Things I Ripped Out of Food Magazines Today:
*Mini-booklet of 50 Pizzas- Food Network Mar 2010
*"Sharpen Your Skills" FN Oct 2009 (How to dice onion, segment an orange, butcher a chicken, and filet a fish)
*"Green Apple-Sourdough Pancakes" FN Mar 2010
*"Cone of Plenty" FN Nov 2009 (Sweet spiced nuts served in a waffle cone)
*An advertisement for Glidden paint (Fresh Hyacinth and Black Tulip)
*"Buckwheat Crepes" FN Dec 2009 (Citris Shrimp, Sauteed Spinach, Sweet Onion, and Creamy Mushroom fillings)
*"Fennel-Cabbage Slaw" FN Jan/Feb 2010 (Same page, "Balsamic Glazed Squash" (acorn))
*"On the Road" FN June/July 2009 (1950's camper as food truck selling snow cones)
*"Making Classic Hollandaise" Cuisine At Home April 2010
*"Gateau Basque" Cuisine At Home Feb 2010 (Classic pastry, Italian cookie type crust w/ pastry creme)
*"Tart, Tasty Sourdough" Cuisine At Home Feb 2010
I just wanted to let you know that I considered using proper MLA citation for all of these, but as it's a No Pants Day... well, you can probably see where I'm going with that.
Nowhere, because I'm lazy.
There is something very therapeutic for me about ripping pages out of magazines. I have a folder over an inch thick of food recipes and articles. I have boxes of pictures from piles of magazines about graphic design and photography that my mother unloaded on me a few years ago. I have forty some-odd food and science magazines in my bookshelves, some for years, just waiting for a day when I have a few hours free.
School starts this week, as does training. They will just have to wait some more.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Oh, ho, ho, I lie.
Remember last time when I said I was gonna run a half marathon? Guess what I did instead.
I bought cigarettes.
I know, I know, shut up. That's not what I'm here to talk about.
Let's talk about burgers. I am at Hawethorne's tonight, which has an amazing selection of beers. Tonight I am drinking Boulder Beer's Obovoid, an oak-aged oatmeal stout. The super tattooed guy who checked me out (aww, yeahhh) said, "This is perfect for burgers," and because I am very susceptible to suggestion, and I was hungry, I ordered one.
PS, "burger" is my safe word.
PPS, did you know that they used to call it the "everyday steak"? True story.
It comes on a toasted brioche bun with aged gouda (3 years old! like eating babies, if said babies were made of cheese). Usually it comes with fries (the best thing here, not counting beer and cute guys), but I opted for a salad because... well, because I have been eating shit for two weeks and I thought it would offset four beers and a burger.
...
Again, shut up. My logic is sound. ("I can hear the ocean...!")
ANYWAY, stop interrupting kthx, I ordered my burger medium-rare, like I always do. And while it was a good burger in many respects (a decent 1/2" thick, brioche bun was excellent), it was definitely not medium rare. It's a fine line, but it makes a difference.
This is a picture of a delicious looking medium rare burger, which I *ahem* borrowed from Philly Phoodies's review of Sketch Burger*:
Do you see the four layers of meat cook-ed-ness? Seared, caramelized meat "crust"; thin, well done layer for meaty toothsomeness**; thicker layer of pinkish, juicy stuff; reddish-pink rabbit punch to the base of the brain*** of pure cow flavor. I am more than full (and a little drunk), and it is still making me salivate.
Man, I love burgers. And beer.
Off to bed with me now! Good night!
* They can't get mad if I promote them, can they?
** I might be making up words.
***Correctly guess this quote and I will buy you a beer...
I bought cigarettes.
I know, I know, shut up. That's not what I'm here to talk about.
Let's talk about burgers. I am at Hawethorne's tonight, which has an amazing selection of beers. Tonight I am drinking Boulder Beer's Obovoid, an oak-aged oatmeal stout. The super tattooed guy who checked me out (aww, yeahhh) said, "This is perfect for burgers," and because I am very susceptible to suggestion, and I was hungry, I ordered one.
PS, "burger" is my safe word.
PPS, did you know that they used to call it the "everyday steak"? True story.
It comes on a toasted brioche bun with aged gouda (3 years old! like eating babies, if said babies were made of cheese). Usually it comes with fries (the best thing here, not counting beer and cute guys), but I opted for a salad because... well, because I have been eating shit for two weeks and I thought it would offset four beers and a burger.
...
Again, shut up. My logic is sound. ("I can hear the ocean...!")
ANYWAY, stop interrupting kthx, I ordered my burger medium-rare, like I always do. And while it was a good burger in many respects (a decent 1/2" thick, brioche bun was excellent), it was definitely not medium rare. It's a fine line, but it makes a difference.
This is a picture of a delicious looking medium rare burger, which I *ahem* borrowed from Philly Phoodies's review of Sketch Burger*:
Do you see the four layers of meat cook-ed-ness? Seared, caramelized meat "crust"; thin, well done layer for meaty toothsomeness**; thicker layer of pinkish, juicy stuff; reddish-pink rabbit punch to the base of the brain*** of pure cow flavor. I am more than full (and a little drunk), and it is still making me salivate.
Man, I love burgers. And beer.
Off to bed with me now! Good night!
* They can't get mad if I promote them, can they?
** I might be making up words.
***Correctly guess this quote and I will buy you a beer...
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Three night bender
I should be writing for you more, however my personal life is such that, at the moment, I spend most of my free time drinking. I just finished a three night bender. I drank A LOT. And I say "night" but save Monday they all started sort of midday. From what I understand, that's how these things go*. But I'm really not here to talk about that, because I have talked about drinking in every post, and while it's a highly prevalent topic in my life, I'd like for this to be about more than just that.
And so I've decided to run a half marathon.
* It's my first(!), and while I'd usually say, "BANG! New synapse!" to a new event, I feel like I killed possibly several hundred neurons, thus negating it. Easy come, easy go.
And so I've decided to run a half marathon.
* It's my first(!), and while I'd usually say, "BANG! New synapse!" to a new event, I feel like I killed possibly several hundred neurons, thus negating it. Easy come, easy go.
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