Monday Evening with Saturday Afternoon.

It's cocktail hour!  Some of these photo's are shitty as i had to take them on my phone due to Nanc's adept camera hiding abilities. So the inspiration for this is banana liquor because we had like an almost full bottle sitting around because mom bought it for some dessert, and i've been "on the hunt" for a use of it ever since. Recently i stumbles across this site that just has a lot of random cocktails/recipes, but for some reason you can't actually search for them? Which is weird/stupid, but luckily i had the foresight to email it to myself. Good think'n Laur. Anywho you need:

1oz banana liquor

2oz Coconut Rum (it specifies Malibu, but what am i, a college freshman? We don't have any fucking Malibu just sitting around the house. We do, however, have coconut Bacardi because Phil's a Class act, capital c.

1oz Gold Rum

Splash of Grenadine

3oz Orange Juice

4-6oz Gingerale

An Orange slice

So this recipe is already going to be a little ghetto because i'm to lazy to go to the store. Also it makes 1 drink in a hurricane glass, but 4 shots? I dont' think so. Phil and i didn't want to get plastered, just celebrate the beginning of my weekend (everyday is a weekend for him). We had minute maid concentrate OJ, so that's covered, and of course coconut rum (random) and Banana liquor (also random). We do have grenadine, which i don't know why, but even more randomly it's pomegranate grenadine, which why anyone would need is beyond me, but, well there you go. Also the only two other rums we had were Meyer's Dark and this Dominican Republic rum that Eileen brought back for us that looks gold to me, so win!

Nice netting! We always have ginger ale in the Pappas house. I'm more of a Canada Dry kinda girl, but Nance loves the Schwepps, and really she's the queen of the castle. I'm a brat about mini-bottles though, so we've come to a compromise. And there was again piece in the kingdom. Anyway this says to stir, then add ginger-ale, but anyone who's anyone knows it's better to shake it, duh.

I have this really nice Boston shaker my ex got me after i graduated bar-tending school, which i could not find anywhere, and immediately put Phil on the hunt for. Then he's like, "I don't know kid, but i should have a martini shaker somewhere..." Which we also couldn't find because apparently Nanc decided to Bogard the shakers, i guess hiding cameras lost some of it's allure (i joke, Nanc, i joke). Anyway dad eventually found them in the living room (why, where do you keep your cocktail shakers?) one inside the other. So of course i gave him the honor of shaking, you're welcome.

So serious. Then i was like, "Hey dad, get a pic of me showing off my mad bar-tending skills! And he did, but was like, "I don't know what happened, something got in the way of the camera."

His thumb. Gotta love parent's and technology. Whenever Eileen (who provided the rum)'s daughter KSB tells her she's computer illiterate Eileen says, "Not illiterate, i just speak broken computer." Which, true (and totally an old person joke).   Garnish with orange wedge, and ta-da!!

To truly taste something, according to Phil, you have to close your eyes to, "Awaken your senses."

Good stuff! Complete with the Phil seal of approval.

Nothin' like a good ole' French 75.

 I got stuck in the library with Nanc for like 3 hours today. We went originally because i wanted a book which should have taken 2 minuets, but then she got on the ole' interweb, and became obsessed with ancestry.com, and well... that was that. I started researching new cars, motorcycles, beer, books, and finally cocktails. That's when i stumbled on Prohibition, which is one of my favorite historical times. It's just so shady... like me! Anyway i love it, and their cocktails are also the best, which is why i'm making this one for my friend DC who's coming over for dinner tonight. She came all the way from Brooklyn just for me!! (Okay, so she might have to babysit her parents dogs, but whatever. Same difference).

Dinner was supposed to be having spaghetti and meatballs, but then we got home from the library there was meatloaf and meatballs on the counter and:

Nanc: These meatballs are for us.
Me: Are you sure? I thought they were for dinner.
Nanc: No, the meatloaf is for dinner, these were just extras.
Me: I don't think...
Nanc: No, i'm right

And i was hungry, so what can I say? We ate all the meatballs. Anyway a little while later my dad came in and was like, "What happened to all the meat balls?" and long story short, we're now having Spaghetti and "Meatballs" for dinner, aka Spaghetti and cut up pieces of meatloaf. Also sausage, because now we don't have enough food. GO MEAT!

I saw Thor 3D last night - eh. I think the more you pay Natalie Portman for a film the worse her acting ability is. Or it could be a toss up: Heads = Acadamey Award Winner, Tails = No Strings Attached. This is completely unrelated, but just thought i'd share.

So, the French 75, what a stunner! Really though, it's delicious and doesn't taste like alcohol. A real Femme Fatale, if you will (my apologies, Phil and i have been watching a lot of old movies as of late). Anyway, i'm making a pitcher of these babies, so combine:

6oz dry gin (or tanquery because it's the only thing in the house).
1-2oz fresh squeezed lemon juice (not today junior. We used the good ole' fashion minuet maid squeeze bottle).
Simple Syrup to taste (bring 1cup sugar and one cup water to boil, simmer covered for 5min, let cool).

Mix it all up. Fill a Campaign flute (mom let me use the good crystal for this one, just for you DC!) one quarter of the way:

Top with the finest bubbly money can buy:

Garnish with a Maraschino cherry and an orange slice (we didn't have any maraschino cherries, but what can you do?):

And ta-da! Now i want to watch Dick Tracey... I blame you for this THOR!!!

And i think it goes without saying that this is the perfect beverage with which to enjoy the Phillie's game.

The Great Strawberry Adventure.

So today is a sad/weird day for me because my friend Emily Specchio, really my sister, died five years ago today.

But this is not a sad blog (but maybe a little weird), and Em was a hilarious/amazing person, so I figured i'd tell you one of my favorite stories. I have about one billion of them, and i tell this one an awful lot, so i'm sorry if you've heard it before, but i just love it.

When we were in high school Emily used to work at this chocolat-ary: J Emanuel. Many a time we'd have a family party and she'd show up late covered in cocoa powder, and I'd be all, "Just in time for dessert!" and she'd be like, "I hate chocolate and you." (or some similar conversation). Anyway she started at their small shop in Chester, and worked her way up to the Morristown store, where apparently the lady in charge really liked her. So one day she comes over and is like:

Em: You guys won't believe what happened to me.
DPL & I: What.
Em: Let me just tell you this story...

The Morristown lady hated the Chester store, so she calls up Em before work and is like, "Hey i'm really sorry, but do you mind stopping by the Chester store on your way to work, because they're making these chocolate covered strawberries for us, and i need them now. So Em's like, "sure." and goes to pick them up. Anyway the Chester lady is apparently crazy, is yelling at Em for being late, they're like not even done with the strawberries yet, and telling Emily she needs to get them there as fast as possible cause the Morristown lady just called and is kind of pissed off. So eventually they get the Strawberries dipped, and hope that they'll dry in the car on the way to the other store.

Finally Emily leaves, but is in kind of a panic because she doesn't want to get in trouble for this shit. So she get's to 206, and it's like this impossible turn that you can never merge in and have to wait like half an hour. Em realizes she's going to have to cut someone off, and eventually seeing her chance, shoves her way between two cars. So the car behind her beeps, and she waves them off and is like, 'i know, i know, i cut you off, sorry.' But then the car keeps beeping, and she's like, 'alright fucker, i said i was sorry, what do you want from me?' Suddenly the whole line of cars behind her start beeping like crazy and she looks up and realizes the car in front of her is a hearse, and she's cut off an entire funeral procession.

So of course she pulls off at the next road, but takes the turn really fast, and all of the strawberries fly forward and end up all over the back seat of her car. So she's like cracking up, because it's one of those moments that, 'of course this is happening, of course.' and she tries to brush them off as well as she can, but they weren't dry yet, so they're a little fuzzy and gross. She eventually puts them back and drives to the Morristown store.

When she get's there the lady comes out and is like, "Hey, thanks for getting those for me." and she goes to take them out of the back and picks one up and is like, "Fucking Chester. That store can't do anything right."

So of course i had to make Chocolate Covered Strawberries:

Melt some chocolate in a double boiler:

Dip Strawberry and let the excess chocolate dry off:

Let dry on wax paper:

The front one looks a little "Chester Edition," but Nanc said the rest are pretty. Anywho... Life can be tough sometime, but the most important thing, i think, is to just live.

Lawnmowers, Televisions, Porch Swings, and Fire.

I love my parents. I don't think anyone reading this can ever doubt that, but sometimes...

Ok, i know they let me live here rent free, and that's really swell of them. In fact i should just shut the fuck up right now, and take life's punches as they come. But you know what? Life's not that easy, and you did create me. I believe it legally states somewhere that you have to put up with my complaints/being a brat on the seldom occasion in which such situation presents itself. So while i do like to fix things, and am lucky enough to be somewhat apt at mechanics, I am not the house super, nor is it a position i will ever claim to want. I'm more then happy to help you out, but not over the entire course of my weekend, and not at 1am, ever.

That being said, i am the house super. 4 TV's and 2 lawnmowers, that's how i spent my weekend, if you were curious. Why did all of our tv's (well most of them) and both the lawnmowers decide to freak out at the same time? I just don't have the answer for you. I'm fairly convinced everyone in the household was taking crazy pills, and they forgot to slip me some this time. Anyway the details of these problems are unimportant/boring, and apparently the phrase, "Would you just shut up and let me think!?!" doesn't mean what i thought it did, but you know what? We made it through, we made it through. Sure Popou's brand new VCR is still on the fritz, and hey maybe you should remember where you unhook things from before you start just taking the whole riding mower apart there Phil, and Nanc... well i'll just hold my tongue on that one. The point is everything can be resolved over a nice fire, cocktails and some good music. So i made a fire:

Despite having an outdoor fire pit, Phil was forced to by this Chimay thing because apparently the open pit is illegal, whatever NJ.  Normally we go Teepee method, but i thought i'd spice it up with the log cabin effect:

But it didn't work so well and we ended up going back to TeePee. So I was like, "hey dad, let's have a fire and Pina Coladas!" And he was like, "yeah!" And then i was like, "Oh, i don't know why i just assumed we'd have stuff for that because we, in fact, don't." And he was like, "I'll go make some thing else..." Which, you guessed it! Margaritas. So then my mom comes home and this conversation happens:

Phil: Hey honey, want a tequilee?
Mom: I don't want another fucking margaritta, Lauren make me a Porch Swing.
Me: I don't think we have the stuff for that.
Mom: What do you mean?? What don't we have?
Me: Lemonade.
Mom: Well we have some frozen lemon juice in the freezer, just make that.
Me: It's frozen, how am i gonna get it out of the bottle?
Mom: Just go heat up some hot water.

So now not only do i have to make a drink during one of my favorite songs, but i have to make the most complicated fucking drink on the planet, that involves practically making tea, lemonade, simple syrup, and a martini all at once, but you know what Nanc? I did it, for you.

And i wish i had taken a fucking picture, because this drink was ridiculous. First of all the simple syrup i had in the fridge had gone to the consistancy of like carmel, so it just stuck in the bottom of the cup. So i had to make new simple syrup with the kettle water i heated to melt the lemon juice, then i put WAAAYYY too much Pimms in it, so i ended up just blending the whole thing in the bullet, it had like a white gelatinous layer at the bottom of the cup. Not my best work.

So then:

Mom: What is this?
Me: It's a Blended Porch Swing, sorry it's a little off.
Mom: I thought it was supposed to be clear, Why is it this color?
Me: Because Pimms in purple.
Mom: What's Pimms?
Me: The liquor in a Porch Swing.
Mom: What about the St. Germain?
Me: There's none of that in this drink.
Mom: What drink did you make with that?
Me: The St. Germain Coctail.
Mom: Oh, i wanted that.

Well too fucking bad, Nanc! Not even the right drink??? I missed half the fucking album to make that ridiculous thing that is not even what you wanted. Great. She had to drink it though, and she knew it too, so things settled down after that. Here's the whole fam in front of the fire:

 Anyway we were listening to some Bob Dylan and talking about music and stuff and my dad goes, "My first concert was Bob Dylan." And mom's all, "Mine was the Greatful Dead. What was your first concert Lauren?" and i was like, "Ummm either 5ive or N*Sync..." So turns out i'm the loser. So i try and redeme myself with this conversation.

Me: Did you know Bob Dylan wrote house of the rising sun, and Corina, Corina?
Dad: I just found out about it last year, i didn't know he wrote Corina though.
Mom: I did.
Dad: Sure you did Nanc, how?
Mom: Cause he's singing it right now.

Wonderful.

Then dad was like, "Do you know who actually played the guitar solo for George Harrison in My Guitar Gently Weeps?" and i was like, "Eric Clapton?" BAM! yesssssssssssss. Then he was like, "Who played Knocking on Heaven's Door for Bob Dylan's induction into the hall of fame?" and i was like, "Who?" and he's like, "Eric Clapton." Then he was like, "Who was the last guitar player to play with Jimi Hendrix?" And you know what? The the answer is Eric Clapton. Apparently he had just seen a documentary on the the man before our little fire side chat. Well played Phil Pappas, well played.

Anyway Phil literally walked into the room right now and said, "The belt on the riding mower just broke, and the new one won't start," so back to the drawing board! But you know what?

"All I am certain of right now is that I don't want to go anywhere, and that's not bad for someone who always used to run." Guess who...

Hammocks and Pork Pies

This is a story about love, family, and smoked pork... the most intense things you can experience. I recently purchased this book: Smoke and Spice, which was one of the best decisions i've made in my life. It not only tells you how to smoke things properly with different equipment but has one million marinades, sobs, and sauces AND gives you suggestions about mixing and matching them all. Simply wonderful.  First i had to get the ingredients, so i went to the butcher shop for a really nice pork butt (larger half of the shoulder) and then to the grocery store for the rest. The recipe specifically calls for turbinado sugar and of course that's the one fucking sugar they didn't have. 20 million different packagings of truvia, but not one sugar in the raw. Anyway i eventually found this:

Which was better than nothing. I write my grocery lists on a napkin because a: it's the only paper we have in the kitchen other then questionable envelopes, and b: It's convenient if i happen to have a snot flow.

Look at the spices! pretty. Anyway i used the Southern Succor Rub for the marinade, which you only have to do over night, but i was going to be short on time and ended up starting it two days ahead which i'm sure can only make it better. Also high five for conquering procrastination Lauren Pappas! Marinade before:

And After:

To prepare the smoker i heated up some charcoal and soaked the wood chips (hickory) in beer (my pale ale) for 1/2 an hour (but really one hour because of weather/Phil related issues).

Here's the trifecta, marinated pork, Southern Sop (which is what you baste the meat in while cook'n) and Carolina Red sauce, which takes the vinegary sauce from eastern NC and the tangy ketchup from the west side. The black and white cookie of NC bbq, if you will. 

Anyway at this point my parents and Popou were getting ready for some greek event in Long Island, and my dad's all, "It's gonna rain later, let's move the smoker to the front porch." So we did. And you know what? No rain in the last three days.

But doesn't Phil clean up nice? Anyway the charcoals are going, the chips are on the fire, and the first sob has been, well, sobbed.

6 hours later the pork smells amazing, but still needs more time, something i don't have. Also i melted my mom's 65 dollar thermometer that she told me to use, and am now responsible for a replacement. So basically i wrap up the pork until manana, throw water on everything, and be line the fuck outta there. The next day i wake up, and essentially do the whole thing again. Meanwhile Phil and i install a hammock:

 

What kills me is, if I'd have waited a second to take the picture his thumbs up would have been perfect, now you just get him on the set up. What a life.

We've been planning this hammock thing for a few weeks, and today i was like, "Hey dad, when did mom ask for a hammock?" And he's like, "She didn't, she gave me an LLBean Catalog with a bunch of things circled in it, but then i saw this hammock and was like: that." So basically he knew what she actually wanted, and ignored it. I don't get it, but you know what? 'the job of the writer is not to judge, but to try to understand.'  Anyway mom seemed to like the hammock:

So we're ok. we did have to adjust the screws and post a few times because it was originally a little low, but you know what? If i didn't go into a project knowing i'd have to redo half of it, i wouldn't be my father's daughter. Plus a beautiful day, bbq, and hammock? What else could you want. How about this fucking gorgeous pie??

  I just made pie crust, mixed the pork and sauce together, and dumped it in.  The pork could have probably smoked a little longer, but about half way into Sunday my dad was like, "Oh, and the Specs are coming over for lunch, so i hope you're all set." Thanks, ass. Anyway bake pie for an hour at 375, and everything will be ok. We managed to eat almost all of it.

And had some lovely conversation at that. One day i'm going to roast a whole pig, but until then I'll just stop and enjoy the lilacs because hey, it's spring!

I know mother's day is over but to all the mom's out there: One day isn't enough to say just how wonderful you are. I can't think of two more deserving then Nanc and Eileen, so thanks for letting me spend it with you.

Strawberry Tart with Orange Cream

I woke up the other morning and was like: I feel like making something! So I run down to the kitchen and of course Phil's cooking beef stew at 8am. If you want to know how many times I've had beef stew in the 6 months i've been home, it's probably more then the previous 9 years combined. Don't get me wrong, beef stew is delicious, but it's summer now and i think the saying goes, "No white after labor day, no beef stew after Hitler's B-day"... or something like that. So this limited my culinary options right off the bat. Also i've been trying to eat a little healthier lately, and therefore staying away from desserts. But hey, strawberries are healthy right?

I especially like the empty aquafina bottle at bottom of the sink.

I started flipping through the Williams-Sonoma Baking Book  and found this strawberry tart recipe. So i thought, 'hey i work with some really cool people, I'll bring them a desert!' (But really: 'How can i make this delicious tart and not end up shoving half of it down my gullet?'(what a hideous word))

Let me tell you a little something about pastries. My mom's church has this yearly event (i think it's been going on for like 30 years or something) called the Peach Festival. It's kind of a big deal at our house. My first two years of college my mom flew me home for this event... from California, i'm just saying. Anyway basically it's a yard sale with all kinds of donated shit, but they make a million pastries and ice creams and stuff all with, you guessed it, peaches. From the time i could hold a pie plate (they start you young in this family) One week every year i spend 12 hour days making fucking peach cobbler, peach kuchen, peach ice cream, canned peaches, and of course peach pie. That's just for the food tent. The best is after you've spent the better part of a week locked in a kitchen with a bunch of elderly ladies you get the privileged of then going home and making the 10 pies your mom promised to donate for the pie sale. There is nothing worse then getting home and finding two bushels of peaches starring you in the face, demanding to be peeled. I can still remember the great argument of 2004 when i basically said, "I'm done with this shit." and my mom almost hit me with a pie pan. That was soon followed by the Great Compromise of five minuets later that basically states: If home, Lauren will help Nance make any and all pies at home with the specific intent of being used in the pie sale.
It was a good deal until she started doubling her pie donations. 

Anyway what i'm trying to say here is: I know how to make a fucking pie.

Ok, so this is a tart, but same difference. Really it's all about the crust, and the most important thing to remember is cold. Get your butter from the freezer, use ice water, re-freeze the crust after you make it, and again after you roll it and put it in the pie tin. This prevents the butter from breaking down, and gives you that flakiness that everyone loves.  Also use as little water as possible, you gotta dry that shit out so it's barely even holding together. Finally don't break down the butter too much. You don't want it totally mixed, because those large pieces of cut butter are what make the magic happen, duh. Details, details, details. If there's one life lesson i can impart upon you via blog its that the little stuff matters. Don't cut corners, focus on the little things, and you'll be the master of your own universe just like He-man. Anyway just don't be lazy, especially while baking. 

The orange filling is pretty simple:
8oz cream cheese
1oz orange zest
1/3 cup sugar
and something else i don't remember. Whip it all together and spread it in the bottom of the cooled tart shell.

Try not to break the edges, but if you do, you can just stick the sides back on via filling, well if your mom doesn't eat them first. Next place the strawberries on top, heat up some Apricot jam in a saucepan until it turns to liquid:

Run it through a sieve, then brush the strawberries with it before it re-takes it's gelatinous form. And Wa-la!

 

Picture fucking perfect.

Day Trip - Pennsylvania

As of late, Nanc has been complaining that we don't spend enough time together. I mean I spent the last 9 years living no closer than a 5 hour plane flight, and now we see each other on a daily basis, but you know what? Fine. You want me, ya got me.
So of course she spends the first 20min of our car ride on the phone with her friend Barb. She hangs up and is like:

Mom: Where are we going?
Me: YOU'RE DRIVING.
Dad: Check the glove compartment for maps.
Me: Virginia, Rhode Island, New York City.
Mom (to dad): Where's your GPS?
Dad: Lauren's car, where else?

Which, ok i'll admit for the most part i steal my dad's GPS, because i use it. Normally i put it back afterward, where it can just sit, unused, on his front window. And ok, it is his, but i totally plan on buying my own Global Positioning System one day, but this pay check was credit cards and a yoga mat, so oBvs it had to take a back seat. Anyway this conversation is obsolete because we're in my mom's car, where the GPS would never be anyway.

We cross into Pennsylvania and the traffic on 80W is absurd. Then mom's like, "Hey there's the Delaware water gap welcome center, lets go there and get a map and some pamphlets!" So we're like, fine, and she starts driving there, then like one light before the turn is like, "Hey maybe we should just take a right here, and see where it takes us!" Which is soooo typical Nanc. Normally i'm down for these adventures, but we have no map or idea where we are, so i'm like, "No. Welcome Center first." 

Dad picks up this pamphlet:

And we're like Cool! Then mom picks up this one:

And it's like, really? Anything but candles, please. But then i find this one:

And i think we'll be able to come to some sort of agreement. So Nanc is like, let's check out the view of the reservoir from the look out point on the top of the center and... it's a fucking perfect view:

Of highway 80, where there has obviously been some type of accident. So the Welcome center guy tells us to take 116, and gives us a free map of Pennsylvania to which my dad responds, "Well, we're obviously out of Jersey." So we hop back in the car, and i look at the little map on the back of the pamphlet, and determine we have to go South. So then my mom's like, "Oh! There's the turn!" and turns directly into a diner parking lot. So we're like, "I think it's actually that slow curve 10 feet ahead," and she's like, "It's always an adventure when mom's driving." Which, true. So we drive down a little, and find another look out point that Nanc swerves into, almost passes, then turns into the exit going the opposite way. And look! 

More highway! You really need to work on your view points, Pennsylvania. So we drive a little more down this super cool road with awesome little shops and restaurants, and  nature:

And then mom's like, hey i think we should have hit the highway by now, let me see that map. So i give her the pamphlet and she's like, "You're using this piece of shit? Why didn't you use the map the guy gave us?" And i just don't know, so she proceeds to use that one and determines that we are, in fact, going the wrong way. But hey, it was pretty. So eventually (like half an hour later) we get to the country junction:

Which is the weirdest store in the world. I mean where else can you buy a fake dead bald eagle and a reasonably priced carpet, all in the same pile?

I pretty much wandered around and took pictures including: A dragon, a stone steak, Captain Jack Sparrow (always!), an elephant and giraffe chilling with a triceratops, an old man in an out house, among many others. Eventually i find my dad who is probably thinking, "I wish this bar was real."

And we track down my mom in front of the mid-evil helmets and fake flower display:  

Then we go to lunch, which is gross. I had a stale pretzel, my mom had a sugar in-drenched smoothie, and dad had ice cream because god help the man if he goes 5 hours without it. The place looked cool from the outside, but inside was reminiscent to my high school cafeteria, gross.

 So while mom got more closely acquainted with the Country Junction:

Dad found a farm that must have been in our family for generations:

The words, "Get it? I'm Pappy!" Actually came out of his mouth right before this shot. Anyway the Country Junction was not worth the visit, but Phil said it best, "Yeah, but if we didn't come here, we always would have wondered." True. So i was like, "Hey next time let's just walk around the water and go eat at one of those cool restaurants we passed on that road we took by accident." And Dad was like, "If you feel like walking I don't mind parking the car two miles up the road, meet you there!" Ass. Anyway at this point we decided to go home, and not make that Candle Store stop, thank god:

Best two shots of the trip: Above on 80E right before leaving the state. Below further down 80E on the turn off to 206S.