Another stupidly easy recipe is Shrimp Scampi. If you ask the waiter for this, you’re wasting your money and the chef’s time.

The first thing you’re gonna need is a 12″ stainless skillet. Do not use a Teflon or a non-stick pan, as you WANT some stickiness.

Invest in a good-quality stainless skillet. You don’t need this, but this will work just fine.

Grab this stuff:

• 3 tbsp of olive oil
• 2 tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 tbsp salt
• 1 tbsp black pepper
• 1 diced shallot
• 5 smashed garlic cloves
• 1 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1 lb fresh shrimp, (not the pre-cooked pink ones, get the white, uncooked buggers)
• 1/2 of a fresh lemon
• 1/2 cup white wine
• 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
• linguine pasta for four

How to dice your shallot? Watch this:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=FfzU10UG26s

Put the oven on 300. Don’t ask why, just do it.

Start boiling salted water for the linguine.

Peel and de-vein the shrimp. Place them in a ziplock bag. Add salt and pepper to the bag, shake to coat the shrimp, set the bag aside.

(Most recipes will have you toss the shrimp in a bowl , but I only have two stainless mixing bowls, and I’d rather throw away a Ziplock bag than clean my bowls over and over. You wanna use a mixing bowl, go right ahead.)

Heat your pan to medium-low — on my oven, medium-low is “3″ on the dial-scale of 2-4-6-8-Hi — and add olive oil until the bottom of the pan is barely filled, approximately 2 tbsp. Remember that the boiling point of olive oil is 572 degrees Fahrenheit, so don’t put your burner on Nuclear, ‘k Mario? If your oil is boiling, it’s WAY too hot.

Add the pasta to rapidly boiling, salted water. The typical cook time is 8 minutes, so we want to get our shrimp cooked in that time.

Add 1 tbsp of unsalted butter to the heated olive oil and allow to it to melt.

Add the garlic, shallot, and red pepper flakes. Cook for 1 minute, inhaling the entire time. Smell that stuff, let it entrance you.

Add the shrimp, spreading them out so the entire side of every shrimp is being cooked. Stacked shrimp is the devil.

When the shrimp tails turn pink — approximately 2-3 minutes — turn the shrimp one at a time so the other sides are cooked. You don’t want raw seafood but you don’t want rubber, either.

Cook the shrimp another 2-3 minutes, then remove them from the pan individually onto another plate. Lift them out with tongs; don’t pour them out and end up losing the liquid in the pan.

Add the wine and use a wooden spatula to scrape the bottom of the pan. Scrape up the brown bits and stir it all together. This is called deglazing the pan, and is what makes the brown (not black!) bits taste so freakin’ great.

(Black bits are burnt and attempting to deglaze them will give you crap in a pan.)

Add the juice from the 1/2 of a fresh lemon, allow the sauce to come to a boil.

Add 1 tbsp of olive oil and 1 tbsp of unsalted butter.

When the butter has melted, add the shrimp back into the sauce.

The pasta should be done at this time. Drain it and add to the shrimp in the skillet.

Put your plates in the oven!! They won’t need to stay in there more than 60 seconds.

Stir the linguine into the sauce with the shrimp.

Add the fresh chopped parsley, stir it all together, and serve immediately on your warmed plates.

WARMED PLATES, DANG IT!. There’s nothing worse then spending time and energy to make a hot dinner and serving it on cold plates. Seriously.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Don’t Pay Restaurant Prices

So should we jump right into the steak recipe, or should we talk about shallots first?

(TELEPHONE RINGS!)

/sigh

“Yel-lo?”

“Is this Mr. Kitty?”

“You called me; mind introducing yourself, please? Phone-etiquette isn’t dead, ya know?”

“My apologies. This is Howard Schultz, CEO of Starbucks. Do I have the honor and pleasure of speaking with Mr. Kitty?”

“You can call me Daniel, but you’re on the right trajectory.”

“Excellent. I understand you’ve been promoting our newest coffee, Dark Cherry Mocha?”

“With a passion that burns with the heat of 1000 suns, yes sir!”

“That’s very kind of you. It’s word-of-mouth advertising like yours that makes this billionaire’s heart warm and my pockets tingle with the opportunity of a joint business venture.”

“NO WAI!”

“Wai.”

“You’re serious?”

“Serious.”

“What’s your plan, cochise?”

“How about I give you a coupon that you can put on your blog that will allow your readers to get a free Dark Cherry Mocha from their local Starbucks restaurant?”

“NO WAI!!”

“Wai.”

“Send me the graphic and I’ll slap it up there, PDQ!”

“Well Mr. Kitty, check your in-box.”

“SWEET!” Now you’re sure this is 100%, totally, no-foolin’, no-kiddin’, too legit to quit?”

“Totally. Legit.^*“

“We’re posting right now!”

“Again, Mr. Kitty, thank you for your continued patronage and writings.”

(click)

Well shut my mouth and call me cornbread.

^{* 100% totally NOT legit.}

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Gonna Unpublish This Number

No steak; chicken. Hopefully, that will keep Interrupting Ghostcrawler at bay.
Chicken thighs! Why? Because dark meat is more flavorful than white. I have even convinced my formerly “chicken-breast ONLY” recipe-tester to admit that dark meat is awesome with this recipe.

Ingredients:

• 4 chicken thighs
• 1/2 cup Marsala wine (use the same stuff you bought when you made my Chicken Marsala recipe)
• 1/3 cup heavy cream
• 1 cup sliced mushrooms
• 2 minced garlic cloves
• 1oz crumbled Gorgonzola cheese
• 1tbsp fresh chopped parsley
• olive oil
• salt and pepper
• bow-tie pasta, fo’shizzle, for ‘Lo! Bow-tie is the Best Pasta Evah.

Boil your salted pasta water.

Heat 2tbsp of olive oil in a large, stainless pan (do NOT use non-stick) on medium heat.

Start cooking your bow-tie pasta, set the timer for twelve minutes, and remember to come back and stir your pasta frequently.

Take the skin off the thighs and de-bone them. You don’t need to pound these flat as the de-boning process has done that already. Salt and pepper both sides, put them in the oil, cook both sides for three  minutes per side. Don’t burn ‘em; if you are unsure, use your tongs and check the cooking-side of the meat to make sure they brown and not blacken. Once the thighs are cooked, removed them from the pan, put em on a plate, and cover with a piece of aluminum foil.

Stir your pasta. See? You forgot.

Add the mushrooms and use a wooden spatula to dislodge all the browned-bits stuck to the pan. Cook the mushrooms for two minutes, giving them lots of space. Don’t stack yer shrooms.

Add the garlic, cook for 30 seconds.

Reduce the heat to medium-low.

Add the Marsala wine, let it reduce until half the liquid is gone.

Smell your house. Seriously. People should be coming out and asking what’s for dinner.

Stir your pasta, doofus!

Add the heavy cream, stir with that wooden spatula and keep scraping the bottom of the pan.

Add 3/4 oz of the Gorgonzola cheese and let it melt into the sauce. Stir and scrape.

When the cheese is totally melted, get a fresh spoon from your utensil drawer and taste the sauce. Don’t faint from the awesomeness, but add salt and pepper to taste. Remember that you can always add salt and pepper but you can’t take it out; go easy with the shakers, Chester.

Take the cooked chicken thighs and gently insert them into the sauce. Don’t drop ‘em; be gentle. Let them sit for a minute, then turn them.

Hopefully the pasta is done now. Drain and distribute on pretty plates. I like my blue, square plates!

Take a piece of chicken, turn it so it’s “pretty-side” is face up and place it on the pasta. Get a big spoon (no slots in that spoon!) and pour sauce on the chicken and the pasta. Sprinkle some Gorgonzola hither and yon, then dash with the fresh parsley.

Serve!! Bask in the glow of being a Chef.

Fresh parsley, yes. It’s $2 a bunch. Get some. Remove the leaves from the stems, about half a palm-full. I prefer my curved-blade chef’s knife. Watch your fingers! Hold the knife properly! Oh just watch.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Gorgonzola is Your Friend

/looks around nervously

You need a pan.

/checks the phone, confirms it’s off

Cast iron.

/takes the battery out of the phone

With ridges to get those nice grill marks.

/puts the de-batteried phone under the bed

/blinks

And you want shallots red wine beef broth salt and pepper!

/examines the silence, warily

So what we want…

(DOORBELL RINGS!!)

/sighs

Hold on, please.

/opens door, says hello to the UPS man, signs that weird, brown computer upside-down, brings a small box inside, opens the box, finds another small box, opens that…

A cell phone?

(TELEPHONE RINGS!!)

NO NO NO NO!

(TELEPHONE RINGS!!)

I give up.

“Yel-lo?”

“BRK BABYCAKES!! I sent you your own Authentic Blizzard T-Mobile Communication and Tracking Gear! It’s sweet, and I can put you on the company plan for peanuts, and then I can call you using the OnStar in my Denali, anytime I WANT!”

“That’s… that’s something.”

“You’re not just whistling Dixie, chucklebuns! So what do you SAY?!”

“Say? Say to what?”

“To my offer of playing in the Friends and Family Alpha for Cataclysm, you loud-mouthed schnook! Quit making me beg; I’ll TOTALLY do it!”

“You never really offered. You just keep calling and yelling and…”

“BUY IT, MARJORIE! BRANDI SAID SHE WANTED A SHARPIE!”

“A sharpie?”

“Brandi wants to color something, I guess. I’m having my Personal Executive Administrative Assistant buy one. Why we need to get dog food I have NO idea. But it’s just money, Pablo! I keep a box of it in the yard like Tony Soprano!”

“Maybe Brandi wants a sharpei?”

“She can have as many crayons as she wants, but that’s not important NOW!”

“What is important now?”

“You and my Alpha, BRK! Get in, sit down, shut up, and hang on!”

“Well just how alpha is this alpha?”

“It’s wicked-alpha, that’s what I’m saying. We’re not even using the word Cataclysm yet; we just abbreviate it with a K!”

“But Cataclysm begins…”

“‘WHERE IS MY K?!’ I yell at those dweebs, and they scurry about, slapping keyboards and making silly voices into microphones. It’s heady, I tell ya! Just like Emperor Palpitations!”

“I’m completely lost…”

“You wanna see Cataclysm before everyone else, make recommendations, point fingers, gesticulate wildly…”

“Nice word, gesticulate.”

“Thanks! Got a Word of the Day calendar from Brandi for Christmas; that was January 1st!”

“Well you nailed it.”

“BRK, ya make me feel so special! This is EXACTLY why we need you!”

“What’s the gig pay?”

“Pay? Pay you? You’re REALLY thinking outside the box on that one! I named a gun after you; that’s the end of the line, Princess!”

“OK, so you want me to come out of retirement, try the Cataclysm alpha, make recommendations, restart the old blog, and what else?”

“Whatever you want! The world is your oyster! The sky’s the limit!”

“How about I not reach for the sky and just blog a little, do a few movies and screenshots. I don’t want to do forums and radio shows and raid 25-mans and turn this into a second job again.”

“You’re the boss, sassafras! I mean, I just FEEL the creative juices from here!”

“That’s disturbing.”

“Art ain’t pretty! Warhol said that, I’m certain!”

“So what happens now?”

“MARJORIE! DO WE HAVE THE MARKERS?! YES? THEY WET THE CARPET!? HOW DO MARKERS DO THAT?! KEEP THE CAPS ON ‘EM, DANG IT! NOW EMAIL BRK THE ALPHA CODES, RIGHT PRONTO, OR YOU’RE OUT ON YOUR PENCIL-SKIRTED KEISTER!”

“You’re certain that’s so wise; saying those things to her?”

“Mom takes a great deal of abuse, you’re right, but she always puts baby carrots in my lunch box even after I TOLD her I like celery. She’s lucky I give her a job at all!”

“Well the email arrived. I’ll start downloading.”

“You’re on the ball! Let me know what you think! I gotta run and get those markers to Brandi before they ruin my alpaca carpets!”

“You do…”

(click)

“…that.”

So one more day, and I’ll do the steak thing. I swear.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

The Phone Is Off

Cast iron, my friends. Not aluminum, not stainless steel, not non-stick DuPont fluoropolymer resins. Cast honkin’ iron is where…

(telephone rings!!)

…our salvation lies when it comes to cooking steak. What you want to be considered knowledgeable and hip is a cast iron…

(telephone rings!!)

…grilling pan. What makes cast iron so awesome? Specifically, it’s the…

(telephone rings!!)

…ability of the metal to…

(telephone rings!!)

OMG answer the phone, someone!

/sigh

(telephone rings!!)

Yeah. I’ll get it.

“Yel-lo?”

“BRK BABY!”

“Greg?”

“You nailed it, sweetheart! First try; so you get a prize!”

“What do you want, Greg.”

“A solid gold yo-yo and a piazza. But I’ll settle for knowing what your summer plans are! I have some stuff about which we must speak all legal-like!”

“My summer plans?”

“Yes! I’ve got a couple of SeaDoos and a 2010 Ford F-150 SVT Raptor that’s demanding some TLC from you and me!”

“Seriously?”

“Pfft. Heck no. Like I’m gonna give up a SeaDoo when Brandi named her’s ‘Bouncy Mo’Mouncy’? You’re outta your lemon tree, you are.”

“Greg…”

“Listen, whatcha DOIN‘ this summer? Family stuff?”

“OK, since you asked, I’ll tell you: My son is going to visit his mother for the summer.”

“For the whole summer? Like gone? Out of state?”

“Precisely.”

“So whatcha gonna DO, cochise? Prospect for gold in the Peruvian mountains? Photograph bikini models in Bimini? Write a movie for Johnny Depp that doesn’t suck?”

“Work. Write. Cook. Blog, and maybe…”

“Be a boring childless single parent while keeping an incredibly clean house and going to the movies alone, I HEAR you, and it sounds dreadful and utterly pathetic and lonely.”

“I won’t be alone.”

“…”

“…”

“YOU DOG!! I’m proud of you, you old rat b@stard! Tell me…”

“Line. Sand. Drawn. Enough.”

“Whoa whoa WHOA, babycakes, it’s all good. Understood, limits are limits and I won’t press.”

“Thank you.”

“Does she have a sister?”

“BE QUIET!”

“You’re right; Brandi would totally NOT go for anything like that.”

“Sheesh.”

“So anywho, here’s my idea! You’re gonna be pathetic and bored and lonely…”

“Um, not…”

“… and I’ve got this little project that I need some help with! How much karma does it take to fill a room? I don’t know, but we’re almost THERE!”

“What’s the project?”

“PUT MORE HORSERADISH ON IT! HORSE. EEE. SAUCE! I SAID EXTRA!”

“Horsie sauce?”

“Arby’s chuckleheads can’t get an order right if you burned the list into their cerebellum with a laser. CURLY FRIES AND A DR. PEPPER, YOU ANIMALS!”

“I like curly fries…”

“So my project needs someone of refinement, quality, breeding, artistic flare, and a disposition as sunny as the surface of Mars…”

“Why does this sound like it’s starting badly?”

“So I called Pike, but she didn’t answer.”

“Bazinga?”

“So you’re UP, buttercup! Whatcha say to THAT!”

“Say?”

“To THAT, yes!”

“Well I think…”

“I WANT A PAPER-WRAPPED STRAW OR I’M GONNA COME IN THERE AND BASH SKULLS!! You were saying?”

“I think I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dude!”

“Dude?”

“DUDE! Let me send you an email and tell me what you think!”

“Well O…”

(click)

K.

…

Yeah, so no cooking again today. These interruptions need to stop.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Seriously. Meat.

Yes, a steak.

Steak. As in, beef.

See? Making a steak is about more than fire, and while the traditional formula of Fire + Man = Happiness is still true today as it was 10,000 years ago…

(TELEPHONE RING!!)

… it takes more than just fire to make steak taste good.

(TELEPHONE RING!!)

Now there are many ways to make marinades and seasonings, but we’re going to start with what truly makes a steak the favorite meal to cook to show you’re not…

(TELEPHONE RING!!)

… completely incompetent in the kitchen OMG would SOMEONE answer the phone?!

(TELEPHONE RING!!)

FINE. Fine, I’ll get it.

/picks up receiver

“Yel-lo?”

“DUDE!”

“Dude?”

“DUDE!”

“Dude?”

“What’s up, BRK!”

“Um… I’m not BRK anymore…”

“Well get that stinky dwarf on the phone! Time’s money!”

“Money?”

“Money, happiness, cool sports shirts, and what do you call it, raspberry latte?”

“Well actually, I’ve acquired a predilection for dark cherry mocha…”

“Doesn’t matter! We need you!”

“Me? What for? And who is this?”

“It’s Greg, baby!”

“Greg baby?”

“Ghostcrawler! I’m doing 110 on the PCH in my Audi RS8 and it hit me!”

“It hit you? Are you OK?”

“One word: stock options and dividends make crabs happy campers. But that’s not important!”

“Ghostcrawler from Blizzard?”

“Now you’re thinking with your NOODLE!”

“Greg, I’ve been retired for a year. I don’t play WoW anymore.”

“Well that’s good! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear! You’re right in my sweet zone, and this Audi loves the sweet zone, and so does Brandi!”

“Brandi?”

“She packed lunch! It’s in the trunk. I hope she left out the pimento loaf. Pretty girl but bizarre tastes in sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches?”

“You’re off-track again! Why are you thinking about food when we’re talking about WoW?”

“I’m not talking about WoW; you are. Kinda.”

“Yes I am and no I’m not! That’s what’s so cool! We need you, BRK!”

“Daniel. BRK is happily retired.”

“Retired my pampered, leather-swaddled behind! You heard I have something on the burners right now, yes?”

“Burners? Are we talking about food again?”

“No! The sandwiches are cold. I’m talking about WoW-burners, baby!”

“We are? I can’t tell anymore…”

“Alpha, my Friend! And I capitalized ‘Friend’ if you get my four-wheel drive drift!”

“Alpha?”

“MOVE THAT SEMI OR I’LL TOTALLY SLIDE UNDER THE TRAILER LIKE I WAS TOM SELLECK! DO YOU NEED THAT ON YOUR FACEBOOK PAGE? GOT SLID UNDER BY A GEEK IN AN AUDI?!”

“What semi?”

“These doofuses don’t understand Proper Vehicle Hierarchy at ALL! Audi RS8 before Sam’s Club trucks! It’s basic road LAW, for Elune’s sake!”

“Maybe you’d better drive, Greg.”

“I AM driving, sweet potato! Like f-ing Michael Schumacher! I hope the sandwiches are wrapped in wax paper; the mustard will get all OVER my interior, otherwise.”

“Greg, pull over, go home, do something other than yell at me while you’re on the Pacific Coast Highway.”

“Can do, kemosabe! Back atcha after I park this beast! NO BRANDI I DIDN’T CALL YOU A BEAST! Oh come on, put the Mello Yellow down! NO NOT ON THE SEATS!! NOOOOO!”

(click)

…

Well that wasn’t what I was expecting, not at all. OK, I’ll try this recipe again tomorrow; things are a little too crazy right now.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Where The Steel Meets the Fire

I like mine over pasta, but you can cook rice or even little roast potatoes with this. Little roast potatoes… mmmm.

4 chicken breasts

1/2 cup marsala wine

1 cup sliced mushrooms

2 tbsp chopped shallots (you’ll find them in the onion section in a little baggie)

8 tbsp unsalted butter

1 cup chicken stock

2 tbsp fresh chopped parsley

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Trim the fat from the chicken breasts, pound em to an even thickness, rub salt and pepper on them, dredge them in flour, shake off the excess, put them aside.

Heat the extra virgin olive oil on medium in a large non-non-stick skillet until the oil’s surface shimmers. Add 2tbsp of butter, let it melt, put the chicken in for 3 minutes, keep checking that cooked side so it doesn’t burn. Turn, cook for 2 more minutes. Remove the chicken, put on a paper towel-covered plate.

Add 2tbsp of butter, melt, add the shallots, let them cook for 2 minutes. Scatter the mushrooms, keep them spread out, cook for 3 minutes. Salt and pepper to taste, (taste it!)

Add the marasala wine, raise the temp to med-high, let it boil for 3 minutes or the sauce seems a slightly syrupy.

Add the chicken stock and remaining butter, bring to a boil for 3 minutes or the sauce is reduced by half.

Add the chicken back to the sauce for 2 minutes, flip them, cook for 2 more minutes.

Add the fresh parsley, serve over warm pasta.

You can substitute veal, turkey, or pork in this recipe, too!

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

Trade Ya

I lost a very, very good friend. Not as in lost-lost, or “I left her at Macy’s by accident” lost, but just lost. I hope she’s going to be OK, I miss her a ton.

If you are up north and are experiencing single-digit temperatures, I feel for you. But for us cold-blooded creatures in the south, temps in the 30s are worse because we have no reason to be used to it. Don’t mock me for my four layers of clothing or double-electric blankets, (only one of which is plugged it,) or wearing my lined leather jacket at the office. Yes it’s colder where you are, yes you have snow, yes you live in Chicago for some unknown reason, but you just don’t understand what we Floridians feel like right now. You just don’t.

I have the coolest iPhone case ever. The tall blonde at the restaurant yesterday confirmed it. Yes it’s a red crocodile-leather case. I like both the color and the texture. It’s wicked-cool, and hot college-aged women agree with me.

My one year of being “single” is approaching and while the loneliness is difficult, at least the pain of being alone with someone in the house is gone.

I have invited a friend down to visit for a weekend. I hope she can make it.

The more time I spend at Starbucks, the easier it is to laugh at people who need 42 adjectives to order their coffee. “Tall mocha” or “tall raspberry latte”, foshizzle.

The 100lb Puppy of Love has a fatty deposit in his left armpit that requires removal. It is not dangerous, but it will interfere with his walking. I can take my son to the doctor for shots and be brave for him, but when a vet touches my dog, I cry and sniffle. I’m getting teary just thinking about him having surgery.

My mean cat, Bisky Boodle, does not understand why I’m not taking pictures of her anymore. She’d me mad if I was, but is also mad that I’m not. Frankly, there’s just no winning with her and I quit trying years ago. If I am lying on the couch, she will hop up, but her face next to mine and say, “I am going to lie next to you, see? Don’t touch me. Don’t coo at me. Don’t call me cute names. Don’t move. I am here because I am sure it is an inconvenience for you, that’s all.”

I have no desire to make stuffed mushrooms anymore. My lemon chicken with carrots, celery, and bamboo shoots was an unmitigated disaster. I think my cooking is suffering because of my lost friend.

All the Christmas decorations are put away. It is both sad and cleansing, I think.

No, I am not going to join eHarmony or Match or anything else.

I totally scored at fixing my attorney’s computer over the holidays. I used to get a text or call every other day about a crash or lockup, but nothing at all this year. Extra RAM and a stay-awake program solved his problems.

The fungus in the 100lb Puppy of Love’s ears has been eradicated. We got through the weekend of peeing every three hours due to the medication, daily cleaning, and twice-daily ear drops. Does anything feel better than taking care of someone that looks into your eyes with total trust and love?

One of my friends who is right about everything, all the time, is gonna be wrong this time, I just know it.

Cub Scouts meeting this week means I get to hang out with parents. There is a mom there, married, who is very pretty and kind. It’s fun just to be around her because she and I are able to talk. We made pipe-cleaner candy canes together before Christmas while our kids brought us supplies. It was the fastest hour-long scout-meeting ever.

I need a new/used vehicle with a back seat, I know this. But my race car is almost paid off and the thought of no car payment is intoxicating. I hate purchasing used cars as the thought of car-repairs sickens me, but any new car is so expensive and such a depreciating investment. A used Porsche 911 has a back seat, but nobody will agree with me that this car would be a wise parenting choice.

Today I drove at a sedate 5mph through the 9″ cones they place in my son’s school parking lot. My car and I could totally smoke that course at 30mph easily, if they’d just move those Safety Patrol 5th graders out of the way.

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Post from: Brain Needed Space

2010 Who the {Bleep} Knows