The Rumors are True...

My friends..... before I even begin writing what is sure to be a sassy, smart and witty blog post (just kidding.....but seriously.) ( betch.) that I know you have all been waiting for, let me first sincerely apologize on behalf of my fellow Spices for putting our blog on the back-burner (see what I did there? kitchen-food-blog-pun). There is no excuse, especially when we have ONE, dedicated and deeply appreciated subscriber. So, this one's for you, Emily.

Now, on to the real reason you're here: The rumors are true.........I'm PREGGO!!!

Just kidding. I just needed to redirect your wandering mind.

But speaking of babies, let me introduce you to the most precious, adorable baby in all the land: my little niece, Quinny Bear.

The holidays are HERE, people. Which means you better start sewing that extra elastic band you have laying around in your closet to your pants. Fat pants. We all have 'em. And we all love 'em.

Now, I'm not going to give you a recipe in this post, because I'm sitting at a coffee shop (yes, I know.... so predictable. Writing a blog...in a coffee shop....with headphones in...whatever. I don't have Internet yet. Get off my back!) and I don't have my recipes in hand. And unlike Cayenne Spice, Garlic Spice and Chile Spice, I'm not knowledgeable or talented enough to be able to whip out an excellent recipe from my head. BUT, I still like to eat (um, hello, my pen name is Fried Spice) and I want to find something new to bake/cook this holiday season when I visit home.

This is where I ask my faithful readers (that includes you, Spices) to reply with your favorite holiday dish. And to entice you even MORE, the person who posts the sassyist, most delicious post will win a PRIZE!!!!!!

I'll decide what the prize is after I read the posts, and after I decide who wins.*

So with out further ado... Ready. Set. Recipe me!

Warm regards,

Fried Spice.

*Prizes are subject to change or seize to exist at any point in time.

Which circle of hell do drunks go to?

My friends, I have stumbled upon a very, very dangerous discovery.  One which might undermine all that I had wished to academically accomplish this year.  A secret which is at once both glorious and terrible.

It's called "The 12:00-6:00 Mojito-Burrito Special."

Eve was never tempted by a snake so cruel.  For a mere £8, you get a delicious and masterfully mixed mojito, either original or flavored, and a chicken, beef, or veggie burrito.  And this seductress happens to reside at Revolucion de Cuba, a Cuban rum bar and cantina which happens to be conveniently located across the narrow English street from the door to the archaeology department building.  What malevolent god has designed to strike me down in such a cunning fashion?  Touche, foul beast of sin.  You have bested me.

 My accomplice (the Dante to my Virgil, perhaps?) and I, midway through the journey of our life (that would be Monday) came across a forest dark (Mappin Street).  There we found the entry way to this den of debauchery.  I had passed it many times before, and had once even passed through its imposing oak doors and tasted their forbidden fruits (they make Dark n' Stormies!).  But I had never heard of their daily special.  And it involved burritos.  And booze.  It called to us.

My accomplice and I both chose passion fruit as the flavor of our sweet poison.

We then both partook of burritos of the chicken variety.

My accomplice, being from the Netherlands, claimed that she had never seen a burrito so big (*that's what she said*).  I was a little deflated.  But considering how difficult it is to find a good burrito in Washington state, I was surprised to find such a promising looking burrito on a completely different continent.

I was not disappointed.

It could have used a little more guacamole.  But I won't be picky.  Because when the other Mexican food option we have readily available is the Old El Paso stand in the Students' Union building, you'll take what you can get.

We then found that every Monday, the have the "Rum Club".  For a measly 10 pounds, you get three shots of three different rums from around the world, a cocktail, and more.

So this may be my last post for a while.  If you don't hear from me, you know where I am.

Hell.  And there's a party.

A Brand New Era

Well, things have been a little lonely here without my Cayenne Spice to keep me amused, but things are starting to improve. The new team is here in Port Angeles, and they don't suck. Most of them are actually pretty cool. I'm looking forward to working with them. But it makes me miss everyone from last year even more.

Anyway, one day I was feeling a little sad about the loss of my twin, Fried, and my bffl, Cayenne, and I was thinking that the best way to make all those sad lonely feelings go away was to have some quality time with my good friend Chocolate. Needless to say, I started a chocolate hunt on foodgawker. I was a little disappointed with the immediate offerings until I stumbled upon the most magical chocolately goodness of all-- molten chocolate cake. Fuck yeah. So off I went to the kitchen to whip me up some deliciousness. The recipe went a little something like this:

4 squares semi-sweet baking chocolate
1/2 cup butter
1 cup powdered sugar
2 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
6 tbsp flour

Preheat that toasty oven to 425 and butter up some ramekins.
Put the butter and chocolate into a bowl and microwave until the butter is melted and the chocolate is soft. Now you gotta whisk that chocolate goodness until its smooth and sexy.
Stir in the sugar, the eggs and yolks, and the flour and mix it nice and good.
Spoon into the ramekins and put in the over for about 12 minutes, or until the outside is just hard.
Take those little beauties out, and stare at them in all their glory for about a minute. Then run a knife around the edges and pop them onto a plate.

I topped them with raspberry sauce and had a glass of milk, but strawberries and vanilla ice cream would have been bomb. The chocolate just oozes out from the middle. It's like magic.

A day in South Yorkshire

cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider. cider.

Did you know you can buy a 3 liter bottle of cider for £3?  Which makes teaching the international students how to play king's cup a lot more fun.  

And holy shit, do these people like their cheese.


Love, 


Cayenne Spice

The State of Michigan

Well that was...weird.

It's been just over two years since the last time I was in Michigan, and things are...hmm...

On the drive home from the airport, my mom told me that things haven't changed all that much.  Watching the towns and countryside through the car window, I could see that her statement was both correct and not-so-correct.  Yes, there are a lot of empty storefronts both in Manistee and in Onekama--but Michigan's been in a recession for a lot longer than everyone else has been complaining about it.  It seemed more deserted than usual, though.  Even the summer-only stores are shut down.  Downtown was simply...desolate.  At the same time, though, there were a lot of new beach homes, some of them quite nice, even in my neighborhood.  Who are these people with all their money?

The town's school, the school I went to from the 1st grade all the way through graduation (all in one building, by the way), is beyond recognition.  Someone somewhere scrounged up some dough and built on a new gymnasium (complete with a fitness center that's open to the community), a "cafetorium", which seems to be a big cafeteria where they also have a huge, state-of-the-art stage, and also a ton of new, shiny, fancy classrooms.  One of my old teachers even said that the cafeteria food is pretty good.  Well hot damn.  I wonder if, if I had gone to a school like this (versus the dump the school was before), maybe life wouldn't have been so lame for a teenager growing up in rural northern Michigan......nah.

So there have been improvements to the town, too, which I definitely wasn't expecting.  And my trip itself hasn't been too bad--I spent a beautiful day swimming at the beach yesterday, and we had a pretty fun thunderstorm this afternoon.  I've even gotten used to my mom's house, the house I grew up in, which has been completely remodeled to the point where the only things I recognize from before are the kitchen cabinets (which are getting changed this winter) and the overall shape of the house (which is now yellow, instead of blue).  After this week, I began to think, "you know, maybe this place isn't so bad."  I shouldn't have gone grocery shopping.

You guys may have noticed that I have a very strange fascination with grocery stores.  I can walk up and down every aisle and be engrossed for hours.  For a very long time, I found your average Asian food section to be as entertaining as True Blood, and every time I saw an exotic fruit, I had to buy it, regardless of whether or not I knew what to do with it.  There is a reason why.  Growing up, Onekama had a grocery store that was about as big as the bottom floor of the Apocalypse House.  You basically only went there in the off chance you ran out of hot dog buns.  However, they have actually CLOSED our one and only grocery store.  CLOSED.  Are you f*ckin' kidding me?

So now you don't have a choice but to drive all the way down to Manistee to go grocery shopping.  And the grocery store there is...well...at least it's bigger than it used to be.  I promised my mom and her husband that I would make dinner tonight, but upon arriving at the store, I was at a loss.  I couldn't make my favorite mac 'n' cheese.  I couldn't make my favorite lasagne.  I couldn't even make frickin' peanut chicken, my go-to food when I don't have shit to make in the house.  So, it was time to experiment.

Have you guys had my mac 'n' cheese?  I think it's pretty bitchin'.  I'm gonna give you all the recipe, and then show the changes I made to it tonight.

4 tablespoons butter
4 tablespoons flour
1 yellow onion, chopped
4 tablespoons garlic, chopped
1 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
Rosemary
Sage
Thyme
Red pepper flakes
3 cups whole milk
White truffle oil
6 oz sharp cheddar, shredded
6 oz goat cheese (the herb kind is good, but so is the plain), crumbled
4 oz Gorgonzola, crumbled
3/4 cup parmesan
1/2 cup Panko
10 oz elbow macaroni

Preheat the oven to 400.  Boil some water on a back burner.  In a large pot, saute the onion and garlic in the vinegar until the vinegar cooks off, then dump the mixture in another bowl.  In that same pot, melt the butter, and then whisk in the flour for about 30 seconds.  Add all the herbs and spices to your liking (I personally like a shit-ton of red pepper flakes, but to each his own), and whisk for another 30 seconds or so.  Slowly whisk in the milk, and then let it come to a simmer, stirring occasionally.  In the meantime, start boiling that pasta, but only cook it about 6-8 minutes.  Then, add the cheeeeeeeese into the sauce, except the parm.  Stir that bitch until it is oozy and wonderful.  Add some more spices.  Then, add some truffle oil, like a boss.  Three or four tablespoons is usually pretty good, but if you happen to be eating with someone who sucks, you might use less.  Make that sauce yummy.  Taste it.  Mmm.  Add the onions, and add the pasta (drained, duh).  Pour that cheesy heaven into a big roasting pan, and sprinkle the Panko and parmesano on top.  Throw that sexy beast in the oven for about 15-20 minutes until...oh ho, you know when. 

Now, tonight I decided to experiment a little with a spicier version.  All of the essentials are the same, except that instead of the rosemary, thyme, sage, and truffle oil, I used a shit-load of Cajun seasoning.  I also added some chorizo.  It was actually pretty damn nom.  I actually highly recommend it if you happen to be in a place that doesn't sell truffle oil.

Well, tomorrow I'm off to Colorado.  Wish I was heading back to the Peninsula, but, c'est la vie.

Adios.

Cayenne Spiiiiice

P.S. I served that damn fine mac 'n' cheese with some Malbec.  Not too shabby.

The First Supper

Moving is a pain in the ass.

It is not fun, no matter how excited one might be at the idea of starting a new chapter of one's life.

There's the packing, the organizing (apparently some people do that), the loading, the driving, the unloading, the unpacking and finally, the re-organizing.

But perhaps one of the least fun things about moving to a new place is that there is little to nothing in the pantry.

After my most recent move to Kentucky, all I wanted to do was sit on the couch and wait to be served a delicious dinner. Unfortunately, the only items in the kitchen included a half-eaten bag of cereal, a few baking supplies and peanut butter. Alas, I was forced to make my first trip to a brand new grocery store (which is another feat in itself... does it irritate anyone else to have to learn your way through a new grocery store?).

I decided that I wanted to use my LAST month of food stamps (thanks, AmeriCorps/the state of Washington!) on the more expensive, necessary items. As such, I have compiled a list that I hope will come in handy should you find yourself in the same position as I:

Salt and Pepper - sure, you would think this is a no-brainer until you've added all of the dry ingredients for cookies and realize you FORGOT TO BUY SALT.

Condiments - mayo, BBQ sauce (I'll put that ish on anything, so of course it's a necessary item.), ketchup, pickles, relish

Butter - stick butter AND spreadable butter

Eggs

Bread

Meat - I bought chicken breasts and ground beef that I can freeze until needed

Sugar

Olive Oil

Non-stick spray - It's hard to make perfect pancakes without this.

Salad Dressing

Ice Cream - I think this goes without saying.

Well, I'll consider this a successful first post from the Bluegrass state.

Don't be a betch.

Fried Spice.

The Last Supper

Now that Garlic and I are properly boozed up and have changed into sweatpants, we can hunker down and write the first of what will surely be many sensationally captivating, delectably enticing, and deliriously slurring posts.  But first, another round of tequila...

Ah, that's the ticket.  So, in light of my imminent departure from the Olympic Peninsula, it was decided that food was an appropriate antidote to the pain of parting.  Or, perhaps we were just hungry after a fun-filled afternoon on the Peninsula College Challenge Course.

After wandering aimlessly through the aisles of Safeway, we decided to buy and roast a chicken, and dress it in whatever happened to be in the kitchen.  Oh, and asparagus.  Because Garlic thought we should have something green.  Pfft.  Who needs anything but meat?  Whatever.

We picked up a nice chicken in the poultry section of the cooler named Loretta.  She was pretty fine--4.25 pounds, nice color, not too frozen.  Sexy.  We knew we were gonna have a real good time with her.  We decided to give her a nice rub down with butter, rosemary, garlic salt (f*ck yeah), sage, and lemon zest.  Then we sealed the deal when we stuffed her with more rosemary, more lemon, more garlic, and MORE BUTTER!  Damn.

Oh, yeah, and we sauteed that friggin' asparagus, too.  Yeah, yeah, it was tasty. 

Nice, simple dinner.  But after some mimosas and tequila, that's all you really want.  Garlic's already passed out in a food and booze coma on the couch, so I think it's safe to say she enjoyed it. 

Cayenne out, betch.