If you know this blog, you know that I don’t cut a lot of corners. In the era of 5-ingredient, 20-minute meals I stubbornly (stupidly?) continue to post long, long recipes. Week after week I come at you with overnight brines, batches of homemade pasta, and simple syrups. Two-week infused rum cocktails, pleated dumplings, and high maintenance poached chicken breasts. I swear I don’t do it to alienate you, I do it because it’s hard and sometimes doing something hard feels really good! And sometimes it doesn’t. And one of those times was this week. I was up to my eyeballs in work and other people’s problems. It was one of those weeks where you feel like you could totally scream into a pillow for the entirety of the weekend. And when you find yourself crawling towards the weekend, today’s Duck Fried Rice will be there for you.
When I was a kid, my mom and I had a ritual. If we ever found ourselves alone for dinner, we’d pop over to our neighborhood Chinese joint. The order was always the same: A plate of Shanghai noodles to split and two orders of wonton soup. It wasn’t a common occurrence because I come from a family of 5. But even if my mom and I only split those noodles 4 or 5 times, those moments had a big impact on me. So much so that to this day, I get a warm and fuzzy feeling every time I see wonton soup on a menu. And that feeling was what I had in mind when I whipped up today’s Scallop Wonton Soup.
It’s been a rough week. I don’t care who you are, the first week of September is generally a bummer. The return to routine after months of BBQ, bonfires and pool parties is a touch, um, unpalatable. How can the daily office grind and mountains of homework compete with non-existant bedtimes and second helpings of s’mores? How?! And while it is true that I’ve sidestepped this shared week of suffering by slipping off to Nova Scotia, I am well-acquainted with the September blues. That’s why I offer you these Chorizo Chilaquiles because I imagine you need them. The weekend you thought would never get here is here and you definitely need brunch.
For as long as I can remember I’ve romanticized Hawaii. It’s a place I’ve always wanted to go but, as of yet, I have never been. Initially, it was the beaches that drew me in. The color palette kills me. The pinks, the greens, the violets, and blues. Just imagining a Hawaiian sunset is enough to make me weak in the knees. But as I grew older and came to the sharp realization that my life would never be