Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
They say print media is dying. And while it is true that we don’t subscribe to The Los Angeles Times, TD and I have had the pink-plastic wrapped Wall Street Journal delivered for years. TD, the excellent news consumer that he is, reads it every morning cover to news-printy cover. Me? Not so much. But, I do enjoy their weekend editions and have, surprisingly, found the WSJ to be a source of some excellent recipes. This is one of them.
Spicy …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
My mom has a thing for bees. More specifically, botanical bees. For this reason, I am always on the hunt for cool botanical bee things. Tea towels, serving dishes, craft punches, I’ve found them all over the year and often given them as Mother’s Day gifts.
You know what else my mom also likes? Cocktails. Who knows why, but one of my earliest memories involves camping in the summer and the adults sitting around a newly-lit fire in camp chairs, as …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
I have made no secret of my love for sandy, crumbly cookies. Sables, sandies and shortbreads all tickle my fancy as an enjoyer of baked goods, if not as a baker. I am always on the hunt for the perfect shortbread recipe and constantly in awe that something with so few ingredients can prove so elusive (though I suspect it is because of the simple ingredients).
So of course, I had to try the one included in Bouchon Bakery (I really …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
“Oh rhubarb!” is one of TD’s favorite four-letter-word replacement idioms. Though, in order for it to have full effect (at least according to TD), it must be exclaimed using a high Ms. Doubtfire falsetto as such: “oooooooh rhuuuubaaaaaarb.”
I haven’t worked with rhubarb very much and even more rarely have I seen it divorced from its almost constant mate, the strawberry. So, this recipe for rhubarb bars in Thomas Keller’s Bouchon Bakery cookbook piqued my interest.
Fair warning–this recipe isn’t a whip …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
I began looking for them in January. Every trip to the market I’d cruise through the citrus section on the hunt for the smallish sunset-colored fruit.
It wasn’t until Valentines Day that I first spotted some in a high-end grocery store. I paid a king’s ransom for half a dozen. And then we promptly ate them.
A couple of weeks later they began to appear in the farmer’s markets. I bought another bag. We ate that one too.
It wasn’t until a couple …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
Here’s how it went down.
Committees are a necessity of working in higher education. It’s how we roll. There are weeks when I spend more time in committee meetings than in my office. I know the same is true for my colleagues. So, for the committees I chair, I try to bring something good to eat when we meet. Most of my committees are small; a dozen cookies or a loaf cake more than do the job. But, if everyone shows …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
During the few months in-between finishing undergraduate and beginning graduate school, I lived a double life. By day I worked at a Jewish pre-school in Century City (my Bruin Woods experience gave me entree into a world where I had neither the educational or religious background). By evening I was a cocktail waitress at Lawry’s the Prime Rib in Beverly Hills. For someone like me, a budding sociologist and generally nosy person, Lawry’s was a ridiculously fascinating place to work. …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
About a year or so I go I began to notice a new dessert item on restaurant menus: butterscotch pudding. This surprised me because I’ve always associated butterscotch with, well, the sunset dining crew. The appearance of this humble item was intriguing , but not enough so to get me to order it.
Then I began to wonder–what exactly is butterscotch? Thus far, I’d only experienced it as the ocher colored hard candies “those” people gave out at Halloween. Turns …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
It’s March my friends. And that means St. Patrick’s Day. And that means beer. And Irish names.
A couple of years ago I shared my favorite chocolate cake recipe. If you’ve been playing along at home, you’ll recall that its secret ingredient is a can of stout beer. I’m ashamed to admit it has taken me this long to extrapolate the wonders of dark beer and chocolate to brownies. That’s right, beer. And brownies.
The good news is that the lightbulb …
Posted by the Misanthropic Hostess.
As I mentioned a couple of posts ago, I was gifted Thomas Keller and Sebastien Rouxel’s Bouchon Bakery cookbook at the holidays. After spending several days greedily consuming every page of the hefty tome, I emerged with one question: where to start? Ever the opportunist, my answer came in the form of shopping. Specifically, the chance to finally purchase a madeleine pan.
To be honest, while I’ve long wanted to make them, I’d actually eaten a madeleine before I headed off …