ATE: The N'Duja Cometh

This is the truth of my everyday eating, a return from the market with broccoli, rapini and brussels sprouts to blanche.

Meanwhile, chicken thighs braise away in a guajillo tomato sauce.

I ended up reducing this down a lot more, for a variation on tinga.

It was for tacos. But the leftovers went all over the joint. With rapini ...

... with pasta scraps ...

... on challah, with pickles and cilantro.

I don't normally eat bread at home but my niece was over.

Shrimp, about to be fried.

A variation on acorda, a Portuguese dish of fried bread (sort of like stuffing without being stuffed). Here I've done it with eggplant, cilantro and a bit of anchovie.

The shrimp, acorda and a little popcorn sauce. It sounds goofy but this was a winner.

More pasta scraps.

More shrimp.

This mug gets neglected.

My precious money about to be parted with.

Sad, I thought I'd eat some vegetables (tomatillo, eggplant) before dinner. But then it was dinner.

Brando's got this ridiculously spicy batch of n'duj, as in too hot to serve in the restaurant. He gave me a hunk, which has become my all-purpose seasoning.

Dinner one night: A head of broccoli with n'duja.

Dinner another night: a pound of brussels sprouts with n'duja. So, y'know, a lot of green vegetables with a teensy bit of pork. But pork bearing a wealth of smokiness and spiciness.

A dear friend gave me her super-secret bourbon sour recipe. What a difference proper instruction makes.

Butchie got a shipment of Kit Kat products from Japan. I really like the pumpkin flavour. But this is not a healthy addiction.

A yes, my pasta making day with the niece. It was for an assignment for her cooking class.

She said she'd made dough in school and asked how it was any different to do it by hand, instead of in a mixer.

Here's how it's different. It's a lot more work.

But also, when she was done, she said that it had a far better consistency.

Pear mostarda for tortelli di zucca filling.

Roasting the pumpkin.

About to crank this thing out.

She wanted photos of every step. I'm not sure if it was part of her assignment or if she wanted proof that she did it all herself (SHE DID).

Adorbicci? The finished tortelli di zucca, garnished with shaved parmesan and amaretti.

Uncle Dr.-Prof. surveys his minion/niece's work.