Say Hallo to my Vine-Ripen’ Frien’!

So the Super Bowl is around the corner and there are few things I like more than a party where guys can kick back with some burgers, beers and of course some good old American football. Seeing as this is the Super Bowl, the name of the game is go big or go home, so I’m thinking: an ungodly amount chicken wings, enough chili to feed the Dallas Cowboys, enough nachos to simultaneously clean out Mexico and Wisconsin and obviously enough beer to make the town of Killarney blush!
One of the things I’ve especially been thinking about; is what to do about making guacamole. I try to cook locally when I can, but there’s nothing local about guacamole. The best avocado’s come from Mexico or California and so do the peppers. During the Summer months, I can get great tomatoes, but it’s almost February and I’m in New York City! I’ve been checking the wall of this little Facebook group I’m in with some fuckin’ shoemaker in there prattling on about Heirloom Tomatoes and how wonderful they are. I’m like, “that’s awesome dude…I didn’t know farmers in New Jersey and Long Island could break the frozen fucking ground back in November to plant tomatoes so you could get fresh one’s in your guacamole come February…douche.” You know what, I take that back. Maybe he’s not a shoemaker, maybe he’s got like a dealer or something. Like the Tony Montana of tomatoes. Sitting in some brownstone in Harlem watching a closed circuit camera with a feed to some huge indoor field while, women naked from the waist up and wearing surgical masks pick huge, plump, juicy Heirloom tomatoes and place them on a conveyor belt that takes them to a plane where they're flown directly to him in little kilo bricks!
Anyway, I’m going a different route this year. I’m going down to my local grocery store and buying a can of Diced Hunts Tomatoes. I’m going to drain them and mix them in with my avocados, peppers, red onions, &c. The way I see it, why the hell am I going to buy some “vine-ripened tomatoes” at Whole Foods, or where ever, that were grown in a hothouse in California and shipped across the country; when I could buy a can of tomatoes that were in season when they were picked, vacuum sealed and left on a shelf for me to buy? Seriously, you’d have to be on crack if you tried to tell me that a tomato; grown out of season in a hothouse; would have more taste than a fresh tomato that was flash steamed and vacuum sealed. Also, I prefer red onion to plain old white or Spanish onions; I think they’ve got more complexity of taste. I like my guac a little on the spicy side, so I tend to go with a couple jalapeno peppers, but if you’re a Nancy just remember that a half ounce of Chili powder or Cayenne equals about one jalapeno pepper. By the way, you’ll notice I’ve left the seeds in the guacamole; it makes it a little tougher to scoop, but the seeds will help keep your guac fresher than all the lime juice in the world. Not to mention, tossing a bunch of lime juice in your guac will just make it taste like Tequiza and let’s be honest, nobody wants that. To that end, here’s my 2009 Winter Guacamole recipe.

Winter Guacamole…with balls…and a can

Ingredients:
3 – Haas avocados, halved, seeded and criss-cross cut (seeds reserved)
1 – Lime, juiced
½ - Medium red onion, diced
15 ½ oz can – diced tomatoes, drained
1-to-2 – Jalapeno peppers, seeded and minced
2 Tbsp – Cilantro, chopped
½ tsp – Ground cumin
Kosher salt, to taste

Directions:
Scoop out the avocado pulp into a large bowl and lime juice, toss to coat, then add seeds. Fold in the red onion, tomato, jalapeno, cilantro, garlic. Then mix in the salt and cumin. Let sit at room temperature in a cool dark place, covered with plastic wrap, for 1 hour and then serve.

I’m also a fan of Nachos and Chili, but I’m not going to waste my time, or yours, telling you how to assemble nachos, and chili is best left for another day (because we’re going to get into a whole discussion about beans versus no beans and Texas versus Mexico Chili…it’s gonna be exhausting). I will however, give you a recipe for some awesome chicken wings. Or maybe for that matter a couple variations on chicken wings. Again, Elliott likes his chicken spicy, but you can cut down on the peppers or hot sauce if you’re making yours at Shady Acres Nursing Home…

Chickadee China the Chinese Chicken...Wing

Ingredients:
Between six and eight lbs of chicken wings
1 Thai or 2 Habanero Chilies, seeded and chopped
4 Tbsp – Fresh Ground Ginger
4 Cloves – Garlic, minced. One clove reserved
½ Cup – Soy Sauce, halved
¼ Cup – Honey
2 – Limes, juiced and zest reserved
4 – Scallions, thinly sliced
4 Tbsp – Sambal Oelek or Sriracha

Directions:
Combine chilies, ginger, 3 cloves of garlic, half the soy, honey & lime juice in a food processor and pulse into a paste. Place marinade in a zip lock bag with the chicken and coat evenly. Allow to marinate, refrigerated, for at least 4 hours.
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees and allow chicken to come to room temperature. Place on a lined or greased baking sheet and bake for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, combine remaining ingredients (garlic, soy sauce, lime zest, scallions and Sambal Oelek) in a small sauce pan, over medium-to-high heat and allow to reduce by half. After 20 minutes, remove chicken from oven and brush with sauce. Raise temperature to 400 degrees and continue cooking until chicken is cooked through, about twenty minutes. Use any remaining sauce to toss the chicken in when it is finished.
Note: Chicken wings can also be deep fried, which will cut down on cooking time, but will obviously be less healthy. If you decide to deep fry, then follow the instructions up to the marinating stage, then simply toss the fried wings in a large wok or sauté pan with the ingredients, then serve.

My other chicken wing recipe is much simpler. Get yourself a bottle of Frank’s Red Hot, about a half a stick of butter, a half cup of brown sugar or molasses. In a large pot, combine the butter and sugar and cook until gooey, then add the hot sauce. Reduce and add your already cooked chicken wings. Reduce as much as you like, then serve with Blue Cheese, Ranch or the dressing of your choosing.

So there you go, chicken wings and guacamole. After all, what else do you want to eat while watching the Super Bowl? Duck L’Orange? Pâté de foie gras on Toast Points? Easy Mac? No, you’re eating sloppy, fatty, tasty stuff you can hold in one hand while you hold a beer in the other.

When I Cook at Your Place…

Let me preface this whole thing by saying that I’ve been knocked on my ass by an incredibly nasty stomach virus. I’ve been spending my days going from the bathroom to the couch and back again, eating chicken soup and drinking ginger ale. Let me tell you, I like ginger ale, I think it’s pretty tasty stuff, but fuck man when that’s all you drink for five straight days you want to shoot yourself. I’m also whacked out on an interesting little cocktail of Immodium A-D, Kaopectate and Anti-Nausea medication. Anyway, I’m a little on edge…because I miss chewing food and this popped into my head because I was recently invited to dinner at a friend’s house, where some people she knew would be doing the cooking.
I love nothing more than going to one of my friend’s homes and making an amazing meal. It gives me wonderful pleasure feeding people, which is why I started down this path in the first place. If I’m cooking at your place, chances are you’re a friend of mine or if you’re especially lucky one of my friends has co-opted me to do some cooking for you. In either case, I’m there because I want to be there and because you’d like me to make a great meal (and probably impress the hell out of people); whether it be for a small gathering, a dinner party or a New Year’s blow out. Now when I say, “I” and “me” I don’t mean me in general, I mean all professional cooks who have ever gone to a friend’s home to cook a meal.
We cooks are a generous bunch, but we’re not exactly a wealthy bunch; but I feel some people still don’t quite get it. One thing that has always surprised me is that some of the people I know (not all; and those of you I’m not talking about know who you are; and you’re awesome) seem to almost take for granted that they can make a phone call and have a classically trained chef cooking in their kitchen 24 hours, or in some cases minutes, later. I show up, my arms heavy with groceries, my knives on my back and my wallet a little lighter from the proceeds of those bags. I unpack my tools and the food and usually get to work. I stand by a stove or a kitchen counter chopping, mincing, mixing, sautéing, broiling and generally trying to stay an engaged member of the conversation, but forgive me if I’m trying to sweat the small stuff like, ya’know, making sure the food tastes good or no one finds a fingertip in their soup!
Just because I say I think it would be fun to cook at your place when you invite 20 people over, doesn’t mean I’m down to do the shit for free. I’m sure I sound like a prick, but look at it this way: what would it cost you to hire a personal chef, have them come to your home, plan a menu, reimburse them for groceries, and then have them cook for people in your house…pretty steep eh? I mean, if I had a buddy who was an Accountant, I wouldn’t call him over every March, ask him to “look at” my taxes and then send him home with a handshake and a pat on the back. You get me for free; but you really shouldn’t, and I’m too much of a nice guy (read: sap) to directly ask friends of mine, or their friends to maybe pony up a little cash for my hard work. I’m not saying that every person who walks through the door to a dinner party, or whatever, needs to press a Sawbuck in my palm. That’s the hosts responsibility to pull me aside and say, “hey, thanks for doing this, what do I owe you?” In most cases, I’m not going to pull the receipt out of my pocket and hand it over but I’ll be happy you asked and I’ll ask for a little something. You’ve just got to understand where I’m coming from, when its all said and done if I’m going to leave your place tired from cooking on my night off, with my wallet a little lighter and maybe a little booze on the brain; I’m probably not going to be smiling as much as you are if I walk out of there with nothing more than the momentary press of your palm against mine.
In short, don’t take your friends who are professional cooks for granted. Your friends who work on Wall Street or for Prada or 1-800-Flowers or a Cosi or whatever, take them for granted, I don’t care. They didn’t make the sacrifices us cooks made, to work long hours for little money. We’re having fun, this is after all, what we signed up for; but there are times when it can feel like (and I know I’m not alone) that fun we’re having is being taken advantage of.
Maybe I’m just cranky because I haven’t chewed solid food in four days and my toilet seat knows me better than my pillowcase, but I know what I know. And right now, what I know…besides knowing I want a juicy burger like nobody’s business…I know that the next time one of us comes to your houses don’t let us leave with just a handshake.