April Fool

The one where we fooled Mom: So for Mom's birthday I plotted to fly Wendy down for a visit to surprise Mom. Mom is sneaky and smart. It wasn't easy to pull it off. Wendy was to fly down on Mom's birthday, the very day, but there was a catch: she had to fly into Midland, because she couldn't get a flight into Lubbock.

I tried to think of ways I could sneak down to Midland on the night of Mom's birthday without arousing suspicion. I could visit Pauline, I thought to myself. I could send a minion (read: Scott) to get Wendy. No, I'm a Nazi when it comes to tradition, and that means that we always celebrate birthdays and eat a big dinner and I'm cooking the cake and you're going to like it or else! It would definitely be weird if I decided to up and go to Midland on the day of Mom's birthday.

So I decided that we would go down to Midland under the guise of trying a fabulous restaurant down there to do something out of the ordinary for Mom's birthday. Why the heck not? Wendy's flight got into Midland at 10:50pm, so I had to stall our arrival in Midland until about 9, which was a little awkward. And if the six of us, plus Wendy, plus Wendy's luggage were going to fit in one vehicle, we were going to have to drive the old Suburban. It seemingly being the least fabulous option among the seven vehicles in the family, that could also arouse suspicion. "Let's take the Suburban so we have lots of room and can lie down on the drive back." Pretty believable. Here we are at Venezia. It was worth the trip.


After dinner, I stalled some more, made everyone take bathroom breaks, and set the GPS to take us to the airport. Now Mom's no dummy. When we pulled up at the airport, she started asking questions.

"Surprise! We're sending you and dad on a trip. We couldn't get a flight out of Lubbock, so we had to come down here. We packed your bags for you. Aren't you excited? Have fun!"

She was shocked.

Then we parked and started walking towards the entrance of the airport, with no bags, mind you, and at that time Mom yelled, "Hey, we're here to get Wendy!" She swore that she hadn't known about the plans.

That weekend we had a party for Mom. And yes, Kimberly the dictator came out and said we always celebrate birthdays and I'm cooking the cake and you're going to like it or else! We had the Pepper Cake. One of these days I'm going to tally up exactly how many batches of that cake I've made in the last two years. Also: Goat Cheese and Lemon Cheesecake with Hazelnut Crust, Chocolate Amaretto & Chocolate Raspberry Truffles, shakes made to order, etc.


Mom's affinity for goats in mind, we had some goat-themed games. We had a goat piñata that was decapitated and then beaten to a pulp. Good clean fun.


Then we played "Pin the Beard on the Goat." Even cheating didn't help me win.


I think the only casualty of the night, besides the goat piñata, was my trusty plastic-handled ice cream scoop. There was a lot of excitement about those shakes, because we had Daddy's commercial grade shake mixer ready for action. A little thing like the ice cream being too hard to scoop wasn't going to deter anyone. Since the ice cream wouldn't give, the plastic handle of the scoop snapped and cracked. I bought a very superior replacement that I've had my eye on for awhile. The Rösle stainless steel scoop is perfect for a girl that takes ice cream as seriously as I do.

C Is for Cookie

I dreamed last night that I was arguing with someone at United about giving me a discount on an eleven pound bulk block of Callebaut bittersweet chocolate. The price of that brand increased to $8.99/lb a few weeks ago. I buy at least a pound every time I darken the door of the store. I'm going to have to start buying it online, where the price of the eleven pound block is in the $60 range. Yes, these are the things that occupy my mind.

I made my Big and Chewy Chocolate Chip Cookies and took some to work. I tried Jacques Torres' suggestion and let the batter sit in the fridge for 36 hours before baking. I'm not sure that helped my recipe. Maybe sometime I'll try Jacques' super duper fussy recipe that calls for both cake flour and bread flour and bittersweet chocolate fèves instead of chips. I try not to shun complicated recipes.




Today for dessert we had Raspberry-Almond Napoleons. First I made a batch of Kimbo's Runny Pudding. (Remember that, Steve?) The short story is that one time I had some of that runny pudding spill in my truck at the height of summer. Nothing stinks up your car quite like eggs and dairy and vanilla. That's what I get for trying to be nice and share. After many attempts, I've realized that the America's Test Kitchen "Good Book" vanilla pudding recipe doesn't thicken and set properly. I decided it is short a tablespoon of cornstarch and an egg yolk.


I cut a sheet of puff pastry into smaller rectangles, brushed the pastry with an egg wash, sprinkled it with sugar, and baked it. Whipped heavy cream, added some runny pudding and 1/4 teaspoon almond extract and beat it to stiff peaks. Spread the pudding mixture over the bottom half of a pastry square, topped it with slivered almonds and raspberries. Spread pudding mixture over the top half of the pastry and placed it on top of the berries. Garnished the top with a little more pudding, a raspberry, and almond slivers.

They were very pretty and tasty but messy to eat. Sorry that you missed them. As Cookie Monster said, "You always denying me!" You can print out a picture of them just the same.

The Elusive Pupusa

(Came across this old post sitting in the drafts pile and thought I'd go ahead and publish it.)

One good thing about living in Lubbock is that it's so warm you don't have to worry about getting a winter boyfriend, you know, someone to keep you warm during the cold winter months, when it’s too miserable to go outside. It's been in the mid 80°s this week.

I don't mind venturing out alone for food and dining alone. I don't even bother to take along a book anymore. The only time I felt particularly conspicuous was when I ate at the Korean place and dropped my metal chopsticks onto the tile floor. Switched to a fork after that. Since graduating, I have more free time in the evenings after piano lessons, so I think it's kind of fun to go explore local eateries. I have such specific tastes and cravings, it's definitely easier to agree with myself that I picked a lovely place to go to rather than negotiate with another party. But there are the drawbacks of not having another person there to share and trade entrées with or with whom to discuss the food.

I recently got it into my mind to get some Salvadorean food. The only Salvadorean restaurant around, El Salvador Pupusería Y Restaurant, is west of town. I started mapping the drive out and found that not only was the place a good long drive away from work and home, it was out in the sticks. I have some experience with narrow, unmarked country roads, having grown up in the boonies myself. I knew the major roads to get out there, no problem.

But there was a problem. Google Maps let me down, despite all my love for it. I drove and drove down the dark road, without spotting the restaurant. I finally turned around and headed for home, which took some doing, as I traveled at a crawl and made some wrong turns that slowed me down. I had to admit that I'd turned into one of those city slickers I made fun of that acted like they couldn't find my house in the country or drove 35 mph down the roads I maxed out the speedometer on. I got home and ate Reese's cups for dinner.

Determined to try again the next day, I Google mapped the route again trying to figure out where I went wrong. (My instincts tell me that "Google map" is not a verb. Neither is "text," for that matter. "Tweet" is okay, though I keep seeing "Twit this" which isn't right, but whatever. I'm starting a group protesting the noun-->verb creep and the constant use of emoticons. It's an outrage, I say! I need more nerdy friends. Or should that be nerdier friends?) Lo and behold, our restaurant was magically on a different spot on the map this time. I decided I needed to go farther west, and I tried again that night to find the place.

I drove down the dark road again, this time coming from the west. Again, my map was off, this time by three miles. I happened to spot the restaurant despite the darkness and whipped the car into the dirt driveway. The building was dark and vacant. I got out and checked the hours posted on the door, only to find I'd missed closing time by a few minutes. They certainly cleared out quickly.

So the next day, attempt number three, and this time I was successful.


If you need a primer on pupusas

When I was in New York, I tried a pupusa at the Brooklyn Flea (winter indoors edition). Lubbockites would be proud to know that the El Salvador Pupusería Y Restaurant pupusa kicked that one to the curb. Small victories.

Pi (Pie) Day

Pi Day is a special day in the lives of many a nerd. Just like normal people celebrate Valentine's Day or National Pancake Day, nerds around the world will gather and join hands in the shape whose ratio of its circumference to its diameter is the most revered mathematical constant in the known universe. - How to Celebrate Pi Day

Happy Pi Day! 3.1415926535...

Here are some of the pies I saw at the Pi Day celebration I attended:


I took the Key Lime Pie. My recipe is like this one except I put a couple of teaspoons of lime zest in the filling as well.

Get Your Goat

My mom got a couple of Pygmy goats, a mama and a baby.


And I made a goat cheese and chicken pizza with some leftover stuff in my fridge. I should have rolled the crust out thinner and drizzled olive oil on top so the basil didn't dry out and taste like a dead leaf.

Comfort Food

Your maid just quit and you're going to have to scrub the toilet yourself. You lost your wallet and someone stole your identity. Your dreams of being an NFL quarterback are hampered by your trick knee and lack of arms. Your plastic surgeon tells you that your case is hopeless. Your good old-fashioned morals and domestic skills fail to win you a worthy suitor. You get passed over for that promotion despite all your efforts at bribing the boss. While you're on the treadmill, your pants fall down, then you fall down, and the people at the gym get a free show while your face gets burned by the treadmill belt. Your dreams of dating a comedian will never come true. The Google Doc with personal financial information and net worth calculations is inadvertently shared with all your Gmail contacts.

Only half of those things have happened to me.

Trying times such as these justify a little stress eating - a meat and potatoes menu like Mom used to make to remind you of your charmed childhood that you can never go back to, and if you were deprived of that charmed childhood and homemade dinners then that's all the more reason to seek comfort in food now.

Today's Sunday dinner menu included a green salad with chopped apples and vinaigrette, roast pork loin and vegetables, and for dessert, a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting.


Pork loin seasoned with salt, pepper, cumin, and ancho chile powder, skillet-seared and then roasted at 375° for ~40 minutes. A mix of red potatoes, carrots, and parsnips, tossed with olive oil and the same spice mixture, roasted under the pork loin.


The cake wasn't as simple. Sour Cream-Chocolate Cake with Cream Cheese Peanut Butter Frosting and Chocolate Peanut Butter Glaze. I've wanted to make this recipe since I saw it on Smitten Kitchen. This one wasn't a winner for me. The soft cake crumbled under the weight of the frostings. Each component needs improvement. I usually get annoyed when people say of a dessert, "Ooh, that's too rich." Isn't that a good thing? But it's true with this cake. A couple of bites are enough!

The best part of my day was when Katie said, "Kimberly, this is great comfort food. It made me feel better."

Your favorite comfort foods?

Fat Tuesday

You might think quite rightly that I've gone off the deep end lately with the bacon ice cream, cupcake binge-fest, and Reese's for dinner. But wait till you see what I had for a midnight snack:


Sunday I made Emeril's recipe for Maple Ice Cream with Candied Walnuts and Nutty Chocolate Sauce. You start with a cup of maple syrup, reduce it, add cream and milk, whisk in some tempered eggs, a pinch of salt and vanilla, chill and then churn. The walnuts are candied in dark brown sugar. After the ice cream is set, fold in the walnuts, some chocolate chips, and shredded coconut. For the chocolate sauce, pour a half cup of heated heavy cream over 4 oz. of chopped semisweet chocolate, and add a teaspoon of Frangelico. Scoop ice cream into waffle cones and drizzle with nutty chocolate sauce. Serve at midnight. Or whenever.

That's the kind of debauchery that I get into on Mardi Gras. My diet starts tomorrow, right?

Pancake Day is another Fat Tuesday tradition I could get into. The custom of making pancakes on Fat Tuesday originated because it's a good way to use up dairy and eggs before Lent starts and fun (food) is banned. I went to the Lions Club Pancake Breakfast on Saturday, and did my part to eat the record-setting pancakes. I also brought my own condiments. They only supply you with squeeze bottle margarine and generic Aunt Jemima, and that just won't do when you're trying to pack away a short stack.

They're real, and they're spectacular

It is hard work being in a long-distance relationship, what with Chet wanting to break up all the time, telling me about his dates with other girls, saying our relationship will only work if I send him lunch money, and then this conversation: "Today I had these Reese's Cupcakes. They were soooo good. Chocolate cupcakes with Reese's cups in the cupcake, plus peanut butter frosting and a Reese's cup on top. They were the best cupcakes I have EVER had! Have you mailed me the check for this month?"

The best cupcakes ever. What statement could be more insulting? My baking is pretty much the only thing I have going for me, and these cupcakes sounded a bit too perfect. Better than mine? I started quizzing Chet: Did the frosting have real butter, not shortening? How was the cake to frosting ratio? Yada yada yada. He identified Eleni's Rivington cupcake as the offender. I checked out the specs of the cupcake on their site, hence my own peanut butter cup cupcake trials last month.

Last weekend I got the opportunity to try out these cupcakes for myself. I went to the Chelsea Market - a great place for a foodie to find herself - which is home to multiple bakeries, eateries, and the Food Network offices. Everything in the Eleni's store was very cute. There is no photography allowed in the store; I assume that is a testament to the cutthroat competition between all the New York City bakeries.

There were so many cute cupcakes on display. I might have gone a little bit overboard by buying twelve cupcakes. I bought a couple of the Rivington (Reese's); and the George (Oreo), a "brownie cupcake with marshmallow and cookie crunch, topped with vanilla buttercream and an Oreo cookie;" and the German Chocolate; and the Peanut Butter & Jelly; and some of the Obama variety, which is chocolate, of course; plus a couple of chocolate with chocolate ganache variations. It was embarrassing to be in possession of that many cupcakes, but they looked so delicious that I wanted to try them all.


I guess I don't have to tell you again that these cupcakes were beautiful. I sat down and halved one of the cupcakes. My observations were that first of all, I was pretty sure it wasn't a Reese's cup on top of the cupcake. I am ashamed to admit that I'm somewhat of a Reese's expert. Sometimes I eat the things by the handful for dinner. Anyway, this pb cup was shorter and wider and the pb filling was softer and more golden. There was more than one pb cup inside the cupcake. The cupcake smelled buttery and chocolatey, had a perfect crumb, and was very moist. The frosting was perfectly proportioned and had great peanut butter flavor, wasn't too sweet and didn't taste like cream cheese. Eating half a cupcake and chasing it down with some milk was enough to make me feel completely satisfied.


That was the best cupcake I've ever eaten. I still have delusions of perfecting my own recipe and beating them at their 'A' game. Any volunteers to taste the samples? I like constructive criticism.

Magic Pan

If Super Bowl Sunday was Man Food Day, the Sunday that succeeded it needed to be the complete opposite. I tried to decide what that menu would include, probably anything that you'd eat at a baby shower: chicken salad sandwiches, vegetables, fondue, quiche perhaps, pound cake. Wussy womyn food! I toyed around with a few ideas but ended up serving crêpes. I probably made 40 crêpes by the end of the night.

Appetizer: cream cheese filling topped with Hot Pepper Peach Preserves.


Vegetable: spinach and fontina cheese filling, plus a dollop of crème fraîche.


First main: prosciutto and provolone cheese filling. Second main: shrimp, crab, cream cheese, and swiss cheese filling.


Dessert: Nutella hazelnut spread filling, with macerated strawberries and coconut flavored whipped cream.


My favorite was the cream cheese and jelly, followed closely by the Nutella crêpe. To me, the only real loser was the seafood crêpe. I bought cooked shrimp and crab legs for the filling, and the meat tasted flavorless and rubbery. It needed some bechamel sauce or something to kick up the flavor. Insert a crappy crêpe joke if you like.

There's no crying in football

Last week for Super Bowl Sunday, I wanted to plan a meal that would celebrate man food. Mom was out of town, so I knew I could put myself in charge of feeding at least Dad and Brother. I needed a menu with lots of bacon and beef and potatoes. This was not the time for anything wimpy. I needed to channel some Paula Deen craziness. I'll admit that I'm afraid of her. I feel like she would be happy to eat my soul with a Krispy Kreme donut and a chaser of bacon grease.

I was excited about the menu. I started cooking. Katie and Porter came over. Dad still hadn't arrived. He told me he'd be there, so I asked Katie to call and make sure he was on the way. Some conversation, and then I heard Katie say, "You're going to back out?" so I made her give me the phone.

"Daddy, where are you?" I asked.

"Oh, I decided I'm going to stay where I'm at."

"What? But Dad I just talked to you, and you said you were going to come over."

"Well, I think I'd better stay where I'm at."

Then I started to cry because I was sincerely upset. "Dad, I've been cooking and I bought you a steak and..." I sounded like one of those 1950s domestic goddess types that made a four course candlelight dinner and got mad when her man didn't call to say he'd be late.

Dad laughed a little. "I guess I'll wiggle my ears and be there in three seconds. I'm in front of your house right now. That's why I said I would stay where I'm at." He explained that he told Katie he was going to back out when he was backing out of the driveway.

It's confirmed. I'm a maniac in the kitchen. I have a domestic goddess delusion. But it's hard to beat this menu:

Roasted Acorn Squash Salad with Maple Syrup Dressing
Grilled Filet of Beef with Bacon and Sour Cream Mashed Potatoes
Candied Bacon Ice Cream

The salad was my favorite part of the meal. It was amazing! Mesclun lettuces, rye bread croutons cooked in goat cheese and olive oil, seasoned squash, maple syrup dressing, bacon on top. How could that be bad?


I used my standard salt, pepper, cumin rub for the steaks. I intended to do a blue cheese glacage, but I ran short on time, so I decided to eliminate some stress by just topping the hot steaks with blue cheese crumbles and scallions. Sorry, the picture makes the steak look grey and overcooked, but they were actually very good.


I was hoping the pièce de résistance would be the bacon ice cream. I know what you're thinking, "Kimberly, you are out of your crazy mind." I thought it would be fun to try it, even if we never wanted it again. The first thing you do is candy the bacon by coating strips of bacon in brown sugar and baking them. The ice cream base has salted butter, brown sugar, milk/cream, egg yolks, flavorings, and the option of adding cinnamon. Different from any ice cream base I've made before. It tasted like BlueBell's Cinnamon ice cream - dark, not too sweet. I don't think I'll soon make it again. There are still leftovers, and that's not a good sign for any recipe, especially ice cream!

All in all, Man Food Day was fun. I'm sure it was bad karma for me to cry on Super Bowl Sunday. That privilege is only reserved for the victors of the game, which we missed because I made everyone eat at the table with the television off. Priorities, people!