my eardrums won’t survive

I know what happens at five o’clock in houses all around the world.  Exhaustion.  Chaos.  Craziness.  Screaming.  Oh…is that just my house?  There is a lot of screaming at five o’clock at my house stainless steel travel tea mugs.

Kai has recently discovered a new octave.  And it’s a high one.  The kind that could shatter mirrors, send dogs howling, and drive me completely crazy Necklace online.

He gets particularly ‘screamy’ around dinner time, when he is over-tired and super cranky.  Which makes cooking and eating dinner a bit of a gong show.  Hopefully this phase won’t last too long…my eardrums won’t survive!

These cheesey-gooey-spicy-creamy stuffed pasta shells make dinner much more relaxing.  For very little effort, you are rewarded with a seriously delicious dinner Managed Security Service.

So good it actually {almost} drowns out the screams.

I had to do something

Going from the Dorista assignment list to the recipe itself  felt like something of a “bait and switch” – even though I knew already it probably would not involve a glass of champagne with a splash of fresh orange juice. Still, you can’t blame me for being just a little let down seeing as how I had just rushed home from work quite late with little time left to make these broiled leeks vinaigrette with mimosa and get posted.  A mimosa at the end of a busy day would have done me nicely thankyouverymuch Neogen Korea.
I’ve had several dishes plated with a heavy dusting of finely grated hard boiled egg yolks before (or both yolk and whites as is called for here) before but I didn’t realize that there was a fancy schmancy name for this treatment: mimosa. “Mimosa” in this context is an allusion to the Acacia dealbata which is a bright orange flower which evidently is also called “mimosa”.
Guess which cocktail is also colored orange like this flower?  Right otterbox review.

Broiled Leeks Vinaigrette with MimosaThe original recipe can be found here and does not include the broiling step which I have added here after the initial poaching . Doing this lightly caramelizes the leek interiors, softening them up further. Something my larger than desired leeks required.
Smaller and more tender leeks may be available at country produce stands and Paris markets but at the supermarkets I must frequent rushing home on a work night don’t usually carry them storage cubes.
They do carry champagne, however.  I had to do something!

Absolutely not

But something in my brain broke a few months ago, and instead of walking on by, I said, “Yes, Black Garlic. I will take you home with me today.” And then I let it sit in my pantry for two months while I built up the courage. I went for a chocolate Bundt cake base because Bundt cakes make me feel safe. Whereas black garlic makes me feel like I’m walking down an unlit alley at 1 AM. In Detroit Alexander Hera.

Since Irvin used a whole head of garlic for half of the brownie recipe, I used a whole head for the cake. Because go big or go home, right? I had read that black garlic has a molasses overtone, and since raspberries go well with chocolate and molasses, ta-da! Raspberry sauce.

This cake is pungent. As I lifted the pan from the cake, a strong, garlicky flavor wafted into my nose. So, naturally, I stuck my nose right down into the center of the cake and took a big ol’ sniff. Yep, smelled like a meat cake. Uh, perfect. Just what I was looking for versace bags?

Once the cake was cool, I cooked up my raspberry sauce and doused it, then took photos before tentatively trying the cake. And I don’t hate it. Which makes me seriously question my mental state.

I think this is one of those recipes that most people are going to be like, “Nope. No. Absolutely not.” and then some total weirdo will make it and be like, “Yeah, I can get on board with this.” My theory is that if you are open to baking a cake with black garlic in the first place, you’re probably adventurous enough of an eater to enjoy it on some level. Either that, or you’re the type of person who likes to troll your friends by bringing a garlic cake to their housewarming party. You jerk headphone amp.

Marble Brownies

Sigh. So here we are again. You, looking at me like I’m incorrigible, with slight disdain and a little fear. Me, looking sheepish, avoiding eye contact, shuffling my feet hair loss treatment.

In my defense, I have a psychological condition in which I want to put savory ingredients into dessert all the time. I’m working on a way to incorporate beets, broccoli, and kale into a recipe. Not the SAME recipe. That might ruin our friendship altogether. But if I can manage to make broccoli cookies that taste really good, wouldn’t I be kind of a hero? (My definition of “hero” is a bit shaky Interactive LED.)

Over a year ago, I funded a Kickstarter campaign for a business in my neighborhood called “The Kitchen.” The idea was that you could pay to go and cook your own multi-course dinner, something they call “Participatory Dining.” Cooking class meets eating out, sort of. When they finally opened their doors, one of the events they had listed was a garlic-themed dinner. The dessert was a black garlic marble brownie. I did a search for the name and landed on Vanilla Garlic, in a guest post by Irvin Lin from Eat The Love for Black Garlic and Vanilla Bean Marble Brownies otterbox review.

Much like black garlic, this idea fermented in my brain for about a year. I knew at least one local grocery store that carried black garlic, and every time I would pass it I was like, “Still too weird for me? Yep.”