I Like Food, Food Tastes Good

If you ever met my friend Dan, you would love him. If you're reading this, you probably have met him, so you know what I'm talking about. It's very clichéd to say this, but you know how some people just "light up a room," as the saying goes? Dan's that type of person, the type of person everyone likes. I can think of exactly one girl that didn't like him, but she was a crazy bitch who more than likely stole Dan's Talking Heads album (never proven, but Dan remains convinced). Over the years, Dan's become a part of my family in the way that close friends often do, and I think that my mom actually likes him more than she likes me. We first met at Kenyon college, where we were attending a two-week writing workshop for pretentious 17-year-old writers. Then, in what was either fate, divine intervention, or just an extremely likely coincidence since we had similar majors, Dan showed up in my very first class at Miami University. We walked from that class to Miami's Shriver Center to buy notebooks or something, and the rest is a purple haze of Prince-filled history.
One of Dan's favorite foods (and mine, too, I'll admit) was mini corndogs, referred as Mini Corn D's and served ONLY with honey mustard, which he would mix himself if necessary. I don't eat Mini Corn D's anymore, and I have a feeling Dan doesn't either, since he's become quite the chef as of late. While in college, neither of us were the gourmands we are today (ha), but Dan once bought me a wonderful cookbook that I still use.

This is one of the most fun cookbooks I own. It's all recipes from indie bands! Some of them are like, "Here's a sandwich I eat a lot," and then some of them are pretty complex. So far I've made two: Sweet Potato Biscuits by a band called Roots of Orchis and Rock 'n' Roll Rangoon (Crab Rangoon, der) by Headlights. Even though the latter is supposed to be eaten as an "appetizer," I am guilty of making a lot and eating them all for dinner on Friday. Major yums to both recipes! And the Sweet Potato Biscuits snuck some veggies into Chase and Dad's diets. Chase unwittingly ate, like, a fourth of a sweet potato.

The Lone Surfer of Montana, Kansas

This blog has been a little food-heavy, so here's what I've been reading.

I bought this book on a whim because it was cheap on BetterWorldBooks.com. I was happy to discover that Davy Rothbart snagged cover blurbs from Charles Baxter, Judy Blume, Ira Glass and Arthur Miller! I put those in the order of importance for me, but I think most people would probably reverse them. This is a breezy, fun read; it was a good post-Snow Angels pick, since Snow Angels made me feel a bone-deep despair that hung around for days. I knew I liked this book when one of the stories started with this sentence:
"We were on State Road 400 zooming across yellow Kansas and Sally and I were sore at each other."
Those sorts of sentences are like the fried eggs of writing, i.e. simple, unadorned gems that I will always happily devour. I'm reading about 5 books right now, as is my usual (annoying) habit, so basically I am never going to finish anything.

From My Head Down to My Legs

Do you remember that old advertising campaign for eggs? You know, the one that said, "I love eggs/From my head down to my legs"...? No? Well, I certainly do, and I have to say that I echo the sentiment. I really do love eggs. Most days, my dinner looks a little something like this.

Not very exciting, maybe, but a scrambled or fried egg is the perfect convenient meal for a Lady Dining Alone. I can't ever remember a point in my life that I didn't love eggs. When I was little, naturally, it was only scrambled, but as I grew older and came to realize the glory of a runny yolk, I started to daydream about fried. One of the best things about eggs, in my opinion, is just how easy it is to make them; Papa Winfrey, who would himself admit that he's no great cook, has been known to whip up quite a few scrambled egg sandwiches. He was also the culprit behind the most infamous egg dish I've ever tried to choke down: The Peanut Butter and Jelly Omelet. It was dinner, Mama Winfrey wasn't around, and the man had to improvise! It was really terrible and, in a rare moment of strictness, he told me I had to eat it. There's also an Old Winfrey Legend that Mom once made him a baloney omelet with similar results. Perhaps eggs are not as forgiving a mistress as I thought.
Those eggs I used to down when I was little had one thing in common: they were white and from a grocery store. And that's how I happily lived my egg life up until a few months ago, when I had an Egg Revelation followed by an Egg Conversion which is now being followed by Egg Proselytizing. My epiphany looked like this.

Farm fresh eggs, one of the biggest joys a lady can find in this life. Completely superficially, the beautiful color is what got to me. Who wants plain ol' white eggs when these lovely brown and baby blue suckers are around? The yolks from truly free-range chickens are oranger, which my grandma attributed to them eating bugs. Who can say? The point is these babies are beautiful.
Most importantly, there's the satisfaction I get in knowing where my food comes from. Our local organic market sells these, but they actually come from a farm owned by my best friend's mom. These chickens work, play, and sometimes run across the road to meet an untimely death just a mile or two from my parents' house. I've seen what they look like, where they live, and how, if you drop one of their eggs on the ground, they will all peck it open and then eat it. I'm not saying chickens are smart animals (they are so dumb), but it is important that they are healthy and, as much as chickens can be, happy. I don't want to get all Food, Inc. on you, but I want my eggs to come from chickens that look like chickens, not chickens with no beaks that can't even stand because their breasts are so heavy.
Eggs from free-range chickens are by no means necessary to enjoy the wonders of a runny yolk smeared over toast. They are noticably different, though, or else I wouldn't be spending my morning waxing poetic about them. But now, what you came here for: egg porn.

Bundt Time

My favorite type of cake to make for special occasions is the Bundt. There's just something homey and welcoming about it. When you make a Bundt cake for someone, in essence you're saying, "You're special enough for a cake!" while also saying, "Oh, this old thing? I just threw this together." The Bundt cake has a kind of casual elegance that transcends its dumpy name; Bundt just sounds way too much like "butt" for my liking, and who wants to bake a Butt Cake? I guess some people do.
This is another recipe from Joy the Baker. I really do make things that aren't from her website, but I have to admit that I made three of her recipes in the past two weeks. She's reliable, like the Barefoot Contessa of baking blogs. Like the Orange Cream Pie, I made this Poppyseed Cake with Blueberry Glaze for Easter.

I ate this after dinner and for breakfast and lunch the next day. That means it's versatile! Or it means that I have no self-control when it comes to baked goods.
Enjoy this money shot.

Orange and Cream Pie

One of the desserts I made for Winfrey Family Easter (okay, actually it wasn't the Winfrey side of the family, but I'm still going to call it that) was Joy the Baker's Orange and Cream Pie. I'd made it once before and it turned out reasonably well, and citrus seemed appropriately springlike. But mostly I just love making pudding like it's nobody's business. There are few things as satisfying in this world as making a pudding pie. First, there's the matter of the graham cracker crust. Graham cracker crusts are easy to assemble but still leave me feeling as if I've accomplished something. Melt butter, add crumbs, press into pan---really, this is a very salt-of-the-earth pie crust we're talking about. Then there's the actual pudding, the making of which seems nothing less than magical every time. Logically, I understand that adding cornstarch to a liquid will cause it to thicken. I mean, scientifically, I get it. But there's still a part of me that always thinks "Maybe this time it won't happen!" And when it does, I feel like an alchemist. Well, an alchemist that deals in pudding, not gold.

There were too many desserts so Chase was the only one that tried this. He gave it a thumbs up, though, so my mission was a success.

The Cheevs

Well, hey there, who is this fine gentleman?

It's John Cheever, of course!

Yesterday I went to the library's monthly book sale and I scored this Collected Stories for only a dollar. As is usually the case with me, it will be awhile before I get to reading any of the books I bought. My reading list is a mile long. I'm excited about this one, though. I've read a little John Cheever (I have a very distinct memory of staying home in bed one weekend night in college and reading one of his story collections), but I only remember two of his stories really clearly. Those two are, as any good former creative writing major knows, The Swimmer and Goodbye, My Brother.

Yes, I AM posting a picture of what I ate for breakfast.

My breakfast this morning, eaten while the rice for the Barefoot Contessa's Orange Pecan Wild Rice was cooking.

Steel cut oats, whole wheat toast with Mama Winfrey's homemade strawberry jam, and coffee ground from whole beans we bought at the farmer's market. The beautiful bowl was a gift from Heather.

Reading Some Books, Eating Some Food

Because I am a narcissist, I have this compulsion to write (in a public forum) about the books I'm reading and the food I'm eating. Of course, this is not exactly revolutionary, and I highly doubt anyone will read this, but at least it will provide me some sort of record, if nothing else.
Alex and I already have a blog, but this is the stuff that I think would bore him. Far better to put my long-winded ramblings in a blog-ghetto. Prepare yourself (who am I talking to?) not for insightful commentary on fiction or for sumptuous snapshots of cakes, but instead for uncomfortable personal stories that barely relate to something I'm reading and blurry, poorly-lit photographs of what I had for lunch.
I'll try to update soon with more details, but for now: I'm currently reading Snow Angels by Stewart O'Nan. Today I made an orange cream pie and at the moment I'm waiting for a poppyseed Bundt cake to cool.