by Laurelin

The internet. It’s everywhere, connecting everything all the time. People don’t need to shop outside the house anymore, you can just order whatever you want from the internet and have it delivered. Clothes, shoes, groceries and…men? I have been aware of internet dating for a few years now, and I always turned up my nose at the thought of it. Seriously, if you can’t get out into the world and meet and connect with someone on your own than you probably should stop trying.

That’s an ignorant thing to say, I’m acutely aware of that now. Not everyone is [un] lucky enough to be in bars every night where members of the opposite sex are foaming at the mouth and leaving phone numbers scribbled on beer soaked cocktail napkins. But the other day I got to thinking. Maybe I have been going about this all wrong. I know I tend to meet the same type of guy over and over again at bars: young party types with more muscles than brains. Internet dating, while a product of a technological world, seems to take dating back to basics: conversation and actually getting to know someone.

After a talk with a girlfriend about her experiences in the world on online dating, I wound up joining a site that was basically just another app for my iPhone. My girlfriends and I started off my just browsing the guys just like we would online shop. Look at this one, ooooh, look at that one, he’s tall, cute, this one has a good job, this one has pictures of his cat. It was quite addicting. Soon we were getting a few messages a day and spending nights at work reading them and giggling. People have no shame online; some of the messages were dirty, some had poetry, some were simple and to the point. Some actually made me laugh, and one day I found myself replying, and before I knew it I was getting to know this… stranger.

He was nothing like me, and was like no one I would ever normally meet in a bar. Messaging back and forth online, we got to know a little about one another, answering questions that should have come out right away with other boyfriends but that never came up while we were too busy chugging beer and sleeping in. Then this guy asked the inevitable question– want to meet in person? I froze. I don’t know. Was it safe? I HATE DATING. I don’t even like going on dates with people I sort of know. As social of a person as I am, just the though of an actual date with someone I’m trying to get to know is more terrifying than bungee jumping into the grand canyon.

I took a breath and clicked reply. “Yes,” I said. “Let’s meet for coffee.” (Coffee?! Coffee?! It’s not beer!! What do I do?!) So we did. The day before Thanksgiving I found myself sitting in a coffee shop in Harvard Square, awaiting a stranger. He came, and he was just like his pictures. Tall, cute, and so nice. He was in grad school and had just moved to Boston, we came from similar families and while there was sometimes a lull in the conversation we managed to get through about an hour before deciding to part ways. I have never been more proud of myself, thinking outside the box and making myself take a leap into the unknown to try something new and scary.

I don’t think that the whole experience was exactly for me, but I did learn that I can see why it’s for a lot of people. It makes a lot of sense now, and it’s kind of nice to know that in the future should I want to meet someone new I can always try it again. But for now, I gratefully turn back to my safe bar scene, and the comforts of a fully stocked bar to help me get through conversation. I don’t think I want to date anyone for a while, whether in the digital or the analogue. The guys I meet normally, the young and muscled, the hipsters, the career bartenders, they are what I need right now. They’re all helping me get over a heartbreak that, after trying to date someone new, I’ve come to realize is still a bit too fresh. I need some more time I guess, and probably another martini…

[..]

by Jensen

So, you may or may not remember, but a little while back I did a blog on here with Chris a.k.a. Ocell (of FoodWeChew.com/) about bagel making. Well, we decided to have a reunion and make doughnuts! We are both big fans of breakfast pastries. And holes. And breakfast pastries with holes. So we made some. I liked making blogs with Chris because A) he usually makes things while I just stand around and take pictures/throw in commentary and B) he is precise and by-the-book with cooking and I’m scattered and more willing to try things that will potentially turn out fucked up but could also turn out amazing. Actually, I think I’m like that with most aspects of life. But anyway, we’re the good cop/bad cop of cooking.

He found this recipe on AllRecipes.com and we only changed one thing. We also halved the recipe, which you can easily do at AllRecipes automatically.

What You’ll Need

Doughnut Ingredients:

• 2 (.25 ounce) envelopes active dry yeast
• 1/4 cup warm water (105 to 115 degrees)
• 1 1/2 cups lukewarm milk
• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2 eggs
• 1/3 cup bacon grease
• 5 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 quart vegetable oil for frying

Icing Ingredients:

Preparation:

So we start to put together all of the ingredients and Chris goes, “I don’t think I have shortening. What is shortening?” And I tilt my head to the side and say, “Whaaaaaa? You really don’t know? Do you know what Crisco is?” I was literally amazed. It made me realize how much of a fatty I am for being so extremely familiar with Crisco. We ponder for a second and Chris says, “Do you think bacon grease will work?” And I say, “YES. BACON GREASE WILL WORK.” And he pulls a fucking jar of bacon grease out of his fridge, like this is a normal thing to have lying around. And thus, bacon doughnuts were created.

To start, you just mix the yeast and water in a bowl. We were a bit worried about this because his yeast was a little old and it didn’t get super fizzy like the recipe said, but it turned out fine in the end. After this is done you mix in the rest of the ingredient (sans the flour), then slowly add the flour in. I tried to knead the dough with my hands and it was a sticky disaster (another thing that had us worrying that the doughnuts weren’t going to turn out), but then he kneaded (well, sort of kneaded) it together with a wooden spoon and it turned into that nice texture we were looking for.

After the dough is a nice firm, fluffy looking texture, you let it rise for a bit. I don’t remember the exact amount of time; just wait for that shit to get nice and puffy.

Once the dough is puffy, you roll it into a long rod (I’m having bagel déjà vu here and feel like I shouldn’t recycle the “rod” job I definitely remember using last time). You’re supposed to use a doughnut punch (cookie cutter looking thing), but who the heck has a doughnut punch? We just stretched them into circleish squares, and they turned out just fine.

This is just a recipe break to post a picture of my second favorite cat, Chris’s kitty. SO. FUCKING. CUTE.

Mix all of the icing ingredients together over heat. The icing starts out looking really gross and sickly, but it turns into the super sexy sugary pile of awesomeness. Don’t freak out when it starts out all chunky and gross!

So you fry up the doughnuts until they’re golden brown, then slather them in that sexy icing you just made. Leave them on a rack to cool/let the icing harden. If you want to get crazy, you can put another layer of icing on them after the first layer is dry. That’s your call, bro.

They weren’t the prettiest things in the world, but they were super delicious! You could taste a very faint bacon flavor. Not overpowering, just a little bit of smokiness. For a first try at doughnut making, I’d say we did a pretty fucking good job.

I ate the fuck out of a doughnut.

So moral of the story, a lot of things didn’t go exactly as planned with our doughnut making extravaganza, but they still turned out super delicious. So if you’re worried about trying them out, don’t be! Because I’m pretty sure anything full of bacon and butter and sugar and carbs is going to turn out fucking amazing. That’s the last blog Chris will be working on with me (I mean, unless you guys can come up with more breakfast pastries with holes), so say bye and give him a big thank you :]

[..]

by Ryker Suicide

This is my VERY coveted recipe for Chicken Enchiladas. I have kept it to myself long enough…time to release it into the world 🙂 I serve each enchilada on a bed of shredded lettuce, topped with a favorite combination of garnishes (this can include your favorite salsa, sour cream, diced jalapenos or your favorite pepper, and of course, fresh cilantro!), and sided with black beans and Spanish rice. This recipe serves 8. Typically I only cook for 2-4 so I always save half of the filling and freeze it for a quick and easy dinner for later! Also, left over enchiladas are great for breakfast served over lettuce and eggs! Enchiladas con juevos anyone? Nom nom nom….

Ingredients Tacos:

• 1 can of black beans
• Lime juice
• 1 bundle of fresh cilantro
• 1 can of diced tomatoes/peppers
• 4-5 cloves fresh garlic
• 1 lb of chicken thighs or breast (I prefer thighs because they are so tender and pull easy, but breast is good too)
• 1 can of enchilada sauce
• 1 28 oz can stewed tomatoes
• 5 green chilis (finely diced)
• 4 chipotle peppers soaked in adobe sauce (also finely diced)
• 2-4 tablespoons of adobe sauce from peppers (to TASTE, this sauce is a little on the spicy side. I tend to go overboard with it. I figured a normal person would use about half of what I use haha!)
• 1 red or yellow onion (your preference, I like it both ways)
• Ground cumin, salt, pepper, taco seasoning
• Shredded cheese-Mexican blend
• Corn tortillas (about 16 or so)
• Spanish rice
• Sour cream
• Your favorite salsa – I think a fresh goes best with this dish
• Shredded lettuce
• Flour (for dredging)

Preparation:
1) Pat chicken dry to ensure even browning. Season with salt/pepper/cumin. Dredge in a blend of taco seasoning and flour. Brown evenly on each side in large sauté pan coated with olive oil until cooked through. Sprinkle a bit of taco seasoning, cumin, and garlic powder while browning. Remove chicken from pan, set aside to cool.

2) In the same pan sauté diced onion, ensuring to scrape up any yummy brown chicken bits left in the pan. Once onions are just translucent, add 2-3 cloves of garlic (minced!) and sauté for 45 seconds or until deliciously fragrant. Add finely diced peppers, sauté for another minute. Add stewed tomatoes and cook for another 3 minutes or so, breaking up the tomatoes as you do this so they aren’t in such huge chunks. Turn heat down and pull chicken, then return chicken to pan allowing it to simmer a few minutes. Add a bit of adobe sauce to taste. Then sprinkle entire mixture with flour to allow it to set. You can add a bit of taco seasoning too if you think it needs more flavor.

3) In a large casserole dish add a nice full ladle of enchilada sauce to cover bottom of dish. Fill corn tortillas** with chicken mixture, sprinkle with some cheese, roll and set in dish. Repeat until dish is full. Then ladle remaining enchilada sauce over enchiladas and top with loads of yummy cheese until covered. Bake at 350 until cheese is melted and JUST BEGINNING to brown.

While enchiladas are baking, make up a batch of Spanish rice, add a bit of cumin and any other seasonings to spice it up to your taste. While the rice is cooking, you can start on the beans.

First sauté about a quarter to a half of a yellow onion in a pan until onions are tender and translucent, add 2 cloves minced garlic and sauté until aromatic. Then add beans and mix well. Then add a few squirts of lime juice (to taste) and about a half of a can or so of diced tomatoes/peppers. You can also add some green chilis here too if you’d like, I usually do. Then throw in as much chopped fresh cilantro as you’d like. I go heavy – I love cilantro. Again, this is to taste. Let beans simmer on low to keep warm until enchiladas are ready, which they should be about now 🙂

I serve two enchiladas over a bed of shredded lettuce, with beans and rice on either side. I top the enchiladas with salsa, sour cream, diced scallions (optional), and fresh cilantro. You can also top with fresh diced jalapenos! Get creative 🙂

**Hint: when using corn tortillas, it helps to heat them in the microwave for 30-60 seconds to make them warm and pliable since they will crumble less.

[..]

by Laurelin

The holidays are upon us. Halloween is over, and even with the turkey worshipping holiday only a few days away I find the world around me skipping over the gluttony and jumping right into the greed of the Christmas season. It’s everywhere: the commercials on TV, the lights going up all around my beautiful city, and my roommate bringing home scented candles that fill the house with the scent of peppermint and evergreen. I can’t help but feel a bit like the Grinch when his heart grew and burst out of that little metal box– I love this time of year. It makes me hopeful, the end of the year. Gathered with family, ready with friends to start a new year, a better year.

“It’s boyfriend season,” my friend Lindsay said the other night. We were appropriately perched at my bar just as I had gotten off of work, my ex having taken over for me. Sundays are weird, us working together. We need to be friends, so I stay even when my shift is through. I glanced up at him quickly, our eyes meeting for an awkward fleeting moment as I flashed back to Lindsay, nodding and clutching my pint of beer. My knuckles were white around the glass and I thought it might break. It didn’t. Neither did I. God, every minute here is like an hour, trying to not look like an asshole, trying not to just run screaming from the room. Winter is more like ex-boyfriend season. I seem to be on a roll starting the holidays on my own year after year. How festive.

Even with a few failures looming over my head I always feel lucky this time of year as well, impossibly lucky to have such an amazing family who supports me in everything I do. Never a word from my parents about who I was dating now and how it inevitably ended. Not a word about why I chose bartending, or why I chose writing. They know I chose a hard life, but one that makes me happy. I don’t have a husband or children to bring to Thanksgiving dinner or a lot of money in my bank account for retirement, I don’t have that amazing sense of style that my cousins have, the one that always makes me feel like I’m playing dress up no matter how nice I thought I looked when I left the house. I don’t have those things, but I feel lucky to have all of them, my family.

During the holidays we all sit by the woodstove in our slippers, and drink our coffee with Baileys and we talk. We talk about everything, and I feel so lucky to be the black sheep in a family who loves me. We remember when my brother was sick for years, and my family had no money so everyone would come to our house and bring food for Thanksgiving. We remember when my cousin Matt was fighting in Iraq, and my aunt and uncle were too heartsick to travel, so we all went to their house and decorated a tree and hung stockings from the fireplace. I had arranged for my friend Lisa who worked for the USO to send Matt and every man in his company Christmas care packages, and when I told my Aunt she said it was the best present, and we all cried.

I guess winter to me isn’t exactly boyfriend season– it’s the perfect season to be grateful for everything else that you have. It’s been another long year, a year of hard work and harder play. I know that I’m a little different than everyone else; still bartending, writing about drinking and ruined relationships. Just broke up with a new one, starting this new year alone. Again. Yes, I’m happy. Yes, seriously! Yes, I have more tattoos. No, you won’t like them. Pass my yellow duck slippers, I don’t know what I’m wearing but it’s not from The Gap and since the cousins showed up I feel frumpy. Pass the Baileys, we drink to my brother’s good health and his new marriage, to my cousin’s new baby and Matt’s safe return home. I might be in the midst of ex-boyfriend season, but it’s almost a new year, and we start it together. I can’t wait.

[..]

by Ryker Suicide

I saw Fatality posted that she made these in The Kitchen Group, I asked her for her recipe but she said she sort of just did her own version of a very basic recipe. So I did the same. It was delicious! A fantastic autumn dish with a little kick. I have to credit Fatality for the pickled onion idea. ABSOLUTELY made the dish!

Ingredients Tacos:

• 1 can of black beans
• 1/2 can of Ro*Tel diced tomatoes with peppers
• Lime juice
• Fresh cilantro
• 1 clove of garlic
• 1 small butternut squash
• Olive oil
• 1 package of ground tofu “beef” bits (I love Smart Ground Original)
• 1 TBS Chinese 5 spice seasoning
• Ground Sage (to taste, I used about a TBS)
• Sea salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
• 1/2 TBS ground cumin
• Pickled onions (recipe follows)
• 3 diced peppers (jalapenos or serranos work great)
• Optional: Sour cream or yogurt (I used soy yogurt, to keep with the vegan theme)
• Corn Tortillas

Preparation:

Combine beans, Ro*Tel tomatoes, lime juice (I used a generous squirt of refrigerated lime juice), and about 1/8 of a cup of chopped cilantro leaves. Stir until warm, add 1 clove of crushed garlic and simmer on low stirring occasionally to prevent beans/garlic from burning.

In a large skillet heat olive oil (a few turns of the pan) until it begins to smoke. Add chopped butternut squash (about 1/4 inch pieces or so, whatever your preference is), ground sage (fresh would also probably work great here, I just didn’t have any on hand), salt/pepper, 5 spice, and ground cumin. Sauté for about 10 minutes until squash is very tender. Add “beef” crumbles and a pinch more of previously mentioned spices (to taste) and cook another 4-6 minutes until flavors have combined and are scrumptious!

Warm tortillas in a dry pan. Serve butternut squash/veggie ground mixture topped with beans, diced jalapenos/serranos, pickled onions, yogurt, and fresh cilantro.

Eat and enjoy!

Ingredients Pickled Onions:

• 1 cup of red wine
• 1 cup of red wine vinegar
• Approx. 1 TBS mustard seed
• Approx 2 TBS whole peppercorns
• 1/2 cup of packed brown sugar
• 2 tsp red pepper flakes
• 2 small yellow onions

Preparation:

Combine red wine and red wine vinegar in a pan over med-low heat. Stir in sugar until melted. Add mustard seed, peppercorns and pepper flakes. Add onions (I sliced them in half and then did thin slices). Heat over medium-high until boils. Transfer to mason jar and allow to pickle 8-12 hours (or longer). They keep for about 10-14 days in the fridge and are heavenly 🙂

[..]

by Laurelin

“Please go with me,” my friend Leanne asked. “I really need this job but I can’t go alone.” I was doubtful. I didn’t want to work at that strip club in Providence, she did. But I guess it wouldn’t kill me to tag along. “Just waitressing,” she had said, and I agreed. There was a group of about ten girls and the club manager gave us all a tour of the floor, the back rooms, and backstage. It was a lot bigger than it looked outside, dimly lit with flashing lights, perfect cooshy chairs lined a perfectly strobe lit stage, and a DJ announced each girl as they started to dance, looking more beautiful than anyone I had ever seen. When it came time to fill out an application I shook my head, but the manager touched my elbow and gave such an encouraging smile that I thought, “well, maybe.”

She called exactly a week later, saying I had a job. My friend didn’t get a call, and even though I felt terrible I also got a bit of a rush. This was so… dangerous. Not my style. I was still in college, in a sorority who’s motto was “Be womanly always.” This was womanly, I guess. Naked womanly. I was all in. The manager met me at the front door and walked me in, showing me to my dressing room and handing me my waitressing uniform. It was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen — black lace up knee high pleather boots with lace up matching pleather booty shorts and a black and red striped lace up corset. It all fit like a glove. I looked at myself in the mirror with what seemed like millions of movie star dressing room light bulbs making me glow. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and I stepped out of the room and into the dark.

I don’t remember when I went from nervous to confident, from being the new girl to being the girl who commanded the room. Days turned to weeks and weeks to months, and a few shifts a week turned full time. I was still in college and making more money than I knew what to do with. I knew every man that set foot into that club, and I knew their stories and what they drank and what they wanted to talk about, especially what they wanted to hear. These men were lonely, whether it be a wife or girlfriend who had settled into routine too quickly, or if there was no one really in the picture at all, no friends, family, just us, just me, a regular girl transformed by a life of strobe lights and glitter.

Soon I wasn’t just waitressing. There were backrub girls too, and when I saw how much money they were making, after one year I was ready to make the switch. Looking back now I still can’t believe it. Armed with scented baby oil gel I ruined these guys, sending them home slimy and smelling of lavender. One year of work turned to two, and then to three. Back rubs and waitressing were now supplemented with foxy boxing and hot oil and whipped cream wrestling on Friday and Saturday nights. The money rolled in, and every single shift I was smiling. I walked out on the stage to my fake name and I worked the room. I wanted to be there. I loved this act, this secret person, this girl who knew just what to say to walk off making a man feel like a million bucks while really, he was just giving it to me.

I remember the night things started to change. My boyfriend had come to visit, and instead of me being able to visit with him like usual I was busy in the champagne room. I had been in there with a customer for over two hours, and I was drunk. The dancers hated when the guys took me in — I didn’t dance or take off my clothes — I was never am entertainer. This night though, my boyfriend had brought someone for me to meet. “Laurelin, out of the champagne room, you have a guest on the floor!” the DJ announced and I squealed, grabbing the bottle of Moet Nectar and running to see who it was. There was my boyfriend and a man, standing at the stage waiting for me. I stumbled walking up to meet them; champagne and I didn’t always agree on walking in a straight line.

“Laur,” my boyfriend said, grabbing my hand, “meet my Father.”

I stood there, trembling, my confidence and buzz falling into my stomach. I was suddenly aware of how I looked — white high heels, naughty nurse uniform with my ass and frilly red shorts hanging out, too much makeup and a fake orange tan. My fake eyelashes suddenly felt too heavy and I saw myself as this man did, a used up drunk girl who couldn’t even stay and talk because I had to go back into a room and spend time with a man who was old enough to be my father. I couldn’t even shake his hand, one was full of champagne and the other clutched a diamond necklace that man had bought me.

What was going on? I left my boyfriend and his Dad at the stage with a handful of ones, and when I was finished with that work shift I scrubbed my face until it was red. I wanted to see my freckles again. I tugged and combed out my hair until all the curls were gone. The dressing room was exactly the same, with all those shining movie star light bulbs and I really saw myself. Too tan, too thin, the line between me and the girl I created at my club so blurred that I wasn’t sure who was who anymore.

I went home that night with my boyfriend and his Dad, and I know that his Dad still has the t-shirt I gave him from my club. He loved it, loved me and everything about that night, but I was horrified. I went in the next night, done up like always, and I put in my two weeks. The manager looked at me like I was crazy. “You’re our best girl!” he said. “I know,” I said. “But I need to get out of here. It’s time.” He gave me a hug, and those last two weeks were the saddest and happiest of my life. I said my goodbyes and on my last night we had a fantastic party. It’s been seven years since then, and when I walk into that club I still know everyone. The men, the drinks, the stories. It’s impossibly sad, but part of it will always be home. As I drove home to my boyfriend’s house on my last night at the club I turned the radio on, my eyes filling with tears. This was really the end of an era. What now? Where did I go from here?

“Boston” by Augustana was playing on the car radio, a song I had never heard: “I think I’ll go to Boston, I think that I’m just tired, I think I need a new town to leave this all behind, I think I need a sunrise, I’m tired of the sunset…”

“Boston,” I thought. “That sounds nice.”

[..]

by Ryker Suicide

Last night I made a really yummy tomato bisque. It’s great served topped with your favorite garnishes (cheese, cracked pepper, croustinis, or fresh julienned basil!) and with baby grilled cheese sammies! It’s a perfect cold weather super food, and is easy to make. It also makes a great appetizer for fall/winter dinner parties served in a martini glass

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons good olive oil
• 1 1/2 cups chopped red onions (2 onions)
• 2 handfuls of baby carrots, chopped
• 3-4 cloves minced fresh garlic
• 2 pounds vine-ripened tomatoes, coarsely chopped (3 large
• 1 can diced tomatoes
• 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 1/4 cup packed chopped fresh basil leaves, plus julienned basil leaves, for garnish
• 3 cups chicken stock
• 1 tablespoon kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper
• 3/4 cup heavy cream
• Garnishes can include all or any of: julienned fresh basil, a basil/Parmesan croustini**, shredded Parmesan, and/or fresh cracked pepper.

Preparation:

Heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium-low heat. Add the onions and carrots and sauté for about 10 minutes, until very tender. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute. Add the tomatoes, sugar, tomato paste, basil, chicken stock, salt and pepper, and stir well. Bring the soup to a boil, lower the heat, and simmer uncovered for about 45- 50 minutes, until the tomatoes are very tender and aromatic.

Add the cream to the soup and ladle it by serving into blender (or process through food mill or veggie mixer). Reheat the soup over low heat just until hot and serve with desired garnishes.

**Directions for Parmesan Croustini:

Slice a loaf of fresh French bread into small diagonal pieces, sprinkle with olive oil, Parmesan cheese, and a bit of dried sage or basil (basil works particularly well with this recipe). Go easy on the basil if you plan to further garnish the soup with it (recommended). Bake until cheese begins to brown at about 250 degrees (about 10 minutes).

Enjoy!

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