Category Archives: Food

My attempts at cooking certain things have proven some of the most fertile grounds for learning to embrace the imperfections inherent in daily life. Multiple pancake disasters, a few bad run-ins with the rising of yeast, and a spilled pan of candied yams here and there have conspired to chip skillfully away at my desire for perfection, forcing a valuable lesson in accepting defeat, and embracing the notion that the quest for perfection is a losing one. 

With that in mind, I present this plate of folded eggs, which looks a bit of a mess and fright but is actually one of the easiest and most delicious breakfasts I’ve made in a year. I was idly swiping through my phone to pull myself out of some social media cooking/recipe hole I’d plunged into thanks to Babs, and I lazily paid scant attention to a folded eggs idea which was just scrambled eggs that weren’t stirred as much, left in an-almost runny state. I got the gist of it then fell not-so-promptly asleep (as one does when scrolling through the phone while in bed). 

The next morning I remembered the basics of the recipe, and decided to give it a try. For this version, I used four eggs, a couple of thinly-sliced scallions, a small bunch of chopped parsley, a smaller bunch of chopped cilantro, some dill weed, salt and pepper. Then I added a few tablespoons of half-and-half and whisked it all together. I heated a medium-sized pan, and dropped in three generous pats of butter – once they melted and started bubbling, I poured the eggs in and let them sit. Turning down the heat, I gently began pulling the cooked bottom layer around so the liquid parts could reach the pan. Repeating this carefully until it was all just barely runny (I turned off the heat completely once they were getting close) I then rolled the whole thing onto a pretty plate. (For scrambled eggs, I would have been more vigorous and regular in my stirring.) It wasn’t meant to look pretty, as the goal was a rustic but delicious dish, and I went into it expecting and desiring a bit of that imperfection. The end result delivered – more for the mouth than the eyes, and that’s what matters. 

While some parts of my hometown make me rather sad/mad, there are some that make me incredibly happy, and that was in full evidence when I picked up breakfast for my parents from DomAdi’s Deli. One of the specials that morning was this breakfast wrap, named for Bitsy, so whoever Bitsy is I would like to personally thank them for inspiring such deliciousness. A glorious mash-up of scrambled eggs, bacon, American cheese, and a hash brown, it was the perfect wrap with which to start the day. 

As I was standing in line to order, a gentleman remarked how he kept coming back there because the food was so good. That’s the sort of fabled hometown affability that goes unmentioned and unheralded too often, and whenever I experience it I want to celebrate and amplify the message. It’s also infectious, and as I headed downtown to the post office, the sun was shining through the winter, the sky was blue, and the friendly gentleman taking my stamp order responded as happily as I requested it. No matter where I go in life, and no mater where I’ve been, I’ll always be a son of Amsterdam. 

Back to Bitsy and DomAdi’s Deli – the food was indeed remarkable. For the upcoming ‘A Taste of Amsterdam‘ (Feb. 6 to 12), they will be offering a dinner special which includes a Korean bulgogi sub and slice of chocolate cake for $18.85 (since 1885 was the year Amsterdam was established) – and that combo sounds like my idea of heaven.

DomAdi’s is located right off the Thruway at Exit 27, so even if you’re not an Amsterdam local it’s an easy stopover to pick up a meal. Check out their FaceBook page here for updated daily specials – that’s how I found out about Bitsy’s Breakfast Special Wrap. (And be sure to say hello to the fabulous Elizabeth when you’re there – we went to high school together and somehow she doesn’t hate me.)

From the shriveled to the delectable, this blog day is all about the balls. Here we have a thoughtful and much-appreciated gift from our friends Lorie and Cal, who brought back these mint malt balls from our favorite candy shop in Ogunquit, Maine. It was an unexpected delight on a day when it was badly-needed, and it instantly brought Andy and I back to happy memories of that Beautiful Place By the Sea. 

While we have found similar treats at our local market, the original ones have a decidedly different, and much better, taste and texture to them, so it was with gleeful excitement that I tore into the bag, savoring each ball like it might be the last. The memories returned in giddy and wild form – fall visits and spring stops, cozy meals and romantic moments, peaceful times and breathtaking vistas – it was like a little pill of Ogunquit that suddenly exploded in my brain. 

Thank you Lorie and Cal!

Babs is the nickname for Barbara Costello, whose recipes and TikTok account have taken off thanks to recipes like this Christmas Breakfast Casserole. With the glorious culinary alchemy that results from eggs, sausage, cheese and bread, her Breakfast Casserole is one of the easiest and most rewarding things one can make for a Sunday brunch or special occasion breakfast such as Christmas morning. I tried it out on the twins when they had a sleepover here last weekend, and it was as much assembling it with them the night before as it was eating it the next morning. 

As described, the preparation for this casserole takes place the night before you want to have it, then left in the fridge for all the flavor and ingredients to marry before baking the next morning in the magic way that casseroles have of coming together. It’s perfect as the centerpiece for a more extravagant brunch gathering, as it just needs to be popped in the oven for 45 minutes and then it’s done. According to Babs, it also reheats beautifully – the best kind of flexible dish for when other items like poached eggs or a Hollandaise are more time-sensitive. (Not that I’m doing poached fucking eggs or a GD Hollandaise – this casserole is all I can manage when watching two twelve-year-olds.) 

My Mom is having our family friend Elaine over for a night this week, so I’ll put together one of these for them to bake in the morning. A dish that allows for people to socialize without excessive kitchen effort is a beautiful thing indeed. 

They were skeptical at first, the way they are with every new thing their Uncle Al has ever shown them, but after a dozen years of having their skepticism turn to delight, they were up to trying it. For this dinner on New Year’s day, after feasting at the family’s early lunch, we assembled a hodge-podge of random items after making a hasty trip to Price Chopper to procure whatever additional ideas they each had. Noah chose fruit and Emi chose Cheese – a Vermont Sharp Cheddar.

I told them to try it with a slice of apple. They looked at me as if I was kidding, or trying to get them to do something they wouldn’t like, even though I always end up giving them the best of what I’ve enjoyed thus far. And so they sampled a slice of cheese and apple and marveled at the wonder of them together. The way their eyes lit up, the surprise and delight they genuinely felt as the textures and tastes combined – this was the thrill of raising kids, and I rarely got to see such moments.

This summer, I will introduce them to melon and prosciutto.

“That Welsh rabbit was ginger peachy.” ~ Meet Me In St. Louis

Often referred to as ‘Welsh rabbit’ or ‘Welsh rarebit’, this is the famous appetizer mentioned in the holiday classic ‘Meet Me in St. Louis’ and I finally got around to making it. I used this Food Network recipe by Alton Brown, which seemed like a strong foundation upon which to begin. It’s quite simple if you have all the ingredients (I had to get a can of Guiness for the 1/2 cup of beer required, but all the rest was on hand.) It’s basically a deconstructed grilled cheese sandwich of sorts, a bit of a béchamel with beer and dijon mustard for some kick, and couple drops of hot sauce to liven it up. Personally, I found it a little bland, and if I ever do this one again (most likely for a lark at a dinner party) I will be sure to tinker around a bit to give it some additional oomph). Otherwise, served over a bed of toasted rye bread, this makes for a decent winter treat after a bout of shoveling or ice skating or skiing or fill-in-the-blank-with-another-winter-activity-in-which-I-will-not-be-participating.

Side-note: there is no meat, rabbit or otherwise, in this dish. Google the reasons how it got the nickname. I’m in a post-holiday spell of laziness.

Other side-note: When Andy came into the kitchen and surveyed the dish, he simply remarked, “Somebody threw up on a plate” then walked out. 

Soup season is on, and the inaugural experiment was this basic vegetable soup, to which I added some udon noodles and soft-boiled eggs at the end. The beginning was how most soups began – with carrots, onions, and celery. For some heat, I dropped a dried guajillo chili into the pot, then some crushed red pepper flakes, salt, black pepper, and some garlic and ginger. Rounding out the vegetables were some baby boy choy, tomatoes, green beans, and peas. Boiled it gently for about 40 minutes and it was ready. Added the udon and a squeeze of fresh lemon for some bite. 

This soup was to fortify and flush my body after the double-dose of the COVID and flu vaccine, and it worked. No ill effects aside from minor sore arms which lasted about a day. Peace of mind = priceless. Happy Soup Season. 

This recipe, gleaned from the grandeur that is TikTok, originally had me skeptical, but after trying it out to great success, I’m posting it here in all its culinary blasphemy, and throwing caution to the Sandra Lee wind. It uses a box cake, and pumpkin, and melds the idea of a tres leches cake into its creation, so its wrong on just about every level you can think of, but the end result tastes oh-so-right. We don’t stand on kitchen ceremony here.

It’s a pumpkin tres leches cake, and you may find that it entirely replaces the need for the lackluster pumpkin pie that most people are simply over, particularly those who do the pumpkin thing out of obligation rather than genuine preference. It begins with a box of yellow or vanilla cake, mixed according to the instructions, then amended with an additional egg, a 15 oz can of pumpkin puree, and a tablespoon of pumpkin pie spice (or just some cinnamon and nutmeg – this is a forgiving thing). Bake that in a greased 9 x 13 inch pan at 350 degrees for 40 minutes. (You need not undercook to ensure a moist consistency – that comes later.)

After cooling for about 15 minutes, poke a bazillion holes in the cake (I used a fork and went up and down in neat little rows cause I’m a Virgo) and then cool another 15 minutes. In a bowl, mix 1 can sweetened and condensed milk, 1 can evaporated milk, and about 1/3 cup heavy cream and 1 teaspoon vanilla. Slowly pour this milk mixture (the tres leches of the title) onto the cake, allowing it to soak into every little hole. Cover and refrigerate overnight (or at least five hours).

Before serving, make the whipped topping, which is just 2 cups heavy cream, 1/3 cup powdered sugar, 1 teaspoon vanilla, and 1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice. Whip that shit into the desired consistency, firm, but not butter-firm (kinda the state of my ass these days) and spread it out atop the cake (the whipped topping, not my ass). 

This was an absolute hit with my family, including my niece and nephew, who have given the thumbs down to my last three cake concoctions, so it’s bound to please yours. It’s November. It’s time to consider your Thanksgiving menu.  

You may have heard of a partridge in a pear tree, but have you ever found an owl in a pear? This sort of sorcery is what thrills me most about going through the simple motions of a morning. It’s a little bit of magic in a mundane task – carving out the heart of a pear before roasting – only to reveal the unexpected face of an owl. To open the mind to the possibility of such enchantments is a way of returning to childlike wonder – a portal to a more carefree time. 

To be observant is to be present on a whole different level. It allows for the space that makes room for whimsy to enter. I think we miss a lot of the beauty of the world because we are too rushed and unfocused to see how it’s all around us.

As for secret, surprise owls, that is the nature of such a magnificent creature. 

I don’t think I’ve had a cup of hot tea since April. Once spring breaks, I set the tea kettle to the side and don’t pick it up again until, well, now. That means I’ve been waiting patiently since my birthday to use this attractive tea cup that Suzie brought back from a trip to Denmark. This morning, with a fall chill in the air, and no socks on my bare feet, I switched from the iced summer smoothies to a cup of hot matcha. It was time. 

Far more than mere sustenance, a cup of tea is a ritual. Carefully executed with a calm and patient countenance, it can become an exercise in mindfulness. A lovely way to enter the day, it primes the body and the brain for whatever may come. As we claw our way through these last few days of Mercury in retrograde motion, a peaceful start to the day may make all the difference. 

Please feel free to pause in your day for a cup of tea, or just a moment of mindfulness. It’s all going so fast, and it’s going to keep going unless we all slow things down.