Spin Cycle Through Hell

So normally I write about food. And by normally I mean when my lazy ass gets around to it. But let me switch to the other side of food - burning it off. 

And now... an hour of my life broken down for you. 

6:54P: Sign in and realize I have nothing to help me avoid other people. Go out to car to get phone.

6:58P: Ushered into a tiny room filled with deconstructed bikes after looking incredibly important for 4 min

6:59P: I have to put together my own equipment?! Gold's doesn't make me do that! 

7:02P: Hardest. Seat. Ever. 

7:03P: Loud music. Instructor shouts something about hills and sprints and being on her leg. Confusion.

7:10P: Why does she keep yelling out numbers?

7:15P: Oh sitting = weak.

7:16P: Fuck. I have only been doing this for 15 min.

7:18P: That clock is slow.

7:20P: I will never need a colonoscopy. Thanks incredibly hard and horribly positioned bike seat!

7:21: Who chooses this music? Why is it so loud? Why am I so old? 

7:26P: Check woman next to me. Hello blond woman less than 6 inches from my face. 

7:26:02: Thank God she's sitting down. 

7:32P: Bored. LA LA LA LA. Pedaling. LA LA LA. Oh I guess I can sit to recover. 

7:40P: Wait is this supposed to be HARDER or easier? 

7:45P: Girl in front of me needs a sandwich. Girl next to her needs a rack of ribs and a milkshake. 

7:50P: THANK JESUS are we going to cool down... oh GUESS NOT. 

8:02P: Oh I need to take the bike APART again? UNION! 

Outstanding questions: 

1) I rode a bike for an hour today and never actually went anywhere. What kind of sadistic insane shit is that?

2) Why do we sit so close to each other? Sharon (aka blond woman six inches from my face) is lovely. If we're feeling an impromptu lesbian moment, well then, we're all set what with her being in my MOLARS. 

3) The instructor would occasionally yell out "TRAVEL!" What? Who? Travel WHERE? I am bolted to pedals in a hot room. 

4) Why are we shimmying? I AM PEDALING FURIOUSLY. 

Needless to say, I don't know if spinning is my thing. I am a runner. Not a great runner. Not a fast runner. But a runner. And while I am sure that I burned a shit ton of calories (thank Jeebus), I don't feel like I accomplished something. At the end of this class, I felt sweaty and gross and in the same place I started. 

In FULL DISCLOSURE, I have been trying to get into the BASICS class for WEEKS now - which I am sure is the majority of the source of my frustration. I HATE not knowing what's going on. Also, I hate losing. And being bad at stuff. And being off beat. 

What? I AM TYPE A DAMMIT. 

So yeah. Basics class. Then a full-spin rundown. 

You can TOTALLY go home again... to eat.

Nothing says "happy happy joy joy" to me like homemade Cuban food. And look, I love me some North Carolina but there is no comparison to Little Havana cooks. Abuelitas that have spent their entire lives perfecting piccadillo and frijoles negros, grandfather's teaching their grandsons exactly how to prepare a pig for la caja china, aunts who can time a tostone to perfection and teeny window bakeries serving thimbles of Cuban crack and pastelitos made of guava. 


I landed in Fort Lauderdale just in time for a ginormous sushi lunch @ Sakura in Coral Springs. Don't worry - I'll get to the Cuban in a minute. 

That boat? Yeah it's for TWO people. There were three of us. And still sashimi remained. Florida is a cesspool of humanity but damn if that seafood isn't incredibly fresh and delicious. 


Immediately after lunch my father asked, "So ... Cuban food tonight?"
This plantain did not fall from the tree folks. 

Speaking of plantains....

BAM

Guys, I almost cried. That right there is a plateful of Cuban love. Well... 3 platefuls. Moros, Lechon and Tostones. Or dinner as they call it at Romeu's Cuban Restaurant in Pembroke Pines. The place is run by a bunch of old school Cubans who still use a loudspeaker from the kitchen to call the managers or servers attention. You eat dinner to the sound of "Angelo... se acabo la fricasse" or "Marta.... Marta...Marta."  My family and I crack up every time someone comes over the loudspeaker. And that happens about every 5 minutes. We laugh a lot. 


Oh right... dinner. So here's what you see: 


1) Moros - short for Moros y Christianos - is directly translated as Muslisms & Christians. Actually, the racist version is Coloreds & Christians but I digress. Ya'll that shit is HARD to make at home. You need to add the right amount of liquid for the beans and rice to soften and absorb BUT not so much that you end up with a big pile of flavorless, wet mush. And that is NOT a plate of Cuban love but of Cuban fail. Which I have done about a million times. 


2) Lechon Asada - pork roasted to yummy garlicky perfection. Honestly, I haven't tried to make this in a while and frankly, it should be left to the experts. Tender, pull apart, flavorful deliciousness covered in mojo. What's mojo you ask? It's the perfect combination of garlic, olive oil and citrus juice. Cubans traditionally use naranja agria or sour orange. Because it's a fruit native to Cuba and pretty much smuggled to Miami, you can't find it anywhere outside of FL. What? We're classy with the smuggling of plants!
There's a combination of lemons to limes that mimic the flavor pretty closely if you're tempted to try it at home, use this 3 Guys from Miami recipe.


3) Tostones - fried plantains. Not to be confused with maduros which are fried sweet plantains. These are giant, delicious Frisbees of carbs and salt. My grandmother used to smash the plantain slices down with glass bottles to get the shape right. Now they have all the plantain flatteners you would ever need. I have a feeling these were made the old-fashioned way with elbow grease and a huge glass bottle. The trick to these is keeping the oil hot so they fry crispy rather than absorbing the oil. If you don't have a deep fryer (which I don't and no one in my family ever has), it's a delicate dance between dropping them in, flipping them over, adding new ones and monitoring the heat. I am terrified of hot oil splatter so CLEARLY I haven't even attempted to make these. But oh sweet lord are they amazingly delicious. 


I ate about 1/3 of that meal, saving the majority of the pork and moros for lunch the next day. Honestly, the majority of it is still in my parent's fridge. 


Equally delicious but somewhat horrifying? 

That's my brother's dinner. 
Deep-fried flank steak (he's holding HALF), rice, beans and tostones. 


I gained 5lbs just taking this picture. 


LOOK AWAY BEFORE YOUR JEANS DON'T FIT. 

Things that make me SQUEEEEE!

As in the Farmers Market. Yesterday was the perfect day for my Craig to yank my ass out of bed at 8am, pour coffee down my throat and shove me into the car. I know it SOUNDS awful, but guys look at these:

Are these not the most gorgeous beets ever? And for $2? YES PLEASE!

Antioxidants anyone?

I have to be honest here and say that I kinda ruined these beauties. I didn't roast them long enough and well, they came out crunchy. So meh on that. However, I think shredding them and putting them on a salad might be interesting. Not that this is news to anyone but USE GLOVES. My fingertips still have that purple hue 12 hours later.









Can I get a what what for strawberry season?! MMMMMmmmmm.....

Oh what a sacrifice (sarcasm font to be used here) to try every single strawberry being proffered by perky farm teens. "Ya'll want a try a strawberry? Everyone's tastes different!" Indeed. Some were perfect, other's watery and some still hard - harvested too early.

SUGAR!!!!!!!!!! SQUEEE!

And what did I do with the yummy ripe strawberries?

Yes, it's in my fridge. What? The lighting was better!

This recipe came from Cook's Illustrated. If you don't read it I HIGHLY recommend picking one up. They're amazing at telling you HOW they get to the recipe and what inspires it. I love knowing all the ingredients and tinkering they go through before they get to Goldilocks (juuuuust right).

Here's the link: http://www.cooksillustrated.com/recipes/detail.asp?docid=27850

Sign up for the 14-Day Trial. Trust me - it's worth it. We go old school and get it on ACTUAL paper. The paintings and illustrations are gorgeous. Plus, I still like something solid that I can hold and get dirty and put notes on. A good friend gave it to Craig as a gift and frankly, I didn't even know there was a site until I looked for the link to share (BAD DIGITAL NATIVE!).

So what did I miss at your farmers market?

Charleston, SC - Want to be fat & broke? Chucktown makes it happen.

Oyster Shooters - yummy alcohol oystery goodness @ Pearlz. Yes, with a Z.

                                                                                                                                                                      The following food items are from Hominy Grill. Not pictured? Chocolate pudding, caramel cake and my internal organs begging for mercy.

Don't even remember what this is - but the Hubs got it and clearly loved it. 

Shrimp & Grits. Two things that don't seem to make sense but is a HARMONY of yummy to your palate. 

The Big Nasty. It's considered a "small plate." This is why we're fat (albeit happy) ya'll. 

Here's the deal

I like to cook and I hate to mess it up. I love to feed people and get INCREDIBLY insecure if I am not lauded immediately after the first bite. But first and foremost, I LOVE to eat. I love to break bread with friends at local restaurants, on outdoor decks and around the kitchen island. As a kid, T.G.I Fridays was a treat, now it's like a jail sentence - interminable and horrifying. There are very few chain restaurants I am willing to dine in, never mind enjoy. Oh - I am not fat or anything. I mean if 15lbs dropped away it wouldn't break my heart but overall looking at me shouldn't give you nightmares.

One more thing: Food Pictures

You're going to see a lot of them. I don't know how it started and I don't know why I continue to do it. But I love taking pictures of food. They're not professional and they sure as hell ain't pretty. 

I had this idea once to take a picture of everything I made from scratch and then cover my hideous-yet-on-sale cookbook with all my delicious food photos. That happened exactly never. I am not crafty and don't have the patience to print the photos (PRINT?! Photos? Do people still do that? Huh.) and then laminate them to the cookbook. Ah unfinished ideas. 

Speaking of which, let's not let this blog be one of those. Occasionally I will post a picture of food and I will do my best to either cite the locale of the deliciousness or the recipe if I used one. BE WARNED: I in no way guarantee my recipes. I hate to measure (unless baking) and I usually add some stuff that was not part of the recipe. I encourage you to do that same. Often, I will write about food and feelings. Please see title. Sometimes I won't write about food at all - just feelings. And lots of them. Don't worry, I am medicated. 

Welcome!