Maybe you’ve seen the Pizza Hut commercials proclaiming that they now serve pasta. This got me thinking: What is the advantage of ordering pasta delivered from them?

Let’s say it takes them thirty minutes to get to your place. In thirty minutes, you could pull a Rachael Ray and do the easiest “cooking” possible: Boil water (gas and water being virtually free), throw in some Ronzoni ($2 a box), toss with jar of shitty Ragu ($3) and maybe sprinkle some of that Kraft parmesan “cheese” from that green shaker. Or if you want to get fancy, you can sprinkly some 4C bread crumbs on top and stick it under the broiler for a couple of minutes. Estimated cost: $5 for a shitload (”shitload” meaning four to six servings).

Cooking in this bachelor-chow type manner is a half-step harder than heating up a Hungryman dinner (which probably is available in pasta flavor). You can argue that it requires the same amount of effort to mute the television, call Pizza Hut, order, put on pants, answer the door and do the math to get your change back. Pizza Hut’s pasta feeds four (not sure if the portion is for four fat asses as an entree or four USDA recommended portions) and costs $12 plus tip (unless you are cheap bastard)*.

Now, I haven’t tried Pizza Hut’s pasta, but I’ll bet twenty bones that it tastes the same as the recipe above or even a Lean Cuisine or something. And I bet you are more likely to get the shits from The Hut, too.

Check out the ingredients and nutritional contents.

(*If you are a severe recluse with social anxiety disorder, you can order online or through text messaging – without pants on.)

Lady, if you can afford that manicure, you can afford more delicious, nutritious food.

Here’s another entry from The Zodiac Cookbook.

Taurus: April 21-May21. Its symbol is the Bull, and its element is Fire. The Emerald is its birthstone, and Friday is the luckiest day of the week.

The Taurean is a person of high achievement but great innate modesty. You are persistent and persevering, and a great admirer of things of the past. you hoard your mother’s and your grandmother’s recipes and set great store by family dishes which you cook for all holidays and family celebrations. Should a recipe fail, you will not abandon it, but will try it again and at once! The Taurean enjoys the good things of life and should guard against eating or drinking to excess. You love sweet desserts: the richer, the better! And a box of candy can be our downfall! Since your love for color is marked, you will create colorful combinations of foods and interesting menus. The Taurean is born under the money sign, and expensive food and drink are especially to your liking!

With your sensitivity to the arts, you provide a pleasant background for your dinner parties.

Here are a few favorite dessert recipes which will suit your sweet tooth!

Sandra Lee type recipes for lemon ice-box cake, choco soufflé, carrot cake deluxe and surprise pies are listed.

Women like chocolate? That’s crazy talk.

You probably already know of my dislike of the concept of brunch. I don’t believe in it and I think it’s evil: It ruins a big Sunday night dinner. I’m all like, “Hey, you wanna come over for Sunday roast?” and you’re all like, “I’d love to, but I had a really big brunch.” and I’m all like, “You cock.” Also, I don’t like breakfast foods: When I wake up, the last thing I want is a shitload of carbs with sugar on it.

There’s some other food thing people obsess over that I’m not into: Pizza. It’s not that I don’t enjoy pizza. The thing is that that I don’t crave pizza. Everyone I know has a major hankerin’ for pizza every so often. But not me. I am abnormal and crave things like salad. Even at Pizza Express (which I go to everytime I go to The U.K.), I order the pizza with the salad on it (the SoHo pizza–which has raw “rocket” aka roquette aka arugula). Should I be ashamed to be a New Yorker? I know what good pizza is and I know where to find it. I just don’t want it as much as other people do.

A Jedi craves not these things.

For your health!

Ferran Adria wrote: “The difference today between home cooking and restaurant cooking is wider than it ever has been. In the old days, even as recently as when I began to cook, the amateur was nearly at the level of the professional. That’s all changed massively. Now the difference in difficulty between cooking done at home and haute cuisine is on a scale of one to a hundred.”

I love home cooking. I greatly appreciate Cathy’s food blog Not Eating Out in New York: She does some amazing, creative home cooking and on a limited budget. On the other hand, my greatest pleasure is eating out in New York. There are amazing restaurants doing things the home cook can’t (because of resources or scale or cost or time). Plus I love sitting back, enjoying company, trying new things, being waited upon and having someone else cook amazing food. And because it’s a once-in-awhile luxury (plus the fact that I know how much hard work goes into it to make it perfect and seamless), I can appreciate it even more.

There’s a secret in NYC dining that shouldn’t be a secret. It doesn’t get written up for some reason. It’s Del Posto’s Enoteca. For $45 you get five amazing courses in the same dining room where they serve $120 monk fish to rich business men and ladies who lunch. Tonight, we had things like octopus with al dente white beans and house-made orchiette with rabbit ragu and pork saltimbocca.

The dining room is amazing–reminiscent of olde timey New York. Really, this is one of those places that make you really appreciate being able to afford to eat out. If you are looking for an upscale place (three stars from NY Times!) to take your visiting parents without spending all of your rent money, then I urge you to please please please go there to eat some of the best Italian food you can get in this country. No reservations required.

Del Posto
85 10th Ave (between 15th and 16th Streets)
New York, NY 10011
212-497-8090

$45!

Sure, you can get purebred luncheon meats like ham or turkey. But olive loaf is an unholy alliance of bologna (snouts and asses pureed and put back together again– like Frankenstein but not as lonely) and green olives with pimentos. The result is a sweet, sweet forbidden fruit. And that is the money fruit. Er, money meat, in this case.

At work we started making our own dried sopresetta and chorizo (courtesy of Charcuterie and chemicals) and lamb flavored Slim Jim type dealies. I really want to figure out how to make olive loaf.

Here’s a haiku for my love:

Oh, my olive loaf
Soon you will be hip, trendy
NY Mag bloggings

Soon, my pretty, soon. 

It’s that time again. Time to look at the Google searches that got people to my little food blog. This time, I’m even gonna attempt to help people with their problems!

Searches are listed with most common to least common. So, again, people are obsessed with male cooks on television being gay.

• nathan lyon gay
• robert irvine gay
• bobby deen gay
• andrew zimmern “fat fuck”
• “hot sex” drink
• food fuck
• fresh hot good fish steamed light white healthy delicious
• fuck gout
• fried pork chop good for gout (I’m gonna go with ‘no’ for this one.)
• gay goose “michael chiarello”
• how to have a clean butthole (Um. Wash it daily?)
• how to make chinese soy sauce porn (Chinese people + soy sauce + camera = success!)
• lesbians sharing chewed food
• lose sex apetite after i drink (Then don’t drink, whiskey dick. Duh.)
• penis handled cookware
• extreme huge pussy (See: “robert irvine gay”)
• turd too big
• bizzare foods andrew zimmern penis
• dog ate mac n cheese now has diarrhea
• pho, honky bowl
• seal feces recipe (Dude.)
• “take home chef”+do they plant a person in the supermarket (I dunno, but they should plant a host in there.)
• ate expired banana chip (Oh, no! You’re gonna die!)
• gordon ramsay your cooking on a burnt pan you fucking donkey
• gout olives doritos (I’d totally try that flavor)
• the fat king hnery that ate all the food

My pick for funniest, stupidest, saddest AND most grammatically incorrect:

• how can i do to get my cock big with what foods to eat

Gay.

Gay.

Totally gay.

Just a fat guy that likes penis.

You can tell someone is a restaurant cook just by looking at how fucked up their hands are. If you are an avid cook, then chances are you’ve hurt yourself doing it. Either with a knife or through heat. This isn’t through any lack of skill, shit just happens. And the more you cook, the more likely you are to fuck your shit up.

So, there are three things you can do with your knife: Stab (and in an out motion with the tip), slice (a back and forth sawing motion) and chop (and up and down motion as with an axe). Guess which method I used to break down this thumb?

If you guessed chop, then you are right. You know when you are dealing with an onion and sometimes you get a weird layer underneath the crispy skin and before the to-be-delicious flesh? A kind of leathery layer? Well my paring knife slipped of that layer and landed into my fingers (I got two fingers with one motion). This was on a Wednesday afternoon and I had to come up with multiple ways to keep it safe and clean for the rest of the work week, but still be able to use that digit.

Here are some products in my arsenal for minor mishaps:

Continue reading…

I first heard about Reds Produce from a FOH trailer at The Restaurant. He mentioned it was right around the corner from where I live. I looked it up on Gothamist (which was the only site that had any real information about the place) and walked by it last night after Matt and I got burgers from Hope & Anchor and picking up a large supply of Twinning’s English Breakfast Tea from Fairway ($10 for a hundred pack!).

Tonight Matt and I went for dinner. It’s a super tiny tapas bar (28-seats and a max of 44 people) right by Moonshine. Working the bar was Red himself (who was born in northern Spain and used to be in the hardcore band YDL) along with Pamela–both extremely welcoming and friendly. They’ve only been open three weeks and are awaiting their liquor liscense–they will have draught beers and Spanish wine ($5 house wine!). Soon they will be selling produce and dried goods–most of it is imported from Spain. So I guess locavores aren’t supposed to be down with it, but dude, it’s got less “carbon footprints” then actually flying to Spain. In your self-righteous face!

Meat and cheese plate: Featuring drunken goat cheese (the rind is washed in wine), serrano ham, membrillo, dried fig and almond cake, some really extreme gnarly blue cheese (cabrales) that looks like it’s fifty years old, manchego and some other cheese.

Small tres colores salad: Carrot with tarragon, beet root and celery root.

Warm chorizo that was super intense. I’m talking caliente, papi!

They want to have live music as well as screen films from local artists. At first they were open ass early for breakfast, but as of now they are open every evening until ten (they are going to change their hours to stay open later).

Reds Produce is located at 289 Columbia Street between Summit and Woodhull (in that area some people call Carroll Gardens, others call Red Hook and a few call Columbia Street Waterfront), Brooklyn (718) 506-5432

Being a grown-up means things like responsibility and jobs and taxes and cleaning up after yourself. It also means you can do whatever the hell you want. From eating chorizo, chippos and soda for dinner to staying up until four in the morning playing videos games to not being forced to go to church or piano lessons. And that’s fucking awesome.

It also means that you get to buy your own shit for your own place. No more plastic on flower printed couches and and stupid, ugly, useless chotchkeys. Shit like new dishes!

Matt and I went to Fishs Eddy on 19th and Broadway to get new plates, bowls and flatware recently.

We selected from The Diner Whites line, which are off-white, of restaurant quality (read: really heavy and sturdy) and has a large selection of shapes and sizes.

We got six each of large dinner plates ($6 each), lunch plates ($4.50 each), soup plates ($5 each) and cereal bowl ($6 each). We selected modern and heavy 18/10 stainless steel flatware, which cost $5 for each piece.

Fishs Eddy is located at 889 Broadway at 19th Street in Manhattan.

You should buy these dishes if you hate getting laid.