Part 1 of a very special 2 part series: Potato Salad, because Skippy isn’t going to save us

There are so many things I miss about the TV shows I grew up with. Not in an old man yells at clouds way, but in the silly gimmicks they used to do, whether it be the crossovers between shows (what, Spenser For Hire is on the Love Boat??), the clip compilation show (where the actors reminisce about an event for 45 seconds, they drop in a 5 minute clip of that event, and that’s ad revenue without labor), or the two part episode (where the story line is so important that they just can’t pack it all into one 30 minute episode, so they stretch it over 2 weeks).

What does that have to do with this post? We’re going to spend 2 posts exploring the dishes that come together to make a really great meal.

And why am I treating it as a 2 part series? Umm…I was too lazy to take pictures of the two items separately, and they wouldn’t look good cropped, so it’s a 2 parter now…but rest assured, Skippy is not going to be showing up at the airport to greet Mallory, only to find her with her new boyfriend Scott.

(Yes, I just did Hans Gruber mistaking the season 1 finale of Friends for every episode of Family Ties.)

In part 1 of this series, we’re going to be doing potato salad. Potato salad, like all of the mayo based salads, has a wide range of potential outcomes. Most of the time they’re over-mayoed, which makes them really bland. Occasionally you’ll find some odd ingredients in them, though you don’t find as many variations as you do with chicken salad (grapes, walnuts, Viagra). And usually the potatoes get soft and mushy. As we’ll find out, these are easy to overcome.

First thing first is the potatoes. Go with the regular old russet potatoes; this isn’t a time to get cute with your purple Yukon artisan golds, they’re not going to absorb the seasoning and dressing as well as the humble russet. And you don’t want to be looking at those weird colors in your salad.

Now, the best way to ensure that your potatoes cook evenly to a just tender doneness is to cut them all about the same size. I mean, you can get a ruler and measure and make sure they match exactly…not that I’ve ever done that…

…but they should be around 3/4 inch – 1 inch cubes. Just do your best to keep them uniform if you don’t feel like getting all anal-retentive about it.

Next thing we need to attack is cooking your matchy matchy cubes to cook evenly without turning them into a soggy mess. To do this, you want to start the potatoes in cold water, instead of dumping them straight into boiling water. Boiling water is going to start obliterating the outsides of the cubes before the insides can get cooked, and they’re going to bash against each other and the edges will get all soft and messy. Don’t be soft and messy.

You also want to add a lot of seasonings to the water – sugar, salt, and vinegar. Why do we season the water? The same reason why I’ve said in pasta recipes that you need to make the water taste like the sea OH MY GOD WE’RE DOING A FLASHBACK!!! But seriously, seasoning the water with salt and sugar is going to get them to penetrate the potatoes much better than doing it after boiling. And the vinegar, in addition to the flavoring, is also going to help slow the process of the potato falling apart during cooking, so if you overcook them a little they should still hold together.

Once you’ve got the potatoes boiled, you’ll need to drain them and lay them out on a baking sheet or two, sprinkle them with a little more vinegar, and allow them to cool off. While the potatoes are resting, getting to know the vinegar, absorbing it in the same way that we’re absorbing the likely Shayne/Shaina coupling on the Love Is Blind reunion show, you can start working on the dressing.

Now, there’s nothing saying that you have to follow a specific recipe on the dressing – it’s not like baking, where the entire structure of a loaf of bread crumbles if there’s 1/16th of a tablespoon less of sugar than required. That said, a little over 1/4 cup of mayo per pound of potatoes is a pretty good ratio to get ideal coverage. But hey, if you like it super gloppy, knock yourself out and add all the mayo.

The rest of the additions should add texture (celery, onions), sweetness (sweet pickles), acidity (mustard), and/or deliciousness (hard boiled eggs). Anything you add beyond these should hit one of these characteristics. Usually I joke about things you could add…but you really shouldn’t. Whatever you do add, make sure they’re cut finely – this is a potato salad, not a celery salad, and your choices should reflect that, and will reflect on you as a human being.

Once the potatoes have cooled, you want to mix them and the dressing together. Gently. You’ve spent this much time being very careful to prepare everything perfectly, the last thing you want to do is smash everything together and make sad mashed potato salad.

Be sure to come back next…I don’t know, week, month, millennium…for the finale of this very special post.

Potato Salad

Adapted from Serious Eats

Serves 8


4 pounds russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4 inch cubes

6 T rice wine vinegar

4 T sugar

2 T kosher salt, plus more for seasoning

For the dressing

1 c finely diced celery (about 3 ribs)

1/2 c finely diced red onion (about 1/4 onion)

1/2 c thin sliced green parts of green onions

1/4 c minced parsley

1/4 c minced sweet pickles (sweet pickle relish is a great substitute)

2 T whole grain mustard (Dijon works fine as well)

4 eggs, hard boiled and diced small

1 1/4 c mayonnaise


In a large saucepan, add 2 quarts of cold water, 2 tablespoons each salt, sugar, and vinegar. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce to a simmer. Cook until the potatoes are tender (start testing after 5 minutes, though it will usually take about 10).

Drain the potatoes, then spread evenly onto a baking sheet (or two if needed). Sprinkle 2 tablespoons of vinegar over the potatoes, and allow them to cool to room temperature.

While the potatoes are cooling, prepare the dressing ingredients and combine them into a large bowl.

When the potatoes are cooled, gently fold them into the dressing. Add salt and pepper to taste if needed.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Sriracha and Honey, because you can turn a practical joke into something tasty

Let’s get this out of the way right now. Brussels sprouts are total bullshit. It’s a practical joke, played on us by Mother Nature.

People say that god must have been high when he made the panda. Well, he must have been on some serious LSD, while on a mushroom trip laced with some bad fentanyl, when he came up with these.

“Oh, hey, check this out. I made cabbage, and it’s the world’s shittiest vegetable. But, you know, I made it, so it’s awesome, but whatever. What if I made a bunch of baby cabbages and grew them on a tree trunk? Man, that’ll seriously fuck with their heads. Ooh, let me go work on the aardvark designs while I’m on a roll…”

(I like to envision god as The Dude.)

“Whoops, looks like I accidentally labeled them as Brussels sprouts, and not brussel. That’s awesome, now people are going to call them the wrong thing forever! Who’s going to call me on this, oh god you misspelled brussel, you really gotta change it. Haha, you just got turned into a dung beetle, how you like that? Someone get Gary Busey so we can find some more good coke.”

So the stuff is basically garbage. But, it also is good for you, and is probably high in folic acid, or vitamin T, or sodium flunkatate, so you should probably try and eat them so you won’t die an early death.

I watched a video from Not Another Cooking Show, where Stephen cooked Brussels sprouts. He swears by them, and used to make something very similar on his food truck, so I figured he knows how to make them edible.

In order to make these abominations delectable, you’ve got to get some color on them. Which is a nice way of saying you need to burn them a bit. And in order to get the color, you need to maximize surface area. Which means that you need to cut them in half, and into quarters if they’re really big.

(How do you determine what is really big vs. normal? Hell, I don’t know, have them face off in a 64 sprout tournament to determine the biggest one? It’s like porn, you can’t explain it, but you know it when you see it.)

After you’ve cut them up, put them into a bowl and generously – and I mean generously – coat them with olive oil. They do not need to be thinking they’re Michael Phelps swimming the 400 meter IM through the oil, but they do need a good coating. Then hit them with a few pinches of salt and many grinds of pepper. Don’t be shy on the seasonings, they’re masking the evil tastes of the sprouts.

While you get the oven heating, get a sheet tray and dump those sprouts onto it – if it gets too crowded, use two trays, this is not the time to be jamming your food too tightly together. Then – and I cannot stress the importance of this enough – make sure that all of the sprouts are facing cut-side down. You want the flat sides to start getting color as soon as possible.

Once the oven is ready, chuck the sheet in the oven and let it get burning those sprouts for a good 15 minutes. Then pull the sheet out of the oven and take it to a counter to start flipping them.

The next point I cannot stress enough is that you should individually flip each Brussels sprout cut side up. This sounds like a royal pain, and maybe it is. But, this is how you show your food love. It needs to know that you care about it, that you want it to be everything you hope it will.

(Of course, you can just toss them around, or shake the tray a bit and see what happens, but the sprouts will know. Oh, they will know. And when you get that phone call many years from now, and the police tell you that your sprouts got drunk and lit bags of poo on the principal’s doorstep, or they shot up a school, or they started reading Ayn Rand…you’ll know why…)

After you flip them…

…you discover that your oven has some hot spots. But even the lighter ones are still starting to get some color on them. So chuck the tray back in the oven (giving it a 180 turn to account for the hot spots) for another 15 minutes (if they’re looking a little parched, a little more oil won’t hurt).

While they’re getting their second cook, you can make the sauce. I like using sriracha and honey, it’s a pretty simple combination that gets a lot of flavor out of the sprouts. I mix it in the same bowl I tossed the sprouts in, so there’s less cleanup afterwards.

After their second cook, the whole sprout has got some color on it.

From here, you can just shake the pan around a bit to make sure that nothing stuck. Forget about showing them love anymore, they took the car and crashed it, and they didn’t take out the trash, and they keep playing that Spin Doctors song, they deserve their punishment.

Everything from here out is based on your liking. If you think they need some more cooking, throw the tray back in for another 10-15 minutes. If you like them softer, for some stupid reason, take them out now.

Whenever you’ve decided that they’re done, drop them into the bowl with the sauce. Coat them in the sauce, and relish the fact that you have done the unthinkable: you have taken the putrid and made it delicious.

Brussels Sprouts with Sriracha and Honey


Serves 4


1 1/2 pounds Brussels sprouts, stems trimmed, dirty or nasty leaves removed, halved (trimmed if large)

1/4 c olive oil

Multiple generous pinches of salt

Several grinds of black pepper

1/4 c Sriracha

2 T honey


Preheat oven to 450 degrees F.

Place halved sprouts in a large bowl. Add oil, salt, and pepper. Mix well with your hands and ensure that the sprouts are well-coated with oil. Add more if needed.

Pour sprouts onto a sheet pans (if the tray is too crowded, use two pans), and turn all sprouts cut-side down.

Place pan in the oven for 15 minutes.

Remove pan and flip all sprouts to round-side down. Rotate the pan 180 degrees, and return to the oven for 15 minutes.

While the sprouts are cooking, add the Sriracha and honey to the large bowl, Stir to combine. Adjust the seasoning to your taste.

Remove pan from the oven after the 15 minutes have elapsed, and stir and shake the sprouts to keep them from sticking.

Return to the oven for 10-15 minutes, or until the sprouts are browned to your liking.

Remove pan, and add the cooked sprouts to the bowl with sauce. Toss to combine and serve.

Palestinian chicken, because this is way beyond pre-tay, pre-tay good

I have never fully embraced Curb Your Enthusiasm. Which is weird, because I loved Seinfeld, I like warped humor, and they had a character named Marty Funkhouser (rest in power, Bob Einstein). But it just never hit the mark with me.

What did hit the mark, however, was the episode with the Palestinian chicken – and granted even the episode has its own issues and doesn’t hold up as well as you’d like. But the chicken…it’s no joke, this stuff is really great.

(Setting up that this post will not be hijacked by any sort of pro/anti Israel/Palestine discussion, this is food, and if any of you little spazoids try, I know where you live and I’ve seen where you sleep, and I swear to everything holy that your mothers will cry when they see what I do to you.)

What makes it great is that it gets marinated in yogurt and spices for 24 hours. You would think that the yogurt would make the skin soft and flabby, but it’s the complete opposite. It gets crispy and browned, almost blackened. And the yogurt helps tenderize the meat too, because…science…

First thing you need to do is to get yourself a whole chicken. A normal sized one, about 4 pounds or so, not the ginormous ones that would have qualified for small turkeys a few years ago. I highly recommend getting an air chilled one if that’s an option.

One you have your not bio-generated monster chicken, you’re going to spatchcock it. You might remember that we covered this in a previous post, from like forever ago. But, if you haven’t been with the blog before last week, here’s a quick review of how to do it, brought to you by the smooth voice of Chef John.

Now, could you just use a cut up chicken, or random chicken parts, or the crab from The Little Mermaid? Sure, I guess.

Should you?

Spatchcocking it is going to keep everything flat and get maximum browning and minimum time cooking. And you will know that this was once an animal, and it died for you…after someone at a meatpacking plant killed it for you…

For the marinade, you’re just going to mix the yogurt with shallots and a few herbs and spices. The recipe calls for sumac. However, our local market didn’t have any, and I kept getting a 404 error every time I went to, so I subbed in some lemon pepper and it turned out just fine.

Once you’ve got all the marinade mixed together, get yourself a big Ziploc bag, toss the chicken in there, and cover it with your yogurt goodness.

(Awkward pause)

Then rub the yogurt all over the chicken, making sure you cover every inch of the yeah this isn’t making it any better just toss it around in the yogur oh for crying out loud just close the bag and put it into the fridge.

Now that the yogurt bird is resting in the fridge, let’s talk toum. Never heard of toum? Neither had I! It’s essentially an eggless garlic mayo, which you will want to spread on everything you eat for the rest of your life.

Could you just take a jar of mayonnaise and mix in some jarred minced garlic? I guess.

Should you?

Yes, it’s going to be a pain in the ass to crush all those garlic cloves, and the peels are going to be sticky, and your hands are going to reek of garlic, and no one will want to touch you even though that was probably the case before you started crushing garlic anyways but go ahead and use the garlic as an excuse if it makes you feel better. But look at what that’s going to yield you.

And then you’re not going to get to watch it turn into this lovely garlic paste…

…and see it turned into this huge mound of garlic spread goodness.

So, do yourself a favor and take the time to make this yourself. The chicken isn’t going anywhere…and if it does…you have other issues you’re going to need to deal with.

The next day, after your chicken is done soaking in the marinade, pull it out of the fridge. Lay some foil on top of a roasting pan or baking sheet (you do NOT want to be scraping this off the bottom of a pan) and lay your chicken flat over it. Pop it in the oven, and when it’s done let it rest before you cut into it. It’s going to be hotter than hell, and you want all the bird juices to reabsorb into the meat and not fly out of it.

Once your bird is rested, cut off a piece of it, throw it on a plate with some toum, and dig in.

Palestinian Chicken with Toum

from Binging With Babish

Serves 4


1 whole chicken, about 4 pounds

1 cup yogurt

2 shallots, finely diced

Zest of 1 lemon

Juice of 1/2 lemon

1 t sumac (lemon pepper can be substituted)

1/2 t ground cardamom

1 bunch fresh dill, chopped (no dry dill)

1 T olive oil

2 heads garlic, peeled

1 cup canola, or other neutral oil

1/4 c lemon juice


In a medium bowl, combine the yogurt, shallots, lemon zest, juice of 1/2 lemon, cardamom, sumac, dill, olive oil, salt and pepper.

Spatchcock the chicken, and place it in a gallon sized storage bag.  Pour contents from the yogurt bowl into the bag, remove as much excess air from the bag, and seal.  Rub the yogurt mixture all over the chicken to ensure it is completely coated.

Place the bag in the refrigerator, and allow it to marinate overnight.

The next day, preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

Place a layer of foil over the bottom of a roasting pan or sheet tray.  Remove chicken from bag, and lay on top of the foil (no need to remove the excess marinade).

Roast chicken for 45-55 minutes.

While the chicken is cooking, peel the garlic cloves and place in the bowl of a food processor.  Start the processor, and pulse until the garlic forms a smooth paste.

Once a paste is formed, slowly drizzle in 1/2 cup of the canola oil.  Stop the processor and allow it to rest for a few seconds.  Then slowly drizzle in the 1/4 cup of lemon juice, and allow to rest for a few seconds.  Slowly drizzle in the remaining oil, until the mixture forms into a smooth paste.

Once chicken is finished cooking, remove from the oven and rest for at least 10 minutes.  Carve chicken and serve with toum.

Matzo Ball Soup, because you need some Jewish soul food in your life

I remember when I was growing up, my family would go over to my great aunt’s house for holiday dinners. And for occasional weekend dinners. And random Friday night gatherings. They threw a lot of events, because at that age I suppose you don’t have much else to do.

Anyways, my grandmother lived right up the hill from my great aunt – literally right up the hill. Their houses were pretty much back to back, and you walk down a 50 foot hill and you’re at the house. So she would bring some food as well. And she made matzo ball soup, with the largest matzo balls I have ever seen. Like, the size of softballs.

And they’d serve them in these average sized bowls, so the balls would engulf the bowl, and there’d be a little bit of soup in it, and a little piece of carrot or celery that wondered why they even bothered to put it in the bowl.

Were they good? Hell if I remember! They were giant balls, what else did you need to know?

Flash forward about 20 years. My friends were having a soup night, and I decided that it was time to take a shot at making my own version of matzo ball soup.. So I did the slightest bit of research, and came to the realization…

…her matzo balls probably sucked.

Let’s step back for a minute, for those of you that aren’t familiar with this goodness. Matzo ball soup is essentially Jewish chicken and dumplings. The balls are pretty close to the same as dumplings, except you use matzo meal instead of flour. And matzo meal is made from ground-up matzos, which are flavorless dry crackers. That doesn’t sound terribly appealing, but neither does flour, and you’re going to make some very good things out of this.

Now, there are two types of matzo balls: floaters and sinkers. Floaters are pillowy, soft, tender balls that will mostly sit on top of the broth and absorb all the flavors of the soup.

Sinkers are for people that have no taste buds, like horrible things, and probably root for Ohio State…I mean, they are flavorless blobs that sink to the bottom of the bowl.

Most likely, my grandmother’s matzo balls were sinkers. I probably learned more about my family with this piece of information than I would get from spending 20 hours on

So, because we here on this blog like things that taste good, we’re going to work on making some floaters. Making the batter is pretty easy. You just mix some matzo meal, eggs, seltzer water (the key ingredient to make them floaters), melted butter (if you have some spare schmaltz laying around, this would be the time to use it), salt, and pepper. Be generous with the salt, matzo meal is seriously bland.

Once you’ve got it mixed together (make sure there aren’t any pockets of dry matzo meal just hanging out together), put it in the refrigerator to rest for about 30 minutes or so. This is essential, all the ingredients need to have time to get to know each other, talk about the latest episode of Ted Lasso, debate the merits of Nate making decisions over Coach Beard, stuff like that.

While that’s resting, go get your biggest pot and fill it up with a boatload of chicken broth, and start bringing that to a boil. Definitely splurge for the organic stuff if you can, it does make for a better soup (though if you have some homemade broth, you are not going to find a better purpose for it).

Once your batter is rested and can give you the plusses and minuses of using a 4-4-2 vs. 4-2-3-1 formation, pull it out of the fridge and bring it next to your kitchen sink, along with a plate to place your matzo balls onto. Why near the sink? Because the ball mixture is super sticky, and you’re going to need to wet your hands every few balls so it doesn’t stick to your hands.

You want to make these relatively small, no bigger than a golf ball. They’re going to puff up when they cook, so don’t make them too big. So just grab a little piece, roll it around in your moist hands, say ohhh, I can’t wait to put you in my mouth, acknowledge that that was just weird, and then put the ball on the plate.

By the time you’ve got your balls made, your broth should be at a boil. Drop those balls in one at a time, maybe make a high-pitched scream after each one, saying NOOOO I STILL HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!!! Once they’re in, lower the temperature to a simmer. I like keeping the lid on so the top-facing side stays moist – if you do that, make sure you get the temperature pretty low, because it can come to a boil pretty easily.

Now, some people will argue with you and say that the balls should be cooked in water and not broth, because you want to taste the balls separately from the broth. Which, I say, of course you should do that! What hasn’t ever tasted better when cooked in water than in broth? And I get to dirty up another pot? Where do I sign up for this dipshittery?!?!

While the balls are cooking, get yourself one of those rotisserie chickens and shred it up into little bits. I don’t know if it’s the brine/spices they cook them in, or the texture of it, but it really adds something to the dish.

After the balls are done cooking (which you’ve flipped once during their 30 minute bath), get those balls out of there and back onto that plate.

Remember how I said they were going to plump up? Check these fat fuckers out! If I knew how to do cool photoshop stuff I’d be making a How It Started/How It’s Going meme for this!

From here, you’ve got choices. Do you want to add carrots, celery, onions, Ivermectin to your broth? This would be the time to cut some up and get them cooking in the broth. Cut them in small enough pieces that they’ll cook in 10-15 minutes or so – you’ve put enough effort into the soup, you don’t want to wait too much longer to eat it, and no one gives a fuck about the vegetables, so get it done quick. Then drop the shredded chicken in there and cook it just long enough to heat it through and get it to release those sweet spices.

All set now? Load up a bowl with some soup and chicken, drop a few balls in there, and kick back and enjoy. You’ve got good taste, and those sinker lovers can go suck it.

Matzo Ball Soup

Serves 4-6 bowls


1 cup matzo meal

4 large eggs

1/4 cup melted butter or oil

1/4 cup seltzer water

1 teaspoon salt

Several grinds of black pepper

3-4 quarts of organic chicken broth

1 grocery store rotisserie chicken, skinned and shredded


In a large bowl, beat the eggs until the yolks and whites are combined.

Mix in the matzo meal, melted butter, seltzer water, salt, and pepper. Stir until there are no pockets of dry matzo meal.

Refrigerate the mixture for 30 minutes.

In a large stockpot, add the chicken broth. Bring to a boil.

After 30 minutes, remove the bowl from the refrigerator, and place by a sink. Place a large plate by the bowl.

Wet your hands under cold water, grab a golf ball sized piece of the mixture or smaller, and roll it into a ball shape. Place the ball onto the plate, and repeat.

When the broth reaches a boil, add the matzo balls to the pot one at a time.

Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot, and cook for 15 minutes. Check after a couple minutes to make sure the broth does not boil over.

After 15 minutes, remove the lid, flip the matzo balls, and cook for another 15 minutes.

Remove the balls with a slotted spoon and place on a plate.

Return the broth to a simmer. If desired, add vegetables and cook until tender.

Add shredded chicken to the simmering broth. Simmer until chicken is warmed through.

Return matzo balls back to the pot. Simmer for a minute to reheat the matzo balls.


I Won the Encyclopedia of Sandwiches Challenge, because your favorite sandwich sucks

I’m sure most of you saw the “What Sandwich Are You?” meme that was traveling around the internet earlier this week. Which, to me, really wasn’t good enough, because:

  1. I don’t think you should have to restrict yourself to just one sandwich.
  2. Some of these sandwiches need to be put in their place.

So I decided that it was necessary to rank these, 1-40, and make sure these sandwiches know which of them just don’t make the grade.

(I realize that I’m making the sandwiches anthropomorphic characters by shaming them…but that was their decision when they decided to become a sandwich.)

(This list is already somewhat discredited by the fact that the greatest sandwich in the world, muffuletta, is nowhere to be found, but you have to dance with the sandwich list you brung to the dance…)


40. Liverwurst

I’m always amazed that there’s the part of the deli section in the grocery store that has all of the “reject meats” (head cheese, olive loaf, liverwurst, etc.). Are they doing this because Big Liverwurst has incriminating photos of the head of the Deli Meat Slicer Union? Is there some sort of Dagwood Bumstead Appreciation Society that comes in during the early morning hours and wipes them out of it? Regardless, this is disgusting and should never be eaten.

39. Cucumber Tea

Has anyone in America not named Boopsy or Snifsy, or aspiring to compete socially with said Boopsy, ever eaten this abomination?

38. Bocadillo

Bread, rubbed with raw tomatoes? Ooh, I want all of the seedy slimy flavor of a tomato, without any of the meat of the tomato, because it gets in the way of the raw slime. Sign me up!

37. Bologna

I used to eat bologna when I was 7, and I mostly attribute it to my mom maybe hating me…at least that’s what came out in therapy…with the nasty aftertaste, no one should be touching this stuff.

36. Veggie & Hummus

Is this a real sandwich? Like, I want to eat crudites and hummus in mass quantities, and I haven’t been invited to a party in months where they would serve them, so I bought a mini tray at the market and shoved them between slices of bread to make it socially acceptable?

35. Jambon Beurre

Ham and salted butter? My god, does it come with a complimentary IV drip to re-hydrate you?


34. Falafel Pita

Yeah, I know that falafel is not a vegetable, just a vegetarian fritter, and jamming it inside a pita with a few vegetables doesn’t make it any better.

33. Caprese

For people that want a “sophisticated grilled cheese”, but with runny tomato goo in the middle.

(I’m not much on the raw tomato thing, if you can tell.)

32. BLT

Me: I’d like to get a bacon cheeseburger with everything.

Waitress: Great…ooh, but we’re out of burgers…and cheese…and buns…but I could put the rest on some white toast!

Me: What?

(to be continued…)


31. Turkey club

Waitress: And I could add some sad turkey slices and cut them into quarters and stab each one with a fancy toothpick!

Me: What?

Waitress: I’ll have Mr. Hedberg explain it to you.

30. Ham and Cheese

95% of all sandwich ham falls between slightly below mediocre and just plain mediocre. Except for Boars Head Habanero Ham, that seriously rules. I mean, if that’s all I had to choose from, or my other option was sad turkey, I would probably eat it…but I wouldn’t go there again.


29. Gyro

You can call it lamb, but to me it’s just decent mystery meat in a pita with average creamy cucumber yogurt sauce.

28. Torta

I’ll confess that I probably haven’t had the right tortas, but what I’ve had seems to be just chewy bread with a variety of meat and cheese. Plus, beans on a sandwich? Nuh uh, I make enough of a mess of myself as is.


27. French Dip

In theory, this should be a pretty good sandwich. Roast beef with roast beef drippings sauce. Two big problems:

  1. 7 times out of 10, the sauce turns out to be super oversalted
  2. Soggy sandwiches are rarely appealing


26. Po Boy

Again, tomatoes and shredded lettuce are no-nos here, so it’s just fried seafood and mayo sauce and bread. And that’s ok, I’m just good with having those elements separately.


25. Bacon Egg and Cheese

So, you have to, in the space of maybe four minutes, toast your bread, fry adequately crispy bacon, and cook the egg just right. Anything less, and it’s all for nothing. Plus, then you’ve got the issue of eating a sandwich with a runny egg, so most of it is probably fork and knifing it, which is fine, but then you might as well make bacon and eggs with toast.


24. Hot Brown

Taking a couple slices of bread and covering them with turkey and a half gallon of cream sauce does not qualify as a sandwich. Plus, the sauce is usually too salty, but if they put it under a broiler and crisp the top a bit…I don’t hate them for that.

23. Croque Monsieur

I don’t know what Hot Brown is in French, but they might as well call it that instead of Croque Monsieur.

22. Croque Madame

Add an egg to it, and you’ve got French Hot Brown with L’oeufs (oh yeah, Google Translate for the win!)


21. PB&J

Even with room temperature peanut butter, I still find it hard to spread it without ripping the bread. But it’s simple and tasty, and works best with the most basic jelly, like Welch’s grape.

Never buy the jars with the peanut butter and jelly in it though, or I will hunt you down.

20. Grilled Cheese

Again, if you use mayonnaise instead of butter to coat the outside of the bread like every hipster tells you to, it’s a hunt you down situation. No, plain white bread, Kraft singles, and lots of salted butter are the only acceptable ingredients.


19. Tonkatsu

Mayo isn’t necessarily a key ingredient here, but since it’s an ingredient I technically have to include it in the mayo category…because we’re all about following rules here. Anyways, tonkatsu is a pretty simple sandwich. And when you have a simple sandwich, you can’t miss on a single element. That said, even a bad fried pork cutlet is still pretty decent.


18. Lobster Roll

The good thing about this sandwich: I never realized you could split a hot dog bun down the middle. Grilling it with butter is also a wonderful thing.

The bad things about this sandwich: if you don’t live in New England, you’re either getting an all-filler/no-thriller salad, or you’re paying $20 for a smallish bun.

16-17. Egg Salad/Chicken Salad

This is a dangerous group, because it’s almost entirely dependent on the mayo content, and whether the maker of the sandwich understands that mayo has no flavor content and needs to be well-seasoned. Also, some chicken salad has grapes and those people should be shot. That said, when done well, quite tasty.

15. Tuna Salad

Some of the same issues with the above salads, except that I find that people tend to get less cute with tuna than they do with chicken, so the quality is usually better. And when you add cheese and griddle it in butter…this needs to be on more menus.


14. Cheesesteak

The only reason this isn’t higher is because very few places do this the right way, actually cooking it on a griddle and instead just sauteing everything. Which is still pretty good. Also, any sandwich that people legitimately use Cheez Whiz on can’t be considered a top shelf sandwich.

13. Roast Beef

It’s like the ham and cheese, except you decided to make a sandwich that tells someone you love them, instead of one that you give them before you tell them that you’re writing them out of your will.

12. Bahn Mi

As has been explored previously, not everyone is a fan of this sandwich. But when it’s done right, with well cooked meats and pickled vegetables, they are fantastic.

Also, some of them have liver pate on them, so no elite status for you.

11. Monte Cristo

Some of this is a nostalgia play. I spent seven miserable weeks many years ago waiting tables at Bennigan’s. The only good memory of that place was that they had a monstrously beautiful Monte Cristo. Deep fried french toast stuffed with turkey & ham (both meats that I’ve maligned earlier, but they weren’t fried, so fuck ’em) and cheese was just a beautiful thing. But I won’t hate people that say the french toast sandwich thing isn’t for them.

10. Meatball

This is basically an excuse to eat a lot of meatballs and cheese with bread. It’s a good excuse.

9. Thanksgiving

Whomever decided to take all of the Thanksgiving leftovers and throw them between two slices of bread was a fucking genius. Done right, there’s taste and texture balance that makes you glad you spent three days cooking for family. And Monica Geller’s addition of the moistmaker is next level. The only weird thing is that, if you add stuffing/dressing, you’re eating bread between bread.

Also, the moistmaker got really dark…

8. Bagel & Lox

True story: when I was a kid, I used to use butter instead of cream cheese as my add-on for my bagel & lox sandwich. How I did not die form sodium overdose is beyond me. Nowadays, if you can find me a really good bagel (not the easiest thing to do in Texas), I’m sure I could source some quality lox and be a very, very happy boy. The above also neglects to mention the capers, which in my mind are a necessity. Oh, also, fuck that tomato.


7. Patty Melt

I was honestly surprised when I put this together, because I can’t remember the last time I’ve had one of these. Mostly because it’s rarely on menus, which seems ridiculous to me, because it’s not like it’s too difficult to make. Cook a burger, grill some onions, slap it in between two slices of bread and griddle it in a mountain of butter, is that a bad thing?

6. Italian Sub

To be fair, most Italian subs are a series of somewhat indistinguishable salty meats, piled onto a sub roll. I don’t see what’s wrong with that. Plus, you rarely get a scrawny Italian sub, probably because there’s usually a minimum of three meats on one of them. My go-to order when I go to a sub shop.

5. Pulled Pork

The only negative about this sandwich is, at some point during the consumption, it morphs from a pulled pork sandwich into a pulled pork plate. I’ve never seen anyone eating the entire sandwich as a sandwich. It’s still pretty awesome though.

4. Fried Chicken

Five years ago, I wouldn’t have thought much of one of these. But then hot chicken became a huge thing, and everyone started to up their fried chicken game, and then Popeye’s entered the chat and made everyone lose their shit, and that’s made us all better for it.

3. Italian Beef

The last one time I went to Chicago, I went straight to Portillo’s for a big ass Italian beef sandwich. If you haven’t had one of their roasted and slices beef sandwiches with a ton of hot giardiniera, and dipped into a pot of beef jus (the only timeI will violate my anti-soggy sandwich stance), you have not lived.

(And I’m sure some hipster will be sending me emails, telling me how Portillo’s is mass produced crap and there’s some hole in the wall that’s only open on prime number days between 3:17 and 7:13 that does it way better. To which I would say, great, and that means it’s even better than I thought it would be!)

2. Reuben

At what point in American history has anyone ordered a Reuben, eaten it, and said, I wish I’d ordered something else? It hasn’t. Ever. No one has ever walked away from one disappointed. Corned beef and sauerkraut and Swiss cheese (which makes it so un-kosher yet every Jewish deli loves to make these)…how could anyone ever hate these? It would be the king of all sandwiches…except for…

  1. The Cuban Sandwich

I had never heard of this gem until maybe 15 years ago- I blame Castro for that. Regardless, of all the breads that have a nationality in front of it, Cuban bread reigns supreme. And not a lot of places carry this, because, frankly, it’s not one that just anyone can make. You have to roast the pork well, source yourself some good bread, find decent ham but whatever with that, and be willing to take up a decent amount of griddle space to butter and press the shit out of that thing. Gimme all the Cubans you can get me.

Chick-Fil-A knockoff, because we are all out of fucks to give

So my lady and I were deciding on what to make for the coming week – which we have to do three days ahead of time if we want to get groceries delivered instead of navigating the hellscape that is a grocery store now – and came up with the idea of fried chicken. Because, really, healthy eating, now…psssh…whatever…

When we first moved down here, I used to make chicken and waffles occasionally for a Sunday night dinner. Now, I make a pretty damned good fried chicken, and a just fine waffle. Not a bad waffle, just nothing special about it. There’s just only so much you can do with a waffle; at a certain point, it’s just a very good waffle. Plus, the difference between not enough batter (where you get a sad burnt thin waffle with holes every third grate) and too much batter (where it flies out of the iron like lava from the Brady Bunch science fair project) is razor thin.

So, basically we decided that the waffle was essentially an excuse to have spicy chicken for breakfast, and ditched that part of the chicken and waffles equation.

Don’t believe that the chicken is the star of the show? Let me reenact how I think a couple conversations would go in this house:

Me: Honey, I just heard about this restaurant that makes the most amazing fried chicken, it’s just a 30 minute drive from here!

Very Happy Honey: Woohoo, do you prefer Google Maps or Waze?

And then…

Me: Honey, I just heard about this restaurant that makes the most amazing waffles, it’s just a 30 minute drive from here!

Not So Happy Honey: (throws a package of frozen Eggo’s at my head) What the fuck is wrong with you you never heard of a toaster oven why the hell do I even let you live here??

(That’s obviously unrealistic…we don’t have Eggo’s here)

Now I know what you’re thinking…frying food is a huge pain in the ass, loads of work, oil gets everywhere, and you might set yourself and/or your kitchen on fire.

The truth is, it’s not terribly difficult to fry food, but it is a bit of a pain to get everything set up, and you will probably have to use a few plates to prep and dry your chicken if you want to do it right. And, yes, there will be some oil that splatters, but if you use a big enough pot you can minimize the spray.

The one big issue is that, once you’re done, you’re going to have a big pot of oil that you can’t easily dispose of. Of course, where some see a problem, I see an opportunity…to fry a bunch of food! You’ll have a lot of leftovers, which granted won’t stay as crisp in the fridge, but that’s not going to matter to you, right?

I decided to make two different types of fried chicken: my normal Chick-Fil-A knockoff, and a Japanese style fried chicken called karaage. But, the karaage didn’t come out quite as well as I’d hoped, so we will spend zero more time discussing it.

(I should note that “my normal” is very closely adapted from J. Kenji-Lopez Alt’s recipe…and by very closely adapted I mean it really depends on what spices I have around that day)

I find my normal one works best with breast meat rather than thighs, probably more because the milder flavor of the breasts lets the spice and breading stand out more. And because I’m lazy, I just use breast tenderloins, which are more expensive but you don’t have to cut them up.

Typically these are best with a 24 hour marinade in buttermilk. However, here’s how this batch went:

Monday, 7:00 PM – Oh crap, forgot to put buttermilk on the shopping list.

Monday, 7:30 PM (following returning from Kroger, removing my mask, and washing my hands 35 times): Oh crap, the chicken is in the freezer.

Monday, 7:31 PM – Good thing we have a 3×2 inch empty pocket in the fridge, let’s just jam the chicken in there and hope for the best.

Tuesday, 7:30 AM – Chicken still isn’t thawed, good thing I vacuum packed it, stick that in a pot of water to get it the rest of the way.

Tuesday, 8:30 AM – Most all of it’s thawed, just give the icy parts a mild massage, say naughty things to it, oh yeah, your mom was a dirty little egg layer, who knows how many beaks she had in there…

Tuesday, 8:40 AM – Not weird at all, but they’re thawed.

Once you have your slutty breast tenders thawed, you’re going to stick them in a bag with some buttermilk and an array of spices. This time I used salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, paprika, smoked paprika, and onion powder. Garlic powder would have been better, but I’m not about to challenge the supermarket coronazombies to get a slightly tastier chicken. But really, whatever spices you have around should be fine, as long as there’s adequate salt and pepper, and not your mother in law’s ashes – nasty aftertaste.

Whatever spice blend you put together, make sure you have enough to season the buttermilk brine, the breading, and the tenders pre/post frying – yeah, we’re getting real with these things. I would say you should have at least 1/3 cup for the entire operation.

After your overnight/8 hour brining of the morally questionable breasticle meat, take them out (don’t get rid of the brine) and dry them off pretty thoroughly – they shouldn’t be completely dry, but too much leftover brine is going to mess up the fry. Once you’ve dried them off, hit them with another dusting of the spice mix.

From here, you just need to get your flour mix together to coat the chicken with. Again, drop some more of them spices in the flour, and then add about 1/4 cup of the marinade into the flour. You’re going to want to work the brine into the flour with your fingertips and get them all mixed together. This is going to help build up the crunchy bits on the outside of the chicken.

(Or as foodies would say, craggly bits. Because foodies just have to take every normal term and turn it into something that they created and tried to make their own. Like, oh it’s not fresh food, it’s farm-to-table, oh it’s not a place that serves food and beer, it’s a gastropub, oh it’s not a curry it’s a chickpea stew with coconut milk and every spice in a curry (we see you Alison Roman #Istandwithchrissieteigen).)

(Yeah I just managed parentheses inside parentheses, I know my order of operations, don’t hate me ’cause you ain’t me.)

Geez, where was I, oh the chicken breading. Don’t be shy about pressing the breading into the chicken, you want it to really stick.

Once you’ve got the breading rubbed in, get yourself the biggest pot you have and fill it 1/3 to 1/2 way (and no more than halfway) with vegetable or canola oil, and turn the head on about medium to medium-high.

I can’t stress enough how important it is to only fill it up halfway. If you fill it beyond that, you run a serious risk that the oil is going to boil over and cause serious damage to your kitchen and skin. If you’re depending on me to tell you how to cook, there’s a fair chance that you haven’t considered this possibility. Unless you’re looking for an excuse to test out your fire extinguisher – again, probably something you don’t have.

Also, invest in a candy thermometer to take the temperature of the oil. Some recipes will tell you to stick a wooden spoon or chopstick into the oil and see if bubbles appear around it. Which, ok if you want to oil up your spoon, or maybe the Chopsticks R Us near you is still considered essential business and you can get yourself a few, but it’s worth just getting a thermometer. And no, you shouldn’t try and take your temperature with it to see if you have the ‘rona, I feel like I shouldn’t need to say that, but I will for liability’s sake.

(Also, don’t drink bleach. Again, I feel like it’s needed to say this.)

When the oil up to temperature, take four or so tenders out of the breading bowl and tap off the excess breading, and then carefully drop them into the oil one at a time. By carefully, I mean slowly lower it into the oil and then release it away from you, so you won’t splatter yourself. Don’t be tempted to put them all in, that will seriously drop the temperature of the oil, and you’ll be left with some sad, greasy, tough chicken. And also the oil might boil over – see above for why that could be a bad thing.

Four minutes is a good rule of thumb, you can cook them a little more if you want but I wouldn’t go any less. When they’re done, fish them out with a slotted spoon or a spider – don’t use tongs, you’ve done so much work to get the breading right, the tongs will just rip it off – and place them onto a paper towel. Then sprinkle some more of the spice mixture on top of them.

Chick-Fil-A Fried Chicken Knockoff

Serves 4


1 package of chicken tenderloins, about 1 1/2 pounds

1 1/2 T paprika

1 T salt

1 T black pepper

2 t cayenne pepper

2 t smoked paprika

2 t onion powder

2 c buttermilk

2 c flour

Vegetable oil for frying


Combine all of the spices into a small bowl and set aside.

In a large plastic zippered bag, pour in the buttermilk and 1/3 of the spice mixture. Add the chicken and mix around to ensure that all of the chicken is coated. Squeeze out the excess air, seal the bag, and place it in the fridge overnight, flipping at least once.

When ready to fry, in a large bowl, combine flour and 1/3 of the spice mixture.

Take the bag of chicken out of the fridge, and add 3-4 tablespoons of the buttermilk marinade to the flour. Mix it in with your fingers thoroughly, until there are no large clumps of flour.

Pour oil into a large pot and fill about 1/3 to 1/2 way. Turn the burner onto medium-high heat and bring the oil up to 350 degrees F.

Remove the chicken from the brine, allowing all of the excess brine to drip off. Place chicken tenders into the floured bowl and press breading into chicken.

When the oil is up to temperature, take 4 tenders and remove from the bowl individually, shaking off the excess breading. Place carefully in the oil.

Fry chicken for 4-5 minutes. When done, use a slotted spoon or spider to remove the chicken and place on a paper towel lined plate. Sprinkle spice mixture over chicken.

Repeat process until all chicken is cooked.

Pasta Bolognesish, because we are going to get into a lot of trouble with the food police

At our house, we like to have a homemade Sunday dinner, just a little something my lady and I can enjoy having made together. And by together, I mean that I do the cooking, and she asks me “honey do you need any help good I’ll watch over the dogs let me know if you need any help but really don’t we’re good here I’ll do the cleaning afterwards I don’t trust you to do it well.”

(She’s right, by the way, I didn’t make up the name Adam’s Messy Kitchen as satire. Division of labor rules!)

When we first started doing this – which wasn’t something intentional but kind of happened organically, just like our love for each other…AWWWW…or white nationalism OH GOD I JUST HAD TO GO OFF AND RUIN IT AND I WONDER WHY I WAS SINGLE FOR SO LONG!! – I asked her what she’d like me to make. She said that she loves Pasta Bolognese, which sounded absolutely wonderful.

I’ve made plenty of tomato sauces before, but never specifically a Bolognese, so I looked at some recipes to get an idea of what might work. The first one that popped up was by Marcella Hazan, author of the gold standard easy tomato sauce recipe. So this had to be a gem, right?

Everything looks really good, until I got down to step 4, and then this happened:

While the sauce is cooking, you are likely to find it begins to dry out and the fat separates from the meat.  To keep it from sticking, add 1/2 cup of water whenever necessary.  At the end, however, no water at all must be left and the fat must separate from the sauce. 

Da fuq does that mean? How exactly am I going to know that the fat separated from the sauce? Does the fat gather in the formation of the band members of Journey and start reenacting the Separate Ways video? And what if it became really attached to the meat after all the time they’ve spent together, and it revolts against chemistry and science and screams HELL NO, I WON’T GO? And I don’t appreciate the authoritarian feel of saying that no water MUST be left. And what if there is some left, does the pot get sucked into the upside down with Hopper (oh yes, Joyce, he’s alive, #JusticeforHopper)?

The dispiriting thing was, I found that about 75% of the recipes online had similar instructions. Thankfully, there were a few that weren’t so out there, so I used those to create my own recipe to build a better world…one where fats and meats can live in harmony, free of the fear that cooks will try and pull them apart to satisfy “authentic Italian cooking” standards…

So, here’s everything you’ll need to make my Bolognesish recipe – at least everything that I remembered at the time I took the picture:

To start, we need to tackle the raw vegetables. If you have a food processor, I’m going to highly recommend using that to break them down. You want the pieces to be around the same size and shape of the ground beef. If you don’t have one, you can cut them up small and it won’t be a big deal. Or, if you have mad knife skills, you can dice them up fine without the food processor.

(You’re reading this blog, you don’t have mad knife skills.)

If you use the food processor, you are still going to have to cut the celery and onions into at least large chunks (unless you want to shove them in whole, in which case, make sure you post that video to YouTube!), and the carrots into smaller chunks. Make sure you do the mushrooms separately from the other vegetables.

Now, to clean the mushrooms, you can do it one of two ways:

  1. Wipe each mushroom individually with a damp paper towel, pausing every few mushrooms to wring it out and get excess dirt off of it, and after you’ve only cleaned 7 mushrooms in 10 minutes drop to your knees and scream WHY GOD DID YOU HAVE TO MAKE MUSHROOMS SIT IN THAT FILTHY DIRT WHY COULDN’T THEY GROW ON TREES LIKE PEACHES OR BUCKEYES BUT NOT THE ONES THAT URBAN MEYER LETS GET AWAY WITH DOMESTIC VIOLENCE!!!
  2. Throw the mushrooms into a bowl, fill it with water, and toss them around a bit, drain it and repeat.


See, “they” want you to think that allowing water to touch a mushroom for more than 1/4 second is going to into chewy water, because Rachael Ray once said that mushrooms are like sponges, so it must be true. Really, swirling them around in a bowl of water for a few seconds isn’t going to do anything to them, and they’re going to cook for so long that any water they do retain is going to be released anyways. And by doing this, you’re saving a bunch of paper towels. Look at you, Mr./Mrs./Ms./Non-binary identifying Environmentalist! You’re going to be the posterperson for the Green New Deal, AOC is going to be calling you any day now!

Anyways, you can cut the mushrooms into large chunks (stem them first, they get kind of nasty and it makes it a lot easier to clean them), but process them in two batches, the ones at the bottom break down very fast, and if you stuff too many in at one time that’s what she said they’re going to be pulverized by the time the ones at the top touch the blade. This is what everything should look like when you’re done chopping.

The only other item you need to prep at this point is the tomatoes. In hindsight, I would probably have used two cans of tomatoes instead of one – tomatoes aren’t a typical ingredient in Bolognese, but since we’ve established that traditional recipes are racist, I have no problem chucking them in.

You want to dump the tomatoes into a bowl, liquid and all, and squish them with your hands. Don’t be too gentle with them, they should break down into small pieces, so really get into it. Think about your ex…or your boss…or why Dances With Wolves and Crash won Best Picture over Goodfellas and Brokeback Mountain and don’t get me started on The Green Book!!!

(pro tip: before you go too crazy on them, make sure you puncture each one, otherwise there’s a non-zero chance that their tomato guts are going to explode all over the place.)

Once you’ve got your vegetables prepped and the tomatoes in full submission, you can start to cook the sauce.

I started with a couple tablespoons of olive oil in a big old stock pot, warmed it up on medium heat, and then I threw in the mushrooms.

Technically, this is another violation of mushroom law, since you’re not supposed to overcrowd the pot with mushrooms because they will steam and not brown. Again, they’re going to cook for so long that it doesn’t much matter, and none of the vegetables are going to get browned in this anyways. And, if the mushroom police didn’t get you on the soaking violation, they’re not going to come after you over this.

After a few minutes, toss the onion/celery/carrot mixture in, stir everything up, and leave them in there for a good while. Let the flavors get to know each other, become friends, start gossiping amongst each other (have you heard about the carrot in the upper right quadrant? Total slut, she’ll do it with any root vegetable, where do you think that got the carrabaga from?), but not for so long that they decide that theirs is the superior quadrant and create Veggie Gilead.

Once they’ve been in there for a while and released most of their water, but before full scale oppression takes place, throw the ground beef in and let it brown up for a while. Ground beef will keep the unruly vegetables in line, it’s like Switzerland with the power of a G-5 nation.

Once the meat is cooked down and you start to see a little bit of browning, add the wine and let it cook off for a few minutes. This isn’t a “they” say cooking rule, this is a your dish will taste really wine-y and crappy if you don’t do it rule. Feel free to not cook it off, but pics or it didn’t happen.

After a few minutes, then yes, you can add the rest of the ingredients to the pot, and bring everything up to a boil, and then reduce the heat and let it simmer for a couple hours.

This is where I remembered that there were a couple ingredients I didn’t include in the original picture. If I had Photoshop skills, I would have found a way to crop those in, like how they have to mess with those team photos where two players got traded to the team three days after the picture, and they tried to paste their heads over the two that got cut after a night out with Pacman Jones.

But I don’t, so soy sauce and fish sauce.

These seem like weird ingredients to throw into an Italian dish, but they add a meaty flavor to the dish, because they have glutamates. What are glutamates…fuck, I don’t know, they’re like electrolytes in Idiocracy.

Also, I threw in a few anchovy filets, which have the same property but they’re Italian, so it doesn’t seem too weird.

Check out the sort of foamy orange stuff on the top. That’s grease and other nastiness, you’ll want to skim that off as it cooks. You don’t have to get all of it, but if you leave it behind it’s going to leave a real greasy aftertaste in your mouth.

About a half hour before you want to eat, get your pasta water boiling. I would give it a couple handfuls of kosher salt. The old trope that “they” like to say is that your water should taste like the sea. Well, I don’t live by the sea, and the last Sea Water ‘R’ Us outlet near me closed last month, so I can only guess as to what it might taste like.

Another ingredient I forgot to take a picture of, and was completely used up by the time I realized it, is the fresh basil. Throw a bunch in about five minutes before you end cooking the sauce.

Then boil your pasta, drain, and serve yourself a bowl or plate of non-authentic non-racist Bolognesish!

Pasta Bolognesish

Serves 4 hungry people, 6 with a regular appetite


2 T olive oil

2 medium onions, peeled and chopped large

2 celery stalks, chopped large

2 carrots, peeled and chopped large

1 pound crimini mushrooms, stems removed, washed and cut large

1 pound ground beef

1/2 cup red wine

3 cups low sodium chicken broth

2 28 oz cans whole peeled tomatoes

3 T tomato paste

2 T soy sauce

1 T fish sauce

3 anchovy filets

1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, sliced into small ribbons

1 pound dry pasta shape of your choice

Salt and pepper to taste


Place half of the celery, carrots, and onions into the bowl of a food processor. Pulse until the pieces are the size of the ground beef strands. Empty contents into a large bowl. Repeat with the other half.

Repeat the same steps with the mushrooms.

Empty the tomato cans into a separate large bowl. Crush the tomatoes by hand into small pieces.

In a large pot, pour in the oil and heat over medium-high heat for a couple minutes. Add the mushrooms and saute until they start to release liquid, about 5 minutes. Add the onion mixture and continue to saute until most of their moisture is released, about 15 minutes.

Add the ground beef, and continue to cook until the beef has released its liquid and begun to slightly brown, about 10-15 minutes.

Pour in the red wine and allow to reduce for a few minutes.

Add the broth, tomatoes, tomato paste, soy sauce, fish sauce, and anchovies to the pot. Increase the heat to high and bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to maintain a simmer for 1 1/2 hours, skimming the fat from the top periodically.

About 30 minutes before serving, fill a large pot with water for the pasta. Generously salt the water, and bring to a boil. Add the pasta and cook for the prescribed time.

When the sauce is ready, remove from the heat and add the basil leaves. Stir to incorporate.

Drain the finished pasta, plate, and top with sauce.

Spatchcocked Turkey, because it doesn’t get much better than this


So, I’m sitting on my couch yesterday, planning out everything for Thanksgiving dinner.  Since I only cook one Thanksgiving a year (we stopped celebrating Canadian Thanksgiving after Trudeau was elected), I had to go back and remind myself how to cook the spatchcocked turkey.  And I’m going through websites, leafing through cookbooks, trying to find it, and then I remembered…


Anyways, I’m going to put the original post below, because I can’t say anything beyond what’s already there…

Ok, I did update the racist items that your drunk uncle is going to say…

And the Browns reference because they don’t totally suck anymore…

And Wong Wu’s was closed three years ago, not two…

But the rest of it is the same, so let’s jump into the wayback machine and head to the olden days of 2017…


One of the reasons that I’m not a trial lawyer is that I’m not quick on my feet.  Like, I’ll be in a conversation with someone, and I’ll take something they say as fact, which on its face is completely laughable, but again, not that swift of a thinker.  And then a few days later, I’ll realize that what they said made no sense, and a simple retort would have rendered their point moot, and I’ll say to myself “that’s what I should have said!”

That’s pretty much what happened when I cooked our Thanksgiving turkey.  It was a glorious bird, if I do say so myself.  And it didn’t hit me until a few days later, oh yeah, people would have loved to have had this recipe for their Thanksgiving.  Oops.

But the truth is, people don’t make enough turkey during the year, which is a shame.  I mean, turkey is delicious (if you’re one of those weirdos that say that turkey sucks and is flavorless, that’s because your mom sucked and was a really crappy cook, and you should be barred from spreading your genes into future generatio…I mean, you need to try this recipe).  It’s relatively cheap – usually turkeys run about $1.50/pound, and you can make so many meals out of one bird.  And, if you cook one outside of Thanksgiving, you don’t have to worry about rushing the carving to feed your shitty drunk uncle that’s going to spend half the night complaining about how Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and Nancy Pelosi are going to force you to have MS-13 gang members over for the holiday next year.  So, do yourself a favor and start learning to make one out of season.

You’re probably saying to yourself at this point:

  • I’m afraid to google spatchcocking, what exactly does that mean?
  • How does he know my family so well?

These are valid questions!

Spatchcocking is a fancy way of saying we’re going to butterfly the bird.

What does that mean?  It means we’re going to take the backbone out of the turkey, and then flattening it out by pushing down on the breastbone until you hear it crack, because WHO’S YOUR DADDY MR. TURKEY YOU’RE NOT SO TOUGH NOW ARE YOU I OWN YOU I AM THE PATRIOTS AND YOU ARE THE SAD LITTLE RAIDERS WITH YOUR JON GRUDEN CHUCKY-FACES!!!

Now, you may be saying to yourself, that seems like a lot of work.  Why would I want to do this?  You seem to have a lot of aggression issues to work out that I’ve managed to get through, why should I crack this guy’s back to help you deal with your problems?

Well Mr./Mrs./Ms. Smarty Pants, the reason why is that you’re going to get the turkey to cook evenly and crisp up the skin to make it absolutely delicious.  That good enough for you?

Here’s the thing: there are two types of bird meat: white and dark.  And they need to cook to different temperatures (the USDA will tell you that white meat needs to be cooked to 165 degrees, and dark to 180.  I will tell you that you can do 150/165 and be just fine.)

When you cook the bird whole, everything gets smushed together, so it’s hard to get everything cooked evenly, so the breast gets done well before the dark.  Also, some of the skin gets bunched up into the meat, so it stays sad and flabby.  But, if you spatchcock it, everything is laid out in one layer, so everything cooks evenly, and all of the skin is exposed to the heat.  The benefit is that you’ll be able to cook your turkey in about half the time of a normal bird, and all of the skin will be cooked super crispy.

So let’s start with buying the bird.  For spatchcocking, you’re going to need to get a relatively small bird, no bigger than 12 pounds.  Anything bigger than that isn’t going to fit on a sheet pan.  Besides, do those 20 pound turkeys look natural to you?  Each one of them looks like Morganna the kissing turkey.  If you’re like the Duggars, or Phillip Rivers, or one of my ancestors that had 10 kids because no one understood birth control back in the 1880’s, get two 10-12 pound turkeys.

Now, there is going to be planning involved.  You’re going to need to get the turkey at least three days ahead of time so it can thaw out, unless you can manage to find a fresh bird somewhere (you’re reading my blog, so you probably can’t).  You could speed up the process by covering it in cold water for several hours, but you’ll probably give yourself salmonella, so just stay away from that.

The biggest inconvenience is that you’re going to need a good deal of refrigerator space for the turkey.  This would be a good time to get rid of that Chinese food from Wong Wu’s, which closed down three years ago.

Now, the day before you cook your turkey, you’ve got a choice to make – am I going to brine the turkey or not?  You’re not going to wet brine it, because it’s a pain in the ass and all you’re going to do is waterlog the turkey, and yeah it’ll be moist but so is a wet sponge and you’re not going to eat that, are you, never mind don’t answer that.

No, instead we’re going to dry brine it, if you’re so inclined.  All this means is that you’re going to coat the skin with a mixture of kosher salt and baking powder.  This will draw the moisture out of the skin, so it’ll crisp up and brown perfectly.  After 12-24 hours of brining, it’s going to get all light and transparent-looking, and you’ll know that it’s ready.

You can also decide not to, but really, if you’re going to take the time to hack a turkey in half, a few extra minutes of work shouldn’t be too much for you.  But, if you decide not to, you’ll probably be ok too.  Just be sure to salt it before you put it in the oven.

Now, the spatchcocking process.  Get yourself a good pair of kitchen shears – really powerful scissors will work in a pinch.  You’re going to cut the backbone out of it, which will take a few minutes.  Save the backbone, we’re going to use that for the gravy later.  Oh, and save the goodies in the plastic bag inside the turkey.

Once you’ve broken the breastbone and the turkey’s spirit, you’re ready to cook!

Now, that backbone you just took out.  You’re going to need to hack that into smaller pieces for the gravy.  If you have a cleaver, this would be a great time to use it.  Also, if you have a cleaver, stay away from me.  If you don’t, do the best you can to find some joints in it to cut through easily.

Once it’s finished cooking, and you’ve given it enough time to rest, it’s carving time.  Again, we’re going to the video, because I am not even going to act like I can teach you that.

When you start carving it, you’re going to hear that lovely crackling sound of super crisp turkey skin, and the bird will be the best one you’ve ever tasted.  And I’m sure you’ll drown it in too much gravy, but that’s on you.

Spatchcocked Roast Turkey and Gravy

From Serious Eats

Serves 10-12


For the brine

6 T kosher salt

2 T baking powder

For the turkey and gravy

3 large onions, chopped

3 large carrots, chopped

4 celery stalks, chopped

12 thyme sprigs

1 whole turkey, spatchcocked and butterflied, backbone and giblets reserved

2 T vegetable oil

1 1/2 quarts chicken or turkey broth

2 bay leaves

3 T butter

4 T flour


Place the oven rack on the middle position in the oven. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

Line a rimmed baking sheet or sheet pan with foil. Mix up 2/3rds of the onions, carrots, celery, and thyme sprigs, and pour them onto the sheet. Place a cooling rack over the vegetables.

Use paper towels to pat the turkey dry, and place it on the rack. Rub one tablespoon of the oil all over the skin. Season the turkey liberally with black pepper (if you don’t brine the turkey, season with salt as well). Tuck the wing tips behind the back.

Move the rack to the oven and roast the turkey until the breasts measure 150 degrees and the thighs register 165 degrees, about 75-80 minutes.

While the turkey is roasting, chop the reserved turkey parts for the gravy.

Add the remaining tablespoon of the oil to a 3 quart saucepan, and heat over medium-high heat. Add the turkey parts to the pan and cook until lightly browned, about five minutes. Add the remaining vegetables to the pan and cook until the vegetables soften and brown, about another five minutes. Add the chicken broth, remaining thyme sprigs, and bay leaves to the pan. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce to a bare simmer for 45 minutes. Strain the solids from the broth, and skim the fat off the top.

In the same pan, melt the butter over medium-high heat. Add the flour and stir constantly with a wooden spoon until the mixture is golden brown. While whisking constantly, add the broth to the pan in a steady stream. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer until reduced to 1 quart, about 20-30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper as needed, and cover the pan to keep warm.

When the turkey is finished roasting, remove it from the oven and allow it to rest for 20 minutes. Carve the turkey as desired. Collect any juices from the turkey, and add them to the gravy.

Pressure Cooker Pho, because the Instant Pot demons make a great soup


Way back in the days of 2015, my soon-to-be-lady and I were trying to figure out where to go to lunch.

Me: Have you tried pho?

My lady: No, what is pho?

Me: Oh, it’s this great Vietnamese beef noodle soup with brisket and flank steak, and you can put all sorts of jalapenos and cilantro in it.

ML: I LOVE CILANTRO!! Where is this magical place?

Me: It’s downtown, Pho Lang Thang.

ML: Ewww!!  We went there for Sharon’s birthday lunch, and she told us to all get these gross sandwiches, and they had radishes and pate on it, and we all hated them!!

It took me a minute to know what sandwich she was talking about, and then I realized it was a banh mi.  Which, depending on where you go, can be a bit of a crapshoot.

(Needless to say, we don’t hang out with Sharon anymore.  Also, her name isn’t really Sharon; it’s Omarosa.)

Nevertheless, I talked her into giving the place a try, and we were hooked.  I like to think that had something to do with us eventually becoming a couple – that’s about as far as my charm goes, semi-exotic foods.

So, pho, as I said above, is at its base a beef noodle soup.  But it’s soooo much more than that.  The broth is so deeply rich with beef flavor, the noodles soak up the broth, and you can add cooked brisket, flank steak, meatballs (which are unusually springy), and raw steak that literally cooks in the broth.

Making it at home, however…that’s another story.

It turns out that making pho broth from scratch is quite difficult.  First, they use a lot of seldom-used parts of the cow, like beef knuckle.  Which, I don’t know, maybe you can find that easily, but down here in Houston the last Beef Knuckles-R-Us went out of business last year, so that’s not easy to come by.

The other main obstacle to making pho at home is the amount of time it takes.  A good beef broth usually takes 3-4 hours or so.  But pho and all its beefy goodness…20 hours!!

20 hours??  Ain’t nobody got time for that!!!  If I wake up at 7:30 on a Saturday, I’m napping by noon, there’s no way I’m staying upright for that long!

So my dreams of cooking pho were dashed, until…

Enter the Instant Pot!


Have we discussed the Instant Pot yet?  How is this possible?  The Instant Pot is fantastic!  It’s a pressure cooker that you can saute in as well!  How have we not discussed this?

This is weird, because typically Instant Pot evangelists put that out there within the first three sentences of introducing themselves.  You know, the same way people say things like:

  • “Hi, I’m Tom, I have a great Crossfit class I can get you into!”
  • “Hi, I’m Kyler, I’m a vegan, do you like killing animals?”
  • “Hi, I’m Dan, 9/11 was an inside job, what do you think about chemtrails?”

Ok, I like the pot, but not like that.  Where the Instant Pot excels is as a pressure cooker (which I will not even pretend to be able to explain how it works, so let’s just assume it’s millions of microscopic evil demons jumping up and down on the food and telling the food to cook quicker because they have to be done by 8:00 so they can watch the latest Handmaid’s Tale episode because Aunt Lydia is soooooo dreamy!!)

Whatever the mysterious pressure cooker demons do, it allows you to make broths and other slow cook meals much faster than you can on a stove top, and without needing to worry about constantly tending to it – this is a huge plus for me.

And, with the pressure cooker demons on my side, I can use regular old soup bones and shanks instead of beef knuckles.  Who’s back in the game!

(Those are seriously three of the weirdest paragraphs I’ve ever written, I’m afraid that I could pass a pee test and still be fired for drug abuse based on those alone.)

Back in the sane world where we cook pho…

The broth itself isn’t terribly complex.  You’re just toasting some spices, sauteing a couple roughly chopped vegetables, adding the bones and the meat, and then let the cooking Gilead demons do their work.

(A quick sidebar about Instant Pot recipes.  You’ll hear IP evangelists tell you how you can cook stews and soups in just 30 minutes.  What they, and IP recipes, fail to acknowledge is the amount of time that it takes for the pot to come to pressure before the cooking begins.  Depending on how much you have in the pot, that could take anywhere from a few minutes to up to 30.  So, caveat emptor, or some other Latin.)

As good as the soup is, the toppings take it to another level.  Just a slice or two of jalapeno pepper, or a sprig of basil or cilantro, is enough to flavor a big bowl on their own.  A little squeeze of a lime wedge adds brightness to it.  Bean sprouts (good luck finding fresh sprouts anywhere) are a popular topping, and add a crunchy texture.  But don’t feel beholden to tradition; go crazy and add whatever else you’d like.  Sriracha, hoisin sauce, carrots, shreds of Urban Meyer’s reputation, whatever floats your boat.

I will not kid you, however.  This is not a simple to put together dish, or a one-pot affair of any sort.  In addition to the Instant Pot, you’re also going to need:

  • a stockpot to cook the noodles in
  • a colander to drain the noodles
  • a bowl to hold the noodles after you’ve drained them
  • a strainer to strain the broth
  • a bowl to strain the broth into
  • a bowl to soak the cooked meat in
  • plates/bowls to hold the toppings
  • serving bowls

This can make for quite a mess in the kitchen.  Around here, you could almost call it…Adam’s…Messy…Kitchen…



Now, pho purists will tell you that the broth should be completely clear.  And if you’re a psychopath that worries about the Pho Police banging down your door, knock yourself out and strain it through a coffee filter or cheesecloth.  The rest of us that have less of an interest in making our lives more complicated will just use a strainer and be happy with it.

Pressure Cooker Pho

Adapted from The New York Times

Serves 4-6 good sized bowls


For broth

3 pounds beef knuckle, marrow or other soup bones, rinsed and drained

1 pound beef brisket, preferably flat, rinsed and drained

1 Fuji apple, cored, peeled, and chopped coarsely

1 large yellow onion, peeled and sliced thickly

2 ounces fresh ginger, peeled and sliced into large coins

2 ½ pieces star anise (if you can’t find star anise, 2 teaspoons of anise seed will work, fennel seed could be used in a pinch)

1 3-inch cinnamon stick

3 whole cloves

9 c water

2 ½ t kosher salt

2 T fish sauce

1 T Sugar

For assembly

6 ounces beef steak, ribeye, flank, or skirt steak

12 ounces dried narrow rice sticks or pad Thai-style noodles

½ small yellow onion, sliced into thin rounds

2 green onions, greens and whites diced small

¼ cup chopped cilantro leaves

Several sprigs of Thai or Italian basil

1 jalapeno or Thai chili, sliced very thin

1 lime, quartered


To make the broth

Put the star anise, cinnamon and cloves in a large Instant Pot. Using the sauté function, toast for a few minutes, stirring frequently, until just fragrant. Add the onion and ginger, stir, and cook for a minute or two until just browned.

Add the water, bones, beef, apple and salt, and lock the lid.  Set timer for 30 minutes.

While the broth is cooking, to make your life easier

Put the steak in the freezer for 15 to 20 minutes, to make it easier to cut.  Slice very thinly across the grain, and set aside.

Cover the dried noodles in hot tap water and soak for 15-20 minutes.  Drain, then rinse and set aside.

Soak the yellow onion in water for 10 minutes.  After 10 minutes, drain and set on a plate with the green onion slices, cilantro, basil, and jalapeno slices.

Once the broth has finished cooking

Allow the Instant Pot pressure to release naturally, about 15 to 20 minutes.

While the pressure is releasing

Fill a stockpot with water and bring to a rolling boil.

Once the pressure is fully released

Carefully remove the lid.  Transfer the meat to a bowl (if you used shanks, add those as well), cover with water and soak for 10 minutes.  Once cooled, cut into bite sized pieces.

Strain the broth into a medium stockpot or saucepan through a mesh strainer, and discard all solids.  Add the fish sauce, sugar, and salt to the broth taste.  Bring to a simmer over medium heat.

Add the noodles to the boiling water, and cook until the noodles are just tender, about 2-3 minutes. Remove from water and divide noodles among 4-6 bowls.

To each bowl, add the cooked and raw beef, arranging the raw slices flat.

Ladle broth over the noodles and beef.

Top with onions, green onions, jalapenos, or whatever other toppings you like.

Orecchiette with Corn, Cherry Tomatoes, Basil, and Pine Nuts, because you can’t trust a farmer



IMG_0397Last weekend, I decided to get all creative and stuff, and went to a farmers market to see what they had for sale, and then create a dish around it.

And I saw some ears of corn, and decided I just had to make a dish around them, because I’m sure they picked the ears this morning from their backyard and they’re totally fresh and no I don’t even need to check them because why would a farmer sell product that wasn’t totally fres…


Fuck that lying fucking farmer!

The next ear of corn had a worm in it, which was too fast for me to take a picture of.  Which, I guess I have to respect.  I mean, if you’re wanting to replicate the whole farm to lying farmer field, what better way to do that than to add a slimy worm to your nasty-ass lying corn.

By this point, I was determined, come hell or high water, to make a dish with corn as the centerpiece.  Also, using the phrase “come hell or high water” outs me as a 126 year old man that took his first date to a sodajerk for a phosphate and then spent the rest of his life blaming those damn Irish for the decline of civilization and got the off-the-menu Fox News only package from Comcast…where was I again…

Oh, yes, corn.  Luckily, there was another neighborhood farmers market right around the corner.  I think it was called Kroger.  This time I didn’t trust their corn so I pulled back the husks and saw that these ears, in fact, were telling the truth.  So, up yours, local corn!

Now, one place that did tell the truth was the farmer that sold cherry tomatoes, and holy shit were they good!  Even though they cost way more than supermarket tomatoes, they were so far and away a superior product that they were worth it.  I actually ate a few on their own, like candy.

(I can’t stress enough how amazing of an accomplishment this is.  When I was growing up, I would literally not touch a vegetable outside of corn/potatoes/mushrooms.  This is an undeniable miracle.  If you told my mom when I was a kid that this would eventually happen, she would say, oh sure, right, and around then there’s going to be an orange-skinned president that’s a narcissist megalomaniac and brags about grabbing women by theOHHHH I SEE HOW THIS ALL HAPPENED!!!

Sorry, if I knew this would happen, I would have stuck with the other vegetables.  My bad.)

So I’ve got the corn and tomatoes, and they’re good enough that I don’t want to drown them in too much stuff, so I figured that a good pasta salad would work.  Luckily, I had some orecchiette laying around, which makes sense, because it’s an ear shaped pasta.  You know, ear pasta…ears of corn…you get it??  I got all sorts of good dad jokes waiting for you.

I also had some basil laying around, as well as some pine nuts.

Now, I was all set to make a joke about pine nuts not being from pines, because I’ve never seen nuts in a pine cone, and why do they call them pine nuts if they’re not from pines.  But…the tiniest bit of research showed that they do, in fact, come from pine trees, just a small number of species.  So, there went that…oh screw it…


Anyways, the not fake pine nuts need to be toasted to get the flavor out of them.  I’ve never seen a recipe where pine nuts weren’t toasted.  I guess it’s too much trouble for big pine nut to pre-toast them.

(Actually, there’s a perfectly good reason – they would go rancid – but still…)

Overall, this is a pretty healthy recipe – I sauteed the corn in some butter, but you could do it in some olive oil, or even dry in a non-stick skillet.  So it won’t kill you if you throw some shredded Parmesan cheese on top as well.

Orecchiette with Corn, Cherry Tomatoes, Basil, and Pine Nuts

Adapted from Epicurious

Serves 6


1/2 c pine nuts

4 ears of corn, shucked and kernels removed

4 T butter

1 pound orecchiette

2 pints cherry tomatoes, halved

1/2 c basil leaves, cut into small strips

1/4 c Parmesan cheese


Heat a skillet over medium high heat.  Add pine nuts and toast, stirring frequently, until they just begin to turn a light brown color.  Pour into a large serving bowl and set aside.

Melt the butter in the same skillet, and add corn.  Cook, stirring occasionally, until the kernels begin to color, about 5-6 minutes.  Remove and add to the serving bowl.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  Cook the orecchiette according to the package instructions.

Drain the pasta, and add to the bowl.

Add the tomatoes and basil. Stir to combine, making sure not to smash the tomatoes.  Top with the cheese and serve.