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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It’s complicated with Facebook and me.

On the one hand, I absolutely adore Facebook. I love that it allows me to stalk other people with such a peripatetic grace and ease. I love that I can peek into the not-so-secret nooks and crannies of other people’s often carefully curated versions of themselves. I love that Facebook is proof of Pavlov, that every time I see a little red number at the top of my status bar I'm reminded that I am NOT ALONE in my love of grumpy cat/ appreciation of an indie music video/ alignment of political belief, so much so that I salivate. Really. It’s kind of gross proof, but it’s proof nonetheless.

And then there’s this thing I do with Facebook, an automatic response, actually, to certain posts that I find offensive or dull-witted, that I like to call the digital eye roll. It's shameful but I love it. I’m almost certain I’m not alone in this, and though it’s not a very nice thing for me to talk about out loud, I’m totally subject to the basest of my instincts despite all my namastes and protestations to the contrary. Trust me, if I could sat nam my way out of being a bit of a bitch, I totally would, but alas, I cannot.

Here’s what makes my eyes roll involuntarily: masters of the humble brag (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE), and posts that ask others to withhold judgement. Really, isn’t the whole point in posting something to be judged, so the little red number pops up in the status bar and we salivate? Isn’t that what we’re asking for when we post vacation/ baby/ cat pictures/ political rants/ links to our annoying blog that we want you to read and participate in, a judgement? Facebook is 100% about this-- we are begging people for a reaction, and we don't get to ask for only a positive one. You don’t get approval without disapproval in the same way you can’t expect to be all things to all people. It’s simply an unnatural impossibility.

I actually find the judgement of it all kind of refreshing in this regard.

PostedApril 15, 2013

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriesbreakfast, desserts & sweet treats, vegetarian, dessert

Tagsbad blogger, breakfast-palooza!, breakfast for dinner, soupapalooza!, soup with a side of ennui, recipe, blueberry, blueberry compote, facebook narcissism, waffles, Facebook fail, it's complicated, let it go already

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The BLT is one of my favorite comfort foods. In the late summer, when tomatoes are at their ripest, most delicious selves, I almost always come home from the farmer's market with a loaf of french bread, heirloom tomatoes and greens (there is always bacon in my refrigerator, always always always), and they quickly become the almost-instant-gratification expression of delight-- a juicy, delicious and meaty sandwich. And as much as I love tomatoes any way I can get them (minus from other people's refrigerators, naturally, because that makes them all mealy), I have a particular fascination with mayonnaise, too. So between the french stuff, the artisanal hipster stuff from Brooklyn with the chile tinge and the perfect workhorse, Hellman's (or Best Foods if you're west of the Rockies), there are many delicious versions to always keep me interested and to highlight the perfect sandwich.

When I was planning the breakfast-palooza! menu, I had a hard time figuring out how to work in a proper green salad with the circus of carbohydrates I was offering up. It occurred to me that even though it wasn't summer and tomatoes aren't really in season, except, of course, here in Southern California where most produce is pretty much in season all the time, and BLTs aren't really a breakfast food at all, they still pop up on brunch menus sometimes and they would probably taste great next to all the other stuff I was planning to force into the arteries of my guests.

And I was right. This salad is quick, delicious, and Rachel Zoe is somewhere in a corner, furiously shoving it into her mouth whispering, "I die" to anyone within earshot. I would make it as an entire meal for two and eat the whole thing myself.

PostedFebruary 26, 2013

Authormelissa mcclure

Categoriespositively piggy, salad, breakfast

Tagsbacon is best, piggy piggy piggy, positively piggy, BLT salad, recipe, soupapalooza!, breakfast-palooza!, crouton, mayonnaise malaise, someone get Rachel Zoe a cheeseburger STAT, tomato

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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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I have been yammering on and on and on about how I am going to do a breakfast-palooza for almost an entire year. Yes, since LAST APRIL when I did my TV dinner soupapalooza. I am nothing if not a sloth when it comes to executing all the little delights my underutilized brain can conjure...of course, when I dream up these little delights they are always executed quickly, perfectly and I'm wearing a beautiful party dress that doesn't get any food on it. I really loves me an imaginary Best Case Scenario.

After all the plotting and thinking and reality TV watching (please feel more than free to judge me since I judge everyone else ALL THE TIME) I got off my duff and decided to get back on the soup program. Actually I was nudged by a friend who was coming to town for a quick visit and who also wanted to pack in seeing as many people as possible at one time as she could, which worked out well for me because just like starting a blog to ensure that I actually completed the cooking challenge I set for myself, this was a good way to make sure I didn't puss out. Because I do have a tendency to really, spectacularly puss out. Just ask my friend Delia about how I pretended to tighten the tension on the spinning bike in her class, and about the fact that I still almost fell down the stairs after the class because I've been sitting on my ass for A YEAR. And please forgive my Kanye-ALL-CAPS-I'M-YELLING-AT-YOU emphasis, but I think it's necessary to really MAKE MY POINT.

Anyway, I dreamed (dreamt?) up a pretty ambitious menu, though, like I said earlier, I never think it's all that ambitious (and why am I always so cute in these daydreams?) until 30 people are in my house and there are no pigs in a blanket for them to much on while I toss the salad. I consider that a party fail, though I have learned along this journey that it's usually more important to have the drinks ready than the proverbial pu pu platter as guests arrive, or maybe that's just because I have pretty boozy friends, I don't know, but whatever works.

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

buttermilk waffles with blueberry compote: It's complicated in my relationship with Facebook

BLT salad: presented in all its delicious glory without a side of ennui

homefry potato soup with hashbrown, bacon breadcrumbs, fried egg & sriracha: there's a whole lotta bacon goin' on

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

buttermilk waffles with blueberry compote: It's complicated in my relationship with Facebook

BLT salad: presented in all its delicious glory without a side of ennui

turkey sausage patty sliders: love is in a biscuit

homefry potato soup with hashbrown, bacon breadcrumbs, fried egg & sriracha: there's a whole lotta bacon goin' on

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