Vegetarian Tonight

Oh the Holidays have come and gone. Some of us are feeling nostalgic, some worn out and some a little fatter then when we started. If the thought of another cookie, cake or drink makes you queasy; jump on the bandwagon. Joe and I, in our travels this holiday season, visited a few states, and ate and drank a lot. In the car ride back up to Maine, we decided we needed a little digestive break from all the food we had eaten in the last week; pounds (yes pounds) of bacon, heaps of cookies and piles of junk that we do not regularly consume.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed every minute of it. And to balance things out, Joe and I did manage to take some cold and icy walks around neighborhoods and orchards when possible. The addition of a blizzard on the East Coast allowed us to spend one morning shoveling, and one evening digging out a parking space in Astoria. So in my mind things almost worked out evenly. Or at least that’s what I am telling myself.

In order to get ourselves back on track we both agreed to a week of vegetarian meals. Well, I thought we had agreed to an entire week’s worth of meat free-whole grain-veggie loaded entrees to fill us up and clean us out. But I may have been one-sided in that conversation. I had visions of winter greens, tempeh, spelt and more floating through my head, while I’m pretty sure Joe had one meal of pasta without meat sauce floating through his.

Sunday night began our foray into meatless dining; fusilli from the Fairway Grocery in New York and an organic jarred pasta sauce that we tossed together quickly after six-plus hours in the car. Monday night we delved even deeper with mustard crusted tofu and gingered kale and sweet potatoes. Yes, this may have been too much for Joe. But I have made it before and I really love this dish. I may even share it with you here at some point. I did accidentally utter the word ‘vegan’ when preparing this meal and that, I think, was the tipping point for Joe.

So when I walked in last night with three giant leeks and a brocco-flower, Joe had a horrified look on his face. I told him I was going to make the Vegetarian Cassoulet he had enjoyed in the past. That look on his face softened a little, but returned full force when I told him I thought I would do a veggie-only stir fry the next night.
‘Vegetables only?!’
‘Well, yeah. We agreed to eat vegetarian all week.’
‘I thought we meant only a couple of nights.’

Apparently 4 nights in a row was too much for Joe. So I told him we could add in the Maine shrimp I just bought and he reluctantly agreed. This conversation, I believe, dulled his enthusiasm for last night’s perfectly respectable meal. The vegetarian cassoulet is very good, hearty, filling and flavorful, but never-the-less; meat-free. Had I made this in an ordinary week, free of vegetarian ideals, Joe would have loved it. And in fact, I have added in chopped ham if I am feeling sorry for Joe. But not last night. When I asked Joe if he liked it and said that I didn’t even notice there was no meat in it. Joe replied, ‘It’s good, but I still know there’s no meat in it.’ I’ll let you make up your own mind.

Vegetarian Cassoulet
As adapted from Bon Appetit, March 2008

This is an easy meal that stretches a long way with cheap ingredients (also handy after Holiday spending). I like to use a mixture of beans, but you can use all cannellini if you prefer. Plus, you get to put garlic breadcrumbs on the top of each serving, which may be the best part. I might start putting garlic breadcrumbs on my cereal.

¼ c. olive oil
3 medium leeks, white and light green parts, chopped into ½” pieces
3 medium carrots, halved lengthwise and then cut into ½” pieces
2 large celery stalks, halved lengthwise and then cut into 1/2 “ pieces (see a pattern here?)
2 medium onions, chopped
4 cloves, garlic, chopped
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tsp. dried parsley
¼ tsp. ground cloves
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. pepper
3 cans beans (Cannellini, pinto and butterbeans is what I used), drained and rinsed
1 quart vegetable stock or water

Garlic Breadcrumbs
½ c. breadcrumbs from day old bread, or toasted bread that you make into crumbs
1 large clove of garlic, finely chopped
2 Tb. olive oil
Salt
Dried Parsley

For the Cassoulet:
Heat olive oil in a large heavy bottomed pot over medium high heat. Add in all of the vegetables and cook about 5 minutes, until they are all heated through. Then add the thyme, parsley, cloves, salt and pepper. Stir to combine and continue cooking until some of the onions start to turn golden, about 15 minutes.

Next, add in the beans. Stir to combine, then pour in vegetable stock or water. Bring cassoulet to a simmer and cook, slightly uncovered for about 30 minutes, until the carrots are tender.

While the cassoulet simmers, prepare the garlic breadcrumbs. Preheat oven to 350°. Combine the crumbs with the olive oil and salt (to taste) and parsley (for looks) in a bowl. Spread the crumb mixture onto a baking sheet and toast in the oven for about 15 minutes, or until the crumbs are golden brown and crunchy.

Just before serving, mash some of the beans with a fork on the back of your stirring spoon, to help thicken the stew. To serve, place cassoulet in individual bowls and top with garlic breadcrumbs.

Say What? Ceviche!

There is a fish market in San Pedro, California. It is amazing, but not for the faint of heart. It’s loud, and crowded and not sparkling clean, but it is amazing. I don’t remember how Joe and I came upon the fish market one Saturday morning to find the bustling complex of stalls and cooks. Maybe I wanted to go to just buy a fish for dinner. However we found it, we walked into something we were totally unprepared for.

You can buy whole, filleted, chunks, cooked, combo-ed, basically any imaginable preparation of (or lack thereof) fish at this market. But apparently, what most of the crowd was doing, was eating. So Joe and I quickly abandoned our plans to purchase a fish and take it home. We walked around looking at what people were eating, and smelling what others were cooking. We settled on a promising line, offering trays (yes, cafeteria style plastic trays) piled with all sorts of fish and vegetables.

Most of the fish markets’ clientele were families sitting together at tables on the dock pulling from overloaded trays of food. We needed to be part of that. So we got on line and patiently waited, perusing the menu with pictures above the cooks. Number 1 seemed to be a pile of shrimp with peppers, onions, and potatoes, garlic bread and tortillas. Number two was more of the same with the addition of grilled fish. And on this went up to I believe 8 options. Each larger and more appetizing than the last.

Number 2 is what we settled on, and so what if it was for a family of 4? Joe and I could handle it, with the aid of some gigantic Coronas, the Southern California sun and a Mariachi band roving between the tables. But, what really caught my eye, was the smaller stand in front of the grilled trays of fish offering raw treats. It was like the candy in the grocery store isle and upon checkout, I was pulling at Joe’s shirt and begging to just have one piece.

This is where it does not help to be squeamish. I’m sure everything was perfectly safe to eat, and I did not get sick at all. But the combination of fish smell, high heat and lots of people don’t typically give off a good impression when you are about to eat raw fish. I, however, was undeterred.

We got a cup of ceviche. It had tomatoes, and fish and scallops and shrimp and octopus, cilantro and plenty of lime. They also offered small bottles of San Pedro Fish Market hot sauce, which I happily bought for a dollar to douse on top of my ceviche. In fact that hot sauce was so good, I popped it in my purse and have since moved it across the country to Maine. I ration it out now for only truly special occasions. But if anyone wants to head to San Pedro and pick me up a bottle, I will happily send you the $1 for it.

But I digress. The ceviche was a fantastic combination of cool and spice, refreshing and stimulating. I fell in love. Joe and I went back a few more times to the San Pedro fish market to get whole grilled fishes, more trays of mixed dishes and of course the ceviche. And when we moved away, that was one piece of Southern California I was really going to miss.

So when the opportunity for my office Holiday Potluck arose, I thought I would make ceviche. And not just because I knew no one would have heard of it. I really wanted a little reminder of the sun and mariachis and relaxation this winter.

Ceviche
This turned out a little more like the pico de gallo salsa that I used to make frequently. But I like this version, and it is less scary then a mound of “raw” fish for the uninitiated. The reason I put raw in quotation marks, is because the citric acid in the lime and lemon juices change the protein structure of the raw shrimp to make it seem like it has been cooked (and for all you chemistry folks out there, it really gets denatured, but I didn’t want to get too technical).
Also, I used Maine shrimp for this, as they are running this time of year. But, if you can’t get Maine shrimp (you can order them online from all the places you might order live lobsters from Maine) you can use any small cold water shrimp. The flavor is a bit sweeter and goes well with the citrus and spice. And give yourself plenty of time to let the mixture marinate; at least 6 hours. (I like overnight)

1 pound small cold water shrimp
½ large white onion
3 cloves garlic
1 jalapeño pepper (I deseeded one half of the pepper, but left the other half intact, you can vary this for the amount of heat you prefer)
4 medium vine ripened tomatoes, quartered
½ seedless cucumber, peeled
1 large bunch cilantro
4 large, juicy limes
1 large lemon
Salt
Pepper
1 tsp. Cumin
½ tsp. Paprika

Roughly chop the onion, garlic and jalapeño and place them into the bowl of a food processor. Pulse a few times to break them down. Next add the cilantro, tomatoes, cucumber, salt and pepper and pulse until the tomatoes are chopped into ¼ pieces. Do not over process or you will have a delicious salsa and not a ceviche.

Move this mixture to a bowl and add lime and lemon juice. Peel the shrimp and chop into thirds. Toss the shrimp into the bowl with the other ingredients, add cumin and paprika and stir to combine. Make sure to press all of the shrimp down into the mixture so that they are covered by the liquid.

Serve with tostadas or tortilla chips, or just a spoon.

I Am Not An Italian Nona

I don’t know if you knew that about me, but I’m not. In fact my WASP-y heritage prohibits me from becoming one, even though this is my lifelong dream. Basically, this means that I want to be really good at cooking Italian food. I’m not bad at it, but it does not come to me with ease or grace.

While in college some of my closest friends came from Italian backgrounds, and I was able to learn some basic principles from them through their family recipes. But as you can imagine, it is hard to cook gigantic dinners in college apartment s and dorms. Not impossible, but hard.

My group of friends and I would try to have “Family Dinner” on Sundays or at least once a week. This would be at various people’s apartments and usually consisted of giant quantities of food (we are talking college aged men here - they eat a lot). My sophomore year college dorm room had a tiny kitchenette that consisted of a sink, a small stove and oven and a refrigerator. There was approximately 2 square feet of counter space, which lead to creative storage and dish drying spaces. When I moved in, my mom unloaded all of her old pots, pans and utensils on me –most of which I actually still have.

In particular she gave me a gigantic stock pot. When I first got it, I said “Mom, I am never going to use this thing – it’s HUGE!” And she replied with a “Well, just keep it, you never know.” And once again the wisdom of mother panned out. I managed to cook up to 3 pounds of pasta at one time in it, which was just about how much was needed for a group of 6-8 college students.

I learned how to make marinara sauce, meatballs, eggplant parmesan and other dishes though the tutelage of college friends. And now, with Joe’s family, I have been able to learn even more about the art of Italian-American cooking. But the very intense crazy 'grandma-only' dishes have yet to be conquered by me.

For example, I tried to make Joe a 'welcome home' dinner this past Sunday of braciole. For those of you who don’t know what braciole is, it is magical. I had a bit of it from a friend’s grandmother once, and I would have had some from Joe’s Nana, except that he ate all of it before I could get my fork in there. Braciole is a piece of meat, either veal or beef, pounded thin and then wrapped around breadcrumbs, seasoning and hardboiled egg. It’s then braised and served with a tomato sauce and pasta. Like I said, magical. So I found a recipe online, and thought I could spend all day Sunday making it.

To make a long story a bit shorter, it didn’t turn out the way I wanted. Joe mentioned that he was glad he was not around to witness the debacle. There was profanity and the throwing of things. Wrapping meat around a filling successfully is my kryptonite in the kitchen. The braciole didn’t look good, but it tasted fine, and the sauce that went with it was great. So that is what I would like to share with you here today. If you know how to make braciole, or if you keep a small Italian grandmother hidden away for such occasions, please feel free to add it to the recipe.


Meat Braised Marinara Sauce As adapted from Tyler Florence’s “Ultimate Braciole”
I typically find Tyler Florence’s recipes good if not a little too involved. But this one looked promising. If you care to find his recipe for braciole, go ahead and give it a shot, but I am just going to share the sauce portion, which is still very good over pasta.

3Tb Olive oil
2 cloves
6 sprigs of thyme (washed but not chopped)
1 small (1-2 pounds) beef roast, or flank steak
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
1 ½ c beef broth
2 bay leaves
1 28oz. can crushed tomatoes (with no additional seasonings)
4 whole vine ripened tomatoes
½ pint grape tomatoes, whole
Salt and pepper
2 Tb balsamic vinegar
3 Tb parsley, chopped

Preheat the oven to 350°, and season the meat with salt and pepper. Heat the olive oil in a dutch oven and add the garlic cloves and thyme. Once the garlic is fragrant, add the meat and brown on all sides. If the thyme and garlic start to brown too much, remove them from them from the oil, and set aside. Once the meat is browned, remove it to a platter and set aside.

Next add the onions and sauté until soft, about 3-4 minutes. Then add in beef broth and bay leaves, scraping up any brown bits on the bottom of the pan. Once the beef broth is boiling, add in the can of tomatoes, the reserved garlic and thyme and stir to combine. Once the mixture is fully combined, add back in the meat.

Nestle in the whole tomatoes around the meat, and toss in the grape tomatoes. Season with salt and pepper. Bring the entire mixture to a simmer, then cover and place in the oven. Cook for about 2 hours, or until the meat is form tender (it will shrink in size a bit). Then remove the pot from the oven, and set the meat on a platter, and shred with a fork. Remove the whole tomatoes from the sauce, as well as the bay leaves and thyme springs. Blend the remaining mixture in a blender or with an immersion blender until combined. Then place the pot over medium heat.

Peel off the skin from the large whole tomatoes, and crush, then return them to the pot. Also, add back in the shredded meat and any juices that may have accumulated. Bring the pot to a simmer. Add in the balsamic vinegar and parsley and simmer for about 5 minutes. Check for seasonings, and serve over cooked pasta.

Zwiebelkuchen

Yes, Zwiebelkuchen. Don’t be scared. I’ll walk you through it. Svee-bell-coo-tschen. Well, that’s basically right, the tschen is really more of a throat noise, like if you were pretending to hiss with the back of your throat like a cat – that’s the noise we’re going for. Go ahead, give it a try. No one is judging you here. Zwee-bell-coo- (hiss like a cat)en. Good!

Ok now that we got that out of the way, Zweibelkuchen is an onion cake. Don’t say eww just yet! Onion cake is not literally a layer cake made from onions, it’s more like a quiche or savory tart. A crust, onions, bacon and a light custard make this little baby up, and it is delicious. This dish is found in many different countries with slight variations, but the alpine region in Europe does it the best (in my opinion). So whether you are in France, Switzerland or Italy, try it! But if you are in Germany, I implore you to get a slice.

This was another one of those experiences that was a perfect food memory for me. I had Zwiebelkuchen twice while in Germany, and now ever since I found this recipe I have been hooked. The first time I had it, was at a traditional wine harvest dinner. This was a bit more commercialized than me harvesting grapes from a sun drenched vineyard. But never the less, there was a farm, and the farmer sold tickets to his harvest dinner. In south-west Germany, it was common for farmers to need extra hands in the fall. Workers were fed a light dinner of Zwiebelkuchen and given the Neuesüsse wine to drink that evening.

Neuesüsse is the sweet, barely fermented wine that is bottled and shared directly after harvest. It is very sweet and everyone recommends not having too many glasses of it for the sake of your bowels. But it is good and it is cheap, which of course, is even better. If you can find a bottle at a farmer’s market, you can let it ferment more on a shelf, but be sure to uncork it, or the bottle is rumored to explode on you as the pressure builds.

The other time I had Zwiebelkuchen was when a roommate of mine (and I will save some of the fabulous stories about my roommates in Germany for another time)made it with some friends. This was an opportunity for onion googles, if I have ever seen one. They chopped so many pounds of onions, that the tiny apartment kitchen was lethal to be in. If someone walked into the kitchen they were hit with a wall of onion gas. It was beautiful.

So if you are stuck in a rut for holiday potluck options. Give this a try. You can follow the recipe I will share below, or you can cheap it up a bit, and use refrigerated crescent rolls, ham and a little bit of cheese for a quick brunch option.

Zwiebelkuchen
As adapted from The New German Cookbook by Jean Anderson and Hedy Würz

2 sheets puff pastry, defrosted and at room temperature
7-8 slices of thick cut bacon, chopped into small squares
1 lb. yellow onions, thinly sliced
2 tsp. caraway seeds
½ tsp. nutmeg
½ c. whole milk
¼ c. heavy whipping cream
2 eggs, beaten
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 400°. Pinch together the two sheets of puff pastry dough and roll out to fit into a 15”x12” cookie sheet (standard size), there should be about a ½” overlap up the sides of the baking sheet.

Sauté the chopped bacon in a large skillet over medium heat, then remove the bacon, but keep the grease in the pan. Add sliced onions into pan and sauté for about 7 minutes until translucent. Then add caraway seeds and nutmeg and continue to sauté until the onion is very soft, another 7-10 minutes. If the onions start to get brown, turn the heat a little lower and stir more frequently. A little brown on the edges is fine, but not burnt or completely caramelized.

Next, pour the onions onto the puff pastry and sprinkle with bacon bits. Pull the extra puff pastry over top of the onion and bacon, forming a bit of a lip around the entire tart. Bake the Zwiebelkuchen for 15 minutes. Meanwhile, combine the milk, cream, eggs, salt and pepper. After 15 minutes remove the cookie sheet, and pour the milk mixture over top of the onions. The milk mixture should not cover the onions completely, so feel free to reserve any excess milk and egg mixture for another purpose (scrambled eggs or like Joe and I did for a ghetto carbonara). Return the cookie sheet to the oven and continue to bake for another 20-25 minutes. If the edges of the pastry get too brown, cover the sheet loosely with aluminum foil.

Once the custard has set (is no longer jiggly) remove the Zwiebelkuchen from the oven and let cool about 20 minutes. Then slice and serve! I like Zwiebelkuchen warm, but I love it cold or even reheated the next day.

Raw Harmony

Thanksgiving is next week. I’m sure you have made plans about where to eat, what to eat and when to eat. But I just thought I would offer up one more suggestion.

I have not yet made Thanksgiving dinner all by myself yet. I mean, I have cooked Thanksgiving dinner with my family now for years, but I have not single-handedly attempted this feast. I once made a toned down version of it for a couple of friends when Joe and I were in California, but that was only because I had a coupon for a free frozen turkey from the grocery store. So I don’t know if that counts.

When I was little my family always went to my grandparent’s house in Delaware. And I mentioned here before, that I could stand in the kitchen and watch my grandmother cook for as long as I wanted. I remember being almost at counter-height watching her reach into a gigantic pale turkey and pull out its giblets. I told her it was disgusting. And she laughed and told me I too would do it one day. I believe my reaction was a gag as I told her “No way!”

Well, that day has come. I no longer fear reaching up the backside of poultry and scooping out whatever meaty bits are left intact. But this is not the case for many people around this holiday. In fact, in the spirit of full disclosure, I once vowed to become a vegetarian at Thanksgiving. It may have been the same year I decided raw turkeys were gross. I excused myself from the table, ran down the hall into my mother’s childhood bedroom, flung myself on the bed and started crying. When my mom came in and asked what was wrong, I told her we shouldn’t eat meat because it’s mean to the animals. And if you know my mom, you’ll understand her reaction.
"Are you kidding? Where did this come from?”
“I just decided” I sobbed.

So for everyone next week, who doesn’t eat meat, or doesn’t eat any animal products, or for anyone who just needs something to bring to a Thanksgiving dinner; this recipe is it! It is easy and quick, can be made ahead of time or ten minutes prior to eating. And although there is a very similar recipe in the NY Times this week, I assure you this one is different.

Raw Sweet Potato Maple and Cranberry Salad
Adapted from Joan Nathan's The New American Cooking
This recipe is very versatile. You can switch the orange juice for lime, or the parsley for cilantro or the maple syrup for honey. This dish fits into the theme of Thanksgiving with a modern twist. But be warned, it will make a lot!

1 large red fleshed sweet potato, peeled
2 small cloves garlic, peeled
1/3 c. flat leaf parsley
1/3 c. dried cranberries
Juice of one orange (or tangerine)
1 ½ Tb. Pure Maple syrup (preferably dark)
Salt and pepper to taste

Grate the peeled garlic into a bowl. Next, chop the parsley and cranberries together until relatively fine. Grate the sweet potato on a box grater using the smaller size hole. It will be a bit watery, but don’t squeeze the juice out. Next combine all the ingredients together and stir. Taste for salt and pepper and add as desired.

Onion Goggles

My grandmother used to wear “Onion Goggles.” This is not the same as beer goggles, although actual visibility may be just as impaired by either. No, Onion Goggles were the science lab type of eyewear protection my grandmother would wear while chopping onions. I only remember her wearing them sometimes and I can’t tell you what she was making while wearing them, but I am guessing anything with a lot of onions.

I used to love that she had onion goggles, and I would wonder why we did not have onion goggles at home for all of our onion chopping needs. During the holidays I could stand in the kitchen and watch her cook. She would pull out the onions, open her kitchen drawer, don the goggles and get to work. My eyes would always tear up, and she would tell me that I needed a pair of onion goggles. I’m not sure if I ever was given a pair, but hopefully there is a picture somewhere of my grandmother and me wearing our onion goggles standing at the kitchen counter.

I too have enlisted the help of eye protection occasionally when cutting onions. If the amount is small enough I will tough it out and have myself a good cry. But when I am cutting a lot of onions, I may bust out some old swim goggles and strap them to my head. I must say, that swim goggles are not the ideal goggles to use on dry land. My goggles constantly fog up, and make it extremely dangerous to continue chopping.

When we were living in California, I had offered to make the stuffing for a large family style Thanksgiving meal at the bakery I worked at. This meant stuffing for about 120 people. And if you remember how I have a problem gauging how much food to make – it will come as no surprise that I made waaaay too much stuffing. Plus, working at the bakery gave me access to all the different types of bread I could ever want in a stuffing. At any rate, I made about 40 pounds of stuffing. Which of course called for about 10 pounds of onions.

When chopping 10 pounds of onions you really do need eyewear protection. I tried everything else – freezing the onions, cutting them under water (which is a surefire way to cut yourself and make it look like a scene from Jaws in your kitchen sink), lighting a match and so on, but goggles are simply the best. And the reason I am mentioning this now, is not for a recipe on stuffing (although I may do that later) but for onion soup.

For a good onion soup, you really need to cut a lot of onions. I will give you a recipe that calls for a certain number of onions, but the goal here is to force other people out of the kitchen with the huge amounts of noxious onion gas you will be unleashing. Or better yet, if the people in another room of your house, have to leave or open a window – you know you have cut the appropriate amount for a good soup.

To me, French onion soup is a great, simple meal that is best on a cold and damp day. I have had onion soups from powdered mixes, cans, and restaurants. I have had soup with bread, no bread, gruyere cheese, swiss cheese and mozzarella cheese. And I like them all. The following recipe combines a couple of techniques which make it less labor intensive and creates a wonderful aroma that will push out the stinging bite of raw onions left hovering in your living room.

Many Onion Soup
I like using different types of onions in this. Traditional brown or yellow onions are a great base of flavor and can be supplemented with other kinds – red, cippolini, white, etc. You can use some sweet onions, but I do not recommend using a lot. Since the onions will be caramelized, the sweeter the onion to start the blander it will become once it is cooked.

3 pounds assorted cooking onions, cut in half and sliced
2 Tb. olive oil
3 Tb. Butter
1 tsp. dried thyme
½ c. sherry
2 c. Beef broth/stock
Salt and Pepper to taste (the salt really helps heighten the flavor here)

Sliced French Bread
1 garlic clove, peeled
1 ½ c. grated gruyere cheese

Preheat the oven to 425°. Place the olive oil into the bottom of a large heavy bottomed pot, and toss in onions. It will look like a lot of onions. Dot the onions with the butter, and bake uncovered for about 50 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Pull the pot out of the oven, and place over medium heat. Stir occasionally, scraping up any brown bits that may appear. This will speed up the caramelization process. Then add the thyme, a dash of salt and pepper and stir to combine.

Add the cooking sherry and boil rapidly to boil off the alcohol. Next, add the beef broth and bring to a simmer. If your soup is a little light in color, feel free to cheat and use some gravy master – it won’t change the flavor at all. Taste for seasonings.

Meanwhile, toast your slices of French bread in the oven. Once slightly browned, rub the garlic clove over the bread.

Ladle the onion soup into individual, oven proof bowels, and place a slice or two of the French bread on top. Cover the whole bowl with grated cheese. Repeat for the next bowls. Place the bowls on a baking sheet and place under the broiler until the cheese is melted and slightly brown, a few moments only.

Pull from the oven, and serve.

Makes 3-4 servings

Wing Weekend

Ahh, Football season. For some this means the next few months will be filled with fantasy, free agency and trades. For me, it is an excuse to eat junky appetizers washed down with beers on a Sunday afternoon. 

 There are so many instances, sitting around with friends, cheering or booing that I look back fondly upon. Like ordering 3 buckets (yes Buckets) of wings from a local chicken wing joint during the AFC championship, where guacamole and Oreos were the only break in wing consumption we had that day. Or meeting the actor who played Steve Urkel, who looked an awful lot like Stefan, at the Eagles bar in West Hollywood.  (Yes, I'm name dropping.)

I may have mentioned that I have a special weakness for appetizers. Frozen appetizers are the food I am most ashamed to admit that I love. The thing is, I know they are not even that good. I am a sucker for packaging and advertising. A commercial filled with people having fun and eating previously frozen pizza puffs, hooks me every time. And the siren call of appetizers at restaurants, lure me in to a false hope of deliciousness. Combo platter? Yes, with all the dipping sauces you have please.

In fact, after college when I was living in a house with a couple of girlfriends, we would have roommate happy hour. This entailed cheap very fruity “wine”, frozen appetizers and a good dose of America’s Next Top Model. Now, of course Joe will indulge me sometimes, but I can only get him to agree to 2 out of those three items. So I take full advantage of any opportunities that present themselves to indulge in tiny pre-meal bites.

Wings are the ultimate appetizer to me. Special enough to require some time and effort in preparation – or just a really great wing bar. But wings at home almost seem exotic. Should they be fried, or oven baked? And don’t even get me started with sauce options.

For me, wings should be tender and the meat should fall off the bones. You should not be able to eat wings daintily, and you should feel good about having carrots and celery in between bites of wings. So the next time you have an America’s Next Top Model marathon, or just need to sit on the couch and watch football for 5 hours straight, here is an easy, tasty wing recipe.

Tar Pit Wings
as adapted from Gourmet Cookbook

Be sure to foil the bottom of the pan. The sauce has a tendency to boil up in the oven, and will be a pain to clean if you don’t properly foil the pan. The sauce will also look like a lot, too much even, at the beginning of the baking process, but don’t worry it’ll all work out in the end.

1 lb chicken wings, split and wing tips removed
1/3 c. light soy sauce
1/3 c. dry red wine
1/8 c. sugar
1 tsp ground ginger
Black Pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 400°. Place wings in a single layer, in the bottom of a foiled roasting pan. Combine the soy sauce, wine and sugar in a small saucepan over medium heat. Bring to a simmer, and stir until the sugar is completely dissolved. Remove from heat and stir in ground ginger and black pepper. Pour sauce of the wings.

Bake wings for about 45 minutes, then turn the wings over. At this point about 1/2 the sauce should be left. Continue to bake for another hour and 10 minutes, or until the sauce is sticky and the wings are super tender.

Let the wings cool until you are able to handle them. Serve and enjoy!