IS YOUR KITCHEN IN THE CLOSET?

Adam Roberts, The Amateur Gourmet, asked us recently on Serious Eats, “Does cooking make you gay?”

The following is an excerpt from his article:

No one cooked in my family, and the oldest son wasn’t going to be the one to lead the revolution. It took distance and college and time before I could brave my way into the kitchen. Is it a coincidence that my coming out of the closet junior year coincided perfectly with my coming out as a cook? The two events, while seemingly unrelated, certainly fed into each other. As a gay man, I didn’t have to operate within the confines of my gender. My unwillingness to play football at Thanksgiving was now acceptable and so was my newfound enthusiasm for artisanal cheese, cold-pressed olive oil, and Niçoise olives.

Is an interest in cooking a reliable indicator of which side of the road a man prefers to drive? Of course we know that cooking is absolutely not a skill reserved for men who idolize Mariah Carey and grocery shop with a teacup Schnauzer wearing a pink Juice Couture dog sweater riding along in their cart. BUT...


…can you determine a man’s sexuality by peering into his kitchen?



*Sorry about the crappy video. The sound is out of sync but you'll be able to follow along.

MAKE UP YOUR MIND APPLE, BLUEBERRY, BANANA, WHOLE- WHEAT MUFFINS

I am a recent convert. My metamorphosis is nothing dramatic or interesting enough that the producers of Ellen will be calling to book me on the show. I've suffered no near-death experience from which I recovered and sought out a life more meaningful through Kaballah mysticism or Buddhism. Nor did I convert to vegetarianism after reading Jeff Tietz's Rolling Stone article about Smithfield's positively polluting pig problem (but I pondered the idea for a second).

I did shed the well-worn skin of a steadfast non-breakfast eater and emerged with a ravenous morning appetite that needs to be fed within thirty minutes of waking up.

I'm now a dedicated breakfast eater!

Breakfasts have traditionally been limited to weekends where they could be enjoyed leisurely. Oh, but no more! Once the covers are thrown back and my feet hit the floor my mind turns to food. It was bound to happen since my mind thinks about food every other moment of the day. I'm not sure what sparked the conversion but my cart at Pavilions now includes lots of boxed cereals, oatmeal and fruit that is earmarked for the a.m. hours.

Now that I've begun eating breakfast every day I find that I get tired of the same morning meal. My Grape Nuts Trail Mix cereal got boring so I sprinkled it with oat bran. Then, I begun adding protein powder on top of the oat bran. Raisins soon found their way into the mix. Then, I was determined to find new and exciting way to prepare oatmeal. You see what tortured, fickle lives Gemini's lead.

Muffins are great morning treats, but the readily available kind are really caloric treats filled with a whole day's allowance of white flour, fat and sugar. I went into the kitchen this morning and decided to create a large batch of muffins that I could freeze for weekday morning munchies. I pulled bananas out of the freezer that I keep for such baking experiments and spied some frozen blueberries and fresh apples on the dining room table. This was the start of a fruit orgy and all three were intimately introduced into the batter.

Ed came traipsing in to the kitchen and asked what I was making. I replied, "Apple, blueberry and banana whole wheat muffins."

He stared blankly, blinked, and said, "Make up your mind."

KEV'S MAKE UP YOUR MIND APPLE, BLUEBERRY, BANANA WHOLE-WHEAT MUFFINS

Warning--This batter is really thick! I started having doubts that the finished product would be edible but it was in fact delicious! It was good enough that I wished I had a made a bigger batch. Forget any pre-conceived notions about what a fruit-filled, whole-wheat muffin will taste like. These are surprisingly fluffy, moist and sweet.

3 cups whole-wheat flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt

3 very ripe, medium bananas
3 egg whites, slightly beaten
1/2 cup honey
1/2 cup canola oil
1 tsp vanilla
2 TBS Splenda
1 1/2 cups blueberries
1 cup finely diced apple (I used a Fuji, which is my current fruit obsession)
sliced almonds to use as a topping


Mash bananas together with eggs, honey, oil and vanilla. Mix well. Stir in Splenda. Add blueberries and apple. Sift baking soda and flour together and add to wet ingredients. Stir just until blended. Batter will be very thick. Spoon batter into well-greased muffin tins. Sprinkle tops with sliced almonds.

Bake at 350 degrees for 18-20 minutes. Remove from oven when edges just barely begin to brown and let cool for 3 to 5 minutes before removing from muffin tins. Makes 16 muffins.

SUGAR HIGH FRIDAY #27 - CHOCOLATE BY BRAND

Welcome to Acme Instant Food and my submission to Sugar High Friday. Have we met before? It's my pleasure to have you here. Get comfortable. May I pour you a drink? Do you like Champagne? Mmmmm, very good. I'd like to get to know you a bit better. You'll probably want to know me a little bit too because this particular entry is, well, it's a little bit intimate.

Don't be scared. Are you still with me? Good.

Sugar.




High.




Friday.

Three great words.

On their own, or strung together.

Chocolate is the theme for this month's Sugar High Friday. Oh I'm sorry, I forgot to mention that we are not alone. Do you know David? Of course you do. Everyone knows David. David is the ONLY person who could be up to this task. He's hosting this sweet little event. Oh, but don't worry, he's just watching.

Do you like Valentine's Day? I do. I love...love. And loving. But don't worry, because it's okay if you don't. In fact, some think it's better not to...

Did you already finish your Champagne? Wait a minute while I put on this CD. It's Barry White.

Here...let me pour you another glass.

You like Barry? Don't worry if you don't know the music, you just have to relax into it. Okay now, lower the lights. That's good. Maybe light some candles. Excellent. Do I make you nervous? It's okay. Don't worry. Get close to your monitor and make sure nobody is watching. A little closer. Mmmmmm good. I'm ready to share this with you. Just you right now, okay?


Don't worry. It's chocolate! You like chocolate, right? And, it's warm. Just a little. Let me show you...give me your hand.




It's delicious. And you've never had chocolate quite like this before? What's that? Oh, I see. You have, haven't you? Mmmmmm I see. You are coy. Maybe you are ready for this after all...


Uh-oh, wait a minute. I think some other people are here. I feel eyes...watching us.


We have to wait a little bit longer. Just a little bit. These people here, you know, the ones watching us? They want some too. I don't have enough for everyone.

I have to show everybody now. Wait for me. Okay? Please wait.

I chose Dagoba Latte chocolate for this. For lots of reasons. Let me tell you...



1. Dagoba chocolate is organic. Mmmmm no, that's not what I said. I said 'organic'. We only want to share pure, sacred, organic chocolate ingredients.

2. Coffee--Provides stimulation. Prolongs the experience.

3. Cinnamon. Excites and arouses the senses. Intensifies your exotic charms.

4. Frederick Schilling (of Dagoba Chocolate).

Enough said about Frederick. You get the point.

ORGANIC CHOCOLATE BODY PAINT

2, 2 oz Dagoba Latte organic chocolate bars
1/4 cup heavy organic cream
1 tsp vegetable oil
*optional* tiny pinch of chili powder

Lower your kitchen lights and wear something comfortable. Break up the Dagoba Latte chocolate bars into small chunks and sprinkle with 1 tsp vegetable oil. Heat cream until hot--but not scorched or boiling. Pour cream over chocolate and let sit for 3 minutes. Then slowly and deliberately take charge, stirring mixture. Chocolate should slowly yield to you and give way to your gentle pressure. Don't stop until chocolate has given way and produces a smooth, velvety sauce.





For an extra exotic treat and sensation, add tiny pinch of chili powder and stir until blended. If chocolate is too thick to use as paint you may thin slightly with a small amount of warm cream or vegetable oil.

Okay, I have to go now. I have somebody waiting for me. I really love tattoos. But you know what to do with this now, right? This is one recipe that you will most definitely enjoy cleaning up.

Every.


Last.


Drop.

4'3", 57 POUND FEATHERWEIGHT CHAMPION!!!

Before my mother moved to New Mexico last year I spent several days with her going through old belongings, files and stacks of accumulated garbage that had been accruing during the 39 years that she lived in our small house in Burbank. As we traipsed down memory lane we pulled out boxes of Kleenex to wipe away tears and runny noses. We did this not because we were emotional, but because 39 years worth of crap makes for one hell of a dusty spelunking expedition.

This tandem cleaning effort was started in hopes of lightening the moving load. Everybody believes that the family's historical archives jammed in file cabinets and boxes are sentimental images of the past, irreplaceable memories carefully squirreled away to evoke fuzzy smiles on a future rainy day.

That is until the moment when you decide to move.

Suddenly the "cherished handwritten note from Kev's second-grade teacher" becomes, "why the hell am I holding on to this crap?" A good portion of the "treasures" went into the trash. A few made their way home in the trunk of my car.

One of the interesting files I kept contained some early medical records. I opened a brittle mailing envelope with the return address of (I kid you not) DR. HURT! I wonder how many children, faced with the prospect of meeting DR. HURT, feigned perfect health and then collapsed as their appendix exploded?

The envelope was filled with small 3" x 5" index cards on which the good doc's notes were written. Yes, in the days of my childhood doctors actually scribbled illegible notes longhand and filed them away on a shelf before they left with their buxom nurse for a three-martini lunch. Which leads me to wonder if doctors today type as illegibly on their computers as they do longhand? It also makes me wonder at what point did buxom nurses get replaced with the dour-faced, odious spinsters who descend upon me during physicals wielding needles and sterile collection cups?

My mother and brother's cards were filled with usual normal comments. Mine of course stated:



My mother had a right to be concerned about my early eating habits. Food in the kitchen could be divided into two categories.

#1. Food that is safe for the kids to eat.

#2. Food that Kevin will eat.

The first category would include those foods that didn't prompt both my brother and I to experience respiratory problems. Like lots of geeky kids we were both diagnosed with allergies to food and certain plants, trees and grasses. However, we took things a step further. The list of things that set us off was lengthy and could be summarized with, "If it grows, they probably shouldn't eat it." We were both allergic to many, if not most, common vegetables. To make matters worse, wheat and yeast were also on the list.

My mother deserved an award for surviving our dietary restrictions. As soon as the calendar heralded an upcoming birthday my mother would gather us and plan a pilgrimage to THE HEALTH FOOD STORE. It was there that she purchased the rice flour that could be used to bake our birthday cakes. The health food store on Magnolia in Burbank exuded a smell that was quite unnerving to my 7 year-old nostrils. It was the smell of vitamins, flaxseed and alfalfa sprouts swirling through the air and mixing with the smell of the topical arthritis ointment favored by the women who worked there. It was not a smell that evoked any happiness. To a young kid, it was the smell of torture. The foods purchased from that store were not the foods that I tried to sneak while my mother was on the phone. They were foods that should have been sold with wooden tongue depressors that were to be used to poke them down. This is unfortunately where much of our shopping took place.

The second category, "Food That Kevin Will Eat" contained the handful of non-allergic items that I would ingest without assistance from the Armed Guard or local Burbank police. Food, at this stage of my life, was not my friend. I'd seen people on T.V. pinch their nose and swallow foods they didn't like. I'd mimicked this action and found that it required more coordination than I was capable of. Occasionally I'd end up gagging or swallowing the offensive food "the wrong way" and the end result was the wall would turn an unappetizing shade of whatever it was that I was trying to get down.

I would eat:

meat (but no fish)
potatoes
plain pasta (no sauce--maybe some margarine)
plain hamburgers (no toppings, no condiments)
lettuce (but not on the hamburger please)
cucumbers
anything with sugar
fresh fruit

Dinnertime around the family table was a bit of an endurance test for everyone. Had my mother been a drinking woman, she undoubtedly would have slugged down a highball before setting the table. Each night at dinner, the TV was silenced and the three of us sat down to a home cooked meal, and then it was "game on." In case you have forgotten, at this point I should mention that both of my parents are blind. This was a trait that I tried to use to my advantage at meal times, but rarely with any measurable success.

DING DING - ROUND ONE!

Mom: Kevin, eat your fish sticks and rice please. You've been sitting there for ten minutes.

Kev: Sure mom, I am.

Mom: Well, work a little bit harder on it, would you?

Kev: I am.

*silence*

Kev: Mom? I need to use the bathroom. Can I get down?

Mom: Of course.

Kev: I'll be right back.

Mom: Kevin?

Kev: Yes mom?

Mom: Put that fish stick back on your plate. You may go once your hands are empty.

Kev: Okay mom. *sigh*

DING DING! END OF ROUND ONE.

ROUND ONE WINNER - MOM!

The bathroom trick had worked on a couple of occasions. But once I pushed my luck too far with too large a wad of some offending food and promptly caused the toilet to overflow. The back surge of toilet water and Wednesday night's dinner simply circled around the upper rim of the bowl, requiring adult asistance and blowing my cover.

I frequently thought that my mom faked her blindness just to terrorize me. I suspected she was similar to Wonder Woman who I watched on TV and idolized. Lynda Carter wore super short shorts emblazened with a celestial pattern, gilded conical breasts, and carried a magic lasso at her waist. My mother wore denim skirts, sensible blouses and liked high cork-heeled wedge shoes. My mother's wrists were adorned not with bullet deflecting cuffs but with a charm bracelet laden with trinkets picked up in her various travels. To my knowledge the miniature San Franciso cable car that dangled from the thick chain held no magical powers. Both Wonder Woman and my mother could stop evil in its tracks with little effort. I imagined my mother to have some sort of high-powered inner mind vision. Her physical eyes were not necessary because her highly developed mental super vision could detect my whereabouts and actions in Glorious Technicolor*. In fact, I suspected that if thrown into the ring together my mother could beat up Lynda Carter.

*I should state that contrary to popular and enduring myths, people who are blind do not develop super-enhanced hearing or any other hightened abilities. My mother simply used common sense to uncover my food disposing habits, or my penchant for sneaking cookies out of the kitchen. Darn her. *sigh*

DING DING - ROUND TWO

Mom: Have you finished your fish sticks and rice yet?

Kev: No mom.

Mom: I want you to eat half of what is left on your plate before you get up again.

Kev: Yeah mom. *sigh*

My dining room chair happened to be close to a bookcase filled with encyclopedias. They were large, heavy intimidating volumes of knowledge bound in fake leather and stamped with gold letters on the binding. Although fascinated with the haughty air of literary knowledge they exuded, their usefulness was generally lost on me. It was at that moment when I discovered the joy of books.

Later, my mother found the large clump of dried rice stashed behind that bookcase during her weekly cleaning. It had sort of dehydrated and had woven itself into the lengthy strands of our brown shag carpeting requiring serious elbow work to remove it. The bookcase was later moved out of the dining room and I was forced to find more creative ways of cleaning my plate without the assistance of bathroom fixtures or dining room furniture.

DING DING! END OF ROUND TWO!

WINNER--UNDECLARED!

I eventually traded my boxing gloves for oven mitts. The phrase "Doesn't eat well - underweight" no longer applies to me. In fact I sometimes think that my overly discriminating palate as a kid might be an asset at times today--at least during this awful period after the holidays where I have some excess tidings of good joy hanging around the mid section. My mother did indeed survive our crazy food allergy stages. Weekly trips to the allergist, hundreds of shots, and the natural course of time wiped out our allergies and none exist today. I can even walk into a health food store and not gag on the smell of flaxseed oil and topical arthritis medicine.

Photo of our family lifted from an old brochure on blindness

It is ironic how my early disdain for just about any food with flavor turned into a great love of cooking. It was my mother who first taught me to follow a recipe, measure ingredients, and ultimately prepare a meal. Since then I've cooked many meals for her. Perhaps there is some unseen motivation fueled by a desire to repay her for our traumatic nightly family meals. Maybe, I'm afraid that karmic debts really do accumulate. If so, I'd better get back in the kitchen and ship a batch of cookies to New Mexico.

AM I PUMPING GAS, OR HAVING LUNCH?

This sign hangs inside the door of a TGI Fridays in Los Angeles.

What the hell???

ASIAN GRILLED STEAK AND NOODLES

I came home craving a meat n' taters kind of dinner the other night. You know, a real manly-man dinner. When I plucked my potatoes from their hiding spot I found that they were covered with sprouts (insert girlie scream here)! Now, I don't honestly remember what chemical forms in the potato once it has sprouted, but I recall that you shouldn't try to use them even if they seem firm and otherwise fresh. Huh-uh. Don't do it.

These 'sorta look pornographic to me

I scrapped plans for this meal and some WWF on the TV (now if you think WWF isn't the gayest thing to watch on TV, I have a lifetime subscription to Men's Vogue to sell to you). This is what I threw together instead. It was a winner judging from the pile of empty plates after dinner! Since I created this on the fly, I didn't have veggies to add to the mix, but I will add bok choy, carrots, and maybe some baby corn or bean sprouts next time.

ASIAN GRILLED STEAK AND NOODLES

FOR MARINADE

1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup olive oil
8-10 garlic cloves, mashed (use as much as ya like)
salt and pepper to taste

1 1/2 lbs chuck steak (or flank, or similiar)

For the next part, be brave and balance the ingredients to your taste (sorry, I didn't really measure as I went)

FOR SAUCE

2 TBS sesame seeds
ground red chili peppers to taste
2 garlic cloves (yeah, I did count those)
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 TBS sesame oil
small bunch of chopped cilantro
1 1/2 TBS fresh ginger, finely minced or mashed
2 1/2 TBS sugar

Enough spaghetti (as always, I used whole wheat) for 3 to 4 servings

Combine marinade ingredients together in shallow dish just large enough to hold steaks. Add steaks, coating well, cover and refrigerate for approx 2 hours.

Boil pasta until al dente, drain and set aside.

Mash sesame seeds, chili peppers and garlic with mortar and pestle until a paste forms. Transfer into a small bowl and add remainder of sauce ingredients, stirring well until sugar dissolves and you are just plain ol' tired of stirring. If stirring makes you happy just keep on going until you've had enough.

Put spaghetti back into pot and pour sauce over. Warm noodles and sauce over low heat, stirring (yeah, again) until noodles absorb liquid. If noodles appear too dry, add a touch more soy sauce or vinegar to taste.

Remove steak from marinade and grill steak to desired doneness (rare for my guy and me). Remove and slice thinly. Plate noodles and top with sliced steak. Sprinkle with extra sesame seeds if you really care enough to impress those who you've chosen to dine with.




Serve immediately, but do not stop to photograph the finished product until you are done. That's how the really cool people do it! Sorry, I was hungry.

YOU PUT DA LIME IN DA COCONUT...

...unless you are a dum-dum like me.

I was craving some Thai/spicy coconut/basil/LIME flavors today and came home and created this recipe. However, I FORGOT to add the fresh lime to the finished product, which would have complimented the flavors nicely.

I guess I'll make margaritas with the unused limes!









SHRIMP IN SPICY COCONUT MANGO SAUCE

1 1/2 tsp ginger, minced
1 TBS mild curry powder
1/2 cup chile spiced mango, diced (from Trader Joe's)*
14 oz can light coconut milk
14/5 oz can low salt chicken broth
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil leaves
1 lb. large shrimp, cleaned
fresh cracked pepper to taste

fresh lime wedges (Don't forget)
brown rice

Add ginger, curry powder, and chopped mango to a large saucepan set over medium heat. Stir constantly just until curry powder is fragrant (20 - 30 seconds) . Add coconut milk and broth and simmer over medium heat for ten minutes. Add basil, shrimp, cracked pepper to taste, and cook just until shrimp are done and pink (3 to 4 minutes). Ladle sauce and shrimp over brown rice. Squeeze a lime wedge over plated serving and enjoy!

* Chile Spiced Mango from Trader Joe's is simply dried mango slices which are oh-so lovingly dusted with paprika, sugar, salt and cayenne. Great for snacking!

** I was very happy with the finished product (yeah, even without lime). However, for my next go-round with this dish, I'll (remember to add the LIME) add some bean sprouts(and lime), sliced bok choy(and lime), or crisp snow peas (and lime) along with the shrimp for some added crunch.

WILL ED BE WASHING NEW COOKWARE SOON? WILL I GET TO DRINK MY VEUVE CLICQUOT? WILL LUCY EVER GET TO SING IN RICKY'S SHOW?

I've mentioned before that my cookware is old enough that Lucy could possibly have used it to cook Arroz con Pollo for Ricky. I think somebody may have banged on my saucepans to welcome in New Year's in 1964. I need to replace it desperately and even Ed hounds me on this subject. However, I've been confused as to what type would be best for me. I posted on this topic in late September and it received more comments than any other has (and I thank everybody who offered their thoughts and opinions--they helped me greatly). Since then many of you have repeatedly asked what the *$&% is up with the delay. What did you decide and where is the new cookware? I finally decided that I wanted to purchase a set of All Clad Masterchef II and supplement it with a Le Creuset Dutch Oven and a piece or two of inexpensive non-stick cookware (toss it when it gets gouged rather than cry over the loss). Are you ready for this?

I HAVE NEW COOKWARE ON THE WAY!

err...maybe


I was all set to order the cookware on Amazon.com when I started realizing that the prices for All Clad cookware are pretty firmly set, you don't ever see it discounted. I decided that I could just as easily stop in at a department store and have it the same day, for roughly the same price as ordering it online. I could be home, drinking Veuve Clicquot, lovingly stroking my new cookware and whispering sweet nothings to it before sunset! A quick phone call to Macy's confirmed that my thinking was correct. Before I grabbed my car keys I decided to glance at the Bloomingdale's website.

Wait a minute.

Something's wrong here.

It says that they are selling my cookware set for $200 LESS than everyone else!

I called the store to check on the price--strongly suspecting that it was an error. The velvety-voiced clerk (for some reason, all Bloomingdale's clerks sound like they just floated down from Heaven on a cashmere cloud with a valium in one hand and a chilled martini in the other) informed me that they did not carry that particular set in the store and that it could be purchased only through the internet. She confirmed the price for me (with perhaps some doubt) and I jammed my finger down HARD on the "send" button on my order before she could even hang up.

WHOOO HOOOO!

Bloomingdale's later sent a confirmation email to me stating that my set was not currently in stock but would be shipping to me in mid-February. The ridiculously low price was confirmed again as well.

I just checked the Bloomingdale's website and the set is no longer offered. Will I get the set for the price they posted? Will I receive a letter from them explaining that my order can not be filled? Let's start bets. How many of you think that I'll get my cookware as Bloomingdale's promises and how many of you think that my doorway will never be darkened with a UPS man carrying my All Clad cookware?

If I don't get it, I may drink that entire bottle of Veuve Clicquot by myself and cry as I watch Lucy get bounced from the Tropicana Club, yet again.

NOW ALL IS LEFT IS TO WAIT FOR THE PAPARAZZI TO CAMP OUTSIDE THE GATE

Lis (La Mia Cucina) informed me today that I was a finalist for a Food Blog Award in the Humor category. Well Fed Network is hosting the awards and there are tons of great food blogs nominated. Peruse the categories and you'll likely discover appetizing sites that you'll want to add to your readers. Be sure to stop by and place your votes (don't skip over the Humor category now--ya hear?)

And...

yesterday's Los Angeles Times Food Section featured an in-depth detailing of "Eater LA", the West Coast offshoot of the popular New York food blog "Eater", founded by Ben Leventhal, and "The Knife" Variety film editor Dana Harris' new blog devoted to dining hot-spots of the film industry. The article also illuminated the exploding popularity of food blogs and the diverse topics they cover. A dozen L.A. area food blogs were highlighted and Acme Instant Food was included. Take a read at the online version here:

http://www.latimes.com/features/food/la-fo-dishside3jan03,0,2585945.story?coll=la-home-food

PROGRESS REPORT--DOESN'T PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS AND DOESN'T FOLLOW DIRECTIONS

I've said before that my personal Everest was making homemade pasta.

I have eggs.

I have flour.

I have a Kitchenaid with a pasta attachment.

I've paid the electric bill so the machine will run.

I'm out of excuses.

I don't know why I've been scared, but I have been for about two years. Well, tonight I made pasta and found that it was pretty ridiculously easy. My only problem was that I didn't read the instructions before clamping the pasta attachment onto the Kitchenaid in usual male macho bravado (no, I never stop to ask for directions either). I didn't understand that the pasta dough needed to be rolled into the desired thickness before feeding through the cutter. I assumed the cutter device squished it to the perfect thickness as it churned the whole wheat worms out onto the back of my awaiting hand.

I should have been more adept at producing the desired shape. In my awkward childhood, I was very handy with my Play-Doh Fun Factory. In fact, during recess, other kids would use their Fun Factory to crank out purple worms which they would then grab with their chubby fingers and excitedly chase their activity partner around the room shouting "Purple boogers! Purple boogers!" So very childish. I on the other hand, treated the Fun Factory as a serious utensil that produced brightly colored clumps of gummy Play-Doh spaghetti with Arrabbiata sauce (paper mache paste tinted with fingerpaint). I slid a pencil behind my ear as I eyed Miss Greenfield, our Kindergarten teacher, as a potential customer. She had a habit of skipping out before tasting my offerings, so I'd decided to slip my recently created plastic bowl of spaghetti and sauce into her purse, which was stashed in her lower desk drawer.

I usually scored low marks in the arts and crafts section of my progress report cards.

Ed didn't call my parents to have me taken home after I offered him tonight's dinner but he did take one look at the pile of noodles and say, "It's thick."

"Yeah. I know." I replied.




We ate it in silence. Every single bit of it. The pasta was very tasty in spite of its substantial heft. I made an easy pasta sauce from canned tomatoes that was several grade scores above jarred sauces. I'll post that recipe next.


WHOLE WHEAT PASTA

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 tsp salt
4 eggs
2 tsp olive oil
3-5 tsp water as needed

Mix flours and salt together in a Kitchenaid mixer (or use a medium bowl if by hand). Scoop the center of the flour mixture out and push to sides of bowl, creating a well in the center. Insert hook attachment and run mixer on slow speed, adding eggs and oil into center of hollow. Continue mixing until the dough comes together into a stiff dough (add between 3 - 5 tsp of water if necessary to make dough come together) and continue kneading with hook attachment until dough is elastic and smooth. Cover and let dough sit for 15 minutes.

Roll out dough with a rolling pin to desired thickness. Cut into desired pasta shapes or run though pasta attachment on the beloved Kitchenaid.

Lay pasta out on towels, or hang on dryer until ready to cook in boiling, salted water. Boil pasta briefly--just until pasta rises to the top of the water.

Drain.

Do not put in your teacher's purse.

SWEET POTATO SOUP WITH ORANGE CREME FRAICHE

Sweet potatoes are delicious offering around the holidays (I even put them in loved one's Christmas stockings). I'll serve them in just about any preparation EXCEPT when covered with cloyingly sweet sauces or studded with marshmallows. Those traditionally American methods are way too sweet for my taste and all but destroy the beautiful, naturally sweet flavor of the sweet potatoes. If placed in front of me, I would devour twelve pounds of sweet potato fries, or wedges that have been tossed with olive oil, coarse salt and pepper and simply grilled outdoors until crisp and slightly charred.

I discovered this recipe and served it to guests twice over the holidays. Pureed soups are not normally a favorite menu item but even I endured the annoying sound of my spoon "clack clack clacking" the bottom of the bowl to get the last drops.

The recipe below was taken from Epicurious, with just a few minor tweeks to ingredients and quantities. Their original recipe has you floating pieces of lobster on top of the soup but it's completely unnecessary and most comments on Epicurious proclaim the soup much better without the lobster. Buy a cute diamond-stuffed collar instead and make your lobster a house pet. Imagine your neighbors reactions when you take him for his first walk in the neighborhood! I did think that perhaps a few spiced pecans would make a nice garnish, but I haven't tried that idea.

SWEET POTATO SOUP WITH ORANGE CREME FRAICHE

1 cup whipping cream
1/2 cup sour cream
3 teaspoons minced peeled fresh ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons grated orange peel

10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) butter
3 1/2 pounds red-skinned sweet potatoes (or yams), peeled, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 tablespoon golden brown sugar

2 large leeks, chopped (white and pale green parts only)
1 1/3 cups finely chopped celery
10 cups (or more) canned low-salt chicken broth
1 1/3 cups orange juice

Mix cream, sour cream, 1 teaspoon ginger and orange peel in medium bowl to blend. Cover crème fraîche and refrigerate.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Melt 4 tablespoons butter in large pot over medium heat. Remove from heat. Add sweet potatoes and sugar and toss to coat. Arrange sweet potatoes on 2 baking sheets. Roast until very tender and starting to brown, stirring occasionally, about 30 minutes.

Melt 4 tablespoons butter in same pot over medium heat. Add leeks, celery and remaining 2 teaspoons ginger and sauté until leeks begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add roasted sweet potatoes and sauté 2 minutes. Add 10 cups broth and orange juice. Bring mixture to boil. Reduce heat and simmer until leeks and celery are very tender, about 20 minutes.

Working in batches, puree soup in processor. Return soup to pot. Thin with more broth, if desired. Season with salt and pepper. (Crème fraîche and soup can be made 2 days ahead. Cover separately; chill.)

Ladle into bowls. Spoon small dollops of crème fraîche atop soup. Draw skewer through crème fraîche to form design.