Breakfast In A Time Of Sorrow

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When things are terrible, I find it helps to seek beauty in small places. This morning I toasted a blue corn tortilla over the open flame of a gas stove, laid a slice of pepperjack cheese over it, poached one of Betty Lou's eggs and chopped a fragrant golden tomato. Then I drizzled the whole thing with olive oil and sprinkled it with rough sea salt. I made good coffee.
Sometimes, this is enough.

A Tale of Two Chickens, 1

Dear reader, I am a newlywed.

The main thing I've learned about marriage so far is that I don't know anything about marriage. I think it falls into the category of something you only learn by doing. And there are lots of surprises...

Recently, my lovely husband Adam came home at lunchtime. "Baby, I got you a present! It's in the car." he said. "We can build it together!"
Aww man, I thought. That doesn't sound like earrings. "Can I eat lunch before we build anything?" I asked.
"Well come to the car and see it!" He was lit up with little boy excitement so I walked to the car and he opened the passenger side. On the floor were two very tall paper bags, closed at the top, with little slits on the side.
"What is it?" I asked. "Listen," he replied. I leaned in and as I got closer one of the bags began to shake, which got the other one shaking and then I heard it: bwak bwak bwak. Bwak bwaaaak, bwak bwak.
Oh God, I thought. Not chickens. "Are they chickens?" I asked.
"Yes!" So jubilant. "My mom had chickens when I was growing up, they're great! I like the sounds they make, and baby I wanted you to have fresh eggs. The coop is in the back, we can build it together!"
I was very suspicious about this turn of events, but tried to focus on the greater good. And I did like the idea of fresh eggs. My fantastic Great-Grandma Pat had neighbors who gave her eggs from their chickens, and I remembered the bright orange yolks and better taste. Ok, I'm in.
Plus, I got to name them. Dear reader, meet Betty Lou and Tiina Fey.
Betty Lou is the lighter one. They're Rhode Island Reds and were raised together. According to Adam they're pretty friendly chickens. We decided they'd be free range. Though their coop is nice, all living creatures prefer to run around, stretch their wings. We'll probably have to get their wings clipped so they don't fly over the fence. I hope it doesn't hurt them.
We were worried about Sam the Dog, but it looks like he's too old to catch them. He growled as they first walked by and tried to lunge at them, but by the time he stood up they were three feet away. Then Tiina Fey jumped on his head and pecked at him and he barked and ran off. I think they'll be fine.
So please join us on our fowl adventure! Oh lord, here we go...

Pringles Restaurant Cravers: Terrible, Terrible Food

Dear reader, a confession: I love trashy junk food. Sure, I'm happy to discuss the ephemeral notes of clover in stinky Époisses cheese or each ingredient in your favorite sauce, but I also lust for Bugles. And the awesome Snyder's chips of my youth, which came in flavors like Steak & Onion or Kosher Dill. Delish. No raised nose here, bring it.
But I abhor bad trash.
I was in the grocery store a few weeks ago, starving for a snack to get me through rush hour on the 10 freeway and I happened upon Pringles' "Restaurant Cravers" Mozzarella Sticks & Marinara chips. I thought to myself, what genius marketing! We're in a recession, people are eating out less; they can munch on these and pretend they're at Applebee's or Friday's (which I despise. Again, bad trash is no good.).
I make it to my car before I tear the can open, and what awaits? They taste like Pringles sprinkled with powdered Campbell's tomato soup. There's an empty tomato note and that's it. No cheesy goodness, no hit of oregano or spike of garlic.
After a handful, all I desperately wanted was to take the nearest exit and go to a restaurant to eat real food. Their marketing completely backfired, and instead became a cruel taunt: No restaurant for you, commuter! Only metallic tomato powder chips! Suffer.
What a waste of $1.73. Bad trash!

Real Damn Pizza

Dear reader, I know it's been months. I'm sorry. I moved and got married, lost clients in this recession-- in short, I've been distracted. But last week I spent some time with my uber-achieving friends in Brooklyn, and while I was there I ate real pizza.
I'd forgotten. In L.A., unless you're traipsing through Pizzeria Mozza (heaven in the mouth, but a bit snooty to actually go there), you're eating triangles of doughy, bland crap. Oh sure I've been to Damiano's where it's so dark you can't see your slice but it tastes alright (especially if you've been drinking), but mostly I'd stopped. In the land of fab tacos, why bother seeking puffy pizza?
But my friend Amy took me to Grimaldi's, and this is what we ate:

I forgot that good pizza makes your toes curl. I forgot how nice it was to see hot Italian guys working in an actual Italian restaurant. I forgot that a proper slice makes that crackling sound when you fold it in half.
I'm back, friends. And damn am I hungry.

What a Cook Wants, 11

Faux-scratch Cookies
I am very, very tired, dear readers. The move went well, but I'm beat! So when contemplating an ideal gift, today I'm envisioning a very tired, slightly cranky cook who can't find most of her kitchen tools and toys because they're ALL IN BOXES. Rrrrgh.
What does that cook need, besides a nap and perhaps a massage? Holiday cookies that aren't "from scratch" but rather "faux scratch". Enter The Lazy Baker cookie mix. The company's founder used to make cookies with her Nanny from Czechoslovakia, but as a kid would only show up at the end for the fun part. Well, I'm ready for the fun part and I bet you are too. Mmm, cookies. Then we can all enjoy some good cheer!
The Lazy Baker cookie mixes in chocolate chip, oatmeal cherry raisin, double chocolate chip, brown sugar pecan shortbread and holiday gingerbread, each $11 except the gingerbread, which is on sale for $9. At Whole Foods and Bristol Farms on the West Coast, otherwise you have to use the interwebs.