If a recipe calls for a box of cake mix, it’s not a recipe. -The controversial tweet (mine) that launched this tirade

The big push to get everyone back into the kitchen at the expense of quality has gone too far. We don’t expect everyone to be skilled at the art of blacksmithing or horseplowing just because more people knew how to do it back in the day, so why cooking? Some people are good at it because they have the natural talent and/or inclination, as well as the time to hone their craft. There are things that are second nature to me as a person who spends eight hours in the kitchen every day that I would not be able to convey to a rocket scientist Mensa ninja in a month’s time.

And yet, along with the very worthwhile food revolution that is taking place, there is also a nagging push to get people back into the kitchen who simply don’t want to be there. You can’t force a chocolate soufflé any more than you can force good sex. And despite what the proponents of the “semi-homemade” trend might have you believe, you cannot make one out of Cool Whip and microwave-melted Tollhouse chocolate chips. Read more

*Update: Here are Pictures from the actual Cinco De Derby-

I embellished my sombrero with live flowers for a truly hybrid look.

Right after this next shot was taken, he went on to win the race. He sure was tiny!

Here is the start of the food and cocktails portion of this post:

Maybe you’ve noticed I’ve been a little distant lately. It’s not because I’m not cooking- I am. Like, a lot. It’s been hard to document it all to share with you because another big project (I’ll tell you about it very soon!)  is consuming my life and at the end of the day, my therapy is my time in the kitchen, rather than on the page. It’s hard when you have two true loves to figure out how to balance them. I imagine that’s why polygamy isn’t more popular. For me right now, cooking is winning, but next week writing may once again seduce me with her wily, assonant charms.

I have a third love: holidays that encourage dress-up and drinking. Good god, I’m a polyamorous slut. And I would be utterly remiss in my duties as a suitor if I didn’t share with you what I’ve done to commemorate tomorrow. Tomorrow is Cinco De Mayo. Tomorrow is also Derby Day. Both holidays promote bodily beautification-sombreros and brimmed hats, anyone? Both holidays also pay homage to Coctalica- the indigenous goddess of cocktails. Her apparition has visited me in the night a time or two usually when I’m praying to her whilst bent prostrate over the porcelain throne in my bathroom. She looks suspiciously like a very fast horse wearing a sombrero whilst grasping a Mint Julep in one hoof and a margarita in the other. She told me to honor her with a feast tomorrow, but since I’ll be on the (local) racetrack betting on horses and hitting on jockeys, I prepared it in advance.

I did a little research about Mexico and Kentucky so that I could properly fete Coctalica for Cinco de Derby Day. This research led me to the bottom of two cavernous bottles, one of tequila, and the other of bourbon. It was then that I had a vision. The vision was of a many headed creature (this was probably because of the alcohol, I can’t be sure) who spoke in tongues that I couldn’t understand (also due to the liquor?). I finally closed one eye and concentrated really hard and I gathered that I was meant to cook something that could move as swiftly as a racehorse along with accompaniments from Southern and Mexican traditions.

Naturally, I started my feast off with a cocktail. It is composed of Maker’s Mark bourbon, Mexican Coke, a Serrano pepper that I candied using bourbon syrup, sliced jalapenos, cilantro, and a Luxardo cherry- you know, because Italian maraschino cherries have so much to do with Mexico and Kentucky. Oh, and I topped it with a fancy hat, because how could I not? The problem with this drink was its sheer drinkability. Especially in the early afternoon. But a loyal minion of the goddess Coctalica remains true to the cause, and so I soldiered on, if with a little swagger in my step. Read more

This is a continuation of my lonesome ode to biscuits and gravy. Part one can be found here, which is all about biscuits. If you managed to wend your way through that behemoth ballad, you’ll find that you know everything there is to know about creating the bready backdrop to this staple of the south- country gravy.

When I began my quest to perfect this cornerstone dish of Americana cuisine, I focused more of my energy on the biscuit. I reasoned that the biscuit was the base, and therefore more integral to the total composition. I came to discover over time, however, that the gravy is of equal importance because there is nothing worse than ruining a good biscuit with substandard, gloppy gravy. I geared toward gravy, implementing tips and tricks along the way, until I had nailed the perfect texture to coat the flaky biscuits, but I still found something lacking. Read more