bakers' apples

Bakers' apples are one of my favourite, fairly simple desserts that aren't quite as terrible for you as they taste. A couple of months ago, my friend Jessica and I had a baking night in her kitchen. It was a success; I produced four lovely apples, and she made a couple dozen chocolate chunk cookies. I feel as though, despite baking being a worldwide hobby, our little night had more to do to a link back home to the southern US than simply a desire for a sugar coma. All forms of baked apples -- sweet glazed apple wedges, apple pie, apple strudel, and bakers' apples -- make me think of my childhood, and all are made infinitely better by the addition of a rich vanilla ice cream. This recipe is not an exception.

Ingredients:

3/4 cup oats

3/4 cup flour

2/3 cup light brown sugar, packed (light, fine demerara can be substituted if necessary)

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1 stick cold unsalted butter, cubed

4 Braeburn apples (my favourite. Fuji will also work well)

4 teaspoons honey

1 pinch of kosher salt

Hardware:

medium bowl for mixing

paring knife

baking sheet or pie dish

refrigerator

small spoon

wooden spoon for mixing (if you don't like getting your hands dirty)

melon baller (or a teaspoon)

oven

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350°F/175°C.

Combine all the dry ingredients and the butter cubes in the mixing bowl. I recommend combining with your hands because it produces a better texture, but a wooden spoon can be used if you're squeamish. Rub the ingredients together between your fingertips until you have small clumps in a loose sandy mixture. Place bowl in the refrigerator while you prepare the apples.

Using the paring knife, cut a small bit from the bottom of the apples to create a stable, level surface. Cut into the top of the apples as if you were beginning to carve a pumpkin. It's easiest to cut a cylindrical cone shape to start. Scoop the rest of the core and seeds out with the melon baller (if you have one) or a small spoon. Be extra careful not to push through the bottom of the apples.

Place the apples on the baking sheet or pie dish and retrieve your earlier mixture from the refrigerator. Pour a teaspoon of honey into each of the apples, trying to coat the inside walls as much as possible. Spoon (or use your hands) the mixture into the apples. Pack firmly until the mixture is heaped on top (and overflowing onto the sides if you're like me).

Place in oven on top or middle rack for about 40 minutes. Check on them after 30 minutes. You're looking for the top of the filling to be a lovely golden brown and the apple tender enough for your paring knife to poke through the skins without much resistance. If you can manage, let them cool for 10 minutes before diving in.

chocolate peanut butter cups

I really love to make desserts. I never had much of a sweet tooth growing up (I was the kid who gladly handed over most of my Hallowe'en candy to my mum, or else left it rotting in a plastic bag inside my pumpkin basket until discovering it in time for the next years trick-or-treating.), but I've definitely developed one in the years since. One of the candies I have become attached to is the Reese's peanut butter cup. I don't know if they have them over here in the UK, but my experiences with local peanut butter so far have not been completely positive. In fact, peanut butter seems to be on the top of the lists of foods Americans bring back from their first return visit to the States. You'll be happy to know, though, that UK peanut butter does just fine in these little guys; even the Americans give their thumbs up.

Ingredients:

1 bag of chocolate chips (around 200g) (milk or dark, sweet or semi-sweet, doesn't matter much. The dark seems to be a big hit for me.)

1/2 cup smooth peanut butter

3 tablespoons graham cracker crumbs (digestives will substitute on this side of the pond)

1/4 powdered/confectioners/icing sugar

1 pinch of salt

Hardware:

mini muffin cup liners

glass or metal bowl

stove

pot in which the bowl can sit above water inside

microwave (optional)

clean tiny paint brush (optional)

mini muffin tin or silicon muffin cups (optional, but helpful!)

freezer

spatula

large mixing spoon

mixing bowl

2 regular spoons

Directions:

Pour a little bit of water into the pot and place on low heat on stove. Pour the chocolate chips into the glass/metal bowl and place over the pot. Stir the chips occasionally until they all melt. Alternatively, you can melt the chocolate in a microwave. Heat the chips for 20 seconds at a time, stirring between each interval, until they all melt.

If you have a small brush, use it to paint the chocolate up the sides of the muffin liners. Make sure the bottom of the cups are coated in chocolate as well. Placing the liners in silicon cups makes it easier to manipulate so the paper doesn't flop around in your hands. A muffin tin also does the job, though it allows a little less flexibility. You should use a little less than half of your melted chocolate for this stage.

Place the cups in the freezer for about 15 minutes. This time allows them to set up and makes the final construction much easier.

While the cups freeze, mix the cracker crumbs, peanut butter, sugar, and salt in a bowl. Mix thoroughly, but do not whip. A slightly crunchy consistency makes for a better end product.

If your chocolate needs reheating, it's time to do that. Remove the painted liners from the freezer and scoop a bit of the peanut butter mixture into each cup. The easiest way to do it is with two spoons scooping each other. Make sure not to spread it to the edges. Scoop more chocolate on top of the peanut butter to cover. Be as generous as you want and as your chocolate will allow.

Pop the finished cups back into the freezer to set. You can store them in the refrigerator after about 20 minutes, or just take them out and share.

fried pickles

To prove that I am from the South (you know, the one with the capital 'S'), I'm offering up one of my favourite guilty pleasures. It's been a few years since I've actually eaten any fried pickles, but my taste buds still go a little tingly just thinking about them. The first time I tried them, we were having dinner with my father's brother and his family at Country's Barbeque in Columbus, GA. When my cousin requested an order of fried pickles for the table, I was actually fairly disgusted at the very idea. I have always enjoyed good dill pickles, but why would anyone deep-fry them? The answer is likely the same as why novelties like fried twinkies and fried pizza exist: boredom, or the "hey guys, watch this" attitude. The combination of flavours in just one bite of fried pickles is immense, and, like any good Southern meal, ranch dressing is an integral part. So, enjoy some good home-cooking. Just don't tell anyone where you got the recipe.

Ingredients:

2-2 1/2 quarts peanut oil

1 jar dill pickles, cut into spears or long strips

1 cup butter milk

2 cup cornmeal

1 tablespoon kosher salt

ranch dressing for dipping

Hardware:

cast iron dutch oven (4-5 quart size)

oil thermometer

stove

paper towel

2 shallow bowls/pans for battering

2 forks (easiest to control movement; tongs tend to damage the final product)

draining rack

Directions:

Fill the dutch oven about half with peanut oil and place on stovetop. Heat the oil on medium-high until it reaches 390-400°F/200°C.

Place cut pickles on paper towels and roll them up. This helps to remove excessive moisture from the surface of the pickle and allows the batter to adhere better.

Pour buttermilk into one of the battering bowls, and mix the cornmeal and kosher salt together in the second. Dust your hands with a little cornmeal if you plan on using them to move the pickles between batter ingredients (it's easiest but messy). Otherwise, practice your use of those forks, grabbing in a V-shape.

Place a pickle into the buttermilk and then into the cornmeal. Make sure that the pickle appears to be covered. Repeat the dunking process. Wait until you have double-dunked about 4 or 5 pickle slices before introducing them to the oil. Using the forks (not your hands this time), gently place the pickles down into the oil.

Allow the pickles to cook for 2 minutes (1 minute if you chose to cut into strips), turning them with a fork if necessary. Remove from oil and place on draining rack for 5 minutes.

Serve hot with ranch dressing.

pecan-crusted spinach artichoke dip

This recipe is one that I get requests for very often. It was always between this dip and my cucumber sandwiches for my honours society events. (I learned I like cucumbers when it was requested that I make hundreds of the little finger sandwiches. I spent about 7 hours preparing them, which is utterly ridiculous, but, as I've said before, I'm not so quick at the chopping.) The spinach and artichoke dip was also my main contribution to each years' Thanksgiving dinner; I'm not sure how they got on without it. It's not a difficult recipe, but the ingredients can run a bit expensive, so it's certainly a special occasion type of dish. Of course, you can decide what a special occasion is to you. I have typically served the dip with water crackers, but it is also delicious on sliced French bread. I also use a food processor for the artichoke hearts and the onion because I prefer smaller pieces to integrate into the dip. I'm not a fan of finding big, incongruous chunks, but some people like it.

Ingredients:

18 ounces frozen creamed spinach, defrosted (you can also cream your own spinach, but I like the shortcut)

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

1/2 cup mayonnaise

14 ounce can artichoke hearts, drained and coarsely chopped

1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese

1/3 cup chopped onion

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1/3 cup crushed herb stuffing

1/2 cup chopped pecans (I hold four pretty pecan halves back for decor)

Hardware:

large spoon

oven

large mixing bowl

food processor for chopping onion and artichoke hearts

2 quart glass baking dish

Directions:

Preheat oven to 400°F/200°C.

Add cream cheese and mayonnaise together in the mixing bowl and stir to combine. Stir in the creamed spinach, artichoke hearts, parmesan, onion, and cayenne pepper.

Transfer the mixture to the baking dish and level the top as much as possible. Pour the stuffing and pecan onto the mixture. Try to cover the entire dish with an even coating of the pecan/stuffing.

Place dish in the oven for 20-25 minutes or until the mixture is heated through and the topping has browned. My tip for decoration is to remove the dish about 5 minutes before it is done and add the four reserved pecan halves in the center, then return the dish for the remainder of the cooking time. Rarely do I put any extra effort into making a "pretty" dish, but this is simple enough.

Serve the dip in the baking dish if possible.

blueberry soda

Blueberries, to me, represent the ultimate comfort. I'm not entirely sure why, as the process of collecting the berries before the birds get to them isn't so pleasant. The house where I lived while finishing my undergraduate degree had mature fruit growing in the backyard; a pear tree loomed over the neighbourhood, allowing two broad fig trees to grow in its shade, but my favourite of all was hidden behind the toolshed. I'm not sure whether it was an accident that the blueberry bush was planted between the chain-link fence and the shed, or whether either was added without much thought after the fact. All I know is that I would squeeze myself between the two structures to get to the plump fruit, ducking under branches, avoiding the bees that guarded the area, and referring to my great producer as a "blueberry tree". It's very hard to find blueberries here in Northern Ireland. I fully expect to return with my arms full of blueberry syrup after my next trip back to the States. The blueberry soda is light and refreshing enough that I don't even remember the mosquito whelps and sun blisters I encountered while slaving away in such a tight space. What reality?

Ingredients:

20 ounces whole blueberries

2 cups water

7 ounces sugar (vanilla sugar makes a nice touch if you have it)

the juice of 1 lime

8 fluid ounces carbonated water/seltzer water for each glass

Hardware:

medium saucepan

stove

cheesecloth

colander

bowl in which the colander can sit suspended by the edges

wooden spoon

glass jar with lid or other canning/heatproof storage vessel

Directions:

Place blueberries in the saucepan with water. Place on medium-high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and allow it to simmer for 15 minutes.

Remove the saucepan from the heat. Line the colander with the cheesecloth and suspend in the bowl. Drain the berries/water through the cheesecloth and colander. Allow it to sit for 15 minutes to cool.

Gather up the corners of the cheesecloth and use your hands to squeeze out as much of the blueberry juice as possible. This is the good stuff.

Return the juice to the saucepan and add the sugar and lime juice. Bring this mixture to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly until the sugar has completely dissolved. Once the sugar has dissolved, allow the mixture to boil for two minutes before pouring it into the glass jar. Let it cool completely before lidding.

Store the blueberry syrup in the refrigerator and make sure to close the lid tightly after each use.

For the soda, combine 1/4 cup of the syrup with 8 fluid ounces of carbonated water. Add some ice and maybe a slice of lime -- dress it up however you like.

oven-roasted root vegetables

As strange as it may sound, I had never heard the term "root vegetable" used in any sort of dish until I moved to the UK. I knew certain foods were root vegetables, but I'd always heard them referred to by their individual names when it came to things I actually ate. Recently, I've fallen for root vegetables, especially in dishes where I can mix them together. This dish is a relatively simple one, once you take the time to prepare each of the veggies. I'm particularly slow at chopping and peeling (call it "careful" and "meticulous"), which is the main reason I never truly thought about becoming a chef. I'd have to move directly to the point in my career where I would have someone to do my chopping for me and presented as a mise en place; I never want to be the person responsible for someone else's.

Ingredients:

Cooking spray (or oil for greasing)

3 medium red potatoes, cut into 1 inch chunks

1 rutabega, peeled and cut into 1 inch chunks

2 cups whole baby carrots

2 medium red onions, each cut into 8 wedges

1 pound celery root (celeriac), peeled and cut into 1 inch chunks

2 medium parsnips, peeled and cut into 1 inch chunks

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or thyme

5 cloves garlic, cut into thin slices

1 cup vegetable broth

1 tablespoon olive oil

Hardware:

oven

large roasting pan (or shallow baking sheet)

metal spoon

Directions:

Preheat oven to 425°F/220°C. Spray to grease the roasting pan.

Add potatoes, rutabega, carrots, onions, celery, parsnips, rosemary, garlic, and olive oil to the pan and stir together. Place into the oven and roast for 30 minutes.

Remove the vegetables from the oven. Pour the vegetable broth over the vegetables and stir to coat. Return to the oven and roast for an additional 20 minutes (or until the vegetables are all fork-tender).

crepes

Crepes are one of those mysteries of life. It takes a bit of practice to get them right, but having a good base recipe and the right tools definitely helps the process along. While I have a favourite crepe stand at the Saturday market here in Belfast, it's quite satisfying to make a bunch of them at home. I have three recipes for crepes: the standard, the savoury, and the sweet. They're all variations on the same basic ingredient list, and there aren't really any changes in the preparation.

A note on picking the right pan: Some dishes don't really care what pan you use. Crepes are not one of those dishes. They're French. They're snooty. Pick a pan that is heavy, as this will provide good heat distribution. Look for the "shoulders" of the pan to be steep for pretty, round crepes, and for the sides to be short and flared out for you to flip it easily. Your crepes will love you for it, or, at least, tolerate your existence for long enough to provide a tasty meal.

Ingredients:

1/2 cup water

3/4 cup milk

1 cup flour

2 large eggs

3 tablespoons melted butter (plus a bit for the pan)

Hardware:

Crepe-approved pan

blender

refrigerator

spatula and additional flipping tool (a cake-frosting knife works really well if you happen to have one of those lying around)

covered bowl for early preparation storage, if you wish

cutting board

stove

large plastic sealable bags for storage, if you wish

Standard preparation:

Combine all ingredients in a blender and place on pulse setting for 10 seconds. Allow the batter to sit in the refrigerator for at least one hour; it will keep for up to 48 hours. You can leave the batter in the blender glass if you wish, or you can pour it into a covered bowl. The method really doesn't matter, but it is important to let it rest so as to allow as many bubbles to escape as possible. Fewer bubbles mean fewer tears.

Heat your pan and add butter to coat the surface. Pour one ounce of the batter into the centre of the pan and swirl the pan to spread the batter evenly. Cook for 30 seconds and flip over. Cook for another 10 seconds and then lay flat on the cutting board to cool evenly.

Continue the process until all the batter is used.

Crepes can be stored in plastic bags in the refrigerator for a few days or the freezer for a couple of months. Make sure you allow frozen crepes to thaw lying flat before trying to separate and use them.

Savoury crepes:

original recipe +

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup chopped herbs, spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, etc.

Sweet crepes:

original recipe +

2 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 tablespoons liqueur (whatever flavour you would enjoy)

mushroom crepe cake

In my mind, it's awfully hard to go wrong with crepes. Maybe it's my French side sneaking out (I have the same issue with baguettes). Mushrooms are one of those foods I didn't try until I was an adult. My mother told me they were gross, and my father was rather ambivalent to them. We never had mushrooms of any type in the house, and I steered away from them on menus because I never saw my parents eat them. As it turns out, I quite like mushrooms, much more so when crepes are involved.

Ingredients:

1 cup diced yellow onions

3 tablespoons butter (plus a bit to butter the sheet pan)

2/3 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced thinly

1/3 pound cremini mushrooms (dice half finely, slice half thinly)

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

4 ounces milk

1/2 cup mild white cheese (mozzarella or provolone is best), shredded

savoury crepes*

2 tablespoons chives, thinly sliced

1/4 cup parmesan, shredded

Hardware:

large saute pan

knives

wooden spoon

ladle or scooping spoon

sheet pan

cutting board (or other surface)

oven with broiler

Directions:

Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in the saute pan and add the onion to sweat. Add all the mushrooms and the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter. While stirring with the wooden spoon, season the mixture with salt and pepper. Cook on medium heat until the mushrooms are soft.

Add the milk and allow to simmer until the liquid is reduced by half. Add the white cheese and melt into the milk. You should have a creamy consistency (think of the middle of a pot-pie).

Butter the sheet pan and layer two crepes to form the bottom layer. The original recipe called for only one crepe, but I've found that the bottom one sometimes sticks. If you over-butter, it doesn't stick, but it stays soggy. Having an extra crepe is a much better choice.

Spread a thin layer of the mushroom mix onto the crepes with the ladle. Sprinkle a few chives. Lay another crepe on top, spread more filling, and top with a few more chives. Repeat the process until you have run out of mushroom filling. Place one more crepe on top and sprinkle with parmesan.

Place under the broiler of your oven until the parmesan is melted and golden. Remove from pan and place onto cutting surface. Slice cake into wedges and serve immediately.

Yetenet'tere zeyt

Yetenet'tere zeyt is an Ethiopian spiced oil. The recipe calls for olive oil, but I accidentally used vegetable oil the first time I made it. The olive oil definitely makes for a better end product, but any type seems to work. I used it to make my favourite lentil soup*, but it's great as a marinade base for meats, a dressing for mixed vegetables, or the beginnings of a salad dressing. Add some of your favourite spices if you want, such as red pepper flakes or a bit more garlic.

Ingredients:

2 teaspoons chopped garlic

2 teaspoons chopped onion

2 teaspoons dried basil

1 teaspoon chopped ginger root

2 cups water

2 cups olive oil

Hardware:

saucepan

mortar and pestle (or something else you can use for mashing)

metal spoon

stove

sieve or cheesecloth for straining

glass jar with tightly-closing lid

Directions:

Mash garlic and ginger into a paste. You can choose to leave it a bit thicker, but the flavour will not be as strong.

Heat water and oil in saucepan on medium heat. Stir in garlic, ginger, onion, and basil. Once the mixture comes to a boil, lower the heat to medium. Continue to boil, stirring occasionally, until all the water evaporates. (A tip from me: the oil will be sitting on top of the water. If you smell the oil beginning to cook, the water has evaporated. If you are paying close attention, a little bit of cooking the oil won't hurt it.)

Allow the oil to cool. Strain the oil with the sieve/cheesecloth into a glass jar. Close tightly, adding a piece of plastic wrap inside to seal more tightly, if necessary. Store in the refrigerator.

lentil soup

The UK version of soup tends to be a pureed mix of vegetables with the occasional chunked meat thrown in. As the weather is much colder here than I have ever continuously experienced back in the States, I have been wanting soups more often. Unfortunately, I just don't find the puree-of-veg to be desirable day after day. I tried this lentil soup for the first time a few weeks ago, and I can't wait to make it again. It was hearty and filling, did not involve pureeing, and was really quite easy to make. The hardest part was the Yetenet'tere zeyt (Ethiopian spiced oil), but I prepared it the previous night.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 cup lentils (I used green lentils)

4 tablespoons Yetenet'tere zeyt*

1/2 cup chopped onion

1/4 teaspoon mashed peeled ginger root

1/4 teaspoon mashed garlic

salt to taste

7 cups warm water

Hardware:

stove

fine sieve

mortar and pestle (or anything that will allow you to mash well)

wooden spoon (preference, not necessity)

saucepan

Directions:

Wash the lentils thoroughly and allow to drain in the sieve until needed. Be sure to look through the lentils carefully; occasionally small, similarly-shaped pebbles can sneak through the packaging processes. You definitely don't want to crunch down on one of those in your soup.

Heat the Yetenet'tere zeyt in the saucepan and add the onion. Saute on low heat, stirring constantly; you want the onion to become transparent, not brown. This make take up to 10 minutes.

Add the mashed garlic and ginger to the saucepan, and continue, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes. Turn the heat up to medium low and add the drained lentils to the pan. Stir continuously for 5 more minutes.

Pour the warm water into the pan and bring to a boil. Allow the mixture to boil for 20-25 minutes. Salt to taste.

The soup is great by itself as a main course, as a side, or served with pita.

pain perdu

Pain perdu is one of my favourite dishes because it reminds me of the French toast my mother used to make. It was a special treat that popped up on weekends, and, as I was never much of a breakfast fan, the combination of crunchy crust and soggy centers (not to mention maple syrup and powdered sugar) was enough to make me want a fully morning belly.

Ingredients:

1/2 stick butter

1 cup half and half

3 large eggs

2 tablespoons warmed honey

1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

8 slices of "real" bread (preferably a crusty loaf, like French or Italian), sliced at least 1/2 inch thick

Hardware:

bowl with cover (a plate will work fine)

oven/stove

draining rack

bread rack (or wire)

whisk

refrigerator

skillet

spatula

Day one directions:

Leave bread out overnight to dry. You can buy racks made specifically for this purpose, or you can make your own by twisting wire into a large spiral.

Whisk all ingredients, save bread and butter, together to form a custard. Cover loosely (a plate placed on top of the bowl works perfectly) and leave in refrigerator overnight.

Day two directions:

Pre-heat oven to 375°F/190°C. Place oven rack at middle or just above middle.

Drop bread slices into custard one at a time and allow each to soak for 30 seconds on each side. Allow each slice to rest for two minutes on a draining rack.

Heat skillet to medium low heat. Butter the skillet just enough to cover the bottom. Add each piece of bread to the skillet and brown on both sides. Extra butter may be used to coat pan in between slices.

Return bread to rack and place into the oven for five minutes.

Pain perdu can be enjoyed as is, or can be loaded up with syrups, fruits, sugar, whipped cream, etc.

by way of introductions

They say that the first step to dealing with any addiction is to admit you have a problem.

Hello.

My name is Sydney.

I like food.

A lot.

Growing up in the southern USA led to me having a rather unhealthy diet. Other issues factored in, such as family life, a culture of convenience, and dietary restrictions (learned by trial and error).

For example, my father spent three years working three hours away from where we lived. He would drive up on Friday night and leave again on Sunday afternoon -- both bookend meals were fast food as a matter of convenience/an effort to spend more time with each other than in the kitchen. This also meant that most other weekend meals were things quickly thrown together. My mother kept a in-home daycare during the week, so daytime meals would be kid-friendly: macaroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, etc. In the evenings, she tended toward rices and pastas.

As a perpetual student, I have, many times, found myself tempted by quick, easy, cheap meals. Living in a university town/city means that fast/diner foods are always just around the block. When that assignment is due tomorrow morning at 8am, it's hard not to justify getting that combo value meal; it means more time to devote to your work, after all!

Dietary restrictions have become a big part of my life. I was never a comfortable eater, yet I never quite knew why. Shrimp was off-limits starting at about age 8. I used to eat tons of popcorn shrimp when my parents went out for seafood, but I began experiencing an allergic reaction to it. Red meat and pork always made me feel ill, so I stopped eating all meats when I was 11 years old. Eventually, I added chicken and turkey back into my diet to ensure I was consuming enough protein. When I was about 17 years old, I finally found the common link to many of my issues. It's a problem that I find myself forced to explain quite often: I have an intolerance to lycopene. Typically, I just announce that I'm allergic to all red foods; though that statement is not exactly true, it gets the point across without (too much) confusion. Around age 22, I developed an allergy to fish. It is not a terrible allergy, but it makes consumption a real issue; if I desperately want to eat fish or there are no other options, I am able to take an allergy pill in advance and stave off most symptoms.

In 2009, I moved to Northern Ireland. I find my options even more limited here (it becomes taxing to always order chicken goujons and chips while out), as much of the Irish diet seems to be based on how many different animals can fit into one dish. Meat-filled pasties are popular, and meaty pizzas are beginning to dominate even pub menus.

Wishing to eat less fast food and have more variety in my diet, I started cooking in earnest at age 19. I quickly found that I had quite a knack for it. My personality type requires that I have some sort of instruction to follow: sheet music, driving directions, construction instruction booklets, and, yes, recipes. That's not to say that I'm restricted by this fact; I have no problems adding a spice here, excluding something there.

The purpose of this blog is to share recipes with you. I hope that you can have a bit of your own trial and error and learn that spending a little more time in the kitchen can be fun. Some of these recipes are my own. Others have been collected from various sources over the years. Some are even family recipes that have been passed down. I'm sure a great deal of them came from Alton Brown, as I adore Good Eats.

Many of these recipes can be made with substitutions. Vegetable stock/broth can typically be used in place of the chicken or beef varieties, and vegetarian bouillons are available in some markets. I'm a big fan of meat substitutions; vegetarian sausages, "chickeny" pieces, and "beefy" mince meats are often quite good and a hardly-noticeable swap in a lot of dishes. Because I eat poultry, I sometimes rely on turkey and chicken sausages and minces. Any dish which includes marshmallows is prepared with vegetarian marshmallows (look for halal or kosher if you're uncertain on labeling. These products will not contain pork by-products for religious reasons). Given the options available, not all of the recipes I offer will seem to fit into my diet; I hope you find a way to make them fit into yours as well. Have a little fun with it, and see what works for you.

And, hey, maybe liking food isn't such a terrible thing after all.

Note: for the purposes of this blog, dishes which contain eggs but no other animal products will be tagged as vegetarian.