guacamole boris karloff

On August 2, 2013October 26, 2013 By Emily KeithIn ephemera, fancypants, in the kitchen, libations, new to me, new to you, unsolicited adviceLeave a comment

Earlier this week the following recipe was tweeted, tumblred, messageboarded, mocked, revered, and discussed:

speaking to all mortals from beyond the grave

According to this unsourced and undated article Mr. Pratt had a fondness for the spice of life: the zip of chili, the slick of avocado. I kept my eye out for someone, anyone, who would build the monster and bring this recipe to life. I found one individual who stocked up on the ingredients but forgot the Sherry, he never reported back…

I’d like to welcome Boris Karloff to my food diary. Let’s do this right.

The brain you stole, Fritz. Think of it. The brain of a dead man waiting to live again in a body I made with my own hands!

The elephant in this recipe is Sherry, a white grape extraction. Fortified hooch. According to the modern internet very few of you know what Sherry is, you’ve never tried it and you are damn near horrified to see it listed among guacamole ingredients.

Have a heart. Sherry is delicious.

A bad Sherry (I won’t name names) is really sweet and sort of tastes like a caramel coated peanut shell. A decent Sherry tastes like almonds and cherry blossoms. I consider Hartley and Gibson’s Amontillado a decent Sherry. A GREAT Sherry (Valdespino) tastes like sunshine and marconas, like smiling at your true love in the middle of a crowded street in Seville.

I knew Boris was up to something really special with the Sherry inclusion.

two tablespoons of this glorious hue — this glorious hue

The brain which was stolen from my laboratory was a *criminal* brain.

Here’s what happens; the resulting “sauce” is super shiny, very lovely to behold. The Sherry brings out a pronounced nutty (think Macadamia) oily-ness from the avocado. I refuse to lie to you, the booze in this dish is evident on the palate…it’s a British recipe, what in the bloody hell do you want from me?

Yet there is a delicate balance to Boris’s creation that you will enjoy. Tastes like two feet in a split across time and culture. You have to try this for yourself.

I wasn’t content with dipping corn chips into this Guac. I felt overwhelmed with the desire to find a more noble application so I walked to Torres De Morelos on 31st & Powell, home of the best $1.50 tacos in Portland, and treated Boris’ special concoction to a dutifully spicy end.

(one lengua, one chorizo)
You have created a monster, and it will destroy you!

Up Next: I’m working on a long thing about what baseball and canned seafood have in common.

start with a rutabaga

On April 1, 2013April 1, 2013 By Emily KeithIn EK, in the kitchen, The In Season WeeklyLeave a comment

Every week I get a new copy of NYMag. No, not the refined New Yorker, I’m talking about the often lowbrow and super slick NYMag. There is always an “In Season” recipe in the ‘strategist‘ section that highlights seasonal vegetable recipes from who I assume are reputable authors /chefs of perhaps popular cookbooks/restaurants. I’ve subscribed to this weekly for the past 6 years and never made a single recipe.

Welcome to the awkward dystopian future wherein I will make, to OCD precision, the In Season recipe EVERY WEEK.

This project is an effort to return to my kitchen, I’ve been conspicuously absent from that special fourth room of my apartment. I made champagne jello shots in there at the beginning of the year, they were awful. More recently I discovered these great dehydrated packets of congee so I’ve boiled some water for those, once I cracked an egg into the mix for protein – living large! A few weeks ago I saw some crab cakes on sale and those seemed like a good idea so I put them in the oven and forgot about them. I sent the remnants to NASA because I burned those suckers so badly I think they formed a new space mineral.

This week the In Season recipe is from “Vegetable Literacy” by Deborah Madison. I know nothing about the book but it’d better be amazing because Ten Speed Press is asking $40.00 American Dollars per retail copy.

peel the rutabaga with a pairing knife until you have a glowing white orb before you.

(That’s my grandmother’s egg-timer next to my bamboo French pepper-mill which was a gift from my Dad. They are in most of the photographs from my kitchen because they are my prized possessions and I like how they look.)

sunflower seed oil, teaspoon of sea salt, tsp. of caraway seeds, tsp. of paprika — 2 tbs. sunflower seed oil, tsp. of sea salt, tsp. of caraway seeds, tsp. of paprika

I recently purchased those measuring spoons at anthropologie while verbally and audibly admonishing myself for doing so. They are ridiculous. I’ve wanted a set for years.

toss everything together and spread on a baking sheet

Bake at 400 degrees. The recipe doesn’t specify the time so I paced around and peeked in every 3 to 4 minutes which worked well because I actually can’t sit down due to some extremely rigorous barre3 “seat work” that Wise Woman and I subjected ourselves to yesterday. Pain and agony. See also: torture.

halfway there! push yourself! you have 8 more lifetimes of this move!!

plate, put a few glurps of katchup n a fetching tea vessel. enjoy hot. — plate, put a few glurps of ketchup in a fetching tea vessel. enjoy hot.

I ate an entire rutabaga for dinner. Enjoyed these immensely. I’m looking forward to my In Season Weekly Posts. In fact, I received last week’s NYMag today (which is ahead of schedule when your weekly is published in NY and shipped to you by a fulfillment corporation in Florida.)

How do you feel about a future involving Calliope’s Spicy Marinated Mackerel With Avocado? I feel really good about it.

hey hey lily day

On March 9, 2013March 10, 2013 By Emily KeithIn brunch, celebrations, i have really talented friends, libations, Portland2 Comments

I’ve blown a few endorphins in my life. Spent them on rich food, fine wine, great literature, George T. Stagg, playing my anger like an instrument, cheap tacos, being despondently and inconsolably sad, numerous days of solitude in the desert, Ancient Age, being blissfully and serenely happy, bad poetry.

like a pig in mud — like a pig in the mud

Last weekend I found a place to settle down with a superfriend who recently completed a 30-day cleanse (an anti-inflammatory diet which is restrictive of many foods, no caffeine, no sugar, no hooch). The sheer fact that she would choose to spend time with me during and after her trial is worthy of a medal in bravery and restraint.

The earth has angels all too few.And heaven is overflowing. — jumping off

Lily Day Cafe is sandwiched between Foster and Powell. It’s owned by the genius goddesses who once owned Dot’s Cafe, a darkened parlor of fries and Strongbow, the very best kind. Their new path is bright and well-curated; yardsticks lining the wainscoting, true tchotchke placed in cozy corners.

You don’t have to spend many endorphins at Lily Day, you can if you want to, but it’s okay to just chill out. The majority of the menu is based on sandwiches that are paired with a dip, or perhaps a dunk.

you've dialed my number, i 'm answering — you’ve dialed my number, i’m answering

Chorizo, cotija, as if my spirit was floating around the kitchen offering suggestions, there is corn in this. Life is a hollow room without corn in sandwiches. The dunk for this offering is a tomatillo green sauce. This is an off-menu sandwich, A Special, if you will.

Cleansed Colleen ordered, in addition to the pear puree-raspberry liquer-cava cocktail pictured up-post:

baked eggs, bacon, goat cheese, blueberry yogurt dunk, giant orange slice

On the subject of how and where to spend your endorphins, just look at this adorable cocktail menu. Lily Day has something precious to say:

grape fizz — don’t stay underground too long

So gosh darn cute. I tried the Spirited Coffee which balanced like an expert aerial yoga instructor.

Maybe you’ve noticed a recent trend in posts featuring raving accolades for my friends. You are well read and perceptive. Colleen is endlessly giving, supportive and encouraging. She will blast Cat Power with you, she will stroke your hair while you sob. Colleen is a lady who holds you close. Her beauty is rivaled only by the gale-force of her kindness. If you have any questions about healing or health, herbs or honesty, she gives outstanding advice on all subjects – a professional massage therapist and holistic guide who can school you on all aspects of endorphin expenditure. You can find her services here, or in Lily Day Cafe most Saturday afternoons.