Okay, guys, hold onto your hats! The gratin I posted the other day served as the official start of the holiday season on this here blog. We’ve got two Thanksgivings, a Halloween and Christmas/Hanukkah (Bae is Jewish) to contend with. So, limit your mindless grazing and ramp up your weekly km because things are about to get decadent ’round here. Case in point: this Molasses Apple Cake with Whisky Caramel and Cinnamon Marshmallows. Now, if you’re thinking that just sounds like three desserts stacked on top of each other, well, you’re *very right. It’s a delicious hot mess of a cake and you should take it as a warning. The next few months are going to be a little dicey.
I live in a bubble. It’s not something I’m proud of but it’s something I can’t escape. Sure, every now and then I can expand this bubble but I can’t break it. My only consolation is you have a bubble too. We all do. We’re all locked in a collection of our experiences and from these personal triumphs, let downs and lessons we construct our worldview. There’s nothing wrong with this – it’s human nature. The problem arises when we forget about our bubble. And, as the news cycle continuously and mercilessly remind us, not recognizing our bubble can lead to hurtful and disastrous actions. But this isn’t that kind of blog. Instead, let’s talk about the more lighthearted misunderstandings that come from suddenly seeing beyond one’s bubble. For instance, when I set out to make this Granny Smith Potato Gratin, I had no idea I was wading into controversy.
Okay, so today’s post is going to be a little boring. It’s not because the recipe is boring. Oh no, this Chicken Fettuccine with Pumpkin Tarragon Sauce is the tops. It’s everything you want on a blustery fall evening when you’re so tired you can’t even see straight. No, today’s post will be boring because, to be honest, there is no larger concept behind this dead simple pasta dish. It’s just carbs in a bowl with a freakin’ delicious sauce and some choice proteins. There’s no homey memory, no history lesson, just some good ol’ fashion pasta porn. And if you’re down for that, read on and if you’re not, scroll down – I’m not the boss of you.
I have quite a few food heroes and heroines in this world. Countless men and women who have impacted my cooking life in ways they simply couldn’t imagine because, well, they don’t know who I am. I don’t lament this fact. It’s the magic of shared information and art across the great Internet highway. The idea that I can benefit from the experience and expression of a complete stranger is kind of beautiful. And the fact that these strangers unknowingly coached me towards these Roasted Sugar Beignets is nothing short of extraordinary. So, please! Grab a beignet, sit back and let me tell you about the extraordinary women who make these clouds of bliss possible.