Bon Appetit ~ Round 5: Finally Some Fish

Well, well, well...it looks like Bon Appetit is finally listening. It was just last week when I dared them to put salmon on the cover and lookey here what shows up on the June cover!

     Remember ~ I live in Hickville so I know the only way that I will be able to score those tiny tomatoes on the vine will be if I do a little late night raid on someones garden. Reconnaissance mission has begun.

I'm somewhat disappointed in BA because the recipe calls for "wild king salmon." While there is nothing wrong with wild king, in fact I LOVE it, but didn't they know as of May 15 it was officially Copper River Salmon season? At first glance I was hoping that was what that beautiful piece of fish was, but it was not to be.

        I'm on it...like a fat kid on cake!  

 

Results to follow!

If you want to make it with me click here for the recipe. 

The Bon Appetit Throwdown: Round 4

Whose dumb idea was this anyway? I'm talking about this whole Bon Appetit throwdown crap. Well BA must have gotten the memo that dough and I have a love/hate relationship because they have gotten all serious about this throwdown thing and have been playing dirty by bombarding me with yet another cover recipe that features dough. Here’s the thing—I love to eat all things made from dough but I hate to make it. Mostly because I suck at it.

I was coming off a hellacious high from pain meds and wasn’t thinking rational when I made the decision to bring a pound of butter to room temp.

      Think I’m kidding?  There were three plus sticks of butter in a recipe that yielded nine rolls. I can do easy math even when high, so I know that means that there is about a stick of butter in each bun, right? I am usually of the opinion that everything is bedder with budder, but these rolls were practically boiled in butter and that’s just sick and wrong BA!!!   

     The dough was sticky, hence the name I suspect.  So crazy sticky in fact that it would have been easier to get Bazooka bubble gum off of the hind end of a shiatsu then it was to get that crap out of my food processor.  When I finally did I then buttered them up some more and put it in a bowl to rise, just like the BA bully told me to do.  

     Then that shit didn’t rise.

     I waited the allotted time and then some and finally gave up on it and rolled it out, hoping it would rise on the second time around, but nooooo, it just sat there in its own pool of butter all relaxed looking while I looked on in zombie horror from my happy place.

 

So I baked it anyway. Thankfully my friend Shawna had popped over and was there to keep an eye on them, because between the Percocet and Pinot Grigio I almost forgot that I had a bun in the oven. 

Hahahahaha! Are these not the worst looking rolls you've EVER seen?

When Shawna pulled them out of the oven she remarked that they slightly resembled sticky buns. coughbullshitcough, I thought they looked more like road apples.

Hahahahahahaha! Fugly, I know...

I have two friends who also made this cover recipe.  Karen, who is an amazingly talented baker said, and I quote, the texture is awesome and that they were easy to make. I gotta believe her because she knows dough, but Karen, I want whatever pain meds you're on because I think making origami birds is easy compared to making these buns.  

      My other friend, Mrs. Lexus, also an accomplished baker in her own right, made them and said her buns rose to the high heavens and were mighty tasty...but were too buttery. Mrs. L., I want whatever pain meds you're on because I didn't know there was such a thing as "too buttery".

The Lowdown on the Throwdown:

The individual components of this recipe were very good, Vicodin or not. The dough was soft and silky and oh-so-buttery.  The filling, which was butter, brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg was sweet and spicy and did I mention buttery? Then there was the heavenly caramel sauce which was nutty and creamy and UN-freakin-believably buttery!  When you put all that together, minus the fact that my buns were like hockey pucks, what you got was an insanely, buttery, tasty hunka dough. 

      But here is the sad truth...if you are really going to eat a whole sticky bun by yourself, plan for your next meal to be fed to you through an IV tube shortly after you come out of triple bypass surgery.  Just sayin'.   

     Click here to get the recipe.  

OK Bon Appetit you win this one, I'm cryin' UNCLE!  Enough with the dough, would you?  How about some nice fish for a change, like salmon? Are you listening?

Wasabi My Kimosabe

So if you think that I've spent the past five months in the Caribbean just working on my tan and swimming with turtles you are right. Well, only partially right. I did spend a great deal of  time cooking…and doing dishes...or when I wasn't doing dishes I was cooking. It was a vicious cycle.  

This season I added a few new definite keepers to my repertoire of Pisces recipes. One of The Big Guy's favorites was Creole shrimp with Andouille cream, which I served on a bed of kale and then on top of cheesy grits. It was rich and spicy and full of flavor.

One of my faves is a Stephen Pyles recipe that I have been making at home for the past few years but I adapted it to make use of local island ingredients; snapper in a jalapeno broth served on a banana-black bean mash with fried plantains and mango salsa. The picture below is showing it in a serrano broth with fried tortilla strips, which is how I make it at home but in the islands I usually can't find serranos so I use jalapenos and I  also make use of the abundance of plantains and fry some of them up.

But enough about that...we are here to talk about the tuna with wasabi beurre blanc and pineapple-ginger chutney. This is quite possibly thee best thing that I have made in a very LOOOOOONNNNG time, maybe even like forever.

I'd like to take credit for the sauce, but my ass would be chapped if someone took credit for one of my brilliant sauce creations and I don't want no bad karma, so I will tell you that I found the sauce recipe on allrecipes.com.  It was my genius idea thank you very much, to top it with the pineapple-ginger chutney which was my mojo and elevated this dish from "it doesn't suck" to "wow! would it be considered gauche to lick my plate at the table?"

Trust me...you don't even have to like wasabi to like this dish. When you cook the wasabi paste the heat takes the pungency away, leaving a mild flavor that the pineapple and ginger completely love. I know when it comes to wasabi that a little dab will do ya, but by cooking it you knock the sinus clearing effect right out of it and what you are left with is a mild but flavorful sauce that is rich and decadent. I am of the opinion that everything is bedder with budder and wasabi is no exception so don't be afraid to go a little crazy with the green stuff. And just when you think this sauce can't get any better you throw the cilantro in and that's when you want to call a nurse for an IV so you can just mainline it. 

You can make the chutney ahead of time and keep in in the refrigerator until you are ready to make the sauce. Bring it to room temp before serving.
 

To plate this put some beurre blanc on the plate, top with the seared tuna steak, more beurre blanc and then some chutney. Serve remaining beurre blanc and chutney on the side. Then sit back, close your eyes, take a bite and let the flavors explode like fireworks on your tongue!

There you have it! Our new favorite tuna recipe and I dare you to find one person who has eaten this that didn't lick their plate clean and kiss me on the lips! And I can name names.

     I usually serve it with coconut-lime rice (or couscous {I like the Israeli} ) and candied ginger carrots. Go to the "Seafood" tab at the top of this page to see how to put a little piece of heaven on the table. 
     PLEASE let me know what you think after you've eaten this and I'll let you know where to send the thank you flowers.

Top 10 Reasons Why It's Time To Go Home

Tomorrow we are homeward bound! We have spent the past five days in Puerto Rico, where we have been busy getting the boat hauled out and putting her in dry storage. Pisces is all tucked in and buttoned down, ready for a long rest in a safe harbor where she can ride out the hurricane season.
     And after five months of living on the boat I am ready to get my feet back on solid ground.

 The Big Guy, just as we were finished putting her away and ready to leave.

THE TOP TEN REASONS WHY IT’S TIME TO GO HOME

10.   Old cash gone, need new cash.

9.   We have watched all of our DVD’s at least twice and are now ready to watch some quality TV shows for a change, like American Idol (me) and Dancing with the Stars (The Big Guy), and Iron Chef (both of us). Are those shows even still on? Did we miss anything?

8.    I need a new reality. No matter how much one loves White Bay you can only spend so many hours per week people watching at the Soggy Dollar Bar. The same can be said for doing shotskis at Willy T's.

My favorite place in the BVI's...White Bay,  Jost Van Dyke

    

Willy T's and hell yeah we are doing a shotski! When in Rome...

7.   I really, really, really want a salad that is NOT romaine lettuce. And I really, really, really want fresh produce that will last more than one day. Wilted greens one day old that I paid a premium for make me Whiny and Bitchy and I HATE being Whiny and Bitchy. I'm Hot and Flashy so I don't have time for Whiny and Bitchy.
 
6.   Lately I’ve been taking turtles for granted. It’s time to go home when Big hollers at me to look at a huge sea turtle that is swimming along side us and I don’t even  pull my nose out of my book or bother to look up. Sea turtles should NEVER be taken for granted! Shame on me!

I snapped this pic as I was snorkeling with this turtle!

5.   You know I love that man but believe me when I tell you that the boat is getting too small for two people to live 24/7.  Someone may slip and accidentally fall overboard and someone else may accidentally not notice for an amount of time that is considered criminally unacceptable.

4.   I’m tired of cooking. There, I said it. As much and I love to cook and entertain I have to admit I am pretty burned out. Since about mid March I’ve been knocking out thee meals a day, along with an appetizer and an occasional dessert. My energy level is low and my creative juices have slowed down to barely a trickle, so unless it's a really great new recipe that you have to share, I'm not interested.
 

    Blue Corn Crusted Mahi-Mahi with Black Bean & Corn Salsa

and Corn Spiked & Chipotle Mashed Potatoes

 

 Tuna on a Sweet Potato Cake with Mixed Fruit Compote

and Roasted Red Pepper Coulis

3.    It’s getting too dang hot! Add another ten degrees and 90% humidity to my already over heated, hot and flashy body and you got a cranky old bag who is about this close to spontaneously combusting.


2.    I do love the water, but frankly I'm tired of being wet. Last week I was a good three minutes into a shower before I noticed I still had my bra on. Seriously! It's because my clothes are always wet, I'm always wet—be it sea water, dish water or sweat, so showering partially clothed seems almost logical.

1(a).    I say this not in vanity but in sanity. I miss my full length mirror! The only mirror I have on the boat shows me from about the neck up so I really have no idea if I’ve gotten fat(ter) or if I still have the ability to put together a super cute outfit. I looked down at what I was wearing the other day and horrors of horrors, thought, “OH MY GOD…THE BIG GUY MUST HAVE DRESSED ME THIS MORNING!”   

And the number one reason to come home…..

1.      There is a darling little girl named Paisley, that I miss terribly and whom I’m certain needs to plant flowers, pull some weeds, finger paint a wall with spaghetti sauce, play in mud puddles, throw some toys down the toilet, gather pine cones and horse turds, cut her own hair, slide down the laundry chute, do some power shopping, put doll clothes on the dogs, get a manicure....

The #1 reason to come home

On my next post I will share with you the BEST dish that I have made over these past five months. If you don't LOVE it I will give you your money back! 
     Stay tuned for Tuna with Wasabi Beurre Blanc and Pineapple-Ginger Chutney.

Pisces To The Rescue

Just another day at the office....oh yeah, and we made a daring rescue of a boat that was stranded at sea with six people on board. What’d you do today?   

 
     It was our final day at sea and we were going from St. Thomas to Puerto Rico when we came upon a small boat bobbing helplessly in the water. The Big Guy said he saw them waving a white flag, which I guess is a universal distress signal. I thought it meant they were surrendering.  Anyhow, through the binoculars I could see six people frantically waving at us, which was our second clue they were indeed in distress and/or surrendering.

Our 1st attempt at towing, just before the line snapped...

I’ll admit that I have a suspicious bone in me and so as we were circling around to come to their rescue I made a mental note of just where exactly my chef’s knife was in case they happened to be real pirates of the Caribbean.

     “Maybe it's a trick and they want to rob us,” I speculated to Big.

     “They are cleaning poop out of their pants, so I don’t think so,” he brilliantly deduced.

Ok, so we got communication with them and they told us that their engines had quit them. (We later learned that they had bought fuel on Tortola which is cheap for a very good reason…it’s mostly water…and it’s a lesson we have already learned.)

     So while Big rigged up a tow-line I drove our boat in big, slow circles around them. The scared faces on the three young girls told me it was for real and that we wouldn’t be dueling it out on a short plank.  Big then took the helm and got us close enough so that I could throw them the line.  They tied on and we began towing them only to have the line break within the first few minutes. 

     Big got a second set of lines ready, while I manned the helm and again we made another attempt. This time as I threw the lines I was knocked down by the pitching of the boat in the five to six foot swells and almost fell off the sugar scoop. The water rushed up the scoop and soaked me, but I managed to grab on to the rail, which by the way had broken loose when the first tow-line snapped, and drag myself to safety just as a giant shark was coming for me.

They tied on again and we made it about fifteen minutes before that line broke. (Note to self: we need some of those trucker tow-ropes.)

Big went with Plan C and got more lines and then tied them from both sides of the stern and then added another one in the middle. I continued to drive in a circle while their little boat bobbed like a cork in the rough seas and their little faces looked on helplessly.   

This way worked better

  

Big got us back into position and I threw the lines again.  The kid missed. We set up for another pass and I pitched the lines with all the strength I had. One of them caught it at the bitter end and The Big Guy had a screaming panic attack because it got flipped up over our soap dispenser stand and looked like it was going to tear that off, so I did a spectacular nose dive under the dinghy and managed to get the line on the other side of the dispenser. I should note that Big was doing some pretty spectacular driving on his part, keeping the boats close enough together so they could tie on.

We then towed them for about ten miles before Sea-Tow (like AAA for boaters) came to the rescue with their big trucker tow-lines and took over for us and towed them for the last five or six miles while we went on ahead into Puerto del Rey and docked.  

A couple of hours later six grateful young kids came to our boat and shook our hands and thanked us for saving the day.   

Authors Note:  Parts of this story may have been slightly exaggerated...you know...like the stuff about the rail breaking and the six foot seas.

The TSA : Taking Shit Away or The Sexual Assassins or Touching Sensitive Areas or Totally Screwing America or...

TSA: Reason #1 to have a Valium Martini before you get to the airport.

If I ever end up in the Crowbar Hotel it will be for killing a TSA agent! 

I’m a rebel, I know this. I often try to sneak past TSA with a wine opener in my purse, or God forbid 12 ounces of hairspray. Once I even went all crazy and tried to smuggle not one, but TWO nine ounce jars of cheese dip(s) from the very fabulous gourmet food store, Napa Style. The douche bag TSA guy, who clearly did not need the calories associated with said cheese dips, confiscated them from me (for his own consumption, I'm certain) lest I make a cheese bomb and blow the plane to pieces. Grrrrrrr. 
(Authors note: that was about 6-7 years ago and I'm still holding a grudge.)

     
So yeah, over the years I’ve had my share of run ins with them, but nothing has pushed me over the edge like this.

Billings MT...home of the ten thousand TSA agents who stand around with their thumbs up their butts all day waiting for the typically twenty-five passengers to come through security. Because they have nothing better to do, they will ransack every suitcase, legally feel you up and pat you down "with the back of the hand," and make everyone, meaning not just the random terrorist-looking grandma, but everyone, stand in their little box that blows a puff of hot air on you to see if any bomb making (read: fertilizer i.e. cow shit [this is Montana]) blows off.

So here's how my latest encounter went:  First off, I will tell you that I have mascara older than this little twit with a badge, who looks like she just quit her job working the deep fryer at Mickey D's and has now been a highly trained TSA agent for not more than two days. She decides that my 18-20 containers of Little Caesars dog food look suspicious even though I am traveling with two dogs.

She wants to know where I'm going and why I have so much of it. I tell her that at the present I'm living in the British Virgin Islands and that I can't buy it there, so I have to bring it with me. I must look like I’m a mule for the Colombians because she wrings her pudgy blue gloved hands and goes over to her supervisor, who is a lazy lard ass with an inflated ego and says that she thinks it's suspicious that I have so much dog food. They tell some TSA secrets and then he pulls his own blue gloved thumb out of his hind end and inspects one of my 3.5 ounce containers and then he says that I can’t fly with it because...wait for it… it’s a gel. 

Gracie & Elvis ~ The "gel eating" dogs.

The rest of the conversation went something like this:

Me:  “What the...? No it's not.  Dude, it's dog food.” (Note to self: TSA dudes do not like to be called "Dude.")

Lard A:  “It's gel and you will have to check it.” (He makes sure his Cracker-Jack looking badge is at my eye level.)

Me:  “No, really it is dog food.” Then I ask him what seems like a perfectly legit question, which is, “do you feed your dog gel?”

Lard A:  “Well you can’t fly with it.”  

Me:  “I fly with it all the time. Matter of fact I just flew here a few days ago with it.” I can feel my Bad Attitude coming to the surface and I can tell I’m about to do that thing when my horns sprout from my head, but I try to remain un-demon-like as I ask semi-nicely, “well can't you just make an exception this one time?”

Lard A:  “No I can't. What if the next person wants to fly with peanut butter?"

That’s when I throw my hands up in the air, my head spins around a' la exorcist and I declare loud enough for the air traffic control tower to hear me and say, “Peanut butter? Seriously? Peanut butter? We all know how dangerous that would be! There’s nothing like peanut butter to bring down an airplane!!!!”

And that's pretty much when things went down hill. The Big Guy began heading back to the counter to check the bag, while I wondered how much time I would get if I did a cavity search on him with the pointy toe of my super cute slingbacks.

I wasn’t completely finished…“Wait a second,” I say. You do know that we are flying on that little rinky-dink plane and that they will make us gate check this bag anyway, don’t you?”

(I had him there! And for a second or two he looked dumbfounded, or at least just dumb.)

Lard A:  “It doesn’t matter that they will gate check it. It’s not going past here!” 
He sounded pretty firm about it.

Twit with a badge is looking all sheepish because she knows she started this whole business and she knows I’m about to go postal on her frumpy ass. Every time she looks my direction I give her my evil eye. The other 7268 agents on duty look down and avoid eye contact with me because I’ve about turned her into a pool of butter with my death stare.

Enter unsuspecting-smiling-just-coming-on-duty-TSA guy. 
     “Hi poochies,” he says to my dogs, who are looking very sad at this point. “How are you little guys doing?” 

     “They’re pissed off!” I bark at him, “because that asshole just took away their food.” (I point a finger at said asshole, like I’m picking him out of a line-up.) 

My sad looking doggies. :(

And that was when it went all quiet. Luckily for me The Big Guy showed up about then and grabbed my arm and led me away, without the handcuffs on. Yeah, he did whisper in my ear, "Just keep walking, and step it up a bit. I figured they'd have you arrested by now."

I just spun my head completely around one more time and headed to the bar for a Valium Martini. 

 

On a lighter note, here is my recipe for a Stuffed Baguette, and you know exactly where I'd like to stuff it!  Click on the "Appetizers" tab to view it.

  

Bon Appetit ~ Round 4: The Ultimate Sticky Buns

The April issue is out and I can see that the BA Bully is getting serious about this throwdown thing! Not only had I never cut up a chicken, but I've never made cinnamon rolls (same thing as sticky buns, I think) that didn't involve whacking a can on the edge of the counter.

After my good luck with the pizza dough, my confidence has soared and I thought these buns would be a walk in the park. I was all excited to make them on the boat, even though past experience has proven that copious amounts of flour and open hatches and ocean motion do not a good combination make.
   
Then I read the recipe. A stand mixer? Yeah right, I keep it on my three inches of counter top right next to my microwave oven, panini press and deep fryer. Then I read further...and I'm quoting, "No stand mixer? Don't worry. Fit your food processor with the standard chopping or dough blade..."  BAHAHAHAHA!  My food processor with "dough blade" is on my other three inches of counter top, right next to the four-slice toaster, Nespresso machine, waffle maker and blender! (ok, so maybe I do have a Nespresso machine onboard, but you get my drift.) I have a "mini processor" on the boat, which I love like the kids and couldn't live without, but only if I cut the recipe by 1/25654236th could I possibly get all the list of ingredients in.
 
So you know what that means, don't ya? No sticky buns until May when I am home cuddling up to my stand mixer and food processor with dough blade. 

If anyone has made them, let me hear from you. I loved to know if they are the "ULTIMATE" or if BA is talking smack, because I'll call em on it, you know I will!

In the meantime here is recipe for French Muffins, taken from cooks.com. Click HERE to see the recipe. Mmmmmm!