Pour Some Sugar On Me

Awkward-looking and unthreatening. Just like I like my men.

Last night, in some convoluted twist of fate, I ended up at this club, er, lounge in Dupont called Play. I quickly concluded that no one should ever go there unless they are one or more of the following:

a. German and looking to socialize with fellow countrymen
b. A lonely woman interested in meeting up with a forty-something sexual predator
c. A house music enthusiast who enjoys dancing for forty minutes at a time to THE SAME BEAT
d. Someone whose extracurriculars of choice include lines of cocaine, pumping iron, and wearing sunglasses indoors, especially at night

Don't worry, if you're an anorexic who wears band-aid-sized clothes, you'll fit in just fine. Needless to say, I did not.

The whole thing left me happy I was a drug-free, normal-sized American with arguably decent taste in music.

If you're looking for a shot of normalcy in your everyday, these cookies should do the trick. Wholesome like Sandy and easy like Rizzo, there's no excuse not to make them every once in a while. Sure to win over even the sleaziest lounge lizard.

Sugar Cookies
Recipe adapted from The Gourmet Cookbook
Makes about 18 cookies

1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 egg, lightly beaten
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/4 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. baking powder
2 cups all-purpose flour
parchment paper

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Whisk together both sugars in a large bowl. Whisk in oil, egg, vanilla, salt, baking soda, and baking powder until combined.
3. Add flour and stir until dough forms. It will be dry and slightly crumbly. Add a tablespoon or two of water if it is too dry.
4. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Scoop tablespoon-sized balls of dough onto baking sheet. (I used a measuring spoon for this.)
5. Flatten balls of dough with the flat bottom of a glass dipped in granulated sugar. Sprinkle cookies with extra sugar or sprinkles. (Jimmies, if you live in Minnesota.)
6. Bake cookies until set but still pale, about 8-10 minutes. Transfer to racks to cool.

I've been hiding in a hole of misery and despair since C.J. was kicked off...

Not really. Mmmmk maybe a bit. I apologize for the lack of anything on the blog the past week. Not to make excuses, but to make excuses, it's my last year of school, and what with law school applications, a thesis, etc., my culinary adventures have not gone past deciding whether or not I feel ambitious enough to heat up some jarred tomato sauce to go with the spaghetti I eat on a nightly basis. If not, it's pretty much just a spoonful of Country Crock and that powdery stuff that masquerades as Parmesan cheese. Because I am a disgusting human being. Pretty soon, the pasta is going to run out, and I'll just eat the white rice you boil in a bag, maybe sprinkled with despair and stress.

So, I guess I'm just asking for some slack. I promise I'll be a mildly interesting person again sometime soon.

Because One Can Never Have Too Much Chick Rock for Easy Listening Purposes

She's really good. If you like Sara B., you'll like her. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Whatever you do, don't order the bitch beer: Brasserie Beck

Boyfriend and I went to Brasserie Beck downtown last night and I fell in love - with the restaurant, of course. I love everything about it - the high ceilings, the modern, Mondrian-esque design, the tragically hip clientele, the FOOD, the book of Belgian beers they give you, with tasting notes for each beer - just a great dining experience.

I had moules frites (mussels and fries), which I always seem to order when they appear on the menu. They were pretty fantastic - plump and juicy, well-seasoned, and the fries, oh lord, the fries. They were thin and crispy and came with a trio of mayonnaise (Belgian-style), which I typically loathe, but I was practically licking the plate if that tells you anything. Boyfriend got the same, except he got his mussels with fennel and chorizo, while I stuck to the more traditional white wine, parsley, and garlic. We also split a cheese course, which was delicious, if slightly lacking in variation.

Brasserie Beck serves up typical Belgian brasserie food, but to be honest, the focus is not the food - it's the beer. Pages and pages (15, if I counted right) of all different types of Belgian beer, each served in a brand-specific glass for ultimate tasting pleasure, our server informed us. The fun was in choosing which beer to try next. I had a total of four: an Affligem Blond (crisp and flavorful, though I'm no beer aficionado), Delirium Tremens (my favorite), St. Louis Framboise (a raspberry-flavored lambic vaguely reminiscent of a wine cooler - bitch beer, pretty much), and a Kwak (caramel-y amber ale - yum.)

Cuteness: I was actually going to order a different beer than the Kwak, but the waiter interrupted me and told me he would bring me what I really wanted, and would overlook my lapse in judgment when I ordered straight up raspberry juice with the Framboise. He came over with the Kwak (which I lurved) in a bizzare beaker-like glass that had it's own wooden stand. How did this man know I love anything involving caramel (even a beer with a caramel finish) and that anything that's so pretentious it has to have its own wooden stand automatically captures my heart with its ridiculousness? Methinks I've found a soulmate.

One last note, to the chick next to us who insisted on having a 20-minute discussion with the sommelier about which wine she was "feeling:"

1. We know you like wine. We know you like showing off to people that you "know" wine. But when you practically scream to the restaurant that you're "LOOKING FOR SOMETHING WITH A HINT OF A PEPPERY FINISH, THAT OPENS UP TO THE PALATE EVER-SO-GRADUALLY," you make everyone in the vicinity want to engage in homicide. Please refrain, and get over yourself.

2. You are at a brasserie with a fifteen-page list full of brews you can't get anywhere else in the city. Man up and order the beer.

Photo credit: heatherfreeman.com.

A girl can dream...

From toothpastefordinner.com.

Cake, you are my Everest

"Oh my gosh, Regis. Cody and Cassidy made a prison shank from a rusty nail and a toothbrush last night! It was so cute."

Last night I did battle with this cake. It wasn't pretty. I was so excited to make it - doesn't it look perfect? I don't know what exactly went wrong, but my cake ended up being a Kathie-Lee-Gifford-for K-Mart dress in an Armani world.

This was all probably error on my part, but my almond praline turned into one sugary, almondy lump (no golden-brown crackle in sight), the frosting wasn't substantial enough (too airy) to spread, and the dulce de leche, oh, don't even get me started on the dulce de leche. Culinary genius that I am, I decided making my own would be a great idea. I spent $6 on an f-ing vanilla bean (damn you, Whole Foods!) and two hours waiting for simmering milk to magically turn into a brown caramel-y substance before finally throwing in the towel.

The whole thing left me just wanting Paula Deen (who, in a perfect world, would be my third grandma) to come over and tell me in her syrupy voice that everything would be okay, and then feed me some of her homemade butter pecan ice cream. Which I bet she never fucks up.

But, there were things to be salvaged from this experience. The brown sugar cake part itself actually turned out excellently - very moist, with a surprising amount of caramely brown sugar showing through.

So, today, to prove to myself that I'm not a total failure at life, I made cupcakes.

Brown Sugar Cupcakes with Almond Cream Cheese Frosting
Makes about 16 cupcakes

Brown Sugar Cupcakes

For the cupcakes themselves, I used the brown sugar cake recipe from Bake and Shake. (Just bake the cupcakes in a cupcake tin at 350 degrees for 20 minutes instead, until a toothpick poked in one comes out clean.)

Almond Cream Cheese Frosting

3 Tbsp. butter, room temperature
4 oz. bar cream cheese
1 cup powdered sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 tsp. almond extract

1. In a medium bowl, beat butter and cream cheese until smooth.
2. Add powdered sugar and extracts, beat until light and fluffy. Refrigerate until ready to use.

The Count of Monte Cristo Sandwiches

It's like snow! Or sandwich dandruff.

I am sick. I rarely ever get sick, but when I do, it's always the same thing: a sinus infection. An infection of the sinuses. A yummy thing to talk about on a food blog, for sure. This affliction plus the fact that I have sore arms from pruning the Foliage of Massive Proportions in my front yard yesterday means that this post will not be interesting in the slightest. So, I'm just going to go ahead and get to the food.

These are some pretty fantastic sandwiches that are confused as to when they should be served. Vaguely French-toastlike qualities: breakfast? Ham and turkey and cheese: lunch? Easy to prepare: a sad dinner for one? Perhaps. To all of the above. The real answer: these are a party for your tastebuds any time.

A Monte Cristo Sandwich

Serves 1 lonely soul

2 slices Texas Toast
2 slices Swiss cheese
2-3 slices of turkey breast
2-3 slices of ham
2 eggs
1 tsp. milk
1 Tbsp. butter
Powdered sugar (for dusting)

1. On one slice of toast, layer 1 slice of Swiss, the turkey and the ham, then top with the other slice of cheese and other slice of bread.
2. Whisk together eggs and milk in a bowl.
3. Dredge the sandwich in the egg mixture as if it were French toast, being careful to hold it all together. Toothpicks may come in handy.
4. Melt butter in a skillet. Toast the sandwich in there for a minute or two on each side, until it starts to brown and the cheese is melted.
5. Remove from skillet and dust with powdered sugar. Serve alone or with a fruity jam or maple syrup.

Monte Cristo sandwiches are typically deep-fried, but this one isn't. In case you didn't figure it out. Above is the way my dad makes them, and the way I like them. Got an issue? Here's a tissue. No really, I have lots of both.