Is it weird to like everything orderly? I mean, like, in it’s place, all the time?
Because pillows should sit upright on the couch, right?
And magazines should be stacked in neat little piles on your bedside table?
Books should be on the shelf in a color-coded fashion, don’t you agree?
Or am I crazy?
Because I really love when my pillows are upright, my magazines stack in neat piles and my books are organized by color. I like my desk clear of miscellaneous things. I like my browser tabs in order so I can easily click to other sites. I prefer my shoes organized by type. Because, honestly, life is so much easier when all of my flats are in the same area, my heels are having a party on the top shelf and my boots are nestled warmly in the back of my closet.
I feel better about these things when they are in order. If they could talk to me, I’m pretty sure they’d say “Lindsey, you’ve really got us in a sweet spot. Thanks for going all Martha on us.”
And I’d be like “You’re welcome things. Glad I could own you.”
So these Southwestern Quinoa patties are kind of orderly. They form neat little round cakes. They cook evenly in three rows of four on my baking sheet. They retain their shape and stack perfectly in containers destined for the fridge and freezer.
These quinoa patties like me. I like them back.
Recipe after the perfectly horizontal jump…. Continue reading
72 days. That’s the length of Kim Kardashian’s recent marriage to Kris Humphries (let’s call him a C-list NBA player).
I’m sure it took longer than 72 days to plan Kim Kardashian’s wedding.
And maybe 72 days of dating before her hubby even proposed. Maybe.
Now, tell me, why on earth was this woman allowed to get married?
I know these questions have nothing to do with Bacon Peanut Butter Cookies except that they are both JUST. PLAIN. WRONG.
I mean, how dare she spoil the sanctity of marriage? Abusing the privilege that so many gay couples are still denied across the country?
How dare I question the perfection of a cookie by making it entirely of peanut butter, bacon and a little egg and baking soda?!
How dare we both?!
Now I know of two things for sure that the gays are now majorly over: Kim Kardashian and cookies with more calories than the number of days Kim was married.
Cheers to your divorce Kim! I’ll toast your remarkable PR machine with an incredibly fattening cookie to match your giant be-hind and swoosh it down with some Colt 45 in celebration of your tacky, tacky ways.
Recipe after the jump…
It’s raining. Walnut and I are stuck inside. Drinking tea. Well, I’m drinking tea. He’s sleeping. Probably dreaming of gophers stuck in deceptively shallow holes. While wearing his awesome scarf. Totally.
I have another round of bread (actually challah) rising in the kitchen.
I’m wearing my new Missoni (for Target) rubber boots. (They rock, by the way, and yes I woke up at dawn to get them when the store opened.)
I have a corner office, you know, with a window. Because that’s how I roll in my corner office, also know as my second bedroom. But I have a window! And I can hear the rain! And Walnut is never more than a few feet away.
Yeah. So, totally awesome. Oh, and I made this bread. It’s orange. Which is pretty much my favorite color. I’m wearing orange lounge pants to match right now. And drinking tea out of an orange mug.
You know. Because I like to match Fall, not just enjoy it. I’m obviously too cool for, well, er, Walnut. Recipe after the jump…far below all the awesome pictures.
I like to juggle a lot of balls. Not real balls, silly. Hyperbole balls. Imaginary balls of To Do List / Must Remember This / Don’t Forget This kind of balls. Balls that swell and shrink in size depending on their level of to-do-ness.
Yesterday might as well have been a circus with how many balls were flying around my kitchen.
Tomato sauce canning (we’ll call that a red ball). Vegetable stock making (yellow ball?). Meatless meatballs (brown balls, literally). From-scratch hamburger buns (beige balls, for sure).
Three of these balls combined to make some very lovely Meatless Meatball Subs, perfect for your Meatless Monday. Because you partake in that, right? Oprah really got to you and you can’t go back? I thought so.
Don’t want to juggle a lot of balls? I don’t blame you. Buy the buns at the store (though try to get nice, doughy ones from a good bakery). Pop open a jar of marinara sauce. But don’t skimp on the meatballs. Make these yourself. Because you can adjust the seasoning any way you like and really have at it.
Recipes after the jump…
I don’t know what it is about staying at my parent’s house, but my culinary ambitions really come out. Fresh pasta from scratch, why not? Dumplings with a chicken, mushroom, kale and pepper filling?, of course!
Really, I ventured into dumpling town because I found a dumpling maker in one of their cabinets. It’s a little half-circle contraption that folds in half and crimps the edges of the dough for really easy dumpling assembly. It was like a new toy to play with!
The filling is a mix of chicken and vegetables, along with some asiago cheese. Boiled lightly once they were ready, I tossed them in some brown butter with fresh oregano. And then I devoured everything in this photo. I have a problem with doing this.
Recipe after the jump…
First thought that comes into your mind: Butter Cookies with almonds. Oh, how I’ve fooled you! These are not butter cookies at all, they’re Almond Butter cookies. No butter! Vegan! Sweeeet.
And I feel extra special because I made the almond butter for the Almond Butter Cookies. I should get a gold star. Well, maybe. It’s not like Almond Butter is hard. It’s really more sticky. Easy yes. Hard no. Here’s how we do: toast some almonds (a giant cast iron skillet, medium flame, stir every 30 seconds or so until you smell toasty almonds, remove). Put into food processor. Blend on high until almonds basically liquefy. Or butter-fy. Let’s call it what it really is. I drizzled in a tablespoon of canola oil as it blended to speed it along. And a dash of salt. Mmmm. Salty Almond Butter.
Now the Almond Butter lives in my peanut butter jar. Because all the peanut butter was gone. By no fault of my own. I blame Daniel. And the Kitchen Gods. It wasn’t me! Promise.
These cookies are super easy and can be made in exactly one bowl. We like one bowl. In this case, my Kitchenaid mixer bowl. Double sweeeet.
Did I mention these cookies are vegan? And delicious? And really, really easy to make? Oh, and I served them with raw cow milk from the farmer’s market. Which made them triple sweeeet. Cuz it’s a whole lotta raw on raw action. Raw almonds. Raw milk. That’s pretty raw, dude.
Recipe after the jump.
Apple Pie just makes me think of America. Oh, proud America! What’s more American than a pie? Maybe football. Or Walmart. Or M&Ms. Or, even better, Peanut M&Ms! Joy to us all!
Now, this pie isn’t 100% from scratch like I normally bake. There was a frozen pie crust in the freezer (a nice, organic flour, good quality butter style one, luckily) and several apples left over from Bread-A-Palooza that needed to be eaten. Thus we must eat pie!
Because my family is not the type to shirk a dessert course, it was really for the good of the family. Must keep spirits high when the entire kitchen is covered in flour and the oven is freaking out because its been on for too long!
My pie is topless (ooh!) because I only had one pie crust. You like that? I’m cutting corners like a pro!
I did get to pull out the amazing old school hand apple crank and play Farmer Lindsey for an evening. That was fun. Watch this video and see a boring old lady do it. She’s much more informative than me plus I couldn’t balance a video camera while cranking an apple peeler.
So here’s my pie. Ain’t it pretty? The apples were crunchy, not soggy, and it had just the right amount of sugar, butter, cinnamon and lemon juice to spice them up.
Now, don’t let me mislead you. My grandmother never made pasta. She’s Spanish, not Italian. In fact, I think the closest she ever came to making pasta was boiling some elbow macaroni for a classic 1950′s style pasta salad. You know the kind with the bottled Wishbone Italian Dressing? The little bits of “bell pepper” oozing into a sauce so glossy it shined. Yeah, that one.
Even without a nonna to teach me the way, I’m actually not too bad of a pasta maker. Considering the last time I made it was around age 14. Yes, 14. I thoroughly remember rolling out the dough, running it through a hand crank pasta machine and draping linguine style noodles over every chair in the kitchen. And making a mess. I mean, flour everywhere!
Last night’s pasta session wasn’t too much of a departure. Flour everywhere. The only difference was no pasta machine this time – all by hand, baby. My arms hurt. Rolling pins are no longer my friend, but rather my mortal pasta enemy. Next time, I’m using a machine.
I used a classic egg + flour recipe, painstakingly mixed it by hand and rolled it into a nice, glossy little ball. Fridged it for 30 min then got to rolling.
I cut my pasta into pappardelle, those super wide, long noodles. Boiled them in super salty water and tossed with sauteed romanesco broccoli (the coolest vegetable in existence, my pictures below don’t lie it may as well be prehistoric), ground beef (kind of did a bolognese type deal), diced tomatoes and onions.
Topped the steaming bowl of pasta with some parmesan and mangia! Eat!