Do you know what food makes more vegetarians fall off the produce wagon than any other?

It’s bacon.

Yeah, I can see that.

Bacon is the crack of the meat world.  Everything about it is enticing.  The magical aroma fills your house and makes you feel like you’re a ten-year-old, and Mom is cooking a big Saturday breakfast.  It’s pretty to look at; uncooked, there is beauty in potential.  Cooked, you can almost taste those gorgeous, color-coordinated stripes.

And then there’s the flavor.  American bacon has a smoky, salty flavor that goes well with anything from sandwiches to cupcakes.  Italian pancetta which is not smoked, but spiked with herbs, peppercorns, and juniper berries has a porky, slightly astringent quality.

Both bacon and pancetta are cured meats.  Originally, before refrigeration, this was done to preserve the meat.  But they taste so darn good, now it’s done for fun.

Although its popularity in restaurants has recently soared, most home cooks have never cooked with bacon’s pristine patriarch; pork belly.  The belly of the beast can be hard to find, but well worth the chase.  My most reliable source for beautiful belly is from Fickle Creek farm, at the Durham farmers market (501 Foster St).

The degree of difficulty doesn’t stop there.  Pork belly is not a grilled cheese or a minute steak.  Love, time, and care must be lavished upon it.  But done well, it results in an unctuous meat whose flavor and texture are totally delicious, and totally unique.

My recipe is original, but some of the technique comes from Chef Emeril Lagasse.  It’s a three-day procedure, but don’t let that scare you.  The hardest thing is mixing up the marinade.  Mainly it’s just time to cook slowly, develop flavor, and become tender.

The marinade uses Coke (not diet) as a base.  Cola may sound simplistic, but it’s actually a very complex concoction.  There is sweet, acid, bitterness, spices, and flavorings.  I promise, this is the best use of a can of coke ever, and this is coming from somebody who loves an ice-cold green glass bottle.

Pork belly

1 ½ pounds pork belly, frozen

Whisk together:

1 can coke

1 tablespoon mushroom soy

1 tablespoon Dijon mustard

1 teaspoon dry thyme

1 teaspoon Chinese 5 spice powder

4 cloves garlic, crushed and sliced

1 bay leaf

Score fat side of belly in a diamond pattern and put it and marinade in zip top bag.  Refrigerate for 24-48 hours.

Cooking:

2 cups chicken stock

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.  Place belly fat side down into Pyrex dish in which the meat fits.  Pour in marinade, and chicken stock.

Bake for 1 hour.

Turn meat to fat side up and bake for 2 hours more.

While it’s baking, add water if too much liquid cooks out.  You want it at least 3/4 the way up the meat.

Remove from oven and skim off as much fat as you can.  Let cool for about 45 minutes, then cover and refrigerate.

The final Cook:

1 ½ cups chicken stock

4 cups micro-greens or pea shoots

The next day preheat oven to 400 degrees, and remove belly from fridge.  Uncover, and remove any fat that has hardened overnight.

Bake for 25 minutes and remove from oven.

Place on cutting board, and slice into ½ inch slices.  Heat non-stick skillet, and lay slices into pan.  Add about ½ cup cooking liquid and cook on medium until the juice has cooked out.

Flip slices and add another ½ cup of liquid.  Cook until the pan is dry then remove.

To plate, Line up 3 or 4 slices, and top with a handful of greens.

Serves four.

You can throw a steak on the grill, and a potato into the oven to bake any time.  But cooking a pork belly for your friends or family really says, “I love you, and want to treat you extra special”.

In fact, The Kid’s birthday is coming up, and I can’t think of a better meal to make to celebrate it.

Unless that nutty child of mine would rather have Dog House.

Thanks for your time.

Step right up, folks.

This week I have a dish that is all things to all people.  It’s a salad.  It’s a side dish.  It can be a dip or spread.  It’s a rice or pasta dish.  Turn it into a casserole or soup.  Use it as a stuffing, for any number of foods in need of filling.  Put it in a wrap.  It’s even a relish.

And to add to this awesome wonderfulness, you can make up a batch that will feed six in less than 20 minutes, for less than $4.00.  With stuff that many people already have on hand.

Good grief, Charlie Brown.  Can it really be true?

You betcha, Chuck.

When I decided on this column, I got to thinking about different ways it could be used.  The only way that I can’t recommend is dessert.

At its most basic, it’s a salad/veggie side dish.

Spinach chickpea salad

16 ounce bag frozen spinach, thawed and squeezed almost dry

1-15.5 ounce can chickpeas, drained

3 cloves garlic

1 yellow onion, sliced into half moons

2 tablespoons olive oil

1-2 teaspoons ground cumin

1-2 teaspoons salt

3/4 teaspoon pepper

Juice of two lemons

Heat the olive oil in a non-stick skillet. Give the garlic cloves a light smash then throw them in and let them turn light golden.  Remove cloves and discard.  Sautee onions until they turn golden.  Remove and set aside.

Put chickpeas into pan and season with half the salt and pepper and 1/2 teaspoon cumin. Taste, and add more cumin if desired.

When the chickpeas have browned a bit, add back the onions and spinach.  Season with more salt and pepper, holding back some until the final tasting.  Stir in another ½ teaspoon cumin.

When the spinach is hot add the lemon juice.  Cook for 3-5 more minutes until heated through and well combined.  Because of the acid in the lemon juice, the color of the spinach will deepen from bright to forest green.  Taste and re-season, if necessary.

Serve hot or cold.  Serves 6.

If you were mix in a block of softened cream cheese, some mayo, yogurt or sour cream, and maybe a handful of shredded something or other, you’ve got a dip or spread you can serve either hot or right out of the fridge.

When it’s still warm, stir in some cooked rice.  Or pour in some freshly cooked pasta, along with some of the cooking water.

For a yummy soup, heat a pot of chicken stock.  Stir in the meat of a grocery store roasted chicken and some cooked orzo.  Add your spinach/chick peas.  After you put it in a bowl, sprinkle on some croutons or a handful of those canned onion ring thingys.

For a cannelloni filling, mix in some ricotta cheese, and if you want to go for it, some crumbled Italian sausage.  Stuff the shells and cover with either some marinara or cream sauce (or both).  Then sprinkle on some mozzarella or provolone, and bake it for 30 minutes or so at 350, covered, and then uncover and put under the broiler ’til it’s browned and bubbly.

Mix in some bread crumbs and Parmesan cheese, and use it to stuff pork chops or chicken breasts.

I love edible Swiss army knives.  The mushroom ragout I talked about weeks ago is in the same vein.

But this spinach dish is so darn versatile that it’s the $200 Swiss Champ army knife, with Byzantine-like complexity and 101 different tools.

Thanks for your time.

My good friend Paxton, and his partner Alex are engaged.  It’s awesome, they’ve been together for years, and deserve the right to wed.

While this is great news, there is a bigger, much more exciting story.

I’m going to be the flower girl!

I was eight when my brother Homer got married, and they said I was too old.  So no dice.  Paxton, on the other hand, realizes that while my body is the approximate age of the cotton gin, my mind is firmly in preschool.

Their engagement party was a potluck.  We brought a bottle of Honeygirl hibiscus mead, some beer from Raleigh Brewing, and the betrothed ones requested I make them a lemon/raspberry cake.

I decided I would modify an Ina Garten lemon loaf cake, raspberry up my mom’s famous frosting, and spoon some lemon curd on top (store-bought).

The cake and frosting are both pretty easy.

Vanilla bean lemon pound cake

Ingredients

1/2 pound (2 sticks) butter, softened

1 vanilla bean, scraped

2 1/2 cups granulated sugar, divided

5 large eggs, room temperature

1/3 cup grated lemon zest (6 to 8 large lemons)

3 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon kosher salt

3/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice, divided

3/4 cup buttermilk, room temperature

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 9-inch cake pans. Line bottoms with parchment paper (then grease and flour the parchment).

Cream butter, vanilla bean caviar, and 2 cups sugar in the bowl of an electric mixer, until light and fluffy. Add the eggs, one at a time, and the lemon zest.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a bowl. In another bowl, combine 1/4 cup lemon juice and the buttermilk. Add flour and buttermilk mixtures alternately to the batter, beginning and ending with the flour. Divide the batter evenly between the pans (about 3 cups per pan), smooth the tops, and bake for 30 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean.

Combine 1/2 cup granulated sugar with 1/2 cup lemon juice in a small saucepan and cook over low heat until the sugar dissolves. When the cakes have cooled for 10 minutes remove from the pans and set them on a rack over a tray or sheet pan; brush the lemon syrup all over cakes and on both sides. Allow the cakes to cool completely before assembling and frosting.

I used about 2 & 2/3 batches of icing for the whole project.  You can make two batches at once, but three boxes of powdered sugar in your mixer will turn your kitchen into the final scene from ‘Scarface’.

Mom’s raspberried frosting

1 box powdered sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 scant teaspoon cream of tartar

1/3 cup butter-flavor Crisco

1 egg white

1 tablespoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice

1/3 cup seedless raspberry jam

Water, for thinning

Dump all ingredients into standing mixer. Beat at low until it starts to come together.  Turn it up and add enough water to make it creamy and spreadable.

Assembly:

Raspberries

1 1 /2 cups lemon curd

Cut each layer in half.  Frost each layer, ending with a bottom, with its nice straight sides serving as the top.  Generously frost the rest of the cake.

Pipe stars around the bottom.  On the top, first place berries evenly around the cake, leaving room for one star between each berry.  Spread curd on top, using the berries and stars as a barrier to keep the curd in place. 

Let cake and frosting set at least 8-12 hours before cutting.  Serves 12.

I love these guys and am so happy for them.  And at the wedding, I promise that I won’t wet my pants, pout, or have a tantrum and refuse to walk down the aisle.

Conversely, I can’t promise I won’t break a hip, forget what I’m there for and wander away.

I wonder what my dress will look like.

I’m honored and excited to be their flower girl; unless of course, they come to their senses and pick someone who wasn’t alive when monkeys went into space.  Or I wake up and chicken out.

Thanks for your time.

Some weeks I’m convinced that I’ll never come up with another idea for a column again.  I sink into deep despair and decide that instead of a food writer, I’ll become a goldfish pet sitter or maybe a telemarketer.

But this week, I knew crazy early what my subject would be—carrots.

Then I told Petey.  Yeah, big mistake.

“Didn’t you just do carrots?  Should you really do them again?  Why don’t you do something else?”

Thanks, Captain Buzzkill.  Yes, I did do carrots back in February, but that was steamed and glazed grown-ups.  This is roasted baby carrots.  Big difference.

Although he’s an awesome guy, he never has to worry about what’s for dinner.  Petey cheerfully eats whatever I put in front of him.  He’s never skulked around the kitchen wondering if it would make him a bad person to actually serve cotton candy and gin for supper, because he’s entirely out of ideas.  Some nights I’d happily trade my pancreas and my secret stash of Kit Kats for some inspiration.

And because I’m aware that I’m not the sole occupant on that iceberg of indecision, this week I’m offering a different version of carrots.

I really like my glazed carrots, but after picking up some beautiful rainbow babies at the farmers market I wanted something new.  My desire was to do minimal fussing, and try to really bring out their carrot-ness.  They were roasted simply, then rolled in a light, herby sauce.

Here’s the deal about bagged baby carrots.  You may remember my warnings against those chemical-laden faux-baby abominations.  Really, just leave them in the grocery store.  Except for this one exception: organic, rainbow, pre-packaged babies.  I picked up a bag at the co-op in Durham; they were the real thing, and cooked up well.

But the best baby carrots don’t come cleaned, peeled, and size-matched.  They’re in a bunch with the tops still attached.  Take them home and trim the tops to half an inch.  Snip off the hairy ends.  Using a vegetable peeler not a paring knife, carefully, gently scrape off the skins.  You don’t want to shave them into nothingness, but the eating experience is better with the outer layer removed.

Roasted baby carrots

1 pound baby carrots, washed and peeled

1 tablespoon vegetable or grape seed oil

3/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1/8 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg

2 tablespoons butter

1 tablespoon grainy mustard

2-3 teaspoons fresh thyme, chopped

1 teaspoon fresh rosemary, minced

Preheat oven to 400.

Place carrots in 9X13 glass dish along with oil, salt, pepper, and nutmeg.  Mix to coat.

Roast for 30-40 minutes or until tender. Remove from oven.

Melt butter in a skillet and whisk in mustard and herbs.  Take off heat, then add carrots, and roll in the sauce until coated.  Taste for seasoning. 

Serves 4.

Please don’t get me wrong.  My Petey is the most supportive of husbands.  During thirty-two years of marriage, he’s been very encouraging of every whim, no matter whether it was my short-lived bartending career, the decision to shave one side of my head and dye the other side fire engine red or any myriad of loony notions I’ve had through the years.

Petey might not have been very enthusiastic about the topic for this week’s column.  But when I set that plate in front of him he ate up those carrots with plenty of gusto.

Thanks for your time.

As far as I’m concerned, there should have been, at the very least, fireworks and a parade.

It deserved live news coverage, with dramatic theme music and a catchy media title, like “Farm Watch Frenzy”.

Last week, the Durham farmer’s market (Durham Central market, 501 Foster St) had their inaugural 2015 Wednesday afternoon market.  It’s Christmas for gluttons and food folk.

There are three reasons why I love the Wednesday market so much:

1.)It starts at a reasonable hour.  I am neither chicken nor farmer, so to be awake and functioning in the early AM is punishment to me, and anyone unlucky enough to be around me.

2.)It’s smaller and quieter.  No giant crowds, so there’s room to move, and time to speak with vendors for advice and instruction.

3.)The mid-week market gives the farmer another day to present and sell products.

This year the DFM is accepting SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program).  In partnership with the Rural Advancement Foundation International, the market will match customer’s benefit up to $10, to help stretch the allowance.  To learn more, or donate, go to the farmer’s market website (http://www.durhamfarmersmarket.com), or RAFI’s website (http://rafiusa.org/).

So, back to my excellent adventure.

If the weather reflected the wondrous nature of the day, it would have been classic Disney, chockfull of cartoon bluebirds and bunnies, with a cerulean sky that literally sparkled like diamonds.

Instead it was gloomy, rainy, and cold.  But it was farmer’s market Wednesday, so unless I was forced to literally dodge tornados, I didn’t mind.

The market starts at precisely 3:30PM, with the ringing of what looks like a cowbell for Babe, the big blue ox.  Before that you can window-shop, and make a battle plan.  I was looking for baby carrots, some greens, and for my herb garden, a chive plant.

I wandered around and spoke with some of the vendors.  I asked a really hunky farmer boy about green garlic, which I’ve never used before (really; it was all about the garlic, I swear).  I tasted some pea shoots and talked to their producer.  Then I spoke to one of my favorite vendors; Ben Bergmann, of Fickle Creek Farm (4122 Buckhorn Rd, Efland).  Fickle Creek, which is also a B&B, used to make the best hot dogs I’ve ever eaten.  He had another item though, that caught my eye and set my imagination racing—pork belly.

Pork belly is the cut used to make bacon, but left unprocessed and unsmoked.  Belly is normally pretty hard to find, but has been showing up in restaurants and occasionally on the hot bar at Whole Foods.  It’s rich, unctuous, and delicious.

When I cook it, I will write all about it, and share the experience.

Finally, the bell rang; I slung my canvas market bag over my shoulder and got to work.

From Two Chicks Farm, a jar of pickled beets.  They’re beautiful, bright, and acidic.  From another farm I picked up the chive plant and a ripe, pink tomato. Tomato sandwiches on the baguette I bought from Scratch are in my future.  I also got one of the last bunches of winter baby carrots.

Using intense self-control, I picked just one piece of cheese from the Chapel Hill Creamery (615 Chapel Hill Creamery Rd, Chapel Hill).  It was Hickory Grove which will soon be utilized on patty melts.

For Wednesday night’s supper I treated myself to an egg sandwich (with a side of pickled beets).

Farmers Market egg sammich

Split a piece of baguette, and spread mayonnaise on one side.  Cover the other side with half an avocado, mashed and mixed with salt, pepper, and lemon juice.

Scramble 2 eggs, leaving them very moist.  Spoon onto avocado.  Put a handful of pea shoots on top of the eggs, close the sandwich, and enjoy.

I picked ingredients for a few meals, but not so much that it would spoil before we ate it.  I was dancing right on that line, though.

I couldn’t get items from every vendor, but I’ve got plans for my next visit.  I’m going to visit Elodie Farms, and , Honeygirl Meadery and Loaf, and Waterdog Farms, and…

Thanks for your time.

It’s common wisdom that a dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.  The reason is that you must struggle to get the blade through.  When that takes place, accidents can happen.  As a savant level klutz, I can speak to cuts.  It looks like I’ve had scarification tattoos from a particularly incompetent artist.

But let me clue ya.

A very sharp knife can cut you so fast and so cleanly that you don’t even know you’ve been sliced for hours.

Sur La Table (stores in Raleigh, Durham, and Greensboro), has a knife sharpening service.  I went, but was a little nervous, because some people who sharpen tools are aggressive and will take a blade from dull, to sharp, to stump.

But my prized possessions were in awful shape.  Whenever The Kid used one, I could hear my culinarily-trained child muttering “Holy frack, these knives are ding-dong-dull.”

So I took a leap of faith and dropped them off.  I took my paring knife, de-boner, Santoku, chef’s knife, and meat slicer.   In about two hours, I picked them up.

Those puppies had become scary sharp.  Within a week, I’d cut myself three times, with no more effort on my part than accidentally touching a blade.  I always hand-wash my knives, and they sliced my poor kitchen sponge to ribbons.  It was like sharing my kitchen with swashbuckler Douglas Fairbanks Jr.

But I don’t think I could have made the dinner I did tonight with a dull blade.

I made a potato dish that is traditionally called “Hasselbeck potatoes”.  They’re roasted potatoes that are cut like an accordion almost, but not all the way through.  As they bake, they fan out a bit.

I flavored these spuds to compliment the rest of our dinner.  But you can change it up to your taste and mood.  Just remove the 5-spice and mustard, and replace with something more to your liking.

No hassle baked potatoes

8 medium-large red skin potatoes, washed and dried

1/4 cup olive oil + 1 tablespoon

1/2 teaspoon Chinese 5-spice

1-2 tablespoons Dijon mustard

1 tablespoon flour

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

Water to thin sauce

 

Place potatoes on a large serving spoon.  Slice down using the spoon to keep from cutting all the way through.  Make parallel cuts 1/4 inch apart.

Whisk up the rest of the ingredients, adding enough water to make it the thickness of heavy cream.

Using gloves, and one at a time, place potatoes in sauce, and rub them it over them. Then, very carefully, spread open slices and rub a little sauce into each cut.

Pour a tablespoon of olive oil into baking dish.  Place in coated potatoes.  Brush any remaining sauce over the potatoes, carefully getting into cuts.  If desired, lightly dust with smoked paprika. 

Bake for one hour.  Serves 4.

 

I was pretty nervous about cutting the spuds.  I had 10 pounds on hand, and I figured I’d go through a large majority of them before I got enough cut correctly just for Petey and me.

Well the combo of the sharp knife and using the spoon as training wheels worked like a charm.  I used four potatoes to get four successfully sliced potatoes.

So I think the moral to this story is to close your eyes, hold your nose, and jump in.  As long as you know how to swim, or you have a very sharp knife.

Thanks for your time.

I love Big Lots and I cannot lie.

It’s kind of like Costco.  When we started shopping at that giant warehouse store Petey and I had a terrible time making it out without spending the equivalent of the GDP.  I’d walk those aisles grabbing products right and left.

“How did I ever live without owning an electric letter opener?  OMG, we absolutely need 336 cans of emergency dehydrated food!  Of course we’ll eat 40 pounds of pickled bamboo shoots.”

But through Herculean effort, and ruthless organization, we shop with a list and rarely deviate from it.  Now we can sometimes get out to the parking lot for less than $50.

At Big Lots (2000 Avondale Drive, Durham Plaza Shopping Center), the same thing happens.  But the quantities are much smaller, and the prices are pretty low.   That means I can go a little nuts there, and not get into fiscal trouble.

Usually they have an endcap chock-full of Bob’s Red Mill products.  Bob’s is a mill out of Oregon.  They have all kinds of organic and non-organic grains and flours.   I’m a big fan of their steel-cut oats and a brown/wild rice blend they make.  They do small batches using traditional milling techniques.  Bob’s the man; on his 81^st birthday he gifted his entire company over to the employees.

Last time we were in Big Lots I found a Bob item I’d not seen before—Khorasan kamut; an ancient Egyptian wheat berry.  Cultivated in 6000 BC, it was only recently rediscovered.  Because the origins are so murky and mysterious, it is known as both the “Prophet’s Grain”, because legend says it was on Noah’s Ark, and “King Tut’s wheat” because it was supposedly found in his tomb.

It is eaten both as a hot cereal, and a savory grain.  I decided to go savory the first time out.  I’m always on the lookout for new carbs for meals.  And besides, I never met a hot cereal I didn’t love.

So I decided to bake it in a cheesy mushroom sauce, then serve it along with asparagus and a pork tenderloin.  Kamut is chewy and nutty with a deep, rich flavor; reminiscent of farro.

Baked cheesy Kamut

1 cup raw kamut

1 bay leaf

3 cups water

Kamut berries needs to be soaked overnight (if not, cooking time doubles).  Put grains in a large bowl with the bay leaf.  Fill with warm water, and let it sit overnight.  You can cook it and assemble the dish hours before eating.  Just refrigerate and bake off right before service.

To cook: Boil 3 cups water on medium-high, and add a pinch of salt.  Add kamut to water lower to medium-low, and cover.  Cook 30-40 minutes or until plumped and tender.  Drain excess liquid.  Makes 3 cups.

Cheese sauce:

1 chopped shallot

1/3 cup dried mushrooms, rehydrated by boiling in salted water 5 minutes, drained, then chopped

1 tablespoon fresh or 1 teaspoon dried thyme

¼ cup butter

¼ cup flour

½ teaspoon dry mustard

3/4 skim whole milk

¼ cup whole milk

1 ¼ cup shredded manchego, divided

Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Grease casserole dish, set aside.  Melt butter in heavy pot.  Sautee mushrooms and shallots until lightly browned.  Stir in flour, mustard and thyme.  Cook 2-3 minutes on medium-low.  Turn up to medium, whisk in milk and cook until it just begins to bubble.  Slowly add 3/4 cup cheese, letting each addition melt before adding more.  Season.  Stir kamut into sauce, and pour into casserole dish.  Sprinkle with the rest of the cheese right before putting into the oven.  Bake for 35-45 minutes or until top is lightly browned and crisped.

Serves 4.

Next time I’ll make it as hot cereal.  I’ll add some dried fruit and nuts, and drizzle on some maple syrup.  It would make a nice salad too, I think, with some fresh spring veg, and a lemony dressing.I love Costco, but I fear its power over me, as well.

I love Costco, but I fear its power over me, as well.

If they ever start carrying Bob’s Red Mill I am in so much trouble.

Thanks for your time.

I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on this.

It’s embarrassing to admit, but I don’t hate it when a fuss is made over me.  When I was 5 or 6, I went as a guest to my friend’s Sunday school.  I got a prize for being a visitor.  Then the teacher announced another gift for children celebrating a birthday.

It surprises me to this day, but my hand shot up and I informed the class that yes indeed, it was my birthday.  Cue the hullabaloo.

It was nowhere near my birthday.  I’m still ashamed of it.

Earlier this week I celebrated my legitimate birthday.  I won’t reveal my age, but I will admit that Louisa May Alcott and I were in the brownies together.

It doesn’t matter if I’m 180, when my birthday rolls around I turn into a six-year-old.  I firmly believe that the celebration should last at least a week, and come with special meals, cake, and gifts.  Lots of gifts.

Every year more and more companies with which I do business give me a present on my big day.  And it’s not because I’m special, if you register with them, then you too, can get in on it.

Waffle House is one of my favorites.  Many a birthday dinner has been devoured in one of their booths.  I registered online, and every year receive a certificate for a yummy waffle.  I pay for my own scattered, smothered, covered hash browns.

Krispy Kreme is a gift to humanity.  A warm honey-glazed is a fried miracle.  After signing up, I get a free fresh, birthday donut and a drink.  God bless America and Krispy Kreme.

My favorite take-out for the rare occasion when I don’t feel like cooking dinner is Panera Bread.  On my birthday I get a free pastry (I usually go for their M&M cookie or orange scone).

Gigi’s is a cupcake store.  Not only do they have the best vanilla/vanilla cupcake I’ve ever had (called the wedding cake), they have a rotating menu of flavors like chocolate salted caramel, orange dreamsicle, and Scarlett’s red velvet.  Pay them a visit, pick up a cupcake lover’s reward card, and get a free full-size cupcake of your choice on your big day.

Carrying a concealed sweet tooth?  Applebees, TGI Friday’s, Boston Market, and Longhorn Steakhouse offer free dessert, and Arby’s give away a free milkshake with any purchase.  Baskin Robbins, Dairy Queen, Dippin’ Dots, Maggie Moo’s, Marble Slab, and Ben & Jerry’s?  Just free ice cream.  TCBY gives you free yogurt and $3 off the price of a cake.

It’s possible to eat yourself into a coma on your big day.  Bruegger’s offers a free bagel with cream cheese with a drink purchase.  Moe’s Southwest will feed you a free entrée and chips and salsa.  IHOP gives you dinner.  Registering with Zaxby’s scores a free nibbler and free meal deal.  Wingstop; free fries, Which Wich; free sandwich, Ruby Tuesdays and Red Robin will each give you a birthday burger.

To register, visit the stores, their websites or Facebook pages.

The final item isn’t a freebie, but I can’t celebrate my birthday without it.  Dewey’s in Winston-Salem has been in business for 85 years.  They make the best birthday cake in the world (I get mine with extra frosting).  My happiest moment each year is my first bite into the first slice.

My saddest?  The last bite of the last slice.

Thanks for your time.

To me, the way to tell if something is anything is that it sticks with you.

A week after seeing a movie, do you find yourself thinking about it?  When you’re standing in line at the gas station are you wondering how the heroine in your book will extract herself from the seemingly inextricable predicament?

In 1987 I saw a film called Angel Heart.  Starring Mickey Rourke and Lisa Bonet, it almost literally scared the crap out of me (almost, I said).  We saw it at the old South Square mall.  Because Petey met me there, we each had our own car.  Driving home by myself was absolute torture.  I was so frightened I could barely breathe.

Almost 30 years later I still think about that darn movie.  It still makes me shiver.  I’ve seen scary movies, but I’ve never seen a film that has gotten under my skin the way this one did.

The best television series that’s ever been on is called “Homicide, Life on the Street”.  It’s a cop show set in Baltimore which ran from 1993-1999.  I haven’t seen an episode in a few years but I still think about it.  I can tell you all the characters names, and even the names of some of the victims.  In my opinion, Robin Williams did his very best work as a guest star on it.

I recently read about a game called Four Foods of the Apocalypse.  And not only can I not stop thinking about it, even Petey, who could in no way be called a foodie, got a little caught up in it.

The rules are simple.  The world has turned upside down.  You luckily survived it, and are living in your own home.  You have a magic refrigerator, which contains an unlimited supply of salt, pepper, oil, flour, and sugar.  Your task is to pick four other foods to eat for the rest of your life.  They must be simple ingredients, not composed foods—cheese, not cheeseburgers, cabbage, not cole slaw.

I have three of the four set—I think.

Eggs.  I absolutely love scrambled eggs.  Also, they are one of the most versatile foods on the planet.  They’re in anything from pasta to cookies, frittatas to mayonnaise.

Lemons.  With no spices or herbs, lemon would be my only flavoring agent.  I could use juice, zest, and using the salt, make preserved lemons.  Besides, you can’t make mayo without lemon.

Ghirardelli milk chocolate chips.  Because, chocolate.  Also, it’s already the Apocalypse, I certainly don’t want to make things worse by going around killing people because I’m Jonesing for a candy bar.  Chips are extremely versatile, and Ghirardelli make the best.  It’s odd, though.  Not one chef on the list picked chocolate—even the females.

This is where it gets muddy.  I’ve got a few ideas, but I can’t seem to settle on one thing.

Potatoes.  Mashed, hash browns, home fries, and potato salad.  Baked potatoes to keep my hands warm, Little House on the Prairie-style, then eaten.  Almost as versatile as eggs, I could eat them every day for a month, and never the same way twice.

Bacon.  It’s almost worth it, just for bacon and eggs alone.  But then you get all that glorious bacon fat.  It also brings all kind of flavor to the party.  Who amongst us isn’t happy biting into a perfectly crispy slice?

Spinach.  Something nice and green for the end of the world.  It can be eaten both cooked and raw.  Dried I could add it to pasta dough.  Plus, it’s just pretty to look at.

Tomatoes.  With flour and water, I could make sourdough starter; thus I could have bread.  With eggs, oil, and lemon I can make mayonnaise.  I’ve got salt and pepper on hand.  Two words—tomato sandwich.  I think that it is the one thing that might make me forget I’m living in Mad Max times.

So it’s not just the fact that I’ve got air conditioning, libraries, and toilet paper.  Being made to choose only four foods to eat ‘til the end of time would make me terribly cranky.

This game not only makes me think, it also makes me grateful for what I’ve got.

Thanks for your time.

Alton Brown is my hero.

He’s the only TV food guy who not only shows me “how”, but teaches me “why”.  He explores the science of cooking; but in a way that doesn’t put me to sleep, or make me feel dumb.  I can’t emphasize enough how very much I respect his knowledge—If Alton says it, it must be so.

So when he suggested I get to know lentils, that’s just what I did.  Lentils are tasty, nutritious, and unlike other dried beans, can be prepared start to finish in less than an hour.

I picked up a bag at Harris Teeter for $2.29, and set to work.  What I came up with turned out pretty tasty.

Stove-top lentil and wild rice pilaf

Lentils:

1 cup uncooked lentils

2 cups chicken stock

1 bay leaf

2 large garlic cloves, peeled and lightly crushed

Put everything into heavy saucepan and bring to boil.  Reduce to medium-low and simmer, uncovered for 20-30 minutes or until tender. If while cooking, the liquid level drops, add a bit more water.

Strain, reserving cooking liquid.

Add 1/2 teaspoon salt and a drizzle of olive oil to cooked lentils.  Set aside.

Wild Rice:

3/4 cup uncooked wild rice

1 teaspoon salt

Reserved lentil cooking liquid, with bay and garlic

Extra water

Put rice, liquid, and salt into same saucepan used for lentils.  Add water to bring level 1 1/2 inches above rice.

Bring to boil, reduce to simmer.  Cover and cook 45-60 minutes, or until tender, but not mushy.

Drain and fold into lentils.  Set aside.

White rice:

1/3 cup dried mushrooms

1 bay leaf

1/2 yellow onion, chopped

3/4 cup uncooked white rice

1 teaspoon duck fat, bacon fat, or butter

1 teaspoon olive oil

1/2 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1/2 cup white wine

1 cup liquid from mushrooms, or another stock of your choice

Put mushrooms into saucepan with about 3 cups water, bay leaf, and big pinch of salt.  Bring to boil, turn down, and let boil 5 minutes.  Drain, using a fine mesh sieve to stop any dirt from going into mushroom stock.  Reserve the stock and bay for cooking rice.

Heat skillet and add duck fat and oil.  Add onions and mushrooms, season with salt, pepper, thyme and rosemary.

Sauté until all the liquid from the veggies has released and cooked off, onions are golden, and mushrooms are browned.

Add rice and sauté until it just starts to brown and smells a little nutty.

Deglaze pan with wine, and let totally evaporate.

Pour in stock (with bay leaf) and bring to boil. Lower to medium-low, cover and cook until liquid’s cooked in (15-25 minutes).  At that point, uncover and cover with the lentils and wild rice.

Recover and let sit for 10 minutes.

To finish:

3/4 cup grated dry cheese, like Parmesan or Manchego

1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley

Drizzle of extra virgin olive oil

Fold into rice and serve.  Serves 6-8, depending on whether it’s eaten as a side or main dish.

They say that you shouldn’t meet your heroes.  It’s probably best that I don’t meet Alton.  Because I have a feeling that if I did, I’d turn into a big, fat stammering, stalker-y mess.  And I’d like his autograph, but not on a restraining order.

Thanks for your time.