After From Carnivore to Vegetarian in 3 Easy Steps, I have had requests for more details on my vegetarian dishes. I did not create any of these recipes. I do not take credit. Cause I am NOT that good. Most of these are adaptations of […]
Month: November 2017
Tis the season, once again.
No, I am not talking about the holidays.
I am talking about dance season.
Every year, from August to May, it’s dance time. That time of year with 4 hour practices twice a week, weekend practices as needed, recitals, all day long competitions… I am exhausted just writing it. And that doesn’t even take into consideration the thousands of dollars poured into the sport (thankfully she has an incredible Grandma that helps out a TON in this area).
I danced as a kid. And I loved it. I loved the energy, the expression, the camaraderie with my teams. But never once as a kid did I stop to realize how much effort my parents put into making sure I could dance. How much time and money. I am one of 7 kids, all with our own individual extra curricular activities. And they just made it happen. Without complaint. I knew they weren’t rich, but I never recall them complaining about the cost. They did everything they could to make sure we were able to participate. And I was a brat about it, I am sure. When I made drill team in high school, they were only able to pay for half of the cost, I paid the rest by working odd jobs and doing fund raisers. I was so mad at them for not paying for it all, like some of the other girls parents. I never once stopped to think that they were doing all they could, and I just needed to put in a little more effort on my end. I wish I could go back now and smack my stupid high school self and make her understand that even when I was being a snot, all my parents wanted was to help me with my dream of dancing.
Because at the end of the day, that is what it is all about. When I see my little girl out on that stage, dancing her heart out, showing her emotions through the movements, it is all worth it. All the time and money and energy to make sure that she can do what she loves. I hope that someday she will realize and appreciate what her parents and grandparents do for her and be thankful. But until then, watching her dance is all the gratitude I need.
And thank you mom. For everything.
I love to cook. I enjoy trying new things and being able to eat something that I made that tastes AMAZING, and my kids ask me to make “chef food” because they like to flatter me and give me a big head.
But one thing I had never attempted was a poached egg. It was too intimidating. Cooking an egg in boiling water and somehow making it stay together?? What sorcery is this? There was no way that I could do that.
The problem is, Eggs Benedict is one of Tyson’s favorite breakfast dishes. And he went out of town for work, so I decided now was the time to learn and surprise him with it when he got back.
A Google search of “easy Eggs Benedict” brought me to this site. In hindsight, Hollandaise sauce in a blender may not have been the BEST recipe, but I was looking for easy, not restaurant quality, at least for my first attempt. Also, I don’t own a blender, so I did it in my food processor, which did technically work… but made a mess and I don’t think it was exactly how it should have been. Next time I would probably just use my stand mixer for whisking (which happens to be one of my favorite kitchen appliances ever. If you don’t have one, you need one if your life). I don’t know. But I would do it better. Whatever that is.
So I began the process, skipping the bacon part since we don’t eat that. Toasting the English muffins took a surprisingly long time. Around 5 minutes, just to get any color. I don’t know if this is my toasters fault, or if English muffins just like to stay patsy white. Either way, it took a while.
For the low rolling boil to poach the eggs in, I found that a 5 on my burner was the perfect temperature. Obviously this would vary depending on your stove, but that was my level. I added the vinegar and I was ready to poach my first egg. I cracked the egg into a measuring cup so that I would have the longer handle and not burn myself.
Into the water the egg went.
And then the egg went everywhere in the water. It looked like a white explosion. And somehow it stuck to the bottom of the pot. How the eff does that happen??
I scooped the egg bits out with a spoon and fed them to the dogs. I almost gave up at that point.
But then I remembered a trick from my copious amounts of Worst Cooks in America that I have watched, where they stir the boiling water into a “tornado” before they put the egg in. The swirling water is supposed to somehow swirl all the egg whites together so they go into a ball, rather than all over the pot. What the hell, I may as well give it a shot.
It worked perfectly.
Well, not perfectly, but at least good enough. Thanks, Chef Anne Burrell.
So there you have it. My very first poached egg experience. And they were pretty dang good, if I say so myself. Tyson seemed to agree as he ate 5 of them. I’m calling that a win.