I love a good dinner party.

When I first moved to the city, my surrogate family would get together at our apartment and throw a binge on a weekly basis.

Even before we had furniture. (We didn’t have the fancy strip club chairs that adorn Kuffel’s apartmansion)

We lived in a relatively large apartment and had no items of real value, so ours was the place elected to house the feast-fest.

I make a spinach-artichoke dip that appeared at several of these dinner parties, always a hit (though it could have been the tequila talking). It uses fresh spinach and has a ton of cheese. Prepare yourself for an apporgasm.

2 packages fresh spinach, rinsed and stemmed
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 14 oz cans of quartered artichokes, drained and rinsed
Drizzle of olive oil
1 package cream cheese
1 cup grated parmesan cheese
Splash of milk
6 slices provolone cheese
1 tsp cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Saute garlic in the olive oil on low.
Add handfuls of spinach (stir quickly so they don’t wilt too much) follow with artichokes. Salt and pepper.
In a separate saucepan, combine cream cheese, parmesan, cayenne pepper and milk. Mix until creamy and combined.
Add cheese mixture to the spinach artichoke mixture.
Pour into an 8×8 baking dish. Cover the top with provolone cheese.
Bake at 400° for 15 minutes, until the top is bubbling.

Serve with (or in) crusty sourdough bread. (or if you’re a pussy, tortilla chips).
It also pairs well with tequila, wine, and vodka.

For Lynn.

During the mojo pork dinner, I made tomato casserole (like grandma baer used to make).
I thought it might be a food that is baer family specific, because I don’t know anyone else who eats it, but it was a hit.
Light and healthy with a little bit of heat.

2 cans (about 14.5 ounces each) diced tomatoes (I like Del Monte’s basil, garlic, and oregano)
1/2 diced white onion
1 french bread loaf torn into cubes
2 tbsp melted butter
2 tbsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
Cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes to taste
Oregano to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

Sautee onion and garlic in pan in olive oil and butter, add tomatoes, cayenne pepper, red pepper, and oregano.
Combine bread crumbs with contents of pan.
Pour into 1 1/2-quart casserole, ending with a generous crumb topping.
Bake at 400° for about 20 minutes.

Now another one of my childhood favorites:

Wild mushroom bisque.
Yes, sounds fancy. Yes, tastes impressive. Yes, super seductive with all that cream. No, not hard to make.

Cream-based soups are as romantic as hand holding (and to be enjoyed as sparingly, lest ye feel smothered). This is a quick and effortless meal to enjoy on a cold day snuggled in front of the big screen.

1/4 c. butter
1 lb. wild mushrooms, washed and sliced (if you use dried mushrooms, make sure they’ve been rehydrated and drained)
3 shallots, minced
1/4 c. flour
1/2 tsp. salt
Dash of cayenne pepper
1 c. chicken broth
3 c. half and half cream

2 tsp. hot sauce
Salt and pepper to taste
Fresh parsley

Create roux with butter and flour.
(A good roux is cooked on medium heat, slowly adding flour to the melted butter. Don’t burn the butter unless you’re planning on gumbo bisque. The result should be a paste that is light caramel in color with no floury taste)

Add salt and cayenne.

Gradually stir in broth and half and half (I’ve found, for rich flavor’s sake, it’s best to add it early rather than finish with it).

In a separate pan, cook mushrooms and shallots until tender, about 10 minutes. Add mushroom and onion mixture to stock.

Cook, stirring about 5 minutes. Blend soup either with an immersion blender (my favorite new kitchen toy) or in a blender until it reaches your desired consistency. I like mine a little thick. Meaty.

Add hot sauce and season to taste.

This really tastes better the next day after the flavors have had a chance to marry.

When you’re ready to eat it, top with a little crème fraiche and parsley and serve with a side of crusty bread.

It might feel like a heart-attack in a bowl, but don’t all comforts?

Jilly is one of my breast friends.  She brings light to a party and is always the gracious hostess.

We became close comrades at my first job in Advertising: I would pass up important filing jobs so I could ‘assist the art buyer in evaluating some images’ (ok, maybe they were in People), she brought to my attention the EVP’s love of boobs (you couldn’t have a conversation with this woman without her staring your nipples conscerningly), we’d take long lunches tanning by the pool in the summer.  
Even after I high-tailed it out of Detroit, we remained close.

She and her sister came to town one weekend for a visit and stayed with me.  In honor of their attendance, I wanted to do something super-special for them, so I offered to make dinner at my place.

Objective: Super-special and delicious dinner for six.
Challenge: I had to work until 5:30. I am on an advertising budget.
Solution: Grilled pork tenderloin with Mojo sauce (served with goat cheese mashed potatoes and tomato cassarole)

Pork tenderloin is relatively quick, delicious and easy to make, and cheap compared to most other meats.

Mojo Sauce
  1 cup Olive oil
  1 cup Orange Juice (or other citrus juice)
  2 cloves minced Garlic 
  Salt and pepper

Rub down your tenderloin (oh, I love saying that) in garlic, then salt and pepper it.
Marinate it in the mojo sauce for 15-20 minutes (tip: when marinating meat, don’t leave it in an acid for too long, as the meat will start to cook and toughen)
Throw the tenderloin on a medium-high heat, about 3 minutes a side (I always cook it as if there are 3 sides), drizzling the remaining marinade over the meat as it cooks. (tip: don’t puncture the meat while it’s on the grill or the juices will cook out, leaving it less tender)
Set it on a plate to rest for at least 5 minutes. 

Cut 1″ slices on a diagonal and serve with your favorite sides a few very full glasses of wine.  The night was a success.  The client meeting the day after… that’s another story.

Below is an amazing call to the Jimmy Dean hotline.

I’ve always been a fan of Jimmy Dean rolled sausage products, but 12oz is enough for me and my friends/family. And I’ve never had the pleasure of enjoying the sage or maple varietals, but am sure they are very delicious.
Anyone else have Randy’s problem?

The funny thing is, coming from a background as a ‘consumer-geek-a-roid’ in packaged goods, I know exactly how much painstaking research is put into the flavors, size, messaging, etc, that goes into everything that appears on your local store shelves.
But you can’t argue with an enthusiast - It looks like the 16oz is now available.

Be sure to listen all the way through to the end. Then I’ll let you get back to your sausage party…

An Ode to the Hangover Breakfast
(I want Deep-Fried Lemon Curd French Toast with Blueberries inside me)

Hangover Breakfast is a long-standing, deep seeded and sacred ritual among my friends. We come together after a long night to regale; liquor still on our breath and in our bellies, sharing laughs about the night before and nights before that. Hangover Breakfast is not to be confused with the simple act of going to breakfast hungover. It is an event; an hours long activity dedicated to food and friends.
I equate it with a wholesome Sunday dinner. Just not so wholesome. If you don’t know, there are 8 important criteria to constitute a true Hangover Breakfast:

• Hangover Breakfast is never to be held at a place you can order a Grand Slam combo
• There should be Bloody Marys or Mimosas or maybe even a beer
• There should not be families present
• The more complicated your order gets, the more delicious it will be
• Sometimes the tab for Hangover Breakfast is bigger than the tab from the night before. That’s OK, it means you’re doing it right.
• At Hangover Breakfast, “Should I get bacon or sausage links?” is asked as a rhetorical question. An important question for the table is is, “Why do people peel their lips back when they eat toast? What would it look like if people put their lips ON toast?” (because, really, it looks completely ridiculous)
• There should be a Beach Boys song on the jukebox at least twice in a row
• (Arguably most important) There should be some ridiculously decadent entree and maybe an appetizer for the table, all served with a huge dollop of indecency

The bottom line is, we are all there for the food orgy and the dirty conversation. To soak it up.

This french toast is something so ridiculous and sweet and deep fried and decadent that you’ll definitely want to get your lips all over it.
I practically fainted when I read the name of it, and exploded when I tried it.  Holy Paula Dean, we’re having Deep fried Lemon Curd French Toast with Blueberries!
Smooth texture of lemon curd mingling with sweet challah surrounded by a crispy donut outside. Blueberries add a nice tartness and keep it from feeling too heavy.

Keep in mind that you probably shouldn’t be cooking anything for yourself for a Hangover Breakfast (or stationed anywhere near hot oil - unless it was a really good night).

1 loaf (1lb) Challah bread
Lemon Curd
1 quart as-fresh-as-possible blueberries
At least 2 inches of vegetable oil (for the deep frying)
2 large eggs
1 cup fatty milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 teaspoons OJ concentrate
1 1/2 tablespoons plain ol’ white sugar
1/2 teaspoon table salt

Cut cross-wise five 1 1/2 inch thick slices.
Generously spread lemon curd on both sides of the bread.

In a large kettle, heat 2 inches of oil over moderate heat until it reaches 375′F (Please use a thermometer. I’ve had more than one grease fire because of my insistence that I could “eye” when the oil was getting too hot)

In a large bowl, whisk together the remaining ingredients.

Dip bread in the batter (Trick: do not let bread soak). Let excess drip off.

Fry the slices in hot oil, turning frequently, until golden brown on all sides. About 2 minutes.
Transfer to paper towels to drain.

Dust with confectioner’s sugar and serve with blueberries and fresh whipped cream (it’s sweet enough without maple syrup). Tastes best when fed to you. But, then again, doesn’t everything?

I. Love. Fish Tacos.
Love them.

And although it makes me feel like a hard-up lesbian every time I order them at a restaurant, I do. As often as possible.

This one night my friend Tim and I were headed back to my place after the bar when a taxi pulls up in front of my apartment. A guy in his mid-30s pops his head out of the cab. He has at least a half dozen bags of McDonald’s in his lap, “Hey! If you guys help me hold these while I pay, I’ll give you two Diet Cokes”
So sure, why not?

Timmy gives me a devious look, “Look what I got”
He’s holding a waxy, papered Filet-O-Fish sandwich which he quickly stuffs in his pocket.

Grody.

We go upstairs and I commandeer the fish sandwich to try and rescue it by making it into something more delicious. Like a fish taco (which is especially easy since I always have Mexican staples around the house).
I warm up some tortillas, make a quick spicy mayo, flake the “fillet”, and top with diced onions.

We sit down to “enjoy” our meal and take a sip of the cokes. They are full of Rum. Holy generous alcoholic!!
The tacos, mediocre plus. But sometimes you have to work with what you’ve got.

Here’s the recipe with a more suitable fish filling than a McDonald’s filet. Though I wouldn’t recommend them with a rum and coke, I do recommend them strongly.

I’m as happy as a clam every time I eat them, and saved from the embarrassment of ordering it from a waitress who gives me the eye like I’ve asked her to show me her red snapper. (Thank you anyway, I’m happy with the one on my plate).

I’m a traditionalist when it comes to fish tacos and prefer a light fish that’s been fried. However, you can really use whatever kind of fish you want and cook it in any way that pleases you.

Tortillas
Spicy Mayo
1/2 cup real mayonnaise
1 teaspoon of Cayenne Pepper
Juice of one lemon
1 clove of garlic, minced (I prefer 2)
Salt and Pepper to taste
Onions
Shredded cabbage

Fried Fish
A few pieces of Cod
1 cup flour
1 cup club soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
At least 2 inches of vegetable oil for frying

Warm the tortillas in a pan.
Mix the mayo, cayenne pepper, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper in a small dish.
In a large kettle, heat 2 inches of oil over moderate heat until it reaches 375′F (Please use a thermometer. I’ve had more than one grease fire because of my insistence that I could “eye” when the oil was too hot)

Mix the flour, salt, and soda water (mix minimally to keep the batter light). Dip bite sized pieces of fish into the batter, then drop into the oil. (Tip: don’t try to put too many pieces of fish in the oil at one time)

When the fish rises to the top of the oil, it’s done. Let it drain on a paper towel.

Assemble your taco. Enjoy.

Steak Carpaccio makes me want to ride someone (that I care about) reverse cowgirl.

To me, a meal of raw meat is one of the few things that make me want to shout expletives at the top of my lungs.

That primal feeling you get when you tear off a bite; marbleized fats melting and flavor developing on your tongue, sliding around your mouth.

I was a vegetarian for 6 years, 2 of which I spent as a strict vegan. It was a move I made as a teenager in an attempt to be even more difficult to my parents and later developed into a half-hearted “animal rights” platform, thanks to an activist boyfriend.

It was in my next relationship where I rediscovered a passion for food. This boyfriend appreciated fine ingredients and refined flavors like none of my typical meat-and-potatoes friends. It was while watching him prepare a dish of steak tartare that I caved.
Tartare is the meatiest of meat dishes: a hash of minced steak, egg, Worchester sauce and onion served raw on crackers. My introduction back to the world of carnivores was with raw beef and I can say with absolute certainty, that with that bite of knowledge, my relationship with food changed forever.

Years later, at a small, gourmet grocery store in Detroit I came across an amazing deal on Kobe beef. A meat that usually is way out of my tiny, tiny advertising budget was now a smarter move than my typical investment in two packs of Oscar Meyer franks.
I asked the man behind the counter, “Is there something wrong with it?” to which he earnestly answered, “No, we just want people to try it”

I was sold.
Bought two pounds of richly, thoroughly marbleized, premium Kobe beef for an unheard of $8. Headed home to Chicago to figure out what I could do with it
I figured that, with such a fine piece of meat, I’d want to do something really straightforward - that would allow it to stand on its own. No heavy cooking, seasoning, etc.

I decided on making steak Carpaccio, which I had never prepared before (but conveniently caught Alton Brown’s advice on Food Network about it and felt mildly prepared).
Luckily, it was incredibly simple and remarkably delicious.
As I mentioned, the meat should speak for itself. Which means use quality ingredients - this is no time to break out table salt and pre-ground pepper.

I served it over a bed of mixed greens with a lemon vinaigrette.

You’ll need your sharpest knife and a sober hand. It helps to freeze the meat for a few minutes to firm up the texture. Cut paper thin slices of beef and pound it with a mallet (or other heavy object) to flatten even further.
Drizzle a bit of fine olive oil salt and pepper the thinly sliced meat.
Squeeze the juice of two ripe lemons into equal parts olive oil, add salt and pepper. Whisk vigorously.
Toss rinsed mixed greens in the dressing.

Serve on the bed of mixed greens with a few shavings of pecorino romano to make it gorgeous.

I served my Carpaccio with roasted fingerling potatoes with rosemary and olive oil and a cheap bottle of red wine (please see advertising budget). The experience was nothing short of scintillating. Just ask my lucky cowboy.

No. You’re Too Much.

I had started to date a guy whom I thought I was going to like; a tall, Jeremy Irons looking pro-volleyball player. He was generous, easygoing, charming and sweet to my friends.

Things were going splendidly until I started baking. I met up with him and his friends and brought up my recent concoction.
“No. Too Much.”
“What? What do you mean ‘too much’? These are just enough! They are perfect.”
“I’m more of a plain chocolate chip kind of guy.”

Plain chocolate chip guy? Vanilla guy (an insult to vanilla, which I love). I instantly knew that not just these cookies, but I as well, were too much for him.
Things ended quickly and amicably, though I never told him what my real reasons for ending it were.

These are so good, they’ll make you learn your syllables.

3 eggs
1 1/4 cups packed light brown sugar
1 cup granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 12-ounce jar creamy peanut butter
1 stick butter, softened
1 1/2 cups chocolate covered cherries
2 teaspoons baking soda
4 1/2 cups quick-cooking oatmeal (not instant)
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Spray down cookie sheets.

In a very large mixing bowl, combine the eggs and sugars. Mix well.
Add the salt, vanilla, peanut butter, and butter. Mix well.
Stir in the baking soda, oatmeal and chocolate cherries.

Drop by tablespoons 2 inches apart onto cookie sheets.

Bake for 8 to 10 minutes. Do not over bake.
Let stand for about 3 minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool.

Eat them solo. Or with someone who can appreciate them.