Parisa

this is the window.

yum yum yum yum small melon seeds

I think these are some kind of funky marshmallow snack

here is a shelf

I have actually bought bags of seeds like this while I was in Germany. Don't judge.

another shelf

more shelves. this is the pickle shelf

DR OETKER PUDDING I lived on that stuff in Germany.

BULGARIAN CHEESE I swear that was such a happy moment

that small child is so happy about his chocolate

I brought five boxes of those wafers home from Bulgaria

I ate these on the sketchy train in Bulgaria. They are not as good as they look.

Evelyn wouldn't let me take a picture of her, so she sent me a good one.

Mina sent us to a grocery store called Parisa (named afther the owner’s daughter) to pick up all of the ingredients that we would need for our Iranian food. It was like Christmas. No joke. I found Bulgarian Cheese there. And Kinder Regel. And Dr. Oetker baking stuff. And all of this other amazing stuff.    

AND we met Evelyn. She is from the Philippines and taught us about Adobo. Apparently, adobo is the most common filipino dish. It will be my new challenge if I ever find time to not be studying for AP tests. She was a kick.

If the night with Mina and her family hadn’t been so amazing I probably would say that going to Parisa was the best part of my day but the day was just so good.

Iranian Food: Mina and Family

our dinner. get in my stomach.

om nom nom nom

dessert

A long, long while ago the family of one of my mother’s students came over to my house and taught us to make Iranian food. It was amaaazing. And tasty.

Reza, the student, told my mom that his mom, Mina, would be so excited to come over and teach us how to cook. We got the groceries and they brought the expertise. We ended up starting and because of that we ate pretty late that evening so they stayed and ate a second dinner with us. Together we made Adas Polo, a rice dish, and chicken. They brought an amazing rose flavored rice dessert and I made Iranian Salad ahead of time. It was probably one of my favorite meals of all time.

Reza and his family moved here from Iran when he was about ten and they go back often in the summers. He, although still in high school, composes and produces music. That is way cooler than anything I do. His mother studied and taught geography in Iran so we quizzed her as we were putting together the meal. His sister goes to the middle school that I went to and we had a great conversation about Divergent and John Green books. Overall it was a great evening.

Spring Break

Here is a picture of me concentrating really hard while rolling out pizza dough. That is all that I have. The food comes later.

Recently, Kentucky had begrudgingly welcomed spring. I say begrudgingly because it was in the thirties when I woke up this morning. It is not fun to go to bed with your windows open and a nice warm breeze wafting over your face and then wake up at four in the morning with an icy wind stabbing your face so hard that you dream that Elsa wants to kill you. That is not supposed to happen in spring. Spring is for new skirts, lemonade, flowers, and ice cream. And obviously pizza, but pizza is for always.

Right now I am stuck at home over spring break. This is the first spring break that I have spent actually looking forward for school to start. There are two reasons for that; 1) boredom, 2) our class trip to NYC leaves on Tuesday night so I will only be in school for two days after break and I am very excited. But I am trying to fight the boredom and live in the present, and also actually finally get some hours, so I have spent a lot of this break cooking. I know, I’ve shocked myself too. So much so, that after cooking for two days, I had to stop and binge watch Nikita on Netflix just to feel like myself again. Anywhoo, only a few of my friends stayed in town over this incessantly-long-and-at-the-same-time-short break. On Tuesday, Paige and Urvi came over to watch the long awaited return of the Mindy Project. (It was amazing. It was just so good.) The next day (that would be Wednesday) Paige returned, this time with Alyssa and Jessie and I made a fancy dinner where nothing turned out quite right. It was beautiful.

For the Mindy Project I decided to make the foods that I had seen most on that show; pizza and ice cream. I was also going to make cocktails but I very quickly realized that I didn’t know how to, nor did I care enough to try. That is a running theme in my life, because, so far, I have not cared enough to get my drivers license. Or exercise. I have learned that that is a horrible combination. A very, very bad one. You see, my dad teaches class on Tuesdays, and my mom is out of town over break so it was up to me to get my groceries for my meal. I woke up early, ate the chocolate croissant that my sister got for me from National Boulangerie, and then convinced her to go on a nice “lets welcome spring” bike ride to the Kroger. What I forgot was that our local Kroger is now closed because they are building an even bigger Kroger, so for the time being we have to go to another Kroger that is at least a 15 minute longer bike ride. 15 minutes too long. First, we got lost because evidently I do not know my middle school neighborhood like I thought I did. Then, while I was waiting for my sister to google maps the Kroger that we had both been to a dozen times, I started to feel dizzy. And queasy. And not so happy or springy. Let’s just say that I should exercise more. And bring water on bike rides. Or just learn to drive. I don’t remember much of shopping at Kroger because my out of shape mind has placed a haze over those few moments of my life. The chocolate croissant did not help. It was a very shameful experience. Also painful, and altogether unpleasant. After finally getting home and getting my face to return from the shade of undead pale that it had become, I made the pizza dough and started in on the ice cream. After making the ice cream I found out once again that yeast hates me, so I had to redo the pizza dough. The yeast took pity on me that time. It ended up being a great night--full of gossip (as always), ice cream, Mindy, and the new version of Footloose (that means Miles Teller).

The next night turned out to be somewhat similar except I got my dad to drive me to the Kroger so I didn’t have to relive the expiration incident. None of the food--ratatouille with chicken, creme brûlée, apple cake--turned out exactly the way they should have but it tasted fine so I was fine with it. Plus we had fun gossiping.

I would be truly confused if you read all this. But thank you if you did. Also I just realized that I don’t have any pictures of what I was just talking about. I guess I kinda suck at this. Oops.

Schweineöhrchen

From Dr. Oetkers Backen Macht Freude. Yes. Baking does bring joy. To my tummy.

Mine do not look as good. But I don't care because I have officially given up on my food being aesthetically pleasing.

That means pigs ears. This particular type of pastry is also known as elephant ears, or Palmiers. Ironically, absolutely no meat is used to make these. When I was in the sixth grade my lovely aunt took me to Paris. I did not deserve it because I slept in until noon everyday and acted like a grumpy old man. At least I picked up one part of French culture, I guess. I am sorry, that was rude. Anyways one day we left the city to go to the countryside where they had special cows and my aunt’s friend lived with his family. I was angry and sleepy because the early train ticket meant I had to wake up way earlier than midday. So Morton, the friend, stopped at the bakery and picked me up a pastry called “pigs ears”. (Do you see the connection now. Please say that you do.) I was too afraid to eat it because earlier in the trip I had been tricked into eating horse and I was not about to eat another odd part of an animal. So basically I looked even more spoiled. I guess you can say that talent comes easily to me.

So you can imagine how excited I was, when I found a recipe for pigs ears while flipping through Dr. Oetkers Baken Macht Freude cookbook. It is really easy to make and a wonderful way to freak out your friends or drink with coffee. Plus they seem springy to me. So because spring has sprung and I finally see some flowers outside, I present to you: Schweineöhrchen.

Ingredients:

• 1 package of puff pastry (Not filo dough. I recently learned that they are two different things. Also, Germans use this ingredient a lot. It was always present in my International Cooking class there.)
• 25 grams of butter (about two tablespoons)
• 50 grams of sugar (about 4 tablespoons)
• 1 package of Vanillin Zucker*

substitute: 1 tablespoon of sugar mixed with a couple drops of vanilla extract. I made this up but it seemed to work.

Directions:

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees
2. Follow the instructions on the puff pastry packaging. Basically leave it out for a couple hours or in the fridge overnight. Make sure it is not frozen when you start to use it.
3. Mix the two sugars together.
4. Lay out the puff pastry on wax paper.
5. Cover in the butter. Literally until you are grossed out that you are using too much butter.
6. Sprinkle the sugar on top.
   
7. Roll both of the sides together until they meet and it looks like a very long butterfly.
8. Cut into half inch little slices.
   
9. Put on baking paper and put that into the oven.
   
10. Eat a snack.

    

    Tortilla with eggs and squash. Just saying.

11. Bake for around 15 min. The recipe said to turn them over after 10 min, but I found this too difficult so I didn’t do it. Mine turned out fine. I’m not sure if they were in there for exactly 15 min, it was probably longer. Just wait until they look golden brown and like you would want to eat them.

    

    pretty

    

    bootifol

yum. eat it

Let them cool and then eat them with a fancy cup of coffee or what ever makes you feel European. Just not a cigarette because those kill you.

Irish Soda Bread

observe the bread

it's hiding but you can still see it

the one picture we took while baking. i hope you observe the copious amounts to alcohol

This wonderful bread substance has been my contribution to the St. Paddy’s effort every year. I like baking much more than cooking and substantially more than cooking meat so it is really all that is left. I have come to the conclusion that Irish Soda Bread tastes more like a really delicious scone than bread. So here is a recipe (and story) for scone bread. Enjoy.

Soda bread was not introduced into Ireland until the 1800. Some of the sources I have read say that the method of using baking soda or acid to leaven bread was introduced to the world by the Native Americans. Columbian exchange, anyone? Anybody? Nobody. The Irish were somewhat excited by this revelation because not only could they make good leavened bread, but they could make it without using an oven. They made it on a cast iron skillet over a fire. I did not use this method. Although both northern Ireland and southern Ireland adopted this “poor man’s bread,” they prepared it differently. In northern Ireland, the bread was flattened into a round disk and then cut into four triangles, and each was cooked on a griddle. In southern Ireland, it was made into a round shape and then a cross was drawn on the top to ward off the devil. It was eaten with butter as it obviously should be eaten.

Ok so here is the Irish-American version that we always make. Because as you and I have learned we apparently can never be truly Irish. I have, however, included a link for the traditional Irish Soda Bread recipe here.

Ingredients:

• 5 cups all purpose flour
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 ½ teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• ½ cup unsalted butter (a stick, you should know that) cut into cubes, room temperature
• 2 ½ cups of raisins
• 3 tablespoons caraway seeds
• 2 ½ cups buttermilk
• 1 large egg

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees (or you can try the skillet over a fire method and tell me how that goes)
2. Butter with a lot of butter a 10-12’’ oven proof skillet
3. Whisk the first five ingredients together in a bowl
4. Add the chunks of butter and then with your fingers make the dough crumble, I really hope you understand what I mean by that
5. Stir in raisins and caraway seeds
6. In a different bowl whisk the buttermilk and egg together and then pour this mixture into the dough
7. Stir this with a wooden spoon (I haven’t figured this reasoning out but it worked)
8. Put this dough into the skillet and then pound it a little and then cut an x into the center
9. Put it in the oven and hope that you did it right
10. Wait and hour and fifteen minutes
11. Now you are done. Eat it with butter.

This meat has surely been boiled

For one day a year we pretend to be Irish. I mean some of us are Irish all of the time, so they just act extra Irish on that day. Or the American version of Irish. You do this by: dressing in green, drinking all the alcohol, and eating corned beef.

Corned beef is a salt cured beef product. It’s corned beef because of the salt kernels. During WWI and WWI it became incredibly popular because it was rationed. During WWII most all of the corned beef was imported from Uruguay. Corned beef became industrialized during the British Industrial revolution and they sold it in cans like this. Yum yum. Corned beef production worsened the effects for the Irish to eat during the Potato Famine because most of their land was used to produce beef for the people of Britain, leaving little land to produce food for themselves. Most historians say that is was not until the huge wave of Irish immigration to the United States in the early 1900s that corned beef became associated with the Irish. Only in America and Canada is corned beef associated with St. Patrick’s day. WHAT?!? We are fakes. In Ireland they eat bacon and cabbage. That is odd because you would think those things would be switched.

So being the good Irish Americans that we truly are, we made corned beef with cabbage and carrots. Here is what we did.

Ingredients:

• 4 lb corned beef brisket
• 3 large carrots cut into large chunks
• 6 to 8 small onion
• 1 teaspoon dry English mustard
• large sprig of thyme and some parsley stalks (tie them together with string or...other)
• 1 cabbage
• salt and pep as my grandmother would say

Directions:

1. Put the brisket in a saucepan covered with carrots, onions, mustard, and the bonded herbs.
2. Cover with cold water and heat to a simmer that ish for 2 hours (make sure it is covered)
3. Get rid of those pesky outer leaves of the cabbage and then add them to the pot too
4. Cook for 1 to 2 hours more until the meat looks like how you want to eat it and then you can eat it
5. Serve cut into slices and with all of the veggies and stuff
6. yum. not irish

   

   
   

    
   To understand the reference in the title watch at 4:42. To watch an amazing movie start at the beginning. I am sharing with you a gem.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

This is before the hike. We did not look like this afterwards. Or at least I didn't.

The first stop on the way to our hike. I'm not really sure what mom is doing with Caroline's head.

 Lucy and Maggie collecting materials to make a fairy house.

I am lovingly stroking a tree evidently.

Rusty looking fine.

I have no explanation for my appearance. Apparently I did not get the "lets look cute" memo.

Alcohol. Scandalous.

My father looking ridiculous while making pancakes.

While it looks like I am attempting to strangle my mother, I am actually giving her a hug.

The coolest kids in the house. We take fashion to another level.

In the end it all comes down to food.

This was the first year that my wardrobe contained enough green to not be pinched on St. Paddy’s day. Usually, though, I can avoid pinching by making the Irish Soda Bread. It’s my contribution to our St. Paddy’s day tradition.

My mom’s side of the family is Irish. That means that half of me is allowed to say “Kiss me, I’m Irish,” and the other half has to wait for Oktoberfest to get any action. A couple of years ago when I was in sixth or seventh grade, my mom got a call from our cousin’s who were having a St. Paddy’s day party in Atlanta. Everyone was congregating at my cousin’s Nicole’s house, and evidently my mom was jealous because after that phone call she gave us ten minutes to pack, then we got in the car for the six hour drive and arrived just in time for the corned beef. Ever since then we have been rotating houses every year on St. Paddy’s day. (Three years ago everyone came to my house, allowing my friends to witness the magic. Apparently my cousin, Frank, who lives here in Lexington had a similar thought because he brought two of his friends. One of them was unfortunate enough to be seen as weak in the eyes of my somewhat merciless friends, and they chased him around the block until he cried. I, however, did not participate because I can not go on a high speed chase after eating so much corned beef.)

This year it was just us and Caroline and Noelle and their families. We decided to meet in the middle this time, because six hours or driving for a short weekend trip is somewhat draining I am told. Apparently, our middle is Robinsville, NC which one can only get to by taking a road called “Tail of the Dragon”. A road frequented by motorcyclists, it’s 318 turns in 11 miles in enough to make anyone swear off the barbeque chips and DQ blizzard they had had an hour before for good. The trip got better after that sickening ride, although the nausea did seem to stay with me for longer than I expected. We chilled in our motorcycle adorned cabin, hiked in the Smoky mountains, made beautiful breakfasts and a delicious Irish dinner in our cramped kitchen, played Cards Against Humanity near the fire pit, and ping pong and pool in a garage full of Chuck Norris posters.

Best food: Irish Soda Bread

Best laugh: During Cards Against Humanity--my sister is the judge--she pulls “How did I lose my virginity?” she chooses “the entire Mormon tabernacle choir.” I think that indicates something.

Best memory: When cousin Maggie went inside and made us all “You are cool” post it notes and I wore it on my head while I played pool.

Worst food/laugh/memory: When I accidentally poured buttermilk into my earl grey and drank my tea, thinking there was something terribly wrong with it, and understanding what it was when I saw the chunks at the bottom.