big mess in my kitchen

Things I have accomplished since dinner:

• Cleared the table
• ate some Halloween candy from my parents (my mom put a note in the bag that says "Better your home than ours," but I see there are only a few surviving Hershey's Special Dark chocolate bars and I don't think the kids took them - I'm on to your tricks, lady!)
• engaged in a fun Facebook message session
• trolled YouTube for a clip from the movie, "Anastasia," then posted said clip on Facebook (go, social media!)
• pestered Mister

Things I haven't accomplished since dinner: cleaning up.  In fact, my kitchen is such a phenomenal mess right now that I think I might actually bake cookies or cupcakes or something, just to see if I actually can dirty every dish in the house.

It's probably not as bad as I think, but compared to the super-simple clean-up from last night's dinner, a stove and counter and sink covered in dishes is a little daunting.  This is what happens when I make blender sauces.  More accurately, this is what happens when I make a blended sauce that could totally fit in my smaller food processor attachment to my immersion blender, so I start piling everything in there only to remember that I have to blend for 5 minutes and realizing that I have no desire to push the button that makes the blades spin for 5 minutes.  So, having dirtied the little food processor, I dump everything into the grown-up food processor and proceed with the excessive blending.  Which makes a huge mess.

Meanwhile, I'm chopping and roasting cauliflower while rinsing the chickpeas (and contemplating the effort required to pinch them out of their little skins) and cooking the bulgur, then scraping the sides of the food processor (with yet another spatula) and trying not to drip the sauce that collected on the lid onto the counter (and failing).  Nevertheless, it all came together beautifully for our Mediterranean Bowls from Appetite for Reduction.

By way of a short aside, last week I did a favor for a colleague who then did her best to show her appreciation by gushing all over me and then buying me Starbucks.  She asked what I wanted when she was going out to get it and I told her, "A hazelnut americano would make my heart sing," which she thought was very funny.  I tell you this because roasted cauliflower makes Mister's heart sing.

I cut it into small florets, then doused it with olive oil and tossed it with some kosher salt and the Mediterranean herb blend I picked up in California:

No joke, the cauliflower had been roasting about 15 minutes and I was getting ready to add the chickpeas while gathering all of the ingredients for Isa's Caesar Chavez dressing, also from Appetite for Reduction, when Mister followed his nose into the kitchen and asked what he smelled.  I told him it was roasted cauliflower (even though it was still in the act of roasting) and he asked when he could eat it and if now would be a good time.  I explained he would have to wait 5-10 more minutes and after one more try, he went back to his computer to wait like a good boy.

After all my kitchen gymnastics, here was the result: Caesar Chavez dressing, clearly meant to replace fattening, anchovyful Caesar dressing.  While I don't think you could mistake this for "the real thing," it has a delightful tang and very strong flavor, most likely attributed to the shallots that haunt my breath even now.  In fact, I'm going to blame my inexcusably excessive candy consumption on that - I'm just trying to get rid of the taste and my breath mints are allllll the way over there in my purse.

The finished product went over much better than the last time Mister had something specifically titled Bowl, and merely mentioning "that outdoor restaurant" threw Mister into a memorymare and he proceeded to once again voice his complete displeasure with the Gyro Bowl he got.  I think he's being a little over-dramatic, but then again, I loved my Hollywood Bowl.

But again, how could I not?  I'm a rockstar ;)

When I'm not being a rockstar, though, I'm the kitchen help... better get on that pile of mess...

a good excuse to be a bad influence

Wind me up and watch me go
Where she stops, nobody knows
It's a good excuse to be a bad influence on you (and you and you and you and you)
(click here for the soundtrack to this post) 

I don't like to drop names (so I won't), but I know a lot of people in the music biz...enough people that other people are sometimes impressed with me, which doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but makes me feel like the rockstar I was destined to be.  After all, there are at least two CDs sold in music stores across the country where you can hear my voice, so I can feel a little special, can't I?

Regardless, because of these people, I readily recognize that celebrities (generally) are just like us normal folk, they're just more visible.  I'll grant you, not everyone can afford the things they have or the places they go, and no one cares what Mister and I order from the local Chinese place, but They have the same feelings, the same needs, the same desires, for the most part as you and me.  Because of all that, I rarely hold a celebrity in high enough esteem to emulate their behavior/dress/etc.  I have one weakness:  P!nk.

I would like to believe that I would be cool if I met her, that I wouldn't be starstruck or stupid and I would be able to have an intelligent conversation with her.  Heck, she's even a local girl - raised in the Philadelphia 'burbs.  We share a common ethnic heritage and we both have great cheek bones (toot toot).  So, perhaps it was more out of respect for her than a moment of celebrity worship that I took her advice on wine.

In an interview you can view on her website, P!nk (aka Alecia Moore) describes her favorite wines.  I had heard of Super-Tuscans before and when I googled them I realized why in the same answer she made the comment that she "a very expensive date."  Most Super-Tuscans retail for $175 and up, averaging in the mid $200s for one bottle.  To think I've spent a great deal of my life enthralled by the idea of a $100something bottle of Dom Perignon is shameful in comparison.

I figured I may as well give it a try, since I had been craving a good, new red anyway.  Summertime (or warm weather) usually brings out the part of me that craves a crisp, clean Riesling, or a Pinot Grigio every few years.  I have been drinking almost exclusively Riesling since April, but I prefer reds, so I was happy to give Super-Tuscans a go.

Fortunately for my non-rockstar wallet, I stumbled upon an article on epicurious.com, leading me to more affordable luxuries than those commonly enjoyed by P!nk.  Although I realize that $80 is a bargain on a wine that usually costs upwards of $250, it just isn't something I'm willing to spend when I'm the only one drinking it, so I went with the "most affordable,"  Castello Banfi Centine Toscana (pronounced chen-TEE- nay).

I opened it tonight, to accompany the delightful Italian-inspired dinner Mister chose (more in a minute) and it was just as spectacular as I'd hoped.  We're on the third glass now, so pardon me if I start to lose the thread, I just don't want to waste it and I can tell it's prone to spoil quickly.  How, you ask?  From the one prior experience I had with a Super-Tuscan, I can tell you that they are relatively dry and bold in flavor, and as a result, they do what I call "vinegarizing" fairly quickly after being opened.  Something I noticed about this particular wine is how disparate the first taste is from the one that lingers on your tongue after you swallow.  I could use the technical terms, but sometimes that takes all the fun out of it.  When you pull the wine into your mouth, it is obviously colored with dark berries (by the way, this wine is so dark as to be opaque in the glass) and a hint of subtle spice, not unlike a Pinotage.  However, there is a slight sting at the back of your throat as you swallow and you're left with a slightly vinegary taste, along with some more savory notes.  It was under $20, so please take my word for it and do your best to find this and serve it with your next Italian dinner.

Good segue?

Mister chose from my fridge-posted menu tonight.  I've been trying to involve him more in the process, so I just show him the menu, tell him what we've already eaten (he's not one to remember fancy names), and request his input in selecting dinner.  He chose Orecchiette with Broccoli, Chickpeas, and Tomatoes from Vegan Italiano, not surprisingly.  I'm pretty sure Mister would be perfectly happy if I made 50% (or more) of our dinners Italian-influenced.  After all, he bought that cookbook for me for my birthday a few years ago.  Aside from the cheeses, Italian cooking is very amenable to the vegan lifestyle, so I'm okay with that too, but honestly, cooking pasta annoys me.  It requires the sink to be empty so I can strain the pasta, and frequently, that means I need to either do the dishes before dinner or just have half-nasty dishes on my counter a foot away from where I'm preparing dinner.

Anyway, dinner was wonderful - despite the canned tomatoes and canned chickpeas, there was something about it that just tasted fresh.  The broccoli is finally done being gross, even if it is still a little small.  There is a part of me that wants to make this again tomorrow, but with fresh tomatoes and basil and see what a difference that makes.  I am so pleased with this dinner.  I served it with Sicilian-spiced olives, Kalamatas, and Parmesan for Mister, Centine for me.