I need to have a conversation with food about this

Every once in a while I play a game with the blogs I read. It's kind of the blog version of the ARG term "down the rabbit hole". It goes a little something like this:

I choose a blog that I read on a regular basis, go to their blog roll in the sidebar, and randomly click on another blog. I keep doing this over and over again until I am so far away from the blog I started with, that I almost can't remember what it was.

One of the blogs that I found in a friend's sidebar was Cookie Madness. I dig this blog because her baking technique appears to be the same as mine - which is to say, we both like to experiment with flavors, have an intuition about what combinations work well together, and aren't slaves to the recipe in front of us.

As far as I'm concerned, presentation can be a necessary part of cooking, and sure, I like things to look pretty on the platter - but it's more important that it taste good. I think that one of the secrets to cooking in general is that you have to be excited about eating the results, or be excited about serving the results to someone. Not because you want to impress them, but because you truly want them to enjoy the meal. Things taste better when they come from the heart. Empty showmanship tastes like shit. There's your pull quote. Ka-kow!

I found an entry where she listed her top ten recipes - and listed on there was something she called "Frito Candy". It was something she threw together because she thought it would taste good. I've done this too - threw together things I thought would taste good as a candy -- but this took it to another level. Kind of like showing Einstein your baking soda volcano that you made for the science fair.

Frito candy is fritos and pretzels broken up and sprinkled with peanut butter cups, then covered with unsalted butter and brown sugar that you have boiled into a caramel, bake that for a few minutes, then top with semi sweet morsels, which you then spread over the concoction as it melts. Leave it in the fridge till it's hard, then break it up like toffee.

The results? Holy. Mother. Of. God.

I added some white chocolate chips to the mix, because they don't melt the way semi-sweet does, so that way, every once in a while you get a lump of yum with your omgyum.

Frito Candy. Slowing your heart down with every bite.

Ka-kow!

One of the many things about being (briefly) pregnant that I found mind boggling, (ONE of the MANY), was how my relationship with food changed.

Our first hint that something might be *different* about me? We were out to dinner at our favorite Korean place, and Vinny said he noticed that rather than slowing down as I got full, I hit a dead stop - practically pushed myself away from the table.

We were at a movie screening a few weeks later, and he asked me if I wanted something from the concession stand. I looked at the candy displayed in front of me, and it all looked like colorful plastic. Completely inedible. I declined. As we stepped up to the counter, I suddenly said, "Grape Juice! I want Grape Juice!" Vinny looked at me like I had 12 heads. I am not a juice drinker. We found our seats and I drank my juice, exclaiming all the while, "This is DELICIOUS! Why don't I order grape juice more often?" Vinny just considered me for a bit, then said, "It's weird how there's somebody else controlling you now."

The experience taught me in no uncertain terms that in situations like this, You Are Not In Charge. Any intentions I had -- good or bad, were blown out of the water. Mother Nature laughed in my face.

I had a package of cookies from Japan that I was saving. My promise to myself was that I was going to open them up when I found out I was pregnant, and treat myself to one or two. Which I did. I treated myself to one. And it tasted so disgusting to me, I spit it out. Bad Intention: PWND. I intended to eat healthy. I wasn't going to deny myself treats here and there, but, since "Eating for Two" really only means adding another 300 or so calories to your daily intake, I vowed to continue eating the way I eat regularly, which is pretty healthy - and not use the pregnancy as a free pass to Pieville. Good Intentions: PWND. I was so nauseated all the time, that I could barely keep anything down. So much for my plans. Life became a big game of "please let me be able to eat this, whatever it may be." Believe me, that changed from day to day.

Naturally, after I had the miscarriage, I finished that package of Japanese cookies, and went ahead and cashed in on a week's pass to Pieville. There was a drive-by coffee cake encounter somewhere in there as well, but it's kind of hazy.

This blog is about relationships with food, and I am currently having an affair with Cilantro Pecan Dip from Trader Joe.

O Cilantro Pecan Dip, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Spread on a tortilla, with turkey and provolone and some roasted red peppers. Oh my goodness, be still my heart.

Coating a floret of broccoli or cauliflower, where it's not so much a question of veggies-and-dip as having an edible utensil with which to spoon up big globs of dip.

On a panini, with any sandwich fillings you want, because here again all the other ingredients are really just an excuse to eat the dip.

Or the best of all. I mix the cilantro dip with some peach salsa and use it as a dressing on a spinach salad, with leftover grilled chicken and some crumbled goat cheese. This is so tasty you could get drunk off the bliss.

I decided to write about weird food combinations in a new post rather than as a comment in what's-her-butt's post, BECAUSE I CAN.

BECAUSE I CAN is reason enough for some of the lamest acts in history.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite meals was spaghetti with cole slaw. Cole slaw at our house consisted of chopped up green cabbage and mayonnaise. I never cared for deli cole slaw or any kind other than CABBAGE and MAYONNAISE. And none of that crappy stuff--it had to be Best Foods mayonnaise (or Hellmann's, as some of you might know it) and LOTS of it. The delicious combination was to mix the cole slaw with the spaghetti, so the mayonnaise and red meat sauce became the color of thousand island dressing. Fucking awesome. I still did that as an adult, until I stopped eating mayonnaise.

Speaking of mayonnaise: when I was little, I used to make mayonnaise sandwiches (a piece of white bread slathered in mayonnaise, folded over and eaten). Yummy. Gross, but yummy.

My dad would eat green bean sandwiches. He'd butter up a piece of white bread, put cold leftover green beans on it, fold it over and shove the entire thing in his mouth and somehow manage to chew it enough to swallow.

Also when I was little, sometimes I'd scoop up some butter on my potato chip. How disgusting is that? Then again, I'd eat Nestlé Quik straight from the can by the spoonful. I was big into baking as a child and once I creamed butter and sugar together just to eat it. Fat and sugar addict, anyone? And I was a runty kid too.

Now I eat things that SOME people think are odd, but I don't. I like tomato and cucumber sandwiches on white bread. I like cheese and pickle sandwiches, specifically, extra sharp cheddar cheese and garlic stackers on rye bread.

As a teenager I got into the habit of heating up in the microwave a flour tortilla with only Taco Bell taco sauce on it. I still do that sometimes now. Oh yeah, I eat it after I heat it up. I don't just let it sit there. What do you think I am--dumb or something? Don't answer that. What is also good is to put some chocolate in there, such as a couple of Hershey's miniature milk chocolate bars. The taco sauce chocolate combination is good. I like my food the way I like my men: spicy, sweet, and weird. Or something.

I am sure there are others, but that's all I can think of now.

pita OUT.

I was at a BBQ recently and they were serving sausages. Not hot dogs, sausages. No hamburgers. Just all kind of sausages. I don't really like sausages. Maybe breakfast sausage once in a while but for the most part, a resounding meh. So there I was - not a hamburger in site and yet, and yet, they SAID it was a BBQ!!

I dunno, BBQ to me denotes the presence of hot dogs and hamburgers. Maybe chicken breasts and veggie burgers or portabello mushrooms for our vegetarian friends. But that's not why I'm writing this.

The real reason I am writing this is because, at said BBQ, I resorted to something that is a massive guilty pleasure for me, and I thought I would put it out there and see if I get a yum or ew from you.

A slice of white bread, or a roll, slathered with butter and topped with baked beans. It's really a baked beans sandwich with butter as your condiment.

"What kind of baked beans?" You might be asking right now... (or you might be vomiting in the trashcan next to your desk) Why, I'm glad you asked, because any kind will do! Bacon and Brown sugar - Vegetarian, bbq baked beans - any of the baked bean variety, as long as they are warm enough to melt the butter just a bit.

God, I love this...creation. I think I got it from my dad. He puts butter on everything.

Does anyone else have something like this that they eat - some magical combination they've stumbled upon that is so wrong that it's oh so right? Or so wrong that it's just wrong?

For instance, my husband introduced me to the wonder of potato chips and whipped cream cheese. Is it hot in hell where he reigns? I wonder sometimes, because I am not a *salty* person, but boy howdy I'll eat that. Turns out it's a family thing - I was horrified the first time I had my in-laws over, and he put that out with the other nibbly bits - but not only did they consume it, but were non-plussed at it's presence. It clearly BELONGED there.

Do I hear a PB&J with potato chips in the center? Biscuits with chocolate gravy? I know you're out there.... frying up oreos and mixing up doritos with M&M's....

Ok, so, I am trying to lose weight. My entire life I was thin, until about 5 years ago, when I started to gain. I actually was one of those people who could eat all I wanted and what I wanted and not gain weight. Because of that, I never had to diet (I know, wa wa, poor me, who cares). I did go on a diet last year for the first time and it worked--I lost 20 lbs. in about 4 mos., and guess what? I gained it all back, just like they say happens. Sometimes "they" are SMRT. Well, I am trying it again, and by gum, I hope to NOT gain it back, but it's not like I am Ms. Optimistic about anything, so we'll see.

Anyway, I started counting calories a few days ago (June 5) and my way of doing it is I just have to keep my daily caloric intake around a certain number, so, for instance, I can eat an oz. of potato chips, but that is 150 calories I can't have in some other form. It works out better than a no junk at all diet, because, for me, having one reduced fat Oreo cookie (50 cal.) is better than having no cookie at all.

Which brings me to today's breakfast. Tony wants to know if I can eat pancakes (he is thinking no), but it turns out that I can. So, he made me his signature delicious (dollar size in this case) pancakes. YUMMY. At ~425 calories (includes maple syrup and butter), not a bad deal at all. Here is a lovely picture that sums up my feelings (even though honey on ANYthing is blicky):

When I was a kid, my mother used to take my brother and I to a hole in the wall Peruvian Restaurant called El Chalan. We loved it so hard that she would threaten us with not going there unless we stopped fighting immediately! AND IT WORKED. We would stop hitting and scratching each other at the mere thought of being denied our bifsteak & frijoles (with an egg on top!) -- and GOD FORBID we were not allowed to have our truest love - INCA KOLA.

In later years we discovered another hole in the wall Peruvian place called El Pollo Rico. All they made was Pollo a la Brasa - your choice was whole, half or a quarter - there's a giant oven with chickens spinning on spits, and a guy with a hatchet chops up a chicken for you, throws it on a plate with steak fries, spicy cole slaw and spicy or mild sauce (that we dip our french fries in) - and of course... INCA KOLA. That hole in the wall became so popular, that they eventually expanded into the space next door (and the line still sometimes went outside), and now have moved to a different location entirely. I have never found anyplace that makes pollo a la brasa quite like it - and I've had some good pollo a la brasa, to be sure.

It's not that INCA KOLA is so fantabulous (well, except that it is) - I'm aware that most of my love for it stems from happy childhood memories of afternoons with mom in what seemed to be our secret restaurant. It's bright yellow - which of course filled me and my brother with glee - and tastes like bubble gum. Kind of. Only crisper. As an adult, and one that doesn't really dig sugary carbonated drinks, I get all happy and excited when I can drink it, but it's more of an understanding of how it relates to the food. The sweetness offsets the spicy.

Wednesday I had an audition over at Sunset Gower Studios for a feature film, and on the way, I passed Mario's - a hole in the wall Peruvian restaurant that I had been wanting to try for a long while now. One of the things i like about L.A. are the gems of restaurants you can find in unassuming strip malls. This one always seems to have production trucks parked out in front of it - a really good sign. My audition seriously lasted 2 minutes, I am not kidding, and my next appointment wasn't for 2 hours. So i decided to treat myself to a real, live, sit down at a table lunch on my own, and went on over to Mario's.

I ordered the Lomo Salteado and an INCA KOLA.

Lomo Salteado is strips of beef sauteed with tomatos and onions. It comes with seasoned white rice and french fries.

How was it? REALLY FUCKING DELICIOUS. THAT'S HOW IT WAS.

You know why? Not only because it was good on it's own - but they TOSS IT WITH THE FRENCH FRIES. So as you eat it, the french fries get soaked in the juices, and... it's just... I mean... I can't. I planned on taking some home for dinner later on, but that plan was FOILED.

BEHOLD: