Pumpple Cake Par-tay.

Sweets lovers of the world were in awe when the Today show featured the dessert equivalent of the turducken last month. Created by a little bakery in Philly, the Pumpple Cake is a mammoth of a layer cake, consisting of pumpkin pie baked inside a chocolate cake as the bottom layer and an apple pie baked inside a vanilla cake on top, all slathered with buttercream frosting.

While the average sweet-toother may have started placing orders for the 1,800 calorie-per slice cake at The Flying Monkey, a pair of my food-loving co-workers and I set out on a mission ourselves: to create our OWN, that's right you read it right, our own pumpple cake.

After dividing the prep between the three of us (one par-baked the apple pie, one par-baked-or purchased-a pumpkin pie, and I whipped up some decadent butter cream) we gathered at Tonya's lovely house (and newly renovated kitchen) in Arlington to do the damn thing.

The end result: a delicious, indulgence that probably shouldn't be consumed more than once a year given its ability to put an average person into diabetic shock. Enjoy the play-by-play below:

That is an apple pie.

Covered by vanilla cake batter. 

Now the pumpkin.

Engulfed in chocolate batter. 

Baked in the oven for a lot longer than we expected. 

Frosted with hand made buttercream frosting. 

A little decoration. 

The Bakers. 

That is 1800 calories of goodness people! 

Yes We CAN!

Here's the low down on New England's tomato crop this year: they are abundant. I decided take advantage of the overflowing tomatoes at our CSA farm Red Fire Farm, and order a few, or 20, pounds for canning!

As I placed my order for a half bushel of pasting tomatoes, also known as Roma, I had what is commonly referred to as an impulse buy. Some people exercise their impulse buys at the check out counter by grabbing that US Weekly, or pack of gum. I found myself impulse buying bulk veggies. In this case a half bushel (20 lbs.) of sweet delicious onions.  Oh yeah, then I threw in eight heads of garlic too!

A few days later I lugged to my office two HUGE boxes of tomatoes and onions, which required help from Adam to carry back to our apartment. Thus started my first foray into canning.

Some may be intimidated by the process, which involves sterilizing everything and then boiling the canned jars in a water bath for at least 45 minutes. But the process is pretty easy, as long as you've got a few hours to dedicate to it.

On Sunday I started out to can whole tomatoes. Since we don't have a dishwasher to sterilize the jars, I boiled the jars and lids, and then blanched the tomatoes in order to remove their skin. After filling up the sterile jars with peeled and quartered tomatoes, I added a tablespoon or so of lemon juice to each. This prevents botulism, which is some pretty nasty stuff. Peeling tomatoes was probably the most painstaking part, but really not as hard as I expected. There's a simple technique for peeling tomatoes, or any skinned fruit or veggie. Bring a pot of water to a boil, throw the tomatoes in for a few minutes, then remove them and dump 'em in an ice bath. The skins just slide right off. Messy, but simple.

After filling and sealing the jars, you simply boil them in a water bath for about 50 minutes. After the jars cool for a day they're done. As long as the lid didn't pop up, you've got sealed tomatoes to keep you through the winter!

Here is a step by step photos for tomato canning.

I Can See My House From Here!

Tearfully, our last CSA pickup has come and gone. Subconsciously it seems we have made an attempt to ration the last of this season's vegetables. One reason might be to hold on to the last of the amazing produce we were able to enjoy for 4 glorious months. Yet another reason might be to take a break from eating uber-healthy (albeit damn tasty) roots, tubers, leaves, and sprouts. This might be more of my selfish outlook to be honest.....

After her class on Thursday night, Kate and I decided to cheat on those chlorophyll goodies and try out Chez Henri, the well established and talked about French-Cuban bistro that sits no more than 100 steps from our front porch. Getting in just as the end of the bar opened up, we each pulled up a stool and ordered from the bar menu. We shared their specialty, a pressed Cuban sandwich, and a duck tamale salad for a grand total of $25. For a place that gets knocked on being expensive, not exactly breaking the bank. We enjoyed a few traditional cocktails, a rum and lime juice with bitters for me and a mojito for Kate, and the dishes took little time to follow. The sandwich was easily large enough for two and we were immediately relieved that we didn't decide on a third menu item.....although the french onion soup gratinee is on my list for next time.

The bread was super crusty and buttery, but didn't singe the roof of my mouth with heat or carve it up because it was too hard (a major concern for any panini veteran). Inside - paper thin slices of ham, tender roast pork, pickles, and gooey cheese to bind it all together. Yup, the combination tasted as good as it sounds. To be honest, it's probably the best Cuban sandwich if not the best overall sandwich I have ever had. The duck tamale was also a good size to share. The masa 'cocoon' was stuffed with shredded duck meat and it sat on top of a delicious spinach salad with warm vinegar dressing. On closer inspection, the wilted greens were also studded with thumb-sized lardons of bacon. These guys have definitely done their homework. Both dishes were a perfect compliment to our drinks too. We couldn't eat quick enough, each bite balancing rich, unctuous meaty bits with vinegar-spiked forkfuls and tart lime chasers.

Staring at a clean plates, sipping on the remains of our drinks, I was reminded of The Rum Diaries by Hunter Thompson where he and a raucous gang of journalist-nutbags spend nearly all waking hours downing high octane rum drinks and eating burgers in the sandblasted cafes of San Juan. Okay, not exactly the same environment, but I could picture a group of writers or laborers, or to a lesser extent Harvard students, chatting their days' laments away over the flowing rum drinks and meaty sandwiches of Chez Henri. Maybe I am getting carried away, but a sandwich like this gives you the excuse to daydream.

It's taken a while to get there, but I'm ridiculously happy I live so close to this place. I've got the best sandwich in Boston, bacon salads, and a cozy neighborhood bar one block away from me. I'll try to keep it under wraps though, our vegetables are bound to be jealous.

A Hellish Night Indeed.....

-2:03am-

That's strange. Why am I awake? I got to bed nice and early, i've got work tomorrow.....

Oh. Right. (flashback to last night)

*Johnny Cash's 'Ring of Fire' playing in the background*

"I think i'm going to start with the Red Hot Raspberry Margarita and a PBR"

"Wow, you guys ordered the spiciest food on the menu"

"If you want to eat that, you need to sign this waiver"

and most vividly,

"Welcome to Hell Night, your table is ready"

It came as no surprise that the raging inferno burrowing it's way through my lower intestine was a result of the ridiculous food choices I made earlier on that night. As a Hell Night rookie, I came in excited (maybe a bit too excited), pushed the boundaries, and ended up paying for it dearly. Perhaps a bit of cockiness was to blame after I easily sipped my Margarita with Raspberry – Red Fresno Chile Puree with little problem. Things went downhill from there.

Check out the insanely fiery menu: http://www.eastcoastgrill.net/menus/Hell0910.html

With 6 at our table (myself, Jordan, Matt, Jen, Wendy and Rich) we got enough Appetizers from Hell for everyone to have a nibble and the 'Russian Roulette' was an easy first choice. Instead of six chambers and one bullet, one of the six spicy Italian meatballs served was bumped from a paltry 2 bombs (that's right, all dishes are ranked on their heat by a series of cartoonish black bombs) to the brain scrambling, face-numbing 8 bombs. One-out-of six. I liked my chances.....right until I bit into the tiny meat nugget and was met by a resounding crunch. Confusion turned to curiosity, then to anxiety. Yup, I was screwed. The minced chilies and seeds filled my mouth and started reeking havoc on my all of my senses. Sweaty brow, pulsing tongue, and the instant feeling of regret. Ice water, cole slaw and corn bread with extra butter were slightly helpful in returning me to normalcy. We followed that up with a nice little corn and bacon stuffed clam. Honestly, I couldn't taste a whole hell of a lot at that point, but it was delicious and most importantly....harmless.

Despite our waiter's attempts to dissuade us from ordering this next dish, personal liability waivers were signed by the whole table and before we could say, "More cole slaw please" the biggest challenge of the night was plunked down on the table. The Pasta from Hell. Made with the infamous ghost chile and constructed by the sadistic, gas mask wearing kitchen staff, this small bowl of pain was intimidating and proved to be as mean as advertised.

Look at all of the #@*^ing chilies!!

We all slowly twirled the pepper-saturated ribbons of pasta onto our quivering forks and took a bite. Instantly, I felt a rush of heat in my mouth and over the faint snickers in the distance from our waiter, chewed and swallowed. After a few minutes of shallow breathing, and gauging reactions across the table, I felt like a commercial for a drug that hadn't quite yet been perfected.

*Pasta from Hell should not be taken if you are pregnant, or plan on becoming pregnant. Some side effects could include:

- temperature changes ranging from 'rolling up sleeves' hot to 'is the air conditioning blowing right on me?' cold

- uncontrollable shaking

- the urge to curse

- digestive issues of biblical proportions

Do not try to operate heavy machinery after taking Pasta from Hell. You might not want to leave your apartment for a while either as Pasta from Hell's potency can last for quite sometime.

Big ups to Wendy for taking initiative and reaching for the ghastly pasta first and Rich for being the downright craziest for taking bite after bite. I'm not sure if there are enough yogurt cups or Rolaids in the world to extinguish what he must have gone through.

We hit the peak of the crescendo with the pasta, but the accompanying "Wings of Ass Destruction" were a bit feisty as well. Since there was actual taste and not just burn, I was able to tackle 3 of those little guys. A good choice at the time....not so much later.

By the time our main courses were dropped off, my taste buds were completely trashed. This proved to be a good thing though. The torched exterior of my tongue no longer picked up on the intense spices, but merely the amazingly diverse flavors of the Korean Fried Chicken Thigh with Peach Kimchee and the Jamaican-style Pork done 3 Ways.

For those of you keeping score at home, the number of bombs digested at Hell Night 2010.

3+8+3+7+9+4+7=41 bombs

All in all, the East Coast Grill and their staff did an amazing job of creating inventive fireball dishes, and hosting a completely idiotic, painful and awesome event. See you next time!

Minus the pasta though......

Chowin' down in Chile

As I have been back from my Chilean adventure for about three weeks now, I realize this post is long overdue. For roughly two weeks after I returned everything I ate in the states was mildly depressing. That's how wonderful the cuisine of this South American country treated me.


I fell in love with how this country eats at my first meal when one of the many toast condiments served to me at breakfast was the a dulce de leche type spread called Manjar. This creamy, milkly caramel spread was so good that I snuck a jar of it back on the plane with me. However, it's apparently simple to make by slow cooking condensed milk, a recipe I have every intention of trying soon.




My friend Dominique, who I've known since probably fifth or sixth grade was my tour guide as she has been living in Chile for the summer. I flew in to Santiago, but we soon headed to the port of Vailpairaso, where seafood is king and the vino tinto is cheap. At a rusty looking restaurant called La Playa we dined on fresh seafood. I opted for the fillet and ensalada, while Dominique ordered Chupe de Jaibas, a casserole made out of crab cakes. It is a classic Chilean dish that unfortunately I didn't indulge in, damn you crab allergy!

Filet con Ensalada of Avacado, lettuce, cabbage and potato salad

Chupe de Jaibas

Later we drank Chilean wine and went out for pisco sours. 


On our last night in Valpo, during a quick jaunt through the city we stopped and sampled sopapilla, which is basically fried bread. For a mere 30 cents, these little guys hit the spot. People line up left and right for one, dress it with hot sauce, ketchup or mustard and go on their merry way.

While our dining in Santiago and Pucon was enjoyable, the real treat came upon arrival at el Campo, or Rodrigo's farm. As a whole hearted advocate of local eating my last two days on the farm outside of Temuco were a dream come true. Breakfast consisted of eggs from the family hens, fresh baked bread made from wheat that Rodrigo's family grows on their land and local cheese.

The first night we arrived we ventured out in the truck to hunt for rabbits. Rodrigo drove, with a shotgun across his lap as Dom and I kept our eyes peeled for movement and cotton tails darting through the bushes. After a few failed attempts, Rodrigo jumped out of the truck on the dirt road and HIT..we got one. We took it back to the house, where he showed me how to skin the rabbit, which you have to do right away or else the skin sticks. It was surprisingly not very bloody. We let the rabbit soak in vinegar over night, which gets the grassy taste out. We cooked it in pig lard the next day, which produced a tender and meatier than any rabbit leg I've been served in a restaurant, earthy but not gamey.

Dominique and Rodrigo taught me all about eating off their land and how all the farmers share with neighbors for their local goods. Just weeks ago they killed and ate a pig from a neighbor. We ate more fresh bread with honey from combs that Rodrigo's family harvest next to their chicken coops. I told his mom about a recent article I read about New Yorkers harvesting honey on apartment rooftops in Brooklyn and she was astonished about the safety of keeping bees so close. The honey was grainy and chunky, and delicious. It didn't have a floral taste or aroma like the wildflower honey you get in the states. I kept going back to the honey bowl so much they offered to let me take some home. 

After a two day tour of the farm, including an early rise to feed the cows, horesback ride and walk through neighboring pastures, I spent my last night in Temuco enjoying an Asada of sheep ribs with Rodrigo and his brothers and sister who were visiting. The night, which included many bottles of vino tinto, piscos and cokes and this lovely array of appertifs was the perfect end to my Chilean culinary experience. 

I can't wait to go back! 

Slurping the Night Away at Brother's Crawfish

I love the idea of a labor intensive meal. Busting open blue crab in Maryland, tearing apart lobster claws on the Cape, dismantling a whole pig every Memorial Day at my parents' in Buffalo - the work that goes into manipulating shells, bones and guts to extract the perfect bite of food really transforms the every day task of eating into an memorable experience. It is on the opposite end of the spectrum from the faceless and mass produced fast food McWorld that we live in. After seeing a restaurant review for Brother's Crawfish in Dorchester a few months back, it immediately sounded like a place I needed to experience. With Kate being allergic to shellfish, I though this would be the perfect time to indulge in hive-free bliss while she was living the high life in Chile for the week.

Brother's Crawfish is an easy 5 minute walk from the Field's Corner Redline T stop at 272 Adams Street (at Lincoln Street). After showing up a bit late with my friend AJ, we were pleased to see that Matt and Mike checked the spot out and seeing they were BYOB, made an executive decision to hit up a local market for some cold beer. I should be late more often. I'm not sure the BYOB rule is advertised since we had to keep the bottles in the kitchen and they served us in styrofoam cups with ice, but looking back, it was absolutely the best way to enjoy them. Even though the menu was large enough to entertain choices, we didn't pay it any mind. We quickly ordered 5 lbs. of crawfish (1 cajun style, 2 asian fusion and 2 garlic and butter) along with corn, spuds and sausages on each.

After talking over the proper technique for getting the meat out of the shells, we were faced with 3 piping hot bowls of bright red crustaceans....it was go time. I have heard that the best flavor is hidden in the head/body portion of the crawfish, which contains no meat to speak of, but a combo of brain, guts, etc. After carefully twisting off the body portion from the tail, I attempted to test this theory. I think my slurp was a bit too aggressive, so along with all of the great taste, I received a snootful of the napalm sauce and dried spices. Needless to say, there was some coughing, streaming tears, and a very important lesson learned for the rest of the meal. Moving forward, I decided to crush the head portion under my teeth to get the flavor without macing myself with every passing slurp. Everything was delicious though. The sides were a great compliment and flavor/texture option from the mountains of crawfish, and the accompanying homemade hot sauce was perfect for dipping each little crawfish tail. By the end of the meal, our brows were covered in sweat, our fingers were shriveled and throbbing from the spice and the empty styrofoam cups carried the evidence of those burnt red fingers. Nothing a good hand washing and some frozen yogurt couldn't fix though.

Overall it was an amazing meal. Very inexpensive ($20 per person not including the beer), group friendly, and I can't wait to return and do it all over again!

Mary Chung Restaurant - 460 Massachusetts Ave.

Hopping off the 1 Bus near Central Square I just didn't have it in me to make a homemade meal, that and a recent power outage wiped out a significant amount of my perishable goods. Strolling down Mass Ave, all the options were laid out in front of me....Pizza, Middle Eastern, Asian, Pub Food, Liquid Dinner (most tempting of all)? Then it dawned on me, how about Chinese? My mind immediately switched gears from what to eat to where I was going to get some quality Chinese take out. I had passed Mary Chung Restaurant a ton of times, but had never even peered through the front window. After closer investigation - large tables of people were still finishing their meals around 9:30pm. A good sign - they were still open and people actually eat there. I peeked at the massive menu and chose 2 of my favorites, Fried Wontons and Spicy Eggplant. 10 minutes and I was on my way. It took every ounce of restraint in my body not to tear open that thick, brown paper bag and pull up a bench with the bums in Central Square, but I would just have made them jealous.....and violent most likely.

When I got home, even the white-hot temperature of the food didn't deter me from getting down to business. The first wonton was nice and crunchy and dipping sauce was a good, sweet compliment. Wait a minute....there's no filling. Maybe it's just this one. Nope. They gave me a bunch of crispy wontons carefully folded into a pocket-type shape filled with absolutely nothing. For $3.50, I expected at least a small ball of cheap pork and scallions, not a box of fried sheets that other restaurants give away free with soup. Strike one Mary.

The spicy eggplant was swimming in a oily pool that would make BP blush and was really over cooked. I'm usually fine with the spiced oil amount as long as it adds flavor and this eggplant really missed the spicy kick that Szechuan cooking is know for. Damn.

A totally unsatisfying meal to be honest. Maybe my expectations were too high, the chef was rushed with a late night order, I ordered the wrong thing, etc., etc. Sorry Mary, maybe next time.......

Fennel is a Flowin'

Fennel bulbs were among the share of vegetables in our most recent CSA share, and what's one to do with fennel?

I had only used fennel  once, in a an apple, pork chop roast that was quite delicious.  After googling fennel recipes and uses, I decided on a rendition of Fennel Rice Soup. Given our 90 degree plus weather here in Boston, why not? I apologize for the lack of photos but Fennel Rice Soup is entirely un photogenic. However, its bland appearance and color scheme doesn't do justice to this powerful flavor.

First I boiled 5 cups of chicken broth with the following:
- 4 crushed garlic cloves
- 1 tsp. crushed peppercorns
- 1 tsp. crushed fennel seeds

While the broth was infusing, I sauteed two diced onions and 2 diced fennel bulbs in some olive oil and then added the barley. Since I was out of white wine I improvised by mixing some leftover stock with a 1/4 cup of champagne vinegar, added the mixture to the rice/onion/fennel and cooked until the liquid was absorbed.

I strained out the seeds (left the garlic though...mmm) and poured the broth in. After a 20 min simmert his pot was ready to go. The infused broth made this light soup taste richer, while the champagne vinegar  provided a lemony taste.

KP

First Foray into Pork Belly

I have eaten pork belly for a while now in a myriad of styles. Smoked and cured, fried crispy, braised slow, served in piping hot soups, I have eaten it in a house, I have eaten it with a mouse, etc, etc. Why has it taken so long to buy a slab and actually cook it for myself? It is a super affordable cut of meat, it's easy to find at any respectable butcher shop, uh.....it's made of pork. What was I thinking? Maybe it was just an unfamiliarity with the cut that made me hedge a bit. So after researching a few recipes, I headed to my local purveyor of meat (Mckinnon's in Davis Square), bought a 1.5lbs rectangle of goodness (it cost less than $3 I think) and set off on my maiden voyage into the land of pork belly.

Peering in my cabinets, I didn't have the exact spices that aforementioned recipes called for, but as usual, I managed. Here's what I did:

First of all, I removed the leathery fat off of the top of the meat, patted it dry and cured the belly for 24 hours in the fridge. This allowed the flavors to penetrate the fat and meat.

I used:

2 tbsp of sugar

1 tbsp salt

1/2 tbsp fresh ground all spice

1/2 tbsp fresh ground coriander

After it spent a night in the box, I concocted a make-shift steamer and covered it tightly with aluminum foil. With a cup of rice wine vinegar keeping the belly moist and flavorful, it hung out in the oven at 350 degrees for about 45 minutes. I gave it one quick peek to make sure the liquid hadn't completely evaporated and received a nice vinegar facial for my efforts. Lovely......

The end result was a beautiful thing, but we weren't done yet. I let it rest to get it back to room temp before the next step. In a well oiled grill pan, 6 minutes per side was all it took to reach the perfect level of charred, crisp skin.

Watching it rest again was a torturous process because I knew I was only minutes from the first bite. The smells were right on though and the glistening layers of fat, meat and more fat were pretty as a picture.....see?

I chose to dine on the pork belly slices in a sandwich-style with some cherry-spiked ketchup (simply ketchup and a spoon of good cherry preserves thrown in) and some diced, pickled shallots. Absolute heaven on a bun.

I don't think I'll tinker with the cooking style , but I can't wait to switch up the spice blends and adornments to fancy this up for whoever swings by for dinner.

Picante - 735 Mass Ave.

After a lovely Thursday night filled with a handful of free cocktails, we were in desperate need of food.  I threw out what I thought were admirable suggestions - a quick, cheap dinner over in Chinatown perhaps?  Maybe some sushi, or some Middle Eastern fare at one of Cambridge's finest falafel huts?  One idea was shot down after the next.  Strangely from the beginning, I knew exactly what we were going to end up eating.....it was just a matter of where.  Kate has what some might call an obsession with nachos.  If they are on the menu, she'll order them (or convince others to order with her).  She'll pass it off as doing research to find the best combination of quality chips, mounds of toppings and oozing cheese in the city, but I see right through it.  She likes eating nachos.....'nuff said.

We decided on Picante in Central Square.  It's a nice little Mexican Restaurant a few doors down from the Central Square T stop.  Never being there before, I was very pleased to see some nice seating areas (even though more people at that time were ordering take out), a fresh salsa bar and Pacifico Beer cooling in their fridge.  Kate went for the super nachos with additional grilled mushrooms and zucchini.  I went for the steak burrito.  The burrito was average.   The best part was definitely the warm tortilla, but the filling was a bit too heavy on rice and beans.  The nachos were clearly superior.

The guacamole was creamy and actually tasted of avocados.  The chips seemed homemade as well, which is so much better than 'fresh from the Frito Lay bag' treatment you might get at a number of neighborhood bars.  With the heaps of toppings, it was definitely a filling meal and the veggies made it a great option if you aren't in the mood for meat.  Don't worry all of you carnivores out there, as I'm sure they would happily cover your mountain of nachos with tender, grilled steak or any protein-packed topping you want.

We also tested 5 of their homemade salsa.  So every bite was filled with options......all of them delicious.

From Left to Right:
-Picante Sauce
-A similar version of the picante with more of a vinegar spike
-Chipotle Sauce (probably our favorite)
-Spicy, chunky tomato salsa
-Salsa Fresca (with tons of fresh cilantro)


These sauces alone are enough to for me to give another visit to Picante, order some chips, a cold bottle of Mexican beer and dig in.

-A

Happy Cows

I've toyed with the idea of becoming a vegetarian lately, mostly because in the past few years I've read mounds of literature on the practices of factory farming and how detrimental factory farmed animals are to our health. While I find it hard to give up meat entirely, I absolutely adore the idea of eating only locally and humanely-raised animals.

Luckily Massachusetts abounds with family run farms providing just that.

Farmers market season started about a month ago here in the Boston area. I came across the Kendall Square market one Wednesday in late May and picked up a few pounds of grass-fed beef short ribs from Springdell Farms. The family farm in Littelton's  "Happy Cows Come From Littleton" sign was a major selling point.

After being on multiple vacations for a few weeks, Adam and I got a chance to make them last week.

Our Sunday dinner also coincided with our first Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) share of the season from Red Fire Farm, so we went uber local.

We started out with scape pesto on flatbread. Scapes, which are the stalk part of a garlic bulb, are all over the place. They're only available for about a month in the early summer season. Pesto seemed like the best bet. Most scape pesto recipes advise a strait scape, oil, parmesan and nut mixture, but we through in a ton of basil because garlic scapes are strong. Even with basil I still tasted garlic for the next 24 hours.

As a side dish to our main course we used one of the unique items in our CSA share, Kohlrabi. Kohlrabi is a cross between a turnip and a cabbage, and it's sweet, crunchy and delicious. We sliced the sucker up into julienne sized sticks, mixed it with apples cut the same way, and tossed the sticks with a dressing made of yogurt, mustard and seasoning.

Once considered a second-class cut of beef, short ribs are experiencing quite a rise in popularity.  It seems that they are on every menu from pubs to upscale French bistros.  Even though we used the commonplace braising technique that makes the meat so tender and allows the high fat content and bone to make a rich, flavorful sauce, we used some out of place ingredients to make it unique.

The marinade consisted of freshly brewed coffee, honey, tomato paste and oregano (also from the CSA).  Just dipping a finger in and I knew we had a winner.  After browning the meat and deglazing with the marinade, we topped up the pot with beef stock, some chipotle peppers with adobo, then cooked it slow and low for a few hours.  The combination of earthy coffee, rich beef flavor and a spicy tomato kick worked awesome.  Each bite of the short rib was unbelievably juicy because of all the marbling throughout the meat (see above).    

Eating local has never looked and tasted this good.......

- A + K

From your other author..

I grew up in Southern California with a nutritionist mother and a father whose culinary repertoire is based on the Costco freezer section. Over the years, I developed a deep appreciation for almost every type of vegetable (I miss how inexpensive they are in back in CA.) I’ll go for a plate of nachos any day of the week, and think bacon and truffles are overrated.

The first time Adam cooked for me, he helped me discover that I had developed a hive-producing crab allergy. The first time I bought Adam sushi, he spent the night with the porcelain goddess. We spend most of our time cooking for and with each other, or making our way the eateries of Boston and beyond.

We thought a blog about food, in particular about Adam and Kate, plus [what we] ate, sounded like fun. Hope you enjoy, and Bon Appetit!

- Kate

A Few Words from your Author(s)

After growing up in the hot sauce drenched and deep fried glory of Buffalo, New York, I gained my foodie chops on the other end of the state in Brooklyn. Under the spirited tutelage of the Thursday Club NYC, I learned that excess is not only alright, but expected at times and taking longer to prepare a meal than to eat it is okay.

Morphing into a food-obsessed person I am today has been a tremendous journey, but a glutton's work is never done. Now in living Cambridge, I aim to take advantage of Boston's culinary landscape to explore new locations, foods and experiences while keeping myself well fed in the process.

What makes this particular blog different from the million of others who post long-winded odes to the virtues of pork fat or shamelessly take pictures of their plates in restaurants? Not a whole lot to be honest.....but that being said, I still hope you enjoy our highly opinionated restaurant reviews, stunning photography, ground-breaking recipes and fascinating stories of the experiences that we share.

-Adam