As some of you may know, I recently stopped smoking, after a year and a half of smoking, after four years of not smoking, after a very long time of smoking. The combined effect of no longer flooding my system with appetite suppressants and needing to keep my hands busy has resulted in a lot of really good food flying around my house lately.
Now, I’ve been playing in the kitchen since I was tall enough to reach the stove* and am no stranger to cranking out properly cooked and well-seasoned food, but even I’ve been impressed with me this past few weeks. I have been stretching, boys and girls, stretching like the first bite of a chile relleno, like the innards of a just-cut grilled cheese, like homemade mozzarella I will be making week after next**.
Why wait, you ask? Because next week I am dedicating to paying proper tribute to a blog I’ve been following for a while now but have not taken the time to truly appreciate hands-on, Domestic Sluttery.
We’ve all found blogs that immediately make us go “ooooOOOOoooh…” with all their pretty and awesome and delicious, and subsequently make us go “mmmmmm” and “zomfg” and “I SERIOUSLY FUCKING NEED THAT IN MY LIFE RIGHT NOW” with every new visit, but how often to we take the time to act on those base and usually not entirely healthy urges? Not often enough, people. Not nearly often enough. So next week, the household menu planning will revolve around interpretations of recipes found on that blog.
Even if they are based in the
and insist on using an utterly ridiculous system of measurement based solely on
increments of ten, when we have a perfectly good one of fours, fives and twelves
that anyone who was raised with it can easily make perfect sense of. And even if they do insist on calling cans “tins”,
when everyone knows cans aren’t even made of tin anymore. That would be like us calling glass jars “cans”
just because the process of sealing things in glass jars is called “canning”. Pffft. U.K.
And thank you, Google, because without you I seriously had no clue what the shit a “courgette” was.***
However, I must admit to finding the phrase “on an offer”**** far more endearing than it has any right to be. Don’t ask. I don’t know. It just makes me happy every time I read it.
But I digress.
Your next question after “why the hell are you waiting to make mozzarella?!” is very likely “why will you be interpreting the recipes on the blog rather than following them exactly?” And the short answer is, because I am an old hippie at heart and people in
do not know how the fuck to
drive. Which probably requires some
elaboration to make even a modicum of sense, so here you have it: California
I am not one of those people who will make a special trip to get a single ingredient to make a specific dish. I go to Costco once a week primarily for meat, produce, and bulk dry goods like flour & rice. I go to Big Lots once a month, mostly for a lot of wine but also for canned and smaller dry goods. I make a special trip to Cost Plus 2 or 3 times a year to stock up on spices, vinegars, more esoteric pantry items. And that is it. I choose to not worsen my carbon footprint by willynillying around on a daily basis for teaspoons of things. And I limit as much as possible the amount of time I have to spend on the road with my fellow Californians, who, I believe I have previously mentioned, seriously do not know how the fuck to drive, consequently also limiting the likelihood that I will wind up on trial for their mysterious deaths should my numerous assertions throughout the years that I am quite capable of planning the perfect murder***** prove sadly untrue.
So I will be following the recipes pretty closely, but making adjustments as I go based on 1- what I have in the house, 2- the fact that I cook for someone who has a history of picky eating that I have only mostly managed to obliterate, and 3- my fundamental what-the-hell-everishness when it comes to actually “following” recipes.
I will be posting the results of my folly here, with links to the original recipes, notes on what changes I made, and, of course, pictures. Feel free to tell me to stop at any time. I won’t, of course, but the feedback makes me feel loved.
*shut up, Paul
**dear god I love cheese
***for those of us in English-speaking countries, it’s a zucchini
****it means “on sale” but it just sounds so civilized and non-inclusive of mall brawls
*****digitalis and coffee filters, just sayin’