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soupapalooza!

the stories
the kitchen
the market
the proof (party pics!)
the food porn
the recipes
the about
the drop me a line part
the resources
the full list
jewelry alchemy
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Texas chili, part III: you can take the girl out of Texas, but you can never put beans or tomatoes in her Texas chili

Before we get too deep into some crazy yarn about my insane family or my lack of appropriate male companionship, and In the interest of full disclosure, I'm going to let you know right now that the only championship the following recipe has won is the championship of my own personal badassery. That said, it is an oversized-blue-ribbon-earning, imaginary-tickertape-parade-deserving, melt-in-your-mouth-meat-orgy-having delight. So there. And so what if it's the THIRD post about Texas chili in as many years? I think an appropriate yearly update of my evolving championship chili (tm) is totally worthy of some megabits or bytes or parcels or packets or whatever and you should totally give it a whirl if you give a crap at all about a real Texas tradition or if you just want something really, really, exceptionally good to make and freeze and have on hand for cold winter nights.

I feel like this may be the time to bring up an important relationship, and no, I'm not talking about the fun kind that results in breakfast and/ or coffee in bed (I'd like my eggs over easy with a side of crispy bacon and I take my coffee with half and half and a teaspoon of sugar, thank you). The very important relationship I'm talking about is the one you should make with your local butcher. I know many of us rely upon the packaged meat section at Ralph's or Safeway or Whole Foods because of the convenience, and I'm not trying to get all preachy or anything, but you really should consider identifying and then patronizing a local butcher. Yes, it's an additional stop and it may be out of the way and possibly even slightly more expensive, but I think it's healthier and more responsible to keep things as local as possible. I also think it's important to acknowledge that you're eating an animal, something that was previously alive and it should've been treated humanely. Not just because you care about that animal necessarily, but because it's healthier to eat animals that are treated humanely and are not fed antibiotics and hormones. As Americans our diets are overloaded with animal protein as it is-- we could all eat a little less of it. And if we're eating slightly less, our pocketbooks can take the slightly more expensive price tag along with the higher quality meat, right?

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PostedNovember 28, 2012
Authormelissa mcclure
Categoriessoup
Tagsrecipe, spice station silverlake, surfas, chipotle, huntington meats, butcher, smoky, bossypants, Texas chili, unabashed carnivore, stock, soupapalooza!, mccall's meat and fish, suet, lindy & grundy
3 CommentsPost a comment

ragu bolognese: a timeline of the blog-pocolypse

​Dateline: Wednesday

7pm: have brilliant idea to make bolognese for dinner Thursday night. Scour hard drive for secret recipe and pat self on back for being so clever.

8.14pm: find secret recipe while on a commercial break during the season finale of “America’s Next Top Model”. Applaud self for having DVR and ability to FFWD through commercials for that diet thingy that Kim Kardashian is promoting.

8.15pm: practice self loathing upon realizing that I’m watching the season finale of “America’s Next Top Model”. And actually care who wins. And know who Kim Kardashian is.

Dateline: Thursday

12.00 noon: arrive at the food of wholeness after being cut off for the last parking space by a Prius with an Obama sticker on the back (aka: EVERY Prius in southern California). So much for change.

12.17pm: purchase 8 pounds of vegetables and wonder what the cashier smoked on his lunch break and wonder if he has any extra.

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PostedMay 14, 2010
Authormelissa mcclure
Categoriesgear and miscellany
Tagsragu bolognese, huntington meats, Real Housewives of New York City, Kelly Bensimon is a gift from Jesus, Monkey the Cat, I drank more wine than I used in the recipe, soffrito, mirepoix
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mulligatawny: when to say when

Sometimes it’s crystal clear when things are done and there is no need to ask the Magic 8 Ball for its opinion. Things can be burnt, they can be dry, the timer in a turkey can pop up or he could have given someone else an engagement ring-- take your pick, they’re all excellent indicators. I like to think I don’t need to read tea leaves to figure out what the universe is trying to tell me by BANGING ME OVER THE HEAD. I like to think I can just use those god-given magical five senses to determine whether or not something is cooked. 

I was hanging out in Gray Gardens, also known as my couch when it is strewn with potato chip bags, coffee cups and a sleeping cat between my knees, when I got a call from the Bossy Blonde in her “thinking chair” from the west village. I desperately need a thinking chair, by the way, and the conversation went a little something like this:

“So [Chef Kenobi] and I were having drinks last night and he asked me if you were obsessed with soup. He said, ‘what’s her deal? Is she going to make soup every Sunday for the rest of her life?’ And I wondered about that, too. I mean it’s not like you gave yourself a year deadline to cook through Mastering the Art of French Cooking and blog about it, thank God, since it’s already been done and Amy Adams was so annoying in it.” 

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PostedMay 10, 2010
Authormelissa mcclure
Categoriessoup
Tagssoup with a side of ennui, thanks for souping, soupapalooza!, recipe, lamb, there's no crying at the butcher's shop, huntington meats, duck man, mt. dumpatoa, bahhhhhhhhh, persian yogurt salad, fried stuff, fried banana, coconut, coconut milk gelato, grey gardens, Chef Kenobi, east asian, the lambs are definitely still screaming, champagne cocktail, cham-pain-in-the-ass
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goldsmith, sometime costume designer and badass cat owner. 

goldsmith, sometime costume designer and badass cat owner. 

  • dessert (1)
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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.

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