"EBAY MODELING IS REAL MODELING, MOM! I JUST POSE WITH BACON."
I have strong feelings concerning what is happening in the above photo.
Before we get into them, with the help of Dr. Drew and televised on MTV/VH1/Viacom affiliates, we should talk about Waffles. Capital dub, because they deserve it. When I started working on 'Full', I knew I wanted to do a spin on classics - French Toast, Breakfast Sandwich, Waffles (and soon Pancakes, then Hash). I like to eat breakfast foods out more than any other category of food - I like heaping portions, all of it hot and crispy and brown. But when I go out, I rarely order Waffles. The last time I did was almost three years ago, the morning of one of the best days of my life so far. It was the day my parents bought me a horse, and I named it Secretariat.
No, that never happened, but I can't stop thinking about that horse because every time I watch TV, there is Diane Lane and Lafayette, with hair and a mustache and wild eyes shouting about Equines Overcoming Adversity.
How is your summer going? How is your garden growing? Have you been asked to leave any establishments? Have you, like me, started to really enjoy that Airplanes Like Shooting Stars song, so much so that the lump in your throat is no longer a joke but a real one, you stop doing fake SYTYCD moves to it and begin hoping that TABITH-ERandNAPOLEON choreograph something real involving Twitch to it, and you have to change the station or leave the room? Good. Tell me all about it.
I've got some stuff to share, including my forays into ice cream. Another entry for FULL, more Summer Round Ups. But to assuage guilt, here are some of my favorite summer-friendly recipes I've shared over the years, as well as some recipes other people are tempting me with. Let me know if you've got something that has changed your life. And stay hydrated.
Also, forgive the formatting that follows. Or think of it as rustic. Jaunty. I'll fix it as soon as possible.
"SHOW US YOUR PEAKS! SHOW ME YOUR PEA--YES. YES. Did you tape that?"
The weather here is wild. Cold and wet, muggy and moist, don't think about anything having to do with heat, dry weather or blazing sun because the sneaks and snatches you get will have to hold you over for one, two, five days before the next one. So tomatoes and peppers wait in windows, over a foot tall. Watermelon and squash starts are poking up, and tiny gnats flutter up from soil that never dries out.
I meanwhile, impulsively buy vintage sunglasses on Etsy.
I just went through my SPAM folder and approved a bunch of not-SPAM comments that had gotten stuck in there. I'm not sure why, but I just wanted to apologize - I'm not screening, demanding that comments only go through if they include your SS number or something. I'm sorry!
Friends, this stuff is so good. I am a whole muddle of stuff, genetic/ethnicity-wise and some of the stuff I am can't handle lactose. When I was younger this wasn't a problem - I drank enough milk to keep my body hooked on it. The older I get though, and the less liquid/frozen dairy I eat (cheeses, even fresh cheeses like mozzarella, don't present problems) the more my genetic background is ready to take over and make me pay with a stomach bloated with gas whenever I eat ice cream or drink milk.
So today I was grocery shopping and saw these with their Lactose Friendly claim and threw them in and I AM TELLING YOU - ignore everything about the Bambinis besides the taste. Nothing else matters. They are the best ice cream treat I've ever had, the richest, smoothest tangy-like-creme-fraiche ice cream ever. Like you're eating a cheesecake ice cream sandwich, no ice cream, just solid cheesecake between two chocolate cookies. They are little, and maybe that is a selling point but I'd like a foot-long version for myself. A SOLID 12 INCHER. I don't understand how these taste as good as they do. I've really never had anything better. I wish I could send you guys some, every one of you. Instead, I am going to eat them and think of you, fondly, softly. Sweetly.
If you see them, buy them. I did, with my own money so this is something I stand behind with an empty wallet and I'm going to keep them under my pillow tonight. When I awake, my scalp and side of my face coated with melted goat's milk ice cream, the ants already beginning their pilgramage, it will be in a happier future. With no night farts.
BUY THEM/EAT THEM NOW.
Also, Tracy is FAMOUS GUYS. Such a good lady. Go check out her kitchen (like you haven't already) at The Kitchn!
Before we get going, I'd just like to say that this is the first and only time I've made my own ketchup. This is something special, I did it to do it, not because I believe that packaged condiments are tiny, satanic advocates for an unhealthy life. Because I will All Day Jam on some sweet-hot mustard. All Day Jam and all night, too. You have that condiment, right? The one you'll put on everything, the thing that turns legitimate food into vessels and excuses. Can I tell you about the time, maybe the recent past, maybe too close for comfort, where I spent enough time to worry myself drenching/dunking (which would be a GREAT name for a hybrid basketball/water park theme restaurant, one I hope Stephon would recommend) sticks of room temperature string cheese into a styrofoam cup of Frank's Red Hot, a tiny bottle of which I borrowed from the hotel's restaurant? No, right? I can't. Legally. Okay. So I won't.
I was out of state. In my defense, that was a rough week.
"The garnish? Caramelized baby teeth. Harvested in the night. So sustainable."
I thought we'd take a break from the breakfast portion of Full, my series of full meals and the cause of many questions, like "But I don't want to come over and eat a full breakfast at 6:30 pm, midweek," or "Why did you do this while you were over at my house?" and my favorite, "Are you just...like, having secret people over? Secret brunches?"
When you cook in secret, and I do for this site, people watch you closely. They want to know why you have extras, why you buy single saucers, tiny spoons and strange serving pieces at Goodwill, why they come over and see a composed plate of food on the edge of a table or counter, or perched a metal sheet pan that is balanced on top of a stereo, underneath a skylight. Why you take photos of the food you make, steal menus for inspiration, why you write down steps or quarter recipes or only serve up one or two servings. It isn't a secret anymore, I'm sure, I've stared down my sister as she dared me to deny having "A Food Thing" on the internet. I told her it was either that, or selling pieces of worn, intimate clothing on eBay. Embracing the digital age. I am a child of the future.
I don't eat a lot of fast food, for all the reasons, but when I do, I stick to some solid favorites. Marshmallow malts from Dairy Queen on summer evenings, Turkey Burger with bacon and cheddar from Burgerville late at night, raw dumpster meat from Jack in the Box as the sun rises and from McDonalds, a sausage biscuit, hash browns and orange juice on road trips that require an early start. Nothing beats that, and one of my favorite memories is sitting in the parking lot, shoved into a friend's car after staying up all night and watching the morning turn grey, laps full of greasy food.
The above was born from a craving for that exact meal, only with some alterations - turkey sausage (homemade, so easy and having nothing to do with casings), sweet potatoes instead of white (though I wanted to use Yukon Golds, and plan to next time) and some toppings which steer this past breakfast and into Big Brunch territory. It is still delicious though, and you're free to flip a fried egg on top, too. Or, go traditional.
First up, the recipe for the sausage biscuits. We'll go for the sweet potato patties next, and then the ketchup. It all comes together in a nice bundle, sans paper sleeves and wrapping, but still solid tastiness. You might have to eat this at a table, with a knife and fork, but your friends are still invited and you can stay up all night if you want to.
I suggest eating this while watching MTV's Teen Cribs on a Saturday morning. They cancel each other out.