Sunday Suppers: Sausage for one

Hmm, something about the post title makes me think there may be some dirty innuendo which I'll later regret...but never-you-mind—there's ketchup to be discussed!

Since a) the dogre is away at work and b) I haven't been obsessively lurking around the internet for food pornography, I "resorted" to my childhood comfort food of ketchup, sausage, rice, and a pile of kimchi. Now, just as much as devouring books and following Melrose Place, 90210, and Jerry Springer were my childhood staples, so too was ketchup. Ketchup, really, is my taste buds' best friend. Also, you'd think I'd be embarrassed to disclose what was on my tv roster during my elementary and junior high years but, I'm not. It shaped me into the wonderfully wholesome lady that I am today (hehe). Side note: I was seriously craving Korean food and because I lacked a) the ingredients and b) the skills to fulfill said cravings, my heart was brimming with love for the dogre's mom for providing the homemade kimchi.

I'm reluctant to admit that Sunday Suppers may fall apart and turn into Shoddy Sunday Suppers: A snapshot of what we threw together. But, since I'm cheating my tastebuds (not really, are you kidding me? partay in my mouth!) and my avid readers of a journey to discovering delectable dishes (yet another alliteration bitty, I'm on a roll!), I'll toss in a photo of my (first) banana bread. Adding a little pizazz for those of you who don't share my soft spot for ketchup-y sausages and pickled cabbage. Although, I surely hope there are none of those here on my blog because you could never ever be my friend then! Just get out of here. Now! Before I throw down! Joking- I wanted an excuse to use that..."throw down"... Heh, saying it excites me. I'LL THROW DOWN!

So, voila ici, banana bread with my friend Martha, adding 1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips and subtracting 1/2 tsp of vanilla. Seriously though, avid reader, where is my Kitchenaid stand mixer? Do you know how painful it was to cream the butter and sugar with my own measly arm power and a rice cooker ladle? Do you?! I don't suppose you do since you let me endure such pains. Guess what though: you lose, friend, you lose! Yeah, because I creamed that bowl of delicious wonder and successfully baked the loaf.

My mind wandered back to the magic that is called ketchup. I can't believe I never googled it until tonight (shame on me) and in case there are any other sinners out there, I want to encourage you to click here for all things red and delicious.

Okay, my friends on Wisteria Lane will soon beckon and I need to tidy up and air out the fermented cabbage stink before I settle in. Good day!

Here, some more food porn to last you through a gloomy Monday.

And this, which I accidentally created but it makes me feel super artsy and mysterious. I'll let you use it as your desktop wallpaper. I know you want to. Go ahead.

Sunday Suppers: Crunchy "Pork Chops"

Remember last week when I mentioned a struggle at the supermarket? Well it was worth it! On my pork chop hunt, after staring at the meat section for a good fifteen minutes noting variations of the name pork chop but no PORK CHOP (I told you I was new to this), I gave up and walked away with the freshest looking and tastiest sounding cut: pork rib eye steak. 

Tonight: Crunchy Pork Chops (Nigella Lawson) and Smokin' Red Roasted Potatoes (Cathy from the Noble Pig). After reading about Nigella's food pornography and seeing proof here, I was eager to try a dish of hers. She didn't let me down. I did expect stronger flavours from her but the chops still came out crispy with a nice mild flavour. As for the potatoes, I mistakenly thought the asterisks indicated optional ingredients. I was wrong. But, they were still hearty and buttery...and I do love me some butter! All in all, a long time in the kitchen but left very satiated.

As feared, my journey to becoming a cooking enthusiast and domestic superstar has lost a little steam. I don't know how people do this on a daily basis! All that energy and time spent ogling recipes and pictures, the planning, shopping, prepping, and cooking—I'm tired! On the other hand, my joy of baking hasn't plateaued. More on that next time. We're on a classic movies + baking marathon. Just finished up Annie Hall, which I loved, and now onto The Philadelphia Story, which I'm really not enjoying...

Hope you had a relaxing weekend!

Sunday Suppers: PASTA PIE. That's Amore~

I hate grocery shopping. I hate it as much as I despise bra and jean shopping. All three leave me very confused and sweaty! When I find a bra that fits well, I'll buy two or three. I'll alternate between two pairs of jeans until they wear out to the point that I'm walking around campus unaware that there's a tear in the bum and my sexy granny panties are on display. True story. I'd wear leggings more often but they make me gassy.

So, the dogre usually leaves me at home. If I join him, I tend to drag my feet, grab at cheese loaves, and complain within 5 minutes of entering the store.  Also, I have a problem with big, open space: they make me want to go poop. Take me to Loblaws, Winners, or a library and the urge will hit me. I spent 15 minutes looking for pork chops today, chanting to myself, "I don't need to poop, I don't need to poop, I don't need to poop!" More on that next week (pork chops, not bowel movements).

Tonight's dinner, the Noble Pig's Pasta Pie, with changes. Into the meat sauce went the zucchini, onion and cayenne pepper. Actually, calling it meat sauce would be a stretch. It was more like soup! Was I not suppose to add the whole content of the tomato can? Should I have drained it first? Lots of confusion - I ended up draining the pot and adding tomato sauce. One other thing, my rigatoni was too narrow. Attempting to stuff each tube with meat: fail. No matter, all that cheese made it glorious! My guests (the dogre and finnigan) were impressed. Made me feel like a superstar. To make the mozzarella so awesome, I set the oven to broil for the last 3 minutes, browning it just so. Mmmm- Take a looksies. I love cheese...Love, love love~ If you're also a cheese-lover, you need to click the images for a closeup. You'll heart will skip a beat.

For appetizers (meant to accompany the pasta but we were too hungry to wait) we had bocconcini, tomatoes, and baby arugula, drizzled with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and black pepper (oh whoops, forgot to add black pepper).

 





Onto dessert. Last night I had a hankering for a Kitchen workout. I knew we had super ripe raspberries in the fridge and lots of rolled oats so I googled a recipe. Can I just say, I love how spontaneous this was, and the fact that I already had the ingredients, unplanned. I'm a domestic superstar, really.  Raspberry oatmeal squares. Looks nothing like the photo on the website and I only used 3/4 cup of raspberry jam, but it's still tasty! Didn't end up using the raspberries. Poor, neglected raspberries...

...Or maybe not! They went into the iced water, along with lemon slices and clementine. I'm a superstar, remember? Did you think I'd serve plain water? How insulting. I like to drink lemon water when I'm sitting at home, in my flannel pants and frosh week tee (from 2003). Makes me feel classy.

Next week: Nigella's Crunchy Pork Chops with Cathy's Roasted Potatoes!

Sunday Suppers: Pasta with Brie, Mushrooms, Pancetta, & Arugula

I've noticed how some bloggers designate topics for each day of the week. I'm going to copy them and bring some order to my erratic blog. Let's start with Sunday Suppers (ahh, alliteration! how nice). On such days, I'll post on my attempt at new recipes.

I'm a novice cook and a fetus baker. No, that came out wrong. I only wanted to voice just how much of a newbie I am at baking! Like, practically still in the womb if we were to discuss what level I'm at. Let's just move on. 

Before my Dogre Days, my diet mainly consisted of cut-up hotdog bits and rice, frozen dinners, 2-minute instant curry packets, and fast food. When someone introduced steamed and buttered frozen vegetables in my university years, I instantly thought "wow, gourmet-style!" 

Enter the dogre. Enter the nagging voice of guilt - first, coming out of his mouth and then later seeped into my conscience. And so began the Era of Chef Dogre, including the sprout of resentment for doing almost all of the cooking, as well as adapting an "unhealthy" diet, thanks to me, which led to weight gain, so he claims. I said: Funny, I haven't gained so you can't blame me for your belly. He said (retorted): You've lived on this diet for years, you're a veteran. I'm not! Enter food blogs. Blog after blog after blog of scrumptious looking stuff (Bakerella, Noble Pig, and Everybody Likes Sandwiches to name a few) inspiring me to gingerly step into this new world where I actually stand in the kitchen for more than 10 minutes. Enter Chef Dogress! For the first time, I have been looking to recipes to create real meals and goodies. Sure, in the past I "made" pasta dishes (pre-made sauce, heavy on the cheese, frozen vegetables), heated up those frozen chicken fingers and pizzas, but they were all very unsophisticated. But now? Now I'm baking apple crumble, cookies from scratch, trifles, and cooking "authentic" Korean food (okay, it was one time) and mature (pronounced "mah-tour") adult food! Fine, this happens very infrequently and I still rely on the dogre or dine out so I can't call it the Era of Chef Dogress...just yet!

Tonight: The recipe from Noble Pig, with slight variations. Added: pancetta and chili flakes. Omitted: salt. The truth: Added more salt than called for, threw in the pancetta too early, and forgot to add the flakes. I didn't even know what arugula was! I wandered around the supermarket without a clue as to what it looked like and we finally had to ask someone. The results: salty, even for my salt + spicy loving tongue. Nonetheless, tasty. Former Chef Dogre said bravo on presentation and good job on taste. 

In any case, let's welcome Sunday Suppers into my blogging schedule! Please join me as I attempt to domesticate myself, so that I can be an equal partner in the kitchen and whatnot. Maybe I'll garner some praise from the dogre's parents...maybe someday I'll out-cook the dogre and berate him! Revenge!?  Also, feel free to sponsor me on my journey by mailing out a red KitchenAid stand mixer. While you're at it, buy me a house with a walk-in closet that leads into my own private washroom, like Carrie Bradshaw's. Oh, and one of those apron-front kitchen (double) sinks.

Now that that's done, I'm going to drag this post on even longer by sharing recent, pointless, and random thoughts/experiences since, really, it wouldn't be my kind of post without them. First, and still relevant, on the topic of food:

New Christmas Tradition: Grand Raspberry Trifle for dessert. Quick and easy (albeit messy). Yummy too (maybe too sweet). I've selected a deceptive photo, as I often do, to enhance the appearance of the trifle and make it look like it was actually presentable (it was very sloppy and this was the only angle that showed any semblance of layers). On the topic of deceptive photos, my place of less than 500 sq. ft. is cramped and unkempt. So, I like to play make-belief and put up photos to imply otherwise. I've also discovered that I can hide blemishes using the iPhoto retouch tool! Soon, after completing my Graphic Design courses, I intend on revealing myself, the real model for the CGI version of the younger Daisy in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Is that not how adobe photoshop works? What? On the topic of traditions, I didn't have the pleasure of following a single tradition while growing up so I'm eager to create ones for my "new" family. I want to be all disgustingly cutesy with all sorts of traditions. And I plan on bragging about them here on my blog. So sorry!

The quick and dirty restaurant review: Biff's Bistro (on Front Street)

Extremely slow service, awesome decor and ambiance, cold, terribly slow service, forgettable food, turtle-like service. What was consumed: Shrimp Pate, Hearts of Boston Bibb salad, Beef Bourguignon, and the Basquez Chicken. Comments: simple salad, too much parsley in the pate, very boring chicken with rubbery eggs and lemony couscous, stringy beef not at all tender or succulent. Memorable points: Mentioning to the waiter that we felt an uncomfortable and cold draft and not receiving a follow-up; the waiter clearing away my friend's fork and not returning with a replacement or coming by for us to even ask for a new one, resulting in us sharing mine to eat the complimentary cornichons, which we devoured because it took so long for our plates to arrive; the waiter removing the shrimp pate despite clear evidence that we were still working on it (friend had knife mid-air above the plate as she was spreading pate on her bread).

An informal request for a Toronto Line-up Patrol Task Force:

I like my lines neat and obvious. If a friend is already waiting in line and invites me to join, I'm stricken with guilt and need to wait in the back of the line rather than butting. I feel distressed even if someone has lined up on my behalf, specifically holding my place, for fear of the potential dirty looks I may receive from fellow customers. I fume when someone sneaks in/tries to cut others off, and nearly suffer a heart attack because I'm so pissed off and yet too timid to initiate a confrontation. I absolutely hate when I wait for the bus at a station and some jerk tries to form a new line nearby (are you stupid? are you?! i'm talking to you! said loudly in my head). I also hate this: I was in line this week at a Zara, when the woman in front of me stepped out of line and went elsewhere and sauntered back many minutes later, assuming her old spot. If you realize you need to exchange or forgot an item and you turn around to ask me to save your spot for a quick second, I'll politely agree. Even if you don't address me, run off, and return, I'll be okay. But if you walk off and take your sweet time, perusing other things and then meander back, I will give you the death-glare! In conclusion, fellow reader, I'm pleading for kind volunteers who will monitor line-ups. I'd be extremely grateful! To tell you the truth, when some brave soul calls someone out for breaking a line-up "rule", I choke up just a little, fighting back tears of gratitude.

The Courtesy Mock-Runs:

I'm talking about when you're crossing the street at the lights and there's a car waiting to make a turn and so you do a pretend-run. You know you do it! It's the "I'm going to make these physical gestures of bending my legs more, lifting my legs higher, and swooshing my arms even though I'm still moving at the same speed, just so you think I'm considerate" run. It isn't a run, it's a mock-run! I love watching those. I do it all the time. And as I do it, I'm thinking about how good I feel for showing my consideration and thoughtfulness to my fellow Torontonians.

My Cat is Better Educated Than Yours:

To my pleasure, I've realized that Mia watches the BBC Planet Earth episodes with me! She particularly lights up when the male birds are flittering about, trying to seduce the females with their colourful feathers and dance moves. They've got better dance moves than me, that's really sad. But who cares because my cat is clearly smarter, more refined, and sophistimacated than yours.

Can I just say that I had every intention of minimizing my word content today and giving you a break? I swear it's one of my many afflictions. Put me in a room with unfamiliar people and I'll be shy and quiet; put me in a room with my friends and I'll still filter my words; put me in a room, drunk, with my friends, and even then I'll screen my conversation pieces; BUT put me in front of a computer and I'll type until my eyes are strained, I've got a migraine, and my back is so hunched that my nose is practically touching my belly button! Hopefully, some of you will humour me, or at the very least glaze over my photos...I'd offer weekly contests/freebies/gifts to entice you but I'm too poor for that. I'd offer advert space but I'm clueless. I once had this little fantasy that I'd become a full-time blogger, making tons and tons of money sitting in my jammies (specifically a stretched out top that the dogre affectionately - not really - calls my muumuu), while eating without a care in the world, getting sauce in my hair, nose, and eyeballs...But alas, 'tis not my fate. "Then dogress, why even bother?" you ask. Well, my partner encourages me to continue, inflating my head by telling me he had giggled at this and smiled at that. He tells me I have a gift - a gift of gabbing (he never actually said that. You should know that I sometimes exaggerate and will make things up if I feel like it. Nothing big, just inconsequential things that won't hurt a soul but unintentionally comes out and I don't bother deleting. I 'fess up immediately though! But to tell you another truth, I have had moments where I confuse reality with my dreams and will wake up actually believing I have a big rustic house, 7 dogs, and 20/20 vision. I'll also be talking to a friend and say "Remember when..." only to be frankly told that such an incident never happened...). So there you go! 

I've decided on my Wednesday posts: Wednesday Loves. On this day, I'll egotistically (describes all my posts, really) post about an item or two (or three) that I love and - hopefully - own. Let's start a couple tonight: 

Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics mittens. Very warm, chockfull of Canadian pride, and very cute. Find it at The Bay ($10).

Bond No. 9 New York perfume token in Andy Warhol Union Square. Smells delicious - sweet and subtle. Purchase at Holt Renfrew (need to ask the dogre for price).

Happy Monday! And HAPPY HOLIDAYS!