I’m not gonna lie. This isn’t a gourmet dish that came about through many moons of research and testing. It was birthed when its parents, desperation and craving, met late one night in a refrigerator half-stocked with vegetables my mother has never heard of and more booze than I would ever care to tell her about. We all know that chance encounters sometimes don’t work out, but on that night, desperation and craving were at the right place at the right time. It was love at first sight.

Desperation wanted to use all of the ingredients in the kitchen that were on their last legs. Craving wanted nothing more than a giant bowl of wiggly spaetzle — the same spaetzle that caused a young culinary student (ahem) to hide in a corner of the kitchen storeroom while shoveling it into her mouth with her bare hands.

Together, desperation and craving created a meal with echoes of that curious day when three-quarters of the spaetzle mysteriously disappeared from the Culinary Arts 122 class. Only this time, there was broccoli rabe, prosciutto and toasted pine nuts to share the spotlight. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

Read the rest of this entry »

Hey all! Here’s my latest installment of “Food 101,” which was published in The Orange County Register today.
***
Now that the Superbowl is right around the corner, how about treating your friends and family to a super appetizer along with those obligatory chips, dip and wings?

Crab-stuffed mushrooms only look difficult to make. A large tray with an army of mini sized appetizers, each little soldier with a browned, bubbling cheese crust only suggests that you’ve painstakingly slaved over them for days. Really, the most work you’ve done is chop up some vegetables and spoon filling into some mushroom caps.

Don’t let the ingredient list intimidate you, either. The bulk of it is just vegetables and cheeses that you will cook and mix together in a large bowl. All of these ingredients can be found in your neighborhood supermarket, even the jarred crab meat (check the fresh seafood display).

And if you really want to impress your friends, make sure to grab some lemons while at the store. Ever wonder why lemon wedges are served alongside fish? It’s because their tartness brightens the subtle, sweet flavors in seafood. You can experiment for yourself: Once the stuffed mushrooms have cooled slightly, pop one in your mouth and observe the taste: it’s good, right? Now sprinkle some lemon juice on a second stuffed mushroom and munch on that. Pow! Flavors are instantly enhanced, and you can really taste that crab.

For this recipe, you will need a large bowl, large frying or sauté pan, and a baking pan – maybe two. You can also prepare the filling a day ahead of time. Just make sure to refrigerate and cover with plastic wrap. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

Read the rest of this entry »

Oh, my.

So it’s been a little over a month since we’ve had the official taste test of this Jones Tofurkey and Gravy soda. That’s mainly because, in the back of my mind, I’ve spent this entire time trying to come up with the adjectives to do it justice. I still haven’t fully come to terms with my experience, so please bear with me as I scrape the bottom of this barrel for the phrases necessary to convince you to never, ever try this soda.

But no matter what I say, you’re just going to try it anyhow. I know from experience: When you’re in a position to take a sip, curiosity over this trainwreck-in-a-bottle will get the best of you. But that’s OK. It’s all in good fun.

Jones dreams up these limited-edition soda flavors and sells them every year right around the holidays. A Turkey & Gravy soda made its debut in 2003, and other flavors followed almost every year after that, most notably 2004’s Mashed Potato soda and 2007’s Christmas Ham soda. I have no doubt that Tofukey & Gravy will return for Holiday 2010, because it’s got appeal to people who used to get a kick out of eating things their friends dared them to. Which is almost everybody, I think. Oh, and it’s vegan. That scores Jones some points from those who don’t partake in the holiday poultryfest.

So when you go to the Jones Web site to place your order, there are a couple of strategically placed red flags, all of which you will ignore. The first is the soda’s tagline, which reads in exaggerated sans-serif font, “Soda you can chew on.” Has anyone ever really wanted that?

The second warning is a turkey holding a sign that reads “Turkey approved.” But look closer: this turkey is absolutely terrified. If you Photoshopped a gun to its head, it would resemble a possible hostage situation. Its blue eyes are almost pleading with you to go back from whence you came. But you won’t listen. You’ll place an order, and the box will arrive on your doorstep fairly quickly. Just in time for a party, where you and your bravest friends will pass the bottles around in a circle and compare stinky faces after you take your first sips. “Ugggh,” “Whoah…eghh” and two octaves worth of gurgling noises soon follow the slightly sweet and overall rancid flavor of gravy, diluted Dimetapp and artificial sweeteners.  Hey, the turkey warned you. Sorta.

The best thing out of the whole deal was the collector’s metal lunch box the soda came with — but even then, I didn’t feel right about keeping it because it had a cute little cartoon depicting an animated wad of Tofurkey at the circus. I dislike both Tofurkey and the circus. Wait, why did I want to try this soda again?

Photo credits: Turkey and lunchbox photos are from Jonessoda.com.

Hey all:

Please forgive me for the obvious plug you’re about to read, but I just can’t contain my excitement. (Plus, a little horn-tootin’ never hurts in moderation.)

So: The California Strawberry Commission this week launched its iPhone app featuring 50 recipes from chefs and fellow bloggers. One of my recipes is included (toot!). There’s all kinds of stuff in there ranging from cocktails to desserts, and some of the recipes featured come from some of my favorite bloggers like Cookin’ Canuck, Michael Ruhlman and Ravenous Couple. It’s great to be included in a group with bloggers I personally hold in high esteem.

I hope you can check it out! Click on this link to open iTunes on your computer and download. 

Regular posting resumes next week. Good weekends to all, and thank you for reading.

There once was a Le Creuset pot,
Whose insides were blackened a lot,
When a cook disregarded
To stir constantly when prompted –
Please learn from her: stir more often than not!

You and I both know that candymaking requires way more attention than say, a casserole or whatever you cook in that Set-it-and-Forget-it Ronco thing you got for Christmas. I don’t have to tell you that. But I do have to tell me that.

It’s what I like to call Recipe Performance Fatigue. After making a recipe a dozen times, you start to get a little lazy with it. Ingredients are skipped, corners are cut. The beauty of cooking is that most of the time, your dish will still be fabulous despite the RPF tendencies you gravitated toward while making it. But candymaking doesn’t have room for all that corner-cutting. This is especially true when you’re making caramels and are dealing with sugar that boils and bubbles like the contents of an active Hawaiian volcano.

RPF is how I skipped the part about “stirring constantly,” ultimately leading to the stubborn black circle of carbon lining the bottom of my beloved enameled pot.

But I will say that the Le Creuset pot’s demise wasn’t in vain. For one, I’ve been scrubbing and soaking it for a couple of weeks and it seems to be slowly helping in lifting out the blackened mess. And to my surprise, the batch of caramels set up beautifully, glistening and cracking in all the right places when you cut them. And they were lacking any foul taste that would hint at my kitchen debacle. It was a Christmas miracle, so much so that I had to sprinkle them with fleur de sel — delicate flakes and tiny cubes that would come as close to snow as Southern California would allow. RPF, eat your heart out! Now, back to scrubbing my pot.

(Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

Read the rest of this entry »

Let’s take a look back at the year in food, shall we? Here are just a few of my favorite links from 2009. 

It was destined centuries ago that 2009 would be the Year of the Ox, but you could have fooled me. Another four-legged animal seemed to dominate – in fact, the same one that dominated 2008. Pig was everywhere. 2008 was also a good year for pigs, but the animal’s staying power seems almost herculean. I mean, swine flu? Though they say you can’t catch H1N1 from pigs, the unfortunate naming of the influenza strain didn’t ease our demand one bit. We still love bacon. Long live. 

When this 2006 NY times story ran about Amazon.com selling Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gallon, 128 fl. oz, there were a few hundred comments on Amazon. Flash forward three years, and the comments have steadily grown to more than 1,100. (For those keeping track, Tuscan milk is the OG, coming way before this year’s Three Wolf Moon craze.) What I love? You can waste all kinds of precious time on Amazon reading about how peoples’ lives have changed worldwide over Italian milk. The latest comment is an expertly written poem that echoes of Poe’s “Raven.”: 

“Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts ‘N Honey, 
With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore 
As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door. 
‘Bad condensor, that,’ I muttered, ‘vibrating the icebox door - 
Only this, and nothing more.’” Read more here. 

Then there’s Nick from Foodie at Fifteen, who elfed himself into a Christmas hip-hop music video with Eric Ripert, Thomas Keller and Michael Ruhlman. Totally genius. 

Anthony Bourdain writes an Op-Ed piece for the Times, pinpointing 2007 as the year that put food and chefs on the map.

After Conde Nast announced Gourmet’s demise, I kept waiting for somebody — anyone — to announce they  were buying the mag and reviving it from its deathbed. It was wishful thinking on my part, but I’m not alone. Tributes and farewells popped up everywhere, including Thank You Gourmet, a site with sweet memories and tweets about the mag. 

After five years of trying, Adam of The Amateur Gourmet finally scores a reservation to El Bulli. It’s a lively post with all kinds of photos that seat you right at his table. 

Mobile food, paired with Twitter, exploded this year. Here’s hoping 2010 will continue the trend of restaurants bringing the food to us, or at least meeting us halfway. 

And lastly, I’d like to add to Bon Appetit’s Best of 2009 list by saying that this was the season for homemade gifts. Given the economy and the spike in food interest, everyone seemed to be giving homemade delights as gifts. Check out jam and cookies from the Chickenless Kitchen, a slew of Christmas goodies from Naturally Ella, Christina Eats’ chocolate covered pretzels, La Fuji Mama’s chocolate dipped caramels and homemade vanilla extract from the Italian Dish. 

And here are your top picks from my little slice of the Internet. These most-viewed posts on Furey & the Feast have a lot to do with brulee-ing and satisfying those sweet cravings. Starting in 2010, I’ll aim to give you a weekly double-dose of F&F, posting twice a week. 

1. Strawberries in bruleed marshmallow creme
2. A memory, bruleed
3. Bread pudding with chocolate and cinnamon
4. Like Home (Nutella brownies)
5. Gimme S’more (s’mores cupcakes)
6. Chocolate pots de creme, chocolate mousse
7. A Viet Hapa tackles (authentic) Vietnamese pho
8. Go for Croque
9. March Madness: Taylor’s Refresher
10. Green, velvety bliss

A safe and happy new year to all!

– Cynthia Furey

A few weeks ago, I stumbled upon Drop In & Decorate, a fantastic concept dreamed up by Rhode Island-based food writer Lydia Walshin. The idea is that you have a party and set up a station for people to decorate cookies for the charity of your choice.

So I had a Christmas potluck last weekend with Drop In & Decorate as a focus. I supplied the booze and blank-canvas cookies, and my friends each brought a dish and their labor. As you can see from these photos, I’ve got some pretty talented friends — all whom have steady decorating hands and imagination to boot. There was a whole smorgasbord of royal icing, sprinkles and edible spray colors. All in all, 30 people dropped in to decorate 120 cookies (and, you know, to eat and booze it up).

Our charity of choice was the Ronald McDonald Family Room and House in Orange, Calif. The programs put in place at the family room and house allow for families to stay close to their children who are undergoing treatment at the hospital, which is just across the street. Some of these children are in there for weeks, and the House acts as a second home to their families.

The cookies would be served at a Christmas party the House was throwing for current and past families who’ve stayed with them over the years. Thanks to my friends who came to my potluck to spread some Christmas cheer to these families. If you’re thinking about throwing your own event, visit this link. It’ll tell you everything you need to know.

Hope you all had a great Christmas, and that the warm fuzzies and love continue on into the New Year!

– Cynthia Furey

I have in my kitchen what one local chef tells me is “the kiss of death.”

“An electric range?” she asks. “How do you ever get anything done with one of those contraptions?”

Well, I told her, it’s getting easier. But it’s still an uphill battle.

Moving from my previous apartment meant leaving the luxury and reliable power of gas, where everything cooked evenly and the oven temperature was always spot-on. What a dream that was.

Now I’ve got this shifty nightmare with hardened coils in place of those glowing rings of blue flames.

Simple tasks, like using the broiler to brown things like garlic bread and Croque Monsieur, are super tricky. This broiler gets points for reaching temperature at the drop of a hat, yet it’s one hell of an overachiever, blackening everything in its path within a matter of seconds. How odd that the familiar scent of garlic, butter and bread turns to that other familiar odor of char and carbon the minute you turn your back to the stove. Kiss of death, indeed.

This is why I say thank goodness for blowtorches.

Though one can toast garlic bread without a broiler under normal oven settings, the drama of literally taking matters into your own hands is kind of therapeutic when your counter is lined with pans of blackened oblong shadows of the meal accompaniments they once were.

A blowtorch means angry flames shooting out of your fingertips to match the anger in your heart every time you pull a charred one from the broiler. It means victory.

So maybe I’m not skilled enough for the technology of an electric range yet, and maybe I have a bit of an inner pyro. But despite the kiss of death, I do have my garlic bread. (Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.) Read the rest of this entry »