Casseroles, Sugar Overload and Gumbo Gone Wrong ... Saying Goodbye to the Holidays

The above photo adequately describes my Christmas dinner. Every time someone asks me how my holidays went, I can't help but laugh -- partly because I had such a good time with my family, but partly because (in some ways) the food was an utter disaster. Lest I get too long-winded before I begin, I decided to give my readers a play-by-play of the week's events:

The Eve of Christmas Eve: Getting off of work, early I decide to make a casserole instead of (gasp!) picking up a rotisserie chicken for a friend's potluck. Eat a piece of dark chocolate while whipping it together.

Christmas Eve at noon: Get off work. Avoid the kitchen and the hours of deveining/depooping shrimp, and chopping of meat and veggies for gumbo. Watch "The Good Son." Eat a piece of dark chocolate and two cookies -- and lunch. Later, I had whole milk yogurt and almonds (big mistake).

Christmas Eve, 4PM: Decide to stop procrastinating and get in the kitchen. Start peeling and deveining three pounds of shrimp as I boiled a vat of water. Call my grandmother in Seattle and hear her lecture me for 15 minutes on how much water I should include and the difference between a tablespoon and a cooking spoon. Second decision: beg my brother to help, because looking at the pile of shrimp was making me overwhelmed. He turned out to be my cooking partner in crime the whole night. Thanks, kid.

Christmas Eve, 5PM: Begin the rue.

Christmas Eve, 6PM: Stomach starts to do the conga and I have to lie down at let my cousin (a budding chef) take over. The next two and a half hours was a tango between me, the couch and the kitchen. Lie down, get up and brown sausage, lie down. Get up brown chicken, lie down.

Christmas Eve, 8PM: My aunt gets home and my cousin and I gracefully (but sneakily) abandon ship to let her take over. The last thing I did is eat a bowl of cereal because I was starving and nauseated at the same time (which began the conga all over again) and wash the crab legs.

WARNING at 9PM!!
My aunt and I both washed and smelled the crab legs, which smelled suspiciously fishy to my uber-sensitive nose and turning stomach. However, after a good wash they smelled and looked fine. Second big mistake of the night.

Christmas Eve, 10:30PM: Gumbo was finally finished and tasted good but not quite the flavor I was shooting for. (I ate only a spoonful because my stomach was still partying on its own).

Christmas DAY, noon:
All morning (during a lovely session of watching "The Incredible Hulk") I was fantasizing about eating a good warm bowl of gumbo. My mom takes out the pot from the refridgerator in the garage and was immediately horrified when I overheard my aunt say that the gumbo could have gone bad. After a smell and a good look at it (never trust gumbo that bubbles on its own and smells like a body part that I won't say in print) -- the verdict was in. The $200 plus gumbo had spoiled. We believe the king crab legs did the pot in.

My mom cried.

I ate a cookie, and tried to pull it together.

After we got over the disappointment, my mom made homemade waffles, my cousin started scouring the Web for her macaroni recipe and tried to explain to my stepdad what broccolini is.

All in all, Christmas was celebrated with roasted chicken, macaroni and cheese and roasted veggies.

So now I have a vendetta to settle with this gumbo. After all, my grandmother is from New Orleans and is an expert gumbo cook, so why can't I??? Ironically, when I was at the grocery store two days later hunting for cranberries to make a tea bread, a butcher was trying to coax me into buying ... king crab. I promptly told him "no thank you."

And was quite huffy in explaining why.

I Can Eat Again ... The Election is Over

Kudos to the Amateur Gourmet for reminding me of one of the greatest musical and patriotic moments of our time -- Whitney Houston singing the "Star-Spangled Banner" at the Super Bowl. Her passionate rendition of the classic stirs a thrill in my veins like no other song has -- a reminder that we can be proud to be Americans on November 5. While this has nothing to do with food, Barack's win signifies not only the returning of my appetite, but also the start of a new beginning. Fifty years ago, I would not be able to eat in the same restaurants as whites, drink their water or stay in their posh hotels. I wouldn't have been able to enter the same restaurants or go to the same gyms. I wouldn't be able to work at the same corporations. The Chef Jeff Project (my new favorite addiction) wouldn't be possible. And now a black man is the President. Despite my elation (and sleepless night) I know that the battle isn't over.

But this is a really good start.

What I Hate about Election Day

The top five reasons I can't wait for it to be over.

I know, I know. As this is a food blog, I am supposed to write about food, yes? However, this political election has left me so frazzled that food is the last thing on my mind. Thus, I bring to you the top 5 things I hate about Election Day:

1. Celebratory libations consist of alcohol, alcohol and more alcohol -- at work and on the blogs. Can we say sparkling cider? I hope to get home before the election is called so that I can avoid drunken idiots on Los Angeles' already crowded roads.

2.I got up so early to vote that I didn't have time for breakfast.

3. I am so nervous that nothing seems tasty. Doesn't a Naked Juice count as a full meal?

4. Food creativity? Please. Tonight I will be so glued to CNN that dinner will most likely consist of Ezekiel bread spread with peanut butter.

5. Businesses like Ben and Jerry's and Krispy Kreme are giving out tons of free stuff all over the country. And I am soooo tempted.

UPDATE 9:30 p.m.: Barack Obama took the presidency!!! I can now have my glass of wine in peace.

See Also:

• My Cookies Are Voting Blue
• From My Plate to Yours: Election '08 Edition

Pan Seared Salmon -- With a Little Extra

I am beginning to love children again. I must admit that I didn't always -- the whining, the tantrums, the fatigue, the dirt, the poop, the stretch marks and extra weight -- not to mention the fact that the women around me discuss the disasters and crazy ordeals of parenting more than the joys, definitely haven't made me want to become a mama.

Maybe my sudden baby "oots" could be the batch of hormones that is coursing through my veins -- or quite possibly, the man who kissed my knee cap earlier this week totally won me over like no one else could have. As for the for hormones, who knows? But as for the man, his name is Jett -- and he was going to be my food critic for the week.

Jett is super handsome -- he has creamy cafe au lait skin, dark eyes, spiky hair, a great laugh and a deep affinity for parmesan cheese. He literally jumps up and down when I walk through the door. But before people think I'm getting too serious, I have one more description to add: He's two. And he WAS going to be my food critic -- until I realized that the salmon fillets I bought for the pan seared salmon had bones. I figured his parents wouldn't appreciate it if I threatened his life with my dinner.

As for the salmon, the lemon juice-based marinade was a light but flavorful seasoning for the fish. Combined with an arugula salad with bell peppers, grape tomatoes, bell pepper and cucumber, I was ready to eat. However, (like always) my manic tasting during the cooking process left me without an appetite.

As for Jett, he was more than happy to eat a less life-threatening meal (sausages with pasta), play Wii and try on his Halloween turtle costume (again) and parade it for all of us to see.

Life is so much simpler when you're two.

Check out my junior gourmet (and me):



Pan Seared Salmon
(Adapted from Epicurious.com)
2 center-cut salmon fillets (6 oz. each)
1 1/2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 1/2 Tbsp olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

For the salad:
3 cups baby arugula leaves
2/3 cup grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
1/4 cup thinly slivered red onion
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp red-wine vinegar
A Pirouette addition: 1/2 cucumber, 1/2 medium-sized red bell pepper.

Directions:
1. Place the salmon fillets in a shallow bowl. Toss well with lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. Let rest for 15 minutes.

2. Cook the salmon, skinside down in a nonstick skillet over medium-high heat for 2 to 3 minutes, shaking the pan and carefully lifting the salmon with a spatula to loosen it from the pan.

3. Reduce the heat to medium. Cover the pan and cook until the salmon is cooked through, 3 to 4 minutes more. The skin should be crisp and the flesh medium rare. (I like to make sure my salmon is VERY well done, so I cooked mine for close to 15 minutes total).

4. Meanwhile, combine the arugula, tomatoes and onion in a bowl. Just before serving, season with salt and pepper and drizzle with oil and vinegar. Toss well.

See Also:

• Grechka ... Say It Again?

From My Plate to Yours

The best of this week's food blogs.

Smitten Kitchen gets the pretty picture award (again, see above): I don't know what this woman does to give me the gasp every time I go on her site, but she certainly knows how to give me some food envy. Her peanut butter bars, which she says are definitely not good for you, made me seriously want to stretch my calorie intake.

The slow cooker gets a makeover: I confess that I've had the stereotype that slow cookers aren't real cooks. What creativity is there in throwing a bunch of stuff in a pot and coming home to have it done already? But this post over at Epicurious could convince me otherwise.

I heart garlic: Don't ask why I've begun to speak in text message language, but I truly heart garlic. The Complete Book of Garlic made me happy that my hands routinely stink from chopping the savory herb.

A Martha Moment: Yes, I have had many days where the seemingly perfect, gorgeous idea lands on my brain -- though the execution doesn't always have the same flair. Chez Pim's Martha Moment involved a roast pig, butcher paper and some outdoor dining. Trust me, it looked far more elegant than it sounds.

And, a little eye candy for Halloween:



He's definitely not a meal, but this baby is deliciously beautiful. No, he's not mine, but if I were trying to pretend to be a "baby mama," my little cousin would be my first choice.

Come back next week for another "From My Plate to Yours."

See Also:

• My Cookies Are Voting Blue
• Recession Style Stir Fry
• Just a Little Tequila

Bonsoir, La Dijonaise

La Dijonaise is a little cafe and boulangerie (aka bakery shop) tucked in the art district of Culver City, CA, an area that pulsates with "I could get discovered tonight" energy. Flanked with a sports bar with lines out the door and an Asian fusion restaurant, this cafe definitely doesn't sport itself as a mecca of haute cuisine, especially as their portion sizes were closer to Texan than Parisian. However, with a Parisian waiter names Nicolas, I was more than happy to be mesmerized by the way he sounded when he asked for my order and practice my shoddy French vocabulary.

As a friend and I sat and gabbed about careers, men and babies, we sipped still water and enjoyed the warm night air. Nicolas (my new bff) brought out crab cakes as a starter. Crab cakes I have usually enjoyed are usually dense and moist in consistency. These, which I devoured quickly, were surprisingly closer to cornbread in texture and lighter on the fish. Followed by salmon with dill sauce -- complete with a bed of long green beans and wild rice -- this little cafe won me over before we even hit dessert.



In between chomping and refusing to let my friend touch his food before I took pics, I couldn't help but grow thoughtful as recent events have brought some major life decisions to the forefront. Despite what many of my friends may think, I have a lot more cowardly lion in me than I would like to admit. Hence, I'm afraid, constantly battling between what's comfortable and familiar or deciding to leap into an unfamiliar (and potentially frightening situation). As I love being in control, rolling with change is not something that comes naturally to me.

Sometimes, the only adventures I like to take are edible. But anyone can change, right?





Dessert: Lest I get too deep, I hacked into the Napoleon and lemon tart with vigor, tossing aside my silent vow that I will only eat sweets on Saturday.


I let yesterday be Saturday.

See Also:

• Remembering Paris