Archive for June, 2010

a few days ago, my Brazilian friend Luc and I were making fun of how Brits have hung onto 1966 ever since it’s been 1966. as I mentioned earlier, every World Cup is ‘England’s this year!’ and every year [aside from 1966] it isn’t. there’s a certain charm in the country continuously backing their boys and then, a few days later, continuously moaning about how ‘they invented every sport and continue to be shit at it’… but rest assured that whoever says that will more than likely be the first to throw St. James Cross on their back the next go-around and believe – truly believe – that this year is England’s.

today I was invited over to a neighbor’s party, a mostly-older crowd which meant they had no qualms about being drunk on Pimm’s at 3pm in the afternoon. we watched England barely beat Slovenia and they even offered up a genuine cheer when the announcer announced [thus - doing his job] that the ‘United States had scored in penalty time to defeat Algeria’. considering this put us above them in our respective bracket, it was a very nice thing indeed. I came home and celebrated throughout Facebook and Twitter as only people my age can do – and then the talks went to if we could actually pull it off… and it got me thinking.

I hope we don’t.

and that is me being more patriotic than you think.

look, I could write paragraph-after-paragraph on what it must be like growing up in poor countries where all you have is a dirty ball to kick around. the spirit that surrounds every nation as that every-four-years begins – no doubt many before me have written about it. and everyone pretty much knows what I’m getting at here.

if this finds you with any doubt in your mind what the world’s most popular sport is, then, well, let me help you out:

it ain’t baseball.

sure, we have the World Series, but let’s be honest, it’s hardly a series of the world. same goes for the Super Bowl the Finals and anything else that can easily be punctuated with an exclamation mark to make it exciting… but this is the only event where 99% of the world takes part even if they’re not taking part. and nowhere is that more evident that England. Mel even commented yesterday that her business had a ‘hard time finding a bar in London to rent out for clients as they were all already booked’ – this is the first round of the Cup for and bars are fully booked!

think about that – we’re still weeks away from the final matches and they’re already booked up.

well, it ain’t that way back home. fair enough, we’ve got enough things going on sports-wise, what with the ‘big four’ – but that is exactly why I hope we don’t succeed. it has nothing to do with us not deserving it – may the best team win. what it does have to do with is the accolades said team would receive upon coming home. quickly Google any country’s celebration post-world-cup-win – it’s pandemonium. insanity. and a good insanity, not like our American Parody’s in Los Angeles. it’s mayhem. joy. and the players are gods for the rest of their lives.

but it wouldn’t be like that for our boys.

oh sure, you and I and everyone else who’s spent 2 days in London only to return supporting an obscure Premiership Team all in the name of impressing others would make a big deal out of it, but it wouldn’t be anything noteworthy in the States. there’d be a small parade and Sportscenter would make it their lead story, but be guaranteed they wouldn’t talk about it much as some ‘girl’s game’ is no match for finding out if the Twins won that night. our boys would be bigger everywhere else in the world than their own country – little Obama’s if you will – and it simply wouldn’t be fitting.

so play on, boys. and play hard – in my hope of hopes, it’s to get you all the way to the semifinals and then lose to Argentina. Maradona would say something great about our squad and maybe that would make the press and we actually start paying attention to it [read: putting some serious money in it] and then, in 4-8 years, we would win… with a captive home audience.

an appreciative home audience.

a home audience who would realize that winning this is bigger than a gold medal.

but until then, until we recognize David Beckham as something other than ‘the guy who’s married to Posh Spice’, until we don’t get the inside joke of Landon Donovan touching ‘the hand of God’, until we don’t find ourselves taking off work to watch a match and then telling the honest truth the next morning about simply being ‘too hungover to come into work’, we don’t deserve to win.

our boys might, but we as a country do not.

and let’s be honest, we’re just now getting back to a good place with the world liking us again… winning a sport we still don’t know all the rules to?

let’s hold off.

how silly of me. thinking ‘hey – let’s trade recipes!’ as if someone hasn’t done that already.my friend Robin sent me one of hers and after a quick look at ingredients, we both came to the same conclusion. cooking is no fun unless there is alcohol involved – both in the mix, and in the belly.so, what was once ‘grub’ is now ‘grubcrawling©’ [get it - like 'pubcrawling'? great stuff] so – send in your recipes, ones that involve booze. and we shall all use cooking as an excuse to hide the fact that we might have a problem.

-

Beef Medallions in Artichoke Cream

Preheat a heavy non-stick skillet (cast iron is best) over med-high heat til plenty hot. Add 2 6oz tenderloin fillets cut in half through the middle into medallions and sear 2-3 minutes each side. Remove from pan and keep warm. To the skillet, add 2T butter and allow to melt. Then add 6 artichoke hearts cut in half  2T shallots chopped fine 1T coarse Dijon mustard 1oz Jack Daniels and reduce by half. (If the whiskey ignites, it will burn out in a few seconds.) Add 1/2c heavy cream and reduce by half. Return the meat and any juices to the pan and turn several times to coat meat with sauce. Plate medallions, top with artichokes and drizzle both heavily with sauce.

[Robin Sisney - Bend, OR]

…and so begins our weekly recipe.

I’ll go first.

-

crab risotto

-fresh crab. no fake crab – real crab. if you can buy freshly picked crab, mix two parts white meat with one part dark meat. don’t overdo it on the dark meat, less it take over the rest of the flavors. you can, however, mix this a day before and use the left-over dark meat for the stock – which we’ll get into in a second.

- a dry white wine [sauvignon blanc, if you can - and remember the rule: if it's not good enough to drink, it's certainly not good enough to cook with]

- rice [they suggest risotto rice, but whatever, really]

- half an onion, finely chopped

- 4 spring onions, finely chopped

- stock. I’m going to write it again. stock. good stock. good stock as in – have been boiling the remains of the crab for 12 hours stock. this is what makes or breaks this dish. no cubed stuff.

… okay, it’s pretty basic. fry both onions in oil and garlic for a few minutes until they start to sweat. drop the stove to a low heat, [but not too low] throw in as much rice as you need, throw in a bit of stock and start folding it over-and-over. ‘you should never be able to see the bottom of the pan’ is one of the best tips I’ve heard for risotto. keep folding/stirring the rice over the stock until it’s absorbed and then start with the wine. if you run out of stock/wine before the rice reaches it’s al dente consistency, throw in more wine. and never stop stirring. this is the beauty of risotto, you’re forced to hover over a stove with lots of wine in reach. I’ve never soberly finished this dish – thus the memories of it always coming out amazing. who cares, really – you disappear for 45 minutes, ain’t no one gonna blame you for coming back out legless. back to the risotto – once you have the consistency where you want it, turn the heat off and then throw in the crab. fold this into the rice creation for a few minutes. serve with freshly grated parmesan, zest of lemon and a pinch of parsley.

it’s not an easy thing at first, risotto, but this might be the best dish I know how to make.

lemme know how it goes.

-a

for all of the ridiculous words and phrases going around these days [seriously, Canadians - 'Icing?'... weirdos], I do have to admit to loving this one…

foodies.

I’m also thankful to be surrounded by people who take it as seriously as I do. and I do. hell, even last weekend I refused to let a friend of mine play her music while I was cooking – it had to be Coltrane. anything else wouldn’t have made sense. needless to say, if I’m that fussy [stubborn] about what I’m listening to, I’m even more fussy [stubborn] about what’s made. living here, by myself in a big place with a decent-sized kitchen has been fantastic for my cookeries. I finally learned how to make homemade pizza, more stews, more baking, more marinades… all sorts of things. it’s part of most conversations – I get more excited about the food in different countries than most anything else. take Germany, for example. I can tell you very little about the rise-and-fall of Berlin, but the top 5 places to get a sausage? yes, sir. travel fuels this addiction. I can’t not land in Hawaii and go first for Giovanni’s, then to Jaws and then immediately back to Sansei’s on Waikiki to bury my face in their famed Dungeness Crab with Truffle Oil Ramen. Indonesia? I’d take you into the very middle of Java, a 2-day trek from any port, just to absorb whatever Mr. Noodle [his English name] would procure. there’s a very good chance I could draw you directions to at least one good place in every place I’ve been. no lie.

long story short – it’s what you remember.

the food.

so, starting next week, I’m going to scour the earth [read: ask once on Facebook] for best recipes. you’ve already gotten Robin’s Salsa, which I miss so much it stings, but there will be more. at least once a week. and if you’ve got one, well, then – email me.

I love food. more than you. as in, not more than you do, but as in I love food more than I love you.

and I do hope the feeling is mutual.

except for you, my 4 stalkers [yes - there's a new one]. I don’t want to know what sad soups you make.

so yeah, next week. it’s on.

mmm.