It’s true that I’m no good at brevity, but the fact of the matter is, I do like variety. And I guess variety also means trying to do things that you’re not good at. So, I’m gonna try to be brief, starting with the title of this post and this dish.
All I ask is that you pronounce it “Mediterraneaaahn” to sound super cosmopolitan. Roll the rs for extra sophistication.
Now, I’ve never raised a baby (and I’m not going to start any time soon, no matter what Child Protective Service says, dammit!) but growing vegetables from seed is a crude but cromulent enough comparison.
So, as I’ve mentioned ad nauseum on this blog (and in life), I like variety in all things. With food, this manifests as a desire for different flavors, different textures, and different colors. However, I also always have leftovers because I never want to not have enough if unexpected guests show up. Combine the love of variety and the abundance of leftovers and you get me attempting (and often failing) at reinventing those leftovers into something just as delicious as the meal from whence they came.
Changing the garlic mashed potatoes (leftover from our Surf and Turf meal) into potato croquettes was something more than a failure, but less than a complete success. I’ll certainly be trying again.
I’m no good at brevity.
I don’t like concise recipe names at the expense of information. I always feel like restaurant menus are hiding something from me when the name itself isn’t descriptive and there isn’t additional information. Even when it’s not something like “Tuna Surprise” or “House Chicken”conjuring up images of congealed grease sitting under a hot lamp, I’d still prefer it if the name tells me enough about the ingredients and/or cooking techniques used, so that I can try to recreate the meal myself. Of course, this isn’t a problem with certain phrases from different schools of cooking, where you can say something like parmigiana and whether it’s the original eggplant, veal, chicken, or even tofu, you know that the protein is breaded and fried, then baked with marinara and mozzarella. Or à la mode and everyone knows you mean “with ice cream.”
NOTE: À la mode actually means “in the style” and I guess the style in the U.S. diner cooking school is “with ice cream.”
ANOTHER NOTE: I love appropriating languages, especially when ice cream is involved.
And, more importantly, I tried to think of a clever name for this dish and the best I came up with was Spicy Raspberry Surprise which sounds… wrong.
Our thirst was quenched by red wine and accompanied by a feast that went from under the turf to swimming in the surf:
This was my version of comfort food. I love a good steak and the shrimp is a dish that my father made often while I was growing up. The green beans and the mashed potatoes were made by Elliotte who did justice to her mom’s recipes. She also made the brownie and chocolate chip cookie dough dessert, but that’s another post. It was definitely a comforting, stick-to-your-ribs, food-coma-inducing meal.
