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Shaved Brussels Sprouts with Frizzled Ham

thepeche — Wed, 28 Dec 2011 14:00:30 +0000

We threw our Christmas tree out the front door on December 26th. Just 24 hours after all the presents were unwrapped, we were done. It may have had something to do with a comment made by Karen’s hair stylist who said he had heard you carry the karma of the previous year into the new year if you have your tree standing when the clock strikes midnight on January 1st.

We’re not big believers in karma (or much else, for that matter), but we have no desire to repeat 2011. Karen said it best when she suggested 2011 deserved a punch in the face and a kick in the ass.

And that’s why our Christmas tree is lying naked in our front yard. Best not take chances, you know, given our recent history.

So. 2012. Onward. To bigger, happy things. To having our best year yet. To planting roots in a new place. To making new friends. To claiming our current situation as our own and making the absolute best of it. Better than what we thought. To holding our kids close. To laughing harder. To cooking with them. To putting an excessive amount of Hello Kitty bandages on scraped twin knees. To knowing the entire Star Wars history better than any person should because that is what makes the boy happy. To playing a game in which to win one must feed a plastic toy dog a series of neon yellow “treats,” only to expel these treats out the other end of the dog on to little plastic toy shovels,amidst howls of laughter from the kids. To silent moments of trips to the potty with each of the twins while they are sleeping so there are no accidents in the middle of the night, dancing them back to bed and telling them they are funny and smart and strong and can do whatever they want to do when they are older. To getting older with the most beautiful woman in the world, whose smile melts me because she puts up with my shenanigans and still loves me.

To being better. And stronger. And calmer. And peacefilled-er. And more of whatever else we need to be.

2012 sort of feels like it’s gonna be our year. No matter if it agrees with us or not. It’s gonna be better.

It has to be better.

As I head up north to Indiana to visit my parents and brothers and their families, just me and the kids in the blue minivan and Tangled and How to Train Your Dragon on repeat, leaving Karen in Atlanta to have a break from all that 2011 was, we thought we’d share some love with you.

Before recent events, the National Pork Board asked us if we wanted to do a little giveaway with them. We said yes, because they’re swell people and kind and also, you know, bacon. They’ve got a great collection of recipes for celebrating, and knowing how much we like Brussels sprouts,they asked us to take their sprouts recipe created by Jill Silverman Hough for a spin and see what we thought.

And we liked it. We really, really liked it.

Brussels Sprouts with Frizzled Ham from Jill Silverman Hough and the National Pork Board

Frizzled ham. It’s our new favorite thing. Thinly sliced ham cut into fettucini-sized strips of porky goodness, dropped into sizzling hot oil. That popping sound of the pork as it browns in the pan...there’s no other word for it that “frizzled.” A pile of sliced sprouts (the food processor slicing blade is your friend), garlic, and a fresh and happy kick from the zest and juice of Clementine oranges (they’re the only citrus we had in the house, and they worked well). Tarragon vinegar for the final punch, and the buttery+nutty flavor of pine nuts. Topped with the frizzled ham and served steaming hot.

This is a kicked up side, that while completely different than our SproutKraut, is just as satisfying. I’m making it for parents and brothers and their families this weekend while we celebrate a late Christmas together.

So Jill and the National Pork Board have a whole set of recipes for you to check out and devour. And one of you lucky readers was going to get a little bit of something fun to start the New Year right.

But. And I’m not saying we believe in karma.

But...

To start the New Year off even righter, one of you will win the entire thank you package the National Pork Board sent our way and the something fun originally planned. Here’s what the entire prize package now includes:

Two Jill Silverman Hough cookbooks:
- 100 Perfect Pairings: Main Dishes to Enjoy with the Wines You Love
- 100 Perfect Pairings: Small Plates to Enjoy with the Wines You Love
An instant-read digital thermometer, perfect for getting a pork roast cooked just right.
A four-piece serving set from Crate & Barrel. It is shiny.
A very cool six-piece set of Martha Stewart melamine serving/mixing bowls. The nesting kind. Saves space. Looks cool.
Oh. And $100 worth of American Express Gift Certificates. You know, to buy yourself something pretty.

That prize package totals just over $200. That’s fun.

Here’s how to enter:

Check out the recipes from Jill Silverman Hough from the National Pork Board.
Leave a comment below telling us your big wish for you and your loved ones for 2012. That’s it. It doesn’t have to involve pork (but most of our wishes do).
Leave your comment by January 3, 2012 at 8:00 p.m.
Please see the section below entitled “Here’s how to lose.” It contains the one thing you can say to automatically be disqualified.
All qualified entries are entered to win the amazing awesomeness from the National Pork Board and the two of us.
We will choose the winner randomly via random.org from all qualified entries and announce on January4, 2012.

Here’s how to lose:
If you tell us why throwing out our Christmas tree on December 26 is a bad idea and why you leave yours up through the first week of January, blah blah blah, you’re disqualified. I’m joking. Except I’m not. I’m sort of joking. But no, really, I’m not. You are totally disqualified.

Now, go read the sweet recipes from Jill Silverman Hough and the National Pork Board and download the PDF version for your files.

And go dream of a pork-filled year.

And something better soon.

Here’s to 2012.

Remember, leave your 2012 wish for you and your loved ones in the comments below. And don’t mention the Christmas tree.

Pear and Pecorino Ravioli

thepeche — Sat, 17 Dec 2011 13:52:28 +0000

Karen’s parents both fell two weeks ago.

One resulted in a likely cracked rib.

The other resulted in a coma.

Karen’s parents aren’t old. They shouldn’t be falling.

Long divorced, to learn on the same day that they had fallen, was eerie. And heartbreaking.

Standing alongside your wife, as she tries to keep tabs on her mother, who assures us she’ll be OK even though we know there’s more pain than she’s really letting on...while she’s dealing with nurses and doctors and relatives and lawyers and accountants and neighbors...it’s a maddening feeling, my not being able to fix this.

But there may be little left of her dad to fix.

He should be, the doctors and nurses say, he should be coming off the ventilator. His body doesn’t agree. There is bleeding in his brain. And there is swelling. And there is pneumonia. And heart failure came along like a dirty little bastard because his body simply didn’t have enough to deal with.

He went into the hospital talking. About falling down the stairs. About the neighbor who found him. About his two daughters.

And that was it.

That was all he said.

And then he was in a coma.

Best case, the doctors say, is that he will have extremely limited verbal and physical ability.

Best case.

“He won’t be the same person he was if he wakes up.”

If.

We were ready to rally. We know how to quickly mobilize and solve shit. That is what we do.

But her dad’s body is simply unable to rally, to gain traction on something, to pull him out of his state of somewhere else.

And so we all wait.

Suspended.

And since there is no way to solve this one, no way to fix this...we cook.

We need busy hands. Kids and a job fill most of that need. But at night while we’re talking about what comes next, I cook. Anything she wants.

Ravioli. Pecorino and pear. With fresh pasta, made in our kitchen for the first time. Perfect the technique. Make it great. Make it better than what we had in Florence. Remind ourselves of easier times, when we came home pregnant with our son.

Carrot Cake Pancakes with Fresh Pineapple & Toasted Coconut Butter Made with Kerrygold Reduced Fat Butter

thepeche — Tue, 08 Nov 2011 02:27:15 +0000

Disclosure: This post is about butter. Free butter we received. And love. And winning $1500. Maybe. Hopefully. Probably not.

Kerrygold is a company we love with big hearts. We are (un)patiently waiting for them to launch their #Butterlove t-shirt. They played a key role in all of our Pity Parties (congratulations if you have no idea what those are). They’ve invited us to a little St. Patrick’s Day get together in NYC earlier this year. The food was spectacular, and Karen walked out of there with a laundry basket full (not exactly true) of cheese and butter, including a preview of two new butters they were testing. We may have also harassed their representative who showed up at Big Summer Potluck, attempting to force him to hand over his leftover cheese from earlier in the day. He said there wasn’t any left. We maybe called him horrible names, but we said it out of love.

So when Kerrygold contacted us and said they wanted to send, for free, those two butters we tried earlier this year, we said, “Yes and yes.” When they said that we could win $1500 if we came up with a super incredible way to use their butters, we wept silent tears of butter joy. Then they said a bunch of other bloggers are getting the very same butters and the chance to win the cash. Will we win? Probably not, but we did get free butter. And free Kerrygold butter = winning.

Brussels Sprouts with Gin, Pancetta, Caraway, and Sherry Vinegar (SproutKraut) inspired by Melissa Clark’s Cook This Now

thepeche — Wed, 02 Nov 2011 01:07:17 +0000

Brussels sprouts are nature’s cargo truck for fat and salt. And now, the sprout truck is delivering gin.

Back that thing up right over here, please.

I grew up in a Brussels sprouts-free home. My dad had a deep, searing hatred for them, so my mom never, ever made a batch. I think they may have included that in some informal prenup.

So my first taste of them was roasting them a few years ago in the oven with pancetta, olive oil, salt, and pepper. Crispy, salty, and a slick coat of olive oil, Brussels sprouts seemed created to deliver everything that makes me happy in a meal.

So when a few bloggers decided to blog about recipes in Melissa Clark’s new book, Shove This in Your Face Now: OMG THIS IS GOOD FOOD, we jumped at the sprouts. Melissa’s book is also known as Cook This Now: 120 Easy and Delectable Dishes You Can’t Wait to Make. We prefer our title, but whatever.

(As an aside, if you were sitting with us at our dinner table, eyeing the wine bottle for a second glass, as I am this evening, I would tell you that Melissa Clark is magic and genius and probably poops kittens but this is an unverifiable fact by us, non-family members, but sweet baby j, we like her so much and her food is spectacular every time and I took her book to Brussels, Belgium OMG I am so not kidding I went to Brussels and now we’re making something inspired by her Brussels sprouts recipe in her second book but I took her book with me which was the only thing I took to read on the plane and it is full of magic and perfect writing and I want to be her at least her writing, if one can be like someone's writing, when I grow up, but that’s borderline creepy to say so I won’t but I do and also I need more wine.

That is an actual conversation you would have with us. We understand if you don’t ask for a dinner invitation.)

Melissa’s books, over the last year, have become our go-to recipe source for great food that never fails. Ever. So when we saw her latest book was coming out at the beginning of October, we pre-ordered on Amazon and then counted down the days.

We’ve made six recipes so far. Buy the book, as soon as you can. You need more good food in your life.

When Shauna at Gluten Free Girl and the Chef asked if we wanted to do an interpretation of Melissa’s Brussels sprouts, we jumped at the chance. We don’t make up our own recipes, so creating something new from the ingredients in Melissa’s recipe was a challenge, only for our lack of creativity. Go look at their version of Melissa's for realz Brussels Sprouts with Pancetta and Caraway.

Then it struck us...SproutKraut. Melissa, in her introduction to the recipe, talked about looking at the pile of shredded sprouts and thinking about sauerkraut. That inspired her to include caraway seeds along with pancetta. Getting closer to sauerkraut with the caraway.

We decided to take it the whole way to krautland (differnt than Birdland, thank you Manhattan Transfer), at least a quick one. And the results made Karen think about childhood Thanksgiving in Baltimore. Every year, along with turkey and oyster stuffing, her grandmother’s Thanksgiving day table included sauerkraut. Whenever Karen sees or smells sauerkraut (her grandmother’s made with a nice slice of fatback), she’s transported back to South Baltimore near Brooklyn Park, not far from her grandfather’s welding shop. This makes her happy, so I’ve tried to learn to love sauerkraut

When we saw Molly Wizenberg’s
gin-soaked sauerkraut inspired
by her own Baltimore roots, we knew we had to try it. And I finally loved sauerkraut. The results were so good, we decided to use it as an additional inspiration for Melissa’s Brussels sprouts sauerkraut. Gin, pancetta, caraway, shredded sprouts, and sherry vinegar.

We ate it out of the pan. All two pounds (we made a double batch) of gin-tinged, tangy, salty, perfect Brussels sprouts. Make this for your holiday table as the kicky punch of happy.

Melissa Clark, in addition to the perfect pie crust recipe, gives you food that is full of flavor, easy to make, with a giant punch of happy. Cook This Now. And go be happy.

Brussels Sprouts with Gin, Pancetta, Caraway, and Sherry Vinegar (SproutKraut) inspired by Melissa Clark’s Cook This Now

1 pound Brussels sprouts
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 ounces pancetta, diced small (about ½ cup)
1 cup gin
½ cup water
¼ - ½ cup sherry vinegar (depending on how much punch to your face you want)
4 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 ½ teaspoons caraway seeds
½ teaspoon kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

Remove the uglyish leaves from the sprouts. Cut off the weird core thing where it attaches to the stem. If you’ve got a food processor, insert the slicing blade and go to town. If you don’t have a food processor, go ahead and slice the sprouts by hand and hate people who have food processors because they sort of suck. Set the sprouts, and your seething anger, aside.

Heat the oil over medium-high heat in a very large pan. Like really big. Not roasting pan big, but big. Also, it should have a cover. Maybe use a cookie sheet if you don’t have a cover.

Add the pancetta and cook until a nice shade of tan/brown and then remove the crispy pieces with a slotted spoon. Place the crispies on a paper towel.

Tell everyone that you removed the pancetta fat from the pan but secretly leave it all in there because fat tastes good and people should live a little. Not like have a heart attack, but this fat tastes good and maybe don’t serve this to people with heart conditions. That’s our recommendation.

Add half the vinegar to the pan. It will let off very aggressive steam that feels uncomfortable and makes you cough. Carry on and scrape the brown bits of pancetta off the bottom of your pan until they’re all up in the vinegar/fat swirling goodness. You’re welcome, you just added a lot of flavor to your SproutKraut.

Add in the other ingredients except for the remaining vinegar. Hold on to that mother until you see how everything tastes after some cook time.

Place the cover on the pan. Set the timer for 10 minutes. Drink some gin.

When the timer goes off, remove the lid. Drink more gin and set the timer for 10 more minutes. Maybe 15. You’re looking for just a little liquid at the bottom of the pan. Sprouts will have a tiny bit of crunch to them.

Uncover and taste. Start adding in the vinegar and some salt and pepper until you’re happy. Stir in half of the crispy pancetta.

Place SproutKraut in a serving dish and top with the remaining pancetta for crunch and awesomeness.

Zombie Cupcakes (a review for CooksandBooksandRecipes.com)

thepeche — Sun, 23 Oct 2011 23:59:23 +0000

Just in time for Halloween, we've reviewed Zilly Rosen's Zombie Cupcakes cookbook over at Cooks & Books & Recipes. The verdict? Our kids take turns going to bed with the book cradled in their hands. It's a must-buy.

Go check out our review and get the recipe for these fantastic zombie hands shoving through the cupcake grave.

But before you go, check out Karen's photos below from last year's Zombie Walk at Asbury Park. Because they are awesome.

Recipe & Review: Zombie Cupcakes by Zilly Rosen at Cooks&Books&Recipes

Lavender Bitters, Plum Ginger Gin Cocktails, and Band of Bitters

thepeche — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 02:19:22 +0000

Here's the thing...

We are terribly alone right now. We are far away from our old friends, the people who helped us know who we are.

We watch documentaries on Netflix streaming. They all take place in NYC. This, maybe, isn't the best form of entertainment choice.

Our house in NJ is trying to destroy us for leaving it. Then there was that hurricane that stopped everything in the real estate market in the northeast. Acts of god are not welcome. We are doubtful and hopeful.

And with a mortgage. And rent. We are squeezed so hard it's making us squirm to catch our breath.

Two months after moving into our rental house, we finally hung two pictures on the wall. Both in the girls' room they share. One is a picture of flowers that I bought at the IKEA in Elizabeth, NJ. It matches the girls' lightshade. The other is a large swatch of fabric from the nursing cover Karen used when she breastfed the girls. For thirteen months. I put them up yesterday in their rooms, right before we loaded the kids in the minivan to go to the pumpkin patch. I stood alone in their bedroom, straightening the pictures. And I was transported back to our house up north which now sits empty. I could feel myself standing at the diaper changing station, looking at the flower picture over and over and over. With twins, so much time was spent looking at that picture. And I remembered my heart breaking a little when Karen cut the fabric of her nursing cover so she could fit it into the frame, only because I knew we were done with it forever, two little heads bobbing under that fabric, Karen tucking them close to her body when we were out in NYC, usually at Shake Shack in Madison Square Park.

To see these two picture, on walls that aren't ours, here in Atlanta. A little something snapped in my head. And instead of going to pick pumpkins, I thought we should pack up and go home. Home to NJ. Go put the pictures back where they belong. In that empty house that soon won't be ours. Hopefully. And not so hopefully.

But in spite of it all. Being poor. Being alone.

In spite of it all, we are happy.

the pioneer woman, black dress socks, boxers, and gin

thepeche — Sat, 27 Aug 2011 23:49:22 +0000

This story about me in boxers and black dress socks while drinking gin will take far too much explanation to ever make sense. But we should try.

Here's the short version:

As part of the #afundforjennie effort which we blogged about previously, bloggers are raising money to support our friend, Jennifer Perillo, after the loss of her husband. Earlier this week, a random tweet from me (Chris) led to a photo of me in boxers, black dress socks, while holding gin during the premiere of Ree Drummond's (a.k.a, The Pioneer Woman) new show on Food Network, being auctioned off on Twitter while I slept.

Never, ever go to sleep is the lesson there.

We love Ree (from experience, we can say she does extremely nice things for people without ever taking public credit for her efforts), and we love her show and her food.

So $200 for Jennifer Perillo? Yes.

Supporting Ree? Yes.

Me in boxers? For these two women? Absolutely.

The best person in this whole mess? Deb Puchalla, the editorial director of FoodNetwork.com and tons of other related sites. Deb is always encouraging me and Karen, and we like that she's a glutton for punishment for offering $200 for my sad, sad body pics. Deb will receive a pic of me and my gut (not sucking it in) while watching Ree. Gin also makes an appearance. Of course.

Here's hoping that Food Network eventually picks up our show, Cooking in Boxers and Black Dress Socks while Looking for the Gin. Catchy, isn't it? If they do pick it up, I promise to wear the lobster boxers in the premiere episode.

Love to Jennifer, Ree, and Deb. And to Karen for being a good sport and a very demanding photoshoot director. Deb gets a special, gut-centric photo for her office. Or wherever.

Below is the best shot from today. Minus the gut.

If you' like to see the start of the photo shoot, check out this tweet.

a fund for jennie (and we're back)

thepeche — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 23:01:40 +0000

Doors at Big Summer Potluck 2011
Hey. You good? Great. We are, too.

Since we were last drinking strawberry jam sidecars, a lot has happened to us, most of it really, really good. Really.

In the last two months, we decided to move to Atlanta so I (Chris) could start a new job. And I love it. Really, really love it. Love it more than any job I’ve had (sorry to all my old colleagues. I love you lots, but I really love this job and this company).

And Karen and I have had to spend a month with me traveling home on weekends to NJ, getting the house ready for sale, having an offer on the house fall through while we take out the garbage, say good bye to friends, mow the grass, pack the cooking books, make sure all the important stuffed animals for the kids made it into the minivan before we left NJ, return cable boxes, cry periodically because the stress is all too much even if it’s really good stress, sign up for a new preschool for the kids, buy a second car, rent a new house in Atlanta, go to Big Summer Potluck 2, say good bye to our son’s Tae Kwon Do teacher who is much loved (orange belt!), get our minivan towed in NYC when we went to visit Sarabeth at her amazing bakery in Chelsea Market, explain to the kids four Sundays in a row why they couldn’t get on a plane with me to go back to Atlanta, go into the city to buy a box of Doughnut Plant doughnuts one more time, make the drive down to Atlanta for a second time - this time for good, sleep on bad air mattresses, get new child locks on the doors of the rental house because our children assume all doors should be opened at all hours of the day causing us to run around screaming their names until we find them hanging out in front of the new house, hold each other a lot, and drink several glasses of wine. Several.

So that’s what we were doing.

And we are good, if somewhat stirred and shaken. We are good.

And then our friend’s husband died.

Horribly.

Suddenly.

The news came across Twitter, and I sat frozen for 10 minutes, unsure of what to do.

I have never ached for my family quite so much as I did that moment, that entire week, with me in Atlanta and them back in NJ. We had just seen Jennifer, a fantastic food blogger and special friend, a week before at Big Summer Potluck as she played most of the day with the beautiful daughter of GlutenFreeGirl and GlutenFreeChef. I shouted her name early in the day, echoing across the field where we had breakfast and raised a hand high in the air, getting a smile from her. I remember thinking how kind it was of Jennie to focus her attention on their daughter so Mom and Dad could focus on the conference/potluck. And then I realized how this wasn’t a sacrifice for Jennie at all...this is just who she is. Of course she was focused on making the day easier for Shauna and Danny. Lucy with her dad, Danny @glutenfreechef

That’s just who she is.

It’s hard not to personalize someone else’s loss, but I can't help it this time. The death of Mikey, Jennie's husband, isn’t about me and Karen, and I cannot imagine the pain and confusion Jennie and her daughters are experiencing every single day as they figure out what to do next. But I do know that I cannot imagine life without Karen, and I do not want to imagine their lives without me. Not because I’m so great, so wonderful, but because I adore my wife and my children in ways that I simply cannot explain, in ways that I feel so deeply that it shatters me to my core to think about leaving them behind. Because I do not want them to have to figure out what comes next for them without me.

And also because I find it impossible to type these words without closing the door so no one can hear me cry.

So a big part of me cannot help but think of how much Mikey would never, ever have wanted to leave his girls, all three of them, behind. That he never wanted to saddle them with a burden of him being gone. And that thinking about leaving them would absolutely shatter him to his core.

A group of beautiful friends have set up a site to help bloggers in need. The group is called Bloggers without Borders. They’re collecting donations to help Jennie with the mortgage and insurance and life without Mikey.

As a husband and a father, I would want to know that my family was surrounded by people who loved them almost as much as I did, if I couldn't be with them anymore.

So if you can spare anything at all, please donate to Jennie and her daughters. And for three of you who post below in the comments that you donated, we’ll send you a batch of Chocolate Chunk Cookies to say thanks. It doesn't matter if you donate a dollar or a thousand, if you've clicked on the button on our site or someone else's site. Just drop your name down below and you entered and good to go. These are the cookies from our first recipe post here on the site, those best chocolate chip cookies ever from Alice at Savory Sweet Life. They're good. Really good.

We just want to say thanks.

Really. Thanks.

Strawberry Sidecars with Fresh Strawberry Jam and Lime Sugar

thepeche — Mon, 20 Jun 2011 02:00:26 +0000

Last year, when we picked strawberries with the kids, it felt like we had placed ourselves on the banks of a Dantesque river leading to a green and red hell (4th Level with Plutus, the wolf-like demon, which maybe was just the ugly donkey the strawberry farm keeps in a pen).

We drove out to our local u-pick farm (local being defined as a 45-minute drive), bought a flat to carry our hoped-for bounty, passing by tables of bright red jewels that seemed to be screaming silently at me, “Abandon all hope. Don’t go into the fields! Also, you forgot your diaper bag, you fool.”

Any excursion into the world outside of our backyard fence last year could be complicated, especially one to the side of a hill, far from bathrooms and the forgotten diaper bag in the van. It’s not that any one thing went wrong, it was that life had handed us more than we thought we could carry. Literally.

Too far from snack time and not close enough to lunch, we walked down a dusty road toward the fields, two wobbly twin girls and their older brother, riding on flatbed wagons that Karen and I pulled.

Stacked Pies: Whole Lemon Pie + Blueberry Strawberry Pie from Melissa Clark and SassyRadish

thepeche — Mon, 06 Jun 2011 01:35:39 +0000

Stacking pies in Karen's family is genetic. I'm not sure if that's a dominant or recessive gene, but I'm pretty damn happy I married into it.

Karen has spent a considerable time on Ancestry.com this year. Inspired by Henry Louis Gates Jr.'s PBS show and Who Do You Think You Are (hi, Lisa Kudrow), she's mapped back her roots to England, Scotland, Germany, and France. She says she's a mutt of Europe with some haphazard Dutch, Polish, and Swiss thrown in there for kicks.

The first time Karen got on Ancestry.com, she sat in the same chair for five hours. It's like porn for the historically-inclined.

Her Puritan roots are shocking if you know her (hello, hotness). But she's more than a little proud that her relative, Giles Corey, was crushed to death in the Salem Witch Trials. Since I used to teach The Crucible to high schoolers, I find this mental jag a little hard to comprehend. The old man that got crushed to death in Arthur Miller's play was actually related to my wife? Why couldn't it be the crazy girl who started all the lies? She's way cooler. But I guess old crushed guy is better than nothing.