othersomethings.com

This is an onion. Your every day run of the mill large sweet videlia onion. A good 3 1/2″ to 4″ onion. We will name it “average big onion.”

And then along comes this guy. We will call him “Andre The Giant Onion.” I left “Average Onion” in the pic so you could have perspective.

I have been thinking long and hard about how this onion should be used. I LOOOOOVE onion. A sweet onion in any form is a welcome addition to….anything but ice cream, probably.

Should we slice it? Should we dice it? Should we eat it raw in a salad? Should we let it simmer in butter until it delivers it’s golden sweet caramely goodness?

There are too many options. And this onion of greatness deserves a meal of greatness.

I actually emailed The Pioneer Woman, asking her what she would do with an onion like this. No response. Maybe I should have tweeted her instead? Anyway, all that to say…I’m open to suggestions.  Leave your detailed and loving suggestions in the comments. If you inspire a new dish, i’ll name it after you. Or at least name the onion after you. “Andre” is a little impersonal.

A few days after Christmas, Shannon and I packed up the van and headed north. With us we brought Kelly, Peter, Ruth Ann, Elin, Myja and friend Robin.

Sunday night we arrived, and I made spaghetti for dinner. Apprently it was good because we had no leftovers. Oh. And everyone effusively said so.

Monday night I made roast beef, and apparently it was good, because…lack of leftovers. Oh, and they effusively said so.

Tonight, we had a baked potato bar. There are a few potatos left, but the toppings are all gone. And Ruth told me “you were right…broccoli does taste good on baked potatos.”

Let’s see if I can keep the running streak. Good to know my cooking tasty food in large quantities skill hasn’t diminished.

Actual conversation:

Me: leave the oven on, I’m going to put a pie in.

Shannon: what kind?

Me: pumpkin.

Shannon: oh, well you should make a “cleaning the kitchen” pie.

Me: how about a “shut the heck up pie?”

Shannon: that one is about as likely as mine. Besides, they’d both have to be imported.

On a side note, did you know that the U.S. Is in a pumpkin shortage? I didn’t. Until today. When I tried to buy some, and found signs telling me so.

My sister-in-law Lily came to town. Spent a few days with us. Cuddling with Ella, seeing a sight or two, and of course the main purpose of all human get-togethers…eating. We made some food. Some stellar, some ‘meh. But mostly stellar.

Case in point, she was telling me about an eclair recipe she’d made. I said “oh, we should make those!” thinking yes, throw that out there and see what comes back. It took her about 10 seconds to realize she really did want to make them. And so we did.

The puff pastry itself was surprisingly easy. Just a few ingredients.

Filling them with a vanilla pudding/whipped cream(the real stuff) mixture.

a chocolate frosting/glaze that will probably get added to the top of my food chain. It was epic.

Well hello there my friends, I can’t wait to get to know you better!

And get to know them we did. Over coffee, for breakfast, for lunch, for dessert, and just for the heck of it cause there were two left.

I’m thinking about when I should make these again. Because my instinct says “now.” But my common sense says “Maybe wait til you burn off a few more calories.”

Family with good recipes is the best kind of family.

Everyone knows wise advice can be found in fortune cookies.

“You find beauty in ordinary things, do not lose this ability.”

or

“A thrilling time is in your immediate future.”

Things that  anyone with half a brain could type up and ship off to Chinese take outs across the nation, knowing they’ve enriched lives in doing so.

This however, I have never seen the likes of. It’s wisdom is so far beyond my  comprehension that I fear I’ll never truly understand or appreciate the full meaning.

If you can, in any way offer enlightement on what you are about to witness, please do not hesitate.

wha......?!?!

Help me. Please. Please, make this make sense!!!

Is it true for most people, that the pallet becomes more sophisticated with age? 10 years ago I wouldn’t have touched a bell pepper.

A few weeks ago I had lunch with Emily and Katrina at the local coffee shop. They served a roasted red bell pepper soup that was so amazing, it literally took one bite for me to know deep down in my heart we would be meeting again.

An early trip this morning to the farmer’s market yeilded me these beauties:

A few minutes under the broiler and we have this:

slice ‘em, dice ‘em, peel the skins and remove the cores.

Then we add them to this pretty mess:

A cast of onions, garlic, carrots and yellow squash. (Was supposed to be potato, but I’m out. So squash was in.) simmering in a bath of olive oil, they’re happy and and sizzling. To that, I added some tomato sauce, chicken stock, and the peppers.

Simmer, simmer,  simmer.

Put in the blender and blend, blend blend.

Back in the pot, add CHEESE! YAY! and cream. I added a tablespoon of sugar too, but don’t tell anybody.

It’s not exactly like the one I had before, but it’s pretty darn close. And it’s equally delicious.

Want to know something funny? I briefly entertained the thought of taking the food out of the pics and photoshopping them into another kitchen that was less messy. And then I realized that in the time it would take me to photoshop my food into someone’s kitchen…I could have cleaned my own twice over.

Who’s retarded now?

But seriously, I have a LOT of roasted pepper soup, if anyone wants to share some for dinner…

There are a few who know me and know what donuts mean to me. Donuts (or doughnuts, if you prefer) are a transcendental experience for me. Spiritual, almost. I asked for them for mothers day. Keep your stupid jewelry, give me donuts!

As a kid, for my birthday my dad would wake me up early and take me to breakfast. At a donut shop. Probably the highlight of my childhood memories. Next to my pink bubble yum gum radio controlled jeep.

I remember learning that you could make faux donuts by deepfrying refrigerator biscuits. And then some years later learning that Chinese buffets employ this technique from coast to coast. I fully intend to perfect the homemade donut, it’s a life persuit I’m determined to achieve. And I get chills at the thought of Ella someday soon being woken up early on her birthday and whisked away to a tiny donut shop and plied with a brilliant Boston cream. No, not chills…tears. I’m tearing up right now at the thought. Geeze.

As a teenager, my friends and I indulged in some online role playing games. My character? A cross between Indiana Jones and Devlin Buchanan. And my character was OF COURSE obsessed with Donuts.

Wonder no more why my cell’s ringtone has been and forever will be the Indiana Jones theme song.

Donuts are an important part of my life, albeit not as plentiful as I would prefer. I dream of opening the perfect donut shop. Everywhere I have ever lived, I’ve said “I’d love to open a donut shop here.” because the need is SO PRESSING.

Think long and hard about your commitment to donuts, because today is national donut day.

Don’t squander that donut.

After some consideration, I think I’ve narrowed down the culprit for keeping that last 20lbs of “baby weight” hanging around. Yes, I’m naming names:

Darlene Partin.

When we moved here, back in the day, we briefly lived next door to our pastor and his wife. We were in fact renting from them while we got settled in our new town.
One evening, they invited us to go over to a neighbors home for an open house. I really only remember one thing from that evening, and it was a momentous night indeed. Darlene said to me “oh, you’ll love these! Try one!” she might have mentioned chocolate. She might have thrown in a “I know you have a sweet tooth” or something to that effect. The details are hazy.

All I know is, four years later I regularly eat a pan of these, and any chance of regaining a slim figure has bid me adiós.

This is heaven in four ingredients:

Soda cracker candy.

Notice there are four left, out of a 9×13 pan?

I’m so ashamed.

Is there a support group out there for self-control? I’m thinking 12 steps might not be enough.

Tonight was a late dinner. I told Shannon I was going to make a pie, and then once I started making crust I was like “well why would I make just one crust?” so I made a quiche.  No pics of the pie in the making, but here is the quiche in it’s infant stages:

Bacon, of course. I feel a deep sadness for anyone living a Kosher life.

8 eggs, and a handful of broccoli. The spices you see in the background are left over from the pumpkin pie. (I’m so unseasonal, right? who makes pumpkin pie in May?)  To the eggs, I added some ground dried mustard, salt, fresh black pepper, garlic powder, and about 1 cup of cream.

Can you tell that I totally rolled that crust out myself? I totally did, and it was worth it. Also visible is about half a pound of sharp cheddar. Cheddar makes it better.

Looks pretty good, right?  Shannon really likes hollandaise sauce on his quiche, so I’m about to whip up some of that.

As a word of warning…no recipes were (or will be) shared in the posting of this blog. And this is by no means a cooking blog. So no nice pics of the slice on a plate complete with sauce, and a recipe to follow…no sir.  This is just what I made for dinner.

I’m also going to whip up some heavy cream for that there pumpkin pie.

Yummers!

Sometimes I watch Iron Chef (or cooking shows in general) and can’t imagine putting the things they’re making in my mouth, let alone allowing them on my plate.

But then sometimes they do a show where every single morsel of food looks so tasty I have to fight the urge to tear my kitchen up in a cooking tornado of awesomeness.

I am so hungry right now.