Refried Beans.

It's astonishing, the amount of invective hurled at this simple dish.  Identity and food can be so overwhelming,and, of course, the basis of ethnic stereotypes and slurs.

However, this is a dish I embrace. 

Three cups of home made beans, including liquid.
In a deep skillet, heat one to two tablespoons of lard. (Of course you can use vegetable oil, you can even doctor it later with butter and milk--but there is no substitute for this animal fat.)
When hot, turn off the heat, stand back, and pour in the beans. When the sizzling has stopped,
raise the heat to medium.  Take your potato masher, and start mashing.  I personally like them fairly well pulverized.  Allow the liquid to bubble away, to your preferred consistency. Thick or thin, it's your call.

The beans should already be well-seasoned, but if they seem too bland, add salt.

I really have been quite thick about comfort foods, not understanding ice cream and macaroni and cheese as go-tos.  And yet, if I think about it, refried beans made just right, on a hot flour tortilla, with a dollop of sour cream, is my Valium.

Mother's Day Plans

In an alternate universe my day would include:
reading novels
vodka
and
cigarettes

(Please don't tell the kids--)

In the official universe it will include deli fixings from Billy's in Glendale--and some form of drama, to be determined.

Easter Bunny Wishes

The Easter Bunny can bring me plenty of these, by the crate.

Knock knock
Who's there?
Ether
Ether who?
Ether Bunny.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
Samoa.
Samoa who?
Samoa Ether Bunnies.
Knock, knock.
Who's there?!
Consumption.
Consumption who?
Consumption be done about all these Ether Bunnies?!?!

Ah, yes,  The simple things.  Malted milk balls and corny knock knock jokes always hit the spot for me.

Last Gasp, East Egg

I came across this online at the LA Times.  Apparently they are demolishing the 20,000 square foot
mansion that was said to have been the model for Fitzgerald's novel.  A photographer took a number of evocative shots, that you may enjoy.  Here.  Click for the slide show.

What does this have to do with food?  It made me think of feasts past and feasts future.

Currently Reading

Goddess Margaret, in the LA Times, right here.
 btw, I think not only did they like her writing, but I think they really really liked her head shot!

Weekend Cocktail for a lazy Evening

Since my daughter moved to Manhattan I've been trying to acquire the taste.  Mixologists recommend rye, so I've been buying rye bourbon.  I like the sweet, the bitter, and the iciness.

However, before a swinging artistic event, three of us stopped into Fraiche, a trendy/swank restaurant in the ever-aspiring-to-be-somewhere Culver City.  This time the bartender used orange peel, searing it with a match to intensify the aromatics.  I sipped, savored, and approved. So did AH.  Later in the week I tried this at home, and this is what I came up with.





Fill your shaker halfway with ice.
Add 2 ounces bourbon ( I really like Buffalo Trace or Bulleit)
Add a splash of angoustura bitters
Then a splash of Regan's orange bitters.
Add one ounce sweet vermouth.
Swizzle, and let it sit in the cocktail shaker, so the drink chills completely, without getting watery.
Pull out your previously chilled cocktail glass, strain drink into glass. Garnish with orange peel.

And relax!  Your taxes are filed.  Aren't they?
If not, sip celebrate that this year you can wait until Monday--

Constant Cravings

Salty, nutty, with a soul-satisfying crunch, I buy these at my scale's peril.
Once the bag is opened, they are quickly decimated.  How 'bout you?
What disappears around your house?

Salad Days

As I kid I dreamed of the salad dressing that Lucy Ricardo pitched.  I knew, just like everyone else who watched it, what it tasted like: fabulous!

The other night I was out, and my husband, inspired by restaurants that drizzle bleu cheese dressing over hunks of iceberg or romaine, dug up this recipe.  When I got home I had to taste it, for quality control, of course.  In an instant I realized, this was it.  This was that dressing I could practically taste, years and years ago.

Mush 4 ounces gorgonzola or bleu cheese.
Blend in half a cup of mayonnaise.
Drizzle in up to a cup of buttermilk, to desired salad dressing consistency.  Season aggressively with salt and pepper. 

Drizzle, a la Smitty's, over ice berg, or, a la Beckham over romaine.
Garnish with finely chopped tomatoes.

If, for some reason, doesn't live up to your expectations, try it again, except this time have someone else make it. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks.  Because then, it's like magic.