Super sexy bachelorette corn salad

I am progressing as a human. I know this because this morning I ALMOST forgot to put on my underwear, but then I didn’t! Sure, I remembered after I had already put my shoes on, so then I had to slip them on over my shoes, which is a very awkward affair. But panties got put on. Plus there was no one around to witness it, except for maybe the people whose window aligns with mine across the street, one of whom I made awkward nude eye contact with when I was in my kitchen. Just in case you’re wondering, I was the nude. He was on his cell phone. My kingdom to hear what he said to the person on the other line when he saw the weird girl from across the street putting away her dishes in the buff.

I also figured out how to roast corn when you’re lacking a grill. Well, I didn’t exactly figure it out. I’ve seen this done before with pitas and naan and similar bread-type things, and I didn’t see any reason you couldn’t do it with corn. It requires a bit of heat-desensitizing (or asbestos-hands, as i like to call it), or a skewer or something, and those little corn hairs are FLAMMABLE. But it really works, and god knows I love a good shortcut and/or macguyver. Which is why I don’t own: a double boiler (pot+glass bowl), an avocado cutter (really? it’s called a knife. any knife), a lint roller (masking tape!), or an iron (laziness. i actually do need an iron. a heavy book does not work).

This corn salad was inspired by a similar one at a fancy gourmet grocery store. It was made for my sister’s bachelorette party weekend, which we spent in a beach house on the north coast of California, drinking wine, playing board games, sitting in the hot tub, and eating. I was sure I was going to get a picture of the final product, but instead I downed a bottle of merlot and basted myself in hot water. Sorry! Too much delicious corn salad and sweet potato enchiladas. I was tempted to make penis-pasta-salad, but -amirightladies- who wants to put those in their mouth without promise for reciprocation?????

Aw, one step forward, two steps back. Like how I successfully flirted with work crush the other day, but then today I turned red and silent when he said my name. Sigh.

Roasted corn salad

4 ears corn, roasted & de-cobbed
1/2 cucumber, chopped small
1 bell pepper, diced
1 red onion, chopped small
2 heirloom tomatoes, diced
handful of cilantro, chopped roughly
oil & red wine vinegar
salt & pepper
red pepper flakes to taste cuz you hot!

Roast the corn on the grill or over an open flame. Let cool and use a sharp knife to cut the kernels off the cob. Chop up some onion, cucumber, bell pepper, heirloom tomatoes, and cilantro. And whatever else! Parsley? Jalapeno? Other stuff I don’t even know about?! Do it! Oil, vinegar, salt, pepper, pepper flakes to taste. Tastes best after it has marinated in its own juices for a few hours.

El Oh El Ehhhh

Yesterday in the microkitchen at work I was holding my salad bowl, coffee tumbler, and water glass. I was dancing the delicate dance of trying to dispose of my compostibles in the compost bin, return the salad bowl to the bus tray, and not spill my water or my now-cold-gross-old-morning-leftover-coffee. Needless to say I spilled gross cold coffee on the ground. And, as these things go, there was a dude in there. A not-unattractive dude. A dude I’ve Seen Around the office. Anyway, he had his back turned, but when I squealed as the coffee spilled he turns and goes….I’m sorry, did I make you do that?

I mean, how do I even answer that question? Short answer: no, you didn’t make me do this, mildly attractive coworker. I did this to myself. Long answer? You’re decent looking and you are approximately 6ft tall and I’ve witnessed some interactions of yours and you seem like a very kind yet confident fellow. You existed in the same space as I did for all of 2 minutes and that elevated my heart rate ever so slightly. So yeah, my task at hand didn’t have my complete focus. Part of my brain may or may not have been thinking about what you might look like in just boxers. Maybe in just boxers and also you’ve just fixed me a breakfast sandwich. I’m sorry, I can’t help myself! So yes, mildly attractive, not-overly confident, considerate coworker. Yes you made me do this.

Then, a mere 3 minutes later, after I sat down at my desk and wrote a note on my hand to remember to bring checks to my sister’s house, I wiped that very hand across my mouth after a particularly juicy apple bite. I look over at my buddy S and he goes, dude. You been making out with a smurf? And I was like…whatsies? He was like…blue pen. All over your mouth.

Some days you feel like a mess, some days you don’t (allegedly). To tie this to the recipe (extremely loooosely): These cookies are a mess of toasted coconut and pecans, oats, and all sorts of shit. They are called Chunky Lolas, which is a solid cookie name, despite being a somewhat unfortunate nickname for any human female. It’s like that time I had to take iron supplements called Slow-Fe and we all agreed that we could never name our daughters Sofie, because what if one day she ran track (which may or may not be forced upon her), and what if she’s on a team and there are 2 Sofies, and she’s the slower of the two, and all the mean girls call her Slow-fie? WHAT IF THAT HAPPENS, INTERNET????

Chunky Lola Cookies
adapted from Flour
makes 18-20 cookies

1 stick + 3 Tbsp of unsalted butter
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup light brown sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
2/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick cooking)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
9 ounces bittersweet chocolate chopped into 1/2-inch pieces
1 1/4 cups pecan halves, toasted and chopped
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut

Using a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar on medium speed for about 5 minutes, or until the mixture is light and fluffy. (This step wil take about 10 minutes if using a handheld mixer or spoon.) Stop the mixer a few times and use a rubber spatula to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl and the paddle to release any clinging butter or sugar. Beat in the eggs and vanilla on medium speed for 2 to 3 minutes, or until thoroughly combined. Scrape the bowl and the paddle again to make sure the eggs are thoroughly incorporated.

In a medium bowl, stir together the flour, oats, baking soda and salt. Add the chocolate, pecans, and coconut and toss to combine. On low speed (or with the wooden spoon), slowly add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and then mix just until the flour mixture is totally incorporated and the dough is evenly mixed.

For the best results, scrape the dough into an airtight container and let it rest in the refrigerator overnight (or for at least 3 to 4 hours) before baking. When ready to bake, position a rack in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 350ºF.

Drop the dough in ¼-cup balls onto a baking sheet, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Flatten each ball slightly with the palm of your hand.

Bake for 20 minutes, or until the cookies are golden brown on the edges and slightly soft in the center. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet on a wire rack for 15 minutes, or until they are cool enough to remove with a spatula. Then transfer the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely, or enjoy them warm.

The cookies can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 2 days. The unbaked dough can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

Why is no one impressed with all the cookies I’ve made

I had a conversation the other day with a friend about how much I hate ambitious people. This particular person was on my side, despite the fact that he had just finished telling me about how he was going to start working 7 days a week to support his full-time unpaid social justice internship (aaaagh!!!). Anyway, we made some solid points about how frustrating it is to be friends with successful people. For instance, I baked 266 cookies the other weekend with my sister. I felt pretty good about this accomplishment until I talked to my friend L about how she finished her fucking thesis for Harvard grad school. Maaan. STOP IT. Let me have my cookies! Everyone stop being so AWESOME and passionate all the time. It is EXHAUSTING.

But, like I said, so is baking 266 cookies, in some way. It’s a lot of baking! Which could feel like an accomplishment, unless you like…are a doctor, are a nonprofit lawyer, are making serious headway in cancer research, or are like doing legitimate things to repair education in this country, WHICH ALL OF MY STUPID FRIENDS JUST HAPPEN TO BE DOING. Then, you know, the baking of cookies becomes somewhat of a trivial pursuit.

Speaking of which (this is a masterful transition), I went to a singles board game night the other night. Yep. Went there. I don’t know what I was expecting, but some tall dark and handsome man did not keep up with me in taboo and then ask for my number. But do you see how I’m trying? I’m like, totally putting myself out there. Dear unknown men of the world: I have not made any headway in solving the world’s water crisis, nor have I accomplished anything of note since graduating college, but! BUT! People usually want me on their pictionary team. Unless they’re bad, because then they know I’ll just get mad at them and say things I don’t mean (slash do mean). So just to sum up: unambitious about meaningful things, obnoxiously ambitious in any game-type situation. Awesome work developing your character, Kat. Also: talks to herself.

Oh yeah, and I bake cookies. Specifically, these ones. They are good but I’m not in love with them, maybe because we skipped the chocolate (at the request of the receiver of said cookies). Also they’re a bit dry. I like a chewier ginger cookie. Also they don’t cure cancer or anything. So.

Ginger Cookies
from Super Natural Every Day

1/2 cup large-grain raw or turbinado sugar
6 ounces bittersweet 70% cacao dark chocolate
2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 tablespoons ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon fine grain sea salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter cut into small cubes
1/4 cup unsulphured blackstrap molasses
2/3 cup fine grain natural cane sugar
2 tablespoons peeled and grated fresh ginger
1 large egg, well beaten
1 cup plump dried apricots, finely chopped

Preheat the oven to 350, place racks in the top and bottom third of the oven. Line two baking sheets with unbleached parchment paper or a Silpat mat, and place the large-grain sugar in a small bowl. Set aside.
Finely chop the chocolate bar into 1/8-inch pieces, more like shavings really.
In a large bowl whisk together the flour, baking soda, ground ginger, and salt.
Heat the butter in a saucepan until it is just barely melted. Remove from heat and stir in the molasses, sugar, and fresh ginger. The mixture should be warm, but not hot at this point, if it is hot to the touch let it cool a bit. Whisk in the egg. Now pour this over the flour mixture, add apricots, and stir until just combined. Fold in the chocolate. Chill for 30 minutes, long enough for the dough to firm up a bit.
I like these cookies tiny, barely bite-sized, so I scoop out the dough in exact, level tablespoons. I then tear those pieces of dough in two before rolling each 1/2 tablespoon of dough into a ball shape. From there, grab a small handful of the big sugar you set aside earlier and roll each ball between your palms to heavily coat the outside of each dough ball. Place dough a few inches apart on prepared baking sheets. Bake for 7-10 minutes or until cookies puff up, darken a bit, and get quite fragrant. (In my oven, 8 minutes is just perfect.)
Makes roughly 4 dozen.
Prep time: 30 min – Cook time: 10 min

A little too saucy.

Too bad they don’t let you insert videos for post titles, because the title of this post would be the entirety of this Curb Your Enthusiasm exchange:

There is this foodie (hate that word, by the way) ethos of not saucing your pasta too much. It’s how the eye-talians prefer it. Al dente and LIGHTLY COATED. I don’t know. I get that. But sauce is so good. Especially good sauce. That you make yourself. In your new pot.

So I won’t judge you if you drown your pasta in homemade tomato sauce. Foodies are dumb anyway. What does it even mean to be a foodie? Ok, I just looked up the definition: a person devoted to refined sensuous enjoyment. Ah, there it is. Refined. I knew I wasn’t part of that club. Can I confess to you? Sometimes, when I don’t have sauce on hand and I don’t feel like making sauce, I cook up some pasta and eat it with ketchup and parmesan cheese. Disgusting!!! I know!!!! I’m the worst. But also? It’s kinda good. Because you know the thing about food? A lot of it is good. Most of it, in fact. I think we need to come up with a new term for people who are just normal people who like to eat and like to cook and enjoy learning about food and appreciate good food but also sometimes eat Taco Bell when it so pleases them. Equal opportunity food lovers. But some shorter term. Food sluts? Yeah. There it is. That feels right. I’m just a food slut, you guys! A saucy saucy food slut.

And you know what? I feel pretty fucking good about that. Pretttttty prettttty pretttttty pretty good.

You-Can-Do-It Tomato Sauce

1 onion, diced
olive oil (tbsp-ish)
1 tbsp tomato paste
3 cloves garlic, minced
some wine maybe? like a splashy splash? also here’s where you drink some too
2 tbsp brown sugar
1 32-oz can whole tomatoes
1/4 cup basil leaves, chiffonaded (sliced real thin)
salt & pepper to taste

Ok friends. Here goes. Warm up some olive oil in a big pot over medium heat. Add the onions and let those babies sweat for a while. When they start to brown (like 10-15) minutes, add some salt. Stir, then add your tomato paste and stir to evenly distribute. Add the garlic and stir another minute. Then splash in some wine (i’ve used white, i’ve used red, i’ve used vinegar…whatever) to deglaze the bottom (get the delicious brown pieces up). Add the sugar and stir to dissolve. Then, grab your whole tomatoes. I like to fish them out of the can with my hand and squish them into the pot. You can chop them, but that is boring. Basically just get em all in there sorta broken up, and pour in the juice too. Let it simmer a while, like 10 minutes, then add the basil. Stir and simmer until it’s the right consistency. Salt and pepper to taste. Then drown some overcooked pasta in it. Holleerrrrr.

Heirloomz

These tomatoes are almost exactly all the colors that I debated painting my nails today. (Dark green won)

I get that a lot of people don’t like tomatoes, but I also get that a lot of people don’t TRY to like tomatoes. They eat out-of-season romas from their shitty grocery store and think they have exhausted the world of the tomato. Because I live in San Francisco and I’m a fucking snob, it takes no more effort for me to walk the 5 blocks to my local farmer’s market on Saturdays than walk the 6 blocks to the local Whole Foods (in my Toms shoes carrying my reusable shopping bags I knowwwwww I know I am so SMUG. But come on. I live under constant threat of earthquake and also we don’t have “summer” so give us our superiority complex, thanks.). What was I saying? Oh yeah, I picked up some tomatoes at the market today, suckers!

And god damn, are those not some beautiful tomatoes? I bought them in the morning not realizing I’d not make it back to my apt until about 7 hours later, so they accompanied to the running shoe store, dolores park, the ice cream parlor, a house warming party, and the nail salon. And when I got in, I ate an ice cream sandwich and contemplated what to do with my tomato companions. They are like, really fucking tasty, my friends.

I debated just eating them like apples, sprinkled with a bit of salt and pepper. But that seemed too easy. Then I discovered the butt end of some lovely bread in my freezer, and I remembered I had an almost-bad cucumber in my fridge, and some also on-the-edge ricotta cheese. The panzanella came together quickly despite a brief time-out to deal with the repercussions of my very first new-chef’s-knife bodily slice! God, do you have any idea how sharp those things are? Sharp enough to cut a very-ripe tomato without squishing it at all, and ALSO sharp enough to slice the top of my hand down to the tendon with zero warning.

I would show you the initial band-aid I immediately bled through, followed by a paper towel contraption that seemed to do well in tandem with a second band-aid, but I hear it’s not cool to showcase blood on a food blog. It made me miss my mother. Not because I wanted her to take care of my cut or because it was her birthday this week (and my dad’s, happy birthday parentsss!!!!!), but because whenever I have a cut that bleeds a lot I think of her response to nearly all of our childhood shenanigans that resulted in injury. I think once I slammed my head into a piece of playground equipment and was bleeding ALL OVER MYSELF. Like, I came to her sobbing, pretty sure I was going to die, and were those my brains in my hair?!?! And my mom kinda inspects me coolly and is like….Katrina, head wounds tend to bleed a lot even if they’re very superficial. You’ll be fine.

Hahaha. Superficial head wounds. Story of my life.

Heirloom Tomato Panzanella

3-4 heirloom tomatoes, chopped
1 cucumber, chopped
a few slices good bread, diced and toasted with oil or butter
a handful fresh basil, chiffonaded (or like, sliced real thin)
1 shallot, chopped
salt & pepper
olive oil & vinegar
1 tsp mustard (my favorite is Sierra Nevada porter dijon)
some fresh ricotta

Chop up the things that should be chopped, mix the things that should be mixed, and sprinkle the things that should be sprinkled.