Martha Meets Lucy

Lamb Skewers

So the Food Network and I have a love hate relationship. I love that they talk about food all the time, but I hate that they allowed Sandra Lee to ever be on the air. I also hate a lot of their programming. If they would just bring back Good Eats and the original Iron Chef*, I would be ALL over that.

Mmmm...blurry herbs and spices

Now, lest you think this is going to be me ranting...again, I’m going to tell you right here and now that I lovvvvve Aarti Party. Seriously, I love that show. Aarti is just so cute and bubbly and she started as a blogger and is a professionally trained chef. But did you catch the part about being a blogger? Yeah, that means she is not above making fun of herself on air, or sharing those embarrassing moments that should probably be forgotten about.

I might have a slight girl crush and some serious hair envy.

Look at that hair. Its gorgeous. And doesn't she just look like she would be so much fun to gossip with? (Oh, and photo courtesy of Food Network)

And if Aarti wants to tell me that I can make a ground lamb skewer with no bread based binders, I’m going to believe her. Because as it turns out, she is not lying. These lamb skewers are bound together through the miracle of baking soda. (Seriously? What can't baking soda do?). These skewers were juicy, tender, and they'd be a great introduction to Indian food. I happen to love lamb and its slight gaminess, but if that's not your thing, I'm sure ground beef or turkey would be great too. Ooh, or shape it into patties instead of skewers and make an Indian lamb burger with naan as a bun. They're great as is. If you make them for a party, you better invite me.

*I’m sorry Iron Chef America, but I can not and will not watch you. You are a pale imitation of the original.

Croque Monsieur

I’m going to make a very, very gross assumption and say that all food bloggers talk to their food. I know that I have begged, pleaded, and bartered with food. I’ve showered it with compliments.

Yesterday, I cooed at it. Before I'd even cooked it.

"Look at you all teeny tiny. I could just eat you right up.”

“Who’s the cutest little sandwich ever? You are. That’s right, you are.”

There was more, but what little dignity I have insists that I stop.*

I love food in miniature, but little sandwiches with a formal name are extra cute.

This is going to become my new favorite brunch/cold weather/appetizer dish. They are so easy and everyone is going to love them. To quote my cousin Michael**, “They’re really good, but you cheated. You put melted cheese on anything and it is going to be amazing.”

Touché.

I did make the bread from scratch because I could not find mini brioche. And I didn't want full sized brioche cut into small pieces. I wanted mini brioche. I also didn’t look very hard because I looove making bread. But making the bread is definitely not necessary and as such I will not be sharing the recipe until later this week. Seriously, any good brioche would be amazing.

I haven’t even gotten to the best parts. It can be made in advance and the sandwich is cooked in the oven. The top gets all melty and gooey, and the bottom gets brown and toasty and I wish I still had some left now. Put a fried egg on it, and you have a Croque Madam, and a room full of amazed brunch goers (or Oscar party attendees). They don’t need to know how easy it was.

Jambalaya

Somewhere in the awkward mess that we all agree to call my life, I decided I was meant to be Southern. I don’t have a drop of Southern blood in my veins, but ya’ll I want to be Southern. When I was younger, it wasn’t about the food*, or the hospitality. And as terrible as this sounds, I loved the idea of sitting on a pre-Civil War plantation fanning myself someone else fanning me while sitting on the porch drinking sweet tea.

You guys, I want to be Scarlett O’Hara. I will always and forever want to be Scarlett. I will never ever be Melanie.

I've been infatuated with Gone With the Wind since fourth grade. My love of GWTW has existed longer than my love of Harry Potter. Also, my goal of becoming Southern is much more attainable than becoming a wizard. What I'm saying is I've been slighlty obsessed. I went to Margarent Mitchell's house. I've walked around holding a hula hoop around my hips to see if I could handle wearing hoop skirts.

Since reading GWTW, my obsession with all things south of the Mason Dixon line has grown tenfold.

For most of my life, I so very badly wanted to go to New Orleans. I’d been to Atlanta, and it was definitely NOT the charming beacon of the South I expected** so my expectations for NOLA were low. I figured the food would be good, but it was post-Katrina (2006). I figured I would wander around the city eating amazing food and looking at homes that were built over 100 years ago.

I did neither.

Maybe I set my standards too high. Maybe New Orleans wasn’t back on its feet. Maybe the conference I was attending should have let us eat a meal outside of the hotel because banquet food is gross no matter where you are. Maybe I drank too much at night, and my taste buds weren’t awake after two hours of sleep. Really, who’s to say?

To this day, the best Cajun*** food I have had has been found outside of New Orleans. Take for example, my mom’s jambalaya. Until last year, she had never been to New Orleans, but she has been making this for years. I do believe she adapted it from none other than Paul Prudhomme, so it has some authenticity. If you’ve ever had jambalaya down South, you may notice that her’s is fairly loose, more like a soup. That’s how we like it, but if you like it thicker, cook the rice in the jambalaya. If you’ve only ordered jambalaya at a restaurant above the Mason Dixon line, chances are it was served over pasta. That is wrong. If my mom finds out you served her jambalaya over pasta she will hunt you down. Don’t risk it. Serve it over rice.

Macaroni and Cheese-The Only Good Thing I Got From My Ex

I, like so many people, have an ex. I feel confident saying that most people have an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband/friend. And if you happen to live in a small city that no one ever leaves chances are you will run into your ex-boyfriend. Then you might do some Facebook stalking* to see how much worse off his life is now that you aren’t in it, and find out he has a new girlfriend.

Who looks like Andre the Giant in a long blonde wig.**

Not this happened to me.

But if it were to happen, chances are she would work at one the restaurants I regularly hit up for happy hour. Because I am a good okay person I would resist the urge to quote Fezzik whenever she walked by.

“It's not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don't even exercise.”

“I’m on the brute squad”

“Why do you wear a mask? Were you burned by acid, or something like that?”

Thankfully, I have fantastic friends who pointed out that my ex was kind of worthless***. And while I wouldn’t go that far, I will say the best thing I got from my ex-boyfriend was a recipe for macaroni and cheese.

This recipe is super cheesy, clocking in at over 2 pounds of cheese to 1 pound of macaroni. Its unlike any other macaroni and cheese recipe I’ve ever seen. Chili powder adds a subtle depth, cayenne provides some kick, and dry mustard adds its particular sharpness to the party. His mom once told me she wasn’t allowed to go to a family function unless she brought this macaroni and cheese.

Italian White Beans

It is the dead of winter right? Sweaters, stews and hot toddies should be staples right now to help get through the short days. Should be, is the key phrase. You guys, it is hot. Its easily 90 degrees out. I’ve been debating going to the beach all day. If I still had a surfboard, I would be at the beach.

I know that living in Southern California, I should never assume what “winter” will be like. I’ve gone to the beach on my birthday (in February). But I’m not ready for this. For starters, I’m really hot because I’m wearing jeans. When you’re single during winter, one of the perks is you don’t have to shave. Sure you could, but if you don’t want to shave for 1 2 months you don’t have to.

Not the bean I used but I just picked them and needed to share. (Christmas Limas)

I’m also in full winter mode for food. I don’t want a perfectly grilled steak. I don’t want a salad. I want stew. I want soup. I want a giant pot of perfectly cooked beans that are hearty enough to make me forget they’re vegan, but light enough to not kill my attempt lose the 5 pounds I gained over the holidays. (Helpful hint: just because you get a hand packed box of See’s chocolate doesn’t mean you have to eat all of it in one sitting. But its easy to do with a bottle of wine and a string of bad romantic comedies.)

So, if you live somewhere where the thermometer is going to drop below 60, go make a pot of beans. The base is a delicious Italian flavored sofrito (that I’m going to make a giant batch of next time and freeze) which takes some time, but the beans are simmered unattended. I thought they were going to take a couple of hours to cook so I went to a dance lesson, and they were done when I got home an hour later. Did I mention there is no soaking required?

Braised Oxtails with Horseradish Cream

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that everyone (minus the vegetarians, vegans, and my friend Jenna who doesn’t eat beef) like short ribs. After all, they’re tender, hearty, and just all around delicious. I like them. I really do. But...

Short ribs are the Wally Cleaver of the Low-and-slows. Short ribs wear Letterman’s jackets, get named Prom King, and single handedly save the big game.

Oxtails are James Dean. Oxtails ride motorcycles, wear awesome leather jackets. They’re bad ass and they know it. They don’t care if you like them. They’re the boy your mom warned you about.

I love oxtails. I will pick them over short ribs. Every. Single. Time.

They have texture and richness and gelatiney goodness that short ribs can only hope to have. Which is why not everyone likes them. Or it could be the name. I bet in a blind taste test oxtails would win hands down. Especially when given the Lucques’ short rib treatment. Marinated, braised, then put in a hot oven to get a crispy burnished finish oxtails are an easy show stopper of a dish. As per Susan Goin’s instructions, I served these with swiss chard, mashed potatoes, roasted pearl onions, and horseradish cream. Lots of horseradish cream.