nada más que tapas y fiestas!
Throughout the two-plus years that I’ve been writing this blog, I’ve never dedicated a post exclusively to yogurt. I’ve used it as an ingredient here and there, sure, but it’s never played a leading role. That’s not acceptable. Not for a Mediterranean food blog, at least. I plan on changing that today.
I don’t know where to begin. This is the problem with neglecting a blog for more than a week. It really is. If you have a blog, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Carelessness quickly turns into neglect and finally begins to fringe on complete abandonment. I would never let it get to that.
The last time I signed off, my camera was broken and I was eating gelato — lots of gelato — to diffuse the pain. It worked. Actually, my mom says that if there’s anyone who could get through to insurance companies, it’s me. I wasn’t about to abandon my camera. I called almost daily. In the end, after plenty of hoop-jumping and legal rigmarole, the hotel’s insurance settled and reimbursed me for the damages. It was a relief, sure, but there’s more.
If you knew the kind of things I’ve been eating the past ten days, you’d be appalled. After I made the Moroccan chicken and olives dish a couple weeks ago, I carefully set aside some left overs and packed up my entire life into a 14-foot U-Haul. After that, my will to cook was nowhere to be found. I’m sure it was hidden somewhere behind the fortress of boxes that consumed my new apartment, but, for the time being, I was happy with my daily bowls of cereal and occasional sandwiches. A diet devoid of fruits and vegetables – like I said, appalled.
“Tony, you just ate 1200 calories worth of bread.”
-Jess Park
I rediscovered Jim Lahey’s no-knead bread recipe a couple weeks ago. It was Wednesday evening and there it was, idly sitting in my RSS feed, waiting to be double-clicked: Faster No-Knead Bread. Mark Bittman had just blogged about a quicker variation of the original recipe he featured in the NYT in 2006. I never got around to making this bread when it first came out. Originally, I sided with the skeptical foodies who wanted no part in this trendy no-knead fad. For me, the foundation of bread was all in the traditional kneading techniques and no post in the NYT was going to change that. But, many successful minimalist recipes later, Mark had made a believer out of me. I took Mark’s recent post as a sign of divine culinary intervention and decided to give this no-knead method a try.
Spanish tapas have been on my mind ever since I made those croquetas the other day. They were a hit in the house and the leftovers treated me well (at least while they lasted). Once the last croqueta was gone though, my stomach went into what I’ve come to call, “pregnant woman mode.” Pregnant women may claim to have it bad, but a foodie-craving is no joking matter. I wanted more tapas, stat.
I hate frying; and I’m sure I’m not alone when I say that I avoid frying like the plague. Don’t get me wrong, I can always enjoy a hearty batch of chicken wings or a few fried calamari, just not in my (tidy) kitchen. Whenever I do fry, which is rare, I make sure that it’s something completely worth the extra calories and additional cleanup at the end. These croquettes, my friends, are worth it – worth every single drop of splattering oil and all the calories in the world.
Now, more than ever, chickens and cows are granted a few more days to graze the fields in order for alligators and kangaroos to take center plate. However, despite this overwhelming rush to serve the more exotic, I was recently disappointed (twice) after ordering a simple appetizer of fried calamari. I thought these restaurants played it safe by omitting, what I claim to be, the tastiest part of the squid – its tentacles. And I make this claim not because I’m trying to compensate for my long overdue appearance on Fear Factor, but instead do so with concrete culinary evidence on my side: the tentacles have more surface area, which makes them crispier, which in my book translates into yummier.
Restaurant Week is an epic, 7-day culinary affair that takes place in every fortunate metropolitan city from Los Angeles to New York. During this event an assortment the city’s finest, chic and most trendy restaurants offer a selection of their menu at an unreasonably low, fixed price.
I was in Washington D.C. this past summer when the gastronomic festivities began. Friends were contacted, reservations were made, and we immediately began eating our way through the seemingly endless list of fabulous restaurants.
Us college students are often burdened with tons of school work, lack of time and, of course, our social obligation to party. These four (sometimes five) years have marked a period in people’s lives when refrigerators are primarily used to stock drinks and pantries sadly store endless supplies of ramen noodles or mac & cheese – the token caloric providers. Aware of these pressing circumstances, I wanted to come up with an hors d’oeuvre that would be practical for college students, yet fabulous for any swanky dinner party.
