Mommy lets me watch MTV: "Everlong"

This is the song I wanted to designate someday as our wedding song, set to piano or acoustic guitar. Now that I've seen the video, I think we'll go with Etta James, thanks. Videos by the Foo Fighters are notoriously slapstick so I don't know why I was expecting otherwise. In this one Dave Grohl saves the love of his life in various episodes by, apparently, hitting the perpetrators repeatedly with an enlarged hand.



P.S. Remember kids, you need to get engaged first in order to get married ;)

P.P.S. This one's circa 1997 from The Colour and the Shape.

Did the invention of cooking initiate the development of patriarchal society?

That's what Harvard University anthropologist Richard Wrangham argues, among other things concerning evolution and cuisine, in his 2009 book, Catching Fire (Basic Books). Witty, comprehensive, and highly enlightenting, Wrangham's book discusses the theory that our departure from primitive beings and speedy evolution into hairless, upright, big-brained humans is all due to the invention and diffusion of cooking. Hell yeah, people who can cook are AWESOME. But this is a bit more sophisticated than that, of course. At times Wrangham is hard to follow, but his ultimate argument is: globally speaking, the development of our physiology, our character, and even our society, is because of cooking and eating cooked food.

Now, I haven't completed the book yet (relax! I'm getting there), but I recently finished "The Married Cook", the chapter that discusses the origins of male and female bonds based solely on food: the necessity, gathering, and cooking of it. Wrangham explains the symbiotic relationship between hunter (the male) and homemaker/cook (the female) and how their codependency began. Apparently, our cartoons of cavemen dragging women around by the hair aren't that innacurate. Okay, they are, but the author argues that male dependency on the female's ability to cook and provide for him ultimately led to the socio-cultural acceptance of men as the dominant sex.

Wrangham writes:

"The idea that cooking led to our pair-bonds suggests a worldwide irony. Cooking brought huge nutritional benefits. But for women, the adoption of cooking has also led to a major increase intheir vulnerability to male authority. Men were the greater beneficiaries. Cooking freed women's time and fed their children, but it also trapped women into a newly subservient role enforced by male-dominated culture. Cooking created and perpetuated a novel system of male cultural superiority. It is not a pretty picture." -chapter 7, page 177

It was a bit unexpected, since a good deal of the discussion is centered around, well, NOT modern human history. But his connection of this theory to our social custom is fasctinating. I bet Charlotte Perkins Gilman, who the author cited often in this chapter, would have a thing or two to say about that!

Poo Cakes

Surely I'm not the only twenty-something that still giggles at poop jokes. If you're not, first of all lighten-the-fuck-up, and then check out this week's toilet-worthy disasters on Cake Wrecks (it's, of course, a blog devoted just to fugly cakes!)

Mommy lets me watch MTV: "I Think I'm Paranoid"

Version 2.0, the second album by Garbage circa 1998, brought Shirley Manson's electric power-moaning to life with songs like "Push It" and "When I Grow Up". "I Think I'm Paranoid" reveals a primitive anger and sexuality mingled with inadequacy. Her strapless dress and combat boots are killer, by the way.

A pumpkin adventure by means of stove and oven

It all began when I was pleasantly surprised by four perky sugar pumpkins at the landing of our stairs a couple of weeks ago, courageously brought home by Dan, who happens to work next to a preferred farmer's market of mine. I came upon a recipe for homemade pumpkin pureé that I found on Annie's Eats and had been dying to try a season without that canned stuff, for once. It was messy, dangerous, and I broke a good knife of ours trying to get the tops off the little suckers (as if I'd never made a damn Jack-O-Lantern before). But it was so worth it. Just from cooking two of the four pumpkins, I had made about 8 cups of golden pumpkin mush, bound for many tasty goodies for ME! And you too, of course. I was able to box it up in some tupperware and freeze it to hold on to it for a couple of months. Below are pictures from my weekend playing with pumpkin (except for the pureé pics; those are from last week :)




























Pumpkin cream sauce adapted from Streaming Gourmet: have it with thick spaghetti, rigatoni or penne. You'll be suprised how the tastes of pumpkin and parmesan mix so well. Like pasta alfredo, it's best fresh and not leftover. Next time I want to add a bit of pancetta to add a bacony kick.





Chocolate-chip Pumpkin Muffins from angry chicken: these are a must-try AND MUST EAT. The recipe incorporate whole-wheat flour, which I try to use in all my baked goods. Make-time is very fast and they bake in 20 minutes. Instead of using two eggs and two egg-whites, I just used three eggs (I HATE wasting perfectly good egg yolks!) I think I have to leave them in the oven a little longer next time... The ones I made are doughy, but the flavor is intense.

sips and nibbles

Some samplings of the nosh-spots I've visited the past couple of weeks:

Suspiciously quiet on Third Ave between 18th and 19th Streets is Ponty Bistro, which touts French, African and Mediterranean fusion cuisine on their website. The art on the walls signal a Moroccan vibe and funky orange pillows decorate the booth seats. Once for an after work snack I ordered their cheese plate and a kick-in-the-mouth martini. Their daily special is 2-for-1 (though at $12 it's more like 2-for-2) and they come in intriguing flavors: ginger, chocolate, passion fruit, raspberry, and apple. I've also been to Sunday brunch, where the talented/sexy duo Across Madison performs original tunes with trusty guitar and flute. I ordered the scrambled bruschetta (eggs on French baguette with goat cheese, cherry tomatoes and basil pesto), which was filling and fantastic. It came with warm hashed potatoes that they called home fries. Mr. Daniel got the maple crushed French toast that came with a sweet sugary Nutella. We were both happy and chewing and listening and smiling. The prices are fair but a bit high at dinner. My only complaint about the brunch bill was the $3 per cup of tea. Really? Oh, and Dan saw a cute little mouse under a table.

Last week I met Dan's Gram and Gramps for lunch at Jackson Hole, which is apparently a dive bar by night and decent Murray Hill burger place by day. Patty (aka Grandpa) worked up in the 40's for Bell Atlantic back when that was still around and he's been bugging me about this place since I've started working in the city two years ago. We met at the Third Ave joint, and it was just as Patty remembered: cramped, noisy, but extremely friendly and yummy. Both grandparents indulged in the daily special: cheeseburger and fries, while I chose a mushroom, broccoli, and onion sandwich with cheese. It was warm and steamy on a toasted bun, but I had to eat it like a casserole with a fork and knife. We were all fat and happy.

On a whim Shakira and I stopped at the Belmont Lounge on Irving near Union Square for a TGIF happy hour session. Inside it was sort of dark and intimidating, but Rihanna was on the speakers, so it was all good. we were seated outside in the "garden" that had to be navigated with care as it was crowded with twenty-somethings and flimsy wire tables. Happy hour specials included the basics: house wine, draft beer and well drinks. We each got a glass of Merlot and split the spinach & artichoke dip and root vegetable fries. The dip was cheesy, thick and irresistible. The fries were so-so; more like flavored, sticks of fried air. Service was a little slow and hard to grab as waitresses slipped in and out of the "garden"--only visible for a few precious seconds. We were presented with another round of drinks by accident because the "waiter doesn't speak English", and they were hastily taken off our table when I said we didn't order them. You just don't do that with wine--cheap or not!

Mommy lets me watch MTV: "Comedown"

This new series features a weekly video from my 90's alternative past (in which I still linger) before high school and TRL screwed everything up. This music is home to me: where I always involuntarily end up when I want to feel something.

Made famous by the Reese Witherspoon/Mark Wahlberg third-base-on-a-rollercoaster scene in, Fear (1996), Bush's Comedown is one of the precious relics that dear Mr. Rossdale decided to leave us before cruelly slipping into the wayside of SHITTY MUSIC. This single is from their first album, Sixteen Stone (1994).

Fat Italian Bacon

You can find pancetta at most supermarket deli counters for a pretty $10-$12 a pound, depending on the brand. It's a key ingredient to many Roman pasta dishes, lending a tangy bite of bacon that leaves you thirsty for more and more wine. I threw together a pretty succulent tortellini dish last week in which the bacony bits worked as a decent contrast to the oh-so-slightly bitter (and, you know, healthy) baby spinach.

Tortellini with pancetta and spinach:

• 1/4 lb pancetta (ask the deli-counter guy to cut in 1/4 inch-thick slices, and then when you get home, dice this up carefully. Pancetta is very slippery because of the fat content, so cut it slowly and carefully.)
• about 4 handfuls baby spinach
• 1 package cheese tortellini (I like Bertolli's whole-wheat.)
• 1 garlic clove, chopped
• olive oil
• pepper (you will NOT need salt - trust me ;)
  
• grated parmesan

To do:

• Put a pot of water on to boil, and add the tortellini when boiling. Prep a shallow saucepan by heating it up with a splash of olive oil.
  
• Once it's up to medium heat, add the garlic and diced pancetta, moving it around the pan with a wooden spoon, so that it cooks evenly. Keep it on medium/low heat as the pasta cooks.
  
• Drain the pasta when finished. Add it to the saucepan with the pancetta, lightly mixing it together. Add a little more olive oil.
• Set the heat to low. Add the baby spinach one handful at at time, letting each handful wilt before adding a fresh batch. Make sure to mix this up well.
• Add a bit of pepper, plate, and sprinkle well with parmesan.
  

TOTALLY BUONO!

What the awesome!? Fried Oreos

Today by chance we found ourselves in lovely Hoboken, land of happy commuters and good things to eat. On Washington Street people gathered for the Arts and Music Festival, where local art and food vendors of all types, sights and smells lined the sidewalks. There were at least ten booths filled with colorful doggie portraits(good thing I had no cash on me). Dan suddenly spotted the zeppoles and fried Oreo stand, and with childlike wonder, pointed at it and suggested we go try some. We never had before, despite all the ruckus about them down at Seaside and other boardwalks. Dan shelled out a few bucks for three, freshly pulled from the vat of hot oil and shaken in a paper bag with powdered sugar. It was drumroll time: Dan reached in and took a squishy bite.

It was love at first taste.

Of course I followed in suit, and gleefully filled my mouth with the soft and gooey thing. I couldn't believe the immediate happiness it brought me, and I looked down at the half-eaten Oreo-zeppole with pure incredulity. Did that just really happen? It had a plush and inviting texture and a mixture of childhood flavors that all mesh into a blissfull sweetness words cannot explain! In the frying process the cookie became moist and buttery as if it'd been dipped in warm milk. I was hooked, and shook my head in--I don't know--guilt that I've fallen in love with yet another baked good. Not just a baked good, but a FRIED baked good.

Anyway, now Mr. Dan is asking how I can make them at home. The Kitchn has an easy recipe for this, though we'll need a deep fryer. And I just don't know about that...