[This week’s post is brought to you by Leslie Mann in The 40-Year-Old Virgin.]
What do you do when you’ve got a week off between jobs, a battered old cookbook that holds three separate recipes for French toast, a schedule that’s completely sapped your ability to sleep in, and a type-A personality that makes you slightly nuts because, again, you’ve got a week off between jobs?
This, my friends, is how you end Passover with a bang.
I didn’t grow up on monkey bread. In fact, I hadn’t even heard of it until the first time I read Nonnie’s cookbook cover to cover. According to my mom, it was one of Nonnie’s specialties, a party trick she’d break out for special occasions — and one of the recipes Mom only made herself once or twice, since it allegedly never turned out to be as good as her own mother’s.
So: What the hell is monkey bread? The answer depends on who you ask. Continue reading
Let’s talk about fridge fish. Continue reading
After two months of experimenting with Nonnie’s busted binder of recipes, I’ve discovered two things to be true.
The first: Nonnie’s savory recipes are hit or miss. For every deliciously browned, crispy-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside oven-roasted potato, there’s a nasty onion parade or questionable amalgamation of boxed mac and cheese, tomatoes, and canned tuna. (Not that we didn’t eat the whole pan of the latter anyway.)
The second: When it comes to pastries, though, Nonnie knew her shit. Continue reading
Case in point: This spring, for reasons I still don’t totally understand, I was invited to a party celebrating the various different types of flours manufactured by Bob’s Red Mill. (Seriously, the invite was a total mystery; I hadn’t even started my incredibly well-trafficked food blog yet.)
Because I figured (rightly) that such a party would involve not only the standard open bar but also a variety of professionally made baked goods, I jumped at the chance to attend. Continue reading
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from five years of obsessive food blog consumption, it’s that the world hardly needs another banana bread recipe.
Sure, you can jack it up with chocolate, or millet, or peanut butter, or bourbon, or cream cheese and buttermilk and icing spiked with coconut and pecans in what’s supposedly a healthy, guilt-free recipe (yeah, okay, Southern Living). But at its core, it’ll always be the same humble loaf — a cake designed to seem healthy enough for breakfast consumption, and to use up the spotty brown chiquitas on your countertop before they turn into their own thriving, fruit-fly-based, self-contained ecosystem. Continue reading