NeroW

Dude, you just solved the eternal "what to have for dinner on Friday night?" dilemma. I love a lot of gross shit that a lot of people hate. Braunschweiger, 'kraut, Velveeta, Easy Cheese (no cracker, straight into the mouth), Magic Shell, store-bought croutons, Chicken in a Biscuit crackers (damn, I love those--my sister used to lick all the spices off them and then put the crackers back in the box when we were kids, and that did nothing to dent my love for Chicken in a Biscuit). I love canned soups, I love Ramen (mostly by necessity). I love beets, turnips, kale, radishes, bitter greens, bad Celestial Seasonings Tea with honey in the bear-shaped squeeze bottle. I love Kraft Mac 'n Cheese. I, like Varmint, enjoy processed foods--although the more I learn, the less I buy them. I love that Goya "Rice" dinner, and packaged red beans and rice as well. I love bad, cheap beer. Of course, I prefer real good beer, but you know--I try not to make distinctions when I drink. I love bad, cheap whisky and bourbon--bring on the Jim Beam. Especially the new Jim Beam Black. Or Wild Turkey. Woo hoo! I love supermarket salsa and those lime-flavored tortilla chips. Damn, those chips are good. I love cheap salt and vinegar chips, more than the nice kinds. Especially the salt and vinegar Pringles. I also love cheap jug wine. Rossi. My roommate calls it "ghetto broth." OF COURSE I like real wine better, but hey--no distinctions. I drank Rossi the other night. Red. I love bottled Daquiri mix, those horrendously sweet Jose Cuervo margaritas in a bucket, lemonade with no real juice in it. I love Fruitopia. I love instant oatmeal, straight out of the pack. That's right--just the powder. I love those bad, bad strawberry-chocolate-vanilla wafers. I love cold Dinty Moore beef stew. It is like dog food! And I am like a dog. I love frozen-from-concentrate orange juice. I love Archway oatmeal and molasses cookies. I love chocolate chips--not good chocolate, just Nestle, right out of the bag. I love canned tuna, French's yellow mustard on grilled cheese, ketchup, Miracle Whip. I love celery and big fat spicy pickles . . . a girl at my school taught me to eat the big pickles with a peppermint stick stuck in them. She was right! I am not a picky eater. My boyfriend can't stand to watch me eat raw tomatoes. He also has an issue with me eating ice cream and pop together. I have to have a pop when I have ice cream. He can't watch. I love pork rinds and hot sauce. I wouldn't say I *love* chitlins, but I like them. I love okra, I don't care how slimy it is, it tastes good. I love chicken on the bone that's still a little pink. I love livers and gizzards from KFC. I love sardines and I love anchovies. I love frozen vegetables while they are still frozen--especially peas. God, I love frozen peas more than almost any other vegetable. I love Gerber baby food. Especially the pears. Sometimes, I just eat brown sugar. Straight. I could go on.

That's along the lines of what I was going to post, then I remembered it's gotta last a whole week. One bottle?

Worth it: pasta, stock (duh), lasagna, beef carbonnade or any other long braise, bread. Not worth it: puff pastry. Or maybe it's just me. I hate making that shit. Also, making sausages, pates, and terrines is certainly worth the effort.

This is a pleasure for me, too. At home, naturally. I love to spend a nice Saturday drinking beers on the porch, every once in a while getting up to turn the meat in its marinade, roast some peppers, check the rise of my bread. And then back to the porch for more beer. It is so relaxing, and so different from the professional pace. Sometimes cooking in a professional kitchen doesn't even seem like cooking. It's just production.

I also hate raisins. God, I hate them. I don't even like to reach into the box.

I can't believe you guys don't like beer. That's OK. More for me.

Also, I don't like gin.

Hee hee. Like drinking Yuengling?

Anyone else like the way the paper is handling it? I think it's quite refreshing.

You can fly? Sweet! Welcome to eGullet.

I don't like foie gras. I think it smells bad. I like other organ meats . . . just not the Mac Daddy.

Saturday: porterhouses on the Weber, marinated in EVOO, r.w. vin., green garlic, lemons coal-roasted red potatoes roasted red & orange peppers, crisped in the cast iron with more green garlic bread Sunday: grilled beef/pork sausages grilled buns grilled onions mustard skin-on mashed red potatoes with chicken stock

Went to the Kalamazoo Area Farmers Market in Kalamazoo, MI this morning. I shall soon become addicted. I bought: red/orange bell peppers (4 for $4, at the local grocery stores they are $3.99 a piece right now ) white and red radishes green garlic 2 T-bone steaks from Girton Farms, LLC--$6.99/lb. They are a 6th generation farm out of Sturgis, MI. 1 7-lb. roaster chicken at $2.00/lb. This came from Jerry & Bonnie Bartholomew in Scotts, MI. They also had pork chops at $3.99/lb. and soon they will have bison meat. rhubarb strawberries a baguette about 10 feet long and some German sausages from Standale, MI--real hickory smoked pork & beef I was in heaven. What a wonderful place. Tonight I shall have steak and a radish salad, with a green garlic saute.

Tonight we are trying a new tapas place in Chicago that's operated by one of my school's graduates. It's called 1492. I can't wait. I love tapas. I love to watch the busperson carry 50 plates on each arm. They are pros.

Katie, don't you know they keep all us cranky bastards out back, next to the money bush?

Yes, actually. Your customers do pay your salary. What they said. I get comped quite a bit at some, uh, bars that I frequent here in Chicago. Not a whole tab picked up (although that has happened before), but a round on the house for my friends and I, or a few shots here and there. I also get comped frequently at restaurants where I know people working in the kitchen, or know the waitstaff. *I* also comp people whenever my boss says to do so. I don't expect it, but I like having it done to me, and I also like doing it. It makes everyone feel good.

Inevitable.

Monday: 2 pork tenderloins on the Weber, after marinating in EVOO, lime juice, garlic, onion, thyme, etc. Duck-fat roasted potatoes. Bread.

I figured you might know it. Well, it's in my backyard.

Dudette... in the oft used words of my current drinking hero (yes that's you NeroW)... I am NOT gonna touch that one. And you shouldn't either. At least not in your state.

We had some of these last weekend. They rock! Damn . . . wish I had one now.

You're a badass.

No way. I think that's why I actually ate 5 of those Satan wings.

OK. This (and the Sound of Music bacon song) is the funniest thing I have read on eG in a long time.

Beer.