Moderation

Generally speaking I'm a believer in "all things in moderation," but there are times when that simply can't apply. Like the annual Oscar Night of Gluttony. You may recall hearing about it here and here. Basically, three of us make a dish or drink that represents each of the nine best picture nominations. And then we eat it all while watching the Academy Awards. Thankfully because this is a live event and we're on the west-coast, we get started early, but somehow that means we don't stop early. We tend to keep eating and drinking while we watch hours and hours of post-show commentaries on fashion, winners and parties.

I think the menu and the execution this year deserved an Oscar. Seriously, every movie was stellarly [Is that a word? It should be.] represented. Most courses/movies we wanted more, which is actually kind of disgusting considering that three girls were putting away nine courses — and they weren't small, lady-like portions! Case in point: my chili cheese dog with caramelized onions and crushed Fritos. This was my Moneyball dish. When I think of baseball, I think of hotdogs. And when it's the Oscar Night of Gluttony, you kind of have to go all-out! See Exhibit A:

I'm not one opposed to spending hours and sometimes even days in the kitchen to make a fancy or special meal, and I'm happy to report it's usually met with positive, even borderline adoring, comments. But I basically didn't make anything for this dish except the caramelized onions. I was just off a plane so was rushed for time and made a detour to 7-11 to grab a cardboard dish [yep, that's the best serving vessel they offer] of chili, which they were nice enough to give me for free — probably because they've never seen anyone during daylight hours come in trying to buy some. It's kind of like eating at Krystal's during the day — you Southerners know what I'm talking about! Anyway, I boiled the hotdogs (which I did try to find some that were nitrate-free, grass-fed, somethin'-or-other—I do live in CA, you know?), toasted some buns, and added some spicy mustard, caramelized onions and grated cheese. But for the crowning touch, I added some crushed Fritos, which I also picked up at 7-11 along with the chili. A stroke of genius I wish I could claim, but I think I saw it on some Man vs. Food episode, which probably also included a Philly cheese steak and fried mozzarella sticks on top. How that dude is still alive is a mystery to me. . .

Anyway, it was borderline gross but delightfully delicious. I mean no one would normally serve this to guests or eat this unless they're at a diner at 3 am with a blood alcohol level of 0.3, but damn was it good! And despite the fact that it took me a mere 10 minutes to assemble this dish, I don't think I've even received such a rousing chorus of accolades. One guest even told me it was the best thing I've ever made. I'm like, "You mean the best thing I've never made?" I wasn't offended because it really did hit the spot after . . . . the 8 other courses we had!

Meredith kicked us off with a classic and perfectly chilled mint julep, the quintessential Southern cocktail, in honor of The Help.

That was followed by spam sushi, representing The Descendants, which takes place in Hawaii. Spam is a beloved "protein" of the Islands, but we tend to mock it here on the mainland. After eating this dish, I must say, as white trash as it sounds, I think we need more spam over here! It was delicious, albeit heavily dressed in a sweet, tangy, doctored-up soy sauce. I've always said with enough soy sauce, anything can be consumed. . . .

Meredith finished out her triple with some homemade — yes, homemade! — soft pretzels with habañero mustard as a homage to New York City, where Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close was set.

Karen got a standing ovation for her pan-seared Kobe rib-eye with béarnaise sauce (for The Artist, an elegant dish representing the glitz and glamour of Hollywood in the 1930s), which she served with glazed baby turnips and carrots (for War Horse — even though I'm quite certain no horse has eaten vegetables that delicious!). Seriously, it was probably one of the best steaks I've ever had. I hope she'll share her secret.

Karen closed out her session with petits pains au chocolat, in the spirit of Hugo, which was one of two Best Picture nominations set in France.

We continued our venture to France, when I served up roasted ratatouille on olive bread crostini with chèvre cheese for Midnight in Paris, which was one of my favorite movies on the year.

My last movie was probably the hardest one for me to pair: Tree of Life. I didn't see it but know it was about a family in Texas in the 1950s. I was channeling Southern food — think bacon and buttermilk — and a little smokiness for Texas — enter cayenne, and the stay-at-home mom of this era who'd bake you cookies when you came home from school. The result was a delightful, slightly spicy chocolate chip pecan cookie made with buttermilk and bacon grease.

Again, maybe not the most common cookie recipe you'd whip out for company, but definitely fitting for the gluttonous occasion. And dang, I gotta say those were good cookies. Recipe to come for sure! Because gluttony loves company!

April Showers

I'm not sure if April knows this or not, but it's not supposed to be here yet. And its showers are definitely not supposed to be here yet. But that's what we've got in Santa Barbara at the moment. Early April Showers. Or Late March Showers. And that means soup was a necessity for dinner tonight. And I'm not even going to feel guilty for the fire I built and am sitting in front of as I type this. It's chilly. It's wet. It's good to be in a toasty home.

I've had this recipe sitting around for eleven months. I never got around to making it last spring, but today seemed like a good time to try it. It's fresh-tasting but comforting. And after an indulgent evening last night attending a gala which was follow-up by bottle service here, I felt like feeding my body something nutritious might help make up for the excessive alcohol and late-night pizza? Wishful thinking perhaps but I have always been an optimist.

Curried Shrimp-and-Corn Chowder

from Southern Living

Ingredients

1 medium-size sweet onion, diced

2 Tbsp olive oil

2 large Yukon gold potatoes (around 1 lb. total), peeled and diced

1 large sweet potato (1 lb.), peeled and diced

2 cups fresh corn kernels (about 4 ears)

1 (14 oz.) can chicken broth

1 (13.5 oz.) can unsweetened lite coconut milk

2 tsp curry powder

1 tsp salt

1/2 tsp pepper

1 lb. peeled large shrimp, chopped if desired

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

Directions

Saute onion in hot oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat 5 minutes or until tender; add garlic, and saute 1 minute.

Add Yukon gold potatoes and next 7 ingredients; bring to a boil, stirring often. Reduce heat, and simmer, stirring occasionally, 25 minutes or until potatoes are tender.

Stir in shrimp and cilantro; cook 4-5 minutes or just until shrimp turn pink. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

If you want to get fancy, top with chopped green onions, cilantro and/or roasted peanuts.

Serves 8.

Market Research

I'm a big fan of market research. Big fan. Wow, I know I sound like a total geek but it's true. I find it fascinating what kind of data is being collected out there and how it's being used to retarget you for products and promotions. I was even convinced when they first started making you enter your zip code at the gas pump that it was part of some elaborate project to see how far away from your house you buy gas so they could determine the catchment area and open more gas stations, a kin to what Starbuck's does when they open a store on each street corner. Clearly, my imagination got away from me because everyone knows the zip code is tied to your credit card billing information and is actually a security measure. OK, so it appears that everything is not about market research.

But years ago I read an interesting market research article on scotch — more specifically why people don't order scotch when they're out on the town. The result: Men felt it was a stodgy drink their fathers or grandfathers would consume, and the women were of the opinion that it was too strong for them to handle. As a result, the flavored vodka craze commenced because the research showed that vodka was the magic mixer. You could infuse it with almost anything and people would buy it. For obvious reason, bars and restaurants loved it, as well as the distilleries. Another interesting outcome of the market research was that if a signature cocktail with scotch was offered as a special, the sales catapulted. It turns out people don't really know how to drink scotch. But if my cool bartender gives me the thumbs up, I'm likely to try it. The most popular concoction they found during their research was scotch, pineapple juice and grenadine. Honestly after I read that, I went out that night and ordered the same thing. And guess what? It was pretty good. But not good enough to dethrone my beloved bourbon and convert me into a scotch drinker. Not even close.

Anyway, this weekend I enjoyed a lovely (and late) dinner at a new Greek restaurant in town. As my dinner companion and I were leaving, the owner came over to see how we enjoyed the meal and service. We raved (which was genuine) and told him we were headed out for a nightcap. He implored us to stay and have a drink at the bar on the house. And he insisted on serving us his favorite drink, called Glenlivet's Girlfriend. In spite of my past positive market research experience with scotch, I was skeptical. Mainly because I think it tastes like peat moss on wood. But I'm not one to turn down free alcohol, so accepted the gracious offer.

The bartender served up a beautiful yet simple cocktail comprised of Glenlivet and a honey liqueur called Bärenjäger, which is something I've never heard of let alone tried. It was finished off with a lovely lemon twist. It had a really nice warmth to it, almost butterscotchy, even though it was served cold. It was super well balanced, with the smokiness, honey and citrus. It was so good that I drank half of it before I thought about taking a photograph of it! And then I had a second!

Honestly, if you ever feel a sore throat coming on or it's pouring cats and dogs when you're looking for a nightcap, I highly recommend this. But if you just want to participate in some self-directed market research, then by all means investigate!

Sprung

I know Spring doesn't officially arrive for a few more weeks, but I think it already sprung in Santa Barbara! And this makes me feel a little giddy. Warmer weather, longer hours of light, the scent of honey suckle wafting through the air, and flip flops so you can wiggle your toes. . . . Ahhhh, what's not to like?!

I am fresh off a trip to the farmers market this morning and couldn't help but share the color fest of items that greeted me. I think every color of the rainbow was represented:

And I love that I always see something new at the market. Today it was a stunning flower called Cancelaria, which almost had a sea urchin-like quality to it — with a little suspended hat overhead.

Happy weekend to all!

Slim Tuesday

Guess what tomorrow is? It's Mardi Gras, also known as Fat Tuesday! This marks the last chance to indulge before 40 days of Lent sets in. It usually involves a lot of drinking, eating, carousing and parade attending. It's basically my kind of holiday. :-) But this year I'm not in New Orleans for the festivities but figured I could celebrate in spirit. I found a way to go "slim" though without losing any of the flavor with a beautiful and healthy riff on a stuffed pepper—Cajun style. It tastes sinfully good.

This dish is perfect for entertaining (easy, impressive and delicious) so you don't have to miss out on any of the fun. Invite some friends over, make one of these traditional New Orleans cocktails, and throw some beads at each other. Shirt lifting is optional . . . .

Happy Mardi Gras!

Cajun Stuffed Peppers

Adapted from The Food Network magazine

Ingredients

1 package frozen brown rice (or 1 cup long-grain brown rice)

1/2 cup quinoa

2 large red or green bell peppers, halved lengthwise and seeded

1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

1 medium onion, chopped

1/2 lb cooked andouille sausage, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 tsp dried thyme

Large pinch of allspice

Kosher salt

1 14-oz can low-sodium diced tomatoes

1 bunch of kale, stems removed, leaves chopped

Chopped fresh parsley, for topping (optional)

Instructions

1. Cook frozen rice in microwave according to directions. If you're using conventional rice, prepare according to directions. Place 1 cup water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Add 1/2 cup quinoa, simmer and cook 12 minutes. Mix together and set both aside.

2. Meanwhile, drizzle peppers with 1 Tbsp water in a microwave-safe bowl. Cover with plastic wrap; microwave 10 minutes.

3. Preheat over to 350 degrees.

4. Heat olive oil in a wide saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until golden, about 5 minutes. Add the sausage, garlic, thyme, allspice and 1/2 tsp salt and cook, stirring, until the sausage is brown and crisp, about 3 more minutes.

5. Add the rice mixture, as well as the tomatoes and 1 cup water, to the pan. Pile the kale on top, cover and cook until the kale wilts, about 5 minutes. Stir the kale into the sauce and simmer until liquid is mostly reduced and kale is tender, another 8-10 minutes. Check seasoning, adding more salt and pepper if needed.

6. Spoon heaping spoonfuls of rice mixture into each half of the softened peppers until very full. Cover with aluminum foil and cook in over for approximately 30 minutes or until heated thoroughly.

Better With Bacon?

TGIF! And boy do I have a treat for you today! My dear friend Ames, an old college buddy and beer aficionado from Dallas—who has a personal goal of drinking 366 different beers in 2012 (it's a leap year!), was kind enough to accept my invitation to guest blog here. Well, it may have been more of a challenge than an invitation, which was the result of a post he made on Facebook announcing Jack in the Box's new Bacon Milkshake. As Southerners, we often proclaim that everything tastes better with bacon, but can that apply to a milkshake too? So I dared him to try it and then blog about it. And he did! So take it away Ames!

Thanks! It's an honor to be asked by Holley to guest blog on SB in SB, as I'm much more prolific in my drinking (see here and here) than my discriminating palate. But as I've recently turned 40 (I'm sooo much older than Holls), I'm making an effort to consume for quality rather than quantity. However in some respects, I lack discrimination and refinement. Like when it comes to bacon.

During the Super Bowl I was actually put off a bit by the Jack and the Box (JITB) commercial with the annoying guy who announces to his mother that he is going to "marry Bacon." But the following week, I was intrigued and then quickly obsessed with the news that JITB had come out with a bacon milkshake! I quickly proclaimed on Facebook that I was going to try one, and Holls challenged me to do it and then blog about it here.

The same day I got Holley's challenge, I decided I had to try the bacon milkshake. I went through the drive-thru line, placed my order and drove up to the pick-up window. The young lady at the window asked me if I like the bacon milkshake, and I told her it would be my first. I then asked her what she thought about it, to which the young lady—who had multiple facial piercings and looked like she knew the meaning of the phase—said "It's wild, man" and handed it over to me.

My first thought upon seeing it was . . . whipped cream and a cherry? I'd forgotten that JITB tops all of their shakes thusly. So once I got past that I took my first sip: Salt and smoke. The flavors overwhelmed the first sip, which was very confusing given how cold and creamy it was. I didn't even taste bacon until I had the second or third sip. I had to agree with the cashier. It was wild. The combination of the mouthfeel of a milkshake—though it did have some grainy chunks I can only assume were supposed to be bacon—with the smoky, salty, slightly bacony flavory was disconcerting although not off-putting for the first half of the milkshake. Once I reconciled the cold and sweet of the shake with the savory flavors, it really wasn't all that bad.

Now, I'm not saying it was outright great, but I did finish the shake. If you're at all temped to try this—and I do think you owe it to yourself to give it a fair shot—I would recommend getting it without the whipped cream and cherry. The end of the shake was too sweet for my taste once the whipped cream mixed in. But honestly, I'll probably end up getting another (despite the 773 calories and 75 grams of sugar) before this promotion is over. That is if I can squeeze one in between all the beer.

Thanks for letting me share, Holls, and if anyone feels compelled to share a beer to help me meet my goal of drinking 366 different beers this leap year, drop me a line at huttona@yahoo.com or post a comment on my blog.

—Ames

What to Cook Next

I buy a lot of skinless, boneless chicken breasts with big plans to cook them in high rotation, but then when I go to reach for them, something stops me. It's like a little voice in my head pipes up and says, "Do you really want to eat a dry and tasteless piece of rubber?" Well, when you say it like that, the answer is a definite no.

But recently (or maybe not so recently, I can't keep track these days. OK, I just checked and it was October.), I tore out a recipe from Food & Wine magazine showcasing the most succulent, juicy looking chicken I've ever seen from a feature called "What to Cook Next." It was a pretty haughty directive, but one I was willing to (eventually) take. And I'm glad I did.

It kind of started when I decided I had to clean out my freezer. I saw the sad bag of chicken breasts and knew it was probably one of the first things I should address. I recalled said recipe but thought the food editors might have met their match this time. Frankly the recipe looked too easy. I felt like I needed something magical to transform this pitiful chicken. And that's exactly what happened. Magic.

It started out with pretty much the same drill: heat olive oil in a skillet and season and cook the chicken over moderately high heat, turning, for about 10 minutes.

You add garlic and onions and then some broth with crushed coriander. It cooked on low heat for another 15 minutes, until the chicken was cooked through. I actually split the breasts in half to make them cook more evenly and quicker. 15 minutes definitely did the trick.

Next, I transferred the cooked breasts to a platter and coverd to keep warm. I then whisked the whole-grain mustard, crème fraîche and tarragon into the broth and simmered over medium heat until thickened, about 5 minutes. This is the magic part I mentioned earlier.

I added back in the chicken breasts to coat in sauce and then plated.

And it was so frickin' good. Make this. It's what you should cook next.

Chicken Dijon

from Food & Wine

Ingredients

1 tsp coriander seeds

2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (cut in half across if needed)

Salt and freshly ground pepper

1/4 cup chopped onion

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth

2 Tbsp whole-grain mustard

3 Tbsp crème fraîche or sour cream

2 tsp chopped fresh tarragon

Crusty bread for serving

Directions

1. In a large skillet, toast the coriander seeds over moderately high heat until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Transfer seeds to a mortar and let cool. Crush the seeds coarsely with the pestle.

2. In the same skillet, heat the olive oil until shimmering. Season the chicken with salt and pepper, add them to the skillet and cook over moderately high heat, turning, until golden brown all over, about 10 minutes. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the broth and crushed coriander and bring to a boil. Cover and cook over moderately low heat until the chicken is cooked through, about 15 minutes.

3. Transfer the chicken to a platter, cover and keep warm. Whisk the mustard, crème fraîche and tarragon into the skillet and simmer the sauce over moderate heat until thickened, about 5 minutes. Return chicken to the skillet to coast. Plate and serve with crusty bread.

Note: Serves 4 and can be refrigerated for up to 3 days, but it will be eaten well before then!