I like to cook, but I am lazy. I try to invent new easy ways to cook things I am craving to eat. Today, I was craving an omelet.
Fried Egg Omelet
WHAT YOU NEED:
- Tablespoon or two of Oil
- 3 Eggs
- Cheese (Your favorite kind; some cheeses are very salty, and if so, I tend to refrain from using additional salt or too much salt)
- Garlic powder (Optional. Thanks for the tip, Roomie. You can also use your favorite hot sauce, spice, or seasoning.)
- Frying Pan (Preferably a smaller sized one. One that would fit three eggs perfectly.)
- Spatula
- Plate
- Fork
- Knife (Optional)
* Put pan on stove burner
* Add oil to pan
* Turn stove burner on (I use high heat, because I am lazy)
* Heat oil until it starts to spread thin across the pan
* Crack eggs on the edge of pan
* Put eggs into pan
* Let cook for about a minute
* Sprinkle some love like garlic powder or hot sauce or whatever
* Smother the top side with shredded cheese or cover with cheese slices
* Cook til cheese is about half melted, then flip one side onto the other (It will resemble an omelet shape.)
* Cook for another minute or two, maybe flipping after one minute (to get the otherside crispier)
* Slide onto Plate
It's Ina Garten's pizza dough recipe with tomato spinach mushroom and fresh mozzarella. It turned out well for a first try. I've never made anything involving
yeast before. I think ill try it on the grill this weekend. - Lis Rock
Is Black Bean Hummus something you ever think about making? If not, maybe you should - like all hummuses and hummus-like things, it's ridiculously easy (even easier than most regular hummuses, since rather than putting everything but the olive oil in the food processor first, and then drizzling in the oil as a second step, this recipe just throws everything all in at once). But not only is it easy, it has some fantastic crossover potential.
Hummus is good as a dip. Everyone knows that. Plenty of people also, like me, will put it in a sandwich as a spread - I tend to try throwing every new hummus that I make into a grilled cheese, although this one I didn't save enough for myself to try that, this time. It would've been fantastic, I promise. This also has a third really good application. At the lovely food blog Simply Life, there's a recipe for huevos rancheros with a black bean paste (which is what that link goes to). I made that, replacing the paste with this hummus (and also swapping a plain jalapeno for a chipotle, in the tomato sauce, as I nearly always do wherever a jalapeno is called for), and that was a big success! I not only recommend giving that a try, but I also recommend reading Simply Life - she has delicious recipes, thought-provoking posts, and occasional giveaways which I have never won. Perhaps you'll be the lucky one!
Sticking out of it there? That's a homemade tortilla chip. I mentioned making these in the last recipe, for the Corn Chili, but in case you were wondering how to make them:
Cut up some corn tortillas (I used the taco-sized kind)
Heat some canola oil in a deep pot - not a lot, a couple tablespoons is fine
When it's hot, throw a few slices of tortilla in. You don't want to crowd the pot, they'll lower the temperature of the oil and the chips won't get as crispy and will take longer to cook. Do it in batches.
Flip when they get golden on one side and cook until they're golden on the other.
Drain on paper towels.
So there you go! You've got tortilla chips, you've got Black Bean Hummus, you've got (I assume) a good book to read or an old movie on your DVR to watch, to what better use could you put your day?
Fair warning: in the post with the recipe for this Corn Chili, I spend quite a lot of time talking about the fact that we just adopted a cat; if you're my friend on Facebook, you've already heard it and seen the picture. So my apologies, if you don't care for discussion of kitties when you're just out to make some vegan chili.
And yes - this is vegan chili, at least if you use vegetable stock, like I did, or water, like the original recipe did. There wouldn't be anything wrong with using chicken stock if meat is not an issue for you, but I had veggie stock on hand, as I nearly always do since I make a big batch and freeze it, so that's what I used. But look at it: we've got beans, corn, green peppers, tomatoes, onions, garlic, and seasonings, and aside from the stock and the cooking oil, that's all you'll need! Obviously if you're me, you're going to serve it with a pile of cheese on top, but that certainly isn't required and it still stays vegetarian even in that case. I don't really trust the meltiness of vegan cheeses so I wouldn't say to substitute, but presumably vegans know their foodstuffs better than I do and if you've got something that works, go for it.
So not only is this good as nature intended, hot in a bowl with some toppings (including homemade tortilla chips!), but I have also enjoyed the leftovers as part of a burrito filling, drizzled the liquid into a grilled cheese sandwich, and I'm sure it would make a pretty good salsa served cold, because it's essentially black-bean-and-corn salsa. Which makes the valid point that you could probably heat up any salsa and just eat it with a spoon. Well, except the fruity kinds.
For today's entertainment, I'd like to introduce you (well, I assume this is an introduction, because you are not Canadians and specifically you are not British Columbians) to Kinnie Starr. Versatile, you want versatility? She's folk and hip-hop and rock, in English, French, and Spanish, and she brings in her First Nations heritage too. Today: This was one of the first songs I heard her play, at Folk Fest (by which I don't mean Newport, which is for snobs - I mean the Vancouver Folk Music Festival, where I spent my teenaged summers volunteering in the kitchen and seeing so many amazing artists for free. Sure, there were plenty of your to-be-expected folkies, earnest middle-aged ladies with a long grey braid, strumming an acoustic guitar, but it's also the first place I saw Tegan and Sara who are now doing arena tours (weird), a Romani band that started busking between actual stage sets, a pair of Basque brothers whose instruments were sort of crazy wooden xylophones they hit with huge mallets, a Polish band that played English drinking songs, Tanya Tagaq Gillis (whom I guess goes by just Tanya Tagaq now?), Billy Bragg, taiko drummers, Po' Girl... DOA played there one year, before my volunteering time. Fucking DOA! Oh Folk Fest, I love you.
So let's bring this back (somehow) to chili. Ahem. Like Folk Fest, you expect a certain thing out of it, and that is certainly something that you can get out of it, but it's really got something for everyone, and it's comfort food in the same way that Folk Fest is, or was, my comfort place. Look, spare everyone my tortured attempts at parallels here, and just go make some Corn Chili, ok?
Ok, so maybe "crusted" is a bit of a strong word. There isn't a crust per se, but one could say that these Herb-and-Garlic-Crusted Pork Chops are encrusted with the sage, rosemary, and garlic. That sounds pretty good right about now, right? After we got a surprise foot of snow and you've had to shovel and you need to be fortified. Or maybe you yourself didn't shovel, but you've had to slide around on the ice-strewn sidewalks of your neighborhood early in the morning, when it hasn't gotten warm enough to melt yet? That's work. Or maybe you don't have to deal with either of those things, but you were out at a show and had a late night and now you have to do laundry and clean the bathroom. Whatever it is that's tiring you out all day, this pork chop will put you back on track. Plus it's super easy, so you don't have to toil all day doing something and then also toil all evening in the kitchen.
For bonus points, its simple list of ingredients means that - as long as pork is on your approved foods list - this is going to work with a variety of dietary restrictions. Nothing it includes is made up of other things; you can look at the ingredients list and know immediately that it's going to work (or not work, I suppose, but I think the people for whom it does not work, outside of vegetarians and people who keep kosher/halal, is a short list). You've got pork chops, fresh herbs, garlic, salt and pepper, and oil to cook with, and that's it. Presumably if olive oil is forbidden by your diet, you can use a different, permitted cooking oil - that's something you're no doubt already familiar with and know what you like to do to make up for the difference in flavour (I'd throw in more pepper, to make up for the pepperiness of the olive oil, but to each their own tastes).
And now, we will accessorize this dish with, sure, a salad or something, but also: rock and roll. This selection also works for the Chorizo and Cannellini Bean Skillet I posted about last time, because that was a Spanish dish - I present to you - it may not be instantly obvious the point here, but if you listen to the song, and why wouldn't you, there's a line that asks "Why do they love the pig in Spain?" The answer being, presumably, because it's delicious in so many ways, or maybe that Spanish people know what's up. Or maybe the answer is just that this is a Dictators song and if you don't recognize the overwhelming awesomeness of Handsome Dick Manitoba (and go to his bar the next time you're in New York), then I don't really know what I can do for you. I guess the only thing I can really do at this point is give you the recipe for the Herb-and-Garlic-Crusted Pork Chops and just hope for the best.
Let's just start off by pointing out that this Chorizo and Cannellini Bean Skillet is one of my favourite things I've ever made. I've never made a top 5 list or what have you, but if I did, this would be on it.
Well and good. Now, on to talking about cast-iron. This dish requires a big pan, and my big pan is my 12" cast-iron skillet, which I got as a wedding present (so I suppose I should say we got it) and have been using nonstop since. It's not just useful for clonking people over the head with in the comics! You can cook in it on the stove as well as throw it in the oven, and its nearly 5 years of seasoning mean that it's rare that something should stick to it. The key, as every cast-iron-pan-owner knows, is not to ever wash it with soap. You can rinse it out with hot water and knock any bits of food off, obviously, we're not trying to get food poisoning here, but we're also trying to lock in vital oils and residues into the iron surface. You might think this would always make one dish have the flavour of the one before, but that's not really the case - although your more old-school chefs would insist that this not only occurs but is vital to the taste of anything they cook in the pan!
Also, I'm going to get back into the whole music-with-food thing and, since I skipped a week last week, I'm going to offer you two songs today.
First, since this is a Spanish dish, my obvious choice is The Only Band That Matters, the Clash, and Spanish Bombs:
Second, because this is MassBytes and here in Massachusetts chorizo means Portuguese food, here is a song about a Portuguese-accented part of the state: Ishmael, by Money Fight - you'll recognize the singer as Dug, who now sings in my husband's band, HookerClops. Oh, small world of local musicians!
Make this for delicious recipe for breakfast or dessert. It’s great for two and easy to double if desired. It’s only 350 calories per serving and uses all natural ingredients! An apple a day keeps the doctor away they say, but a few apples sweetened up with some brown sugar and honey will keep your sweet tooth at bay.
INGREDIENTS
4 Small Granny Smith Apples
2 TBSP of Honey or Sugar
½ Cup of Flour
3 TBSP of Smart Balance
1 TSP of Cinnamon
1 TSP Salt
¼ Cup of Dark Brown Sugar (Packed)
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 375° F.
Peel, core, then chop apples into cubes then arrange a layer on the bottom of two individual soufflé or other individual dishes.
In a bowl stir flour, cinnamon, and salt.
Add butter and to dry ingredients and mix together using hands.
Put mixture into food processor or blender, add brown sugar, and blend for about a minute.
Layer both apple dishes with mixture and bake for 25-30 minutes!
So, how much snow did your neighborhood get? Here in Roslindale, it doesn't look like there's a reporting station, but JP on one side got 25" and West Roxbury on the other got 25.5", so I figure we're right around there too. If you had to shovel, I know you're probably tired and sore, like me - I spent two hours and change out there and my arms and shoulders are stiff today - so what better to do that replenish all that energy by eating something hot and bubbly and really, really cheesy? To that end: Three-Cheese Baked Tortellini (that might actually have four cheeses in it).
You all know I'm never going to use words like "guilt-free" in relation to food, because I don't think eating should make you feel guilty in the first place and I'm certainly not out to tell you what you should and shouldn't eat. But if you are inclined to want to justify your dinner, first off shoveling is a workout, and second off you're hibernating right now. You need something to put a little meat on your bones - although this has no meat in it - to help insulate you! Obviously.
Do you have any ingredients in the house? Well, grocery stores are open again, so get your snow pants on and go buy out all the cheese in the store, and bake up a big pan of delicious Three-Cheese Baked Tortellini!
Let me tell you about an adventure in a land far away called Canada. In this land, the people are far nicer than our Boston brethren, the air is crisp, and the cities are sparse. Myself and a small band of friends spent New Year’s in a cabin three hours west of Toronto this year. On our way there, we braved the typical dangers found in far off mystical lands: tundra wolves attacking our car, hallucination-inducing snow storms, and sleep deprivation. But it was all worthwhile for the feast awaiting us.
The chef
One of the highlights of the weekend was the preparation and cooking of one Turducken, spearheaded by our friend Marc. For those of you that don’t know, a Turducken is a chicken in a duck in a turkey with three kinds of stuffing. This Turducken was a bit different than most in that it was Cajun style, and also has a Cornish hen at its core.
The birds
There were a number of steps required in creating the Turducken. The recipe that was used was a modified version of Chef Paul Prudhomme’s recipe.
First up was the deboning, followed by making a stock out of the remains. This process took quite a bit of time, as deboning is no simple task.
Deboning
Next up was the preparation of three kinds of stuffing that would form the layers between the birds. Shrimp, cornbread, and sausage stuffing were the order of the day. All three stuffing’s had the same base ingredients of: green bell peppers, onions, garlic, celery, butter, and breadcrumbs. The cornbread stuffing was slightly different since it also had giblets mixed in, which gave a nice counterpoint to the sweet cornbread. Each stuffing was seasoned with Cajun spice blends appropriate to the main ingredient. They were all great on their own, but I think my favorite was the sausage for the spicy, smoky flavor it had.
Three kinds of stuffing
At this point, the prep was done for the evening and parts needed to be kept fresh. Lacking in sufficient indoor refrigeration, we turned to the frozen outdoors. The birds and stuffing were left buried in a snowdrift in hopes of attracting a bear that we could stuff the monstrosity into for an extra layer of decadence. Sadly, there were no bears waiting for us in our patented Canadian bear trap the next morning.
The stuffing and skewering took a bit of finesse. The meat of each bird was laid flat and slathered with stuffing. Starting with the Cornish hen, followed by the chicken, duck, and turkey, the birds were wrapped around each other and skewered shut.
Skewered
The entire affair was then put in the oven, and 8 hours later a golden Turducken was born. The chef carved it into slices starting from the center and we were ready to eat.
The first slice
Core sample
We topped it with savory gravy comprised of eggplant, sweet potatoes, onions, and stock. A touch of brown sugar, cream, and some spices completed the thick, tangy concoction.
The gravy
We all dug in and as soon as I had taken my first bite, I was in love. Each bite was moist and bursting with flavor. Even though one slice was enough to fill me up, I still wanted more. The stuffing mingled perfectly with the meats, adding an array of spicy and sweet flavors. Of all the home cooked meals I’ve had, the Turducken (hen) was up there. The process of everyone working together, along with the amazing taste, made for a fun experience.
The slice
The recipe was supposed to feed 24-30 people, but by the time the 12 of us were done eating, we had demolished about three quarters of it. For some reason we also had fettuccine alfredo, the perfect side to add to this meal of excess.
All together the preparation took two days, countless hours and involved five or so people between all the steps. I would highly recommend that everyone attempt making a Turducken sometime in their life, as long as they have a group of friends willing to help.
Want seafood and/or Italian?? Make this dish to satisfy your craving, and if you don’t like shrimp you can substitute the recipe with chicken! This dish almost makes you feel bad for eating it because of how delicious it tastes, but with only 450 calories a serving, you can eat it guilt free. This dish would average 1200 calories AT LEAST in a restaurant AND cost a lot! You’ll notice below I don’t tell you how much of each seasoning to add because I want every cook to tailor the recipe to their own taste buds, so have fun with it! This dish is low calorie, low fat, low sodium but high in flavor!
INGREDIENTS
- 12 oz of shrimp or 8 oz of chicken
- 5 oz of Barilla Plus Bow Tie or Twist Pasta
- 1 Small Bag of Frozen Vegetables (Broccoli, Cauliflower, and Carrots)
- 1 TB of Smart Balance Oil
- Lemon Pepper, Garlic Pepper, Italian Seasoning, Garlic Powder, Parsley, Red Pepper Flakes
- 1/4 cup of Chicken Broth
- 1/4 cup of Cooking Wine (White)
DIRECTIONS
1) Peel and remove shells from shrimp. In a resealable bag, combine the seasonings, cooking white wine, olive oil, and the shrimp. Set aside to marinate.
2) Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Add the pasta and cook until just tender, 2 minutes less than instructed on the package. Put frozen vegetables in a microwavable container with a 1/4 inch of water and microwave for a minute less than the instructions on the bag.
3) Heat a large skillet to medium and mix chicken broth with cooked pasta and vegetables. Season lightly with the seasonings listed above. At the same time pour the marinade and shrimp into in a smaller skillet and cook shrimp on medium high until they turn pink and start to caramelize, about 3-4 minutes
4) Once shrimp is cooked, add shrimp and all of marinade to the larger skillet containing the pasta, vegetables, and chicken broth. Toss all ingredients together and serve immediately.
Ok, so maybe I am going to drop my "food with a side of music" conceit for a week here because what I have for you today is Slow-Cooker Chicken Noodle Soup, which really needs no extra hook (see what I did there?). It's winter, we're all sick and cold and tired, and this is something you barely even need to chop anything for. You do a bare minimum of prep, throw everything in the slow-cooker, and go watch VH1 clip shows, wrapped in a blanket on the couch, for a few hours.
Now granted, most of the flavour is going to be delivered via the stock you use, so use one you like - or make your own, if that's a thing you do (and I don't; I just make vegetable stock since I don't roast chickens nearly ever, weirdly enough). But you know, if you're feeling under the weather and just want to get this done, there is absolutely nothing wrong with grabbing a can of store-brand chicken broth and calling it a day. That's what I did!
So: off you go. Go make some Slow-Cooker Chicken Noodle Soup. Me, I'm going to go back to coughing up substances of a color not found in nature.
I bring this latest composition to you with the reminder that we should never take anything too seriously. This disclaimer comes as any true foodie or chef is sure to scoff at my latest culinary endeavor…involving imitation crab.
There I said it. I didn't mean to but it just happened. Somehow in my ritual grocery excursion, overwhelmed with possibilities and delirious from life, this effing fake-o crab really-I’m-fish-protein snuck its way into my cart. You can imagine my disappointment when I realized my error. It’s like going to shack up with someone the first time and finding out they’re the wrong gender. Ouch. However, I’m not the sort of character to return things, preferring to move forward than rewind, so I schemed to make lemonade.
Leary of the ensuing flavors this pseudo-crustacean had to offer, I decided to play it safe and drown it in richness that could make plastic look appetizing. And so my *ahem* crab dip unfolds. I explored multiple recipes, settled on none, and eyeballed the following ingredients together with my fingers crossed:
1 lb Crab(ish) Meat
6 cloves minced garlic
1 ½ c shredded cheese (I mixed dutch and cheddar with a lil’ parm)
½ c chopped parsley
1 t lemon juice
¾ c mayo (don’t be gross and use miracle whip- this dish is maxed out on fake food)
1 t hot sauce
black pepper/ dry mustard/ salt/ cayenne to your liking
Throw these puppies together, stir, and bake in a 350 degree oven for about a 35 minutes. Devoured with some bread or crackers and it’s actually quite lovely. Cheers to adventures in improv cooking!
This is the second thing I made for my mom's little box-o-treats, and it's a traditional Christmas cake or bar from Germany (or maybe just from Berlin; it's unclear whether this is a local tradition or a regional or national one) - Berliner Brot. Actually, I'm relying on the recipe's source to say that it's anyone's tradition anywhere at all; I've never been to Germany and wouldn't know. But it's plausible - it's not too sweet (European tastes in desserts are rather less sweetened than their American counterparts), studded with nuts, and it has booze in it. That's right! There's a tablespoon of rum in it. How much rum there is in the baker is, of course, a matter of personal preference.
One German blogger, Baltic Maid (she currently lives in the US, so her recipes call for ingredients you could easily find in an American grocery store - give her a read!), says that German cooking is focused on the more savory end of the scale the rest of the year, not too much in the way of cookies and such, except at Christmas when various seasonal treats are baked. While that isn't the case here - we, by which I specifically mean me, eat cookies year-round - we do have that Christmas-cookie tradition in some parts of the country and by a certain segment of the population (aunts, mainly) where the holiday season turns into an orgy of baking and platters of varied cookies are on the table after the big family feastathon.
What about you and your family? What food traditions do you keep? Have you imported some from other countries, or created new ones (or both)? Would you like to inject a little bit of Berlin into your traditions? Because if so, Berliner Brot would like to be your new friend. Heck, shake up tradition - make it for a non-Christmas occasion, why not? Otherwise you'd have to wait nearly a year to have it, and that would just be cruel.
1. Measure out one cup of raw almonds.
2. Soak overnight (five to eight hours).
3. Drain Almonds.
4. Blend Almonds with four cups of water.
5. Add sweetener and/or flavoring (vanilla extract, dates, agave)
6. Pour into milk nut bag or cheesecloth.
7. Enjoy.
Sometimes I read the cookbooks or blogs or other writings of fancy chef types - the sort of people whose restaurants I would feel dreadfully out of place in. While it's rare that I'll actually make something of theirs, generally because their ingredients tend to be arcane and require me to drop a bunch of money on something I'll use once, I have learned a bit and picked up some understandings of techniques and dishes that I may never make or even see.
This lovely, simple, straightforward Rosemary Chicken is not such a dish - you barely even have to cut anything! - but the next day, you'll find that you may have inadvertently gotten fancy, or perhaps that your leftovers have gotten fancy in your fridge, without you. As you may know, in the south of France, meat has long been preserved in its own rendered fat, so it's cooked to heat and melt the fat, the meat is submerged in it, and then it is cooled, and that this is called confit. Well, this is not quite the same thing, but when you put the leftovers in the fridge, in the cooking liquid, the fat will solidify and rise to the top and form a "lid" over the remaining liquid and chicken. Pretty cool!
Here it is with some mashed potatoes which - when you're cooking the potatoes, instead of water (or instead of all water), use stock. So much more flavour!
As you might know, I'm not from here. I've lived in Boston the past 8 years (and one year when I was a child), but I'm from Vancouver. Naturally, there are going to be some differences in terms of what food is like, what is common and uncommon, and even what different foods are called. Some of this is going to be due to the Canada-vs-US difference, and some is going to be an east-west thing - for instance, in Vancouver, General Whoever's chicken - the Chinese-restaurant staple? I said "Whoever" because the name seems to change from region to region - is totally unknown. But I didn't encounter that here first, but in Montreal when I lived there in college. So I think that's an east-west difference. After all, our population in Vancouver includes a high proportion of people who have come from China, so what we see there Chinese-food-wise tends to reflect the tastes of actual Chinese people (I had never even heard of Crab Rangoons - which make no sense since they have cream cheese in them, which is not exactly a staple of Chinese cuisine, AND they're named for the capital of Burma - until I moved to Boston).
Some other things are in common between here and there, but different from other parts of the world. For instance, I bet you, like me, don't have a particular name for spaghetti sauce. It's... spaghetti sauce. If there's meat in it, it's meat sauce. And I'm even quote-unquote Italian! But in England, perhaps because of their relative proximity to Italy, they call it by its real name - bolognese. I got this recipe from an English food blog, so Chorizo Bolognese it is!
But this has regional ties over here, too. While it might be Italian food from an English blog, it's got chorizo in it, which of course is featured in Portuguese cooking and of course there's a sizeable Portuguese community here in Massachusetts. Boom! I bring it around.
Want to bring this around... your kitchen table? Ooh. I did that. Yeah. So anyway, chorizo is fantastic in everything, and if you haven't been putting it in your pasta sauce, as I hadn't been, kick yourself for not thinking of this sooner and make it for yourself!
How do I know this recipe will be a hit with you guys, my MassByting friends? Because a) it's balls, and b) it's got bacon. If I know you, you might have a tough time turning down something that hits the bullseye like that.
It's Turkey and Bacon Meatballs, which means they are made out of ground turkey (duh) and ground bacon. GROUND BACON YOU GUYS. Now I don't know about you, but that isn't something that ever crossed my mind as a foodstuff... but it's real, and, much like that woman's boobs on Seinfeld, it's spectacular. And it's easy! All you need is a food processor (and some bacon, obviously).
Then all you need to do is mix together the ground bacon and all the other ingredients and make them into balls, and bake them. Then simmer them in some sauce for extra excellence. Easy - and versatile too, since you can eat them by themselves, in a meatball sub, on pasta... whatever floats your boat.
By the way, I wanted to be sure to call them "Turkey AND Bacon Meatballs," rather than "Turkey-Bacon Meatballs," because I didn't want people to confuse them for meatballs made out of turkey bacon. Turkey bacon is a travesty.
I know all you MassBytes readers out there love vegetables. I know I don't have to bribe you by soaking them in booze first to get you to eat them. But consider: you're reading a food blog. You already get all jazzed about delicious in-season produce. I know, however, that - like me - you probably cook for people who aren't necessarily as enthused by the bounty of the season or what have you. And that's fine, there are plenty of things I don't get excited about that I'll tolerate for the people in my life, and they'll do the same for me, and that's what society is based on.
I brought them to Thanksgiving, and even though there were no kids there, don't worry, you can bring them to your next family gathering too - the actual alcohol cooks off and just leaves a slight kick in the flavour. Or just make them for yourself - eating boozy vegetables alone is not at all the same as actually drinking alone. Honey-Whiskey Carrots!
Surely you've heard of it. Perhaps you even participate in one. I'm talking about the event known as "Friendsgiving." Necessity, or maybe loneliness, was the mother of invention in this case: people who couldn't get home to celebrate Thanksgiving with their family, or maybe people for whom their family was unpleasant or gone, but who still wanted the warmth of a big family meal at this particularly emotionally fraught time of year. So they got a bunch of friends together and did Thanksgiving that way!
Now, that is not exactly what I made these unbelievable Chai Bars for. I went to regular Thanksgiving with my husband's family (in fact, I'm eating leftover mashed potatoes as I write this!). But my work has had a tradition, which was not observed the last 2 years, of having "work Thanksgiving" - after all, my company's name even has "giving" right in it! - and I'm fortunate to work amongst some great cooks (only one of whom used to do it for a living), so obviously it was a delicious feast and we all went up a pants size.
What I brought were these Chai Bars, which bring all the warm, seasonal flavours of chai (which, hang on, people drink chai all year round, seasonal what?) to a fine-crumbed, slightly sweet bar. I wish I had taken the leftovers home; I would have demolished the entire pan myself. Or maybe that means I don't wish I'd taken them home!
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