FOOD ON THE FOOD

Taking Our Coffee with Extra Cream

Yesterday, the kids requested that I make some ice cream. They love homemade vanilla, maple, and peppermint stick ice cream, but their other favorite, coffee, was up in the rotation. As always, I put aside my concerns about a high-octane jolt of caffeine right before bedtime and got churning.

After dinner, the 10YO was writhing around in his chair in total ice cream bliss (or total caffeine overload, not sure which). He began strategizing all of the ways we could get rich off of this ice cream—never mind that the ice cream market is already very well saturated, and I'm far too lazy for any kind of business plan that doesn't involve sitting in one place for long periods of time, speaking to no one. Still, he insisted.

10YO: Mommy, you HAVE to start a company.

7YO: No, Mommy. I have a better idea. Start a company, make a million bowls of ice cream, and then shut it down and lock the doors so we can eat it all!

Wow, you can't buy that kind of press. Especially on double veggie night!

Anyway, I'd give you the recipe for my coffee ice cream, but I can't because it's under lock and key. Nobody's going to buy the cow if they can get the delicious coffee milkshakes for free! (The cow in this analogy is my cookbook, by the way, not me.) The book will also have the aforementioned vanilla, maple, and peppermint stick recipes, as well as some of my other favorite flavors, like pistachio, brown butter pecan, and cinnamon date. Speaking of dates, the book is officially on sale October 22, 2013.

Meanwhile, here's a fun question for you. I have a recipe in the cookbook for a vegetable-themed ice cream. Yes, a vegetable-themed ice cream. Stop gagging! I'll have you know it got enthusiastic reviews not just from an objective recipe-tester, but also Husband, TeenNiece, and the 10YO (the 7YO, not so much).

Can you guess what vegetable it is?

Banoffee Parfaits

A few years back, I featured a recipe for banoffee pie. For those unfamiliar, banoffee pie is an amazing—and amazingly simple—combination of bananas, whipped cream, and dulce de leche (milk caramel) that everyone should try. However, I'm pretty sure nobody made the pie.

Show of hands: who made the pie?

See? Nobody.

So today, I'm offering you an even easier way to make this pie—by removing the pie aspect altogether and layering the filling components inside mason jars or wine glasses or whatever containers you happen to have at hand.

Since I got rid of the graham cracker crust, I inserted little Swedish ginger cookies between the layers (delicious!), but you could also use actual graham crackers, digestive biscuits, or Maria cookies. Break them up if you have to. You can buy dulce de leche already made in little cans in the Latin American section of the supermarket (you'll want to heat it up a little to loosen it slightly), or you can make your own by boiling the hell out of a can of condensed milk (remove the label, boil the can for 3 hours making sure the water level never falls below the top of the can, and let it cool completely before opening). If you're local, Fat Toad Farm in Vermont makes a killer cajeta (dulce de leche made from goat's milk). Russo's stocks it sometimes.

Then, slice some bananas thickly. Whip some cream (no sugar required, though a dribble of vanilla never hurts). Layer it all together and top it with chocolate shavings, a dusting of cocoa, or chopped pecans.

It's delicious and easy. Husband ate two.

Super Bacon!

I know we're supposed to be buying all of our shit on Etsy, but Husband found this shirt at Target and, well, it had to be bought.

(For other designs by Brock Davis, go here.)

Video Killed the Blog Star

Over the holidays, my boys were eating lunch while I was roasting some peppers for a soup we were bringing to a New Year's Eve party. They pretended to film me while I pretended to host my own cooking show (my worst nightmare). They kept making comments like "you're supposed to be talking" and "you need to add more pizzazz" like little directors-in-training. They got so into it that I dug out the video camera. Okay, hot shots, let's see what you got!

They both took turns filming bits and pieces over the course of a few hours. It was very spontaneous, as you can tell by the fact that I'm unshowered and basically wearing pajamas. It's probably not up to Food Network standards, but, from what I've seen, it's right in line with YouTube standards. It runs about 10 minutes, which is a lot to ask in this day and age, attention span-wise, but I can't spend any more time cutting it down. I've reached the end of my shoddy film- editing skills and my editor is waiting for my book edits as we speak. Anyway, considering the average age of the cameramen was 8, it's not bad.

As always, you are encouraged to drink whenever I say something completely inappropriate by mistake. I've also taken the liberty of editing out the ass shot (?) and making it into its own separate clip. Next time I'll wear better pants!

(BTW, if you want the recipe, it's here.)

Fever Pitch

After being out of school for two days and throwing up on as many stuffed animals as possible, the 7YO tested positive for the flu. He got himself a nice course of Tamiflu and it worked great. Meanwhile, I didn't have a fever, so I was convinced I was fine even though I was feeling crappier by the day. Nothing to see here. Just giving the ole immune system a workout.

By the 8th day of misery, it was clear I was not winning. I had a headache like a black hole, my face had totally liquefied, and it felt like tiny aliens were tunneling through my muscle fibers every second of eternity. But where was the fever? I had shaking chills but the mercury refused to rise above 97.4°F (no, my thermometer isn't broken—I always run cool).

I finally ended up in the doctor's office on Day 10. I don't like to be the first hypochondriac in line during flu season, but neither do I want to be the idiot who was sick for 10 days, didn't go to the doctor, and now she has pneumonia.

My real doctor was out. The one who saw me found nothing wrong beyond my flu-like symptoms.

Me: Flu-like?

Her: Yes.

Me: As in, *like* the flu but not?

Her: It's probably a bad cold.

Me: You're kidding, right? The pressure in my sinuses could fuse atoms.

Her: There's no fever.

Me: Did you see how bloody my sinuses were?

Her: Your sinuses weren't bloody.

Me: You're not a real doctor, are you?

Clearly I wasn't adequately conveying my level of sustained pain. I needed one of those pictorial charts with the frowny faces in varying degrees of distress so I could pick the worst one and then stab it in the forehead with a scalpel.

Me: Listen, Lady, … (grabbing her by the lapels)

Her: Doctor.

Me: …gimme the Tamiflu!

Her: That's just for the flu.

Me: I HAVE THE FLU!!!!

Her: It's only effective *voice straining* when given within 72 hours on onset.

Me: 72 hours? Who the hell goes to the doctor when they've only been sick for 3 days? By then I'm still debating whether or not to take a Motrin.

Long story short, she wouldn't give me the good drugs. She could have just humored me and called it the flu as she sent me on my way, but she didn't do that, either. Diagnosis: Sniffles. As I was leaving, no joke, she recommended that I get a flu shot in a few weeks because "it's really bad this year."

Yeah. I know.

My non-fever broke on Day 12. Sweet relief is finally mine! Maybe next year I'll just get the damn shot.

Christmas Loot

I'm still sick. In the meantime, here are a few excellent food-related things I acquired over the holidays. A few cookbooks, a cute little cast-iron teapot, and pecan pralines straight from the French Quarter.

Even at my age, I still find Christmas kind of magical in the non-religious, totally commercial sense of the word. I mean, yes, Christmas is more about giving than receiving and our focus is always the kids, but I still secretly hope there will be something exciting for me under the tree. To make sure this happens, I may or may not wrap up a few things for myself. Like one or two of those cookbooks up there. *cough*

I needn't worry, though, because despite Husband's lackadaisical approach to gift-wrapping, he rarely disappoints on Christmas Day. This despite (or more likely on account of) all of his unbudgeted, unapproved purchases. Every year I tell him, don't buy any other extra stuff besides what we've discussed right here on this list, clipboard and abacus in hand, pencil behind my ear.

"Merry Grinchmas," he'll say, leaving the room. "And a Shitty Year's Eve!!"

He always ignores my admonishments no matter what I say. It makes for fun present-opening for the whole family, I'll admit. The only downside is that it sets a bad precedent for the whole rest of the year when he doesn't listen to a goddamned word I say.

(Ah, but thanks to him I now possess the technology to send him nagging texts! He'll think twice about extra presents for his wife next year!)

Off to a Great Start!

So far, my dual strategy of avoiding the flu shot and supplementing my diet with large quantities of holiday fudge hasn't worked out too well for 2013. Oh well. Sometimes life is unpredictable.

Back soon.