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Tag: eggs (page 2 of 2)

Rice, Fried


Hey. Hi. So, again, I am left with little inspiration this week. February has arrived, the farmers’ markets remain spartan and the Oracle of Punxsutawney has spoken. Time to go buy razors for Joey.

I made dinner for a friend last night after a pit stop, here, where, like a latter day version of Cheers, everyone knows my name. And number. And Twitter account.

But I digress. Read more

Goulet’s Eggnog


Well, it’s not Robert Goulet’s eggnog but rather it’s Martha Stewart’s.

Last week I hosted the boozy, Third Annual Robert Goulet Eggnog Extravaganza at my abode and Martha’s highly boozy recipe has been the centerpiece of such a boozy affair. There’s always been something cheesy about eggnog and Robert Goulet. In my cerebral madness, I feel the two are a nice compliment. To the right, you’ll find Herr Goulet feeding eggnog to a local area ram.

This recipe is very distinguishing, refined and unlike anything you’ll find in a carton in the supermarket. Or in Goulet’s old fridge-RIP. It’s cloud-like and heavy all at the same time.  I made this for my family two years ago. My mother proceeded to gulp down two glasses in just a few minutes. “Mom, this is not Gatorade.”

Photo and recipe after the jump. Also, check out this great NPR piece on eggnog from ’06 with Alton Brown.

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Scary, Savory Snacks for a Halloween Buffet

SpidermuffinsI went to a pumpkin-carving party last weekend. It was THE AWESOME. Creative carving was de rigeur and though an inspired Pac-Man pumpkin won, I was rooting for the gourd rendition of the Bolt Bus. As is often the case, in the weeks leading up to the party the hostess and I have had a number of brainstorming sessions to come up with a tasty, spooky menu befitting such an event. Since the party ran straight through the dinner hour, we wanted to be sure people were adequately fed before hitting the candy corn. Pumpkin-carving knives + homicidal sugar highs = liability nightmares.

Ultimately, we decided that a bubbling pot of chili on the stove, supplemented with a buffet of the usual fixins’, would anchor a relaxed meal. Add in some cornbread adorned with olive spiders, devilish eggs, and ghoulish guacamole with witch and pumpkin tortilla chips (the latter cribbed from the indefatigable Martha) and we were all set for our very own pumpkin slasher fest.


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I Hate Mayo. No, Not the Clinic…


Mayonnaise.  I hate it. So, let me write about it.

Actually, let me qualify my hatred. I hate jar-packaged, store-bought mayonnaise. The sound of a knife entering that jiggly vat of viscosity is enough to give me a damp bed. Mrs. White, take my hatred away.

Oh, please spare me the:  “Don’t worry!  They also package it in a squeeze bottle!”

Look, it’s an abused condiment/ingredient. An easy thing to toss into a recipe for a quick bind.

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