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YAY for getting up and cooking breakfast!

I’m sure I’ve blogged about breakfast in the South, but today, I managed to rouse myself from bed at the crack of noon due to a particularly nasty sinus headache, and I started cooking. I made grits, toast, and bacon (Morning Star, of course.)

In addition to this, I sliced up cucumbers, tomatoes, and bananas- this is the closest thing to the so-called “balanced” breakfast that I could figure out under the circumstances. We’re fresh out of eggs, something I should remedy in the near future.

And the sinus headache pounds away, even after taking Sudafed and Goody powder, yikes- not good, not good- I need a Neti pot!

Bapaw praised my scrambled eggs from the other night. The problem is that I have no idea what I did differently, except that I may have prayed before making them, and I’m not even sure about that. Attempting to offer literally everything one does to God is a great endeavor, and if you offer something to God, He makes it His own- this is an important lesson to learn, spiritually, if not a difficult one.

That being said, I’m going to apologize to everyone for my increasingly shortened blogs. There’s a lot going on that I can’t exactly mention in here, though I have documented it deeply elsewhere. Things have changed immensely in the past three weeks or so, and because of the immense changes, I’m having more trouble than usual keeping my mind focused on practical things like doing the Post-a-Day challenge. Several times I’ve considered dropping down to the Post-a-Week challenge, but as much as I love writing, that would destroy almost all motivation and sense of pressure, the sense of the daily “deadline.”

As many of you may have noticed, my blogs are coming at random times in the evening now. That’s because I’ve decided to simply post my blogs when I write them instead of scheduling them to post at any particular time- the people who are going to read them are going to read them, and so there’s no point in setting a particular time unless I’m posting into the future. Most of the blogs from the past few weeks have been day-to-day posts instead of the two-week’s-worth of blogs that are written at once and then scheduled to post later on.

So go cook breakfast for dinner since I cooked it for lunch. How’s that for a non-sequitur?

Beaux


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Posted by on May 17, 2011 in food

 

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Spicy Hash Brown Story of Joy, Movement 2

Remember how I made a super delicious hash brown and chicken dish a few blogs ago?

I discovered the next day that I had a leftover hash brown.

Tears of joy welled in my eyes, for I had thought they were all consumed the previous night.

I decided to make a breakfast variety of the dish with my new found glory of a potato patty.


In addition to the hash brown, I had a fried egg and a spicy ketchup mixture.

The result was a truly delicious breakfast concoction.

What you need:

  • hash browns/potato patties
  • an egg for each hash brown prepared
  • 1 to 2 Tablespoons of ketchup
  • 1/2 teaspoon of chili powder
  • 1 to 2 teaspoons of cumin
  • salt, pepper, and parsley to taste

What you do:

  • prepare the hash browns as instructed on the packaging
  • fry an egg for each hash brown
  • combine the ketchup, chili powder, and cumin
  • spread the ketchup mixture on the hash brown
  • add the fried egg on top
  • sprinkle with salt, pepper, and parsley

This can also be served on toast, which enriches the flavor a bit.

If you prefer a milder dish, you can skip the pepper and chili powder.

This recipe is very easy to make and is a great breakfast food, though I ended up having it around dinner time.

You could also layer things by sandwiching the egg between two hash browns and filling it with more ketchup or even cheese.

Happy eating!

Beaux


 
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Posted by on January 28, 2011 in breakfast, food, postaday2011

 

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Cream Cheese Pound Cake

Since I did the blogs remembering my adventures at Ms. Alice’s house, I decided it would be a good idea to post recipes for the various foods I mentioned.

Pound cake is one of those foods. No one should miss out on pound cake.

What you need:

  • 3 sticks margarine
  • 8 ounces of cream cheese
  • 3 cups of sugar
  • 6 eggs
  • 3 cups of cake flour
  • 1 teaspoon of flavoring (usually this is vanilla extract)

What you do:

  • Make the cream FIRST. Mix the MARGARINE, CREAM CHEESE, and SUGAR together in a mixer.
  • Add the EGGS, SLOWLY and ONE AT A TIME.
  • Add the FLOUR; mix well.
  • Add the flavoring.

Now, what you do:

  • Mix well and pour into a greased, floured pan. Bake at 350ยบ for one hour and 20 minutes to one hour and 40 minutes.

I should add something about letting the cake cool afterwards, and flipping it out of the Bundt pan onto the cake stand.

My recommendation: serve the pound cake with dark coffee. The bitterness of the coffee will complement the sweetness of the cake.

Beaux


 
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Posted by on January 16, 2011 in food

 

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Ms. Alice’s Wonderland, Part 3

Ms. Alice made the best pound cakes. I think she also made tea cakes, but I can’t remember. Tea cakes, for those of you who have never heard of them, are more commonly called sugar cookies.


The pound cakes were interesting not just because of how they tasted, but because I was able to watch the process of their being made, of Ms. Alice sifting flour, combining ingredients, and cracking eggs. Because she lived on a farm, her eggs were as fresh as they could be.


A pound cake.

I learned at an early age that eggs came in different colors. There isn’t really any difference in taste, because it’s just the shell that’s a different color- but as a child, eggs of different colors was another thing about the world to celebrate, about which to be excited.

I think it’s really funny to imagine myself at age three or four being ecstatic out of my mind over the fact that eggs came in different colors, but that’s how life was for me.

Also, when I was happy, I became very loud in my attempt to share the joy.

But you learn early on that no matter how loudly you share your own joy, some people aren’t interested in it- and you learn to have private celebrations, which is also okay!

I have a lot of private celebrations these days.

The mixer was always interesting to me- watching how the cake batter rippled and tossed back on itself. Then Ms. Alice would pour the batter into the Bundt pan and bake it. I can’t remember if she let us lick the detachable mixers or not.

If you’ve never eaten raw cake batter off of a mixer, I suggest you go do that right now. You’ll understand why I mentioned it.

It was mind-blowing to a three-year-old how the strange, gooey batter would transform into a beautiful cake, complete with browned crust. The crust of a pound cake was always my favorite part, and that still holds true today.

Allow me to emphasize how much I loved Ms. Alice’s pound cakes. If it were possible to flog words in way more creative than simply repeating myself over and over again or writing the text in bold, I would do it. To this day I can find no better breakfast for myself than a piece of pound cake and a strong, dark coffee.

My mom makes a mean cream cheese pound cake, but it isn’t Ms. Alice’s. It is, however, good, and I’ll post her recipe in here in an upcoming blog.

Ms. Alice also frequently had other sweets at her house. Donuts from the store were a big treat. These where the kind of donuts that were packed into a box together and had an imprint on them- they have the criss-cross pattern on the side. They’re honestly the best donuts I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve never found donuts that taste quite like those.

I want to say she also kept Creme Drops- I know my grandparents did.


If you’ve never had Creme Drops, you’re missing out. Seriously.

One of the best things I had at her house was frozen strawberry yogurt. I’ve never tasted anything like it. Normal yogurt you get at the store is far creamier than this, and regular strawberry ice cream tastes different. I’m not sure how to explain how unique it tasted.

The frozen strawberry yogurt even had small pieces of actual strawberry in it, something I had never eaten at that age. I can’t remember the brand name or anything, but I vaguely recall the container it came in.

I also remember Ms. Alice making juice. She used the frozen orange juice concentrate. I always though it was fascinating that she could open a can from the freezer, and then mix what looked like frozen orange juice into a pitcher of water, and then we’d suddenly have something to drink, and a lot of it, at that.

At other times, we would have a drink of water. Ms. Alice called this “a swallow of water.” Above the kitchen sink hung a ladle, and she would put water in it and let us drink out of the ladle. The water was always cold and refreshing.

That’s it for this entry, but I have another one coming soon!

Beaux


 
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Posted by on January 9, 2011 in food

 

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The Great Late-Night Ramen Adventure

Sometimes I wonder why exactly my life pans out the way it does. (Haha, see? I used a pun that involves the word ‘pan’ because this is cooking blog! Score!) The weirdest things happen, and the late-night ramen adventure is no different.

The order of events happened like this: Tyler and I were getting ready for bed. I realized I hadn’t eaten very much that day, but I decided to tough it out- after all, we were going to sleep, I was tired, I didn’t want to be awake anymore.

Because of the holidays and having been at my parents’ house, suddenly the whole process of staying up until the wee hours of the morning and then sleeping until the crack of dusk had upset the circadian rhythm of my body, and I lay in bed for an hour.

Then began the spooky noises.

Tyler’s house is huge and over 100 years old. Also, none of THREE doors to his bedroom lock, and two of them are basically windows. The scariest of these doors is covered with a blanket and luckily has a shelf in front of it. The second scariest of these doors is somewhat out of view and covered with blinds from the other side. The third scariest door is actually the one we use to get in and out of the room and is a swinging door.

Needless to say, the scary noises began coming from all three directions, progressively beginning with the spare bedroom and making its way around to the swinging door.

At this point, I figured that taking a bendryl was my only source of soporific salvation, so I downed a pink pill and got up.

I also began to realize how intensely hungry I was.

Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot of options in the house, and by now it was well past midnight. I went into the living room, turned on the light, turned on the TV, and luckily saw no ghosts, demons, other supernatural entities, and no serial killers or rapists. Also, there were no rabid bunnies out to get me, so I scored major Staying Alive points.

There also weren’t many options for meals. They boiled down (heehee, another food pun) to eggs (even funnier since you can boil eggs!) or ramen (also something you can boil!) I opted for ramen.

Tyler was still asleep, and I didn’t want to wake him. The kitchen is only a few feet from his room, so my late-night-on-benadryl reasoning skills thought that the best course of action was to obtain ramen and cook it in the microwave.

I opened the ramen, and it was extremely noisy. For anyone who has ever made an attempt to be as quiet as possible at 1:30 AM and not awaken other people, I advise heavily to not try to open ramen, because the packaging is composed of the world’s crackliest sounding paper.

Then the Hunt for a Clean Bowl began. I found one in the cabinet and reassured my growling stomach that things were going to be settled soon enough.

But the bowl had obviously been placed under a spell to be used only by gnomes, and the brick of ramen did not fit in it. I was defeated again.

I was extremely irked by this time, so I decided to do what anyone who was basically starving in the middle of the night and trying to keep quiet would do- I decided to eat the Ramen Brick raw.

This was a mistake.

Dear Reader, if you are wondering, I have in my life eaten ramen raw. This was an adventurous and and life-changing experience when I was a teenager, but now as a young adult, I am less capable of bringing myself to do something so treacherous.

The ramen was stale. If you have never had stale ramen or don’t believe that ramen can go stale, I can reassure you now that ramen does indeed go stale.

Using again the late-night brain skills, I made a guess that if you cook stale ramen, the staleness goes away. This seemed logical- if you cook stale bread and make toast, it no longer tastes stale. So the same should apply to noodles.

As quietly as possible, I found the world’s smallest pot, filled it with water, salted it, and put it on the stove to boil the water.

Then the stove started smoking.

Good. GRIEF.

The middle of the night, I’m starving, the benadryl is slowing beginning to seep into my brain cells, and suddenly the stove is almost on fire.

I turned the heat down, and the smoking stopped. But this also meant I had to wait longer for the water to boil and for the ramen to cook.

Finally, it was done. I added a bit of cajun seasoning, and then dug in.

Disgusting.

Apparently, stale ramen, if cooked, remains stale tasting.

So I dumped out the stale ramen and became less adverse to making noise.

Fortunately, the second time around, the stove didn’t start smoking, the ramen cooked, it wasn’t stale (I took a test bite of the raw brick to make sure), and I was able to salt and season it perfectly. I sat in my benadryl state of mind and watched a few minutes of extremely lame super-late night TV, and then I went to bed, passing out into the bliss of the benadryl brain-state, full of ramen.

Also, I seriously scored well for not awakening Tyler whatsoever, as I found out the next day.

Beaux


 
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Posted by on January 1, 2011 in food

 

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The Shocking Tuna Salad

So I just finished eating a tuna salad sandwich. Tuna salad happens to be one of my favorite foods and is relatively easy to make. Also, I make the world’s best tuna salad, and no one else has ever topped mine in the history of mankind, at least when it comes to my own taste buds.

Imagine my surprise and delight to walk into the kitchen today to discover my mother had made a regular salad and a tuna salad. Not only that, the regular salad even had cheese in it. Cheese! I love cheese!

Refocusing, I naturally made myself a tuna salad sandwich. I couldn’t resist it.

Halfway through the sandwich, I bit into something that tasted odd. Mushy, sweet. Too sweet to be an onion.

I had to remove it, because I couldn’t continue eating it. Maybe it was just a mishap, I told myself- a really sweet onion after all.

Then it happened again. At this point, I was confused, and the more I chewed and tasted, the more I was confused. Again, a removal, an avoidance.

I examined the uneaten piece of sweetness from the tuna salad, and it looked remarkably like pineapple. Still unsure, I had to actually ask my mother about this.

She revealed to me that it was apple.

Apple.

Apples in tuna salad.

Somehow I, the mega-awesome chef master-of-tuna-salad, was tricked into eating tuna salad made with apples.

Hopefully the gods of the kitchen will forgive my offenses in doing so. Apples in tuna salad, I can avow whole-heartedly, are not my thing. Maybe others have had better experiences with this.

Also, many people, including my own mother, seem to really love having eggs in their tuna salad. I’m not a huge fan of boiled eggs, much less boiled eggs in tuna salad, so it’s strange to have the combination of apples and eggs together with onions, bell pepper, and fish. I’m not sure my brain can really comprehend what just happened in my mouth earlier, especially since I was eating mustard on my sandwich.

Beaux


 
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Posted by on December 28, 2010 in food

 

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The Thanksgiving Files: My Dressing

Thanksgiving, at least for me and Tyler, was celebrated over the course of an entire week and involved three different dinners that we attended.

Because of the sheer number of photos that I had to take, these blogs will be broken up into a series so that none of us will be overwhelmed by them.

The most recent Thanksgiving affair saw us venturing to Dothan with a dressing and a home-made, entirely made from scratch sweet potato pie.

I made the dressing. Having only made dressing once before, the entire venture was daunting to me, but I managed to persevere notwithstanding.

The dressing consisted of regular bread crumbs which took forever to tear apart, chopped celery and onion which Tyler kindly prepared for me, two eggs, spices included sage, and chicken bouillon spiced up just right.

This was all mixed together, put in a glass casserole dish, and popped into the oven at 425 degrees.

Little did I know how long the dish was actually going to take to cook. The result was something like 30-40 minutes, and I thought it would only take about 15. Also, it was reheated at Kelly’s house.

The result?


Nothing short of a beautiful and delectable dressing!

Interestingly enough, most of the dressing I’ve eaten in my life used cornbread. I used regular bread and the dressing still turned out to be amazing, something for which I’m truly grateful. There was also something of a hint of cornbread taste to it, so I’m wondering what I did to cause that particular flavor?

My dressing turned out both flavorful and moist, which is something that I highly prize in dressing. Too often I’ve eaten dry dressing, and while dried out dressing complements its sister side dish cranberry sauce rather well, I much prefer the moist variety.

I hope everyone had as great of a Thanksgiving holiday as I did! What’s your favorite dish?

Beaux


 
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Posted by on November 30, 2010 in food

 

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