The other day I learned something truly profound.
Let me share it with you.
We were talking about heartbeats in class. What’s normal, what’s not, arrhythmias, murmurs. That kind of thing.
And I could tell that the doctor who leads our small group session was getting antsy. Not only was this not in the realm of his, in my opinion, limited body of knowledge. But we were having the discussion without him. And he’s the type of guy for whom. Not being the center of attention. Does. Not. Fly.
I’ve created a monster.
I know that’s what you’re thinking.
I can read minds. And see dead people.
If only that weren’t. Quite. So. Literal.
People go to casinos for the same reason they go on blind dates – hoping to hit the jackpot. But mostly, you just wind up broke or alone in a bar.
Wise words. Spoken by the ever-knowing Carrie Bradshaw.
Can we have a moment of silence for SATC?
Thanks.
Now I have been on a fair number of blind dates in my life.
A friend of a friend of a friend’s second cousin once removed.
A guy randomly encountered at a Starbucks/Au Bon Pain/non-descript coffee shop that you (I) frequent on a daily (hourly) basis.
That homeless guy on the corner of 68th and 1st who you pass on your way to work every day. (Dear Mom, please don’t have a heart attack while reading this. I haven’t stooped quite that low. Yet.)
And they have basically all ended as Carrie described above. In flames. Obviously. Otherwise this post would be titled How I Met the Love of My Life: Why Going Blind Isn’t Always A Bad Thing. And instead of post, it would actually be a self-help book that you pick up at Borders when no one else is looking and page through fervently, hoping to find the key to all of your relationship problems (NOTE – thirty-year-olds who have never been in serious relationships probably have commitment issues…THAT little tidbit of information would have revolutionized my life. Or at least my junior year of college. This is a lesson to live by. Write. It. Down.)
With all this in mind. It was in trepidation that I braved the freezing cold yesterday. To embark on my first blind date in, oh, two months.
I needn’t have worried, though. Because it was only semi-blind. And it ended up being the best. Blind. Date. Ever.
Possibly because rather than being an actual blind date. It was a BLOGGER MEET-UP.
Last night, I had dinner at Five Burro Cafe, this fabulous Mexican restaurant in Queens, with Mari of Namaste, Jen of Pieces of Me, Julie of Julie Golean, Mo of Food Snob, Dawn of Dawn Dishes It Out, Sarah of Mom On The Run, and Missy of Missy Maintains. Which we then followed up with FREE frozen yogurt from The Lite Choice.
The food was great.
But the company was even better. I look forward to hanging out with all of these lovely ladies again (I’m thinking we need to make this a regular event. Seriously.).
Moral – If you’re going to go out on a blind date. Make sure it’s with a fellow food blogger. You might still go home broke and alone. But at least you’ll have had a good meal. And the beginning of a lasting relationship.
Pasta with Roasted Red Pepper Sauce
Serves 2, adapted from Pioneer Woman Cooks
2 red bell peppers
1 tbsp pine nuts
1 onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cups half and half
1/2 lb pasta
1. Roast the red peppers. Either by putting them on a grill. Broiling them. Or doing it the ghetto Manhattan-style way. By placing them on top of your burner.
2. When they are black on all sides, place them in a closed container for 10 minutes to sweat off the skin. Remove the skin and the seeds from the peppers. Set aside.
3. Lightly toast the pine nuts in a skillet. Set aside.
4. Puree the peppers with the pine nuts.
5. Cook the pasta until al dente.
6. In a skillet, cook the onion and garlic until soft. Pour in the pepper puree and stir together. Add plenty of salt.
7. Pour in the half and half and stir to combine. Taste and add more salt. Mix with the cooked pasta.
8. Serve, in bowls, and top with parsley and/or parmesan cheese.
This is my submission for Foodie Fans of the Pioneer Woman! And Presto Pasta Nights, which is being hosted by Ruth of Once Upon A Feast!
I get it.
And by “it” I mean this whole Adam-and-Eve thing.
Why they gave up immortality and nudity and bliss. For an apple.
Let’s backtrack. Start from the beginning.
Once upon a time there was a God. 7 days. Plus 7 nights. Creationism. Intelligent Design. Evolution. Whatever else is being taught at the local elementary school these days (I’m almost afraid to ask. Sometimes all of this controversy cracks me up. Most American children are illiterate. They can’t read. And we are worried about which creation story to tell them about. Somehow. I think we’ve got bigger fish to fry.).
You get the picture.
So we’re in this garden. Eden.
We have an Adam. And an Eve.
Who are living together in this garden in what is essentially wedded bliss. (They are still in the honeymoon phase. Give them a few years. They’ll be fighting about how Adam spends all his time ruminating and communing with God and never once asks Eve whether or not she needs help trimming the really high branches on the banana tree. You’ll see.)
Enter a snake. And an apple tree.
Now. It would be all well and good to go with convention and say they did it because the snake told them to. He planted the idea in their head. Lured them with the promise of eternal knowledge. And all that jazz.
However. In case you didn’t know. I am a scientist. And as such I have been taught many many times that you should never just accept anything. (I.e. someone says, “The sky is blue.” You say, “Prove it.”) What you need to do is to make hypotheses. And then spend all of your time weighing pros and cons. Until you finally rule out all of them except one. This is what is commonly known as the “best answer”. It may be wrong. It may be right. But given all the evidence, it is what comes closest.
So let me describe to you what went through my head such that I now “get it”. And how I reached my final conclusion.
Hypothesis #1. The Bible is correct and Adam and Eve did it because they are weak and human and couldn’t resist the temptation of eternal knowledge.
This, I disregarded because it is the obvious answer. If med school (and House) has taught me anything it is that it is never the obvious answer (lupus). It is always some obscure thing that you would never think of and to which the evidence does not point at all.
Moving on.
Hypothesis #2. Brought to us by the author Chuck Palahniuk. Who said, “Did perpetual happiness in the Garden of Eden maybe get so boring that eating the apple was justified?” In short, our protagonists wanted to spice things up.
Unfortunately, there are a few holes in this argument. Namely that being perpetually happy and bored are mutually exclusive. It’s really an either/or situation. And thus, out went hypothesis #2.
Last but not least.
Hypothesis #3. The whole story is wrong. They didn’t actually eat the apple as is. What really went down. Was that Adam and Even found out about this apple strudel bread. And knew that they really could not go the rest of eternity without eating it. (Neither can you, by the way. Unless you want to live a depraved existence.)
So they got some yeast. Spent five minutes (a day) mixing up all the ingredients for the dough. Let it rise for two hours. Picked the apple. Chopped it up. Mixed it with some raisins and sugar and cinnamon (left out the walnuts). Rolled out the dough. Spread the filling on top. Shaped the loaf. Let it rise for 40 minutes. Preheated the oven to 350. Then baked for 50 minutes.
Cut off a slice.
And bit into it.
Realizing, as they chewed, that God may have gotten it wrong. Eden was nice. But this bread? This bread was basically eternal bliss. In a bite. Especially when covered in peanut butter.
Moral of the story? Go out. Buy Healthy Bread In Five Minutes a Day. And make this bread. You won’t be sorry.
Check out Michelle’s blog on the first to see how everyone else’s turned out!
This has been yeastspotted!
Say it with me.
“An apple a day keeps the doc-“
Ha. Not this doctor. (To be. You are not a doctor yet, missy. Doctor. To. Be. Speaking of which, the test was fine. I definitely know I made a few stupid mistakes but it would be impossible not to on any three hour long test. Rather than obsess about the ones I may have gotten wrong, however, I’ve decided to take the glass half full approach. And think about the myriad of times I could have put down the wrong answer. But didn’t. That’s what I plan to do in the OR. Congratulate myself every time I don’t mistakenly cut out someone’s liver. And just selectively forget about the times I do.)
Sounds cliche, really. But I do in fact eat an apple a day. Approximately.
Of course, there are some days when I don’t eat any. Note – these days are commonly referred to as bad days.
But then again, there are also some days when I eat two. Even three apples. (Best. Days. Ever.)
Yes, I let my happiness and mental well-being hinge upon the availability of a piece of fruit. But apples happen to be the second most popular fruit in the US (oranges are first). So just fess up. You do it too.
To recap.
We have bad days. And best days ever.
And there are also the days when, not only do I get to eat my apple raw. Straight up. As is.
But I also get to have them in dessert form. Apple pie. Apple crisp. Apple streusel. Apple crumb cake. Caramel apples. Apple blondies with brown sugar frosting.
These days? Transcend words. No superlative exists yet in the English language to accurately describe them.
Have no fear though. I have a conference call later today with Webster and Oxford. We’re working on it. 
I made these apple blondies for my friend Ari’s birthday. He is as much of an apple fiend as I am. Possibly more so. You can’t even mention the word apple around him without his eyes glazing over. And then more often than not he’ll begin to wax poetic about all of the different varieties of apples out there and how there is really no such thing as a bad apple. Apparently, they are all unique. And delicious. In their own way.
I, on the other hand, beg to differ. I’m not such a fan of McIntoshes. Or Cortlands.
I like my apples super crisp.
Golden delicious. Fuji. Granny Smith. And Ambrosia. Those are where it’s at.
My intense love of apples aside, these blondies were really delicious. Even if you’re not an apple fanatic. (Sophie had three. In one day. A fact that she happily bragged to me as we were brushing our teeth the night that I made them.)
And the brown sugar frosting? Perfect. Really and truly perfect.
Apple Blondies with Brown Sugar Frosting
Makes 24, adapted from Cooking the Books
Blondies:
2/3 cup butter, softened
2 cups brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
Pinch salt
1 cup peeled chopped apples
Now for the announcement.
As many of you know, I have been an avid participant in an event called Regional Recipes, formerly hosted over at Blazing Hot Wok. The premise is that we pick a different country or geographical region every month and cook a recipe indigent to that area. A round-up is then posted of all the entries and a new country is picked for the next month. Ever and anon.
The beauty of this – we get to take a culinary tour of the world. All from the comfort of our own homes. Talk about saving money on airfare!
However, all good things must come to an end. Or, if they don’t end, at least change. Darlene feels as if she doesn’t have enough time to host the event anymore. And so she has passed on the torch. To yours truly.
That is right! From here on out, Eats Well With Others will be the home to Regional Recipes!! Our first stop is going to be the Middle East, so if you want to participate, please send your entries to [email protected] along with a picture, your name, blog URL, and the URL of the post by February 28th.
I will eventually create my own page for the event but until I do, please check here for all the rules and regulations. Or email me if you have any questions. I can’t wait to see all of your entries!
Some 22 years olds living in New York City. Like to go out on Friday or Saturday nights. Sometimes both, if they have a particularly strong liver. And/or a particularly full bank account.
I used to be one of those 22 year olds.
Not anymore.
I don’t want to sound chauvinistic or arrogant or anything. But I’ve got better things to do. Such as frequent the VIP room in one of the city’s most exclusive night clubs.
It’s a small place. Up-and-coming, if you will. You probably haven’t heard of it. But lucky for me, it’s only just across the street. So while everyone else is spending hours getting ready, primping, doing their make-up, pregaming, and then bundling up to brave the New York City winter. I get to just throw on my scrubs and head out the door.
Hold on.
Wait a minute.
Scrubs?
Oh yes. You read correctly.
Because this “night club” is none other than the Weill Cornell Medical School Anatomy lab. No one would have ever guessed it, but with our first test being Monday (today), anatomy lab was apparently the place to be on Friday and Saturday night.
If you could have seen us all trekking over in one huge mass of sea green. You would have been absolutely certain that something fantastic was going down. A free concert, maybe. With free food. (There is nothing that medical students love more than free food. Unless it’s pizza from La Famiglia’s, which is possibly the worst pizza chain in this city. I wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole. Even if you paid me.)
But no. There was no incentive. Other than self motivation. And peer pressure. All the cool kids were doing it.
And so even though it is really entirely uncharacteristic of me. I spent my weekend studying.
If you need to know which nerve innervates which muscle in your back, axilla, arm, forearm, or hand? I can tell you.
Or if you have any desire to find out where these muscles attach or insert? Done. And done.
Plus I also know a little bit about placenta and limb bud formation. How that fits in with all this anatomy business, I’m not quite sure. But my professors thought they would throw it on the test. For kicks.
Even really dedicated medical students, such as myself (okay you can all laugh now), however, need to take study breaks. They’re good for the soul. And your sanity.
We also need to eat. Which is where this meal came in. This recipe for keftedes was the second recipe that the Symon Sundays group was scheduled to make this week. I was particularly excited about it because it has you mix cinnamon. Into the meat. Along with nutmeg. Intriguing? Yes. Delicious? Yes.
This Michael Symon dude really knows what he’s doing.
He may be my new best friend.
And then because keftedes are essentially meatballs? I had to make some pasta to go along with them. Stay true to my Italian roots. I wouldn’t want to be excommunicated or anything like that.
Plus when I came across this recipe for cinnamon-scented tomato sauce. It kind of sealed the deal. And let me tell you. You haven’t had tomato sauce. Until you’ve had this tomato sauce. It was absolutely amazing. A sensory revelation.
Try it. Now.
Keftedes
Serves 4, adapted from Symon’s Live To Cook
1/2 cup onion, minced
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 cup day-old bread, cubed
1/2 cup milk
1 lb ground lamb or beef (I chose lamb)
1 egg
1 tsp oregano
1/4 tsp coriander
1/4 tsp cumin
1/8 tsp cinnamon
pinch of nutmeg
1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. (Okay, so Symon says to fry these. But I baked them. I knew he would be angry. But I did it anyway.)
2. Heat 2 tsp canola oil. And the onion and a three-finger pinch of salt and cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Toss in garlic and cook 2 or three minutes. Scrape into a bowl and let cool.
3. Put the bread in a small bowl and pour in the milk.
4. Combine the onion and garlic mixture with the meat. Add the egg. Squeeze out the bread. Discard the milk. Add the bread, cumin, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg to the mixture along with a 1 tsp of freshly ground black pepper. Mix. With your hands. It’s the real reason why I make meatballs.
5. Form the meat into 16-20 little balls. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake for 25 minutes, turning once.
Greek Cinnamon-Scented Tomato Sauce with Pasta
Serves 4 as a side, adapted from Belly of the Beest who got it from The Splendid Table
1 medium onion, chopped
1/3 cup parsley, chopped
1/2 can tomato paste
6 cloves garlic
3/4 tsp oregano
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 14 oz can diced tomatoes
1/2 lb pasta
1. Set up the water for the pasta.
2. Spray a pan with cooking spray. Saute the onion and parsley, along with some salt and pepper, until the onion is golden brown. Stir in the tomato paste, garlic, oregano, cinnamon, sugar, and red pepper flakes. Cook for 1 minute. Add in the white wine. Cook 1 minute.
3. Pour the tomatoes into the pan. Cook on high for 8 minutes or until thick. Taste for seasoning.
4. Cook the pasta.
5. Mix the two together. Top with keftedes and parsley.
This is my submission to this week’s Presto Pasta Nights which is being hosted by Chaya of Sweet and Savory!
Welcome to Eats Well With Others, where we take a vegetable-and-cupcake laden approach to life (always with a bit of laughter on the side)!
