried pat bing soo was in Dallas, of all places, courtesy of a Korean friend I met thanks to Yelp. Let me just say, those Koreans know what they are doing with the frozen desserts.

For the uninitiated, pat bing soo (or patbingsu) is a popular Korean dessert of shaved ice and red beans with sweetened condensed milk, covered with sliced fruit (usually kiwi, strawberries, and bananas) along with mochi. The best kind, in my opinion, incorporates (vanilla) ice cream as well. I do not like cereal on it, as I learned when we ventured to a place in Koreatown that served it with melty strawberry ice cream and Fruity Pebbles. Yuck!

Anyhow, fortunately for me, I found a little slice of heaven right here in Pasadena. Sandwich Story serves pat bing soo, and while it didn't have ice cream on it, they said could totally work that out for me next time. (I am in love with this place already.) I am very happy right now.

Hulk Smash!

Then Hulk engage in rough sexual congress with you!

I am in the throes of PMS, which means I am totally angry, hungry, and horny. Those are not three great tastes that go great together, by the way.

I needed to go to Target tonight and since I was already in Alhambra, I thought I'd stop by the Target there. BIG MISTAKE. Whoever designed their parking is either a complete masochist or flunked all their urban planning classes. That is one fucked up parking lot. After driving in circles for ten straight minutes, I left in a fury before I popped a blood vessel or burned the store to the ground (a threat I shouted out the window as I drove by the entrance of the store, startling several shoppers).

By the time I got back to Pasadena, I was somewhat calmer and managed to park and enter the Target there without any tears or violence. However, not being able to find the paper towels that were on sale enraged me, as did my momentary belief that Target had suddenly stopped carrying Equal.*

Then there was this hot guy I kept bumping into in the store, until I was a seething pool of sexual energy and had half a mind to accost him in Electronics. (Cleanup in aisle 6, cleanup in aisle 9.) Lucky for him, my attention was distracted by the fact that The Notebook, which was supposed to be on sale for $10, was actually $13. I think this is when my skin turned green and my pants shredded around my massive thighs.

I managed to leave the store without killing or sexually assaulting anyone, but to soothe the savage beast within, I had to stop for a Neapolitan shake at In-N-Out. Mmmmmm...it's like the opposite of gamma rays. I highly recommend bringing me one of these if you think you might upset me this week.

* I actually did harbor a belief that perhaps Target had stopped carrying Equal for some sort of moral reason when I couldn't find it next to the other sweeteners in the store. A few weeks ago, Jenny told me Equal was originally developed as a neurotoxin to kill ants. I'm still not sure if I believe this (or if I care, since it tastes AWESOME) but I was pretty panicky when I thought I'd have to settle for Splenda instead.

Although I Also Thought There Would Be More Recess

Corazon and I had Tarantino's for dinner on Friday night. As we were eating, I mentioned that I usually have pizza once a week. (This could explain why twice-a-week sessions with Melody aren't making me any skinnier.) Corazon thought that was totally awesome, which made me realize: a) I really am awesome; b) I need more friends who admire me for having so little self-control that I eat pizza once a week; and c) along with eating dessert first, eating pizza once a week was always kind of my dream of what being a grown-up would be like.

The Taste of Summer

A friend of mine from back home was in town the other night and somehow we started talking about Nelson's Golden Glow barbecued chicken. (I'm pretty sure that lucky bastard had eaten some recently.)

Every time I'm home, I drive around looking for Nelson's Golden Glow, aka Porta-Pit. It is seriously the BEST. CHICKEN. EVER. It's usually available at portable bbq stands by the side of the road during the summer, being sold by church groups or Boy Scouts trying to raise money. It smells and tastes amazing; I can't even explain how good it is.

There's almost nothing worse than hoping to get some Nelson's and not being able to find it. (Except for buying chicken because it smells like Nelson's but then it doesn't taste the same - that really sucks.) But now, thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I'll be able to hunt it down the next time I'm in Indiana. Almost makes me want to use my free roundtrip on Southwest to schedule another visit home.

Look! A Wagon Wheel!

I have been remiss in my food blogging duties, as I failed to mention any of the grilled cheese concoctions I consumed last Saturday night.

I arrived with a cooler full of ice, a bottle of wine, and popsicles left over from the previous week. Unfortunately, there weren't any sandwiches ready when I walked in. I stood around for a bit complaining about being hungry and hoping someone would make one for me, but no one did. I finally gave in and made my own using some Gruyère that Corazon brought, sliced tomatoes, and the garlic/rosemary olive oil that Sofia made. Ohhh, nom nom nom....so tasty.

Then Nick started making open-faced grilled cheese on Texas toast with cheddar. Also quite delicious! Corazon made a Gruyère, garlic spread, and sliced apple grilled cheese with a Parmesan crust bacon (sorry for the memory lapse, darling) that was divine. I kind of blacked out on cheese at this point and don't remember any other sandwiches, though I'm sure I tasted a few more. (The blackout may also be attributed to the half bottle of Stella Rosa wine I drank.)

Based on this event, I have decided I would like to marry a cheesemonger. Not only would he give me unlimited access to cheese, but isn't that the coolest job title ever?