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half a pound of ground meat, with taco mix and jalapeno bits in the meat itself. First pass on the pan with butter and finished off in the oven. Salsa and shredded cheese on top for the last minutes.
Brioche bread cooked face down on a pan coated with olive oil, salt and pepper. Gives it a nice crunch.
Walnut mushrooms cooked in butter and garlic.
thick sliced bacon finished off with a few drops of maple syrup in the end.
A couple of slices of dense peppered cheese and mayo on the bottom.
One fried egg
I am currently comatose on the sofa not able to move
A good friend of mine, now retired, is presently on a cruise around the world. (Literally, they will return to their point of origin, having circumnavigated the entire globe.)
Hal is not an adventurous eater, though his wife is, and he knows of my tastes. Given the rather limited internet service available on-board, he has taken to taunting me mercilessly:
Hawaii:
Singapore:
Hong Kong:
India:
Jordan:
Greece:
(I've omitted many others.)
To say that I am merely envious only reflects the inadequacies of the English language. His wife is already compiling a list of places they need to return to for a longer duration, based solely upon the cuisine.
Serious suggestion:
In major cities, bus tours are available in which you can hope off at any point, stay as long as you wish at any spot, and hop onto the next available bus when you're ready to move on. This concept must be extended to the cruise industry before I retire.
In major cities, bus tours are available in which you can hope off at any point, stay as long as you wish at any spot, and hop onto the next available bus when you're ready to move on. This concept must be extended to the cruise industry before I retire.
That's called "A bus pass"
Seriously, just get a decent guide book printed within a year of your trip. Or a Michelin guide. Or both. Get fat on awesome food... like Bibendum.
you wanna how im getting fat? I currently have reservations to and/or planning: Bouchon, French Laundry, Bottega, Redd, Lucy Restaurant, El Dorado Kitchen, Girl & the Fig, Cafe la Haye, Auberge du Soleil, Brix, Torc
In my ongoing quest to own and maintain the perfect chef's knife, I finally bought a proper honing steel recently:
Well, not a "steel" per se, as it's made from ceramic. I decided on this one on the basis of many positive reviews, and have been using it for about a month. Took a while to get the technique down, but I can swing it like Julia Child now. A few swipes before every use, and my blade is a tool of unimaginable precision. The knife falls like panties on prom night. It's not often you find a product on Amazon with a solid five-star rating after 61 reviews, but this sucker deserves it:
As usual, thanks to @mgeoffriau for suggesting what has turned out to be an amazing knife. I literally* cannot say enough good things about the Victorinox 8 Inch Fibrox Pro.
* = figuratively, not literally.
Thing the Second:
That's my face after having improvised a sauce of apricot jam, horseradish (the real deal) and spicy mustard, to put lightly atop tilapia which I'd dusted in cornflower, then dredged through egg, before coating in a mix of coconut flakes and Cajun spice and then pan-frying. This is literally* one of the best things I have ever tasted. Tilapia is officially the new salmon in my kitchen.
* = literally, not figuratively.
(Shown before application of apricot-horseradish-mustard blend)
Thing the Third:
Treat yourself. Splurge. Buy the expensive stir-fry oil from Japan. It's good for more than just stir-fry. Just remember to disable the smoke alarm first.
fun fact: it also happens to be taylor swift's fav.
Had to Google who Taylor Swift was. Not impressed. Can't say why, she just doesn't do it for me.
In the past, I've resisted the urge to use ingredients with fancy French names like crème fraîche (yes, I know, ironic given my idol-worship of Julia Child) but the capers, shallots, and mustard in this dish tempt me.
As usual, thanks to @mgeoffriau for suggesting what has turned out to be an amazing knife. I literally* cannot say enough good things about the Victorinox 8 Inch Fibrox Pro.
* = figuratively, not literally.
SETTING: A quiet courtroom. A tall, goateed man wearing a Hawaiian shirt sits behind the prosecuting attorney. The tall man is bandaged and clearly in pain, but sits proudly upright. The judge motions to the clerk to bring the jurors into the courtroom. Moments later, a U.S. Marshal enters with a man of average height and nondescript appearance save for a long, wavy scar that runs from ear to ear. This man is wearing a prison jumpsuit and his wrists and ankles are shackled.
JUDGE: Has the jury reached a verdict?
JURY FOREMAN: We have, your honor.
The judge motions to the clerk, who retrieves the verdict from the foreman, and hands it to the judge. The judge reads a moment, looks up, and then hands the verdict back to the clerk, who returns it to the foreman.
JUDGE: Foreman, please read the verdict.
JURY FOREMAN: On the charge of aggravated assault, the jury finds the defendant guilty. On the charge of arson, the jury finds the defendant guilty. On the charge of kidnapping, the jury finds the defendant guilty.
The courtroom explodes in noise. The tall man's shoulders begin to shake, and then heave as he sobs openly. The sound of the judge's gavel breaks through the din. As quiet returns, the judge looks down at the tall, bandaged man in the Hawaiian shirt.
Judge: You have shown great courage in appearing here to face your tormentor. Before the defendant is removed from the courtroom, do you have a prepared statement you wish to read?
The tall man collects himself, removes his glasses and wipes his eyes. He slowly and painfully stands to his full height. He glances down at a sheet of paper in his hand, then looks up to stare the defendant down.
MR. PEREZ: Thank you for recommending the Victorinox 8 Inch Fibrox Pro Chef's Knife, Mr. Geoffriau.
SETTING: A quiet courtroom. A tall, goateed man wearing a Hawaiian shirt sits behind the prosecuting attorney. The tall man is bandaged and clearly in pain, but sits proudly upright. The judge motions to the clerk to bring the jurors into the courtroom. Moments later, a U.S. Marshal enters with a man of average height and nondescript appearance save for a long, wavy scar that runs from ear to ear. This man is wearing a prison jumpsuit and his wrists and ankles are shackled.
JUDGE: Has the jury reached a verdict?
JURY FOREMAN: We have, your honor.
The judge motions to the clerk, who retrieves the verdict from the foreman, and hands it to the judge. The judge reads a moment, looks up, and then hands the verdict back to the clerk, who returns it to the foreman.
JUDGE: Foreman, please read the verdict.
JURY FOREMAN: On the charge of aggravated assault, the jury finds the defendant guilty. On the charge of arson, the jury finds the defendant guilty. On the charge of kidnapping, the jury finds the defendant guilty.
The courtroom explodes in noise. The tall man's shoulders begin to shake, and then heave as he sobs openly. The sound of the judge's gavel breaks through the din. As quiet returns, the judge looks down at the tall, bandaged man in the Hawaiian shirt.
Judge: You have shown great courage in appearing here to face your tormentor. Before the defendant is removed from the courtroom, do you have a prepared statement you wish to read?
The tall man collects himself, removes his glasses and wipes his eyes. He slowly and painfully stands to his full height. He glances down at a sheet of paper in his hand, then looks up to stare the defendant down.
MR. PEREZ: Thank you for recommending the Victorinox 8 Inch Fibrox Pro Chef's Knife, Mr. Geoffriau.
The fellow in the front of me in line at the supermarket, while not morbidly obese, was definitely overweight. He looked to be about my age, and was well-dressed (nice shirt, clean, pressed slacks, handsome shoes, fresh haircut, simple but elegant watch.) His appearance was that of someone with a management / executive level job in a professional office environment. No wedding band. Here's his take for the day:
Two cans of Pringles, a tub of French-onion dip, a box of candy, a tube of that frozen cinnamon-roll dough that you spread out on a sheet and bake (with cream cheese frosting), two boxes of Cheez-its, a "Party Size!" bag of Cheetoes, two frozen pizzas, and, of course, the obligatory four-pack of diet root beer.
Seeing this kind of behavior in what, from outward appearances seems to be a mature, well-educated person, honestly turns my stomach. That's a reality-TV level of disgustingness right there... I made sure that he saw me taking that second photo of his shopping behavior. Didn't say a word.
The fellow in the front of me in line at the supermarket, while not morbidly obese, was definitely overweight. He looked to be about my age, and was well-dressed (nice shirt, clean, pressed slacks, handsome shoes, fresh haircut, simple but elegant watch.) His appearance was that of someone with a management / executive level job in a professional office environment. No wedding band. Here's his take for the day:
Two cans of Pringles, a tub of French-onion dip, a box of candy, a tube of that frozen cinnamon-roll dough that you spread out on a sheet and bake (with cream cheese frosting), two boxes of Cheez-its, a "Party Size!" bag of Cheetoes, two frozen pizzas, and, of course, the obligatory four-pack of diet root beer.
Seeing this kind of behavior in what, from outward appearances seems to be a mature, well-educated person, honestly turns my stomach. That's a reality-TV level of disgustingness right there... I made sure that he saw me taking that second photo of his shopping behavior. Didn't say a word.
Meh... no worries, he'll be a statistic by the time he's 49 and life goes on. Nature's way of culling the herd...
Meh... no worries, he'll be a statisticparasitic drain on the healthcare system by the time he's 49 and life goes on.
I went ahead and fixed that for you.
The reality is that this guy probably has an excellent health insurance plan provided by his employer, can easily afford whatever deductibles / co-insurance he's faced with, and has just generally never had the strength of character to take any sort of personal responsibility for anything. Our wonderful healthcare system will happily keep him just alive enough to keep racking up the billables, while doing nothing to seriously address the root-cause of his problems beyond a cursory "You know, you really should eat better" towards the end of every appointment.
Don't get me wrong, here. When I was in college 20 years ago, I ate like a friggin' college student. That was in the day of the 49¢ bean burrito at Taco Bell, and between those and store-brand frosted corn flakes, that was about 50% of my dietary intake. And those habits stayed with me for a long while.
Then one day I realized that I weighed 225 lbs. It was the day I posted an elaborately-staged photo (using a tripod) of myself, holding aloft in vise-grips a particularly stubborn bolt (or stud, or something) which I'd just extracted from under the hood of my '92, with a celebratory cigar. And I thought "God, I am ******* fat."
It took a while to really make any progress towards fixing that, and I'm still not totally there, but I am down to 185 lbs which, at 6'2", puts me just barely inside the "healthy" side of the standard BMI chart. I've also discovered the joy of cooking, and learned that some of the best-tasting food I've ever eaten has also been the healthiest, and nearly all of it has come out of my extremely modest kitchen.
03-30-2017, 09:51 AM
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