Domestic Tuesdays - Not Really Feeling the Domestic, Today

Just to give you a hint of how strange I am when I'm by myself, I just chose between four books in a crowded section of the public library by playing "eeny, meeny, miny, moe". I whispered the rhyme under my breath as I tapped out the rhythm loudly on the covers of the books, not realizing that I was being stared at. Not happy with the outcome that final "moe" produced, I switched the rules and decided that the chosen book would be the last one standing after three rounds. The book above is what I walked away with.

I'm having kind of a crappy day, and I haven't even STARTED writing today's Domestic Tuesdays post. Really, I can't imagine that anyone cares to read about how I made deviled eggs and brought them to a Grey Gardens-viewing party last weekend, but I'll give you photographic evidence of the latter, anyway:
So in lieu of some disastrous pictorial of something that you could easily look up on Google and find, like, eight million recipes for, please accept the strangely overwhelming amount of photographs I have of myself eating or drinking (aka pwning something into my yumhole).

Drinking & Drive-bying

Wednesday was a banner day for me, one of the best in recent memory. The morning started off with a coworker handing me a card that had been passed around the office and signed with sweet messages in honor of Administrative Professionals Day (which I didn't even know existed, let alone was that day). Tucked into the card was a couple Visa gift cards, which only sweetened the deal.

Not five minutes later, I received an email from one Sweetney, she of bloggy fame, alerting me to the fact that I was one of ten commenter's she chose to receive a bookmaking code from the awesome website Blurb. Can you guess the idea I had for a coffee-table book??? Of course, I wanted to make a book featuring the culinary abomination known by one name: The McNuggitini. This means that not only will Alie and I have a book of our masterful creation and the photographs from my sister of the ensuing mayhem, but that we'll be able to sell said book via Blurb. We have all sorts of ideas for add-ins to the book that we'll be working on in the coming weeks (ham daiquiri, anyone?).

This set a good pace for the day, but there was looming thunderclouds ahead in the form of small claims court, and the ex landlord who was taking me there. Yes, after months and months of stressful and emotionally exhausting battles, he had finally served myself and my former roommate with a summons to appear in small claims court for the hijinks's that ensued after we broke our lease to move into a less drive-by shooty neighborhood. I was nervous about the outcome, of course, but either way, I was relieved that it would finally put an end to all the nonsense.

My dad, being the protective and supportive father that he is, accompanied me to court. I was really glad to have him there. While we waited outside the small claims room, ex landlord approached me, to my surprise, and asked if we could talk. He wanted to negotiate, he told me. This actually infuriated me. For the last four and a half months I've been drafting and perfecting my argument against him. Sending certified letters to him, scouring the Internet and interrogating (and probably annoying) friends and acquaintances for their opinions, and generally being harassed by him...and now he wanted to negotiate???

While I don't really have a temper, years of being picked on as a child caused me to have a aggressive reaction when I feel I'm being bullied or taken advantage of. I can tell you that you want to be on my team, should sides ever need to be taken on a matter. I'm stubborn, bossy, indignant, and although I try to see all sides of a story, I won't back down when I feel I'm in the right. In this case? I felt I was in the right.

Later I told my dad, who is calm and collective when under pressure, that he and I played "Good cop, mentally unstable cop". Guess which one I was? I'm proud of myself, though. Even though I knew that in the end we'd probably settle out of court, I gave the landlord a piece of my mind; expressed to him everything I had been put through for the past few months, and threw in a little lip to my ex roommate, for his complete complacency in the matter, and the fact that somehow, the responsibility for the entire situation got hefted onto my shoulders.

I walked out of the courthouse slightly lighter in the wallet, but also with the peace of mind of knowing that we had all signed a contract absolving me from the matter completely. It was over (once I blogged about it, of course, as we all know that nothing is over for a blogger until it's posted). My dad and I celebrated in the best possible way...

with beer and barbecue!!!

Domestic Tuesdays - Once Again, Booze Saves the Day

A couple months ago I threw a little brunch party in my new apartment. I wanted my friends to come over and see my new place, and also, frankly, my friends are really fun when they all congregate in order to do some serious eating and drinking. As we've already established, my apartment is pretty tiny. I wasn't really nervous about cramming everyone in there, though, as I had borrowed some extra chairs from my grandmother (cool vintage chairs from my grandmother's old card table, to boot!) and moved my drum kit out of the way (which also ensured that no one would get drunk and suddenly decide to show off their drum skills, including myself).

No, I wasn't worried about space, or the inevitable sweating that would come from my cramped and badly ventilated apartment...what I was worried about was, say it with me now, "the food". I had nothing to worry about, though. That's not because everything I made turned out alright, no no, I wouldn't be me if that were the case, nor is it because I have enough Xanax to calm a small nation, it's because it turns out that if you make a bowl of sangria big enough for a toddler to bathe in, nothing else really matters.

The salmon tartine I attempted to make; so lovingly laid down pieces of salmon over toasted bread, topped with thin slices of cucumber, salt & pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil? The bread was incredibly chewy, making them difficult to eat. Fail.

The tomato basil elephant ears, which I've made many times in the past with great success, were foiled due to The Great Basil Mishap of '09. The photographic evidence has been destroyed.

And as for the roasted red pepper and goat cheese frittata I intended to make and present with great gusto??? The eggs never left their carton, due to the oven adding unneeded heat into my already sweltering apartment.

So that left me with very little domestic edibles to impress my friends with. Add to that, my friend Jonah swooped in and "threw together" a few things that ended up tasting and looking way better than I could have hoped for my own meager contributions (I'm stealing his photos from the party for this post, as revenge).

Luckily, the easiest, tastiest, most photographable of my menu items turned out spectacular, and I'm happy to be able to share it with you should you ever find yourself in a pickle when entertaining your friends and a tub of sangria won't sufice.

Nutella Croissants

The recipe I found for these called for those tubes of ready-made croissants you find at the grocery store, but I wanted to make something a little more fancy, so I opted for puff pastry. Don't be intimidated if you've never worked with puff pastry before - it's incredibly simple and fool proof. The ethnic market by my house sold frozen squares of puff pastry for pretty cheap, so I bought a few packages, and picked up a tub of hazelnut spread (Nutella works, as does any generic brand).

Start by cutting the squares in half, so they are triangles, and spreading about a tablespoon of hazelnut spread in the center so the outer edges are bare.

Using your fingers and a dab of water, wet the bare sides to ensure it stays together once you roll. Starting a the bottom, roll until you get to the tip.

At the tip (god this is starting to sound dirty...or else I just have a dirty mind) press down lightly to ensure the croissant stays sealed when it puffs up in the oven.

Now bring the ends around, and press firmly to seal them together.

Like this.

Pretty already!!!

Place them on a sprayed or tin foiled baking sheet and pop them into a preheated 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes (keeping an eye on them so they don't burn!). Then pull those fuckers apart and scald the ever-loving-hell out of the roof of your mouth...wait five more minutes, then try again.

Pretty successful party, I would say...

the sangria would agree.

Velociraptors and Bloggers Live Here! So Live In Fear!

Ever since I've moved into my apartment, almost four months ago, I've been nothing but happy with my new living situation. My apartment itself is adorable and cozy and feels like home. Even though I live on top of a freeway, the sounds that emanate from it are nothing more than a relaxing hum, and the stomps and shouts from outside my door in the hallway have become familiar background noise.

Even my next door neighbors who fight constantly aren't a nuisance, as their bickering and even more-so, their screaming matches, reinforce my happiness with my "single" status and are also quite amusing. If they happen to be reading this: Ashley - you are a controlling, manipulative, probably manic depressive nut-job, and I truly feel sorry for your boyfriend and his constant need to apologize lest you fly off in a rage and stomp out of the apartment in a dramatic huff. Boyfriend whose name I don't know - grow a pair. also stop crying in the hallway at two in the morning when you and your girlfriend come home drunk. it's unbecoming.

Anyway! The second best thing about my living situation is that my good friend/sometimes nemesis Ben will be living in an apartment in my building by the end of the month so I'll have someone to cook for (although he'll also be forced to photograph me cooking for Domestic Tuesdays). The very BEST thing about my apartment building though, is this flier that was posted above the mailboxes when I got home the other day. I have no idea as to the what/where/who/why of it all, and I can't even begin to explain it, so I'm just going to post the photos below, and let you marvel in the absurd delight of it all.

Velociraptors are here! So live in fear!

It's been over a decade since Jurassic Park opened, and I still size up buildings for their potential as shelter against velociraptor attacks.

Know the facts.

1. Velociraptor attack is the 3rd leading cause of death for men age 27-29. However, everyone must think about the implications of velociraptors: young and old men, woman and transgendered persons.

2. Velociraptors can accelerate 4 m/s2, with a top speed of 25 m/s on open terrain, 10 m/s while wounded, and 10 m/s in indoor laboratories.

3. Velociraptors hunt in packs, and are known to form an equilateral triangle around its prey.

4. Velociraptors do not know fear.

Happy Monday, Chickens!

Domestic Tuesdays - My Jewish Cookies (wink wink)

I want to say I have a "sweet tooth", but the reality is, it's more of a "hungry tooth". Granted, I always crave a little something sweet after a meal, but I would be just as happy with sour cream and onion chips as I would be with ice cream. As the Descendents once fittingly put it in the song by the same name, "I like food, food tastes good".*

*sidenote: did you know that there's a cookbook by the same name that features recipes from various indie rock bands?? weird shit, dude.

But it's true that when one is craving something truly sweet, nothing savory will suffice. For those times, the following two recipes are cheap and easy fixes.

Lets start with my favorite. I made this for my weekly Lost pot luck night, but then gave it to everyone who came near me in the next couple days in hopes of getting it out of my house. This is because it is dangerous. I think I may have made chocolate-covered caramelized crack cocaine, instead of what the recipe said it was:

Chocolate-Covered Caramelized Matzo

Start by laying out sheets of matzo (I like the salted variety), breaking up pieces to fill the tin foil covered baking sheet. I got this recipe from Smitten Kitchen, who got it from someone else, who got it from someone else, but I'm crediting Smitten because I adore her.

While the oven is preheating to 350, toss two sticks of butter and a cup of brown sugar into a saucepan (did I mention that this is NOT a lowfat recipe??) with the heat on medium-high.

Whisk until that shit starts to bubble. At this point you're going to be tempted to dip your entire hand in the caramel mixture, but I'd advise against that unless you like a little burning with your yummy. After letting it bubble for about three more minutes, while stirring, add a half a teaspoon of vanilla and a pinch of salt off the heat.

After pouring the caramel over the matzo and spreading it around to coat (do this quickly, as it begins to set right away), the mixture should be cool enough for you to pwn the unused caramel directly into your yumhole.

Keepin' it classy. Also, hard evidence as to why I ALWAYS have bangs.

The recipe calls for 15 minutes in the oven, but this ended up almost burning my precious candy, so I lowered the heat to about 325. Keep an eye on it to make sure you don't burn that shizz.

Out of the oven, pour the chocolate chips onto the hot matzo(I used semi sweet dark chocolate) (also, who wants to start a band called Hot Matzo??). It's going to seem like not enough chocolate, but once it melts, it'll be fine. I disregarded the recipe and put on too many chocolate chips...although, can there really ever be too many chocolate chips?? (no, there can not) After five minutes, you should be able to spread the melting chocolate over the carmel layer.

This is the closest shot of an "end result" you're going to get. Even though I displayed the finished candy (brake up into pieces once it's cooled, like "bark") in one of my beautiful vintage crystal bowls, every time I'd start eating it my brain would go into some sort of drugged coma and I'd forget to snap a photo. Yeah, it's that good. Find the more-coherent Smitten Kitchen recipe here.

This next recipe was ordained upon me by my mother for the occasion of my family Passover dinner over the weekend. Happy to get an assignment more grown-up than "pick up a bottle of red wine", I didn't want to fuck this up. To ensure that I didn't leave out one of the five ingredients (yes! just five ingredients!) I trekked to my grandma's house early to be supervised (and photographed) by my domestically-abled older sister, who was busy with her own (way more grown-up) dinner assignments.

My sister: the mature one in the family (no seriously. I actually told her to hold them up like that.)

Macaroons!

This recipe is incredibly easy, as you can probably surmise from the minuscule ingredient list, yet I still managed to fuck them up a little. The first thing I did wrong was that the eggs were too cold. They're supposed to be at room temperature and I didn't remember that till an hour before I had to start baking. Sue me.

The second fail is that I refuse to buy parchment paper because it seems like a stupid and unnecessary purchase...until I decide to bake something that calls for it to be put on the baking sheet lest you want all the cookies you put so much hard work into stick stubbornly to the baking sheet, even though you coated that mother fucker with butter, dammit.

But when have you known me to be the type of person to let a little stress get in the way of looking cute? Never, that's when.

Take those two room temp (ha!) egg whites and, using an electric mixer because there's no way to sufficiently whisk them into firm peaks by hand, beat the shit out of them.

Oh wait. Did I say I made two mistakes?? What I meant by "two", was "three". That third mistake was returning my hand-held mixer the previous week because it kinda sucked.

Again with the non stressed-out cuteness! Damn I'm good at this "domestic" thing. And so modest, too!

God this is getting to be a long post. Lets shorten it up, shall we?

Do this with the batter.

Until it looks like this.

Let your sister eat the leftover batter because she helped you, but also cause she's your big sister so you have to do what she says.

Put them in the oven at 325 until they look like this.

If, for some reason, you can't follow directions, you can find a recipe that's more "thorough" and "easy to follow" here. You can also impress your friends (IE. cover up the burnt bottoms) by dipping them in melted chocolate and letting them cool on parchme...oh fuck it, just eat em.