Seersucker Thursdays

It's summertime and it's a Thursday, which can only mean one thing: Seersucker Thursdays are in effect on Capital Hill! During the Summer session, the U.S. Senate shows up on Thursdays in puckered pastel suits to beat the heat, a tradition which started in the late 1990s. I guess they couldn't find a big enough veranda to sit out on and drink sweet tea, which is another Southern summer survival tactic.

Seersucker is woven with a peculiar combination of tight and slack threads of thin cotton originating from 18th century India. The strange word itself is a mangling of Hindi's "shir shakkar," meaning "milk and sugar," a perfect description of the fabric's smooth and rippled textures. To make the fabric, two kinds of looms are involved; one weaving tightly and one loosely. That shifting creates tiny ridges of bunched threads, so that the fabric is almost held away from the skin. Heat dissipates, sweat evaporates, air circulates, and, one would hope, an idea may penetrate.

Like how Thursdays are also the the perfect day to drink watermelon margaritas, my new summer adult beverage obsession.

The first batch I made was so delicious I felt compelled to go door to door around my neighborhood and hand out samples. It's not everyday someone knocks on your door and hands you lovely libation. I even begged my friend Karen to drive to my house in rush-hour traffic to have one. Even my cat loved it!

I'd like to point out that today is a Thursday, so I'd highly recommend swinging by a fruit stand or market and picking up a watermelon to create this most refreshing cocktail. Donning seersucker is entirely up to you, but this drink would really complete the outfit and I'm sure would pump up the cooling effect.

Cheers, to your first of many watermelon margaritas! Because, trust me, you can't have just one of these beauties.

Watermelon Margarita (from Martha Stewart)

In a small saucepan, bring 1/2 cup sugar and 1/2 cup water, along with 3 wide strips of orange zest, to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and cook until sugar dissolves, 3 minutes. Let cool.

In a blender, puree 2 cups cubed watermelon until smooth. Strain through a sieve, pressing solids, into a pitcher or quart-sized mason jar. You should have approximately 1 cup of juice. Add the sugar syrup, 1/4 cup lime juice (from about 3 limes), and 3/4 cups white or silver tequila. I got closer to 1 1/2 - 1 3/4 cup juice from my watermelon, so you may have to add a bit more lime juice and tequila to even it out. And taste-test it several times (what a burden).

Fill salt-rimmed glasses with ice, then pour margarita mixture over top. Garnish with a lime wedge and keep the pitcher nearby. You'll definitely be wanting a refill! Yields: 4 servings, so might as well make a double!

Meat-Free Mondays

Mondays are, generally speaking, my least favorite day of the week. It's also the day of the week when I try to eat meat-free — but that isn't why it's my least favorite day. It's the reality check that comes crashing down on you when the alarm goes off and you realize play time is over.

I certainly grew up in a very meat-oriented food culture. I never even knew a vegetarian until I went away to college. I guess if you were a Southerner and a vegetarian, you ate a lot of grits and just the "three" of a "meat and three" (which is a restaurant staple offering the choice of a meat and three kinds of vegetables). In fact, I still chuckle thinking of a wedding I went to in Tallahassee where the bride was a vegetarian. I was behind some good ol' Southern boys in the buffet line and overheard one of them say, "What's this here pole-enta with mushrooms? Where's the meat?!"

Paul McCartney and friends launched Meat Free Monday in the UK in 2006 after a United Nation's report was issued stating that the livestock industry as a whole was responsible for more greenhouse gas emissions than the whole of the transport section put together. His mission was simply to encourage people eat less meat. Eating more vegetables is not only great for your health but is also good for the planet.

I think many people look for little ways to "do their part" for the environment. Some recycle, some drive hybrids, some use compact fluorescent light bulbs. Personally, taking one day in my week to not eat meat is rewarding and a fun challenge. I started with just a meat-free dinner, as that seemed like all I could commit to, but now I really try my best to eat "3-squares" meat free. There are exceptions, like last Monday when I was hungover after the July 4th festivities and ate a big, greasy cheeseburger. But you'll find there really are a lot of alternatives that are "quiet" vegetarian dishes which are so tasty. You don't have to eat tofu. Who doesn't love Italian food, for instance? Lots of vegetarian options there, which are especially delectable during the summer months when the access to fresh, amazing produce is plentiful. Thai, Indian, Chinese food . . . yum! And all with lots of meat-free options. I'm not a purist, so will also eat sustainable seafood.

And while it may take a little mindfulness initially, making just one day a week a meat-free day really is a little thing that can make a big difference. I hope this easy and so, so delicious recipe for an eggplant pasta I made last Monday will inspire you to at least give it a go.

I know what you're thinking. In of itself, the words "eggplant pasta" my not sound very inspiring. I've often been served eggplant that was overcooked and therefore had a weird, mealy texture that wasn't appealing. Maybe you too had the same experience. However with this dish, the Japanese eggplants hold together well and don't get all seedy and mushy. Plus, the marjoram, lemon zest and chiles come together to create this stunning brightness that contrasts with the creamy decadence of the burrata. You certainly won't feel like you're missing anything — except maybe a larger stomach!

Orecchiette with Marinated Eggplant, Burrata and Chiles

from Food and Wine and Best New Chef 2010 Missy Robbins of NYC's A Voce

Ingredients

4 Asian eggplants (1 1/2 lbs total), halved lengthwise

1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for brushing

Kosher salt

1/3 cup red wine vinegar

2 large garlic cloves, very thinly shaved

3 marjoram sprigs, plus 1 Tbsp marjoram leaves

1/2 tsp crushed red pepper

3/4 lbs orecchiette

1/3 cup freshly grated pecorino

1 Tbsp chopped parsley

1/2 lb burrata cheese, halved, creamy filling scooped out (you can substitute fresh mozarella or even fresh ricotta if fresh burrata is not available)

Coarsely grated zest of 1 lemon

2 oil-packed red chilies, seeded and cut into thin strips (you can substitute pickled cherry peppers)

Directions

Light a grill or preheat a grill pan. Brush the cut side of the halved eggplants with olive oil and season with salt. Grill the eggplants cut side down over moderate heat until lightly charred, about 4 minutes. Turn and continue grilling until just browned and cooked through, about 2 minutes longer. Let cool. Dice the eggplants and transfer to a bowl. Pour the vinegar over the eggplant and toss well.

In a small saucepan, combine the 1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp of olive oil with the garlic, marjoram sprigs, crushed red pepper and 2 Tsp kosher salt. Bring the oil to a simmer , then pour it over the eggplant and toss. Let stand for 1 hour. Discard the marjoram sprigs. [Note: The eggplant can be made a day ahead and kept covered in the refrigerator. ]

In a pot of boiling water, cook the orechhiette until al dente. Drain the pasta, reserving 3/4 cups of the cooking water.

Add the eggplant to the pot and cook over moderate heat, stirring lightly, until hot, about 30 seconds. Add the pasta and 1/2 the reserved cooking liquid and cook, tossing for about 30 seconds. Remove from the pot and stir in the pecorino and parsley. If too sticky and dry, then add a bit more of the reserved cooking liquid.

Spoon the pasta into bowls. Dot the pasta with the creamy burrata filling. Garnish with the lemon zest, chile strips and marjoram leaves and serve. Make sure each dish gets a good share of the "garnishing" because that is what really creates a "wow" dish. Yields: 4 Servings.

Ode to a Peach

"From Blossoms" by Li-Young Lee

From blossoms comes

this brown bag of peaches

we bought from the boy

at the bend in the road where we turned toward

signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,

from sweet fellowship in the bins,

comes nectar at the roadside, succulent

peaces we devour, dusty skin and all,

comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,

to carry within us an orchard, to eat

not only the skin, but the shade,

not only the sugar, but the days, to hold

the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into

the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live

as if death were nowhere

in the background; from joy

to joy to joy, from wing to wing,

from blossom to blossom to

impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

That pretty much sums it up for me. Is there a more divine fruit than the peach? It's a personal mission to eat them as often as possible while they're in season. I make a beeline for the peach stand at the Farmers Market each Saturday. I don't even feel badly when I bump into an old man or step on the foot of a small child in my quest (but I do shout my apologies over my shoulder as I run by). It's serious business.

I found a beautifully simple and tasty recipe for a dessert I served last weekend. Let me remind you I'll only take on baked goods if there is no icing, no ingredients listed in ounces, and preferably no electric mixer involved. This fit all the criteria, plus made a delicious canvas for my beloved peaches.

It comes from the amazing Lee Brothers' most recent cookbook Simple Fresh Southern that my mom gave me. This book is filled with all the good parts of Southern cooking. Fancy enough to serve to company, but with down-home flavor and the simplicity you crave for everyday meals. For me, I always feel like I'm eating a bit of home in each bite. It's comfort food — elevated.

And I'm not the only peach fan around here. . . .

Buttermilk Pudding Cakes with Bourbon Peaches

Ingredients

3/4 cup sifted all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

2 large eggs

3/4 cup buttermilk (you can use low-fat)

1 tsp vanilla extract

1/3 cup sugar

4 Tbsp (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temperature

2 lbs ripe peaches (about 8 medium)

2 cups bourbon

1/2 cup sugar

1/2 tsp kosher salt

Vanilla ice cream or whipped cream

Directions

Heat oven to 425 degrees with a rack positioned in the top third of the oven.

Sift the flour with the baking powder in a large bowl. In a second large bowl, beat the eggs with a whisk until creamy and yellow, and then whisk in the buttermilk, vanilla extract, sugar and butter. The mixture will look curdy and broken; that is fine. Add the flour mixture to the egg mixture and whisk until the batter is combined and smooth.

Divide the batter among 9 standard-size nonstick muffin-pan cups, filling them 2/3-full. Bake for 9 minutes. Check the cakes by inserting a knife tip between the rim of the cake and the muffin cup and pulling gently to expose the side of the cake. If the side of the cake appears evenly browned, the cakes will hold together when inverted and are ready. If not, continue baking for another minute and then check again. When the cakes are done, invert them onto a cooling rack until ready to eat.

Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, bring enough water to cover the peaches to a boil. Cut an X into each peach at the pointed end (opposite the stem end). Drop the peaches into the boiling water and cook until the skin loosens, 1 - 2 minutes (depending on the ripeness of the peaches). [Note: This technique can be used to peel tomatoes too.] Remove the peaches from the water and set aside until cool enough to handle. Gently peel off the skins, cut into wedges, and pack the peaches in a quart jar or arrange them in a medium bowl.

In a large saucepan, bring the bourbon to a gentle simmer over medium-low heat, and add the sugar and salt. Continue to simmer until the mixture is syrupy, about 6 minutes. [Note: this took more like 15 for me.]

Pour the syrup over the fruit, seal the jar or cover the bowl, and let cool. Then chill in the refrigerator for at least a few hours before serving on top of the buttermilk cakes with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream. [Note: The peaches will keep in the refrigerator for about 3 days.] Yields: 9 servings.

Thanks for Showing Up

This post comes from "sunny California," where I'm currently bundled up in an enormous sweater with my heater turned on. What the hell? The glorious days of Summer seem to have evaporated — almost as quickly as it arrived. We had one glorious day of sunshine on July 1st . . . and then June Gloom came back with a vengeance. In fact, it's worse than June Gloom. It's downright cold. Today's high was 61 degrees for goodness sakes! And mind you, the poor folks in the Northeast are in the midst of a heatwave. I don't know where you stand on global warming, but clearly something's out of whack.

I'm very grateful, though, the sun did show up for a few hours over the weekend, which was just enough time to fit in a BBQ dinner. I invited some friends over and had grand visions of us taking refuge from a scorching Summer day while floating on rafts in the pool and sipping watermelon margaritas before moving on to ribs and then basking in the glow of the setting sun with full tummies and slight sunburns. I'm "an organizer" by nature and get a bit stressed when things don't go according to my plan. Living in California has mellowed me out some, but still I was getting anxious when it was 4:30 PM and the sun had yet to make an appearance. I reluctantly put away the umbrellas, but in an act of weather defiance I whipped up a batch of watermelon margaritas. No lie, seconds later the clouds parted and made room for the sun. Smart sun. Those margaritas were not to be missed!

Independence Day always makes me proud to be an American — and want to eat very American food. For me that's slow-cooked ribs, potato salad and cole slaw. And since it's (allegedly) Summer, peaches have to be in the mix.

I added some pimento cheese dip to start with (a Southern staple at any party!) and threw in some Bourbon in the dessert, because a good Southerner is always looking for an excuse to enjoy Bourbon.

For a Type A personality, it's surprising that I gravitate to trying new recipes when entertaining, but I often do. My recent grilling initiation gave me the confidence to try ribs. I figured it was pretty impossible to screw up slow-roasted pork. Slather on some sauce and it had to be a winner. It definitely was. The meat literally fell off the bones. I had to leave the racks in tact because I couldn't even transfer them to the platter without the meat sliding off.

I was a little skeptical about the sauce because I'm not from Texas or Kansas so tomato-based sauces can be off-putting, but this had real depth and tanginess. Not too sweet at all.

By the time dessert rolled around, we were too cold to sit outdoors and enjoy the buttermilk pudding cakes with bourbon peaches.

But I realized if you could at least share beautiful summertime ingredients with good friends — even if bundled in jackets indoors, it's pretty close to perfect.

Slow, Low Oven Ribs

From Screen Doors and Sweet Tea

Note: This is a fabulous cookbook! I bought it as a thank you present for a friend, but ended up keeping it for myself. I've never made a recipe that hasn't turned out fabulously delicious — and with little effort. And it's chock full of endearing stories to make anybody wish they'd been born a Southerner — or find a way to get there as quickly as possible.

Ingredients

2 (14.5 oz) cans diced tomatoes, with juice

1/4 cup minced sweet onion

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

1/2 cup cane syrup or maple syrup

2 Tbsp soy sauce

2 Tbsp tomato relish, such as Mrs. Renfro's (optional)

4 bay leaves

4 lbs country-style pork ribs (or spareribs but not babyback as they have less meat for the money)

Salt and freshly-ground pepper

Directions

In a small saucepan, combine the tomatoes, onion, garlic and red pepper flakes. Simmer over medium-low heat until reduced in half. The recipe says this takes about 15 minutes, but it took me more like 30. Stir in syrup, soy sauce and tomato relish (if desired).

Preheat oven to 300 degrees and line a 9x13 -inch baking dish with foil. Place the bay leaves in the bottom of the dish.

Season the ribs with salt and pepper or a little grilling spices and arrange in the baking dish. Pour half of the sauce over the ribs, turning a few times to coat. Cover tightly with foil and refrigerate the remaining sauce.

Bake for 3 hours. Remove the foil and pour the remaining sauce over the ribs. Return to the oven and bake uncovered for an additional hour, or until the sauce is a thick glaze and the meat is tender.

Remove the ribs to a serving platter and let stand 15 minutes. Ladle off any accumulated fat by tilting the pan carefully and spooning it off. Remove the bay leaves and pour the remaining pan sauce into a small saucepan. Bring to a steady boil and cook until reduced by half, about 15 minutes. Pour over the ribs or serve along side in a separate bowl. Yield: 4 generous servings. Note: The ribs can also be made the night before and then warmed over indirect heat on the grill the next day.

Grilling Neophyte

I've been traveling like a dog for the past two months. Hence the dearth of posts. Sorry about that and thanks for your patience. I think I'm back home for a bit so pledge to get back on the posting band wagon. So without further ado. . . .

One of my resolutions this year was to learn how to grill. While it may seem fairly innocuous to some, it's always intimidated me. I guess I've been of the opinion that the grill is part of the male domain. Right up there next to taking the trash out and putting up the Christmas lights. Yet I pride myself on being a Modern Woman so figured it was high time to face the grill-fearing music. And I will go ahead and acknowledge the fact that we're halfway through the year and I'm just now getting around to this resolution.

Santa Barbara has been living up to its June Gloom moniker this year, which means we get socked in by a cold, gray, misty marine layer until about 2 pm each day. You start the day off in jeans and a sweatshirt, but then find yourself donning a tank tank and flip flops in the afternoon to soak up the glorious rays of Vitamin D spilling forth from the vibrant blue sky. It's weather schizophrenia for sure. But the evenings are also epic weather for grilling. After being on the road so often of late, I've been hankering to get cooking again. And coming off a week of gluttony in Vegas, salads seem to be appropriate. I absolutely adore the late sunlight hours of summer, but the downside is that it can be creeping up on 8 o'clock at night before I start to think about dinner. Despite the hour last night, I felt inspired to uncover the grill and take a shot at grilling.

Of course I thought it wise to begin with the remedial chicken breast. I had earmarked a recipe for a grilled chicken Caesar salad which I'd been saving for such an occasion. I honestly wish someone had filmed the whole endeavor as it was quite humorous. I'm pretty sure I bought a very low-entry grill (which would be gas for you hardcore charcoal fundamentalists), however, I still felt completely incompetent trying to operate it. I can be a fairly inquisitive person, much to the annoyance of many, and have a deep need to always understand what I'm doing, so the whole time I'm asking questions out loud — to no one but myself, mind you:

"How many burners should be turned on to cook 3 chicken breasts? "

"Am I supposed to cook with the lid up or down?"

"I know, righty tighty, lefty loosey. But which direction is OFF for the gas?"

I kept expecting my dear neighbor, Chris, to hear my confusion, take pity on me and come to my rescue. I'm glad he didn't though. I will spare you the drama (rest assured I did figure out how to turn off the gas), but I survived. I actually did better than that. I'm quite proud to say the meal was delicious. The chicken was juicy and flavorful, the grilled romaine had an alluring smokiness, and the toasted garlic croutons could be habit forming. The dressing made it all come together. If you think you don't like anchovies, well you do! It's the perfect balance of salty, tangy and fresh. The simpler the dish, I think the more challenging it is to pull it off. Grilling all the components of this iconic dish really elevated it and made it seem special. It was also fast and easy, which is great when you start cooking dinner at 8 PM. And if you take away one thing from this entry, please try grilling romaine. It will make you rethink lettuce.

Even if my meal was beginner's luck, I have some newfound confidence about "cooking in a man's world." Hmm, what's next on the grilling docket? Would love to hear any favorite grilling recipes for minor leaguers.

I still hate taking the trash out though.

Grilled Chicken Caesar Salad

Slightly adapted from Food Network Magazine

Ingredients

1/2 cup olive oil

4 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

1 Tbsp herbs de Provence

2 tsp Dijon mustard

Salt

Pepper

1 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts

3 cloves garlic

2-4 anchovy fillets, chopped (Get Crown Prince flat anchovies in olive oil. They're the best!)

Juice of 1 lemon

4 1/2-inch thick slices of focaccia or French bread

4 romaine lettuce hearts, halved lengthwise

3/4 cup parmesan cheese, sliced with vegetable peeler

Directions

Place 1/4 cup of olive oil plus next 5 ingredients in a ziploc bag and add chicken breast. Let marinade for at least 2 hours.

Preheat grill to medium high. Mix remaining 1/4 cup olive oil with 2 chopped garlic cloves and puree with anchovies and lemon juice in a blender until smooth; season with salt and pepper.

Grill chicken for approximately 7 minutes a side or until done. [That's the funny part of the directions coming from someone who knows nothing about grilling. That's how long I cooked it for and it was perfectly done but I feel the need to put out a disclaimer.]

Brush the romaine with 1-2 Tbsp of the dressing and grill until marked, 1 to 2 minutes per side. Brush the bread with olive oil on both sides and grill, turning until toasted, about 2 minutes. Rub with the remaining garlic clove. [If you're sensitive to garlic, then skip this or just rub it lightly over the bread.]

Chop the lettuce, bread and chicken and transfer to bowl. Toss with more dressing as desired, the parmesan and salt and pepper to taste.

Keen-What?!

I think most people grew up with a fairly confined diet. Not confined in a boring sense, but more like normal or indicative of your family or region. What you eat seems ordinary . . . until you realize not everyone eats like that. As a child, I found it both alarming and exhilarating. Through the years, it's become an enlightening process for me, and one that I really enjoy. I've definitely become acquainted and even extremely fond of food that otherwise would've been absent in my life. And that would flat out be a crying shame.

Bagels for instance.

I can still recall vividly the first bite of a bagel I ever had. I was living in Panama (probably in 3rd grade) and had spent the night at the Healy's. While I was accustomed to biscuits at breakfast, they served up bagels. My mom was fairly fanatical about manners so I knew I could only say, "Thank you" upon being handed this odd doughnut-shaped roll. But I've always been a bread lover so immediately took a bite. And oh what a glorious moment that was as I savored the soft yet slightly chewy doughy goodness. My friend Suzanna poked me and said encouragingly, "It's even better if you put cream cheese and grape jelly on it!" I was thinking, "What? First you hand me this novel baked good and now you're throwing in cream cheese for goodness sakes?! What the heck is cream cheese?!" In short my parents were stunned when I came home and told them I wanted to start eating bagels with cream cheese for breakfast. This was coming from a girl who didn't want anything besides butter touching any bread — ever.

I was an admittedly picky eater as a child, but my parents always made us try at least one bite of everything. And I'm glad they did because I've definitely broadened my confined diet over the years as a result of their attitude. Although I absolutely adore many of my familiar foods (i.e. fried catfish, fried green tomatoes, fried chicken, chicken fried steak, fried oysters, fried . . . .), I equally love all the wonderful things I've now adopted into my standard fare. Balsamic vinegar, hummus, chorizo, edamame, couscous and quinoa, to name just a few.

Uh, quinoa? What the hell is that? That was pretty much my first response upon formal introduction. Well, that and wondering how on Earth do you pronounce it. It's one of those words like "toile," which rhymes with "y'all" and obviously completely rejects the whole phonetic spelling concept. I saw the word referenced in a vegetarian cooking magazine (which of course was not picked up until I moved to California) and assumed it was pronounced "quinn-owah." The locals here had a heyday with that one. It turns out it's pronounced "keen-whah." I was like, "Whatever, you hippies. My fried chicken can kick your tofu's ass any day."

My ego has recovered now, and I must say I heart quinoa. It's super versatile, quick cooking, fail-proof and extremely healthy. I love it so much, I even buy huge bags of it at Costco. But most of all, I love it because it tastes and feels like you're carb loading when you're really protein packing. Quinoa is actually a protein-rich seed (once considered sacred by the Incas) and cousin to leafy greens like swiss chard and spinach.

So what can you do with it? Basically use it anyway you'd use rice or couscous. It lends itself well to being "doctored up." You can make a southwestern rift (with black beans, corn and cilantro), a Mediterranean version (with sun-dried tomatoes, chick peas, and broccoli) an Asian spin (with mushrooms, bok choy, ginger) . . . I think you get my drift. My new favorite recipe follows. It's the perfect picnic dish! And got many rave reviews from several quinoa virgins yesterday. Try it in the name of diet expansion. You'll like it. You'll wonder how you could've managed without quinoa for so long.

I'm still working on vegamite though.

P.S. I forgot to take photos so this is courtesy of Marina, our picnic host.

Greek-Style Quinoa with Grilled Shrimp

adapted from Fitness magazine

Ingredients

1 lb shrimp, shelled and cleaned

6 Tbsp olive oil

Juice of 1 lemon

2 garlic cloves, minced

1/2 tsp coarse salt

1/2 tsp ground pepper

1 cup grape tomatoes, halved

3/4 cup Kalamata olives, halved or quartered

1 yellow bell pepper, chopped

1 large shallot, chopped

1/2 cup flat-leaf parsley, coarsely chopped

1/3 cup fresh mint, coarsely chopped

4 oz feta, crumbled

1 cup quinoa

2 cups water

Directions

Place shrimp, 2 Tbsp olive oil, 2 Tbsp lemon juice, 1 minced garlic clove, 1/4 tsp salt and pepper in a bowl.

Bring 2 cups water to a bowl in a 2 qt pot and add quinoa. Return to a boil and then reduce heat to medium and cook quinoa, covered, for 12 minutes. Remove from heat and let sit covered for 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat 2 Tbsp olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add remaining clove garlic, shallots and bell pepper. Saute until soft, approximately 5 - 7 minutes. Remove and place in a large bowl.

Add tomatoes, cut side up, in the same skillet and cook over medium-high heat for 2 minutes or until starting to char. Add them to the large bowl, along with chopped olives, feta, mint and parsley. Mix in quinoa.

Heat a grill pan on high heat and then add shrimp (without marinade). Cook 2 minutes on one side or until shrimp is starting to get opaque and then flip. Cook additional minute and remove from heat. Add to the quinoa mix. You may want to cut shrimp in half before adding.

Drizzle with remaining 2 Tbsp of olive oil and lemon juice. Can be served warm, cold or at room temperature. Keeps in the refrigerator for several days. Yields: 6 servings.

Chicken, Steak and Chocolate Cake

Chicken, Steak and Chocolate Cake.

That's what I had for dinner last night. The awesome part of that is that it's one dish. Not in a gross I'm-going-to-pile-every-item-from-a-giant-buffet-on-my-plate-at-once-way but in a lovely segregated fashion.

And you had such an encouraging reminder to save room for dessert. And what a dessert. It was one of the richest, most decadent pieces of chocolate cake to touch my taste buds. It should have had a name like Death by Chocolate or Chocoholic's Ecstasy. Anyway, the whole meal was decadent . . . a 1:1 ratio of spud to fat for the mashed potatoes, bacon-wrapped filet, chicken sauced with beurre blanc. Definitely what the doctor ordered for a night out with the girls.

The late night pizza, unfortunately, was not of the same caliber, but that didn't stop me from eating it at 2 am.

Happy Memorial Day!