Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Wowzer. That's all I can say. Dad is going to love this one! But then again, why wait until Father's Day, have it tonight.

Food Network Magazine had a section on burgers this past month and there were a few I had to try...this was one of them.

The sauce was made with beer, sharp cheddar and horseradish. It is a nice addition to a meaty burger, and the cheese sauce adds some nice complexity.

It has your name on it, you must try it. You could easily make them into sliders as well.

My friend Jo (Mylastbite) came over for lunch last week. Jo is the ULTIMATE foodie and has eaten in every restaurant across the globe. In addition, she rubs elbows with 90% of the top Los Angeles chefs and confidently calls them her friends!

I wasn’t going to serve Jo a “sissy” salad. Jo likes to eat and I wanted something that was going to stick to her ribs. I have been coveting a recipe for Bacon Tomato Hash.

After reading the ingredients (the best kind, 6 ingredients), I was reminded of one of my favorite sandwiches; a BLT with Avocado!

The end result was perfection. The “BLT bruschetta” was a huge hit. Not only with Jo, but with my boys.

This recipe, with or without the avocado, is a keeper!

I like Worcestershire Sauce.  I admit it.  One of the things I like about it is its name – how it was that extra thing in it – wor-cest-er-(shur)-ire sauce. I like the bottle, how it comes wrapped almost like a present.  It’s almost a guilty pleasure, a secret ingredient that you don’t necessarily want to reveal, like sugar in spaghetti sauce, or sour cream in anything, or ketchup on a steak which I don’t feel guilty about, at all. 

I don’t pour Worcestershire Sauce on top of steaks and grill them, the way my Dad used to in the backyard.  But sometimes I just have to make my mother’s cottage cheese dip.  It’s really great.  And it’s really soothing.  And I fool myself into thinking that it might even be good for you, well, sort of.  But take my advice, if anyone asks you what’s in it, you might consider saying, “You don’t want to know.”

Pizza is local. A guy from Cincinnati traveling in Italy will thumb his nose at the pizza because it’s not what he used to eat in Ohio when he was going through puberty. Italians are no different. I know Romans who make rude gestures when they talk about the pizza from Naples.

“The crust is too thick — and then it falls apart in the middle. It is without structure.”

I’ve eaten a lot of pizza in Naples; I’ve downed an obscene number of pies at Baffetto in Rome; I’ve had Sicilian pizza in Sicily, Pugliese pizza in Puglia and Ligurian pizza in Liguria (excellent, by the way) and pizza, at its best, is totally local, which means to say it reflects the personality and the groceries of its neighborhood.

Obviously I’m not referring here to pizza chains, which produce cookie-cutter pies of no interest. Nor am I referring to take-out pizza, which is an abomination. Take-out pizza absorbs the taste and smell of the cardboard it travels in. By the time it arrives you may as well just eat the box. No, I’m talking about real pizza.