1/3 of the ingredients are from the freezer. If you don’t have the other 2/3, I think you’re beyond help. This is one of my favorite breakfasts! The good news is, it’s entirely sugar free. It’s also high in protein. We won’t talk about the […]
This is on the menu at pretty much every Italian restaurant. It’s your classic creamy, cheese, garlicky, truffle scented pasta. I don’t care if it’s overdone! I don’t care if every food blog has a recipe for it! I don’t care if it’s cliched! Huh. Maybe my mom does have a point when she says I’m more overdramatic than Hamlet.
1 head of garlic
1 cup chopped cheese (more on this later)
16 oz fettuccine
3 tablespoons heavy cream
½ cup milk (not shown)
½ tablespoon white truffle paste
You know the drill. Chop and peel the garlic. Smell the garlic. Feel true peace. Look at the news. Flip out. Grab a baseball bat and head for Washington DC. Get stopped by your mom. Deliver a dramatic sermon about the role of an apathetic and misogynistic society in the rise to power of a deranged tyrant. Smell the garlic again.
Saute the garlic in a pan large enough to hold the pasta.
Speaking of which, you should boil that. I’ve heard of some people boiling their pasta in a creamy sauce. I think that’s scandalous. Okay, so maybe I’ve done that. If the president can lie and cheat and get away with it, so can I!
Pour the heavy cream and milk in, and turn the heat to low. Milk on high heat always burns.
Now throw in the cheese- use whatever cheeses you have lying around! I used parmesan, gruyere, and romano. Just don’t use Kraft singles. Not that I have anything against Kraft singles (back in the day, I could eat a whole pack of them! That stopped kind of abruptly once my mom found out what goes in Kraft singles).
Stir it around, and let it melt. Add salt and pepper. Some fresh parsley or basil wouldn’t go amiss.
Now squeeze in the truffle paste. You can add less, if you don’t want a strong flavor or your truffle paste isn’t as concentrated. Taste it, and adjust the seasonings and paste to taste.
Now throw in the pasta- reserve some of the hot pasta water if the sauce gets too grainy and gloopy, which is always a danger with cheese sauces.
Serve it with a sprinkling of fresh herbs (These are green onions, because I ain’t got no herbs).
I ruminated on this title for a long time. Cheesy cruciferous hash was inherently contradictory, the unpretentious former juxtaposed with the intellectual latter (I spent 10 minutes rooting through the dictionary writing that sentence). Red cabbage hash was misleading- there’s no red cabbage in this. […]
Let me tell you a little story. There was cream cheese about to go bad. And I wanted cheesecake. So, I decided to make cheesecake. Y’all with me so far? Good. So, I arrange all my ingredients. I’ve decided to make a classic cheesecake with berries on top. I’ve taken my ingredient shot, when I think it would be adorable to make cheesecake cups! I then spend 20 minutes looking for the cupcake pan. I do not find it. So, I screech for my long suffering, ever patient mother to help me find it. She finds it in 2 minutes. I go on a 10 minute rant about witchcraft and the like, while she reads the newspaper and periodically says “that’s nice, dear”. For those of you who are good at math (or, you know, can do basic addition), 32 minutes have gone by- not counting the time I spend getting ingredients out. I’ve been in the kitchen the whole time. And I do not remember that our oven is not working. Fingers crossed the fine admissions office at Yale never sees this. So, at this point, I make big plans to give up and hide in my closet all evening reading Hemingway (I was feeling tragic). But something kept me in the kitchen. What was it? Persistence? Tenacity? Integrity? Nah, I just really wanted cheesecake. You’ll find this was the driving force behind several significant events in my life. I like cheesecake. So, I omitted the egg, and made no-bake cheesecake. Thank you for listening. I’ll await the call from the folks who give out the Pulitzer Prize now.
⅓ cup cream cheese (full fat. FULL FAT.)
¼ cup sour cream
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
5 tablespoons butter
8 oz Marie biscuits
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
Start by crushing the biscuits. If you’ve got one of them newfangled food processors, use those. If you tried to grind peppercorns in yours, which resulted in it breaking, put the biscuits in a sandwich bag
and crush them with a rolling pin. I should really stop broadcasting all of this to the world, just in case Yale ever sees this. Or am I doing this subconsciously so that if I don’t get into Yale, my ego will be soothed by the fact that they judged me for this, and not because I wasn’t good enough? Is all of this just a big production to protect my superiority complex? Well?! I’m stressed now. I’m going to go crush some Marie biscuits. Once they’re crushed,
dump them into a bowl, and then melt the butter, pour it in, and add the sugar and vanilla.
Mix that in, and eat a spoon. Okay, two spoons. Three? Fine, three spoons.
Then put it in the other room while you make the filling so you don’t eat all of it. You’re going to need to. Now throw the cream cheese, sour cream,
and sugar into a bowl
and beat it it until it’s nice and creamy.
That’s it for the filling! Easy as pie. Cheesecake? Easy as cheesecake? Easy as tiramisu? Easy as impeaching the President? Who said that? Not me. This is all getting too existential. Divide the crust into a cupcake pan, and press it in and around the edges with a spoon or your (clean) fingers.
Pour in the filling,
and freeze it for about 3 hours, or until it’s totally set. It’ll have a nice matte finish.
Serve it with coffee to cut the sweetness!
Yeah, you read that right. How does applesauce mac and cheese not taste disgusting? With the help of cayenne and pesto. Apples and cheese are a classic combo, and a spicy, herby pasta is the perfect place to show that. Feel free to use whatever kind of pasta you have on hand- I was plumb out of macaroni so I use small shells!
3 oz dried, uncooked pasta
2 oz cheddar
1 ⅓ cups milk
1 tablespoon butter
2 tablespoons flour
½ cup applesauce
2 teaspoons cayenne pepper (not shown)
⅓ cup pesto (not shown)
Start by boiling some pasta. The smell of pasta is extremely soothing to me. Carbs are one of my main hobbies. While the magical carbs cook,
make a roux, which sounds fancy and complicated, but is literally just melted butter and flour. So melt the butter,
nd whisk in the flour.
The roux may be just a touch dry,
so pour in some oil.
Once it’s the right consistency, and looked all nice and toasty brown,
turn the heat down and pour in the milk.
Now would be a good time to grate the cheese/make someone else grate it because you forgot and have to stir the sauce. Speaking of which, stir the sauce! If you don’t, the milk will curdle, and burn, and then you’ll have a very messy pot on your hands. Ever try to scrub scalded milk off a pot? You don’t want to. So, stir the sauce!
Once it’s thickened a bit, throw in the applesauce.
. Mix it in, it’ll turn a pretty light brown color.
Now throw in the cheese,
and it’ll turn orange! That color now has very negative connotations, but in cheese, it’s still okay. In cheese, everything is okay. Except maggots. I don’t like maggots. Maggots are bad. It’s a bigly shame there’s an orange maggot running things right now.
Now all you need is some salt and cayenne!
Oh, and now would be a good time to panic that the cinnamon from the applesauce is too overwhelming, so throw in some pesto for good measure. Then taste it and realize it turned out pretty dang good!
So drain the pasta, and then mix that in as well.
Serve it in a big ol’ bowl, and enjoy the horrified expression on the faces of anyone who you tell that you’re eating applesauce mac and cheese. Was that last sentence gramatically correct? I’m going to say it was.