Forced Family, Forced Fun, and Forced Fed

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RH Buffet 2015

It's Rosh Hashanah time again! 

For all you Jebliers (Jesus fans) out there that means today is the Jewish New Year and the start of our holiday season. It's one of two times a year you have to go all American Ninja Warrior at temple to get a seat. 

Unfortunately this year I am not physically close enough to my blood family to force them into eating my food and pushing my Jew-bulousness (Jew Fabulousness) upon them. I am also not physically near my Jew Bestie Forever and her family to get my Russian Jew fix. 

Fortunately for me I am in a living situation surrounded by new friends who are willing to eat whatever I put in front of them with the promise of alcohol. So this year I forced all my new Southern friends to come over to my pied a terre where I filled what little counter space with all the cheeses. All of them.

This week I spent my down time scouring cookbooks and stalking middle aged female celebrity chefs online. Then two days ago I had a Me Moment with my platters. I hadn't spent any one on one time with my platters for months. So like a good 80's romantic evening I lit some candles, put on a Carly Simon album, poured a La Croix, and reacquainted myself with all my favorite lovers. After a few hours I totally started to understand the point of view of the mother from Flowers in The Attic. Some of my lovers ended up back in the pantry with the promise to see the light of a buffet table at a later date.

Starting early on Saturday I got to work with what I feel covers everything a Southern Jew Rosh Hashanah Brunch needs. Needless to say finding smoked salmon options in a medium sized Southern non coastal city was not easy. There was one. It wasn't bad.

I filled all my baking dishes and sheet pans (and my mouth periodically). Ran the dishwasher twice and wrapped up a few episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. All in all a productive day. 

The menu ended up with the following: 

Smoked Salmon and Dill Quiche with Feta

Cinnamon Kugel

Traditional Challah Bread

Deviled Eggs

Mini Honey Bundt Cakes

Meat and Cheese Platter (Pimento Cheese included)

Spring Green Pomegranate Salad with Almond Halva Dressing

To recap I will say for being the only Jew in the room I was very pleased to be able to share this New Year with the kids at Melrose Place. However my new goal is to get @crazyjewishmom to find me a new Jewish doctor who still has a mother around to cook a Rosh Hashanah meal for me. 

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BAM! I'm a Jew: Sandwich Loaf, Showers, and Sweet Sweet Benedict Cumberbatch

Benedict Cumberbatch, his chest, and a punch bowl

If you have ever read this blog you know that I NEVER talk about my personal life. Like ever.

And that folks is ACTING! Or perhaps just a lie.

To bring you up to speed (as I missed last week and am very very sorry about that):

It is shower season here in the Mighty Midwest. I’m not talking about those very personal moments with the shower head, Sade crooning in the background and a lovely scented candle. I’m talking about baby showers, wedding showers and any other reason under the sun to gift someone you love a spice rack or breast pump.

I’m not sure how things go in other regions of our fine planet but here in Minnesota we don’t fuck around with showers (forgive the language but I wanted to convey how important we take showers here). I mean when else can you gift a breast pump?

Last month I was 1/3 of a planning committee for a shower honoring my wonderful friend, Finer Film and her upcoming offspring (whose name has yet to be disclosed but I’m pretty sure it rhymes with Tenjamin…fingers crossed). After what was probably close to a thousand emails, multiple carrier pigeons and few smoke signals I was able to work out a meal plan for Finer Film’s baby shower.

Her other two besties were in charge of games, providing a place to host and added food.

Which by the dubs was amazing.

2/3 of the planning committee made a to die for frittata (eggs from the backyard chickens – makes me think of that only Portlandia episode I watched where they go to meet the organic farmer who’s chicken they are about to eat at a restaurant) and 3/3 of the planning committee managed to create baby shower games that didn’t make me want to perform my own vasectomy.

I took this opportunity to share with my baby making crew a long held food tradition from the hinterlands of Minnesota – The Sandwich Loaf. This goliath of an entrée looks like a dessert but tastes like the whole friggin’ deli exploded in your mouth. Traditionally funeral food up North I have seen this beast whipped up for all occasions.

Imagine if you will layers of squishy white bread, egg salad, more bread, ham salad, more bread, olive spread, more bread (you’ll be backed up for weeks), and wait for it...covered in 4 pounds of cream cheese.

I maybe got lazy and used actual deli salad from Lund’s. Chicken Curry, Turkey with Gruyere and my own egg salad. Because I don’t trust anyone's egg salad but my own.

People take Sandwich Loaf seriously in my hometown. There are classes at the community ed center to learn how build them. That’s right build them. You don’t just make a Sandwich Loaf. You build it.

Are those Large Mouth Bass Dinner Plates? Why yes they are!

Now not to be left out of the shower scene I kinda had one of my own today. 

P.S. DO NOT GOOGLE “shower scene” unless of course you want to see Benedict Cumberbatch in the shower on the Enterprise. Which you do. And then I suggest the shower head, Sade and a scented candle.

Long story short I converted and joined the Jewish ranks today. What started out at as joke that moved to mild curiosity, eventually led me to some classes at my local temple and BAM! Today I am a Jew. There are those out there that won’t buy it. And there are those out there who will wonder what I had to sacrifice to get into one of the coolest clubs on the planet. And there are those out there that should watch out for me on J-Date. Bitches Imma about to updated my profile.

But what better reason to host a party (we're going to call it a shower) than my conversion?

Earlier today I gathered with some of my dearest friends. Some who have been with me the whole Catholic to Jewish path and some who I truly just met last week.

Alongside my conversion buddy (we normally don’t get buddies but this just worked out thanks to our hometown connection and God wanting us to be Jew Besties For Life) we took the final steps today and converted. After what seemed like a lifetime of butchering the Hebrew language in front of our Christian mothers we walked out of the building for the next natural step in becoming a Jew.

Noshing.

Or in my case unhinging my jaw and just inhaling.

JBFL went with her family out to a little local joint they got all schmaltzy about when I asked. You see that? Slipped in a little Yiddish for you.

Jew now.

I took my posse back to the swinging bachelor pad for some kibbutz and nosh.

More Yiddish.

Thanks to the aid of my former Work Wife and Food Styling Arch Rival I had a wonderful spread of savory treats (ham included for the gentiles).

Just Joni was kind enough to bring what is basically Scandinavian Crack in a cake pan. If you know a Minnesotan you know we love our almond extract. And this cake is pure almond extract.

As with most of my Page Six reportable parties this one was a who’s who of the blog.

And if you were kind enough to shower me with a gift (which was completely unnecessary) you will get your due thanks in the mail.

And if your gift was showing up and standing with JBFL and myself (which we’re not sure but think we might have been married while up there – our Hebrew is rusty) I thank you for coming. I’m going to Nancy Drew journal this shit and someday it will be a movie. So if you were at the shower start thinking about who would play you…Benedict Cumberbatch is playing (with) me.

And for the record unlike the other club I belong to I don’t get a toaster oven for converting friends.

So I will not be shoving matzo down your throat. Unless of course you are at one of my fabulous Passover meals.

People kill for that invite…

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"T", "A" and "P"

Sisters from hopefully the same Mister - dressed as Charlotte and Mrs. Flax from Mermaids (a movie about appetizers)

This post is completely out of sequence with reality but I am aware that some of you want to know the dets of the partay that went down at Casa De Roommate a few weeks back...

Here's the backstory: 

A few months ago I was food styling one day and catching up with another stylist (read: gossiping). The other stylist was working on some completely nutritious food involving hot dogs and refrigerated dough. Not one to mix my nitrates with canned bread I didn't think much of it.  

Until....

The Roommate suggested we throw a "welcome to the neighborhood party". I'm over throwing parties that honor me. It gets weird the third time. Trust me. So I countered The Roommate's offer of a party with a moment of pure genius.  

A TACKY APPETIZER PARTY

What's a T.A.P. you ask? A T.A.P. is the best idea ever. We scoured old cookbooks and magazines to make what I feel was an Old Country Buffet worthy spread. I tapped my resources and got some rich recipes out of the 1954 edition of The Betty Crocker cookbook.

I'm pretty sure I read a section of the book instructing me how to make my man happy when he gets home. I thought I was up to date on my happy man making skills.  But according to Betty I need to have a cocktail BEFORE he gets home. Loosen me up a bit after a hard day of homemaking. Or before a hard night of homemaking I guess.  

So The Roommate and I got to work. We cleared off his dining room table and set up the slow cookers. That's right plural slow cookers. We were rocking three of them.  They had a corner of the room dedicated to themselves.  

First let me say it was a who's who of Benjamin Plante blog celebrities.  We were lucky enough to get Work Wife, Irish Car Bomb, Jeggings, Kelly, Camp Counselor, The Roommate, Betsy Wetsy, iMatt, and Sister.

Of course there were a handful of others. And we loved having them all but it's all about the me. 

On to the food!

Diane was kind enough to keep her judgments to herself

Yes. A bucket of croutons. 

Mini Chili Cheese Dogs - Kosher Meat Folks - Non Kosher Snack

Veggie pinwheels because Betsy Wetsy is vegetarian.

A suggestion of work wife - those green balls are not meat free

The Roommate says "cowboy" and "caviar" don't belong in the same sentence - therefore it's tacky (and was my breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days)

state fair boats and biebs - tacky squared

A few people brought to share. Namely my friend Apache Chief (he's tall and if you get that reference you can keep reading my blog - if not G.O.O.G.L.E.).  Apache brought the best tacky appetizer possible. A half eaten bag of blue chips, half a box of wheat thins and some semblance of a dip. That he requested I return the container. Just to be tacky. 

winner best in show - and notice the giant red tub full of slutty slush (I very much suggest following the link to slutty slush)

For dessert we went all out. While The Roommate and I wandered the aisles of the grocery store I struggled with what to make for dessert. Naturally I had a jello mold setting up in the icebox.  But for a back up I wanted something that might clog the pipes up. That's when I stumbled upon a wonderful end cap of Little Debbie Snack Cakes.  

Dessert was a nice spread of Zebra Cakes. Funny thing about the Zebra Cakes.  Everyone one silently turned their noses up as they assessed the food situation. They think I didn't see. But I did. And you know what? There wasn't a single Zebra left on the plate by partly close. Now mind you I could have taken the whole platter into the shower and eaten them in one sitting but I didn't. I let all the little Simba's out there in the living room sneak in and devour those Zebra Cakes like it was open hunting in the African wild. And there is no better sight than watching a mildly drunk friend saunter over and swipe up that cello wrapped lump of "food" and take it down in two bites thinking nobody is watching.  

damn slush - ZEBRA CAKES!

The party raged on and soon all the crock pots were empty. After getting the last straggler out the door and a few house guests to bed I got to cleaning. Gotta make my keep around here. No really. I do.  

I joke. I just cringed at the idea of missing CBS Sunday Morning because I was scrubbing slow cookers.  

Overall a tacky success! Did we miss any great appetizers? Let me know so I can judge and then secretly make it then eat it in the shower while nobody is watching 

2 Piece, A Biscuit and Marlo Thomas

Last night was a special night for Supper Sluts.  

On with the food...

Kelly's mom was visiting so she fried up some chicken. Best damn fried chicken I have ever had. I then had the pleasure of chasing it with some homemade Mac and Cheese. Don't get me wrong there is something wonderful about the whole block of cheese melted in with slightly al dente elbow noodles covered in black pepper - but who are we kidding...Kraft has the market on Mac and Cheese. Judge away.  

All of this was paired with an addictive like substance called Red Beans and Rice. Having steered clear of this for years while growing up I decided to forge ahead in the name of Black History Month in June and try it.

Could not get enough. Kelly added some flair with andouille sausage. I secretly wanted to take the pan and sit in the corner of invisibility while eating it all.  

The final shot of the night came in the form of Lemonade Pie. Now in my mind's imagination this is an old family recipe that I will someday harass Kelly for. It's pretty much what you imagine. A lemon flavored cream pie. When asked I learned that it involved "folding" of ingredients. This concept seemed to baffle some of the Sluts. My blood pressure rose just a bit. I got over it. But for those who care - when the recipe says to FOLD, DO NOT WHISK!

If you need a tutorial check this out...FOLDING 101.

Before I forget...I did some eating out recently.

First at Jasmin 26 (closed as of 12/25/2016). This little Vietnamese joint was pretty good. I sat at the bar, drank a cosmo like it was 1998 and really enjoyed the Spicy Beef Salad. Now the roommate went a few weeks later and did not have rave reviews. I got the feeling it was just mediocre. Either way I liked it. And it was out of my previous life's bubble.  

Second at The Depot Tavern at First Ave. I'm pretty sure this place used to be a check cashing establishment. Very much a normal bar/food appeal to it. Slight hipster twang based totally on the cute server who called me and every guy at the table "hun". Now based on the server's recommendation I got the curry salad. Not as wonderful as he claimed all previous diners said it was. From the looks of the other plates I think the food could be pretty good. Plus they had a burger special and anytime meat in burger form is specialized I'm sold. But what really cinched the deal on this joint was after the Storm of the Century set in and we were trapped for a while the staff put CaddyShack on the tv's for us to enjoy. Who wouldn't love a little furry gopher action while sucking down a Grain Belt Beer?

With that I am off to do domestic things. I found about 10 lb. of frozen zucchini in my freezer when I recently moved. How many ways can you cook zucchini?

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Farmer's Markets, Jeggings and Supper Sluts

Hello Fan(s)!  I hope you are all well and that you are being blessed with wonderful Summer weather like we here in the mighty Twin Cities have had as of late. In fact just this Sunday morning the roommate and myself had a wonderfully refreshing walk to our neighborhood farmers market in a constant barrage of mist. Moist is something I do not get to experience enough in my daily ventures outside. All joking aside it has been Summer here.  The grass is green (save for the boulevard in front of our house...damn dandelions) and the dogwood has given us our Summer snow.  

In regards to the farmer's market in the new hood, it pretty much had everything a hipster farmer's market needs and nothing I wanted (kind of a lie, but a little true). Plenty of beautifully put up preserves, tasty looking baked goods, expensive salmon, and organic eggs that I'm pretty sure come covered in gold. I was really hoping for large baskets of really cheap vegetables being sold by persons whose first language is not English. But in the end I walked away with a full tummy (thanks to Chef Shack and the tasty brat they provided - see below), the roommate binged on a beautiful falafel from Foxy Falafel (see above) and the front porch now is graced with a great little Amethyst Basil.  Did you know basil can come in other colors?  

What's been going on food styling wise?  I've been extremely busy food styling the last few weeks. There have been some bi-lingual videos (of which I only understood tostadas - if there are any Spanish speaking readers with abuelita's willing to teach I'm willing to learn), some healthy options, some not so healthy options and butt cakes. 

You heard me right. Butt cakes. 

Have you seen these? After you have finished reading this post go immediately to your Google Box and type in "BUTT CAKES" and trust me when I say turn your SafeSearch Filter on moderate to strict (unless of course you're looking for something a little more adult in your cake search).

This coming week is all about homemade popsicles (they are everywhere - and I just realized how wrong it is that both Butt Cakes and homemade popsicles are top on my list of things to talk about this time...sorry). If I learn anything great about popsicles this week I'll report back.  As of right now all I can tell you is that my sister turned me on to homemade frozen Greek yogurt pops a while back. They are wonderful. And according to that little #5 container they have more protein than the usual yogurt popsicle.  

Now onto more important things...Supper Sluts. 

For those of you not in the know Supper Sluts was the brainchild of the roommate and his lady friends this past January. They wanted a way to make sure EVERYONE in the group got together more than the twice annual attempts made in the past. So the first Sunday of every month is dedicated to a little kibitz and nosh. One person hosts and provides a meal. Everyone else just shows up. It can be a classy taco dish (credit to the roommate) or an even classier buffet style Little Caesar's Pizza Party. Great idea right?!?! Well this fine month of May I was able to attend a meeting of the secret society of Supper Sluts. All thanks to the roommate and his jet set lifestyle. Because he was off eating bbq is some state south of us I was called in to be his proxy. And being that I am unable to show up empty handed I brought a cheesecake.  Which is against Supper Sluts rules I think but as I cannot show up without a hostess gift...they got a cheesecake. 

I had some leftover rhubarb, strawberries and raspberries so whipped up a berry cheesecake to go with the wonderful taco bar provided by this month's hostess. I'm crossing my fingers that I make pledge during rush week and that Supper Sluts lets me back. If not, I will make sure that the roommate fills me in and then I will just gossip about them on the blog. 

And now I am sure you are wondering where the jeggings come into play.  One of the participants in Suppers Sluts (we'll simply call her Jeggings based on her penchant for...wait for it...Jeggings) was adventurous enough to meet up with myself and the roommate this past Saturday evening for some local fare at Tugg's Tavern. And by fare I mean beer and cocktails.  You know my love of "bar food". Jeggings and her main squeeze were a good time. And that's totally me sucking up to find a sponsor for my pledge into Supper Sluts.   

With that I should sign off - This week is chock full of stuff to do and eat. Until next time. 

Oh wait...I forgot one thing.  Today there was a casualty due to food and blogging. As I nestled onto the bed to bring everyone up to date on really important food stuff I started to get a subtle hint of sweet milk chocolate wafting up around me.  At first I Googled signs on strokes. Then gave up and decided I needed a ginger ale (over 140 days Diet Coke sober beeyotches!). As I went to remove the laptop from my lap I found the source of my chocolate room freshener. Somehow (and I'm sure I can pin the blame on any of the millions of guests I have in my bedroom) a milk chocolate chip managed to adhere itself to the bottom of my fireplace of a laptop and then proceeded to make my jeans into some sort of Levi/Hershey hybrid. What can we learn from this? Make sure to midnight binge eat over the sink. And to scotchguard your jeans.  

And I'm off...

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