Future rock star, hall of famer, pizza eater.

For a few years, our favorite dinner-leftovers-for-lunch meal has been bun, the tasty Vietnamese noodle dish with fresh vegetables and herbs, cellophane noodles, and grilled shrimp or chicken. It’s fresh tasting, flavorful, spicy, tangy, a little sweet, and lots of of great textures. We’ve made it probably a hundred times, and we never get sick of it. Sometimes, though, you need to change things up a bit. Using the same idea, same part of the world, but changing the country of origin, we’ve come up with a new favorite. Soba.

Soba are the Japanese buckwheat noodles, usually served cold with some sort of sesame dressing. Like bun, the majority of the dish is cold, with most of the prep work being chopping and mixing of the dressing. Not really happy with most of the recipes that I found online, I made up my own hybrid version. It starts with the noodles of course, about 2/3 lb. for four servings. Boiled until just tender and then shocked under cold water to stop the cooking. They’re dressed with a dressing made from 2 parts soy sauce, 1 part rice wine vinegar, 1 part sesame oil, and a little sugar, and a good handful of thinly sliced scallions. The vegetables in this dish are thinly julienned carrots and finely chopped Japanese cucumber, both pickled quickly in rice wine vinegar, sugar, and a little salt. They add a nice crunch and tanginess to the bowl. Keeping things on the light side, some lightly pan-fried tofu, cooked until just a little crispy and finished with some soy sauce, tops things off. A drizzle of chili sauce and a final sprinkling of toasted sesame seeds are there solely to get stuck in your teeth.

It’s a simple and quick recipe, but it packs some serious flavors and textures. You can tailor is to your own tastes, using whatever sort of vegetables or protein that you want. I think we’ll stick with this version for a while, or until we get sick of it and have to move on to another country.

• I love long weekends. And this one was especially uneventful. You know, except for the turkey and all.
• My family makes fun of me for taking forever to make decisions and make big purchases, but in reality, that’s not the case. When I know what I want and I see it for the right price, I never hesitate. After about five years of saying that we’d get new bedroom furniture, it took less than a day of actual looking to find what we wanted. The fact that the pieces that we bought were mismarked and we ended up saving about $500 didn’t hurt either. Score.
• Favorite new show of the week: Man vs. Wild. From the website: “In each episode of Man vs. Wild, Bear strands himself in popular wilderness destinations where tourists often find themselves lost or in danger. As he finds his way back to civilization, he demonstrates local survival techniques, including escaping quicksand in the Moab Desert, navigating dangerous jungle rivers in Costa Rica, crossing ravines in the Alps and surviving sharks off Hawaii.” It’s completely ridiculous and fascinating. I watched an episode where he parachutes into the middle of the French Alps and shows you how to protect your self from falling into an ice crevice, falling into a frozen lake, catching a fish by ice fishing (and eating the fish live while shoving his fingers in its gills to break its spine), eating maggots, building an ice cave, and on and on. Watching a guy purposely throw himself into a frozen lake while talking about the three ways he could die while his body temperature starts to drop and he starts to not feel his legs before pulling himself out, stripping down naked, and using snow to “dry” the water off his body is unbelievable. In instant Season Pass.
• My home improvement project of the weekend was trying to figure out why our back hallway to the basement is so frigging cold and trying to fix it. After some weatherstripping and caulking, hopefully, it will be better. This, of course, led to a day full of “caulk jokes”. I love caulk! It started with asking an employee at Home Depot, “Caulk?” Nothing makes me giggle like caulk.
• November 27th, and I’m still grilling.
• Even with all of the pizza that we make at home, sometimes, you just need to go back to the old neighborhood for some Armando’s.

What’s better than a holiday that is purely about eating. Sure, there’s the whole family thing and giving thanks and football and all of that junk, but all anyone really cares about is the food. More specifically, the sides and gravy. Does anyone ever really get excited about the turkey? Is there such a thing as a really fantastic bird or are you just satisfied that it’s not overcooked and dry (this does not include deep fried turkeys, which, I’m told, are fantastic)? In reality, the turkey is just a vehicle for the gravy. Personally. my favorite thing is the stuffing. Really, do you ever have stuffing any other time than on Thanksgiving? Mashed potatoes? You have those all the time. Roasted vegetables? Ditto. Green bean casserole? Well, I really don’t ever need that. Desserts? Well, pumpkin pie and apple pie just don’t really get me too excited. Stuffing is where it’s at. I hope I get to cook Thanksgiving at some point, because despite enjoying a really basic stuffing, I’d love to try one made with cornbread and sausage or bacon, or with some chestnuts and sage, or any of the variations that I’ve seen over the years, but never tasted. The people who cook Thanksgiving year in and year out consistently make the same dishes year after year without any variations, and it’s hard to blame them. People expect certain things every year, and god forbid you change your mashed potato recipe! Unless asked, I just stay out of the kitchen and let them do their thing. I’ll get my chance eventually. Happy stuffing day!

Most of you know that I spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen, but it’s rare to ever find me doing any sort of baking. It’s said that there are two types of people: bakers and cooks. I am most certainly the latter, and I can figure out something to do with whatever’s in the fridge and a well-stocked pantry. Give me a bowl of flour, a dozen eggs, some baking powder and butter, and I’m completely lost. Sure, anyone can follow a recipe for cookies or a cake, but for me, it’s not fun at all. Ok, mix the dry ingredients, then beat some eggs with sugar, then add the eggs one at a time, then slowly add the dry ingredients. There’s no sounds, no smells, no feedback whatsoever. It’s just following directions without any real understanding of why you’re doing what you’re doing, why things are done in a certain order, or exactly why sometimes I need baking powder and sometimes backing soda. Sure, I like the final results (sometimes), but the process just isn’t that enjoyable. There’s an exact science to it all, and frankly, I get enough science at work.

Bread is pretty much just as baffling to me. All of the business with yeast and starters and fermentation and gluten and proofing and punching down and proofing again and all of that. It’s such a science, although less precise than dessert baking. Besides playing with my parents’ little used bread machine (remember when everyone was buying bread machines back in the 80’s?) I’ve never attempted to bake bread at home. I suppose I’m a bit of a bread snob, and being able to buy some unbelievable artisanal breads nearby always left me thinking that any home attempts, without the commercial steam-injected ovens that are often necessary, was sort of pointless. Yes, I know I’ve spent years working on my pizza dough, but despite my recent happiness with it, I don’t think that I’ll ever really be satisfied until I’m using a wood fired pizza oven.

Then, along came Jim Lahey’s No-Knead Bread Recipe and everything changed. Blogger and bakers all of the land hauled out their Le Creuset’s and got mixing. And waiting. And more waiting. And then finally baking. The recipe requires almost no effort, and as the article states, a four year old could master it. The ingredients (flour, water, salt, yeast) are mixed in a bowl until they come together (about a minute), you cover it with plastic wrap, and then wait. For 18 hours. After a quick shaping and another two hour rise, you dump the loaf into a enameled cast iron pot that’s been heating up in a 450 degree oven and let it bake, covered for 30 minutes. After 30 minutes, you take off the lid to let it bake for another 30 minutes and get nice and browned and crusty. That’s it. Ok, so it takes a little advanced planning, but it literally takes about 3 minutes of actual effort to make this.

So how did it come out? Outstanding. Beautiful crust, springy well-formed holes in the crumb, great flavor from the long fermentation. What more could you ask for? We took a chance on the first loaf and added a handful of Kalamata olives to the dough after the initial 18 hour rise. Despite a less than stellar distribution of the olives, it worked out nicely.

So what to do with a perfectly baked loaf of olive bread? Eat it, of course. A slice of it with some Amish butter that I just discovered was pretty much the perfect way to appreciate it, but we weren’t about to stop there. For dinner? Panini, of course. The first with tomato, basil and fresh mozzarella, and the second with prosciutto, arugula, and mozzarella. They were, of course, terrible. Just kidding. Will we be making this again? Hell yes. All of you people who are afraid of carbs, get over it. Bread is good. Bread is great. Now go bake some of your own.

• I’ll have a longer post about this tomorrow, but the no-knead bread experiment was a smashing success. This bread is taking over the world. Yes, it’s that good. More to come.
• I love how everyone comments about how short my hair is right now. I guess I’m officially a shaggy-haired dude so the short ‘do comes as a surprise. No worries, folks. The long hair will be back shortly.
• Brunch with the world famous Ianqui and SuperG. Always a pleasure.
• Not to get all gross or anything, but you know the only thing worse than having to search around in the dark with a flashlight at 5AM while still completely asleep and trying to find George’s poop? Having to pull the poop out of him because it’s stuck. You know what’s even worse than that? Stepping in that poop. Ew.
• Speaking of George, he is completely obsessed with pumpkin bread. He’ll be sound asleep and as soon as a piece of pumpkin bread comes within 20 feet of him, he bolts to his feet and goes straight for it. And he does not give up until he gets a bite. It’s literally like a switch flips in him and he becomes a completely different dog. We may have to have an intervention and send him to puppy rehab.
• A couple of new shows of interest this week. The first is Big Spender, a show about this financial guru who visits people in serious debt who are living a completely reckless financial lifestyle and he completely tears them apart while trying to help them get their lives in order. These people have some serious spending issues, and he goes in with some tough love and humiliates them into mending their ways. Completely fascinating. The other show about fixing things is Junk Brothers. These expert furniture restorers drive around on trash night and grab pieces that people are throwing away. They then bring them back to their shop and completely rejuvenate/pimp-out/transform the furniture into really cool things, bring them back to the house that they grabbed them from, ring the doorbell, and run off before the people can see them. They film the reactions of the people who are always really confused and really excited and quickly haul their furniture back into their house. It helps to watch the show on fast forward so you don’t have to listen to the brothers’ annoying cheesy banter and awful Canadian accents. Eh?
• I really like short weeks.
• Every once in a while, I have to vent about people who really irritate me. Generally speaking, I don’t really like a lot of people who I see in public, which is sort of bad. The latest makes me want to say mean things to pretty girls in big ugly boots. Yes, the Ugg Girls. You know those ridiculous looking big furry boots that every spoiled teenage (and older) girl loves to wear. Hey, I get it. They’re really comfy and warm. But for crissakes, they’re wearing them when it’s 60 degrees out. Here’s a hint. When it’s warm enough that you don’t need a jacket, it’s too warm to be wearing your Uggs. And do you have to tuck your jeans into them so that everyone can see that you’re wearing expensive furry boots? Don’t even get me started on the ones that look like Eskimo boots, with all sorts of fur and things hanging off of them. Please make this trend end soon. Last year, the lovely Suse and I would punch each other whenever we’d spot girls wearing ridiculous boots. There were a lot of punches thrown last year, and that girl can throw a mean jab.

A few random thoughts and observations:

• I don’t particularly like black jellybeans, but when you eat them along with another flavor, they’re really good. Give it a try.
• We will definitely be making this bread this weekend. I’ve never been much of a baker, but the looks and ease of this bread is too good to pass up.
• For the past few years, my apple eating has been limited solely to macoun apples. I love them, but they’re local and they only last about a month. After a month, all of the ones at the store are soft and bruised and mealy. This week, I gave my old standby, the braeburn, a try again. Let me tell you, that’s one great apple. They’re available year round, and they have that ultra-crunchy and sweet flavor that I love. I know blood orange season is coming up soon, but I think these apples will stick around for a while.
• The creepy looking fruit pictured about is called a Buddha’s Hand, and we spotted it for the first time last week at Russo’s. It’s apparently some sort of citrus fruit that is used mainly for the zest or for decoration. There’s not much flesh or juice in it, so $8 is a lot to pay for zest. Still, that’s one wacky looking fruit. People were just sort of standing around it staring and pointing.
• Is it safe to assume that anyone driving a Hummer is an a-hole, or am I being too presumptuous? Or are the people who drive these gas-guzzling–my-penis-is-really-really-tiny-and-i-have-more-money-than-you-do monstrosities really considerate and thoughtful and kind folks? They just make me angry.

Arriving a full 45 minutes before the start of the screening for fast Food Nation, we were faced with a line already a couple hundred people long. Seriously, I know movies are expensive, but how early did these people have to get there to be first in line? Needless to say, we didn’t get in, just missing by, oh, 60 people.

On the bright side, we did make a visit to UBurger in Kenmore Square. I think this place is going to do very well. A pretty simple menu of burgers, fries, onion rings, some chicken sandwiches, hot dogs, salads, and frappes. Everything is made to order, everything is made fresh, the beef is ground on site daily, the fries are hand-cut, the room is sleek and clean. A similar philosophy to In-N-Out, the burgers are pretty damn tasty. Simple bun, medium thickness burger, shredded lettuce, tomato, onion, pickles, and house spread. The fries are straight out of the fryer, and could use a little salt and a little extra time draining the oil. More expensive than a fast food joint, paying about $12 for two cheeseburgers, an order of fries, and a frappe, but well worth it. If it was in a more convenient location (we scored a metered parking spot right in front!), i have a feeling we’d make regular visits. Once Red Sox season hits, this place is going to be slammed. I know I rail against fast food, but this is in a different category. It’s good quality food that just happens to be fast. I can feel good about eating it (although my belly wasn’t exactly happy and I had a slightly greasy feeling afterwards, but that’s probably more due to how infrequently I eat this sort of stuff).

• Let’s see how quickly my server crashes. Since George can’t fit into his crate with his big plastic collar, he’s spending his days hanging out in our pantry area. And of course, the GeorgeCam is online. Seriously, he spends the majority of the day just sleeping, but I can’t stop watching him. The dog walker comes around noon, so tune in then.
• I hit 100,000 miles this morning. I was fully expecting the car to explode, but the moment passed without event. It just needs to make it through the winter, and then it’s hopefully time for a new car. And yes, I’m obsessively researching what I’m going to buy.
• The Lovely Suse made her yearly batch of pumpkin bread. I expect to eat an entire loaf of it in the next two days.
• I purchased my entire winter wardrobe for about $50. I’ve gotten into the habit of not spending more than $15 for any piece of clothing (not including shoes, because, hey, I like shoes). Yes, I’m a cheap bastard, but I don’t care, and I think I still look good.
• The pizookie never, ever fails to wow a crowd. All hail the pizookie!
• I tried one of those inkjet cartridge refill kits, and guess what? It actually worked. You literally inject ink into the cartridge with a syringe, and it’s as good as new. A new cartridge costs $15. The kit, which refills it 6 times costs $11. Sort of a no brainer.
• It’s mid-November, and I’m still grilling outside. As long as there’s no snow on the ground, I’ll keep it up.
• I won passes to a free screening of Fast Food Nation tomorrow night. I can’t figure out if it’s right or wrong to try out UBurger before the screening.
• I got my quarterly haircut this past weekend. Yes, I get exactly four haircuts per year.

In a world of truffle oil, candied fennel, and foie gras, sometimes, you just need Mama’s spaghetti and meatballs. It’s a simple dish that warms you up on a cold rainy night, and in honor of George losing his own meatballs today, we’ll name them after him.

I make them just like my Italian grandma taught me. In this case, we’re using ground dark turkey meat, which has more fat in it that the white meat, and of course, more flavor and moisture. The recipe is a bit inexact, as it takes some adjustment to get it right. We start with one pound of meat (feel free to substitute beef, veal, pork, or ideally, a combo of all three), add one beaten egg (freshly pooped that morning!), a handful of Italian breadcrumbs, a handful of grated parm or pecorino, some chopped parsley, salt, and pepper. Mix it all up, and see how we do. You don’t want it to be too wet or too dry, but just holding together. If you add too many breadcrumbs, your meatballs will come out stiff and dry. Too few, and they won’t hold together. Err on the side of too few, and gradually add more to get it to the right consistency.

Once you get it right, it’s time to check it for flavor. Obviously, you won’t want to eat raw meat, turkey or otherwise, so get a non-stick pan, take a small spoonful of the mixture, and quickly cook it. If it needs anything, now’s the time to add it. If you’re happy with it, it’s time for some cooking.

Some people prefer to just form the meatballs and plop them into to simmering tomato sauce to cook them through, which will work just fine. My Italian grandma taught me to brown them first, then finish them off in the sauce. To form them, it’s best to wet your hands, pick up some of the mixture, and gently form it in to a ball. The gentler you are with your balls, the more tender they’ll come out. In that non-stick pan over medium-high heat, add a glug of olive oil and start browning your balls on all sides (really, I can’t say balls enough). It will only take a couple of minutes to get them nicely browned, and then transfer them to a saucepan with some gently simmering sauce. They’ll take another 10 minutes or so to cook through, and you’re pretty much done.

We tend to use lots of fancy sounding pasta shapes; perciatelli, bucatini, casarecce, orichietti, etc. This meal calls for good old spaghetti, tossed with the sauce, more freshly chopped parsley, grated parm, and topped with the meatballs and more parm. And it must be tossed. A plate of plain, unadorned spaghetti topped with sauce and meatballs just leaves the majority of it, well, plain. The sauce never gets incorporated into the pasta, and the spaghetti eventually just sticks into one giant clump. That’s no good. Enjoy your balls because George can’t. Mangia!

• I’m still tired. George made it three days in a row of waking us up at 3:15AM, and then I stayed up late watching the Pats lose to the Colts.
• A perfectly executed visit to the original Pizzeria Regina in the North End. Timed to coincide with the start of the Celtics game nearby and on a cold night, there was practically no line to get in. A three minute wait and we were sitting, another minute and the order was in. Large Cheese, well done is the only way to go (or pepperoni), as their pizzas with too many toppings, especially vegetables, end up undercooked and watery. The pizza was pretty much perfect (although slightly less than well-done) and hit the spot. And to top it all off, the Lovely Suse wasn’t almost killed by a pile of garbage at the Haymarket like last time.
• Dinner at Robert and Margaret’s, featuring a nice fireplace with a crackling fire, and Robert modeling his high school letterman jacket, complete with “Who’s Who Among American High School Students” patch.
• I got to bust out my leaf blower/vacuum and cleaned up the entire yard in about two hours. It was also time to bring in the patio furniture, which is just admitting that winter is coming. It’s just depressing.
• This is just plain wrong. Holy Hamburger.
• I just love that Borat made $30 million showing on only 800 or so screens and is the number one movie in America It’s amazing considering that the entire middle of the country doesn’t get it or is insulted by it and will never see it. Still, the publicity blitz is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, with Borat showing up on pretty much every tv show, in every magazine, and in every newspaper around. I love the liberal media!
• Don’t tell anyone, but we bought some Sweet Scoops pumpkin frozen yogurt yesterday. You know, for research and comparison purposes. I am now on the search for guar gum, xanthan gum, and carrageenan

You’ll have to excuse us if we’re feeling a little bit groggy today. For the past two nights, George has kindly woken us up at 3:15AM and 3:30AM (with a follow up at 4:45 this morning) with his really annoying and consistent crying to tell us that he has to go out. Sure, I’m glad that he’s telling us that he has to go out, but couldn’t he just go back to sleep and wait for a more appropriate hour? He does this about once every other week, and it’s to be expected for a puppy. Hey, maybe the whole daylight savings thing has thrown him off? Well, maybe it’s a coincidence, but George also turned 6 months old two days ago. Apparently, this is the equivalent of being a teenager, when his hormones start to go wacky, he starts going wacky, he starts running around like a crazy man chewing up everything in sight, and ignoring his house breaking whenever he feels like it. Fun! It’s not a coincidence that a large percentage of dogs that are given up for adoption are given up around this age. They can be a huge pain in the ass and not so much fun to deal with. George has lived a pretty good life so far, but his world is about to be flipped upside down.

Coinciding with his growing hormones and his 6 months of living, we’re chopping his nuts off. Yes, it’s neutering time. I get the feeling that he won’t be doing so much humping of his stuffed toys for a little while. Hopefully, in short time, he’ll be back to the cute little pup that he’s always been…

Now how can you get angry at a face like that?

Photo via Flickr and wonmyeong.

As I sit here diligently making my way through leftover Halloween candy, I realize that I have very distinct likes and dislikes when it comes to candy. I have an immense sweet tooth, one that I’ve inherited from my dad, but it’s only for specific sorts of treats.

Of course, when it comes to buying Halloween candy for the kiddies, I’m really buying it for me, hoping for few trick or treaters and lots of leftovers for me. I rarely ever buy candy. In fact, with the exception of the occasional emergency rest stop bag of peanut M&M’s and packages of Jelly Bellys for my office, I never buy candy. It just never occurs to me, and frankly, doesn’t really appeal to me. I would never think of eating a whole candy bar, and sort of makes me sick thinking about it.

I need my candy to come in small doses, be simple in nature, usually contain chocolate, and contain something crispy or crunchy. Candies falling into this category include M&M’s (preferably peanut or the irresistibly addictive crispy ones, plain if there’s nothing else around, but never the peanut butter ones), mini Nestle Crunches, mini KitKats, and the latest addition, Whoppers. Minty treats also are good, such as Junior Mints (“Who’s gonna turn down a Junior Mint? It’s chocolate, it’s peppermint– it’s *delicious*!”) and York Peppermint Patties. Anything too peanutty or peanut buttery is a no go, as is anything caramel-y or nougat-y. That means no Snickers bars or 3 Musketeers or anything like that.

I like candies with a structure that I can deconstruct in my mouth. I’ll never take a bite of a KitKat, but I’ll chew off the various strata of crispiness until I get to the bottom. I’ll break off the outer candy shell of a peanut M&M and wait for the chocolate to dissolve before eating the peanut. I’ll take a bite of a Nestle Crunch but let the chocolate dissolve until I’m left with only the crispy rice. This is completely mental of course, and I’m sure a psychologist would have a field day with my candy eating methods. I’m showing self-restraint and trying to make the treat last as long as possible. It’s the same reason it takes me five hours to finish a Clif Bar. But everyone has their own methods and likes and dislikes, right? If you really want to read about some wacky candy behavior, check out Steve Almond’s Candyfreak, a hilarious account of the authors candy-filled childhood, and his adult cross-country search to track down the sources of some regional old time favorites. A great read. In the meantime, enjoy your Halloween leftovers. And save me some peanut M&M’s please.