Meet Earl the Squirrel

No, this post isn't advocating squirrel meat as the "other white meat"...

This guy (we'll call him Earl) is my poster child for SUPERTUMMY, which I covered in the previous post "Cost Analysis of Comfort Food". Read on if you'd like to learn more about Supertummy and how to avoid it's appearance...which looks much cuter on squirrels than it does on humans.

Cost Analysis of Comfort Food

Any idiot can tell you that eating out is WAY more expensive than cooking at home, but I'm going to reiterate. Dining out is an atrocious expense (albiet, pleasurable). And I've got a perfect case-in-point:

Daddy is visiting Savannah for a few days, and although I have never had a bad meal here (with the exception of a $5 dinner at Sakura that looked like it went straight from the freezer aisle and onto my plate...) I've eaten around enough to know that my home cooking is right on par -- not to mention, nutritionally superior -- to anything we would go out and pay for in Savannah. Plus, we've done the crab cakes, sweet potatoes, pecan pie, shrimp n' grits thing a dozen times and I'm pretty sick of comfort food that leaves my wallet feeling uncomforably light and my butt feeling suddenly saggy. So instead, I prepared my own southern-ish meal with the help of Kroger and a Cuisinart... for one-sixth of the dine-out price!! AND it was delicious! AND we have leftovers! The benefits are insane.

Menu planning was easy. Southern flavors without all the lard (thanks anyway, Paula Deen). I endeavored to make:

*creamy corn chowder
*roasted sweet potatoe medallions
with maple glaze
*(save room for dessert)

What? You think that's not enough? Sure, it looks like 2 side dishes - and heck, maybe it is - but that's the great thing about cooking at home...no one is going to look at me funny for 'ordering' soup and a side dish for my meal. The truth is, a bowl of chowder and some starchy sweet potatoes fit perfectly in the average American stomach. But when we eat out we suddenly feel like we have SUPERTUMMY, which can stretch to accommodate weeks worth of food (see photo below). And boy, are we impressive in showing off it's Supertummy strength...Look how it fits the bread, the salad, the entree, and oh wow...it can even hold dessert! Good show, Supertummy. Good show, indeed.

Anyway, I was trying to avoid another episode of Supertummy, who always seems to make an appearance when I'm seated at a fancy restaurant. He's gotten far too much attention lately. Plus, avoiding a restaurant bill makes me feel triumphant. Do you want to know how much I spent on dinner for 3 at Chez Grassroots Gourmand (aka: my kitchen)? Well, I DO, so I'm adding it up right now...where is that receipt?

CREAMY CORN CHOWDER
- frozen corn, $1.25
- red bell pepper, $1.04
- onion, $ .87
- milk $ 2.99
- vegetable broth, $3.39
- oil, salt, pepper, secret spices (...all stuff I've got around already)

CHOWDER FOR 3 = $9.54

ROASTED SWEET POTATOES:
- 2 microwave sweet p's, $1.79 each
- maple syrup, oil, salt, cinnamon, vanilla, nutmeg(...got it already!)

POTATOES FOR 3 = $3.58

TOTAL Meal cost at Chez GG= $13.12

Cost per person at Chez GG: $4.37

WOW. I just spent $13 food for 3 people, instead of what...$25 a head somewhere downtown? Now, does anyone care about this price breakdown as much as I do? I'm guessing no. And that's why these blog things are so great...I can just PRETEND that you all are reading it. But really, you're just looking at the pictures and thinking 'why is she adding up her grocery list? Oh well, those sweet potatoes look good..'

My point is: the benefits of eating IN are too numerous to list. I could write a book about it! (A unanimous 'Please don't' can be heard right now). For now, I'll just give you my top 3 reasons for entertaining at home vs. paying a man in a white coat to have all the fun for you:

1) YOU are in control. Ah, control...such a beautiful word.

2) No make-up or bra-wearing is required. Not at my table, anyway.

3) You don't have to pay that awful extra expense called a "TIP" (that's a whole 'nother blog posting...don't get me started)

I still like to eat out, but only if you're paying. Otherwise I'm just going to be stubborn and arrogant and say, I can do it myself!! Which, I clearly can. Pureeing chowder? slicing sweet potatoes? Why should I pay someone to do that?!

So, come on over and we'll play restaurant. And don't worry, the tip's always included.

FOOD PORN

Like some people collect postcards or spoons or cigars from the places they visit, I collect photos of the food I ate. This, to me, is the best way to remember a vacation. Though, the "v-word" is hardly what travelling feels like these days...geesh! Ah well, all the more reason to take pleasure in the everyday simplicity of a surprisingly good meal.

Here are some of my favorite foodie memories, with photos to match. Note how the cuisine has nothing to do with the place I ate it. For example, sushi in Cape Cod, chevre in Nebraska, tacos in New York....Oh, how I love discovering a culture within a culture, especially when it's edible.



Ricotta & Lamb Meatballs/ Fish Tacos with Pineapple-Jicama Slaw, NYC 2006






Sri Lankaan vegetarian curries, Santa Cruz 2005

French Cheese & Olive Plate, Omaha 2006 Seaweed & Daikon Salad, Cape Cod 2005 (obviously an American-sized portion)
Huckleberry Soft-Serve, Bonners Ferry ID 2006 (in the peak of Huckleberry season)

This is just a sampler. I've got a lot more to dig up, and a lot more to come!

Feeling Catty

If you were an animal, what would you be?

Now, don't tell me you've never been asked that before. It's a question sort of related to that philosophy that people resemble their dogs - which is terrifyingly true 90% of the time- so, naturally I've wondered what kind of self-resembling canine I might end up with one day, IF I ever succumb to that particular brand of subconcious narcissism.

I can't come up with an answer, for 2 reasons. ONE: I can't stand dogs (those smelly, sheddy, needy, drooling things). And if that ever changes you can assume that aliens have stolen my brain in the middle of the night and replaced it with rotten Purina. And TWO: I have so many cat-like qualities that it's impossible to imagine myself resembling a dog, even the most nimble, doe-eyed, prissy little mutt. Nope, I'm catty to the core. And today's feeding menu confirmed it.

At 11am I found myself craving the cold filet of salmon leftover from dinner a couple...eh, give or take...nights ago. I wasn't quite sure if I truly wanted to eat the salmon (since I'm really more of a whitefish person) or if I was just trying to avoid throwing away a perfectly edible piece of food. Now, I'm fine with tossing out an old yogurt, a package of stale cookies, or a moldy jar of salsa. Anything mass-produced, preservative-enhanced, and competitively-priced has no real place in my heart. I know these so-called "foods" are a dime a dozen (at best) and no special care or time went into their production. No housewife had to schedule her day around its preparation. And the most offensive part is: No one made it with my satisfaction in mind. Dannon, Pepperidge Farm, and Newman's Own don't care about me, so I can toss that stuff like the trash it's meant to be.

BUT, it's things like a well-marinated salmon flank, charred to perfection with a hint of tamari and dill that I really have a hard time saying goodbye to. It's not every night that someone's mother sends me home with one of these, right?

Psychoanalysis complete, I was ready to enjoy this last rendezvous with fishy. I sat down to my hotel room "dining" table, popped the top on my tupperware and grabbed a...where's a fork? a knife? even a coffee stirrer would do the trick, but alas, I was living the life of a modern nomad, with no utincels to call my own. Hmmm...

And that's when my cat instincts kicked in without a second thought. I pawed away at my pink filet , so tender and cool and... inescapably reminiscent of cat food...and thought, this is the way it was meant to be. Cold fishy finger food can be so satisfying (when no one's looking). I'm sure it's the primal stage of being able to appreciate more pretentious little delicacies like caviar or pate. So really, my cat-food episode was just a good indication that I'm cut out for a life of schmoozing with Russian patriarchs and French dignitaries, confidently chomping away at seasoned intestines and aborted fish eggs. Mmmm, I can't wait!

**PS - I swear I don't like cats this much, but Google had too many photos to resist. Such seductive little creatures, aren't they?

My $75 Cookie Date

When I agreed to meet a friend for a mid-day cookie date at The Chippery in Dallas, I had no idea it would turn out to be so expensive. The warm Snickerdoodles and Vanilla Cokes were a reasonable $5, but something about the comfort food made me comfortable enough to roll through a thoroughly red stop light on my way out of the shopping center.
That’s right – the cookies made me do it. It was green, then yellow, then red. Look at all the pretty colors…la dee da…

After coasting past the other rational drivers sitting behind the white line, I looked in the rearview mirror and a chill came over me. My stomach turned over as I realized there was a reason all those other drivers paid respect to the yellow light.

It was those curious wired devices sitting on top of the lights that struck me. As I kept driving I noticed these “Little Big Brothers” on nearly every intersection in Dallas and I was horrified. Why oh why, you stupid lazy woman?!?! I never run red lights….I hardly tip the speedometer over the speed limit…I am a staunch utilizer of the blinker…and most of all I AM OBSESSED WITH FOLLOWING RULES. It makes me feel cozy and secure. Not superior, just secure. What in the world had gotten into me as I watched the light turn red before my very eyes?! I didn’t even speed up. I just floated right through…warm Snickerdoodles…la dee da…

The only answer is this: the cookies. They had put a spell on me. I just wasn’t myself for that brief moment of lingering pleasure. Of course, this argument will mean nothing to a camera snapping a photo of my license plate meandering through a still intersection, so I am left to kick myself and live up to the fact that, well… I deserve it. There, I said it! I deserve to pay the $75 for my actions, or lack of action, or delayed reaction, or whatever that mysterious phenomenon was which I’m certain will come back to haunt me once the rental car company tracks down my address. From now on, I’m sticking to salad for lunch, and considering starting a crime-prevention organization…just say no to cookies.

Meal Resume - a weekend worth remembering

It doesn't seem right to have so many sensual moments in the span of a mere 24 hours, but with the right hosts it can be done, and quite shamelessly too. From Saturday afternoon to Sunday evening I experienced what I imagine is an ideal weekend for a true gourmand (though I would still classify myself as a wannabe foodie, slowing working my way up the "food-chain", by eating my way higher and higher...). Here's 3 remarkable meals to add to my resume:

Dinner @ Bluefish Grill (sushi)...a smorgasbord of rolls (can you use a German word to describe a Japanese meal?), the most memorable being the Dynamite: a California roll (truly boring and very 1990s, I admit) but completely covered - and I mean unrecognizable as the roll it once was - in a soft shell crab gratin. A gooey, glistening mound of topaz-tinted seafood. Mmmm... The plate was a mayonaissey mess when it arrived, but like all fat-laden foods, the taste was simply irresistible.

After-dinner drinks @ ZaZa Bar...Kir Royales, Cranberry Martinis, and a mysterious caffeineated pick-me-up that tasted far too virtuous to be an alchoholic beverage. But my nap on the toilet seat proved that it was clearly an adult apartif...whoops! Always a sucker for free drinks. Or, the "scholarship program", as our drink sponsor for the night so graciously put it. Unfortunately for him though, he ended up buying drinks for "the mom and two virgins"!! Better luck next time, buddy!

Breakfast buffet....the detox menu included 2 cups of tea, 3 asprin, some fresh pineapple, watermelon, almond croissants, Scottish crumb cake, and buckwheat pancakes. Hoping to flush out the remnants of raw fish and hard liquor from the night before and make room for another round of fine dining to come. Very soon, actually...

Lunch @ La Duni Latin Bakery...When you have limited stomach space, it's crucial to read the dessert menu first. This we did, and determined to allot enough room for a slice of tres leches. Passing on this authentic - not to mention award-winning - delicacy would be like going to Vatican City and not paying a visit to the Sistene Chapel. Even if you're not Catholic, or religious, or artsy, you just do it because it's the right thing to do. Much is the same with an opportunity to taste real tres leches cake. So, after my fresh-squeezed grapefruit juice and huevos y salsa (keeping it simple, anticipating more decadence to come) we made a final decision on dessert. We abandoned the idea of the always-incredible tres leches -- which was actually quatro leches at La Duni - and seized the day by ordering the Panque de Limon; a tantilizing combination of Vanilla Matecade Sponge Cake, Lemon-Lime Citrus Curd, topped with Carmelized Swiss Meringue and...yes, AND...drizzled with Rasperry Coulis. I was dizzy with delight just reading the description. Each tart, soggy bite lived up to my lusty expectations.

Dinner @ Mi Cocina....my cake & egg lunch had hardly settled when we decided on Mexican for dinner. Pace yourself, I thought...you can do this...just have a bite of whatever and take the rest home. Impossible! When the plate of individually-piled nachos (beef and beans and cheese, oh my!) and the glorious vatt of guacamole was staring me in the face, I had to at least find out what all the fuss was about. Then, once my mouth was burning from the "medium" heat, and the waiters neglected to replenish my water, I was forced to neutralize the burn with chips and more salsa. And more and more...By the time my grilled tilapia and green rice arrived I was able to follow my "just one bite" rule. Not so much because of willpower but physiological restrictions and belt-hole limits.

Oh, what a night...and morning, and afternoon, and night again! Sometimes I feel like my life can be documented in meals. Which I suppose is the purpose of this whole blogging thing anyway. I always had a reason to eat well, but now I reason to remember every little detail. That side sauce, or those fresh-out-of-the-oven rolls, or the liquid/ solid texture on the bottom layer of that cake...if I'm not careful, the devil might start sneaking into the details. Moderation; someday I will learn the art. For now, practice makes better!

Thanks Julia!

Because of her shamelessly hearty appetite for "la bon vie", Julia Child (via her delicious memoir, My Life in France) has given me permission to take matters into my own hands, just as she did nearly 80 years ago in her ill-equipped kitchen in Paris. It's amazing where a little curiosity and creativity can take you...

For me, food has never been mere sustenence. There's a dangerously passionate synergy involved in ...a borderline spiritual experience (no sacriledge intended), because every scrap becomes the stuff we are made of. I truly believe the age-old cliche "you are what you eat". So, naturally, I'm on a quest for the best. It's the only way to live.

Now, I don't mean to sound elitist. The "best" does not come served on a silver platter. It's not found on the menu of a 5-star restaurant. It need not be pricey, decorous, exotic, or time-consuming. The best foods -- and best food encounters -- start with a grassroots approach. Simpler is often tastier. Cheaper is always more enjoyable. And unfussed-with foods make us feel supremely human. Sometimes the "best" food comes straight off the tree with a few worm-holes. But, of course, I can appreciate more labor-intensive dishes as well...

I must confess, this blog (ah, I detest the word!) is created with semi-selfish motives. I need an outlet for the abundance of recipes, restaurants, culinary epiphanies, foodie fantasies, and embarrassing moments in consumerism (now, those need a file of their own!) that are taking up space on my mental hard-drive. It's time to purge the system.

So, here goes...

I'm starting with my roots. I love food. And with love comes a natural desire to learn. I do realize there's much more to life than food. But, what a wonderful catalyst it is for living a life full of novelty, openness, adventure, and friendship. It's power to bond us to each other is tangible and potent.

Every day -- or every meal, rather -- is an opportunity for learning, loving, and living "la bon vie". Whatever it is your roots are emersed in, be it cooking, writing, needlepoint, fly-fishing...I hope you'll be inspired to water them and see what grows. Who knows, it may even be edible!

The Grassroots Gourmand