Tag Archives: eggs

shrimp scrambled eggs

4 Feb


paleo shrimp scrambled eggsI’m a total homebody who hates traffic…it’s really hard to get me to go snowboarding on the weekends. Even though I’m doing something fun, if I spend a day up there, I feel like my weekend is thus reduced to only one day. It’s like I need two days of mulling around the house and doing my mundane activities to feel relaxed. Pretty dumb, I know. In any case, I was swayed into going to Beaver Creek yesterday knowing full well that because of all the snow the mountains got over the past few days, the traffic and crowds were going to be awful. We left at 6:15 and 15 minutes into our drive the cars started getting backed up. I almost made Joe turn around to bring me back home. But I made it, the day was gorgeous and sunny and warm, and there was tons of really deep, untouched snow. Great, I was glad I bucked up and went. Then I realized my phone was missing and wasn’t in the car when we got back to it and Found My iPhone revealed an unfortunate result…

iphone at Beaver Creek deveining shrimp My friend Chris was still up at the resort, about to leave, when I discovered this and he quickly strapped back in, caught the chair with less than one minute left to last call, got 1/3 of the way up the mountain and came to a halt. No more running lifts. He asked around and very nice, no-nonsense ski patrolman Adam offered to snowmobile Chris up to the bottom of the lift where my phone was. But after searching around, they didn’t find anything. I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME.
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doro wot

16 Oct

paleo doro wot
I hurt my wrist again. The other one. Double gimp. I am so mad about it I don’t even want to talk about it. I relive the moment and my head tightens up and I want so bad to redo it. Not be such a total spaz. I slipped off a pull up bar. At a competition. That I should have kicked butt at. I’m giving up on fitness. Resorting to the safe, comfy couch. Injuries SUCK. They’re so frustrating and my right wrist still isn’t fine from last year’s stupid fall. I don’t want to deal with this stufffff. GAH. Hey look, the last time I hurt my wrist I posted about African food. My only two African posts. I should stop planning on making anything from that continent. Is that racist? Prob.
ethiopian spicestoasted spices in mortarSo Denver doesn’t have quite the amount of ethnic diversity pockets as other cities might have, but the amount of Ethiopian restaurants here surpasses Boston by about a ton, so that’s good enough for me. I first had Ethiopian food my first year in Boston at this funny little hole in the wall near my apartment called Fasika. I’d just tell them to give me a sampling of all of their veggie dishes. Those are still all my favorite. I like the meat dishes, but oh man the vegetables. And the lentils. But for some reason I chose to make this for my first foray into Ethiopian food. I really should have made gomen, using the never ending amount of swiss chard I have in the garden. But I couldn’t muster the thought of prepping all of those leaves with one hand. Plus I was still so crabby about it. I’m still crabby about it. And the stupid splint I’m wearing.
melting butter
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spaghetti squash and caramelized onion cakes

1 Oct

paleo spaghetti squash and caramelized onion cakesfallfallfallfallfallfallfallllll!
spaghetti squash ready to roast spaghetti squashIn other news, I might move to Dallas. I am not happy about it. Joe is looking at a company down there for a job. I don’t know. We’ll see. But I can bet you their fall sucks. What the heck am I supposed to cook down there besides bbq (oh that could be good…). Do winter squash even grow? DO THE LEAVES EVEN CHANGE THERE. It’s just a hot, humid, flat wasteland. I’m too afraid to look back at my blog posts around the time of the Denver move. I think I didn’t want to leave Boston, either. I’m apparently inflexible. It’s hard to even get me to go out at night.
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tortilla española

23 Feb

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time trying to perfect the seasoning on my old Wagner cast iron pan. I can’t tell you how long I’ve spent scraping off ancient food residue, applying too-thick layers of one kind of fat, smoking up the apartment for hours on end, realizing that the too-thick layers make for a horrible, bumpy, sticky attempt at seasoning, trying unsuccessfully to fill in the valleys left by lumpy seasoning, getting frustrated and using oven cleaner to attempt to start from scratch, applying impossibly thin layers of different kinds of fats, smoking the apartment for more hours and hours, burning off successful, gorgeous seasoning when I left the pan unattended on a burner for too long, and finally, where I am now – with a pretty decent non-stick coating that definitely suffers from too-small electric stovetop burners, but that generally loves me back as much as I love it.
Which isn’t to say that it’s used like some people use a commercial non-stick pan, meaning, I happily load up the pan with its fair share of fat. And in this case, olive oil. Lots and lots of olive oil. I mentioned a ways back that I was going to post this recipe. Took me a while, I guess. I remember the first time I saw how to make a Spanish tortilla. Shocked. Completely shocked at the amount of olive oil used. There’s a reason it is so, so, so good. Really, can you not not get it at a tapas restaurant? No matter how many other things are more complicated, fancy, or wonderful sounding, I can’t pass up the tortilla Española. I like to think about European food before their encounter with the Americas. Did the Spanish make tortillas before they got the potato? What did they like to put in them? Don’t even get me started with Italian food without tomatoes. One of these days I’ll get some book on the introduction of New World foods to the Old World, rather than just reading blurbs on Wikipedia. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed with what I don’t know.
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shakshouka with lamb meatballs

21 Jan

I had wanted to wait to make this until I found merguez. There are actually some promising locations that I’d like to scout out at some point, but none of them are particularly close by and the other day I was feeling frazzled about what to make and I couldn’t think of anything else but this, so I just decided to make do without driving all the way across the city. I was also briefly obsessed with trying to make this one Maharashtran Curry recipe. I just knew that if I settled on making that, that I’d spend hours hopping from one Indian grocery to the next in the vain hopes of finding obscure spices. Then I’d come home, headachey, crabby, having wasted all of my good daylight for taking pictures, and then still have nothing to show for it. I’ll just have to casually stop by if ever I’m in any of those ethnic, uh, sections of Denver. I’m sure they’re very nice. I have eaten at a few Ethiopian places to maybe know otherwise. (But OMGOMGOMG I love Ethiopian food.)
You know what else I love? Getting my hours at work cut, and finding out about it by being flippantly handed a new printed-out schedule as the last item at a staff meeting. “Oh by the way, here are some new hours, thanks everyone back to work.” New hours, what like we’re open longer? Open on weekends? What? Oh. OH. I see. WTFFFFFFFFFFFFF What boss does that?? THE WORST ONE. It’s like out of an office-based comedy. Except it’s real. I know you’re not supposed to compromise yourself on the interwebs but I hope any future employer (hello? hi!) would sympathize with me. Seriously, anyone want to hire me? I’m very nice. And I can cook. For you if you’re nice, too. I will also try extra hard not to talk about politics.
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