Danger of Finals

Narges: "I'm going to put the sauce on it and then put it in the oven."
Me: "Why?"
Narges: "Cause this chicken is not cooked."
Me: "Oh."
Narges: "Yeah, I've been watching you."
Me: "I ate some of it."

In... my mouth

So, as planned, post Bay to Breakers, I made a stop at KFC for a Double Down.

The Double Down has been hailed as some kind of new sandwich. A breadless sandwich consisting of two pieces of fried chicken breast (in the original style), two strips of bacon and two slices of cheese. The chicken acts as if it were bread, so if this were a sandwich, it would be a cheese and bacon sandwich really.

But it's not a sandwich. Sure, it's stuff between other stuff, but really it's an elaborate chicken nugget.
And what a chicken nugget it is. The photo above is a few bites in, but you can see that it's two pieces of chicken breast with cheese sandwiched between it. The bacon isn't fully visible in this photo, and thinking back on it I don't really recall it being there, but I'm sure it was. Whatever was there, it was awesome.

I read one report that this was 550 calories. Then later that day I heard that report was grossly underestimated. However many calories it contains, it's pretty much worth eating it. Whether there's bacon or not. Though again, I'm sure there is bacon if they say there's bacon.

Subject: Turducken this year?

Email from me to Mom:
I will buy this. Or at least, throw some coin down on it. TURDUCKEN!!!

"Approximately 18-20 pounds and will feed 18-22 people full with some leftovers. Each Turducken comes with a electric thermometer and alarm probe in the center of the duck breast (the very center of the Turducken), directions on how to cook it will also be provided. The Turducken comes on a bed of root vegetables with assorted herbs in a roasting pan ready to cook.

The Turducken is stuffed with a duck inside a chicken inside a turkey, all never frozen and free range. The birds will be stuffed with a chicken and duck sausage cornbread stuffing.

Each bird is $250 and we require a 50% deposit via paypal to process your order."

I'm down to get vetoed, but this comes from a very reputable butcher. it's not like the KFC experiment of 2004.

Email response from Adam (who was CC'd)
Uuuhhhhh

Email response from Mom
Why, just last night I was discussing a free-range organic turkey for this year. The subject of Turducken never came up. While I am open to new ideas and am loathe to shoot something down that I have never tried, (hence the KFC turkey), I feel that I must kindly decline the generous offer or Turducken.

I will, as form of consolation consider a duck, alongside the turkey, or, duck for Christmas dinner, or a rubber duck swimming in gravy. Turkey gravy.

I applaud your sense of adventure.

--

Three for a dollar

I awoke this morning with artichokes on my mind. Which is weird. Not nearly as weird as it would have been to wake up surrounded by artichokes - a realization that made me feel a little better.

I wasn't dreaming about artichokes, you understand. But at 6:30 as soon as I opened my eyes (and experiencing a bit of an upset stomach) it was almost all I could think about. Mainly just the word and the image of what they look like.
I started thinking about artichokes as a metaphor for time, with each year being a leaf torn off the thistle. This is a frightening image if you think about it (which I did) because eventually whoever's doing the tearing will get to those really thin pedals, rip them out all at once along with the fur, causing everything to age decades in an instant, then bite into the heart which would what? End all time?

So I shook that metaphor and started to concentrate on the last time I had an artichoke. Narges' grandma gave me three this past June or so, and I cooked them up for myself, Andy and Rew. I made a Parmesan garlic butter for dipping (cause I didn't have mayonnaise) which was good. While I ate it I tried to remember the last time I had had an artichoke. At the time I may have been able to remember, I don't know.

Again, I should point out, I didn't wake up wanting an artichoke, or with an artichoke taste in my mouth. Their existence just occurred to me, is all.

--

You got some BALLS, La Boulange

I've never been to La Boulange before, despite the fact that they're everywhere in San Francisco.

Today, since I have a borrowed car, Narges suggested I go somewhere I can't walk to, so I made my way to Strawberry Village for my first trip the "the bakery."

I ordered an open-face club sandwich (with avocado) expecting to get something in the form of this, which I would need to eat with a knife and fork.

What I got, was a NORMAL sandwich (although with three layers). And it wasn't even cut into 4 triangles like a REAL normal club sandwich.

Don't get me wrong, it was delicious as all get out and had me licking the plate when I was done. But the point remains, I was expecting an open-face club sandwich - which would have been a radical interpretation of the traditional club sandwich composition (the aforementioned triple-decker 4 triangles). What I got was a (delicious) bastardization of the triple-decker club sandwich. In fact, this would even qualify as half-assed, since there were half as many cuts as would be required to turn it into 4 pieces.

I wish I had taken a picture, but it was so tasty, I ate it too quick.

Is that the kind that takes 30 minutes? No... 30 Minutes!?!

By coincidence, Andy and I both went to the dentist today and by obvious correlation, both of our mouths are sore. I see the thing of steel-cut oatmeal that Narges mistakenly bought a while ago and declare that I'm going to make some.

He asks if that's the kind that takes 30 minutes to make and I say no, it couldn't be that long. From the other room I could then be heard yelling "30 minutes?!?"

So now is the waiting time. I'ma put maple syrup in it (sugar was not the cause of my trip to the dentist, though I can see now how you could think that).

Don't mind if I do

The last piece of cake, the last beer in the fridge, the last of what was a dozen Buffalo wings? Yeah, I'll take that.

Someone cut up a strawberry scone in the office this morning. I had one of the first pieces to be claimed, then half an hour later there was a lonely little bit left. I swooped on it like a lion on an elderly antelope.

It was yummy and am glad I didn't hesitate like so many others would have.

And I didn't even come from a big family. Oh wait, yes I did.

Tonight's menu

Chopped salad with roasted peppers and tomatillo salsa dressing

Homestyle mashed potatoes

Swiss chard avec carrot

A Montreal seasoned ribeye steak with a Cabernet mushroom shallot reduction

Desert of little brownie

Paired with a 2004 Sette Fratelli Merlot of Jacuzzi Vineyards, which was purchased specifically to be paired with a steak dinner.

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner: Photos, esse

Sauteed chard with onions, garlic, garbanzos, a splash of balsamic and a splash of chardonnay. This was served with feta cheese, toasted pita, pepperchinis and hummus (I thought I had mixed Mediterranean olives, but despite being in brine, they smelled yeasty).


Entirely homemade tortilla soup (to-go version pictured below).


A bed of shredded lettuce, a sliced tomato, a sliced avocado (salted and peppered) topped with an egg over easy. Breakfast done unique (and with what was on hand).

Notes from a small kitchen

So I signed up for a delivery service that, every two weeks, brings me a box of organic vegetables picked from a farm outside of Sacramento. I usually don't know what they're going to bring me until I open the box on Tuesday mornings (at the advice of Narges who told me "it's like Christmas") but after finishing off "The Omnivore's Dilemma" tonight, I needed to go online and see what I'm getting tomorrow (I also expect to have a busy morning at work and thought it best to get my googling of recipes out of the way tonight).

The website lists the vegetables they are going to deliver on the Friday before delivery day, which is Tuesday for the zip code where my office is located. The farm picks whatever's ripe that week, supplements it with stuff from other farms nearby (I've been getting apples and pears from Oregon, but everything else from Capay Valley) and the subscriber has to make something with the ingredients. It's a little like Iron Chef, but not really at all.

Since it's the dead of winter, it's winter produce season. Leeks, red onions, garlic, apples and pears (from Oregon), oranges, potatoes, red leaf lettuce and the like are all (except the fruit and lettuce) the kind of seasonal soup-ingredient-esque stuff I'd expect to find at a farmers' market this time of year.

Part of the goal of getting this delivery is general health. I'd like to live long and healthy, and eating fresh vegetables seems to be a good way to go about that. Also, it's an attempt at supporting local economies and good ideas. But also, it's an adventure. I've made some recipes lately and cooked with ingredients that I had never and probably would never have attempted. My mom doesn't like brussels sprouts, so I'd never eaten one in my life. But, presented with nearly a pound of them, I had to make some lightly seared and salted brussels sprouts as an appetizer one night.

My last two (and honestly, so far the only two until tomorrow morning) shipments also included kale, which has been fun to experiment with. Here's what I'm getting tomorrow (along with onions, garlic and four pounds of fruit):

	1	bu	Our Farm	Gold Chard
	1	bu	Our Farm	Bunched Collard
	1	bu	Our Farm	Nantes Carrot
	1	cnt	Our Farm	Lacinato / Dino Kale

I wanted to make roasted kale last time but used it all in a soup (which came after the appetizer mentioned above), so I'm glad I'm getting another shot at it. Carrots are awesome (I may just eat them as snacks) but I'm having an issue with the collard greens (aside from their similarity to chard and kale).

Going back to the health aspect, why does every recipe for this plant call for ham hocks? First off, while I never did before, I realize now that I have a rule against eating food the name of which I associate with loogies. Second... no. I don't want to cook with pig knuckles, or feet, or whatever the ham hock is. It seems weird, and really, wouldn't bacon be better suited anyway? It usually is.

This bunch of collard greens is going to lead us to yet another installment of Tenderloin Fusion, whereby through lack of funds, motivation or a sense of urgency we put inexpensive, lazy, or "really what difference does it make" spins on dishes from around the world. Well, so far mostly Asia, but we were bound to make it to The South eventually. It makes a kind of homonymical sense to go to Soul Food after the last attempt at Seoul Food.

A little too ironic

There is something so delicious about spending my lunch hour eating Orange Chicken at Panda Express while reading "The Omnivore's Dilemma" by Michael Pollan. The answer to the question of "What should I eat?" is probably not "the jewel of the Orient," but it's certainly the answer to the question of "what do I want to eat right now?" (Well not now, cause I just ate that, but two hours ago it was the answer.)

But I did just sign up for bi-weekly deliveries of fresh, locally grown organic fruits and veggies from FarmFreshToYou.com. So I've got that going for me starting on Tuesday.