The Pope= Emperor Palpatine?

So yea, this has nothing to do with food. Other than I was eating pizza when I saw it. DC has no good pizza places. Papa Johns is about all I order. It makes me sad. There is your food note for the day.

Now on to the real subject of this post.

I was watching the Daily Show, when the profiled this Pope blooper, or 'Plooper' as I believe they called it.



Yea. Change the color of the robe, and you have:



The Holy Roman Emperor. He is German after all!

The Story of My Mom's Lasagana

So, this mothers day got me thinking. Well, it also got me complaining about how we all got tricked into being jerks if we don't honor Hallmark with all we do a few days a year, but thats besides the point. Marketing worked, and I was thinking about my Mom. Maybe my memory has been colored by the nostalgia of passing years, and a sadly lacking robust adult relationship with her, but I remember the mom of 20 years ago as a domestic goddess. Halloween costumes were handmade, clothing was sewn, the house was immaculate, and dinner was always homemade (and awful for you, but oh so tasty). My mom doesn't pursue these sorts of things anymore with the relish she used to (I think she was the one woman on earth genuinely happy to get a vacuum cleaner for Christmas), but the one thing she still does is make Lasagna. Its our Christmas tradition. These past few years, even though I don't go home anymore and my cousin comes out here for drinks and escape, I still make it.

My family loves its traditions. Not the solemn, reflective, values-based traditions that ground the average corn-fed Mid-Western family, but rather the uproarious, beer-flowing, love-you-for-what-you-are-but-still-gonna-mess-with-you-about-it, show-love-through-food-not-touching, help-build-a-porch-for-you-when-you-need-it kind. On one hand, it means that serious conversations are impossible to have, and relationships that are not natural simply don't deepen. This is sadly why every conversation my mom and I have is something along the lines of "What, I'm working, I'm so busy, you don't understand, how's the dog?, gotta go." On both ends.

On the upside, it means that the few things we have left to connect about, especially now that we don't travel together any more, are these little traditions. For me, and my mom, I think Lasagana is where it all began.

For all the stress and sadness that is elsewhere in her life, my mom retains tremendous pride in this dish. She still makes it right, from start to finish each time. And she is still utterly unable to communicate how to make it to others with annoying, off-topic details like measurements. Its something you have to grow up tasting, watching. Grow up complaining about with the family like the spoiled brat you are, but then bragging about to friends when ma's not listening. Grow into wanting to make yourself. And grow-up to realize that its one of the only things you have left that ties you to your mom. Its precious, beyond the perfect balance of flavor and texture. Its the past of my family, and the future of a relationship.

Here are my mom's own words about this tradition. You can try to make it all you want. But some things are their history as much as they are their substance.

"When Mother's Day rolls around each year it [directs] my thoughts [to] my family. Particularly my daughter and husband. I think how caring they are to me. It makes me think about making my famous lasagna which they love. Learning to make this was an interesting part of my life. When I was 11 years old my neighbor was an older Italian man and one day I started to ask him questions about his sauce as it smelled so good. He said he would show me. We took all the ingredients, tomatoes, garlic paste, sauce, water and gently stirred and the most important factor is to simmer for 3 patient hours to get the well blended taste. Then a few years later I lived for a couple of years with a Sicilian lady and helped her and she asked if i would like to learn to make lasagna the real Italian way. Of course I said yes. She showed me how to mix the ricotta, mozzarella cheese, parsley eggs, milk and then how to layer. The sauce I used from what I learned several years before. This recipe came our very satisfactory for the real Italian way. I served to my family and they love it. It makes me so happy as they deserve it and just these thoughts give me a happy mothers day."


Thanks ma.

Happy Birthday Hammer- Doggie Birthday Cake

I thought my awkward days of trying to fit into the cool crowd were long gone, relegated to past Junior High dances and makeout parties I would rather forget. I mean, I think I am a pretty interesting person, not awful to look at, with decent taste and a successful job, right? Then why, when I take my beloved mutt to the unofficial dog park just a few blocks away, am I suddenly made to feel like I just turned up in un-ironic flannel and leg warmers to fashion week?

Why? Well, its simple. These are dog people. I thought I was a dog person. I like dogs better than cats, I enjoy a good game of frisbee as much as the next girl. But I was wholly unprepared for the social scene that is the urban dog park. Last week when I was there, someone took pity on me sitting in the corner all designer-poop-bag free and came over to talk. Relieved that someone was willing to chat with me, even though my modest pooch didn't support the upper-east-side crest of a fancy doggie day care, I asked her the requisite dog-related questions: Which one is yours? How old is he? etc. In response, she whipped out a framed photograph that she kept in her purse of her dog's wedding. Yea, read that sentence again. Its as ridiculous as it sounds.

Now, I like to think I have played the cocktail circuit enough for work to be able to think quick on my feet no matter where the conversational tsunami may take me, but none of my rigorous self-taught etiquette prepared me for what the follow up to "oh, here are mira's wedding photographs. We had such a lovely ceremony" might be, when 'Mira' is a 75lb Chesapeake. Ummm...congrats? Where did they honeymoon? Are they registered?

Wow.

I love my dog, don't get me wrong. He's about the best dog in the world. But he does not need clothing, psychotherapy sessions, daily grooming for self-esteem, reasoned discourse about desired behavior beyond "No! and Good dog!", or a pretty little doggie bride.

So no, I am not one of those 'dog people'. All of this is a admittedly defensive preface for the real meat of this post which is how to make a doogie birthday cake. Which is exactly the sort of thing 'dog people' would do. I will just keep telling myself that I did it ironically, and hopefully be able to believe it :-)

Hammer Dog turned 5 last Fri, on May Day. The East is Red and so is my dog. The weather has been beautiful, just cool enough to sit outside comfortably at night with a sweater. Perfect al-fresco dining. I needed an excuse for a dinner party. I figure a little appreciation of the best dog ever, who, for 5 years, has left my shoes happily unchewed, was in order.

I made a leg of lamb, rubbed with honey, cinnamon, cardamom, salt and pepper. It was delicious, and Hammer Dog loves lamb bone above all other treats. Except the laser pointer light. He would forgo food, water, and attention for that little red dot.

But the crowning achievement of this party was the doggie cake. I had never done this before, and wanted to make something that actually looked like cake. I couldn't believe this worked. It smells like death itself, and definitely should cool outside, but there is nothing a dog loves more than something smelling somewhere between dirty diapers and rotting rat carcass. Gross, but true.

Anyway, here is the recipe:

Ingredients:
4 cups dry Dog Food
1 cup flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1 Tsp baking soda
1/2 cup olive oil
2 eggs
1/4 cup ketchup
1/4 cup oyster sauce (optional, really any savory good that your dog likes will work here)
Salt & Pepper
3/4 Can of Beef Broth

Frosting

4 large potatoes
1/4 can Beef Broth
Food coloring

Directions:
Put the dog food in a food processor and process until almost the consistency of flour. Mix with other dry ingredients Add oil, eggs, sauces and spices and mix. Mixture will be very thick. Add beef broth until mixture has the consistency of lumpy cake batter, about 3/4 cup.

Pour batter into a greased springform pan. Bake at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes, or until toothpick comes out clean. Remove and cool before frosting, preferable outside as this will stink something awful at this point.

Frosting: Peel and boil potatoes until soft in salted water. Remove, strain, and cool. Using the back of a spoon or your hands, push potatoes through a colander so that you have a pie of small tubular mashed potatoes (this keeps them from being lumpy for people to eat if you are also serving them at dinner, and more easily spreadable for frosting. add food coloring to make them a vibrant color (it really looks better if silly), and add about 1/4 cup beef broth to thin and for taste.

When the cake is cool, grease a frosting knife and spread the potatoes on the cake as you would normal frosting. I also wrote a birthday message on the cake in mustard.






For bonus fun, leave the cake accessible to annoying people- it looks so real, and delicious, that they will inevitably be compelled to try. Enjoy the gagging.

Seriously though, Hammer LOVED THIS. He stared at the oven the whole time it was cooking! He was terrified though of the candles!




Yea, I'm a dork.

Twitter

So I finally succumbed and created a Twitter account for HaochiDC. Find quick updates on places around town, see where HaochiDC is gorging currently, and notes of new and upcoming posts!

Just search for HaochiDC.

See you on the internets!

Yea Milkshakes- A Review of Good Stuff Eatery

The Eastern Market area is in sad need of some good cheap food options. I have worked my way through every sorry delivery option around, and cry a little each time I am reminded that Papa Johns is the best pizza available. So when a new little burger joint seemed to be moving in the neighborhood, I was of course curious.

So yesterday, back from two months of traveling, I was tired and starving- it was the perfect opportunity to try out Good Stuff Eatery. I illegally parked my little Honda and ran inside to get something quick to go while my dog waited patiently in the car. I figured it was 2 PM, there was no line, how long could it take?
Apparently, a while. This was the only real down point to the place- there was literally no line, but it still took about 10 minutes from order to serving. If this place is to succeed as largely a take-out quickie place, it needs to move faster. There was seemingly no specialization amongst the staff. The girl that took my order also made my turkey burger, and the one who served up the tray also made the shake. There were 3 or 4 other staff hanging around who's role was really anyone's guess. Maybe things just looked disorganized because it was a down time, but still, no excuse for not getting on top of orders with a little haste, especially when a customer has nothing to do but watch.

Ok, but how was the food? Well, the milkshake was amazing! I had a Milky Way shake, which was served with caramel and good fudge in the bottom, fresh homemade ice cream, and bits of malted milk (not so big as to get stuck in the straw, and not so small as loose value as texture). My only thought- they should use bigger straws. Even though it never really got stuck, I had to pucker my mouth and pull my eyes back into my head a bit to get much up through the straw at times. I never understand why places that serve milkshakes (especially ones like this that seem to specialize in them) don't automatically have big fat straws. Makes the experience so much better, especially when there is goo and candy involved.



They also offered a variety of other flavors, to include toasted marshmallow, soursop hop strawberry, and a d-lecheable leche. Will keep trying them and update :-)

As for the burgers? I had a turkey burger that waaaay overdid the cilantro and lemon. A little lemon/cilantro in the avocado spread could be a nice touch, but in an attempt to slam my face repeatedly into how fresh things were there, they waaaaaayy over did the tastes. It completely overwhelmed what I think was a good turkey burger, but can't be sure. Cilantro is one of those tastes that our brain processes as 'fresh'. Parsley and lemon work too. Overwhelming a dish with cilantro is an amateurish way of making it evoke a 'freshness' ethos; in this case, this was particularly misplaced, as most of the food is already quite obviously fresh. There was no need to resort to the cilantro overkill tactic, and it in fact ruined the more subtle freshness that I am pretty sure was there.

The regular burger was delicious, but not much better than five guys (which I love), yet $3 more.

The fries were fantastic- crispy with sea salt, cracked pepper, and rosemary, but not too much of either. They are unique, reasonably portioned (small and large sizes), and delicious.

This is the place to go in the Eastern Market area when you are craving great shakes or fries. Potentially, it could be a great showcase for fresh ingredients and produce in burger form- a little more confidence, and I doubt the cilantro/lemon overload would be a problem. As for the regular burger, to be honest, I think you are better off going to five guys (because I am cheap)- unless you want to fru-fru it up, and in that case check out Ray's Hell Burger in Arlington. That said, the burgers are tasty, and if you came for the shake, hell, stay for a burger!

Damn, now I want a milkshake...

Embarassing Things I Love- Part 2- Lauging Cow and Triscuits Make Mopey Time Delicious

Laughing Cow cheese, and regular plain Triscuits.....mmmmmm....






When I lived in China, this was often the only cheese I could get. And I have significant cheese-needs.

Anyway, when I am sad for no good reason, like today, this makes it all not so bad. Its not like I feel less sad, rather I somehow get to enjoy a sad day. Like a sick day when your mom brought you soup when you were a kid. Its beauty.

My perfect ratio? 2/3 of a wedge of cheese to one triscuit. Cause I like cheese. YUM!

Embarassing Things I Love- Part 1- Kröllebölle

So, I can be a pretentious eater. I know. I scoff at supermarket cheese (Eastern Market Cheese Nazi is the man for me), turn my nose away from overcooked meat, and will go to incredible (and often unwise) fiscal and geographic lengths to avoid chain restaurants.

All of this pretension has been acquired in the last ten years. I grew up eating recipes made from soup cans and packages of things bought in bulk, with a once-a-year fancy outing to the Olive Garden to celebrate some common nerd-kid achievement (straight A's! New School! Science Olympiad 1st Place!)

One year in China at age 20 with a corporate expense account and a fancy boyfriend, however, and I was ruined. Well, almost.

Today I had to return five legs to IKEA. I bought six for an ambitious project involving making my new 100 lb TV circa 2003 acquired free from a pilot friend that replaced the buzzing no-name brand obtained free from an Irish guy that lived with us once (which is a whole other story) circa 2000 stay securely on an IKEA shelf that came with the apt and was clearly designed for a plasma bought sometime since Friends went off the air. Hey, I spend my money on food, not gadgets, that should be clear from both my waistline and VCD collection.

Anyway, once I discovered that the project really only involved one leg and a lot of screws (stop giggling), I needed to return the extras. (I stuck a picture in below- hey, I'm pretty proud of this, I designed and built it myself! And it hasn't squished my dog yet!) So began my third visit to IKEA in a month. And I hate shopping.



Well, while at IKEA, I found myself drawn to the cafeteria. I try to bury this feeling like a memory of a gropey uncle, but I suddenly find myself in line , not because I don't have time to get something better, but rather because I have been thinking of Swedish meatballs since I first decided to return to IKEA. When I first bought the extraneous legs, a friend and I made a much-needed stop to sit and collect our thoughts (and talk ourselves out of some unwise modular furniture). Well, something drew me to these little guys, sitting there all congealed and dry looking behind the glass in the mini-cafeteria. Cutsy Swedish names may have been the culprit: kröllebölle....mmmm....I own at least one ill-fitted duvet cover for much the same reason.

I don't know what it is about them. The meatballs are overcooked, the cream sauce processed, and the lingonberry jam, well, its jam made by a furniture store. But somehow, together, something magic happens. The processed-ness of the cream sauce manages to penetrate the meatballs tough outer shell, and the blandness of the resulting combination is just enough to make the lingonberry jam palatable. Its a thing of beauty.



So yea, I love the stuff. I have never bought the take-home variety, but I am fairly confident it just wouldn't be the same. Maybe next time I will buy a pack to give it a try anyway. I am sure I will be back soon. My Schunenbergen needs a Bralogogen with a Garnotter and Mangbanden. Or something like that.