So The Random Hausfrau dropped by for a short visit a couple of weeks ago, and she brought her really spirited three year old daughter with her. I'm already Auntie Mame to two cool kids, but they're almost teenagers now and their parents (my brother and sister in law) were smart enough to not entrust me with the precious lives of their offspring when they were young (too bad I can be an even badder influence now that they're still impressionable and that I can do some real serious awesome damage-- watch out for The Clash mp3s I'm sending Connor). So even though I'm an experienced Auntie, I've never actually hosted a "little" for such a long stretch, and certainly not in my death trap of a loft. Not gonna lie, I was really, really worried, though not worried enough to, oh I don't know, child proof anything at all in my industrial space. I'm so thoughtful like that.

Anyway, my main concern was making sure the little didn't expire from hunger, and I needed a pretend reason to make hotdog tatertots, so I did. And The Frau and I ate about three dozen each and the little had exactly two, as in one, two. But whatever, maybe good taste isn't genetic. Picky littles be damned, I made an extra batch of these and froze them to keep as last minute bites when unexpected grown up people show up, though I'm very thankful that I don't know any of those and can keep all of them for myself.

PostedMay 24, 2013

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriesappetizers and snacks

Tagshotdogs are hot, tatertots, hotdog tatertots, pootatoes, spicy pickles, finger food, watch your fingers, it's not a meal unless there's something fried, appetizer, littles, recipe, random hausfrau, Bad Auntie, try not to kill your guests

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I don't just think it's Spring, I KNOW it's Spring because peas showed up at the farmer's market at Larchmont on Sunday, along with Reza from Bravo's "Shahs of Sunset", but that's another emergency breakthrough altogether.

Simple. Sweet. Beautiful. Delicious. And I'm not just talking about Reza's mustache.

It's a shame that many of us grew up at a time when the only peas we ever saw on our plates were from a can, because I wouldn't even look at a pea until I was well into adulthood. Now I can't get enough of them; the bright color, the sweetness and the heralding of good weather are only a few reasons why they make a really attractive appetizer.

PostedMarch 5, 2013

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriesappetizers and snacks, vegetarian

Tagsvegetarian, can be tailored vegan, peashoots, green peas, spring pea, spring has sprung, appetizer, reggiano-parmesan, parmesan, balsamic vinegar, crostini, finger food, reza

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Doing a breakfast-palooza was a no-brainer for me, though I do not eat breakfast with any regularity at all; mostly my days begin with at least three cups of espresso (thanks to Arash and his amazing gift of the Francis) and then some kind of lunch around 4pm. It's probably not the best way to set myself up for success nutritionally speaking, or as a practice of self-love, but it is what it is. When I do have breakfast or brunch it's nothing short of a celebration.

We didn't really eat breakfast when I was a kid, either. I remember that there were sugary cereals in the pantry for Saturday mornings when my mom would sleep in and my brother and I would get up early to watch cartoons (why, exactly, can I not get excited enough about anything to get me out of bed at 6am these days?), and there was the occasional pouch of instant grits that I would float a stick of butter on. And Mom would make bigfoot pancakes for us on very special occasions, the treatiest of all possible treats, when she would whip up bisquik in her bathrobe and, using a spoon and guiding the batter with her tiny little finger, add little drops that would form "toes" on the top of the browning-in-butter edges of the flap jacks. I always knew something great had happened when bigfoot pancakes would show up in the morning and I still can't help but get a little rush when I smell butter foaming in a pan.

I've said it before, but I think it bears repeating: food is a nostalgic experience. It's full of the details of our memory and emotions which is why it can sometimes be addictive. It is comfort, reward, celebration, and sometimes punishment. For me it's a connection to my family, to the narrative of my life, my parents' lives, my grandfather's stories...and breakfast is the very beginning and the base for everything during the day, which makes it unique.

PostedFebruary 22, 2013

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriesappetizers and snacks, breakfast

Tagsbreakfast-palooza!, breakfast for dinner, appetizer, turkey, sausage, turkey sausage patties, biscuits, papa, Texas, rancher cuisine, food is love, caring is sharing, coffee is morning soup, recipe

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Wouldn't you know it, the very SECOND I open my gaping pie-hole about owning up to my responsibilities as an adult, I get tested. I don't believe in any kind of karma or universal smack down in general, but I do find it quite funny (and not in a "not unless clowns are funny" kind of way) that right when I tell the world (OK, when I tell you, Mom, and you, Unnamed Visitor #2) via my blog that I am growing up and kicking some Elvis-style-TCB ass, my car decides to go on strike.

Yes, 11 year old cars have a tendency to do this. And yes, I've kind of shirked some of my car owner responsibilities as of late, too (shocking, right?), so it's really not much of a surprise that it's my turn to have to deal with the unpleasantness of bending over for a mechanic.

Because I'm still teenager sitting (more on my fabulous weekend of zero sleep, Facebook status feed Olympic spoilers and stress-induced nerve damage later) I totally lucked out and happened to have said teenager's dad's car in the garage for my use. It does alleviate the pressure of having to pay for a rental on top of what I expect will be a pretty grotesque bill, so I've got that going for me, which is nice. But I really freaked out to myself when I initially sat in my car and it did nothing but grind and moan and tell me it was officially done with my ass.

PostedJuly 30, 2012

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriessalad, vegetarian, appetizers and snacks

Tagsburrata, growingupsucks, poolside, bruschetta, Innercity Velvet, Jenni Jihad, appetizer, basil, snack, carpocalypse, Terror Teen

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I'll be running away from home in the next few weeks. Yup, just like when I was six or seven and had decided that I was going to move into the oak tree in the front yard next to the Crepe Myrtles. I brought my most important possessions with me: my favorite headband, my "Grease" t-shirt with John Travolta decal (or as my dad called him, "Johnny Revolting") and some sort of stick for hunting birds or squirrels, though I was more interested in befriending them than in killing them, but a runaway gal's gotta eat. Also, if you look in the upper right corner of the photographic evidence of this moment, you'll see there is what appears to be a tambourine. I think I thought I could earn money by performing Linda McCartney-style musical routines from the tree. In this my upcoming new version of a runaway adventure, my treehouse will be a fifth floor walk up in the East Village and I'll be bringing my knives and leaving my headbands at home (my Bangs-Not-Botox make a headband wholly unnecessary). And John Travolta won't be an iron-on on my shirt, but probably will be in a bathhouse getting an erotic massage in Chelsea. Oh how life has changed in 33-34 years!

Hopefully I'll have some funny kitchen tales from my three weeks away from home, and I fully intend to bore you endlessly with iPhone photos and tales of accidentally grating my fingers along with the parmesan cheese, so do stay posted for the live blogging of my kitchen humbling.

But until then I'm teenager sitting in the Pacific Palisades. And nothing, absolutely nothing, brings on feelings of finite mortality quite like being responsible for a now-almost-grown-but-still-kind-of-useless human being that you've known since he was two. Well, that and the RadioLab meditations on death and dying that I heard on my way over to his parents' house on Sunday. And the fact that I'm forty and I'm so untethered that I'm even available and desperate enough to housesit for someone else. I'm clearly the Jerri Blank of the 90272.

Even before I got to the beautiful house with a pool (yes, I'm caring for a kid, but I'm so totally also getting a tan), before I even left the parking lot of my loft for this quick two week detour, I was already feeling anxious and a little sad...

PostedJuly 22, 2012

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriesvegetarian, appetizers and snacks

TagsI don't give a fig, no clogs no way, mission fig, recipe, 90272, crostini, change sucks, red onion, appetizer, bruschetta, Runaway, soupapalooza!, prison warden of PacPal, Peter Pan Doesn't Live Here Anymore, f^$kup

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hot dog tatertots: I'm so not above pimping out my awesome friend's cute kid if it gets me lots of hits AND I get to eat little pillows of deliciousness

pea and mint crostini: we interrupt this program with news that Spring has sprung!

simple bruschetta a la minute: saying something and doing something are totally different things

mission fig and red onion bruschetta with ricotta: who really gives a fig?

Why? Because soup is cheap, delicious and easy. Kind of like me.

a weekly attempt to eat well and to savor life. or to see how much food I can get on my clothes.

hot dog tatertots: I'm so not above pimping out my awesome friend's cute kid if it gets me lots of hits AND I get to eat little pillows of deliciousness

pea and mint crostini: we interrupt this program with news that Spring has sprung!

turkey sausage patty sliders: love is in a biscuit

simple bruschetta a la minute: saying something and doing something are totally different things

mission fig and red onion bruschetta with ricotta: who really gives a fig?

Why? Because soup is cheap, delicious and easy. Kind of like me.