APPLE PIE ICE CREAM SANDWICHES

It's always fun to watch the Academy Awards. There is deliciously evil enjoyment in joining your friends for food and drinks and a night with Oscar. One scrumptious word best sums it up, "schadenfreude". It's fun because the people you watch parading around in their velvety couture have been denying themselves the pleasure of food for weeks. These are some HUNGRY people!

They have dieted and fasted for several agonizing weeks for this day. They've put on blinders so they may pass In N Out Burger without caving. They've shunned fried chicken at The Ivy and embraced dry salad greens instead. They've feigned indifference to the Velvet Margarita's queso enchiladas and towering margaritas served in hollowed pineapples. All of this self denial is crucial so that they may slide into that Swarovski crystal encrusted gown without a wayward packet of backfat ballooning up next to an offending too-tight gown strap.

Finally the day arrives that the envelopes are retrieved from the safe and escorted down the red carpet. It is a long and hungry day for Hollywood's elite. Smelling salts are discretely tucked into satin clutch bags in case of hunger fainting in the limo. Upon arrival, assistants, stylists, and publicists swarm the car and inspect the starlet for wardrobe malfunctions, errant hair wisps, or silicone leakage. Then the door is allowed to open fully and flashbulbs pop wildly as Miss Box Office 2007 dons her best haughty smile and does the famous, "step, step, pause, turn, step, step, pause, turn" down the carpet. The sugar free Red Bull propels their frail, hungry bodies ever closer to the theatre. Step, step, pause. Step, step, pause. Smile.

Then, it happens.

An unheard celebrity siren song cuts through the roar of the fans. Their diamond strapped shoes lose contact with the carpet beneath them and they carry their glamour girl, powerless, toward the press stations. Slowly, with glazed eyes they arrive in front of the network cameras. Joan's manicured fingers curl just below the station identifier cube on the microphone and her hand extends slowly in a grandly insincere gesture of adoration. The interview begins but all the star hears is blahblahblah through their foggy starved mind. A subconscious part of their brain awakens, takes the reigns and manages the interview. All the while, the star, the famished, glamorously malnourished vixen of the silver screen stands transfixed staring at the table behind the cameraman that is piled high with...

Sweet Lady Jane's Triple Berry Shortcake and Chocolate Candied Orange Cakes.

Finally Joan congratulates the starlet (calling her by the wrong name) on the nomination and the interview is over. Joan winks once the camera turns and slyly passes America's Sweetheart a vanilla Sprinkle's cupcake and a knowing wink.

I watched these hungry people buzz around the Boulevard last Sunday while I was chomping down on these amazingly sinful apple pie ice cream sandwiches and savoring how wonderful life is when cameras don't follow your every move and ice cream sandwiches are not forbidden foods.

I gambled on this dessert creation but it paid off big time. The ice cream by itself is a tad on the rich side to stand alone. The addition of cream cheese pumps this ice cream recipe up into a super indulgent apple pie flavor that comes shining through the cinnamon scented oatmeal cookie bookends.



APPLE PIE ICE CREAM SANDWICHES

Cream Mixture
2 1/2 cups half and half
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 TBS fresh lemon juice
2 tsp vanilla
2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/4 cups sugar

Apple Mixture
4 tart apples, peeled and chopped
1 TBS salted butter
1 tsp cinnamon
3 TBS sugar

Oatmeal Cookies (right off the oatmeal box)
2 sticks butter, softened
1 1/2 cups brown sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups quick-cooking oats
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt

Prepare ice cream mixture:
Using electric mixer (or food processor) beat half and half, cream cheese, lemon juice, vanilla and cinnamon until completely smooth. Stir in sugar and continue mixing until sugar is dissolved. Pour cream mixture into ice cream freezer and freeze as directed. When freezing cycle is completed, transfer ice cream to freezer.

Prepare apple mixture:
Melt butter in large skillet over medium high heat. Add apples, 1 tsp cinnamon and 3 TBS sugar. Cook and stir until apples soften and sugar begins to caramelize. Set aside to cool. Once thoroughly cooled, apples can be stirred into ice cream while it is still soft and before it is fully frozen.

Make cookies:
Preheat oven to 350 F. In a large bowl with electric mixer, beat butter, brown sugar and vanilla until light and fluffy (about one minute). Add eggs and mix until thoroughly incorporated. Add oats, flour, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Mix on low speed until blended. Drop batter by heaping tablespoons on to greased baking sheets and flatten with fingers. Space cookies at least two inches apart to allow for spreading. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes. Do not over brown cookies as a slightly soft center is desired. Cool completely and chill in refrigerator.

Assemble sandwiches:
Remove ice cream from freezer and stir if necessary to soften slightly. Spoon ice cream on cool cookie. Place a second cookie on top and press together to spread ice cream almost to edges of cookies. Repeat process with remaining cookies and ice cream. Freeze sandwiches until thoroughly frozen.

SWORDFISH AND CHERRY SALSA ON APPETIZER SPOONS

Fish and me don't get along too well. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing personal against live ones. I think The Little Mermaid is a really beautiful piece of Disney imagination. As a kid I stared with wide-eyed fascination for hours at the solitary little goldfish swimming around in a little bowl in my bedroom. I sometimes envied the little gilled guy who had his own multi-spired castle, a landscape of tumbling jade and lime toned pebbles and fantastic underwater gardens that rose toward the light above. I wanted to join him in that world like a young Mr. Limpet.

Also, I thoroughly enjoyed joining the slippery suckers in their natural habit in the Caribbean. We swam through colorful bouquets of tropical fish in the waters just off a shipwreck, but snapping photos and coordinating oxygen and rubber flippers proved to be challenging to me. Ed however, managed to capture a shot of me and these little stripped guys.


No, live fish never bothered me. But serve a cleaned and beheaded one on a plate and watch my nose hairs curl back in disdain. The taste, texture and smell of fish just doesn't rev my motors in a way I'd like. Fish and I have always had a strained relationship. I recently recounted the battle between my mother, myself, and a toilet bowl I saw as my personal culinary savior. And I spent over ten years working under the watching eyes of a stuffed blue sailfish. This unfortunate creature left the warm waters off Mexico and landed on a wooden plaque in the office of an eye doctor in Burbank. I was the optician in this office for ten years. During the two remodels I endured in my tenure there the fish never managed to escape that spot over the hallway to find a final resting place worthy of such a creature. My best guess would place that fish in the same spot--nearly nine years after my departure. It really has no other place to go as the good doc's wife refused to let the embalmed creature's glass eyes gaze upon the inhabitants of their home.

Occasionally I discover a recipe or preparation method that I can..well..."tolerate" sounds so negative. Let's say that I do sometimes stumble on a fish recipe that I find no particular distaste for. As my body ages I occasionally find myself paying attention to dietary supplement advertisements on TV. Fiber has become more important. I also realize that adding fish to my diet is probably a good thing. I want to experience the joy of savoring juicy, fresh-from-the-sea fish. I want to salivate over sushi. I wish my tongue longed for a bite of bass. Until that happens, I'll just keep searching for highly-seasoned or super-sauced fish dishes that disguise the salty fresh goodness of the deep blue sea.

This photo appeared here last year as part of my GBDC tapas party. I didn't get around to posting the recipe. Not because of my deep seated fish fears, but because I'm a true Gemini and I quickly moved past it and on to other things. I recall enjoying this appetizer and the bookcase was free of smeared cherry and fish stains the following day. The sweet-savory salsa complimented the seared fish quite nicely. This could obviously be plated as an appetizer or plopped into a crisped won ton skin as an amuse bouche as well.

SWORDFISH AND CHERRY SALSA ON APPETIZER SPOONS

1/2 pound fresh or frozen cherries (about 1 cup)
1/4 cup green onions (white and green parts), chopped
2 teaspoons fresh lime juice
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated lime zest
1 small jalapeno, finely chopped (more or less to taste)
1 1/2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh cilantro

Fresh swordfish steaks (for appetizers, I used one medium-sized steak)
1 TBS vegetable oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Pit cherries (if fresh) and chop coarsely. Add onions, lime juice and zest, jalapeno and cilantro. Mix well and set aside.

Brush swordfish with oil and season with salt and pepper. Grill fish, or cook in heavy skillet over medium-high heat . Fish is done after approximately 5 minutes per side (depending upon thickness) 0r until opaque in center.

Remove fish from heat. Place a bite-sized piece of fish on spoon and top with a dollop of cherry salsa. Serve immediately.

ONE HUNDRED POSTS, AND A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ME AND THIS BLOG

**updated January, 2009


Well, with a lot of help from friends and loved ones who let me serve them experimental recipes and my autographed copy of "Typing for Dummies", I've reached my 100th post! That means that I've pushed the "Publish" button on Blogger 99 times so far without hired goons showing up at my door and threatening to remove my hypothalamus through my nose if I do not cease such actions. I'll let ya know what happens after I push the button this time.



Many of the blogs that I comb through daily have a neat little "About" section. I decided that this 100th posting would be an appropriate place to compile some information about myself and this blog. I'll attempt to explain why I subject readers to my particular brand of writing when they could instead be doing something more fun like, counting the number of times Demi Moore cries in "Ghost," rethreading the cap on your tube of toothpaste, gluing objects to your ceiling, or putting tape over your nose and then calling your friends and talking like Michael Jackson.



OH WHY, OH WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?


Something shifts inside me when I walk into my kitchen. My right-brain delivers a TKO to the left side and then the party begins! The chance to cook is when the recess bell rings and I get to play until I'm satisfied, or so full I can't take another bite , or until my feet start hurting and I need to go sit. I find the act of cooking to be immensely therapeutic, even when I'm dog tired. I get to be very childlike (not childish) in my kitchen. I roll up my sleeves and give myself permission to get dirty. My cupboards are my toy chest stocked with cool toys, gadgets and electronic gizmos. I can stick my hands and fingers in things. I get to decorate, and I get to destroy. I can beat, whip and mangle things. I get to set stuff on fire! What could be better? How could anyone not find this to be fun?

My kitchen is like your shower (no, not that). In my kitchen I often sing, loudly and frequently off-key. I sometimes dance in front of the range top while waiting for rice to steam. I like to think I'm bringing sexy back to ordinary household kitchens. In reality, I can't sing and my clumsy feet have never inspired Justin Timberlake (but maybe Elaine on Seinfeld). I pretend my kitchen windows are actually one-way mirrors, which allow me to see out but nobody to see in. You should try it sometime. Feel the rhythmic "blub, blub, blub" emanating from a simmering pot of spaghetti sauce and choreograph a routine to it. As it has been said, dance like nobody is watching. Be careful though as a watched pot never boils but you can scorch a delicate white sauce while you are doing the "running man" from the 80's to a Beyonce mash-up.

I've loved cooking ever since my mother first guided me around a kitchen. She sparked within me a passion for preparing food out of a family necessity. What appeared to be doleful chore for a child was actually an exciting hobby and I'll always thank her for the introduction. It is rare that I find myself dreading the task of preparing a meal. I happily volunteer to cook every night after work (secure in the knowledge that Ed will be along soon with a sponge).


EXCUSE ME WAITER, THERE IS A FLY IN MY OINTMENT

A kitchen is a weird place where science, math and technology collide with artistic expression and sensual awareness. They are strange bedfellows, but there should be a balance of both the concrete and creative thinking minds. I've always had a slight imbalance--with the scale tipped more heavily towards the artistic side. Specifically, I tend to disregard measurements and strict adherence to recipes in favor of a more intuitive approach. This in itself is not a problem. However an unwelcome side effect of this style of cooking is that reproducing a winning recipe is difficult. I have produced some very enjoyable meals that were completely original. Once the dishes are cleared, the experience is akin to a sunset that has faded. Yes, there will be more sunsets but wishing to experience that same Technicolor moment are futile as they sky will never illuminate in quite the same way again. That's not to say that all of my creations are like radiant sunsets, some bear more resemblance to the destruction of hurricane Katrina.


Acme Instant Food was born out of a desire to get organized in the kitchen. It's as if I hired a manager to come in and do the crappy desk-work part of the job that I shunned. Or maybe like a therapist I've employed to help me deal with my kitchen A.D.D. (Attention Deficit Disorder). Recording and posting recipes, both original and previously published, gives me some focus in front of the oven. I stocked a kitchen drawer with paper and pens and became reacquainted with measuring spoons. I still give myself permission to touch, smell and taste my way through creating a recipe, but I try to stop and write down my formula before the flour dust has completely settled (and Ed comes through and wipes it up).

I'm pleased that so far I've done a fairly decent job of documenting the recipes that worked. I miss posting a lot of items, but I can only find time to write so much. I have the beginning of an internet filing cabinet that I can refer to for menus from the past and inspiration for some new ones. Does anyone know how to make a back-up of your Blogger entries?

SOME ADVICE TO OTHERS WHO TRY THESE RECIPES:

1. Please note that I am not a professional cook or cookbook author. Okay, you can stop laughing now. I do my best to accurately describe ingredients, measurements, cooking times and techniques. Really, seriously, you can stop now. However, I offer these recipes as guides and you should adjust seasonings or ingredients to taste. And yes, sometimes my spelling and grammar suck. Deal with it.

2. I encourage you to use my writings as inspiration—not strict guidelines! Before you serve a sauce, a stew, or an anything, stick your finger in it and TASTE. Follow your intuition and adjust it if necessary. Get playful with your food! Most recipes, with the exception of some classic published recipes and most recipes for baked goods, are more forgiving than you think. Cooking is subjective. Don’t over think your way through a recipe. Impart the flavors, textures and heat levels that you and those you are cooking for will enjoy. If your taste runs askew to what's considered popular or "normal" just go for it. Who cares what people think.

3. If you try something here and it's a total dog, let me know. Maybe I forgot a critical ingredient or step in the preparation. Perhaps I just suck at writing instructions. Maybe I was drunk and the whole post should be deleted.

4. I'm open to comments and criticism. Just like Charlie Brown, I run to the mailbox every day with hopeful anticipation. Don't let me down.

5. If I use a published recipe, or one that I've made very few changes to, I do my very best to credit the original source. Who doesn't like getting credit for their work? Occasionally, I'll find a recipe I printed from the internet or jotted down on paper and not know the source. This doesn't happen often. You may also feel free to reprint a recipe I've posted here, but please give an appropriate nod back to me.



SOME RANDOM STUFF ABOUT ME AND THIS BLOG ABOUT WHICH YOU MIGHT NOT REALLY GIVE A SHITAKE MUSHROOM

1. I'm a native of Los Angeles and currently live in Hollywood with my loving partner of over seven years. Ed suffers from a condition known as Palmoliveluvahwashititus. It's an acute condition that causes uncontrolled fits of dish washing and counter top cleaning. The malady also manifests in the brain of the afflicted, causing him or her to believe that such activity is actually fun. After his diagnosis I committed myself to researching the disease. With hope, and your continued support, I may continue my crusade to prevent finding the cure for this disease. I will rest easier once I know that nobody can market a treatment for this disease.


2.*updated Jan. '09. I began working on a television production in July of 2008. My previous job allowed much more time for me to play with cooking, but now spare time is a precious commodity. As a result, I can't devote much time to blogging.


3. Even though this blog is titled Acme Instant Food I am not a believer in so-called "instant foods." I am saddened by the trend in Rachael Ray and Sandra Lee (Semi-homemade???? Who are you kidding?) cooking styles. Diabetes will soon change the face of our planet. Obesity is choking the life hood out of our hearts. Our bodies are crying out a collective death song! The name is simply inspired by an animated, accident prone coyote in the desert who is handy with a mail-order catalog with mega-quick delivery.

4. HTML? Hard To Memorizemuchless Learnlanguage? Huh? Go easy on me folks.

5. I hate eggs. I'd rather you throw them at me than have to eat an omelet.

6. I love Peeps. If they are stale then I like 'em even better. I think they make great salad toppings too.

7. **I'll stop here and add to the section to keep it updated and relevant. Besides, you stopped reading after the first paragraph.

Kevin, your serious host.

Ed is a serious guy too. That's why we get along so very well.

WEST HOLLYWOOD WELCOMES ELEVEN

*A Note for visitors directed here through Eater L.A.

The text that Eater L.A. highlighted on their site does accurately sum up my musings on Eleven. I do hope that readers will read the full post here, including the fact that I chalked up my impressions to the overwhelming demands and pressures of a venue's opening night (even for a "soft" opening). It would be unfair to make such a summary judgment and I do not wish to be viewed as having done so. I (I'll only speak for myself) did indeed feel an "aloof and unwelcoming" vibe from the staff that evening (not just from the obligatory door man) and we did not feel compelled to hang out or even order a drink. I think that Eleven is unique and their identity should solidify soon. I look forward to returning later when they've had a chance to
forge their routine. I also hope that staff jitters will dwindle and their patrons will be treated to a unique and exciting West Hollywood nightclub experience. Here is the original post:



From Eater L.A.


BREAKING: Eleven Opens TONIGHT!

Break out your best H.R. Pufnstuf and Sleastak impressions: Sid Kroft's ELEVEN opens TONIGHT. A tipster writes in:

"I've heard from a very reliable source there's a soft opening tonight starting at 5:00 pm with cocktails and limited bar menu. Also a performance at 11:00pm

We hear it's open on Saturday night, too. A two-night soft opening two days before you open? That's so ballsey we can barely contain ourselves. And what of that "performance?" It is Grammy weekend so it can be just about anyone.
*****************************************************



Well, we didn't see a single Sleastak searching out precious human life forms or Witchiepoo searching behind the bar for a magical talking flute, but there was a decent turn out for Eleven's inaugural night on Friday. We headed there for a drink after dinner and found ourselves stuck on the sidewalk as part of the inevitable "for show" line while others cut in or flirted past. The door muscle finally chose to let our group in, except for a buddy and myself, effectively breaking up our small party. We were left standing on the less desirable side of the door, forcing our friends to garner help from the inside.

There appears to be numerous elements to Eleven designed to entice including inventive water and fire features and hydraulic tables that lower at eleven to transform the space into a nightclub. A lofty stage can accommodate a DJ or live music set against a backdrop of Santa Monica Blvd. It sounds ambitious, teetering to the point of Las Vegas. All of these elements however, are subtle and meld into the warm space instead of forcing high-tech gimmicks in its patron's faces. Natural materials abound and there are no hard-edged industrial materials. A friend described the interior as less "Disneyesque" as other establishments in the area like the Abbey.

Eleven's interior is cozy and warm but the flow of the space is slightly clunky. The downstairs bar dominates, creating a ring of people pushed to the perimeter. The upstairs level is surprisingly large and appears to be the place to score a table and settle in. Tables, surprisingly, were not in short supply as the crowd waned after the performance. I don't think the kitchen was open for this evening so I didn't get a preview of what is to be offered.


A troop that can best be described as a goth, burlesque circus group paraded through while paying homage to a acrobat performing on a ring above the crowd. What detracted from the fun was the frenetic and ineffective crowd control techniques that bordered on shoving. They would do well to devise some sort of non-human barriers that do not command your attention and instead let the performance be the focus of the crowd.

The stretch of Santa Monica Boulevard Eleven calls home is prime Boy's Town real estate but who exactly it aims to cater to seems mysterious. Its style sits 180 degrees away from that of neighboring siblings. Its operation and atmosphere seem more appropriate for a venue on the Strip. The vibe emanating from the crew on this particular night felt uncomfortably aloof and unwelcoming which doesn't blend in to the neighborhood. Boy's Town establishments (the ones who endure) typically range from "casual" to "frat boy" with an emphasis on the "boy". Potent drinks and cruisability (I think I made that up) take precedence over pretentiousness and high style. All of this makes me wonder if Eleven is going to nestle comfortably into the neighborhood or if it will design its own unique landscape.

I personally see it as being a welcome option to the West Hollywood dining and nightlife choices and eagerly await an opportunity to experience a dinner there. I'll chalk up my first impression to the pressures of a new venue welcoming crowds in on opening night. I do hope the owners examine its modus operandi and adopt a manner that doesn't put off the denizens of the neighborhood. It won't take long to see who is drawn to its doors and feeds its coffers.

SOUTHWEST CORN CAKES WITH PAN-SEARED SHRIMP AND PEACH SALSA

Shrimp store well in the freezer so I purchase lots when I find good, fresh shrimp on sale. They thaw quickly too which helps answer the "oh-God-I'm-tired-what-to-make-for-dinner-tonight" question. Freeze fresh shrimp in the shells (but decapitated please) in air-tight packages. For longer freezer storage, freeze shrimp in water in a freezer safe container. The ice block method prevents air from causing freezer burn. Mine don't normally get to stick around long enough to experience the ol' burn though.


Southwest Corn Cakes

1 cup corn kernels
2 eggs
1 cup milk
few splashes hot sauce (to taste)
2 TBS sugar
3 whole green onions, chopped (plus extra as garnish if desired)
1/4 cup chopped cilantro (unless you are Laura Rebecca--she can skip this)
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup yellow corn meal
1/2 tsp baking powder
salt and pepper to taste
4 to 5 TBS canola or olive oil (total)

Pan-Seared Shrimp

1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and cleaned (I used 21 per pound size)
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp + cracked black pepper
1/8 tsp sugar (the suggestion to include a pinch of sugar was lifted from Cook's Illustrated)

Prepared Peach Salsa (mine called out my name in Trader Joe's and we've been in love ever since)

Heat 1 TBS oil in heavy skillet over high heat until oil begins to smoke. Carefully add corn kernels and stir occasionally until just barely blistered, about 4 minutes. Remove corn from skillet and set aside to cool.

In a medium-sized bowl, mix eggs, milk, sugar, hot sauce, 1 TBS oil, green onions, cilantro and cooled corn until well blended. In separate bowl, mix flour, corn meal, baking powder, salt and pepper until well blended. Gently fold flour mixture into wet mixture, stirring just until combined (don't over mix).

Place about 1 TBS oil on griddle and heat over medium-high heat. Pour a scant 1/4 cup of batter on griddle for each corn cake and cook like a pancake. Turn when edges dry and brown slightly. Repeat with remaining batter, adding additional oil as necessary to the griddle. Keep cakes warm on a cookie sheet in a warm oven while cooking shrimp.


For Shrimp

Heat 1 TBS oil in 12 inch skillet over high heat until smoking. Meanwhile, toss shrimp, salt, pepper, and sugar in medium bowl. Add shrimp to pan in single layer (do not crowd pan--cook in two batches if necessary) and cook until edges begin to turn pink. Shake or stir pan to flip shrimp and continue shaking/stirring until shrimp are opaque. Remove from pan immediately-DO NOT OVERCOOK OR SHRIMP WILL TOUGHEN. Sorry, didn't mean to yell.

Plate three corn cakes on each plate and top with shrimp. Place a dollop of peach salsa on the side and serve.

YO HO HO AND A BOTTLE OF YUM!

Dear Gang:


I guess it's my turn to attempt to poison you all once again at the next Gay Boys Dinner Club get together.

How does February 3rd look for everyone? Let me know if that works for you.


(signed)
Ed


I don't think that anyone actually believed that Ed might poison them during his turn wearing an apron for our GBDC meal. It's just that Ed is known for being spectacular at many things including being a father, highly-respected executive, significant other, and dedicated friend. His neural synapses fire with precision speed and efficiency when he's looking to hire just the right segment producer, or when guiding his sons through difficult school and career decisions. A friend in need will never go wanting in his presence as his generosity is boundless. His kitchen talents, however, is where the record needle slips and scratches the vinyl with a resounding screeeeccch!

The man does have a couple of go-to type dishes including tacos and a baked chicken dish he would prepare for his boys. Honestly, those dishes are quite tasty and often requested. But his finest, and arguably most valuable kitchen skill lies in his ability to descend upon a greasy stack of dishes, pots, pans and utensils like a Tasmanian Devil. The soap bubbles don't stop flying until every dish and counter top is sparkling. That particular talent gets my motor running like nothing else!

Before rolling out the red carpet for our friends, Ed dove into the Internet and searched for the perfect menu to prepare. When he emerged he clutched a handful of printed recipes, a carefully created shopping list, and a gigantic smile. I scanned the grocery list and saw items like:

Scotch Bonnet or Habanero Chiles

Mangos

Dark Rum

Jamaican Blue Mountain Coffee Beans

Crystallized Ginger

Jicama

Plantains

Coconut Milk

Pumpkin Seeds

"We're gong to the Islands for dinner" he exclaimed!

ED'S GBDC "ISLANDS MENU"


SHRIMP COCKTAIL (as a starter)

MANGO JICAMA CHOPPED SALAD

JAMAICAN JERK CHICKEN

COCONUT RICE

PLANTAINS WITH BALSAMIC BASIL GLAZE

JAMAICAN COFFEE BROWNIES WITH PECANS

The refrigerator was filled with the most aromatic smells for about 24 hours prior to the dinner. His Jerk Chicken was marinating and exuding the most intoxicatingly spicy fragrance. Mangos, honey and lime juice melded beautifully and transformed pedestrian cabbage and romaine into a tropically perfumed salad.

The guests were not due for several more hours. I paced the length of the house repeatedly not knowing what to do. I was responsible for serving drinks (Mango and Passion Fruit Cosmos) and setting the table. The GBDC rules state that spouses may not help with the dinner, other than to help serve if necessary. Of course, being the kitchen control freak that I am, I...

...went....


....a little....


...NUTS!

He needed no help whatsoever. The dinner was a resounding success! The only dish that didn't turn out was the plantains as they were perhaps too green to start with. They sat on the grill for an hour and 15 minutes and still didn't yield to a spoon. Nobody cared! The Jerk Chicken was just spicy enough and not a single piece was left. The coconut rice was the perfect combo of sticky coconut and rice grains with just the right firm bite. The Jamaican Coffee Brownies were a blur of chocolate and crystallized ginger chips as they flew out of the kitchen and landed on dessert plates.

*Note to Ed - you WILL, I repeat WILL be required to make this meal again for me in the future. I will even switch places and clean the kitchen when you are done. I hope you enjoyed the task because our friends will also be requesting this again. Bravo! Well done!

All the recipes Ed followed were taken from Epicurious. Rather than re-print them here I give you the following links:

Mango Jicama Chopped Salad
Jamaican Jerk Chicken
Coconut Rice
Plantains with Balsamic Basil Glaze
Jamaican Coffee Brownies with Pecans

Are you guys done eating yet? Can I go home now?

CHICKEN SLOPPY JOES AND BAKED FRENCH FRIES

I used to await the arrival of summer so that I could look at the ads of hot models wearing wet swimsuits while I lapped away greedily on a pistachio ice cream cone. I still enjoy the pleasures of both cold ice cream and hot models but I look forward to summer's arrival for new reasons. Now I long for the middle months so that I may enjoy days where the sun doesn't head for the ocean's horizon before my car has even edged into the garage after a workday. Specifically, I'm hungry for daylight so that I may take better pictures of the dinners I prepare.

I have on occasion not posted on a recipe because, frankly, the picture I snapped of the finished product was so unappetizing that nobody in his or her right mind would be motivated to try the recipe. I made spicy chicken sloppy joe sandwiches a couple of weeks ago and they were delicious! Ed waited patiently for his quickly cooling plate while I scrambled to capture a photo. It was nighttime and I had to use the artificial light available in the house. The resulting pictures resembled shiny globulous dog food dripping from a stale, sulfur-colored bun. Tasty, huh?

I returned to the kitchen for a command sloppy joe performance for our lunch today (I'm not sure why but this sentence sounds kinda nasty to me). I took advantage of the diffused daylight coming through the kitchen window and managed to capture the image above before devouring the sandwich. I doubt that the editors of Bon Appetit Magazine will be looking for my contact information, but the slightly out of focus still life is acceptable for publishing on Acme Instant Food.

Chicken Sloppy Joes
Inspired by a recipe on Epicurious for turkey sloppy joes

3 TBS olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large bell pepper, chopped (omitted for Ed's sake)
6 - 8 cloves garlic, chopped (or more if you are single and dateless)
4 large half chicken breasts (I start w/ boneless/skinless for ease)
1 12 oz. bottle Guinness Stout Beer
1 TBS chili powder
1/2 cup chopped green chilis (I use the HOT ones from New Mexico)
1 TBS Worcestershire sauce
1 14 oz. can tomato sauce

Hamburger buns or sandwich rolls

Place chicken breasts in food processor and pulse until coarsely ground.

Heat oil in skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, bell pepper and garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until vegetables soften (about 5 to 7 minutes). Add chicken and continue stirring and cooking just until chicken looses pink color. Add remaining ingredients (except for the buns, silly) and continue cooking and stirring until mixture thickens, about 10 to 15 minutes. Spoon mixture on toasted buns and season with salt and pepper if desired.




Baked French Fries

These are very easy to make and I just wing the ingredient proportions. The inside will be soft and fluffy and the edges will become quite crisp.

Scrub Russets, slice into wedges and toss into a Ziplock bag. Drizzle olive oil over potatoes to coat well. Sprinkle seasoned salt, paprika , pepper and chili powder over potato wedges to taste. Close bag and shake well to evenly distribute oil and seasonings over wedges. Place wedges on a pizza stone (use a baking sheet if you busted your last stone in a fit of rage when you heard the judge shut down ParisExposed.com before you had a chance to bid on her home video collection). Bake in a 425 degree oven until crisp and browned nicely on the outside, about 30 minutes depending upon the thickness of your potato wedges.

I've experimented in the past with other seasonings including garlic and onion powder and cumin with success. Once I baked with only with salt and olive oil and then finished them off with a squeeze of lime juice and a shake of cracked black pepper.