"The Kosher King of Ann Arbor"

I recently had a fabulous time talking with Emil Boch, chef/co-owner of From the Hearth Food - a catering service offering kosher, vegetarian and vegan dishes - and chef at the University of Michigan Hillel during the school year.  I'd heard only raves about the food Emil serves, including such stellar accolades as this one, from Jeannie Ballew of entre-SLAM:


"I truly can't say enough of this man's cooking.  It is ethereal, other worldly, intoxicating.  He uses only the freshest locally produced ingredients and produce and just seems to have a magical touch with every dish he prepares."

Wow.

So many people I know, from friends to acquaintances, were offering such extraordinary compliments about Emil's cooking - simple lunches at Hillel, take-home Shabbat dinners, catering options for special events - that I simply had to meet this man!

A native of Ortonville, Michigan, Emil is a proponent of the Slow Food movement and its dedication to sustainability, local sourcing, organics, and traditional handmade foods.  He engages in cheese making and charcuterie in his spare time, and received specialized training in Europe to further his knowledge of these hand crafts.  As the bio on his catering site states, Emil "draws inspiration from flavors of India, Latin America, France and Asia, but his style would be best described as New American."  Emil is influenced by many cultures and foods, and brings all of these together to create his own fabulous cuisine.

My friend Donna Shewach, one of Emil's most avid devotees, states that "Emil's cooking can be summed up in two words: simply delicious!  Everything he makes - from soups to main dishes, sides to desserts - is packed with flavor.  His creative use of seasoning and spices from all over the world make his dinners unique and irresistibly delicious ... always innovative and memorable."

Like so many others who are tremendously creative, Emil is a former art student; one of the reasons he left the art community, though, is because he felt he couldn't give up his pieces because of a deep "emotional attachment."  His high level of commitment now finds itself invested in the Ann Arbor/Ypsilanti community - good friends with many other restaurant and brewery owners, a regular chef at Selma Cafe breakfasts, and a volunteer with local food and farm projects.  From the Hearth Food will once again be one of many sponsors at this month's entre-SLAM, a networking event for entrepreneurs, being held at 7 p.m. this Thursday, May 31 at LIVE Ann Arbor (click here to register).

Emil was raised vegetarian and his mother cooked many ethnic foods, so he's well versed in specialized diets and a wide variety of flavors.  Although he's not Jewish, which enables him to work at Hillel during times when work is forbidden to observant Jews, Emil is considered "the Kosher king of Ann Arbor" for the inventive and distinctive dishes he has created in accordance with the dietary laws, as well as for his updates of traditional dishes.  (He can either cook in a home kitchen or in the Hillel kitchen, to certify kashrut standards.)

As Donna, an avowed foodie who keeps kosher, tells me: "When he catered dinner at my home, Emil was wonderful at accommodating all of our dietary preferences, including his delicious vegan dishes that the omnivores enjoyed too."  She also notes that while "Emil's dinners are exceptional by anyone's standards ... if you happen to keep kosher it's an added bonus" that this chef is skilled at preparing meals that go so far beyond the familiar chicken dinner or brisket.  Emil likes to serve "frat boy portions" that are extremely generous, which is great because Donna says "you’re going to want leftovers to enjoy the next day."

Emil is warm, friendly, and immensely likable - if his parking meter hadn't been on the verge of running out, we may very well have kept talking for another hour about everything from Jewish cuisine to the Pixies.  I normally need a flow chart to follow my own tangents, and Emil's quick thinking and gregarious nature even put me to shame!  Not only would you enjoy the food he prepares, but he would be wonderful to work with in planning an event, as well.

Emil very generously shared two different Jewish-influenced recipes: the Carrot Ginger Kugel pictured below and one for Home Cured Salmon, both of which would be perfect for light summertime meals.  From the Hearth Food's website also gives sample menus, to give an even better overview of his abilities and offerings.

You could prepare these dishes yourself, of course.  But as Emil says, because of his very small "family-type business," when you hire him you're "directly supporting" him and his wife and those he hires for events, rather than any large entity or corporation.  So why not let Emil cater a summer event - small or large scale - so you can taste for yourself the amazing dishes that Ann Arborites are so enamored of?


Chef Emil Boch
FromtheHearthFood@yahoo.com
734-645-7308

Easy Carrot Ginger Kugel

4 cups finely chopped carrots, peeled (5-6 medium-sized carrots)

1 cup finely chopped apple, peeled and cored (approximately 1 large apple)

1 teaspoon ground coriander
2 teaspoon fresh grated ginger

1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt

6 eggs

Preheat oven to 375F.  Grease a 9" round cake pan with butter or oil.

Process carrots and apple in food processor until finely chopped.  Add all other ingredients and process until well mixed, fluffy, and foamy.  Pour mixture into prepared pan(s) and bake for 45 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.  Cool slightly and serve warm, or chill overnight and serve cold.

Home Cured Salmon

1 whole side of salmon, 2-3 lbs

1 cup kosher salt

1 cup brown sugar

2 tablespoons coriander seeds

2 tablespoons black peppercorns

1 tablespoons pink peppercorns

1 tablespoons lemon zest

1. Place your salmon filet on a cookie sheet.

2. Rub filet on both sides evenly with the salt, sugar, lemon zest, and spices.

3. Place in a ziplock bag or "brining bag" and place in the refrigerator for up to 24-48 hours, turning over every 12 hours.

4. Rinse the salmon of all of the seasoning and pat dry.

5. Brush lightly with olive oil and garnish with fresh dill and tarragon.

Bookstock

I went to Bookstock yesterday, for the very first time.

I've tried to get there each year, but something always seems to come up to keep me from it.  But not this year!  This year I perused through thousands of used books, piled 'em up in my arms 'til I couldn't hold any more, and wished all the while that I lived closer so I could meander over each day for the week that this fest is being held, just to see what new goodies arrive as it all progresses.

Here's how Bookstock describes itself:


Bookstock, Used Book & Media Sale, is a community service project through which donations of books and media continue to provide enjoyment and knowledge. Proceeds from the sale support education and literacy projects in the Detroit metropolitan area and beyond.


The entire process of collecting and sorting gently used books and media, organizing and staffing the sale is 100% volunteer driven. This approach to recycling used books and media in order to raise money for education and literacy is what makes Bookstock a win-win endeavor for the community. All leftover books from Bookstock are donated to non-profits and charities in our community.

Now, one might think that I'm a bit limited to have bought 7 cookbooks, most of them about Jewish cuisine!  But not only are these books I didn't already have, some of them are also theoretically work-related.  I write about food, and I often write about Jewish food; I'm also writing regularly now for the Washtenaw Jewish News about holidays ... and food!  So to collect a few of the basics among the pantheon of Jewish cookbooks - The 92nd Street Y's International Kosher Cookbook, The World of Jewish Entertaining, and Joan Nathan's The Jewish Holiday Kitchen ... well, how could I resist???

There's also Love and Knishes by Sara Kasdan, which is very cute and chatty, with lots of traditional recipes and generous sprinklings of Yiddish, which I wish I could speak - you can't say anything in other languages as expressively as you can in Yiddish!  My favorite part, though, is the chapter on Yom Kippur Cookery, which totals 4 sentences: "Ah ha!  You looked.  Shame on you!  You should be fasting."  Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is the one day on the Jewish calendar on which no food or water are permitted ... :)

But I also indulged in other interests beyond Jewish food, and bought a cookbook devoted solely to my beloved shortbread, one by Paul Prudhomme and his family, and one devoted to menus inspired by artists such as Brueghel, Rousseau, Mattisse and Monet.  Regular readers have followed along as I've written numerous posts about shortbread, both sweet and savory; about New Orleans and its food; and about art exhibits.  I may be obsessive and single-minded in buying cookbooks almost exclusively, but I'm a happy single-minded obsessive!

And I also have to share with you my moment of amusement.  I once wrote a post about finding copies of In the Kitchen with Rosie: Oprah's Favorite Recipes in every single thrift shop I meander through.  So to find one at Bookstock (and then, in looking at the picture, finding another copy tucked into the pile to the right-hand side of the one I photographed) made me chuckle ....

This Shiksa's Goin' Kosher (Sorta)

It's been a few weeks since I left the old house, and I'm moving on again. I've spent some time camping chez Jeremy and his dad, Stuart, to whom I am enormously grateful for their hospitality despite their affection for the overly fatty (albeit successful) Atkins diet that has been featured in some recent posts. I am also immensely grateful to others who offered me room both in their homes and in their hearts ... truly, I can never adequately repay any of my friends (both in real life and in cyberspace) for their care.

But as of this weekend, I have yet another new kitchen and a new eating regimen: I am staying at the apartment of a beloved snowbirding friend (who prefers not too much recognition for her profound generosity, or else I would probably write a sonnet to her despite not being a poet!). And that beloved snowbirding friend is not only a vegetarian, but she keeps kosher, too.

So, I am going from meat and rich sauces to foods more in keeping with my own desires: light, nutritious, and featuring lots of fruits and vegetables and whole grains. And this shiksa -- [SHIK-suh] = non-Jewish woman (officially, anyway, though I consider myself to be a secular Jew) -- is going to maintain a kitchen according to the Jewish dietary laws.

Now, I know the rules of kashrut ([kahsh-ROOT] = "fitness," literally): no mixing meat with dairy products, and keeping all their respective dishes and cookware and utensils separate ... cracking open eggs one-by-one and inspecting them before combining them with anything, discarding any that have even a pinprick's-worth of blood ... no pork or shellfish. I know to look for hekhshers [HEK-shers], which are symbols indicating that an item has met rabbinic approval. But I've never actually lived it, so this is an exciting adventure!

People think that kosher food is somehow different, when in fact it is simply certified as meeting the terms listed above (an admittedly abbreviated list, but those are the really critical points so as not to overwhelm anyone). All of the items pictured above are kosher ... yup, every one of 'em from the name brands to the generics. If you were to go to your own cupboards, I'll bet you'd find all sorts of hekhshered items, such as:

Hershey's Kisses

Frank's Red Hot sauce
Mueller's noodles
Land o' Lakes margarine
Grey Poupon mustard
Gold Medal flour
Oreos

Near East couscous and rice

Coffeemate

Nutella

Chex cereal

While there are dozens of symbols, usually some variant on a "K," the most widely accepted certification is the OU [just say the letters "o" "u"]; it's usually found in a bottom corner at the front of a package, but sometimes found at the end of an ingredient list. This means that the Union of Orthodox Rabbis has approved the item. The OU -- which has been certifying foods since 1924 -- is the crème de la crème.

Of course, it's much easier to keep kosher in a vegetarian kitchen -- no mingling of meat and dairy, or accidental sullying of dairy dishes/cookware with fleishig ([FLAY-shig] = meat), can take place ... whew! 'Cause it's one thing to know the rules, it's another thing to put them into practice. But I assure you that I will devote myself to the care of my friend's home, and ask a rabbi (I happen to conveniently work with two of them!) if I have any questions.

And should I feel the need to eat meat or to devour anything treyf ([TRAYf] = not kosher) like a cheeseburger or a pepperoni pizza, I can always drop in on Jeremy and his dad or eat out ... :)

Peanut Butter Pie ... Sigh ... :)

At Jeremy's graduation party over the weekend there were a number of dietary concerns to take into consideration, which is why we decided to simply serve desserts rather than hors d'oeuvres or lunch or anything more substantial (or nutritious!).

Many of the people we invited keep kosher, and thus cannot mix meat and dairy products at the same meal. One of our friends has a severe dairy allergy, and so that would have mandated a meat meal if we'd had any notion of providing something for him to eat; but it would have had to meet Rabbinic standards, which would make it prohibitively expensive.

Then, if we'd served a meat meal, that would have relegated our vegetarian friends to eating salad or vegetable sticks or hummus because they won't eat fish, and goodies like macaroni and cheese couldn't be served; and none of this even takes into consideration the picky eaters (bane of my existence) ... oy! My head started to spin in trying to find options for everyone, and so I finally gave up and settled on sweets, a universal favorite.

Those who keep kosher, for the most part, will eat dairy products which have been made in a treyf ([TRAYF] = non-kosher) kitchen like mine. And they'll especially eat things that are pareve [PAHRV], which is neither meat nor dairy such that they can accompany either type of food. And so this was easy -- bake some cookies with toffee chips that were dairy ... serve some fruit, which is obviously vegan ... and make use of items like soy milk to make pareve options. Everyone, in theory, should be happy! (As you can see from the card in the photo above, I labelled each offering so that people would know which category it fell into and not put their health -- or my peace of mind, God forbid! -- at risk.)

When I make pareve items I use non-dairy chocolate chips (which I could pay a lot of money for at a health food store, but which conveniently can also be found as the generic brand at a local grocery store), though you could easily use any other type of chip you want to if dairy products are not a concern. (Although this photo actually shows a bag of pretzels, you can see the designation for the item being "pareve" right next to the OU symbol, which is the highest certification for meeting kosher standards. "Oh, so that's what that little doohickey means! I always wondered ....") And the non-dairy butter substitute of choice -- frankly, the only one I'll use after extensive searching for one that works properly and tastes good -- is Earth Balance. It's still not quite butter, but ....

So today I'll share with you a pareve recipe which works for people who keep kosher, as well as for folks with dairy allergies or lactose intolerance. My Peanut Butter Pie is truly rich, luscious, delicious, and indulgent. Enjoy!!!

Peanut Butter Pie

1 9" pie crust (I bought one at the health food store made with no lard, no butter, no shortening, no hydrogenation)
2 eggs, separated
1/2 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup peanut butter
1/4 cup corn syrup
2/3 cup vanilla soy milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup non-dairy chocolate chips
3 tablespoons finely chopped honey-roasted peanuts

Place the crust into a pie pan. Preheat the oven to 350 F.

In a large bowl, combine the egg yolks, brown sugar, peanut butter, corn syrup, soy milk and vanilla extract. In a medium bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form, then beat them into the peanut butter mixture.

Pour into the pie crust and bake for 30 minutes or so until the filling is set when tested with a toothpick. Cool completely.

Melt the chocolate chips and drizzle the melted chocolate over the pie. Sprinkle with the peanuts and let set until chocolate firms up.

Wordless Wednesday

Don't Get Hungry at the Hospital on a Sunday!!!

Well, as they say, all good things must come to an end; and the fairy tale involving edible (and even appetizing!) food at the unnamed local hospital I was parked at for the weekend while taking care of a loved one has, unfortunately, followed that adage. Whereas Saturday's turkey lunch and spaghetti dinner received glowing compliments -- repeated yesterday during a survey by the food service staff -- the meal which showed up a short while after the rave reviews were offered was ... well ... truly disgusting.

I can personally vouch for that -- I'm the brave soul who tasted it when our anonymous-by-choice patient refused to, and who tried to figure out a way to bring it home to Fuzzybutt before agreeing with the patient that the dog's digestive tract would likely not benefit from this dish. It wasn't fit for human consumption, obviously, but I'm not sure it was fit for pooches either. And while I was courageous enough to at least put some into my mouth, I'm not courageous enough to feed this to the dog and then sit around wondering whether her intestines might explode. We all know who'd be cleaning up the mess, after all.

The meal in question is Beef Chop Suey. If you are ever admitted to this hospital or are visiting someone there, do not order it. I repeat -- keep away from the chop suey!!! Now, in all honesty, it would not have been on my list of options as I read over the menu; it's not one of my favorites to begin with, and the prospect of institutional Chinese-ish food just does not sound enticing to me. But our patient has fond memories of eating it at an aunt's house many moons ago -- apparently she had a knack for making La Choy appetizing, which is a remarkable feat unto itself! -- and was apparently having a nostalgic moment when it was circled on the request sheet.

But then it arrived. And it was cold -- refrigerated, not just lukewarm from having made too long a schlep from the stove to the elevator to the room. And it was mostly gravy, with a chunk or two of "beef." (I can't promise that the stuff floating in the sauce had ever seen, let alone once been, a cow.) And it smelled bad. And, as you can see, it didn't look particularly mouthwatering either. Our patient refused it outright, whereas I -- queen of not wasting food, whether incorporating leftovers into new meals or feeding my pooch's paunch with things no one else wants -- industriously tried to find a container to bring the slop home in. But our patient's wisdom reigned supreme, and I relinquished my quest for the greater good of Fuzzybutt's well-being, as well as that of my carpeting.

The very kind food server offered to warm up the mess, but that really didn't do it any good even once she'd performed the mitzvah. So she let the patient choose an alternative, a deli sandwich, which was excellent except for having been delivered with no condiments of any kind. I offered to go to the cafeteria in search of embellishments like mayonnaise and mustard, but this was graciously refused, I think, simply for the sake of not wanting to wait any more to stave off hunger.

I had brought my lunch -- a salad of white beans and tuna with tomatoes and onion and carrots, all dressed with a balsamic vinaigrette to which I'd added a touch of my beloved Mustard From Hell (available at Copernicus Polish Market on Main Street in Ann Arbor) -- in order to save some money and also because our patient was supposed to go home yesterday; a simple lunch requiring no heating or refrigeration seemed ideal, with dinner to be determined depending upon our patient's cravings. However, some lab results are still pending; thus discharge has been delayed until today, we hope.

And so, the rice crackers that we'd brought along for snack purposes clearly needed to be supplemented by late afternoon. I'm a good eater -- I needed dinner, which was a difficult prospect on a Sunday. The bagel shop was closed, though I wasn't particularly inclined to eat either refined flour or yeast, two things I make some effort to avoid if possible. I asked about the kosher items, which I know are prepared by Chef Cari in Oak Park; I've eaten her food before at special events she's been hired to cater, and was intrigued by the possibilities of what she might offer for pre-packaged hospital meals. But those were all bought out, despite some very helpful service from a cashier who tried to find them for me but could only apologize for their lack of availability. Good thing I don't actually keep kosher, huh???

And thus, let me show you what my non-vending machine options were, sad as the array might be for you to observe:

Stale doughnuts ....


A salad bar with dried-out pasta and some sad looking fruit ....


A pizza sitting under a heat lamp ... but it's made with a whole wheat crust! (I do have to admit that I gave this one some consideration, in order to get some protein from the cheese.)


Chicken tenders, chicken fingers, some star-shaped hash browns (I think), and some fish strips maintaining their tans under a lamp ....


And two different varieties of bean soup ....


Sigh ....

So after walking by the grill a few times, hoping not to have to resign myself to a burger, I finally resigned myself to having a burger. This picture makes it look pretty good, I must admit; and, in all honesty, it wasn't wretched. But it hardly compares to the burgers enjoyed last week, which I wrote about with such enthusiasm!

Of course, I might not be quite so disparaging had I not witnessed for myself that the beef patties had all been pre-formed -- not to mention pre-cooked! -- then placed in rows in a baking sheet, ready to be plucked up and plopped onto the grill when ordered so that they could be re-heated and further dried out. (This photo op was just begging for me, but the grillmeister was standing right there at the counter and I couldn't very well explain my intentions!) And while I could have ordered it without the bun, at that point I was just strolling down the path of least resistance and indulged in the soft, squishy refined flour bun to complete my Sunday evening dining experience. And I ate the entire thing -- fries, pickle, burger and all ... urp! (Excuse me ....)

Our patient's Chicken Caesar Salad arrived cold, though not quite as cold as the Chop Suey had. The greens looked good, there was a generous amount of chicken and cheese, and the accompanying carrot cake looked and smelled very good. But this was a meager meal, even for someone who generally eats small meals and whose appetite has been compromised while not feeling well.

So fortunately our patient was permitted to meander off the ward once yet another i.v. drip was finished, and we were able to stroll on downstairs to watch the entertaining ice cream vending machine do its amusing job of delivering chocolate-filled ice cream sandwiches. We took them down to the lobby, where there is an art exhibit that appears to be inspired by microbials -- huge, colorful paintings of shapes that appear other-worldly, which make for a very lively display. And considering that our patient has artistic tendencies, this was a perfect diversion after a weekend of tedium and misery ... :)

Here's hoping that there are no further forays into the mysterious workings of the hit-a-homer or miss-by-miles hospital food service!

A Day-Long Food Fest

Oh, man, Sunday was an incredible festival of food!  Tom, Jeremy and I started out in Berkley, at O'Mara's Irish Restaurant on 12 Mile at Coolidge (as opposed to Coolidge at 12 Mile ... inside joke, after my father corrected me for phrasing it improperly).  It was an occasion for Tom to meet my parents, for me to visit with Tom's dad and stepmother again, for Jeremy to meet some of Tom's family ... it was -- as Tom succinctly put it -- "Lunch with the In-Laws" despite there not even being any engagement let alone a marriage.  It was a convenient way to phrase a complicated arrangement ... and it's kinda sweet, too.  And we needed to play yenta and get all of the old(er) folks together, since my parents live in Birmingham while Tom's live in Royal Oak ... they're practically neighbors!

I'd never been to O'Mara's before, but it was well worth the schlep across 696; Jeremy -- who has recently embraced being 1/8 Irish with a manic devotion -- has now declared it his new favorite restaurant.  There was a beautiful mural of charming Irish doorways along one wall, a gigantic Guinness mirror on another wall, and just a warm, friendly atmosphere with no one rushing anyone out the door.  I never got to look at a menu, because a Sunday brunch that was exceptionally good -- with lots of choices for everyone (from good eaters to picky nuisances) -- was already waiting for us: a beautiful assortment of breads and rolls, a lovely green salad, a gorgeous fruit tray, tuna pasta salad, macaroni and cheese, bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, corned beef hash, hash browns, French toast, a variety of cakes and pastries, and -- the absolute pièce de résistance -- some of the best scalloped potatoes I've ever eaten (which both my mother and Monica, Tom's stepmother, had raved about before we went up to the table to peruse the offerings).

Now, anyone who encounters me for even a few brief moments knows at least two things about me: I'm not shy about being the first one up at the buffet table, and I'm also not shy about going up for seconds.  But I didn't want to be a glutton -- not to mention being unable to eat the breakfast meats because the ubiquitous sodium nitrite gives me migraines -- so I exhibited restraint and stuck to salad, fruit, mac 'n' cheese (it was home-style, with real cheese on top ... how could I resist???), the divine potatoes, and splitting small pieces of luscious mocha and lemon cakes with Tom.  (Still recovering from the hamantaschen binge of Purim, no massive quantities of food were on the agenda.)  I enjoyed myself immensely, always happy to eat and to converse and to eat a bit more.  And everyone else seemed to enjoy both the food and the company, as well; our parents even compared notes on afternoon naps and having doctor appointments as their primary source of entertainment ... groan.  My father and Gary (Tom's dad) were similar sorts who long for the good ol' days and an old-fashioned work ethic, while my mother and Monica were the last to leave the table because they were so congenially engaged in conversation with each other.  "Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match ...."

After that, we went to my new favorite grocery store: One Stop Kosher Food Market at 10 Mile and Greenfield in Southfield.  I'd been there once before, a few weeks ago, and only had sufficient time to peruse the perimeter ... but that was enough for me to fall in love at first sight.  I felt right at home, as though I were back in NYC where I grew up, shopping side-by-side with Orthodox Jews wearing yarmulkes and wigs and tzitzit and black hats.  And the food -- oh, the food!!!  Bagels and rugelach (crescent-shaped cookies, usually with a chocolate or a fruit filling) and babka (an exceptional coffee cake) and knishes (single-serving savory "pies" with a variety of fillings, from potato to cheese to -- oh, my God!!! -- pastrami) ... I was in my gluttonous glory just absorbing it all!

I bought some Bazooka gum (sugar and all, I'm sorry to say) because the writing on the wrappers was in Hebrew.  I bought some cotton candy (more sugar, virtually nothing but sugar) because it was made by Manischewitz (which has a very special place in my heart after inviting me to be a semi-finalist in its 2nd cook-off) and the container would be perfect -- priceless! -- for bringing lunch items to work.  (I have a very strong sense of whimsy, it seems.)  I bought chocolate-covered matzahs, because that's one of my favorite Pesach (Hebrew for "Passover") foods and the price was better at One Stop than I find it to be in Ann Arbor.  And I bought another box of my beloved Alef Beis (alphabet) cookies so that I can not only have a treat to enjoy with cocoa or with tea, but so that I can practice reading Hebrew by forming words with the cookies ... my equivalent to eating Alpha-Bits or alphabet soup and playing with my food!  I even bought a container of something called "Whip," which is a non-dairy cream.  In order to make baked goods that are pareve [PAHRv] -- neither meat nor dairy -- for my Jewish friends who keep kosher, as well as being able to provide treats for one who has a dairy allergy, I use Earth Balance vegan butter substitute and soy milk or yogurt; but now I can melt some pareve chocolate chips with Whip and even make a glaze or ganache or frosting, as well.  It takes so little to make me happy ... :)

And then, once we got back home, it was on to my food for the Oscars.  I'm not much of a t.v. fan, but will admit to watching the occasional movie on Turner Classics (usually an MGM musical), baseball (lots of baseball ... lots and lots of baseball!), the Tonys, "Monk," and the Oscars.  I care a bit about who wins the awards, but not a lot since I usually haven't seen many of the movies.  But I love to see the clothes, even though I know this makes me seem very shallow and inane ... oh, well, we all have our moments.

For the show, I offered a buffet with not much of a theme other than simply not requiring any utensils -- I'm not Wolfgang Puck, after all, making Oscar-shaped pumpernickel bread toasts with lox or mini gold leaf-covered chocolate statues!  (In a previous life, I might have tried; but now ...?)  We ate a tropical chicken salad (minced chicken, papaya, pineapple, toasted coconut, and a curried coconut milk sauce to kinda/sorta/maybe bind it together) dolloped onto crispy rice crackers, fruit, an assortment of vegetables for dipping, some exceptionally good salt-and-pepper kettle cooked potato chips, and an experimental dip for which I should win some sort of prize:

1 cup sour cream

1 teaspoon each cumin and paprika

1/2 teaspoon Ras el Hanout -- a Moroccan spice blend

a splash of Tabasco

a pinch of kosher salt

a sprinkling of Cajun seasoning

1 tablespoon of my new favorite condiment -- Polish Mustard From Hell

And I made peanut butter cookies -- adding both chopped honey-roasted peanuts and peanut butter chips -- because ... well, who needs a reason???  They're fabulous, soft, crumbly, rich, delicious, and addictive.  It's sort of surprising that there are any left, but then I did bake a lot of them ....

So, that was my Sunday -- eating food, buying food, making food, eating more food.  Not a bad way to end the weekend!