Bacon & Egg Grilled Cheese

On brioche, bitches! BRIOCHE!!!

 

Can I just say, if 'language' bothers you, you are in the wrong damn place? Because you are! Also, don't make these, as they are SO good, you gonna wanna cuss!!! No recipe, but if I have to tell you that you're going to need REAL butter to make these, you're probably not too crafty in the kitchen, and you probably do a lot of other stuff I would make fun of you for! I would use unsalted butter due to all the other salty stuff, just a tip. Cheese, your choice. Bacon, crispy. Fried egg, I like mine over easy, the giant likes his over hard(like his skull, hehe). Toast them little pockets of goodness up and cuss up a storm, FUCKAROUND!!!

Oatmeal Cookies To Die For!

I can't find the recipe right now, but that's probably a good thing! They may look sad, blurry, and misshapen, but I would love to cram at least 3 of these in my face with an ice cold milk chaser!

My mother asked me for many years to help her search for a cookie recipe that would be similar to my Grandma Myrna's oatmeal cookies. Thin, crispy, chewy...to die for. This, is it. THESE are THE ONES!!!

Let me explain something here. I don't know if you can fully appreciate the gravitas of the search for this recipe, possibly because I said it was one similar to my grandma Myrna's. That may lead you to believe I had other relatives from whom I could seek advice on the matter, but I couldn't. This woman was not my grandmother, just a lady that babysat me and my brother as kids. I did reach out to one of her biological grandkids to ask if she knew of the recipe, but she was a few years younger than me, living and working in a resort in Mexico, she had no tangible resources to call upon either, but I feel should would have made a better effort if she wasn't having the time of her life. Tanned, toned, muscular bodies, carefree beach fun, never-ending summer...yeah, she's not looking for cookie recipes. She already knows the only one she needs. Ahem.


Previously, I had googled them many times, but being in Kansas, hearing my mother say they were 'paper thin' I searched this time for 'paper thin oatmeal cookies' and hot damn! How hard was that? Jeez!

I can't say I found her recipe exactly, but it's close enough. The difference between these and other oatmeal cookie recipes? This one calls for 4 sticks of unsalted butter! EUREKA! That's not what makes them so damn good, well, it is, but, it's also what makes them so damn thin. Duh! Of all the puffed up, thick, gummy OR hard as a gingersnap and tastes-like-cardboard oatmeal cookies I have made, I probably could have made all of them divine with 4 sticks of butter!





So good, and the recipe makes a million so no one will know you already gobbled up half of them. But, take heed...making these could be extremely dangerous. Consider the buddy system, so if you do eat the whole batch, at least you have someone to split the calories and shame with. You think I'm kidding. I'm not.

Cooked on Netflix

Check it out the next time you can't decide on something to watch. It's a series, beware of the binge. watching the first episode now, lots of interesting info with solid storytelling, offering new perspectives on something that rarely seems to earn the respect we owe it for our survival!

Baked Brie

August, mind you, a Texas summer night. So delightfully cool outside, so sublimely beautiful, so unbelievably rare, it's magical. Twinkling patio lights, clanking wine glasses. Sharp cheddar, herbed mozzarella, and I'm baking a brie wedge in crescent dough. This is about to be serious. I'm 'fixin to' up my game, throwing down some last minute wow on a Tuesday evening worthy of such decadence.

I cut the rind off the brie, not sure if it would melt. I'm not in love with eating brie rind, but I don't particularly mind it either, despite the knowledge of what it is. Honestly, I was trying to use only half of the crescent roll dough, I needed the extra room to wrap it. Marvelously, it fit like a glove, champ!

Follow generic recipe online. After 20 minutes in a 350 oven, brush with an egg wash. 5 minutes to perfection. Giddy! Oh so giddy!

I'm beyond excited about this, grateful to have snapped a pic, eager to capture the ooey-gooey one that immediately follows. Gorgeous color, pungent, yet comforting with the sweet-baked smell of the crescent roll. The sheen on it's not obvious, but it was there. I swear.

After letting it rest for a few minutes, I could hardly wait to have it in my mouth--so warm, it's still piping hot in the center, creamy and molten. But wow, the aroma...it won't quit. The first nibble was cut in two, offering one to the giant. Wowza. My portion was mostly crust, as was the big guy's, so I cut two larger bites. Flakey, glistening, oh, gawd...and stinky.

Mmmm. Wait, wait, this is burning my throat, the fumes smoldering up under my soft palette are stinging my nostrils. The giant's face contorts into a montage of nightmarish distortions, he gags. I start screaming even though my mouth was completely full--muffled terror! He runs to the bathroom, aiming for the toilet; I lunge toward the utility closet, headed for the trashcan. Fucking disgusting! Spit, SPIT!!! Hack, cough, gag! For a moment I consider picking up the microfiber rug and licking it's dry pellet-like texture just to get this shit/gunk hybrid cheese turd off my tongue. Before I could get it all spit out, I suggested the big guy lick the dog's ass to cleanse his pallet! Do we have any drain cleaner??? Where's that scrap piece of fine-grit sandpaper???--anything to get this taste out of my mouth!!! Plughghghfffffttt BLEAGHGHGHGH!

Whertguh. Breathe. Just breathe. Whertguh. Spit. Breathe. Wash it down. WHERTGUH! Bleach! Get a glass of bleach, with ice...whertguh, uh. I'm not....WHERT, UH...guh...I'm not taking a picture of that shit, get it out of here. Whert...guh, uh. Oh my gawd. Tears are streaming down our faces form the gagapalooza of an ammonia flavored baked brie. Guh. Just breathe.

Having to describe it, my best answer would be a litter box full of dried out cat shit soaked in piss wrapped in moist dirty gym socks form 1987--you know, but with a melted, cheesy center. Fuckaround, man. This shit *gag* was so *gag* I had to...please excuse me. I can't stop whertguh-ing.

Apparently, what I've been eating as Brie, is not in fact, Brie at all. It's Brie-ish, but not Brie. Real Brie can't be exported from France because of the bacteria-laden rind. This one said it was imported from France on the label, and I paid a pretty penny for it, but whatever. I am still queasy. Apparently, this ammonia flavor and aroma could have been dissipated by airing it out. You would have had to air it out three states away to ever get that smell/taste out. Ugh.

I don't even want to talk about it anymore. So disgusting. The big guy takes it to the trash, ridding our household of this foul stench. If only we had some 9-volt batteries to lick, maybe our pie-holes could revive with a little shock therapy.

Aye.

Marshmallow Coffee

Creeping Jesus! This is an insanely: tasty, frothy, awesome, cup of adult rewards. Coffee with meringue! I never knew this was a thing, I just did it one evening, then looked it up afterwards. Like so many of our favorite things=classic, bold, simple, comforting, sweet and delicious.

I didn't toast mine, but next the next time I get out of this matchbox, I'm getting one of those flame-thrower, welding torch...whatchyamagigs for all the 2 times I ever needed one.

Perfect for this rainy day!

Michelada, Michelada, Michelada!

The day I had my first taste of a bloody Mary backed with a Budlight shooter is the day I began ruining my liver, in downtown St. Louis. From that point on, I could be spotted at any social gathering from a great distance by people who didn't even know me. The loud one, that smart-ass drunk slamming vodka and tomato juice in one hand, light beer in the other. Oh gawd. Luckily, she doesn't do that anymore. It pains me to know that period could have been shortened long before I replaced my poison with Jager, if I'd just had more Mexican/Latino friends!!!

Blame the Mexicans...it's the American way!

Mi amigos let me in on a little summer favorite, one that they'd been keeping a big secret. Sort of. If you've never had a Michelada, but have tried a 'Chelada' made by Budweiser, it's the same concept. I thought I had found a super easy solution to having my bloody mary and beer in one container, but the tomato juice ratio was always too much and just seemed lacking in general. However, my first sip of homemade Michelada, I swear I heard supernatural creatures sing in perfect harmony!

Mine was made with Clamato Picante Cocktail, Modelo, limes, and Tajin(which my latinos pronounced like 'Cajun' because, well...Texas).

Try it with your fave Mexican beer, it's heaven!

Cut limes for garnish & to wet rim, dip in Tajin, add Clamato, adjust ratio with beer, enjoy!

Celery Salad

Ina Garten has a wonderful recipe for celery salad. I don't have it handy, and I'm not going to fetch it for you because that's not what this is, but it was the inspiration for it.

It's been a long time since I made this one pictured, I can't say the exact ingredients, and since I just found this in my phone, less-than-stellar photo quality isn't much of a help in discovering all of them.

Celery, sliced. On the slant if you're feeling fancy
Lemon Garlic marinade & dressing
Black Pepper
Celery salt
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated with a vegetable peeler
Walnuts, toasted, it looks like...? but I swore I used toasted
Pecans!


Maybe green onions in there. Hard to tell. Good call, though.





I think I see bell pepper, a red one would be nice, maybe a radish? No tomatoes if you want to serve this with any red Italian sauce dish...that's just overkill.

It's delish and pretty versatile. A nice detour from the regular dinner salad.