I voted for goat and shumai

Thursday marked the start of the Lunar New Year, and like many other people sitting in the bathroom that morning, I heard the lighthearted story on NPR about the varying English translations of this year's animal.

I, of course, would have left it there, but in the comments on that story, there was a link to a super cool website that is having people vote for the representative animal candidate of their choice.

I voted for Goat.  He's a rebel*.  The creators of the site are making donations on all behalf of all the animals to Heifer International, so every vote really does count.  Go vote, and let me know who you picked!

So I'm now fully in the spirit of the whole thing, and had some time on my hands because it was raining in Los Angeles and we were all confined to our homes**.  I decided to celebrate the Lunar New Year by making homemade Chinese shu mai dumplings and potstickers.***



Ram they were good.
In fact, they were baaaaaaantastic.
Goat thing this celebration only happens once a year.

I think my husband is going to take the radio out of the bathroom now****.

Falling Back

Here's the thing about blogging, at least the way I do it.  I cook something, and then I write about it after we eat it*.   Days, weeks, or even months pass between consumption and posting, because honestly, that's just how s@#$ goes around here.

The problem with this system** for the reader***  is that there can be a bit of a timing issue. For example, last year I posted the recipes for a fabulous Thanksgiving dinner shortly before Christmas.  I have been known to suggest making eggnog scones when the aisles of the grocery store are full of frilly red boxes of chocolate.  And recently, I dangled tantalizing images of heirloom tomato pies just in time for people to head out to their local U-Pick apple orchard.

As Charlie Brown**** would say, "Argh!"

I think about this sometimes and despair.  Like today. I was driving through vast stretches of the midwest admiring the spectacular foliage while having a mild panic attack about the fact that daylight savings time is ending soon and I'm still grappling with a post about summer corn salad.  Then, it hit me.

I could truly fall back.
As in, resurrect some autumn favorites from the archives, and share them ahead of time*****.

Good grief, Charlie Brown! Why didn't I think of this sooner?******

Pulled pork: The opposite of being made to look like an idiot in 19th century Scotland

Per my two minutes of online research, this is the origin of the phrase "Pull One's Leg":

"When you pull a person's leg you are spoofing or making fun of him, usually in a good-humored way. But that wasn't always the meaning of the expression. When the expression first turned up in Scotland about a hundred years ago, it was lacking the lighthearted touch it has today. In those days 'pull one's leg' meant to make of fool of him, often by outright cheating. The best theory of the origin of the phrase is that by tripping a person -- pulling his leg -- you can throw him into a state of confusion and make him look very foolish indeed." From "Morris Dictionary of Word and Phrase Origins" by William and Mary Morris (HarperCollinsPublishers)." - phrases.org.UK

Fortunately, when you have pulled pork instead of a pulled leg, something very different happens. You look very wise indeed, and people are way too busy eating to even think about laughing at you.  Lightheartedly or not.

Carpool Wars: Cease Fire!

WE INTERRUPT OUR NORMALLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING TO BRING YOU THIS IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT.

Anchor:  There has been a startling development in the long-running South of the Boulevard Carpool War hostilities.  For more details, we go live to our reporter on the ground.  Are you there?

Field Reporter:  Indeed, I'm here in Encino, where we have learned that a cease fire has been declared by the warring Carpool Moms.  The impetus for this radical shift in the tenor of the dispute was, I am told by my sources, bacon.

Anchor:  Would that be Kevin Bacon? I had heard that both John Kerry and Hillary Clinton have Bacon Numbers of 2 . Given his relatively close connection to those diplomats, is it possible he was involved?

Reporter:  They are not ruling that out, but for the moment, it appears that regular, smoked bacon is responsible.



Anchor:  Can you give us some background here?  How did things reach this critical juncture?

Reporter:  If you will recall, during the most recent skirmish over the braising title, the combatants vowed to take up their oven mitts again, waistlines and livers be damned. Ensnared by the spatula-wielding women and the promise of yet another outstanding meal, innocent children and husbands chose to remain in the thick of the conflict as well. It certainly seemed that there was no end in sight to this dire situation.  In fact, the stakes were raised even higher when it was suggested by a bystander that the next confrontation be focused, not on a particular dish, like bolognese, steak, or tacos, the type of meal, or even a proscribed preparation method, but on just one, single ingredient.  That ingredient? Bacon.

Anchor:   There is precedent for this on the Food Network, I believe, but that battle is massively edited for television, and they have trained staff with them in the arena. These brave women probably had no idea of the danger they were setting themselves up for.

Reporter:  That's exactly right. The whole plan was fraught with peril.  But, as we know, bacon does exert an uncanny power over the human brain.  Experts now believe that just the idea of a bacon-based meal somehow created a unity of purpose in the minds of these former enemies. Instead of pitting their bacon creations against each other, in an unprecedented step, they agreed to collaborate on the dinner.

Anchor: What about the coveted "taste" prize? This is one of the most divisive issues of the whole campaign, is it not?

Reporter:  Stunningly, that was thrown out completely. There was no vote. I repeat, there was no vote, rigged or otherwise. They just happily stuffed themselves and went home.  I spoke with one of the diners on condition of anonymity, and she said it was a tremendous relief not to feel disloyal for voting against her mother, and also that the bacon potato things were really good. Apparently, the new mantra here at Carpool headquarters is, "Everybody wins when dinner is full of bacon."

Anchor:  Incredible. How long can this cease fire possibly hold?

Reporter:  I have it on good authority that Carpool Wars, as we know it, is no more, but that we can expect many more Carpool Truce dinners in the months and years to come.

Anchor:  I think I speak for all of us when I say, "Phew." Thank you.  We'll be following this story closely, very closely, in case they have leftovers, and will bring you updates as we have them.

THIS HAS BEEN A SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT.



Carpool Wars:  The Bacon Accords

We did, indeed, come together and lay our Le Crueset cookware down for greater glory of an entire meal honoring bacon.  It was a moment for the ages.

The appetizer course was Christy D.'s drool-worthy and addictive Bacon Wrapped Potato Bites with Spicy Sour Cream Dip.  Recipe from The Kitchn.

Christy F.'s tender, smoky bacon-braised chicken dish.   Find the recipe from Fine Cooking here.

Christy D's spectacular BLT salad with Feta, Candied Bacon and Cherry Tomatoes. 

My Mac & Cheese with Bacon, after two teenagers had been through and helped themselves.  

And yes, there was bacon dessert.

Maple Bacon Sugar Cookies 

And the over-the-top Vanilla Ice Cream Sundaes with Pecan Bacon Crunch* and Fleur de Sel Caramel Sauce.

Peace out.

Big Easy Balls*

Thinking of having some souvenir t-shirts made up.  Let me know what size you want.

One good thing about a semi-empty* nest

You can have soup for dinner.

With green stuff in it and everything.

Cook My Mailbox - Weekend V - Part I

As I quoted Steve Martin a while back:  "I can do this act alone.  I often do."  Even when I've taken baby steps towards linking up with other bloggers, it's been totally virtual:  Everybody make tiramisu!  Send a dozen cookies UPS!  Right up my alley. But I've never actually met any other bloggers in real life, at least not intentionally*.  Sure, I'd enviously read posts from conferences and seminars and clubby trips to the Mexican Riviera with cocktails.  Lived vicariously on tours of wine country and retreats with notable luminaries from around the web.  I felt a pang when I saw the groaning tables of food from the community potlucks.  "Maybe, someday, not now of course"...I'd say to my cat, doing my best Steve Martin imitation**.  He'd twitch his tail, then leave me alone at the keyboard again.

But yesterday, that all changed.  It turns out that you can just...go!  And learn stuff***!  And eat really good food and everyone will be nice to you and invite you back the next time. Who knew?

Fine Cooking, that's who.  When I learned that the upcoming meeting of Los Angeles Food Bloggers had a "Soups and Stews" theme, this had just landed on my kitchen table:

If there ever was a time to cook my mailbox and brave a roomful of perfect strangers in the interest of blogger bonding, this was it.

 There really was a groaning table. Our gracious hostess was Kate, from Savour Fare.

 Vintage Cheese Straws, from Leslie of Bake This Cake

 Our hostess' Mushroom Soup with Parmesan 

 My Sausage & Fennel Chowder

 Crusty Oatmeal Bread, from one of the founders of the group, Erika, of In Erika's Kitchen

 Tomato Bisque with Bacon, from Stephen and Art of Latino Foodie

Sampling the Scottish Lentil and Farro Soup, by Christina of Christina's Cucina

I got lucky this time, but maybe everyone is not quite as warm and welcoming as the Los Angeles Food Bloggers.  I'd hate to have gone all the way to Mexico and been shunned, you know?

Baby steps.

Bacon Jam, A Fable

fa·ble/ˈfābəl/

Noun:

A short story, typically with animals as characters, conveying a moral.

Bacon Jam, A Fable

Once upon a time, there was a middle aged Encino housewife Toad who got a mysterious jar in the mail from her friend, Tracy Frog. Toad was very excited about this jar because it had the magic word, "Bacon", written on it.  Toad was right to be excited, because inside the jar was the most amazing treat in the whole wide world:  Bacon Jam.

But Toad was selfish, and did not share the Bacon Jam with any of the other animals in the swamp.  She did not even share the Bacon Jam with Mr. Toad.  She saved it all for herself, hidden in the way back of her fridge.

Then one day, when she went to get just a bit to put onto on her fried egg sandwich, the little jar was gone!  The helpful hedgehog that kept Toad's house clean had thrown it out by mistake.  Toad was  furious.  But the fridge was a lot cleaner and hedgehogs can be prickly, so she held her tongue and bided her time.

Soon enough, Toad went to visit Frog.  Because she was a kind and generous hostess, Frog took Toad to the Skillet Diner, where that astonishing little jar had come from in the first place*, and treated her to lunch.  Naturally, Toad ordered "The Burger" with Bacon Jam, arugula and creamy bleu cheese, and when it came she almost died with happiness, the burger was so delicious.  Instead of offering to split the heavenly burger with her friend Frog, Toad was selfish and gobbled up most of it all by herself.  In fact,  she only gave Frog one tiny little bite. To be polite.

Months passed, but Toad never forgot about the marvelous Bacon Jam.  While she and her colleague Badger were on a business trip in Frog's neck of the woods, she began scheming to herself.  Toad made a sly plan to take Badger to Skillet Diner.  She planned to have The Burger, and to convince Badger to order one of his own, so she would not have to share even a tiny little bite of her meltingly scrumptious Bacon Jam.

Seeing right through her plan, Badger, being a kind, wise, and generous guest, ordered the Ultimate Grilled Cheese with Bacon Jam, because he could see in Toad's greedy little eyes exactly how much she wanted to try that, too.  And when the food came, he let her have the first bite, piping hot and crispy, dripping with cheese and that incredible Bacon Jam.

Toad was profoundly moved, and more than a little ashamed of herself.  She cut her burger in half, and passed one half over to Badger.  Grinning, they each took a bite of the other's dish.  Closing their eyes, they groaned and mumbled with their mouths full:  "Oh. My. GOD.  This stuff is so GOOD!!"

Then they BOTH almost died with happiness.

The End.

The moral of the story is:

Never keep the wonders of Bacon Jam all to yourself.  But if you do, make sure you get to it before the housekeeper does.** 

This little piggie went really well with mashed potatoes

This little piggie went to market.
The other little piggies stayed home and watched SportsCenter.
This little piggie had pork chops.
The other little piggies had some, too, because I am a nice person and couldn't eat an entire platter of meat and potatoes by myself. 
But then I made them watch Chopped instead.

The End.

Carpool Wars: Battle Steak!

FADE IN:

INT.  DINING ROOM - NIGHT

AUTHORITATIVE ANNOUNCER VOICE

Previously, on Carpool Wars...

Overhead shot of dining table littered with large plates covered with remnants of various pasta dishes, a few scattered pieces of blueberry pie with ice cream melting in places, and several EMPTY WINE BOTTLES.  A group of adults, clearly completely stuffed and showing the effects of the wine, are leaning back in their chairs, rubbing their bloated bellies with happiness.

MY HUSBAND

Ribs?

THE CARPOOL MOMS

(Raising glasses to toast)

You're on!

FADE TO:
INT.  KITCHEN - EVENING
Quick montage of Battle Ribs! with properly dramatic, pulse-pounding soundtrack in the background.  Use clever editing to make people feel this has happened just last week, despite the fact that this particular battle happened in November*.

AUTHORITATIVE ANNOUNCER VOICE

Three battles in.  A brand new driver in the mix**.   The most exciting Mom-on-Mom cooking competition in America hits a whole new level of fierceness tonight.  Who will win the coveted "Taste" prize?  Stay tuned.  
It's CARPOOL WARS:  BATTLE STEAK!

EXT.  MY CAR - LATE AFTERNOON
Overhead shot. We see the car turning a corner and overhear the conversation.

MY SON

What do you want to bet that Cindy doesn't even make a real steak? 

MY DAUGHTER

Yeah, she'll probably make, like, duck, and call it steak.  Like the fish burgers.  

ME

Or she could be making steak tartare...

..
A chorus of "Ews!" ensues, along with laughter.  MY HUSBAND looks worried.  I look calm but am secretly dismayed, because I know she will be making a real steak, and I am in trouble.

INT.  KITCHEN - EVENING
Close ups of succulent steaks. We hear CARPOOL MOMS murmuring in the background about their personal relationships with various butchers.  Smack talk all around**.

Christy D's two-inch thick NY steaks from a butcher that sells to the top restaurants in LA, basking in a balsamic-shallot-olive oil marinade.

Cindy's even thicker bone-in rib eyes, with her special skillet, artisan salts, and other spices.  Also bone marrow to be roasted alongside.  (The kids were a tiny bit right)

A clever entry from the new Christy: Flank steak marinated in a vibrant chimichurri sauce.  She's a ringer!

CUT TO:
Sizzling everywhere.  Tantalizing smells are coming from the stove top, the oven and the grill. The guacamole has been demolished, the baked potato bar is being set up, and THE CARPOOL MOMS are well through the white wine and on to the red.

 

PAN TO:
Platters of steak, laid out for the JUDGES to take the first pass through.

 

The judges are pleased.

The grilled balsamic NY steaks, with a decadent peppercorn cream sauce

The rib eye - finished in the oven with the marrow bones, a little thyme, and butter

The INSTIGATOR, enjoying the results of his diabolical plan (and the lack of steak tartare)

The votes come in, including a new category "Tenderness", added perhaps in a kind gesture to my steak, which was completely outclassed in every aspect but this one.

The WINNER for best tasting steak savors her victory by jumping up and down and screaming for joy****.  The OTHER MOMS are outwardly happy for her, each having won a category themselves*****, but we know better.  They waste no time in throwing down the gauntlet.

AUTHORITATIVE ANNOUNCER VOICE

Don't miss the next exciting CARPOOL WARS: Battle Brunch!

FADE OUT.