Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Sure, drinking a cold beer is one's of life's simple pleasures. But why not be happier by eating beer too? Meats like beef and venison taste better when cooked with beer, which is why beer spiked chilis and stews and beer-infused pot pies taste so great.

Beer lends a full-bodied, earthy flavor to braised vegetables too. Collards or kale braised in beer? Oh, yeah. And don't forget thick, gooey beer and cheese soup. And then there's baking with beer, but let's save that for another post.

Today I'm sharing one of the tastiest, simplest recipes from my cookbook, Recipes Every Man Should Know, co-authored with Brett Cohen. Beer bread is for the man who loves beer and bread but hates to bake. There's no kneading or fancy bread machine required. Just some muscle for stirring.

A couple years back i reported about a prize-winning, record-setting burger that weighed in at over 210 pounds. Well, apparently that record has been obliterated, shattered, knuckle-dropped, air-popped, heel-stomped and other synonyms for royally busted. A burger in Minnesota weighed in at just north of one ton. (It’s 2014 pounds.) Not just your basic lazy cook’s plain burger, this one featured 60 pounds of bacon, 40 pounds each of pickles and cheese and 50 pounds of lettuce.

I, or one, would never make such a burger. First of all, they needed a crane to flip it, and my kitchen will not accommodate a vehicle larger than a bicycle. Also, I would be much to irritable to fry all that bacon. And as much as I would love to eat this monster, I’m not sure there is enough Pepto-Bismol in the world to calm the post-prandial abdominal pushback. I will therefore stick to cooking that burger’s diminutive cousin, the slider.

This little guy weighs in at only a few ounces, but I’m guessing that, flavor-wise, it is David to the Ton One’s Goliath. Only a couple of inches in diameter (vs. gonzo-burger’s ten feet), it packs a killer punch with it’s dab of chipotle mayonnaise.

Levi woke up a few mornings ago and the first thing he said to me was, “I really want you to make chocolate chip cookies”. I asked him what kind, what did he want in them, did he want them cakey or chewy? He looked at me as if I was speaking a foreign language. And then he looked at me and said, “just a plain and simple chocolate chip cookie – and mom, fill up the cookie jar with them!”.

I think he is tired of the hoopla surrounding my baking endeavors. He wants the basic. And after thinking about it for a bit, I understand how we all crave just the basics from time to time. I enjoy(and miss) a lazy Sunday morning, under the covers with a good book, I am happy on the couch, sharing an episode of Friday Night Lights with Eli (our obsession), a walk with the family to the neigborhood bagel shop, or simply building a puzzle with Levi, a.k.a “the puzzle king”.

Years ago I lived on Aquidneck Island (home to Newport, Rhode Island) and every June we’d head over to Quonset View Farms, high up in the middle of the island where the cold fog off the ocean just kisses the plants and fades away in time for daily sun baths. The soil must be pretty special there, too, as I swear I’ve never tasted strawberries so sweet and juicy. At Quonset View, it was hard to get out of the field without eating most of your berries.

Ever since then, I haven’t really been able to eat much in the way of commercial strawberries, which tend to be hard and white in the middle and short on flavor. I wait 11 months for the real deal. It’s kind of torturous, but pretty blissful when the local berries ripen. I try to pick enough to freeze some for later months, too, but they never last very long.

My longing was made even worse this year by the fact that Rebecca has been selling strawberry plants at the farm stand where my garden is. Every day that I pass by these beauties, another berry ripens on one of the plants, red and juicy and drooping seductively on its green stem, just begging to be eaten.