Keeeeeeeeeeeeeenwah.

Oh YIKES y’all. I took some truly awful photos of this dinner. Partially it’s because I am still using my very-much-despised droid phone to take my photos, and partially it’s because I was practicing the Julia Child method of cooking (stir, swig, stir, swig). Yeah, that’s right. Got all nice and wined up and then cooked some quinoa. Just trying to fit in here in San Francisco, and do we ever love our quinoa out here. And god help you if you think it’s pronounced “kwin-oh-ah.” It’s keeeeeeenwah, m’f'er. These cakes, from this amazing cookbook I bought, are so much more amazing than is expressed via my shitty picture taking. Please don’t be deterred from trying them because of my ineptitude.

I’ve been wanting to make these cakes ever since I saw them featured in some other blog with AN EGG ON IT. Things that have eggs on them are the best things. Pizza with an egg on it, pancakes with an egg on it, hamburgers with an egg on it, salad with an egg on it, bibimbap with an egg on it!!! All of these things are great and good. I made these with the help of my future sister K (my bro’s fiancee) and our mutual friend from high school, T; and then I took a really awesome picture of them resting on some paper towels. Photography!!!!

K and T were visiting from New York, so we decided to have a floor picnic in my new apt with my old roommates. I miss my old roommates!! My new roommates include: my radio that I sometimes talk to, my plant Skeeter that I sometimes talk to, and 4 stuffed animals from IKEA that live under my bed (that I have yet to talk to, but give me time). They rarely pitch in with the cleaning, but they don’t mind when I come home, disrobe, drink most of (read: all of) a bottle of wine and fall asleep with my computer on my chest watching Parks and Recreation on my pullout couch because I am too lazy to climb up to my bed.

So that’s nice of them. As you can tell, living alone realllllllly suits me.

Little Quinoa Patties
from Super Natural Every Day

2 1/2 cups/12 oz/340 g cooked quinoa, at room temperature
4 large eggs, beaten
1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1/3 cup/.5 oz /15 g finely chopped fresh chives
1 yellow or white onion, finely chopped
1/3 cup/.5 oz/15 g freshly grated Parmesan or Gruyère cheese
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 cup/3.5 oz /100 g whole grain bread crumbs, plus more if needed
Water, if needed
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil or clarified butter

Combine the quinoa, eggs, and salt in a medium bowl. Stir in the chives, onion, cheese, and garlic. Add the bread crumbs, stir, and let sit for a few minutes so the crumbs can absorb some of the moisture. At this point, you should have a mixture you can easily form into twelve 1-inch/2.5cm thick patties. I err on the very moist side because it makes for a not-overly-dry patty, but you can add more bread crumbs, a bit at a time, to firm up the mixture, if need be. Conversely, a bit more beaten egg or water can be used to moisten the mixture.

Heat the oil in a large, heavy skillet over medium-low heat, add 6 patties, if they’ll fit with some room between each, cover, and cook for 7 to 10 minutes, until the bottoms are deeply browned. Turn up the heat if there is no browning after 10 minutes and continue to cook until the patties are browned. Carefully flip the patties with a spatula and cook the second sides for 7 minutes, or until golden. Remove from the skillet and cool on a wire rack while you cook the remaining patties. Alternatively, the quinoa mixture keeps nicely in the refrigerator for a few days; you can cook patties to order, if you prefer.

To cook quinoa: Combine 2 cups/12 oz/340 g of well-rinsed uncooked quinoa with 3 cups / 700 ml water and 1/2 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil, cover, decrease the heat, and simmer for 25 to 30 minutes, until the quinoa is tender and you can see the little quinoa curlicues.

Egg Sandwich Exploration, part VI

I have a crush on the cheese guy at Whole Foods. This is not altogether surprising, given that his job is to provide people with delicious cheese, and he has a beard, and he was wearing a plaid shirt, and he talked dairy with me a little bit flirtatiously (and how I loooove talkin’ dairy). I went in looking for a burrata, but it was $11, so I left with some farmer’s cheese and a red face because attractive men give me hives, awesome. I also bought 2 types of vinegar and 9 yogurts. Yes, nine. Yes, I live by myself. Take a gander in my fridge at this very moment and you’ll find: cheese, butter, 2 bottles of beer, mustard, pickles, eggs, and 7 yogurts (i know i said i bought 9, but it was just a pretty yogurty day, ok?). This is an upgrade from the first week I moved in when my fridge consisted of beer, mustard, and sausages. Apparently moving into my own place gave me license to turn into a frat guy. Yo, anyone up for some flip cup later, bras?

This egg sandwich was inspired by this one, mostly the tomato jam part, which actually turned more into roasted tomatoes that I squashed onto the cheese. I bought Newman’s Own balsamic vinegar and I’m a little bit disappointed in it, which means I should probably stop letting attractive men dictate my purchases (see: Paul Newman; also, that cheese guy).

Not that I’m complaining about the farmer’s cheese, it was pretty lovely. I did miss the burrata, but that’s to be expected. It’s hard to get excited about 200 threadcount sheets when you know 1000 threadcount sheets exist (wait, do they? i still buy my linens at ikea…).

Got the tomatoes and basil from the farmers market, along with 10 LBS OF STONEFRUIT because the farmer upsold me on it. He didn’t even have to try. I came to the register with 2.5 lbs of peaches and he was like, you know, we’re having a special, if you buy 10 lbs…and before he could finish I had piled 12 other assorted stonefruits onto his scale. “That was easy,” he said. And I almost said “that’s what he said,” but I didn’t, because occasionally I act like a normal human. OCCASIONALLY.

This bacon traveled with me from my last apt. It had been frozen and I took great care to make sure it made it to my new place. Priorities, ladies. Bacon first, then my plant, Skeeter, then all that other shit I own.

So right now I am sitting in my apt and my fire alarm is going off. Forever. Oh my god!!! I don’t know how to turn it off!!! I am upset at my inability to shut it off. I hate it. I want it to die. Why is it doing this to me? It just keeps saying “testing” and then various other TOO LOUD THINGS AND BEEPING AND OH GOD WHY. IT IS SAYING THERE IS CARBON MONOXIDE IN MY BASEMENT. How does it even know?! Then it says carbon monoxide reading: zero ppm. ALL THESE MIXED SIGNALS, FIRE ALARM.

Ok, so now I’ve pushed my dresser underneath my fire alarm. I am waiting for that son of a bitch to go off again and it is SILENT. GO OFF. I PUSHED THIS THING ALL THE WAY OVER HERE SO I COULD BE POISED TO PRESS ANY AND ALL BUTTONS ON YOU. And now? Nothing? No? Not even a little bleep? I swear to god, fire alarm. If you wake me tonight it’ll be a cold and deadly shoe to your face. TO YOUR FACE, FIRE ALARM. DO WE UNDERSTAND EACH OTHER?!? I am not leaving this dresser until you go off again. You went of 5 times. Why did you stop?! THIS IS ENTIRELY PERPLEXING. I DON’T ENJOY THIS.

Soo. As I sit here atop my dresser (i am seriously atop my dresser at this very moment), let’s just finish this post so we can all sleep/not sleep tonight. In regards to this sandwich, you’ll need:

Some tasty-ass bread (mine was Acme pain au levain)
an egg or two
cherry tomatoes, basil, salt, pepper, and balsamic (cut tomatoes in half, chop basil, combine all ingredients in a good ratio and roast in a 400 degree oven for 20ish minutes)
bacon
fresh cheese (farmer’s cheese’ll do, but if you’re a fancy person, you could stand to get some burrata)
salt & pepper

You can figure it out. I’m sorry, I have much louder things to deal with right now. And by louder I mean MORE SILENT NOW THAT I HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO TURN YOU OFF, YOU SON OF A BITCH FIRE ALARM.

Let there be twinkly lights

Ok, first of all, I need my camera back. I left it in NY and I shouldn’t have. But I bought this smart phone and I figured it would suffice. It doesn’t suffice. It hasn’t been sufficing. Suffice it to say! I need my camera, because these pictures look get-toe. Not that I’m one for positioning and lighting and expert photos with carefully placed cherries, as if it’s just always like that when I cook…cherries strewn about my adorable aged wooden countertop, and mint leaves delicately lying in poofs of whipped cream and just one bite taken out of the cake but some crumbs artfully trailing to the fine silver fork and also a doily or a folded and patterned dish towel under everything and there aren’t any random knives and garbage and whatever else goes on when you ACTUALLY make something. God, I just got riled up about food blog pictures all of a sudden. Ok so I’m not a Placer and a Prettifier, but come on. This isn’t even amateur hour. This is dilettante half-hour. This is embarrassing!

I mean, I do try to keeps it reals on this here blog. Below you will see a picture of my new favorite bowl (from the cracked/broken section at Heath Ceramics!), and all the things I had to take out of the bowl in order to eat dinner tonight. Because, hi, I’m 28, and I don’t have a bowl that is separate for fruits and avocados. It is the same bowl as the only bowl that is big enough to hold all my kale. The champagne, incidentally, was not in the bowl. The champagne just sits there, waiting for a reason to celebrate. If you’ve watched the movie Sideways, you know that the moral here is Every Day Is A Reason To Celebrate, Especially Those Days On Which You Haven’t Acted Like A Douche Towards A Pretty Girl Who Ends Up Forgiving You Anyway, Assumably. But, I am not one to take heed to moral lessons, so the champagne remains. The champain remagnes. Ha! Ha Ha! I’m such a card!

Oh but Y’ALL. Guess where I ATE this salad in this bowl-that-is-big-enough-for-this-kale-and-also-holds-my-lemons-and-avocados-during-its-off-hours?

IN MY NEW APT. Under some twinkly lights, because it’s my space and so I decided to decorate it as if I was 16 again. Also, you will note that the couch doubles as a dining room table. Listen, there is not a whole lot of space in my new apt (see: lofted bed whose ceiling clearance might make it impossible for me to ever get laid ever again, which is officially becoming my excuse if that remains the case for the next…undisclosed period of time) so lots of things double as other things. My kitchen, for example, is also my bike room! My living room doubles as the place I pile my mail up because I don’t ever want to sort through it. I’m an adult!

Whatever, I have my own apt and it has a DECK and a working kitchen and a bathroom with a crazy-ass mosaic mirror in it. But it’s mine. And I don’t have to share it with anyone!!! Ok, fine, Jesse Eisenberg, you’re welcome to share it with me. But I call top bunk! That means couch, Eisenberg.

Summer Kale Salad

1 bunch lacinato kale, chopped
1 tbsp +1 tsp olive oil, separated
1 clove garlic, chopped
1/4 tsp herbs de provence (or some other herbs, fresh if you’ve got em!)
2 summer squashes, sliced
1 tsp mustard
1/4 cup sunflower seeds, roasted
1/4 cup dried currants or cranberries
1/4 cup parmesano reggiano
salt & pepper to taste

Heat the tsp of oil in a large frying pan. Add the garlic and cook 30 sec, then add the squash and cook on med-high heat for about 5-7 minutes. Add the herbs and salt and pepper and stir to incorporate. Remove from heat. In a small bowl, whisk together the tbsp of olive oil with the mustard. Put the kale in a large bowl, and pour the mustard mixture over it. Mix in the sunflower seeds and currants. Add the squash and top with the cheese. Salt and pepper if she needs it!

Why I’m probably not going to be Mrs. Jesse Eisenberg

Guys. I blew my only chance with Jesse Eisenberg.

Anyone who knows me knows my profound love for all skinny, nerdy, anxious Jewish dudes. Seriously they are my achilles heel. The more nervous the better. And Jesse Eisenberg is like, King Skinny Nerdy Anxious Jewish dude. He came to my work to promote his new movie (with Aziz Ansari, WHO I ALSO LOVE and is hilarious). Obviously I spent the whole time projecting my idea of who Jesse Eisenberg should be onto him. In my mind, he thinks wayyy too much about everything, one of those real lives-inside-his-own-head types (which I inexplicably love). He reads a lot. He reads a lot and he’s smart and sometimes he can come off as a pretentious asshole, but he’s not. He’s just nervous, and sometimes he doesn’t know what to say, and it comes out wrong. He doesn’t waste most of his life on the internet, and his relationship with his parents is not amazing, but it’s pretty decent. He gets emotionally exhausted after playing a movie role and needs to spend some time flushing out the aspects of the character, but sometimes not all of it gets flushed out, and he carries around his characters with him, and that weighs him down in a way. But he’s self-aware, and he really tries to understand his own emotions and own his behaviors. Obviously he is into quirky blonde girls, and obviously he loves pie. This is what I was thinking about the entire time I was watching his interview.

Anyway, after work I’m sauntering downstairs to go bake pies, and Jesse is sitting on the couch in the lobby. By himself! I mean, his people are near him, but he’s just sitting there. And then he makes eye contact and SMILES at me. So obviously my reaction is to cock my head to the side and give him a strange look, like, what are you doing here Jesse Eisenberg? And he laughed at this ridiculous blonde girl giving him a strange look, and gives me a look back. And then I laugh and then he WAVES AT ME. And I WAVE BACK. Guys, JESSE EISENBERG SMILED AND WAVED AT ME.

And because I am a barely functioning human being, I then proceed to turn 8 shades of red and I RUN AWAY. I just run away from Jesse Eisenberg, who WAVED AT ME, and who is sitting, ALONE, on the couch, JUST WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO COME OVER AND CHAT WITH HIM A LITTLE BIT.

Internet, I hate myself! I am the worst. I blew it.

Now, obviously, from Jesse Eisenberg’s perspective, this scene unfolded thusly:

Hey, I’m just sitting here on the couch hoping no one will bother me. Oh wow there is a creepy blonde girl looking at me, maybe if I smile she’ll just continue on her way. What the…what is she doing? What is this strange look she is giving me? This might be the strangest human being I’ve ever come into contact with. I’ll just smile and wave and hope she doesn’t come over here. Ah, yeah, that seemed to work. Phew!

Or.

Hey, I’m Jesse Eisenberg sitting here on this couch, I smile and wave at everyone who walks by because I meet a lot of people and this way they feel some sort of connection to me and then want to go see my movies, uh oh this blonde one is giving me a weird look, ah well, she looks like one of those skinny-anxious-nerdy-jewish-guys lovers, let’s smile and wave, yup. Yup. Turned red and ran away. She’s a Jesse Eisenberg movie-goer for life.

But in my mind I’ll always have that moment when Jesse Eisenberg waved at me. And then my own awkwardness carried me out the door before I could even think of what I’d say.