To steal a quote from Del, "treacherous like Mussolini, but cooler than Fonzerelli eating fusilli." In this case, the subject would be the deliciousness of this dish.

At this point I feel like making excuses for not blogging is akin to a literary cop-out when I've got nothing else on my mind to start an intro. I mean, look at this sad excuse for an intro, I'm writing about it being a cop-out which is nothing more than a meta-cop-out. And now that I've recognized that and talked about that, it just makes it even more meta. Hence forth, I shall cease discussion of how my lack of wittiness when I'm full leads to lackluster blog posting.

But, seriously, folks? I'm so full I can barely keep my eyes open. I haven't cooked anything write-about-able in a while (as you might be able to tell), so I decided to go forth with full gusto tonight and make something that would be a) delicious, b) have enough in it to make it more than a paragraph and c) satisfy Julie's food habits. You'd be surprised how hard to can be to fill each of those criteria. Example: last night's dinner: chicken breasts cooked on the stove top with a salad and twice-baked potatoes (ricotta, milk, salt, pepper and broccoli florets) — see it's not all homemade ravoli and foie gras here at the Kennedy household. But, that was a meal that definitely filled a and c, but left b a little lacking. i mean, here's a recipe: "salt chicken. place in hot pan and reduce heat to medium. Cook 7-9 minutes per side until golden, brown, delicious and 165°F. Let rest 5-10 minutes before consuming." Not really what I'd call a Wagnerian epic.

This dish definitely has roots in hip-hop going back to Whodini.

Being that I've been away for the past week or so (Conference! Vegas!) I also wanted to make something that would be a little on the special side. Knowing that Julie loves red pepper in tomato sauce (and also, pasta) I figured I couldn't miss with that. So I got two red peppers, and then roasted them to add to the smoothness; sautéed red peppers in sauce give it a weird pepper-liquid off flavor, hence the roasting. I had originally planned on adding mushrooms too and serving it with left-over salad from last night, but I stopped in the Grand Central Market on the way home to get some bread and spied this AMAZING loaf of rustic semolina bread that screamed "take me home and let me get inside of you" and so, I listened to it. And I'm glad I did. Only instead of putting the mushrooms in the sauce, the bread looked at me and whispered, "Bathe me in those mushrooms. I want to swim with the fungi, I want to live, to breathe, to be wiped down with garlic. I want, nay will, become a crostini of epic proportions." And much like when E.F. Hutton spoke, I listened. So I got some fresh made ricotta from Murray's Cheese and then some fresh spinach from the green grocer, because, honestly, at this point, could I have served left over salad? No. I feel like the fusilli would have sent me to sleep with the fishes.

You know what? Time is of the essence.

So I got home excited for my roast mushroom crostini but when I was getting out the fresh tube of tomato paste for the sauce I spotted the two containers of dried mushrooms I had left in the cupboard from when my dad came over for dinner a while ago. Why not up the fungus with them and their soaking liquid. So I left the porcini and chanterelles to soak in some boiling water while I cut up the white button mushrooms along with some garlic and thyme. Some olive oil went into the pan followed the garlic and mushrooms and a pinch of salt. When they had worked their way down a little I added the chopped up rehydrated mushrooms and some tomato paste and let that cook a bit and then the rehydrating liquid (strained through a coffee filter) and let that reduce with a few sprigs of thyme. I then cut the bread into nice slices, toasted it and rubbed down with a cut clove of garlic and then sprinkled on a dash of olive oil. When the mushrooms were done (the liquid had reduced super nice), I added a splash of sherry vinegar, and then topped the toast with a thin layer of ricotta, followed by the mushrooms, followed by a sprinkling of fresh chopped thyme. Hello flavor rodeo? You're one bad-ass mouth bronco.

The spinach and pasta were pretty good too. Basic pasta sauce, just with roasted red peppers, and basic spinach with toasted garlic cooked in olive oil.

Alas, the vomitorium awaits.

I haven't seen a spread that good since I last read the phrase "welcome sailors." If you click on it you can hover over the photo and see what's what. Not pictured: John Wilkes Booth, Lee Harvey Oswald. Honorable mention: John Hinkley, David Mark Chapman.

I kind of want to make a t-shirt that says "I threw Julie a party where we drank 13 gallons of beer and this is all I got." Because, honestly, that would sum up the night. By 10 PM, both 5 gallon kegs had been drained and the Oatmeal Stout was not long for this world. Luckily I had saved some in a secret location so there would be something on St. Patrick's Day. I mean, not that I"m Irish or anything. But like, you know. Amateur night and all.

But you didn't come here to read about massive alcohol consumption, right? Or did you... Regardless I'm done talking about it, so well, there you go.

By and by, the initial summation was true. I did throw Julie a party. It's not every year you have a birthday so I figured why not celebrate this one to the nines. Which means, why not spend the birthday with your friends shopping while your lovely husband stays home and cooks for a good five hours straight. Incidentally, that is what happened. Don't worry — I much prefer cooking over shopping. I know, I know, you'd never have guessed, what with my immaculate style of dress. Oh god, I'm rambling again.

Even with all my efforts to make this a "thing" I only got a minor chuckle from one person, the next night, when I said "Hey this is reTARTed." Some people just appreciate good humor.

I keep thinking if I start a new paragraph I'll actually get to writing about the food. I think you've finally gotten your wish. I bet you're also wondering "what in the fuck takes six hours to make?" Well, good sirs, I'll let you in on this: french onion dip, salmon dip, carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, a caramelized onion and goat cheese tart, chili spiced almonds, hummus, grilled chicken with pineapple and peanut satay sauce, cutting vegetables for crudite and a pine-nut-lemon-ricotta filled tart. Aside from the tart (which you've seen before) and the hummus (which you've also seen before) and the carrot cake (which is a specialty of mine), the rest of this was flying by the seat of my pants.

The salmon dip was inspired by two things. 1. Matthew gave us canned salmon for Christmas (they were out of socks!) and 2. Steve Niemic made a salmon dip that was ridiculously good for us when we celebrated our wedding in Vermont. So I mixed together about a cup of sour cream, a cup of mayonnaise, 2 tbls prepared horseradish and a half cup of plain American-style yogurt. (This was actually the base for both dips; a little sour, a little tangy and a little creamy). I then added two cans of drained salmon, a jar of capers (and a little bit of their brine), about 12 minced cornichons, a half bunch of parsley minced, 1 minced garlic clove, the juice and zest of a lemon, and a little salt and pepper to balance it out. The french onion dip was the same base, but about 3 pounds (yes, pounds) of slowly caramelized onions, a splash of sherry vinegar and salt and pepper.

The chicken was marinaded in a mix of pineapple juice, lime juice, soy sauce, mirin, fish sauce, garlic and jalapeños blended in the blender for a few hours, then grilled on skewers with pineapple. The sauce was peanut butter (a cup?), soy sauce, mirin, fish sauce, lime juice, garlic, a little peanut oil and some rice wine vinegar.

See that? That's a bowl of goodness. Right down to the very core of the meaning of the word goodness. That's like a massive ice cream cone on a 95+° day. That's like a Plymouth martini, straight up, extra dry, olives. That, my friends, is perfection.

You know, I never thought I'd grow up and hate snow days. Yet. Here I am. 30 years old (on the verge of 31), on March 2, 2009, coming to the realization that I, yes, I, hate snow days. But only because I am not at home enjoying it as Julie is. I'm sure if you're a teacher or some other sort of public school official, today pretty much rules for you. Honestly though Joel Klein? Come on. It's barely icy out there, there's no real snow in the city, and the subways are running. Did you really need a three-day weekend?

Which brings me to my second point. As I mentioned before, it's March 2. But, like, it's snowing and a gazillion degrees below freezing with the wind-chill. Well, maybe not that cold, but wow. I suppose this is the time when some jackass will quip "March! In like a lion out like a lamb!" You know what, jackass? Next time you say that? I'm gonna throw you to the fucking lions and see if you're so goddamn cheerful anymore. You think Daniel had it rough? You're not even going to get off as easily as Roy did. (Or was that Siegfried?).

Have you ever tried playing Jenga with cornbread? Let me tell you buddy; don't. How do you think one of my cats lost an eye? Yeah. Just don't.

I suppose, however, I should get to the food eventually right? Instead of spiting half the world and swearing a blue streak? I guess you guys deserve that. Especially when I hyped up this post with the caption for the first photo. Especially when this might have been the best chili that I've ever made and it doesn't contain neither tomatoes nor beef nor lamb. Did I mention this chili was fucking awesome? I don't know if I've successfully driven this point home enough yet. THIS CHILI WAS AWESOME!

But why this chili? Why this time? And why no beef nor lamb nor tomatoes? Ah! You see, the idea was, well, the idea was, "I've got some chicken in the freezer, I should use it to make something instead of buying more meat." So, I made a menu for the week including a green chicken chili on it for Sunday night (more on the color later) and then I went off to the store to buy food for the week.

Has anyone noticed what I left out in that last paragraph? Lets look at the facts: 1. Chicken in the freezer on Saturday. 2. Chicken Chili for dinner on Sunday. 3. Going to the store to get food. Wait?! Where's the part where you take the chicken out of the freezer so it can thaw before you cook it? Well, that's where it gets difficult. See. I forgot to do this. So I had to buy some chicken thighs. This was OK with me since they're pretty cheap, and lets face it, I was going to have to buy more chicken sometime soon. So chicken thighs are obtained (and I still have a chicken in the freezer that I need to take out tonight).

So back to the chili program here. Note that I said green chicken chili, but if you look at the photo there isn't much green about it. Well, that wasn't for the lack of trying. And then giving up. But mostly not for the lack of trying. But, all being said and done, this was the best chili I've ever made. And now I will tell you why. Resting. Oh. And gelatin. Lots of gelatin from the thighs dissolving into the chili. The rest allowed the gelatin to thicken, so, I guess, if you were to press me on the one reason that this chili was awesome it would be gelatin, but like, hey, resting also had something to do with it.

I also took a very easy way out and did all the chopping of the veggies in the food processor which released a lot of liquid that subsequently reduced adding an intense fresh chili taste and a moderate amount of heat which worked out super well.

Pretty much the only thing wrong with pancakes is that you can rarely find them outside of breakfast and they're usually gussied up with fruits and stuff. Just the maple for me, ma'am.

God bless a country where we've taken a nominally religious holiday and mangled the name to the point where most of the country knows it as Pancake Tuesday rather than Shrove Tuesday (see also Macy's Day Parade c.f. Thanksgiving Day Parade). Of course, not many people even know what shrove (or it's present tense form shrive) mean. Shit, Firefox's built-in spelling dictionary hasn't heard of the word shrove. And just because I like to see red squiggly lines when I haven't actually made a mistake, take this: shrove shrove shrove shrove shrove shrove. Talk about a Thin Red Line.

Ah yes. But back to my point. Pancake (Shrove) Tuesday. What a better excuse for eating good pancakes (I'm watching you I.H.O.P. — I don't even LIKE foreign food) all day long than the prelude to a season of self-flagellation. Of course, a meal of just pancakes for dinner wouldn't necessarily suffice. There are nutrients to think of here people. So being that a) one of my New Years resolutions was to learn how to make more Chinese food at home (the best part about not actually making New Years resolutions is that you can make them up and forget them throughout the course of the year with much less regret than if you actually had pledged to the idea on January first) and b) Mark Bittman had written a column in honor of today on the making of quick scallion pancakes, I said "Self? Tonight we are making Chinese food. Better check with the missus to make sure that's kohser." (So many religions all tied up into one little post!)

I really should have Mike and his lovely wife over for dinner more often, not only so that she may actually take decent photos of my food, but, um, well, I mean they're great people. But, seriously, this photo? Atrocious.

Thankfully tofu, soy sauce, garlic, ginger and veggies are all on the "generally recognized as food for Julie" (GRASFJ) list, as are scallion pancakes. Now. My biggest reason for not really making Chinese food is the severe lack of significant burner output on my stove — it takes over an hour to boil 3 gallons of water, I'm surely not going to be generating the sort of BTU output that a wok would really deserve. But, thankfully, with the use of cast-iron skillets and a little bit of pre-heating, we can overcome some of these thermal obstacles. Luckily, on the other hand, most Chinese cooking does sort of fit into my overall paradigm. (Yeah, I just said paradigm. You got a problem with that? Don't make me give you a 10,000' view of the situation and force a deep dive into the relevant parts, OK?) This is saying that I like to have my entire mis-en-place (I know, the French invaded Indochina, not China, but bear with me here) set out before I turn on a single burner. Unless we're talking about rice or pasta. But, actually, in that case, everything is set out before hand. But, wait. Where was I? Oh. Chinese food. It's delicious.

This actually could have been a little hotter spice-wise and this photo could be much better.

I know Diane, it's been a very long time since I last posted, and even longer since I last posted about food. So I will spare you all the beer details (they'll come later) and give you something you can really "sink your teeth" into. (Or at least something I really did sink my teeth into.)

Julie was out of town (for, unfortunately, tragic reasons), but this did free me up to cook something that Julie wouldn't normally be into. For the two of us and how we like to eat, this usually means pork. Not just wanting a pork chop or roasted pork loin (not that there is anything wrong with those), but something a little lighter was in order due to the near Spring-like temperatures out there last week. Mark Bittman had just posted an article on making Ma Pa Tofu so I figured I'd try my hand at that.

Normally Ma Pa Tofu, in a restaurant, is boring fried ground pork with nice cubes of soft tofu surrounded by a horribly insipid, sweet, gloppy cornstarch-laden brown gravy, with none of the requisite heat or flavor you're really looking for. Thankfully his recipe dispensed with the cornstarch (although I did add some back in) and tells you to really go wild with the crushed red pepper, which I did. But I also added some Szechuan peppercorns to give it that numbing heat that I was really looking for.

I know it sort of looks like a chemistry lab. Oh wait. It sort of is a chemistry lab. That's a wort chiller. 212°F down to 75°F in 12 minutes. Some more copper would probably be even better.

So I was talking to Julie the other day and she was drinking a Harpoon Winter Warmer. Having tried a few spiced beers back in college I was pretty turned off by them so I haven't really gone back to them Alas I realize that my tastes have probably changed. So I gave it a shot. And it wasn't bad. Realizing that the spices are what makes Julie like it so much, I figured that I would brew a beer for her (especially since her birthday is coming up soon!)

Luckily I had just gotten a copy of the Brew Your Own magazine Clone Beer issue with a recipe for Harpoon Winter Warmer. Not being 100% sold on the concept of a spiced beer (it was good, but it wasn't the most amazing thing I've ever drank) I put the recipe into BeerSmith and then scaled down the recipe to a two gallon batch. This will make about 18 bottles of beer; a perfect batch size for something you're not 100% sure on. Also this would be perfect for testing out one of my two new three gallon carboys.

The recipe is pretty easy, especially for such a small batch:
10.6 oz light DME
27.2 oz light LME
12.8 Crystal 80
3.2 oz Dextrine malt
3.2 oz 2-Row Pale Malt
0.32 oz Cluster Hops (7.9% AA)
0.05 tsp Ground Nutmeg
0.10 tsp Ground Cinnamon
1 tsp Irish Moss
SafeAle English Ale Yeast (S-04)

Crush and soak the specialty grains in 2 gallons of 165°F water for 45 minutes. When done, remove the grains and let the sack drip dry. Add the DME and stir well to combine. Bring the wort to a boil and after the hot break add the hops. Boil for 45 minutes and add the Irish Moss and the LME. Boil for 15 more minutes and then cool down to 70-75°F. Spinkle the yeast over the wort and stir/shake well to combine. Ferment in the primary at least 7 days, or until the fermentation is complete. Add the spices to the secondary and rack the beer on top. Leave in the secondary for 14 days. Bottle with 4oz corn sugar and let sit another 2 weeks to carbonate.

O.G. on this batch was 1.052. It should have been a little higher; I don't think my grain soak was as efficient as it could have been.

You know, I'd be much better at taking photos if I ever remembered to take photos, which is rarely. Like this for example. Had many opportunities to take better photos of the racking process. When do I remember? When it's in the fricken fridge. Oh well.

So I racked* my Alt Bier (yes it's called Alt-ercation Amber) over to the secondary fermentation vessel; a 6 gallon better bottle. True, I'd be better to be in a 5 gallon (less room for air and therefore oxidation), but you work with what you've got. The gravity remained at 1.013, so the primary phase of activity is complete, now it's time to lager this for at least 2 weeks to drop a lot of the yeast out of suspension and let some of the flavors mature

* racking means you moved the liquid from one place to another. You don't actually want to pour it back and forth because this will introduce more oxygen to the beer which causes off flavors due to oxidation. So you actually take some tubing and what they call a "racking cane" (looks like a small plastic cane) and transfer the liquid that way, slowly and smoothly.

Of course the fridge is up at like 65°F right now, but I guess that's what you get when to introduce 5 gallons of a 72°F liquid to 8 cubic feet of 40°F air. Luckily there's nothing in there that is temperature sensitive. But this thing is gonna cycle all night long.

Tomorrow I'll be heading off to the brew supply store again and picking up a few more things so I can brew my IPA, Crisis and Hoppertunity.

Not pictured: beer.

Lets not call it a keggerator. That just sounds so "college," and let's face it folks, I'm way too old to still be in college. Keggerator brings up immediate images of some massive device with a 15.5 gallon metal container of swill and a plastic tap. No, good sirs and ladies, this is something entirely different. Well, not entirely, but, come on, you get the idea. See — it almost looks classy. Right? RIght.

It's a balmy temperature regulated 40°F in there. Lets go swimming!

If you look at that photo above (or even better yet, click through to the original on Flickr; it's annotated for your pleasure!), you'll see that it's not some massive monolithic keg that me and my "tite brahs" are gonna "totally cash" this weekend while watching "the game." No. Not at all. It's refined! Or so I keep telling Julie, who, by the way, is a total saint. No, this is a mere 10 gallon system consisting of two used (and cleaned) soda kegs (they're called cornys because a company called Cornelius made them). There's also room where I can lager beers.

My workshop also doubles as my office and a storage location for my beer making supplies. Also, a den of inequity. Didn't see that in there? Look closer. Honest.

Making this was actually rather easy, even for the mostly carpentry-disinclined as myself. Plus it meant I got to buy a jigsaw. I have yet to see it dance a jig though regardless of the number of times I mentioned Michael Flatly . It consists of four 1x4 boards screwed together to make a collar attached to the top of a 7.2 cf chest freezer. Yeah, just end-to-end. Mitre cuts are for people who either want to lose digits or have real saws and know geometry. I merely fake it. Then you unscrew the lid from the freezer and attach it to the collar. Then lay down a mess of silicon caulk and place the collar on top to seal it onto the freezer. Use more caulk to make it all airtight and lovely. Drill two 1" holes a few inches apart for the tap shanks, and then a 3/4" hole on the side to thread the temperature regulator probe through (which I stuffed with foam). Let it all dry 24 hours. And you're done.

Now I just need my beer to finish up!

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM

So I came home from Vermont last night to see an awesome sight. The airlock was full of gunk (foam) showing that I had a very vigorous fermentation while I was away. This is an awesome sign. Well, I mean, you don't really want gunk in your fermenter, but like, it's better than no activity what so ever. It was encouraging to not have any mess outside the airlock, meaning I didn't have much to clean up.

I figured this would be a good time to take a gravity reading as well to find out if there was gonna be more fermentation, or if this was starting to stabilize and be done after five days of action. I popped the lid and saw a glorious sight -- a massive krausen still on top. I sterilized the turkey baster and grabbed a sample. 1.0125 at 67 degrees (so 1.0133 corrected for temperature). Dead on. This is very promising! Sadly I dumped the sample before I remembered I should have tasted it. Oh well. I then cleaned out the airlock and sterilized it again, filled it with more vodka and set it back up. This'll sit for at least another five days and then I'll transfer it to my better bottle and lager it at 40° F for at least two weeks.

The good news comes from the math though! Well, good and bad news. The bad news is that apparently I have become absolutely HORRIBLE at doing math. The good news though is that the apparent attenuation of the yeast hit 76% which is dead center for the range on the Wyeast German Ale. (1.054 - 1.013 = 41; 41/54 = 76%). I'm also showing an approximate 5.1% ABV. All these data fit the North German Alt profile perfectly. It's gonna be a hard 3 weeks to wait!

My home kegging equipment came today, which is awesome (yay for no more bottling), but the bigger part was that the next set of ingredients came so I could make a North German Altbier (think Alaska Amber or Otter Creek Copper Ale). Sadly the camera is out of batteries and I can't find the charger right now so there are no photos of it, but here's the run down of the recipe (it's from Brew Your Own magazine; it's the homebrew version of Alaska Amber).

2 lbs 2 row barley
.5 lbs Crystal 20°L
.5 lbs Crystal 40°L
5 lbs Pale dried malt extract (DME)
.75 ounces 5.4% Cascade hops (pellets) for 4 AAU @ 60 minutes
.70 ounces 5.8% Saaz hops (pellets) for 4 AAU @ 15 minutes
1 tsp Irish Moss @ 15 minutes (seaweed for clarity)
Wyeast German Ale activator pack

Started off doing the grain soak in a bag in 2.5 gallons of 150°F water for 45 minutes, added the DME and brought to a boil. Quick boil over resolved, let the hot break occur and checked my boil gravity (1.065 — high only because it's a partial boil) and added the Cascade hops. 45 minutes later threw in the Saaz and the Irish Moss. When the boil was over, used an ice bath to get down to 80°F in 10 minutes, then added 3 gallons of cold tap water to it in the fermentation bucket to bring the temp down to 61°F. Pitched the yeast, aerated and threw on the airlock.

Boil Gravity: 1.070-ish (at 212 degrees hence the inaccuracy, I forgot to take it before it boiled)
Original Gravity: 1.055 (at 60 degrees)

I'll leave this to ferment in the primary fermentation bucket for at least 10 days in the high 60°F range at which point it'll hopefully have hit a Final Gravity of 1.015 (which means around 4-4.5% alcohol by volume), and then move it to my secondary (a new Better Bottle which arrived today) for a good 2-3 weeks at 40° followed by kegging and drinking!

(Although the calculations show that my IBU (international bitterness units) will be a little lower than desired. 4 AAU of Cascade at 60 minutes in 1.070 gives me about 11.58 IBU (4 aau * 0.193 (utilization) * 75 (metric conversion) / 5 (gallons of water)) and 4 AAU of Saaz at 15 minutes gives about 5.75 IBU for a total of 17 1/3 IBU, where we're looking for about 20.)