Ramen Noodles: Good Bad Food

I got food poisoning recently and threw up every over-priced sandwich, mimosa, and eggs benedict I’d eaten in the days prior.  I’m alone! I’m sick!  I just want to die! I cried out to the Twitter abyss.  I emerged 24 hours later, pulling my face from the toilet, and thinking I’d never regain my appetite.  I briefly considered what this would mean for my figure and lifestyle when I suddenly felt a tiny pang of hunger. I had the most intense craving for one thing and one thing only: Ramen Noodles.

There’s Good Bad Food and there’s Bad Bad Food.  The first descriptor refers to taste, and the second to quality.  (Calories are not of consideration in this model.) Something tasty and fresh would be Good Good Food.  Something nasty and processed would be Bad Bad Food. Terrible in theory, yet delicious in your mouth, Ramen Noodles are what I call Good Bad Food.
Delectable, yet mysteriously so, Ramen Noodles hold unparalleled intrigue.  Contained and controlled in a neat packet, they loosen in a pot of boiling water, emerging like a flower, a baby, or love’s first kiss.  We are wound so tightly, and the three-minute release of the Ramen brick is letting one’s guard down, a transformation where one is relaxed, complete, and unashamed of eating such shit for dinner.
There was a segment on All Things Considered last year where thousands of listeners submitted stories about Ramen Noodles.  This prompted me to Google the prepackaged soup and find countless websites devoted to their glory.  The world’s infatuation with Ramen Noodles is both insatiable and fascinating.  Processed, laced with MSG, unfulfilling, and ultimately average, Ramen Noodles are a comfort food among comfort foods, uniting the planet in a tightly wound coil of cheap pasta. I also adore them, but am unsure why.
So, what say you?  Are Ramen Noodles a guilty pleasure or just a pleasure?  Can any other food cross over geographic and social lines quite like they can?  Is a pack of ten soup-bricks the ultimate universal truth?

There's an App for That: Nerd Cookies 2010

Oh no, I said when Sydney suggested that we get store-bought dough for our iPhone app holiday cookies.  We are NOT half-assing this.
Now, I’m no newb to nerd cookies: last year I made a bajillion completely awesome Falloutcookies with my then-boyfriend.  And after declaring our love for the internet with Hashtag and Retweet Halloween costumes this year, Sydney and I knew we could step it up for the holiday season and bring our A-game. So, I busted out the Joy of Cooking, and flipped to the Rich Roll Cookies. It's the one with the additional stick of butter.

This is an incredibly easy recipe.  You only need butter, sugar, flour, vanilla extract, and an egg. You do need some equipment, though, and I lost the Kitchen Aid in the divorce (as my mom calls my break-up).  Sydney’s mom had a handheld electric mixer that seemed up to the task.  It wasn’t.  We had about 85% of the flour mixed into the dough when it started to smoke.  We turned it off before it went up like a Christmas tree in a hookah bar, but had to manually mix in the rest of the flour.

Of course, for roll cookies, you’re supposed to have a rolling pin.  Rolling pin, shmolling pin; we used a wine bottle.  Proper kitchen tools are for sissies.
Plus, we had a system.  Always, always have a system.
Being the gentle one, I rolled; being better with sharp objects, Sydney cut them out with the lid of a tea tin.  Once you get these cut out, they bake in ten minutes flat and you’re well on your way.

The next step was decorating.  We got big tubs of white and chocolate store-bought frosting. (Okay, fine, we half-assed a little).  I also had regular and neon food coloring sets.  So, about eight colors total.
Fact: Twitter and Foursquare are not the same blue.  And most of the apps are two-toned.  It’s well worth your time to make several shades of blue: the color is what makes the apps recognizable, and honestly, you’re only going to be so precise with soft, gooey frosting.

For piping, we used plastic sandwich bags. We dropped in a dollop of frosting and snipped a tiny hole in the corner.  What came next was a little intense:
Where’s the [expletive] green frosting!? Sydney demanded.
It's not my [expletive] job to mix your [expletive] frosting! I shot back, smudging chocolate frosting on the white T of the New York Times App.
Sydney flicked me off with a frosted finger.
[Expletive] this [Expletive]! I yelled.  I need a damn massage!
No pain, no gain, I suppose.

And so, we brought the cookies to work to share.  Because that’s the point.  To be nice and stuff.  Watching people eat them was a little bit like watching our children get eaten, though.  We worked really hard on those babies.
The consensus was, however, that they were pretty frickin’ cute, and pretty damn tasty.  (Tasty was a bonus, because our primary focus was being cute.)  But like I said, we don’t screw around when we’re geeking out, holiday style.

Happy Holidays!

Dinner Tonight, Lunch Tomorrow

The first time I tried to make a simple, chunky tomato sauce it turned out strangely sweet, and not quite right.  The second time I tried it, I left the hot oil on the stove while I got distracted on my computer (the internet really does diminish one's ability to focus; did you read that article in the New York Times?) and nearly started a fire.  The third time was closer, but the sauce-to-pasta proportion was off.  The fourth time turned out to be the charm as I succeeded in successfully cranking out a meal without a recipe.  This is a very simple dish, the quality of which highly depends on your ingredients.  And that's good for us newbs because we can control the ingredients; just go to the farmer's market.



All you do for this is heat up some EVOO in your pan.  Watch it because the oil will ignite if you leave it there.  Next add some minced garlic and fry that up for a second.  Then chop up some tomatoes, add those.  At this point, you really just let it hang out.  Adding salt, pepper, and your herbs.  Obviously fresh basil is ideal, but I used dried as I hadn't been to the store.  A touch of thyme is also good.  Then, simmer to desired chunkiness, and cook the pasta when you're ready (try spinach or whole wheat).  Mix it together, top with parmesan or Romano cheese, and you're good to go.  Dinner tonight, lunch tomorrow!

Guest Post! Prosciutto and Peaches

My friend Natalia and her mom Eileen told about this impromptu dish they made with a peach from the farmer's market.  It sounded so good (and easy), I wanted them to share it!

There’s always prosciutto and melon…but, prosciutto and peaches?

I contemplated that combination while strolling through the Central Bethesda Farmer’s Market and thinking of the six or so slices of delicious prosciutto sitting in my refrigerator. Why not? After all, the concept is simple: salty paired with juicy. One succulent peach from the Two Acre Farm vendor and later that afternoon the dish is executed. I topped it off with a few basil leaves (sliced chiffonade style) from my balcony garden. Summer delight!

By Eileen Pelayo
Photo by Natalia Pelayo

Summer Spiedini

So this is an old Italian family recipe, but not from my family.  Well, it's from my mom's childhood, and although her Italian father made all kinds of good food, she ate these spiedinis at the home of a family she babysat for.  My mom then adapted the recipe and made it for me when I was little.  Now, whenever I go home to visit, I always ask for spiedinis.  I have never made them on my own because it requires a specific cut of meat, and buying meat thoroughly confuses me, so I avoid it.

Anyway, if you've never had a spiedini, it's a thin piece of steak rolled around a breadcrumb-parsley mixture.  What you want is top round steaks cut into thin slices.  My mom says sometimes they're labeled as breakfast steaks.  You then cut these into 2" x 4" rectangles.  For the mixture, you'll need a chopped onion, a lot of fresh parsley, olive oil, salt, pepper, oregano, basil, garlic, and a 1/2 cup of breadcrumbs.  First, saute the onion in olive oil, then add the garlic, then the herbs.  Save the breadcrumbs for last, because they can burn.  About a tablespoon of the mixture gets rolled in each slice of meat.  You then skewer them, and grill them for five minutes per side.

*Pro Tip: Use your broiler in the winter.

Brie^3 = St. André Cheese

The first time I had brie was back in the fifth grade.  I was taking weekly French classes in preparation for a trip to Paris as part of an exchange program.  Every week we tasted a new cheese, and we were to write down and remember our favorites so we'd know what we liked when we got to France.  I remember writing (in an unnecessarily full sentence) "I like Brie cheese."

In any case, today I had brie's older and more sexually experienced cousin, St. André.  St. André is a soft, rich, triple-crème cheese from Heaven, Hell, or France, depending on how you look at it.  Trying to cook with it would be downright disrespectful, so top your St. André with a dollop of jam or honey and call it dessert.  I'm not sure how the nutrition facts compare to ice cream, but like High Fructose Corn Syrup and Say Yes to the Dress, SA is fine in moderation.

Ooh la la!

Baby's First Dinner Party

Guys, I've taken a very big step in the development of my womanhood.  I (co)hosted my very first dinner party!  My friend Sydney was housesitting for a friend all month, and to return the favor, he green-lighted a girls' night at his place.  Now, Sydney calls me her "domestic role model," so needless to say I laughed when she suggested we have a party with food. "I'll make the drinks!" she piped, her mind already on sangria. Shrugging it off, I agreed to make dinner.  As the party neared, however, I panicked. Reading MarthaStewart.com with great fervor, I was inspired by a grilled white pizza with arugula.  It reminded me of a similar pizza at one of my favorite DC restauraunts, Cafe Deluxe.  It was simple and summery, which was important because Sydney had already sent out an invitation declaring the dress code to be sundresses.

Before you get too excited, though, I'll tell you I didn't actually grill the pizza like Martha said.  I packed up my pizza stone and peel in a grand effort to finally master it.  (I realized that last time I just didn't heat the stone long enough or at a high enough temperature beforehand.)  I didn't do the toppings exactly like Martha either because I thought it might be fun for everyone to make their own pizza.  I tried hard to keep the toppings unconventional and creative, though.  In addition to Martha's suggested fontina and arugula, I got different colored bell peppers, fresh basil, goat cheese (huge hit), prosciutto, salami, and I even sliced up a sweet potato.  No one was terribly excited about the sweet potato, but that actually tasted pretty good, too.  For the crust and sauce (which we only used on some pizzas) Sydney and I went to our favorite neighborhood Italian deli, Vace.  They make everything there (even pasta!) so we just got a bunch of homemade dough, plus the imported meat.

All in all, this meal was a success.  The food was good, the company was good, and the whole ordeal was surprisingly stress-free.  I'm definitely feeling more confident after completing this rite of passage.  All I need now is a big-girl job, and I'll be a real woman!

Read more about Sydney, and her reviews of DC's best happy hours on her blog, The Bottomless Mimosa.