Bono!

I was just sitting outside of Jake's art gallery, minding my own bid'nith and then boom! Bono walks by. We started talking, I got a picture with him and found out that he loves Lawrence! AWESOME.

Hello again!

I am here to announce that as of today, I am rekindling my on-again, off-again relationship with Foodie Newbie. I am not really sure what happened back in December, but I guess it is safe to say things just sort of fizzled between us. Now that I am off to bigger and better things as an intern in Ireland, I have the urge to inform FN of the great things in my life and hopefully make some much needed amends.
So for the first of many more to come...

Boeuf Bourguignon

Finals week at KU. Et tu bru-tal. I will keep this one cryptic, to accurately reflect my mood. With three finals down, and two more to go all within the span of 72 hours, it is safe to say that I have not been doing much cooking. I did attempt JC's famed relic, Boeuf Bourguignon, slow cooker style--I know a sin to say the least--and have been eating it for the last four days. I am relying on this dish and advice from Tween Pop Sensation and American Middle-School Icon Taylor Swift to keep me nutritionally sustained and keeping me from fleeing my little college town of Lawrence, Kansas, in search of safer harbors.
You are laughing, I know, but little teeny-bopping TS recognizes the wonders of Lawrence, Kansas, proving that she is just as smart as the rest of us liberal, anti-country college grads.


Slow Cooker Boeuf Bourguignon:


Boeuf Bourguignon

6 Strips bacon -- cut in 1/2" pieces
3 pounds Beef rump or chuck -- cut 1. 5" cubes
1 medium Carrot -- sliced
1 small Onion -- sliced
Salt & pepper to taste
3 tablespoons Flour
1 can Condensed beef broth -- (10oz)
1 tablespoon Tomato paste
2 cloves garlic -- minced
3/4 teaspoon Whole thyme
1 Bay leaf
1/2 pound Tiny white onions
1 pound Fresh mushrooms -- sliced
2 tablespoons Butter
1/2 cup Red or burgundy wine

Thickener:
3 tablespoons Flour
3 tablespoons Melted butter or margarine


Cook bacon in large skillet until crisp. Remove and drain. Add beef cubes and brown well. Place browned beef in 3 1/2-quart slow cooker. Brown carrot and onion. Season with salt and pepper; stir in flour. Add broth, mix well and add to slow cooker. Add cooked bacon, tomato paste, garlic, thyme, bay leaf and onions. Cover and cook on Low 8-10 hours.

One hour before serving: Sauté mushrooms in butter and add, with wine, to slow cooker.

Thicken gravy with flour combined with melted butter or margarine. Stir into stew and cook on High until thickened.

I'm Sorry!

Okay, so I now it has been FOREVER since I have blogged, and forever is magnified in the blogosphere, so having totally committed a web-based social faux pas of the rankest kind, I am easing my way back into your good graces. I will have you know that despite my absence on the Internet, I have still been cooking. This was actually quite surprising for myself, even, because as I have always loved writing, and this cooking thing is a new-found obsession. It is an obsession that I figured would surely die out just like my short stint with Jnco Jeans back in the 5th grade and that time I made my dad convert part of our attic into an "Art Room" to go untouched to this day and for the entirety of its ten year existence. So tonight I will not be providing you with a recipe and a story about my day, but rather I will share with you my latest obsession. Joni Mitchell's "River." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xCov0TYXBp8

This song is heart wrenchingly depressing and never ceases to make my throat ache. These songs are rare, and so when you come across one, I think it should be given proper recognition. It's coming on Christmas They're cutting down trees They're putting up reindeer And singing songs of joy and peace Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on But it don't snow here It stays pretty green I'm going to make a lot of money Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene I wish I had a river I could skate away on I wish I had a river so long I would teach my feet to fly Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on I made my baby cry He tried hard to help me You know, he put me at ease And he loved me so naughty Made me weak in the knees Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on I'm so hard to handle I'm selfish and I'm sad Now I've gone and lost the best baby That I ever had Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on I wish I had a river so long I would teach my feet to fly Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on I made my baby say goodbye It's coming on Christmas They're cutting down trees They're putting up reindeer And singing songs of joy and peace I wish I had a river I could skate away on

Creamy Tomato and Gorgonzola Soup

Holy shizz. So remember a couple years ago when it became legally mandatory to post all of the sex offenders in a national sex offender registry? And it was like all the rage after an evening of watching How to Catch a Predator, to sit down with your loved ones and look up all of the sex offenders in your town, and to your horror, you'd find your mailman of 23 years, Gil, or Aunt Millie's wrinkled mug staring you in the face? You'd keep your fingers crossed hoping that it was only for taking a freak-a-leak behind the shed after three too many beers at the annual Labor Day picnic, but inside you were never quite sure? You were left wondering what your neighbors were doing in their spare time? Yeah, those were the good ole days...
Well I had the pleasure of reliving this great period in American history, just the other night, when I found myself asking "Do we ever really know our neighbors?" The answer to this, my friend, is not blowing in the wind. The answer, my friend, is NO. And so it begins...
Last week, my brother bought a treadmill off of Craigslist. This should have been my first clue that the night was going to be interesting. The word "Craigslist" alone is synonymous with weird. Like weird weird. Like the weird you only find in college dorm rooms. Like Bubble Boy weird. Anyway, you get the picture. Craigslist lived up to its reputation.

We drove up to the seller's house, (a frighteningly short drive), and Mr. Craig was waiting for us... Outside...
Before we even get to introductions,I can tell this guy is going to be awesome. Clad in a casual pair of distressed jeans, a screen printed t-shirt that said "affliction," this guy was nothing short of Leawood's John Gosselin. His outfit, coupled with his balding dome, had me feeling mortified for his children, and I sure as hell hope this doucher hasn't fathered eight of them.
He introduces himself as"Mike," which is also my brother's name and although I didn't know it then, served as the first of many comparisons he would make between the two of them.
We go downstairs to find the treadmill and my brother, Michael, attempts to make small talk. He is brilliant with small talk, a genetic gift he has inherited from my mother. However, I would not really call what unfolded before our eyes "small."In fact, Michael and I discovered some rather big issues about this man.

Michael: "This looks like a really nice treadmill."

Mike: "Yeah, that's not the only nice thing I'm getting rid of. I have got multiple huge flat screen t.v.'s, this massive house, and a portable,indoor sauna."

SMALL TALK TRANSLATION: I am a big loser. Let me attempt to impress you with these material goods, I have collected over the years.

Michael: "Oh cool. Well should we start to move this thing up the stairs?"
SMALL TALK TRANSLATION: Oh wow, this could be a long evening. Best to start it and get it over with.

Mike:"Yeah,yeah. You should move down to the light end and I will get the front."
SMALL TALK TRANSLATION: I feel threatened by your youth, and want to prove to you that I can still do things.

Michael: "Are you sure? I don't mind..."
STT: Please do not sue me when you herniate some discs mid-heart attack as you try to hold this thing
Mike: "No, no. I still got it. I look pretty good for my age, don't you think?"
STT: VALIDATION. NOW.

So they start to move this gigantic awkwardly shaped excuse for a good idea down the hallway and up the stairs when things start to get tense.My brother Michael is at the bottom of the stairs holding the majority of the weight while Mike is struggling mid staircase. Mike's face is getting very red. Mike's veins are starting to pulse. I am starting to have visions of this massive thing slip from Mike's grip, joy ride its way down the stairs, just shortly before crushing every bone in my eldest brother's body, having met his demise in his twenties on the carpet of this randomaniac's home. NOT GOOD.

Michael: "Is everything okay? Do you want to take a break?"
Mike: "No man, I got it. I'm just going to tie one end of this rope I found around the treadmill and the other around my neck..."

WHAT???!?!!!!??
So he is going to strangle himself before killing my brother? AWESOME.

So Mike, now wearing a leash, insists that he is okay and continues this Everest-esque trip up the stairs.

Then the thing gets stuck in the door frame. (A problem my brother brought up an hour earlier, which Mike brushed off...)
This is when things get interesting. Mike, who has taken to calling me "Les," now insists that I maneuver my way up the stairs, between them and the treadmill and start to unscrew the whole damn thing. I begrudgingly obey, we get the thing through the door and we are that much closer to having survived one of the scarier nights of our lives. Or so I thought. After we have the whole machine loaded into my brother's car- which nearly broke during the process, Michael is called back into Mike's house to look at pictures of his Russian girlfriend that Mike has printed off from the internet.

Mike: "Look at her! She is just average over there! Average!"
Michael: "Uh huh...wow..."
STT: maybe the less I say the faster I will be out of here?

Anyway, to make a long story somewhat shorter, I will just say we made it out alive, having learned quite a bit and grown as individuals. Incredible experience to say the least.
After returning to Michael's house I made a delicous creamy tomato and gorgonzola soup. The foodie connection to this whole story is that if you decide to make this soup, in all of its fiery red glory, just know that its color was the same as old man Mike's face when trudging up the stairs.

Ingredients:
Tomato juice
1 can tomatoes-any way you like
1 red pepper
1 onion
some garlic
gorgonzola cheese
some cream cheese
some heavy cream or milk

Saute garlic, onion and red pepper until onion is translucent. Pour in tomatoes and juice and bring to a simmer. Slowly add cheeses and stir to blend. When soup looks nice and blended add the milk. Serve with a grilled cheese or some crusty bread and indulge.

Crepes

Yesterday, when I got back from class, I had a strong craving for crepes. I also had quite a few potatoes lying around that I wanted to use up. So, naturally, I googled the two items, hoping to find a recipe for savory crepes with a potato filling. I have had great experiences with this technique in the past, and my heart swelled with excitement as I waited to see what google would produce for me. Milliseconds later, however, I had recipe after recipe for "Potato Crepes," but no potato filling in sight. As I read on, I began to come around to the idea of a crepe made entirely out of potato, egg, salt and pepper. I began to think I might give this a whirl. What's wrong with an Idahoian spin on an old French classic?

With the naivete of Little Red Riding Hood, I went ahead and began the dish, blissfully ignorant of the Big Bad Fried Potato Mess of a Wolf that was hiding in my ingredients.

So I washed, peeled, and sliced four whole potatoes, added an egg, some salt and pepper and through it on the skillet.

First of all, whoever thought that little pieces of potato could actually stick together and form a cohesive whole, was an idiot. This, literal "hott mess," looked nothing like a crepe, resembling instead some fake brain mass I would have stuck my hand into at a fourth grade Halloween party. This should have been my first clue that something was off.

After six very long minutes, I began to "flip," the "crepe." Hah. By that, I mean that I began to fling little burned, yet somehow still undercooked sections of shredded potato out of the skillet and all over the kitchen. AWESOME. That was the end of that.

Needless to say, the "Potato Crepe" is a total hoax, completely on par with that Bubble Boy crap, and a lawsuit against the chef, (who I am now calling The Potato Creep),would not be out of the question.

Damn Internet.

One massive burned potato mash later, I collected myself, regained my composure, and began to make the classic savory crepe that I had wanted all along. Realizing that the ingredients to a regular crepe are quite simple and more importantly, normal, I took another stab at it and was quite satisfied with the end results.

Smoked Salmon with Creme Fraiche and Capers Crepe

Papa al Pomodoro with Portabellos

My boyfriend and I made this one day over my fall break when my Oma came over for lunch. Upon seeing the two of us cooking, she promptly commented "Ahh! It iz so nice to see romaahnce in dee kitchen!"

I blushed like a red-headed seventh grader at a boy-girl party with poop on my shoe.

* 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, 3 turns of the pan, plus some for drizzling
* 4 to 6 cloves garlic, chopped
* 1 medium to large onion, finely chopped
* 1 (15-ounce) can diced tomatoes
* 1 (28-ounce) can crushed tomatoes
* Salt and pepper
* 1 quart chicken stock
* 4 cups, about 1/2 pound, chopped or torn stale bread
* 2 (15-ounce) cans small white beans, such as Goya brand (smaller than cannellini beans)
* 1/2 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano to pass at table
* 10 fresh basil leaves, torn, optional
*Pesto
*Prosciutto

Directions

Heat a medium soup pot over medium heat. Add 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, garlic and 3/4 of the onion. Cook 7 to 8 minutes, then add tomatoes and crushed tomatoes and season with salt and pepper. Add stock and raise heat to make the soup bubble. Reduce heat to simmer and add bread and beans. Stir soup as it simmers until it thickens to a stew-like consistency. Turn off heat, adjust seasonings and ladle into shallow bowls. Top with grated cheese, prosciutto, an additional drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil or pesto and a spoonful of reserved finely chopped raw onions. Torn basil is an optional garnish.