Pancakes? No. DAMNCAKES. Like pancakes, but they're so good that God cast them out of the Garden HOURS before Eve took a bite of the apple. Who knows what might have happened if she'd found the damncakes first - we'd all probably be immortal space hippies by now, with knowledge of not just the difference between good and evil, but we'd also know Michelle Bachmann's true physical form.
What, you think she looks a probably-real-wild-in-bed Math teacher all the time? That's just to lull you into a false sense of voting for her.
Disclaimer: this post contains measurements. It's sort of unavoidable, considering it's at least partly about mixing pancake batter, and that's not something you want to fuck up. You'll end up with something that looks like a props department prank on the set of Breaking Bad. So, here we go, here we go, here we go.
2 cups all-purpose flour (whole wheat, if your feelin' nastay)
3/4 cup plain oatmeal
1/4 cup regular sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons baking pownder
2 tablespoons baking soda
2 teaspoons salt
almond extract
vanilla extract
handful of craisins (cranberry raisins, dumbass)
handful of semisweet chocolate chips
2 eggs
Alright. Mix all all your dry ingredients except the craisins and chocolate chips up together - you do not want all your baking soda lumped up in a corner and all your sugar lumped up in another. See above, regarding meth lab scene. So stir 'em up good. When you got it, crack y'r eggs, and chuck 'em in, then the craisins, chocolate, and about two shakes each of almond and vanilla extract (I'm assuming you've got the kind that come in bottles like tabasco sauce comes in. If not, well, use about the same amount as you would for the saliva of a good, contemptuous spit onto your worst enemy's expensive new boots).
You should have a good sunny-colored batter going here. Good. Get out the skillet, griddle, Mongol shield, whatever, and get it up to a little hotter than you'd use to cook eggs. Pour the batter in a little at a time, until you've got something that looks like pancakes which have stared at the Ark of the Covenant for too long. Don't flip 'em until you see bubbles forming and popping on the surface, and even then, lift up the bottoms of the pancakes and see if they're the right color. Note that, because of the ingredients that go into Damncakes, they're going to be a bit darker than normal pancakes, so even if you like yours really light and barely-golden, let them sit a little longer until they have kind of a caramel color to them.
When they're done, take them off the heat and put them on a plate. I shouldn't have to tell you what to do next.
This mix will yield you about 10 normal-goddamn-human-being-sized pancakes, or 6 IHOP-sized pancakes. Freeze what you don't eat, because if they're anything like normal pancakes, Damncakes are just as good when you reheat them after a few weeks.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Apples and Assholes Sauce/Stew/Soup/Whatever
You ever just sit down and think "I wish I were an asshole right now." Not, I mean, the thing that poop comes out of, but the kind of person who can walk down the street, whistle a jaunty tune, and then stick their leg out and clotheseline a health freak off their way-too-expensive mountain bike? Or the kind of person who carries a power drill with them for the sole purpose and spinning it loudly in the air whenever a stranger tries to ask you a question? Maybe you want to be the kind of person who includes the word "assholes" in the title of a post on cooking food that people will eat. Maybe you'll go down on all fours and bite the heads off of flowers that your elderly neighbor spent hours planting.
Regardless of your precise intentions, being an asshole is incredibly fun. It spits in the eye of enforced decency, it swings a 5-iron right into the balls of the society that keeps you from doing what you like when you like it, and it is a perfect sort of spiritual liberation. Of course, there are ways of being an asshole that actually make the world a better place. It's true.
For example - mix onions and apples together. What an asshole combination! Who in their right minds would eat something like that, those things don't go together, what are you trying to prove?
Too bad. I feel like being an asshole today, so that means I feel like mixing weird shit together. And, look, think about this - onions and apples are both sweet, crunchy, and mix extremely well with spices. Yet, typically whenever we want to start up a base for a stew or a sauce, we only ever use onions. Yes, apples have a sweeter, more powerful flavor than onions, but what if we want to use that to our advantage?
WE DO.
Alright. Get a pot, and get olive oil heating up. Wait until your kitchen smells like a Roman being gently, deliciously cremated. While this is happening, chop an onion in half, and then chop it into the smallest pieces you're capable of chopping. No, put the fancy onion chopper thing away, just get out a big, sharp knife, and chop as best you can. You can't use a knife, we can't do business. Because, after all, this isn't just a cooking blog, but a VIOLENCE blog, and seriously, have you ever tried murdering a nosy neighbor who saw what you keep in your basement with one of those press-chop doohickeys? Let me tell you, it's not easy, and it's no fun, and you'll ruin the press-chop doohickey anyway. Stick with a knife.
Got your onion chopped? Good. Crying? Good. Pretend to feel bad about breaking up with your ex while you cry, it'll help you feel justified in dumping their lazy, no-good, can't-do-that-thing-you-know-THAT-THING-you-really-like-in-bed, probably-sleeping-around-on-you-anyway HO-BAG. Then chop the apple, into not quite as small pieces. You can skin the apple first, if you want to, but I kinda like the skins of apples and tomatoes, so I tend to leave them in stuff I make. They lend a nice meatiness and sometimes a proper crunch to things. I like crunch. It's the short version of Crazy Lunch, which is often what I end up eating. Apple chopped? In it goes. Then, quarter a tomato, decide whether you're gonna leave the skin or seeds out (I kept them both), and then chuck them in as well. Stir the whole thing up, and let it get good and properly introduced to itself. And don't be afraid to cram your stirring spoon down and mash things up a tad, either.
Next, pour maybe three cups of V8 vegetable juice in there, and then a few glugs of red wine. Stir all that in, crank the heat up, and let the alcohol cook out of the wine. Keep that bastard stirring. When everything begins to take on kind of the same color (it'll be a properly autumnal clay red-brown), turn the heat down a bit, and season with as much ground white pepper as you like, and more garam marsala than you think you'll need. Stir all that in, and let it condense down, mashing it occasionally.
At this point, you can experiment a bit. Chicken or turkey? Chop those birds up and toss them in, let them cook in the sauce! Another apple, fresh this time and in larger chunks? Sure, what the hell, could make for a nice desert! Little heavy cream, or maybe an egg or two, to thicken things up? YUS. Do whatever the hell you feel like, you're an asshole, if someone tells you not to, insult them to their face until they cry.
I used a green apple for this, but if you're savvy on the different types apples and think you know a particular kind that would work best? Use it! Red, green, golden, who gives a shit? Hell, does this even HAVE to use apples? NO. I just liked the apples and assholes alliteration. You could chop and mash some pears, which would probably be simply amazing as a sauce over pork or a real fatty cut of beef; ever wonder what bananas would be like as a sauce element? Chop 'em up and chuck 'em in! If anyone plugs their nose at the idea of mixing onions and bananas, who cares? YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE. Relish it! Speaking of relish, I just realized this may not make an awful relish, if you're keen on making something like that. Put on a hotdog, eat it in front of your uptight boss at the office barbecue. Then quit your job and PUNCH YOUR BOSS IN THE FACE.
The Apples and Assholes recipe has one distinct advantage over most other examples of being an asshole - it doesn't have any nasty repercussions. In fact, it's probably good for you. Or something. Hell, I dunno, my body is a steaming mass of disease and disappointments, held together only by spite and hatred of and from others. So don't exactly take my words on that, right?
Regardless of your precise intentions, being an asshole is incredibly fun. It spits in the eye of enforced decency, it swings a 5-iron right into the balls of the society that keeps you from doing what you like when you like it, and it is a perfect sort of spiritual liberation. Of course, there are ways of being an asshole that actually make the world a better place. It's true.
For example - mix onions and apples together. What an asshole combination! Who in their right minds would eat something like that, those things don't go together, what are you trying to prove?
Too bad. I feel like being an asshole today, so that means I feel like mixing weird shit together. And, look, think about this - onions and apples are both sweet, crunchy, and mix extremely well with spices. Yet, typically whenever we want to start up a base for a stew or a sauce, we only ever use onions. Yes, apples have a sweeter, more powerful flavor than onions, but what if we want to use that to our advantage?
WE DO.
Alright. Get a pot, and get olive oil heating up. Wait until your kitchen smells like a Roman being gently, deliciously cremated. While this is happening, chop an onion in half, and then chop it into the smallest pieces you're capable of chopping. No, put the fancy onion chopper thing away, just get out a big, sharp knife, and chop as best you can. You can't use a knife, we can't do business. Because, after all, this isn't just a cooking blog, but a VIOLENCE blog, and seriously, have you ever tried murdering a nosy neighbor who saw what you keep in your basement with one of those press-chop doohickeys? Let me tell you, it's not easy, and it's no fun, and you'll ruin the press-chop doohickey anyway. Stick with a knife.
Got your onion chopped? Good. Crying? Good. Pretend to feel bad about breaking up with your ex while you cry, it'll help you feel justified in dumping their lazy, no-good, can't-do-that-thing-you-know-THAT-THING-you-really-like-in-bed, probably-sleeping-around-on-you-anyway HO-BAG. Then chop the apple, into not quite as small pieces. You can skin the apple first, if you want to, but I kinda like the skins of apples and tomatoes, so I tend to leave them in stuff I make. They lend a nice meatiness and sometimes a proper crunch to things. I like crunch. It's the short version of Crazy Lunch, which is often what I end up eating. Apple chopped? In it goes. Then, quarter a tomato, decide whether you're gonna leave the skin or seeds out (I kept them both), and then chuck them in as well. Stir the whole thing up, and let it get good and properly introduced to itself. And don't be afraid to cram your stirring spoon down and mash things up a tad, either.
Next, pour maybe three cups of V8 vegetable juice in there, and then a few glugs of red wine. Stir all that in, crank the heat up, and let the alcohol cook out of the wine. Keep that bastard stirring. When everything begins to take on kind of the same color (it'll be a properly autumnal clay red-brown), turn the heat down a bit, and season with as much ground white pepper as you like, and more garam marsala than you think you'll need. Stir all that in, and let it condense down, mashing it occasionally.
At this point, you can experiment a bit. Chicken or turkey? Chop those birds up and toss them in, let them cook in the sauce! Another apple, fresh this time and in larger chunks? Sure, what the hell, could make for a nice desert! Little heavy cream, or maybe an egg or two, to thicken things up? YUS. Do whatever the hell you feel like, you're an asshole, if someone tells you not to, insult them to their face until they cry.
I used a green apple for this, but if you're savvy on the different types apples and think you know a particular kind that would work best? Use it! Red, green, golden, who gives a shit? Hell, does this even HAVE to use apples? NO. I just liked the apples and assholes alliteration. You could chop and mash some pears, which would probably be simply amazing as a sauce over pork or a real fatty cut of beef; ever wonder what bananas would be like as a sauce element? Chop 'em up and chuck 'em in! If anyone plugs their nose at the idea of mixing onions and bananas, who cares? YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE. Relish it! Speaking of relish, I just realized this may not make an awful relish, if you're keen on making something like that. Put on a hotdog, eat it in front of your uptight boss at the office barbecue. Then quit your job and PUNCH YOUR BOSS IN THE FACE.
The Apples and Assholes recipe has one distinct advantage over most other examples of being an asshole - it doesn't have any nasty repercussions. In fact, it's probably good for you. Or something. Hell, I dunno, my body is a steaming mass of disease and disappointments, held together only by spite and hatred of and from others. So don't exactly take my words on that, right?
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Ambersbane - To Summer, to Youth, to Music
So I'm a teenager, I'm hanging out with my teenager friends, and there's alcohol involved. Lots of alcohol - not as in copious amounts of one or two brands of beer and a few bottles of wine, but say, a bottle each of just about anything you can imagine - six different kinds of flavored vodka, types of schnapps that I didn't even know existed, bourbon, brandy, and a bottle of scotch. I remember looking at the scotch and thinking "no, that stuffs too heavy for me." I also remembering hearing a whisper in my mind, saying "not yet... not yet. But soon."
Five years later, Johnnie Walker came into my life.
But this isn't about a scotch mix. This isn't a mix that's particularly classy, or even all that strong - it's a drink mix created by an adolescent boy who is acutely aware that there is a larger world out there past small-town Iowa, but who had no idea what it might look, smell, sound or taste like. It's been refined, and modified, and I hope improved, but the core of the recipe is one of exuberance, of "Do Anything" experimentation. Its a drink that tastes the way your favorite pop song from the summer of whatever year you lost your virginity in sounds like - probably not that complex, probably a little too sweet, and maybe it doesn't hold up to time with repeated tastings (listening), but for what it is, for the time its meant to exist in for you, its perfect.
This drink is to your taste buds what "Alex Chilton," by the Replacements, is to your ears.
So. We're in the basement, and we're trying various liquors, and trying them in different combinations. Most of them were terrible, and the ones that weren't were ones we'd heard of before - Rum Runners, Screwdrivers, White Russians, things like that. Kid stuff. We weren't trying to conduct alchemy here, and we were playing as much as anything else.
But then, I found it. Just the right combination of liquors and additives, in the right proportions. Mixed in a glass, then poured into Dixe cup shots. They were passed around. Maybe we should have made a toast to youth, but we were too young to know that. So we shot them back.
The only one who didn't like it was my friend Amber. Instantly, the drink had a name.
So here's what you do:
You'll need two different kinds of vodka, a decent-quality plain vodka (I've made it with everything from Svedka to Grey Goose, so its really up to you and your wallet), a cherry-flavored vodka (UV has worked the best for this, though there are plenty of brands I have yet to try), Kahlua, and hazelnut flavoring syrup, lightunsweetened cream, as well as about two handfuls of ice (chips would be better than cubes).
Important - do NOT substitute cherry flavoring syrup for the cherry vodka. It makes the drink intolerably sweet, and the vodka acts to both cut the drinks actual density, as well as add a little extra kick. I also think it provides a better aftertaste than cherry syrup. Also, cherry syrup just really looks like congealed blood to me. I get them confused sometimes.
Hmm. That would explain why that one batch came out salty. It would also explain where Karen, and those twenty minutes I seem to have lost, got off to. Ahh, memories.
In a mixing glass, throw in three shots of plain vodka, one shot of cherry vodka, about a tablespoon and a half of Kahlua, and two teaspoons of hazelnut syrup, and about half a cup of cream. Stir the liquid ingredients together by themselves first with a spoon (make sure you get a good whirlpool going), and then add the ice chips and shake it like it's the last high school dance you'll ever go to and you want people to remember you for something besides that time you fell asleep in Chem I and woke up with streamers of snot running between your nose and the lab table.
Let the ice melt - this is why you want chips, rather than cubes, because it'll take longer for them to melt and they'll do that nasty layered separation thing, and even when you mix it back together, nobody wants to drink anything that ever looked like that. The ice will have chilled the glass (ideally, you should get a bit of condensation on the sides - especially if its summer. And really, this is a summer drink, even as thick as it is), and it will have thinned it out a bit. Since Ambersbane is meant to be a shooter drink, thickness is a bit of a concern, and you don't want a milkshake by the end of this - think the density (but not the texture) of pulpy orange juice. If you don't like pulpy orange juice, you and I can't ever hang out together. Pour drinks into shot glasses (you'll have enough for plenty of shots, or a shot each for plenty of people).
Don't make our mistake. Do a toast, for anything. To youth, to joy, to summer, to love, to the fading hours of Black Friday when everyone has just gotten off work, to each other, to yourselves, to the future. Ambersbane is for celebrating. It's too sweet, too thick, and too young-blooded for anything else.
Musical accompaniment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8XR6nrSV3k
Five years later, Johnnie Walker came into my life.
But this isn't about a scotch mix. This isn't a mix that's particularly classy, or even all that strong - it's a drink mix created by an adolescent boy who is acutely aware that there is a larger world out there past small-town Iowa, but who had no idea what it might look, smell, sound or taste like. It's been refined, and modified, and I hope improved, but the core of the recipe is one of exuberance, of "Do Anything" experimentation. Its a drink that tastes the way your favorite pop song from the summer of whatever year you lost your virginity in sounds like - probably not that complex, probably a little too sweet, and maybe it doesn't hold up to time with repeated tastings (listening), but for what it is, for the time its meant to exist in for you, its perfect.
This drink is to your taste buds what "Alex Chilton," by the Replacements, is to your ears.
So. We're in the basement, and we're trying various liquors, and trying them in different combinations. Most of them were terrible, and the ones that weren't were ones we'd heard of before - Rum Runners, Screwdrivers, White Russians, things like that. Kid stuff. We weren't trying to conduct alchemy here, and we were playing as much as anything else.
But then, I found it. Just the right combination of liquors and additives, in the right proportions. Mixed in a glass, then poured into Dixe cup shots. They were passed around. Maybe we should have made a toast to youth, but we were too young to know that. So we shot them back.
The only one who didn't like it was my friend Amber. Instantly, the drink had a name.
So here's what you do:
You'll need two different kinds of vodka, a decent-quality plain vodka (I've made it with everything from Svedka to Grey Goose, so its really up to you and your wallet), a cherry-flavored vodka (UV has worked the best for this, though there are plenty of brands I have yet to try), Kahlua, and hazelnut flavoring syrup, lightunsweetened cream, as well as about two handfuls of ice (chips would be better than cubes).
Important - do NOT substitute cherry flavoring syrup for the cherry vodka. It makes the drink intolerably sweet, and the vodka acts to both cut the drinks actual density, as well as add a little extra kick. I also think it provides a better aftertaste than cherry syrup. Also, cherry syrup just really looks like congealed blood to me. I get them confused sometimes.
Hmm. That would explain why that one batch came out salty. It would also explain where Karen, and those twenty minutes I seem to have lost, got off to. Ahh, memories.
In a mixing glass, throw in three shots of plain vodka, one shot of cherry vodka, about a tablespoon and a half of Kahlua, and two teaspoons of hazelnut syrup, and about half a cup of cream. Stir the liquid ingredients together by themselves first with a spoon (make sure you get a good whirlpool going), and then add the ice chips and shake it like it's the last high school dance you'll ever go to and you want people to remember you for something besides that time you fell asleep in Chem I and woke up with streamers of snot running between your nose and the lab table.
Let the ice melt - this is why you want chips, rather than cubes, because it'll take longer for them to melt and they'll do that nasty layered separation thing, and even when you mix it back together, nobody wants to drink anything that ever looked like that. The ice will have chilled the glass (ideally, you should get a bit of condensation on the sides - especially if its summer. And really, this is a summer drink, even as thick as it is), and it will have thinned it out a bit. Since Ambersbane is meant to be a shooter drink, thickness is a bit of a concern, and you don't want a milkshake by the end of this - think the density (but not the texture) of pulpy orange juice. If you don't like pulpy orange juice, you and I can't ever hang out together. Pour drinks into shot glasses (you'll have enough for plenty of shots, or a shot each for plenty of people).
Don't make our mistake. Do a toast, for anything. To youth, to joy, to summer, to love, to the fading hours of Black Friday when everyone has just gotten off work, to each other, to yourselves, to the future. Ambersbane is for celebrating. It's too sweet, too thick, and too young-blooded for anything else.
Musical accompaniment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8XR6nrSV3k
Friday, January 14, 2011
Pasta de Gonzales Rapido
Just a quick one today, folks. Sorry, I don't have time for foreplay right now, and frankly, the cuddling gave me a rash last time. You have GOT to shave your legs, dear reader, or wear wool stockings or something.
Mmmm. Wool stockings.
So, pasta and noodles only belong in Mediterranean or East Asian recipes, to be included with only ingredients from those regions. There are a few weird things like spaetzle and dumplings, but those are the exceptions that prove the rule. And if a culture never developed what professional chefs would call pasta, then you should never use their ingredients with a pasta dish. It just wouldn't be right.
*Terrible, frightening sounds of screaming and power tools. Ambulance sirens in the distance, which then abruptly, and unsettlingly, stop.*
Aha. Forgive me, that was my evil, purist twin. He's dead now. I killed him. I killed him with my hate.
Alright. This recipe is stupid easy, dirt cheap, and mad quick. Its not for the pasta purist, but then, this site isn't for any kind of purist at all, so fuck 'em. Here are your ingredients: some kind of wide, flat pasta - fettuccine, mafalde (square or rectangle-shaped), lasagnette (lasagna's cute, but easily-pissed-off, little sister), even some shaped pasta like farfalle (bowties) might work. If you can get wide rice noodles, that would be double-top-best. For this recipe's maiden voyage, I used wavy egg noodles, the kind that comes in a back and you can buy ten pounds of it with a wink and a smile. Get 'em boiling with a pot of well-salted water. Salt isn't necessary for most pasta dishes, and the taste of the saltwater is usually lost with any sauce that you put with the pasta, but in this case, I think it's important. Don't be shy with the salt, either, drop half a cup or more into the water. If you live near the ocean, just go out, steal some seawater, and use that. I mean, we can all use a little toxic chemicals in our system. It builds characters.
A quick note - put the salt into the water before it boils, DO NOT PUT IT IN WITH THE PASTA. Your water will turn into a foamy, angry mess that will do its best to kill you and your loved ones. It's like giving the water rabies, so let me put it this way: AVOID THE WRATH OF BOILING CUJO WATER.
Saltwater boiling? Good. Grab a skillet or fry-pan or something, nothing too huge cuz you're just not gonna need it, and it'll take longer to heat up than necessary. Put a tiny bit of oil in there, and keep the heat relatively low, far less than you'd need for making a stir-fry. Think scrambled eggs, here. Now, get out some chopped green chilies, about a handful. Now, I used a tiny can of chilies, and that worked perfectly - in fact, the preservative liquid helped distribute the heat more evenly. Fresh chilies will work just fine, though, in fact probably better, so if you got it, use it. Also get out some spinach, a big handful of it. When the skillet's ready, chuck your green stuff in, and keep it moving. Get that spinach wilted, and grin with terrible joy as they scream for you to stop. Don't - the spinach is trying to trick you, and it deserves its fate. When its wilted, grab about a thumb-sized amount of cream cheese - unsweetened only, please. The sweetness in cream cheese you'd use for confections will throw off the great spicy flavor you'll get from the chilies.
Your water should be boiling by now, so chuck in the pasta. Toss the cream cheese into the skillet, mush it down, and spread it around evenly. As soon, like, THE EXACT SECOND the cream cheese goes from a nugget to a puddle, get the chilies, spinach and cheese off the heat, and keep it stirring so it doesn't stick to the skillet. Watch the pasta, and as soon as its done, drain it, then throw it, and the skillet's contents, right back into the pot you boiled the pasta in, and mix it all up. Remember how you stirred like a motherfucker for the beer sauce? STIR LIKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER.
When the pasta is evenly coated (it won't be a thick coating - this is almost like glazing the pasta, with the chilies and spinach just sorta hanging around) get it into bowls, and crack some black pepper over it, if it's not spicy enough for ya yet. You can add cheese if you like, but I honestly don't think this needs it.
This whole recipe took me no longer than fifteen minutes, and the ingredients are cheaper than your Aunt Edna. You really have no excuse for not making this and serving it to everyone you know.
Mmmm. Wool stockings.
So, pasta and noodles only belong in Mediterranean or East Asian recipes, to be included with only ingredients from those regions. There are a few weird things like spaetzle and dumplings, but those are the exceptions that prove the rule. And if a culture never developed what professional chefs would call pasta, then you should never use their ingredients with a pasta dish. It just wouldn't be right.
*Terrible, frightening sounds of screaming and power tools. Ambulance sirens in the distance, which then abruptly, and unsettlingly, stop.*
Aha. Forgive me, that was my evil, purist twin. He's dead now. I killed him. I killed him with my hate.
Alright. This recipe is stupid easy, dirt cheap, and mad quick. Its not for the pasta purist, but then, this site isn't for any kind of purist at all, so fuck 'em. Here are your ingredients: some kind of wide, flat pasta - fettuccine, mafalde (square or rectangle-shaped), lasagnette (lasagna's cute, but easily-pissed-off, little sister), even some shaped pasta like farfalle (bowties) might work. If you can get wide rice noodles, that would be double-top-best. For this recipe's maiden voyage, I used wavy egg noodles, the kind that comes in a back and you can buy ten pounds of it with a wink and a smile. Get 'em boiling with a pot of well-salted water. Salt isn't necessary for most pasta dishes, and the taste of the saltwater is usually lost with any sauce that you put with the pasta, but in this case, I think it's important. Don't be shy with the salt, either, drop half a cup or more into the water. If you live near the ocean, just go out, steal some seawater, and use that. I mean, we can all use a little toxic chemicals in our system. It builds characters.
A quick note - put the salt into the water before it boils, DO NOT PUT IT IN WITH THE PASTA. Your water will turn into a foamy, angry mess that will do its best to kill you and your loved ones. It's like giving the water rabies, so let me put it this way: AVOID THE WRATH OF BOILING CUJO WATER.
Saltwater boiling? Good. Grab a skillet or fry-pan or something, nothing too huge cuz you're just not gonna need it, and it'll take longer to heat up than necessary. Put a tiny bit of oil in there, and keep the heat relatively low, far less than you'd need for making a stir-fry. Think scrambled eggs, here. Now, get out some chopped green chilies, about a handful. Now, I used a tiny can of chilies, and that worked perfectly - in fact, the preservative liquid helped distribute the heat more evenly. Fresh chilies will work just fine, though, in fact probably better, so if you got it, use it. Also get out some spinach, a big handful of it. When the skillet's ready, chuck your green stuff in, and keep it moving. Get that spinach wilted, and grin with terrible joy as they scream for you to stop. Don't - the spinach is trying to trick you, and it deserves its fate. When its wilted, grab about a thumb-sized amount of cream cheese - unsweetened only, please. The sweetness in cream cheese you'd use for confections will throw off the great spicy flavor you'll get from the chilies.
Your water should be boiling by now, so chuck in the pasta. Toss the cream cheese into the skillet, mush it down, and spread it around evenly. As soon, like, THE EXACT SECOND the cream cheese goes from a nugget to a puddle, get the chilies, spinach and cheese off the heat, and keep it stirring so it doesn't stick to the skillet. Watch the pasta, and as soon as its done, drain it, then throw it, and the skillet's contents, right back into the pot you boiled the pasta in, and mix it all up. Remember how you stirred like a motherfucker for the beer sauce? STIR LIKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER.
When the pasta is evenly coated (it won't be a thick coating - this is almost like glazing the pasta, with the chilies and spinach just sorta hanging around) get it into bowls, and crack some black pepper over it, if it's not spicy enough for ya yet. You can add cheese if you like, but I honestly don't think this needs it.
This whole recipe took me no longer than fifteen minutes, and the ingredients are cheaper than your Aunt Edna. You really have no excuse for not making this and serving it to everyone you know.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)