Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Brownies are the perfect picnic food. I wanted chocolate, I wanted a brownie, but I wanted something a little different. I thought a cream cheese brownie would be great but didn’t have cream cheese. However, what I did have was some goat cheese. I thought, what the heck…I am going to experiment.

I used the brownie base for David Lebovitz’s (Ready for Dessert) cheesecake brownies, but swapped the cream cheese for goat cheese and added a touch more sugar (to compensate for the tartness in the goat cheese).

I also omitted the chocolate chips from the actual brownie base and instead took a skinny bar of Valrhona and did a rough chop. After swirling in the cheese mixture, I dotted the top of the brownies with the chocolate chunks.

Or the Uncondensed Title: Green Chile, Parmesan and Black Pepper Buttermilk Biscuits with Chorizo & Chipotle Gravy. Whew!

While I can overeat with the best of them, a Hearty Breakfast Boy I am not. It slows me down and makes me feel sluggish which is why I usually stick to a banana and some peanut butter. Sometimes oatmeal, occasionally an omelette.

These rules change if we’re talking brunch, though. My little peckish early morning hunger turns into a full-fledged giant appetite after I’ve been up for a few hours. Or automatically after 10am.

This recipe is something Adam came up with last Sunday, the first lazy day we’ve had together in quite some time. He just returned from 17 days in Wisconsin, working on a project while freezing his ass off. He had an idea for changing up his biscuits and gravy to which I replied “Oh gosh, I’m not sure about that. I think you’ll have to make it so I can try it.”  Of course I was sure about it, you can’t really mess up biscuits and gravy, can you?

Every time I step into a meat market, I think of my mom. I can’t count the times I impatiently waited as she stood in front of the clear glass that separated her from rows of raw meat. As the butcher stood on the other side of the meat case waiting for her order, she examined the ground beef and the red, marbled roasts.

She carefully inspected the pork chops and the loins. The beef she would eventually purchase must have just the right amount of marbling running through. The pork must have enough fat to give it flavor and keep it moist as it cooked.

Somehow, my antsy behavior in all of those meat markets I frequented with my mother has made a complete turn-around over the years. I’ve become my mother. Meat markets and chocolate shops (she couldn’t pass up a Fanny Farmer store) are high on my list of places I love to visit.

Last week I had the opportunity to stop into Steve’s Meat Market in Ellendale, Minn. Owner, Donnavon Eaker, was busy helping a customer as I stepped into the smokehouse-scented store.

“Having steaks on the grill tonight?” the petite Eaker asked her customer as she added up the cost of the meat purchase. The happy customer shared her plans for that day’s meat purchase and walked out with a hefty bag of meat.

I have a serious problem with this dish. I am embarrassed to say that I ate 25% of it before dinner was served last night. I am scared to put on my jeans. Instead of walking my usual 2.5 miles today, I am going to have to double that! What was I thinking?

The real problem here is that these are so utterly good, that one cannot just take a small portion. With that said,, eating 25% of the pan, isn’t all that unreasonable. Is it? In the past, I have always made Patricia Well’s recipe, Gratin Dauphinois from her book At Home in Provence. I adore her books and have made many of her recipes, but her particular dish requires one to cook the potatoes in the cream and milk mixture, on the stove, before layering the pan, etc. An unnecessary step. Dorie Greespan’s recipe from Around My French Table beats out any other potato dish of this kind and this is my new “go-to” dish for those nights when I just don’t have time to mess in the kitchen.

Potatoes au Gratin or “scalloped potatoes” as my dad endearingly referred to them as, was one of my dad’s favorite dishes. He loved his food. And he loved his restaurants. He was a carbs kind of guy. Happily I admit, I am as well.