Feed the Tree
December 6th, 2006
Lately, I’ve had this primal urge to cook again, despite alarming evidence telling me that I shouldn’t. Honestly, I just don’t want to be one of those parents who has to go out to eat all the time, and, perhaps more practically, I think of those long days of dealing with an infant/newborn/toddler where going out to eat just isn’t an option because of the wiggling or screaming or whatever. And I’d like to eat then, thanks. (Do you see how Jimmy can totally have asthma here? Do you see the thinking? Surely you must. Here’s the panicked logic: I must learn to cook gourmet meals, because when I have a baby, I will never be allowed to leave the house, ever, because Jimmy has asthma, which makes him scream a lot when we leave the house, which means that if I don’t learn to cook, WE WILL STARVE. As per usual, I am assuming that I will be a single mother, also living a cardboard box that may or may not have a stove.)
Anyway, having not sufficiently learned my lesson before, what with the flaming pot roast, chicken that tastes like excrement, melting electronics, etc., I thought I’d try one of my mom’s recipes tonight – Szechwan chicken, a modified Joyce Chen recipe – and I’m a little proud to say that it didn’t turn out that bad. Well, my husband hated it, but he fully admitted that it had more to do with the fact that the recipe included ginger and sesame oil, both of which he claims to hate, even though we’ve eaten both extensively without his knowledge, but when he knows they’re there, OH MY GOD, the tragedy and woe. He’s like a child like that. If he knows it’s in there, he hates it. If it’s sneakily added, like spinach in spaghetti sauce? He’s blissfully clueless, and he chows down without a care in the world.
Sadly, our culinary tastes are night and, well, day I guess, if I might say something so completely trite, which means that if I want to cook something, it must be simple and in my opinion, flavorless. Ask him, and he’ll tell you he prefers “tasteful, unembellished meals,” whereas I like them “busy and gaudy.” You know, with beads and sequins. Sigh.
(Incidentally, Hubs doesn’t really love his name being used here, so uh, should we call him Abe? Bob? Weehawken? Work with me.)
The recipe required that I fry some hot dried peppers in oil first, which went fine, for the most part, and I managed to avoid a grease fire from smoking oil. What I did not avoid, however, was one of the hot peppers exploding, which had a very interesting effect, and by “interesting,” I mean, I basically pepper sprayed the entire downstairs. The explosion was like a shot of fire to the lungs, and there was no escape anywhere, God, it was like a fog of pepper. I had to go outside to breathe, thinking it was a one-time shot and would be clear in an instant, but in fact, no, I was wrong. It was everywhere. I started coughing. The cat started coughing. The dog started gagging.
I finished the meal from behind the collar of my shirt, my nose running all over the place, and when Abe/Bob/Whoever came downstairs, it was much of the same. He started gagging and coughing and, well, we miserably coughed our way through dinner and now can’t go downstairs, because it hurts down there, because – oh yes – there is still a cloud of pepper, and I’m quite certain my lungs are bleeding. On the upside, I have virtually zero chest congestion anymore, having horked it all up in a fit of pepper-induced mucal expulsion. But really, it tasted fine! Sort of. I mean, good enough that I’m having it for lunch tomorrow, too, although admittedly, I’m not a picky eater.
By the way, one recent success was TwoBusy’s broccoli ale soup-type thing, and dude, it’s fantastic, and I highly recommend it. Bear in mind, however, that apparently I like my meals gaudy and embellished with lace, rhinestones and maybe wearing garter belts. (Personal note to Teeb: I did not make and freeze any, as I fell ill, and thus, have no update on its freezability. Maybe this weekend.)
This cooking venture also means I am back in the habit of reading cookbooks in bed, which is completely illogical, but also makes me immeasurably happy, even if it means I’m going to bed starving and dreaming of cupcakes. Which, speaking of cupcakes, if I don’t have one soon, it’s possible I might die. To prevent certain death by cupcake deprivation, I’m making a batch this weekend from a recipe I found in (cringe) a People Magazine special report out of a Desperate Housewives cookbook. And quite honestly, the only reason I’m attempting such a daring act vs. making them from a bloody BOX, is that they are called fudge cupcakes (mmmm….FUDGE) and include a recipe for frosting that is made solely with…wait for it…heavy cream and caramel. And uh, that’s it. HEAVY CREAM AND CARAMEL. Come over, I’ll serve you cupcakes. That is, assuming that I don’t ruin them, which is highly probable. But still. Cream. Caramel. CREAM. Honestly, cream is by far my favorite food item in the universe. I like bisques, butters, tea and coffee with cream, whipped cream, whipped cream frosting, mashed potatoes with cream, ice cream, creamed corn, cream with a spoon, cream in a milkshake, I will take cream however I can get it. Just don’t tell me it’s thick, because it will be completely ruined.
In other culinary news, am I the only one who is upset by the mere sight of the Wendy’s Jalapeno Cheddar Double Melt thing? Two beef patties, jalapeno jack cheese, a layer of jalapenos and Cheez Whiz between them. Oh oh, and bacon. Of course bacon. I just don’t think that a digestive system can tolerate that level of…stimulation. I honestly don’t, and I have a sinking feeling that ERs across the country are handing out Kaopectate like candy, because that is just too unnaturally…stimulating…for normal people.
Also! Also! A cautionary tale, lest you be as dumb as I am. A while back, Leah and Simon posted about honey martinis, which sound like heaven to me, given that I love honey and-martinis and what better way to combine two great loves? Her recipe, however, calls for some obscure honey mead liqueur-type thing that can, it seems, be obtained only in a specific region of Germany. Being very far from Germany and also, creative, I thought that maybe I could make my own honey martini using diluted honey and vodka. I am here to tell you that you cannot, for honey does not chill well, and in fact, globs all over the place and actually gets quite gross and snot-like, leaving you with nothing more than snotty, chunky vodka. And though that seems like a big, fat obnoxious NO SHIT, it seems that my job in life is to try the obviously impossible and prove that indeed, it is obviously impossible. And also, perhaps I make people feel better by being just that dumb. I help in any way I can.
And finally, today in a professional context, I referred to myself as a “frequent eater-outer,” as in, I go out to eat a lot. It was only later, as in five minutes ago, that I realized how completely inappropriate and foul that statement actually is, and quite honestly, I’d like to die. Eater outer. God.
*Belly.
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
21 Comments Add your own
1. Christine | December 6th, 2006 at 9:17 pm
Szechuan chicken sounds lovely, minus the exploded pepper. Maybe if you chopped them up before hand?
Also, please do call the hubs Weehawken if only for my amusement.
Does he object to A., as well? For that would be my first actual, normal choice. But you know, tomato, tomahto. Normal, schnormal and I still think Weehawken is fantastic.
And for cupcakes, you should email Oy Vey (over at oyveysblog.blogspot.com) for she has a bakery and I can vouch for her OHMYGOD amazing cupcakes and I betcha she would share a recipe. (And my boyfriend drools over the cheezwiz burger jalapeno sandwich of whatever fastfood establishment it may be, for we are both fatties.)
2. Yez | December 6th, 2006 at 9:19 pm
“I started coughing. The cat started coughing. The dog started gagging.” I’m laughing so hard I’m crying. (Sorry :> )
Domestic honey-dilution no-op noted. Have I told you what happens when you put melon balls in spiked punch?
3. Blythe | December 7th, 2006 at 12:28 am
1. I vote for Abe
2. If you can stand to look at Rachael Ray on the cover, her recipes are quick and interesting and taste good and don’t require a bunch of ingredients that will cause you permanent ocular damage. Also, I swear by That Yellow Book (How to Cook Everything).
3. Perhaps you should call Joyce Chen and the two of you could market her chicken as a tasty decongestant.
4. Can you mail me one of those cupcakes, please?
4. Allison | December 7th, 2006 at 6:59 am
“Being very far from Germany and also, creative” was my favorite line in this post. This whole post was hilarious.
Heavy cream and caramel. Holy crap.
Maggie has to use a nebulizer now and let me tell you, that is not going to keep us from being frequent eater outers!
5. Lawyerish | December 7th, 2006 at 7:25 am
There’s too much here to know where to start.
I have a friend who calls all males in the world Bob, because he’s horrible with names and it’s just so fitting for virtually every guy. In fact, perhaps we should all refer to our husbands as Bob — standardized Internet anonymity for everyone!
Frequent eater-outer. Hee.
6. TwoBusy | December 7th, 2006 at 7:29 am
If I might suggest a pseudonym for yr man: Adonymous.
7. Sadie | December 7th, 2006 at 7:39 am
Sadly, I knew exactly what you were talking about when you said your dog was gagging – the same thing befell my dog when I used the “self-clean” function on my oven for the first time, and filled our house with a toxic, heated mushroom cloud of oven solvent. And also the time I used oil-based primer in my bathroom without proper ventilation. (the primer was called “KILZ,” I should have known.) My poor dog, an unwitting huffer.
Congrats on your culinary triumph over chicken szechuan – even if the peppers won the first battle, it sounds like you won the war.
Might I suggest, that since you are admittedly a ccoking novice, that you do not start out with such ambitious, and danger-fraught ingredients as capsaicin bombs? Perhaps you would be safer with garlic.
8. guinness girl | December 7th, 2006 at 8:48 am
I totally should have kept a post-it note of everything I wanted to comment on here. You are cracking me up, Jonna. Please tell me that you have not exaggerated at all in your exploding pepper story, because that would just crush me. Also, send cupcakes. And I concur – that jalapeno bacon cheez whiz burger whatever looks positively disgusting.
9. jonniker | December 7th, 2006 at 8:57 am
GG: No, it really happens, and I’m told, it’s not that uncommon, although I didn’t have a fan running, which exacerbated the situation. My mother claims she’s done it as well, and something about the hot pepper and the steam and, well…it didn’t work.
Christine: I didn’t chop it up because I thought that it would be way too potent. It’s one of those dried Szechwan peppers with the stem on, not a fresh pepper, and if I chopped it, I’m pretty sure the same thing would have happened, as it would just be everywhere. I don’t think it’s the exploding pepper so much as the…potency of the pepper innards.
10. Jamie | December 7th, 2006 at 9:18 am
I have also been on this weird cooking/baking kick. No idea where it came from, but I’m riding the wave for all it’s worth! So far, I’ve only massacred one thing.
Let’s call Hubs “Capital A.” In my next life, when I come back as a rapper from the Dirty South, I plan on calling myself “Capital J.”
You know, or Weehawken.
11. Heather B. | December 7th, 2006 at 9:41 am
Definitely Weehawken. It has a nice ring to it, no?
I’m also deeply disturbed by the Wendy’s meal and also the BK stacker where you can get like 4 patties slathered in mayo and possibly cheese with some bacon on the side covered in onion rings. It’s all making me quite ill really.
12. Suebob | December 7th, 2006 at 10:02 am
I have a disease where I am compelled to try the least-likely sounding recipe in the cookbook. If it sounds weird, I have to make it.
Thus my experience with orange-leek soup. Who the hell would think THAT would be a good idea? Not even me, really, because I made it thinking “Orange-leed? That can’t be right!”
The resulting soup tasted exactly of bile. Yes, that burning horrible, kill-me-now flavor in the back of your throat you get when you…well…you know.
One teaspoon and I threw the rest down the drain. No need to expose anyone else to the horror.
Good luck. The pepper-spray incident sounds unforgettable, to say the least.
13. Maya | December 7th, 2006 at 1:53 pm
I’m right there with ya, sister – What if Jimmy had been there, gagging and choking with the pets? What IF? This is precisely why we go to Trader Joe’s so often – that and the fact that we both like our food with, erm, sequins and garter belts and stuff, and I am not a very good embellisher. Jalapeno thingy makes my stomach turn. Still think you should do a Cafe Press T shirt or button, etc with the Jimmy phrase on it. I’d totally buy one.
PS. Honey martinis? Really?
14. Melissa | December 7th, 2006 at 2:01 pm
The Wendy’s commercial has a line that really gets me: jalepeno peppers exploding in a river of molten cheese.
Sounds pretty hot, doesn’t it?
15. Jhianna | December 7th, 2006 at 4:15 pm
I vote for either Weehawken or He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Or Mr J. Or Hubs. Just go ahead and take my vote away from now.
Cream and caramel? Sign me up. No seriously – mail me one of those puppies or post the recipe or something. It must be mine!
And yeah – that Wendy’s burger just looks like a thing of pain and misery.
And I hear ya guinness girl, I had a ton of comments this morning when I read it and opened the comment window. Then they insisted I actually work and now I can’t remember any of it.
You rock! You make me laugh! (simple and to the point, best I can do)
16. Leigh | December 7th, 2006 at 5:50 pm
I have to chime in as a formerly VERY asthmatic kid. (Routine trips to the emrgency room because I was BLUE, they gave me adrenalin which made me throw up (but I could breathe again, praise God) and my mom would be fainting from the stress. My poor father.)
Outside is better than in for asthmatic kids as long as you are not in a super smoggy area.
People in the throws of an asthma attack do NOT scream. All energy focused on breath.
And the worst: my mom had to get rid of all of her pets because they gave me asthma. She hasn’t really liked me since then (I was two).
So don’t be too drastic! There is always food that can be delivered and Trader Joes for prepared meals that are tasty and also healthy. My poor kid lived on that stuff for several years.
17. Leah | December 11th, 2006 at 4:19 pm
Honey, honey, honey. Send me your address and I’ll mail you some honey liquor. No, I’m not kidding.
18. Jonniker. » When It&hellip | July 31st, 2007 at 7:42 pm
[...] Anyway, I made a great meal tonight — chicken with roasted sweet potatoes and onions, asparagus and garlic green beans — and while the whole thing tasted delightful, the dry rub I made had a fair amount of cayenne pepper in it, and what I hadn’t counted on was while the chicken cooked, the pepper was diffused throughout the house, which had the effect of — ha! HA! — being pepper sprayed or, I don’t know, like a giant cloud of mace whipped through the kitchen, and worse, it’s not the first time I’ve done this. [...]
19. Free Coffee Samples&hellip | September 20th, 2007 at 6:22 am
Free Coffee Samples
I couldn’t understand some parts of this article, but it sounds interesting
20. Dog Care Tips&hellip | November 7th, 2007 at 5:59 pm
Dog Care Tips
I couldn’t understand some parts of this article, but it sounds interesting
21. Anna | Free Samples | March 13th, 2010 at 2:53 am
Hmm sounds really interesting to me.. Thanks!
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