Clafou-what?! Klah-foo-tee.

Part 3 of my July cocktail series featuring thirst-quenching libations every Wednesday this month. Glug, glug, glug, glug…

Part 2 of my July cocktail series featuring thirst-quenching libations every Wednesday this month. Glug, glug, glug, glug…

No crazy musings here, folks. Just a classic case of “Girl meets peas. Girl cooks peas”.

He called me last week at 5pm on a Thursday afternoon from work and said, “Can you make a cake for 15 people for tomorrow?” Uh, err, umm…sure?!

Ever heard of them? Me neither.

Has it really been 23 days since my last post?!? “Bad blogger! Tsk tsk tsk!” (as I scold myself and wiggle my index finger from side to side). It has been quite a frenetic month with packing and moving and unpacking again. But we’re happy to finally sit back and enjoy our new home!

An inspired dish from the creative chefs at Buddakan.

My very first and successful attempt at one of my favorite classic Filipino treats. An interesting amalgamation of flavors, bibingka fuses together a simple rice flour cake with coconut milk, salted eggs and cream cheese.

One of my favorite parts about going on vacation is the challenge to use all our perishable ingredients in order to avoid coming home to radioactive mutant produce with fur and legs. Kiwi was one of them.

Alas, my very first Filipino recipe. With a twist, nonetheless. And a bon voyage to us!

Years ago, I saw a similar dessert on a menu at a restaurant. Sadly, my inhibition of slaughtering the classy pronunciation trumped my desire for this tiny jar of goodness. Lesson learned. So say it with me now: po – de – krem. Not: pots – day – cream.

While most women get hot and heavy over French designer labels such as Chanel, Louis Vuitton or Christian Lacroix, my heart skips a beat for a different kind of haute couture. Frankly, I’m quite appalled that it wasn’t seen on the designer runways last month.

Our trip to Costa Rica is T-minus 32 days. We have to conquer 2 volcanoes, climb a mountain at 3800m (12,467 ft. for my fellow Americans), survive in the rainforest and dive 20m down into the ocean. So yeah, we’re remotely trying to eat healthy and shape up.

The second day of February is a religious holiday the French call la Chandeleur – a feast to commemorate the purification of the Virgin Mary. There are several traditions surrounding this holiday so sit back, eat a crêpe and soak in a little more culture.

Better late than never. This past Friday was in fact, National Blueberry Pancake Day according to Bon Appétit magazine. Apparently my biological foodie clock is almost in sync because I already had plans to make this for our Sunday brunch.

Oooops! I did it again. It’s like an abusive relationship that you can’t leave because it’s THAT good. You know what I’m talking about. Oh sweet Chinatown.

I was a young foodie padawan when I started my first job in the restaurant industry. California Pizza Kitchen was my Yoda. For three years, I waited on tables, silently learning and developing my palate. This was my favorite dish, and it was my destiny to conquer it.

My best friend has once again teased me about my multi-syllabic meals but this is coming from a guy who has no problems eating tuna straight out of the can. So I dedicate this recipe to my BFF of  18 years.

This is a tale of my love/hate relationship with Chinatown.

Filled with tears, blood shed and triumph, this entry has all the makings of a blockbuster thriller. I bet you didn’t realize french onion soup could be so exciting.

Alas, a real deal manly meal! No truffle oil, no hollandaise, no puff pastry. It doesn’t have any fancy French words thrown in like mousse, roulade or frisée. Just a good ol’ hearty meal after a long day in the fields, harvesting wheat in your tractor (is that what you even use a tractor for???).

I was a late bloomer. The California roll was my idea of sushi. Meanwhile, all my trendy friends ordered sashimi. I was determined not to let some squishy, raw fish bring me down. I wanted to be cool and look at me now!

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amore…

Talk about culture shock. It was only his second week away from his motherland, a place that boasts over 3,000 varieties of cheese. At the high-pitched sound of a beeeeeeeeeeep, a tiny bowl of gooey flourescent orange food emerged from the microwave. Welcome to AM-ER-ICAAAA!

Bonne année et bonne santé! It’s been a hectic month with all the baking, gift-wrapping, train rides and weekends away from home. Our apartment is in dire need of a disaster relief task force to finally get things back in tip top shape. But first, I need to divulge our recent addiction to quack.

This post is dedicated to the two furry, four-legged loves of my life. Meanwhile, the two-legged love of my life is probably snooping around the kitchen trying to sneak a bite of these pupcakes. All three of them have a lot in common. They eat everything.

The inspiration to many of our culinary musings, his mother has given us countless recipes from her own archives. En français, of course. I hope one day I won’t mistakenly put ground beef in a mousse au chocolat recipe… “Oh! It said œuf (egg)? Not bœuf (beef)?!”

If peppermints were animals, they would probably go into extinction due to all the peppermint consumption around the holidays. So it’s a good thing they’re not because I’ve been using an awful lot of them in my recipes lately.

Godiva white chocolate liqueur with swirls of peppermint schnapps – for those who prefer to drink their dessert.

As they say in France, “jamais deux sans trois” – never two without three. So I present to you the third of my recent crumble obsession. I wanted one last chance to jump on the pumpkin bandwagon before the holidays were over. And this is such an easy recipe. Trust me.

As I bit into my dessert, memories of this past summer came flooding back. A refreshing jaunt along the Basque coastline with his father and sister. Up and down the cliffside with views of San Sebastien in the near distance. And a rewarding lunch of tagine followed by his mom’s delicious berry crumble.

I woke up Saturday morning with a sudden epiphany. I still had a package of leftover dried cranberries that was the forgotten love child from my curry chicken salad recipe. It was time to put an end to its misery from the back corner of our pantry.

Eat. Drink. Be merry! The ultimate recipe for a joyful holiday season. You didn’t think we could get through this season without any alcohol, did you?

An entire meal that was invented for  people who like to sleep in on a weekend. A meal that says “Sure! Go ahead and have a few cocktails with your eggs and bacon!”. The one meal where you won’t be considered an alcoholic for boozing it up before noon. So what’s not to love about [...]

Sounds fancy. Looks fancy. Hence, it’s probably too complicated to make it yourself. I always assumed I’d be better off ordering it from a restaurant than causing a tornado of cocoa powder, mascarpone cheese and lady fingers in our kitchen as I sit defeated in a puddle of espresso.