Since I was curious about how much of a difference preserved lemons make in flavoring and thought pickling jars filled with lemons might look attractive on our kitchen shelves, I thought I’d give it a go. I’ve never made preserved lemons, but the recipes I’ve found online made it seem simple enough, and they seem versatile when it comes to adding herbs and spices.
I decided to use a bay leaf, fennel seeds, peppercorns, and a small stick of cinnamon. And of course, preserved lemons, essentially being pickled or brined lemons, require A LOT of salt. Note: Initially, I started out wanting to use pink Himalayan, but I was worried that the pink might make for bizarre aesthetics so I switched it out for regular sea salt for my first attempt.
You might want to make sure you’re papercut-free; cleaning up the lemon juice and salt from the counters could go from being a figurative pain to literal pain if you’re not.
The most difficult part of making preserved lemons is the waiting. With the chill returning to Philly, I’ve been wanting to make Moroccan chicken in the crock-pot, but I’m going to have to wait a month before the lemons will be ready. I’ll have a follow-up post when they’re ready.
Stacy
* I say “I’m never watching ‘The Walking Dead’ again!” on a weekly basis, but I’ve never been very good at kicking bad habits.
]]>Sadly, I’ve been disappointed when ordering them at bars as there always seems to be at least one ingredient missing, but I did have some luck at Goat Hollow where the bartender wasn’t familiar with the drink but was up to the challenge.
I figured it would just be easier making it at home. Since we FINALLY got all the ingredients last weekend – tracking down absinthe was a pain, I thought I’d share the recipe on the blog.
There’s a number of variations on the Corpse Reviver which appeared in The Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock in 1930 – yes, as in the Savoy Hotel. Apparently, the drink got its name from its original function – a hair of the dog hangover cure. No. 2 seems to be the most popular, although there’s a lot of variations on it alone as well.
I told Graham that nothing good usually happens after I’ve had a Corpse Reviver. In the past, I’ve burned my hand on a tatertot-covered cookie sheet while drungry (I still have a scar) and also dropped my keys down an elevator shaft coming home from the bar (it was a long wait for my roommate that night). I really should rename this drink the “Curse Reviver.” After looking at the ingredients, Graham said, “Well, no wonder.. it’s basically all alcohol.”See? Anyhow..
Yes, that’s a wine glass. We don’t own cocktail glasses (aka martini glasses). I’m ashamed of drinking cocktails in glasses other than tumblers, yes, that includes martinis.
Yes, that’s a cherry. No, you shouldn’t add it; it’s there for photo aesthetics only.
Yes, after I took this photo, I got rid of the maraschino and dumped the drink into a tumbler.. that’s how I roll.
There’s also a version called the Kentucky Corpse Reviver that uses bourbon instead of gin. I refuse to ruin perfectly good bourbon for this drink.
Stacy
PS. It’s been 6 hours and I have not burned, maimed, or lost anything yet.
]]>When I first started making this at home, Graham would often opt out in favor of his own breakfast sandwich (ie. egg and cheese deep-fried in butter – “It’s French cooking, Honey!”). I gave him a bite of mine one day, and now, surprisingly, he always requests one of his own.Having these for breakfast or lunch always take me back to our early stages of dating.. before he became aware of all my tics and idiosyncrasies. Luckily, when he threatened to return me to my parents a month after we got married, my mom told him his warranty on me has expired. At least he gets egg salad sandwiches out of it.
Stacy
]]>If you follow me on Facebook or Instagram, you’ve probably seen a lot of food pictures, and if you’ve been a regular reader of this blog, you’ve probably developed a lot of sympathy for Graham. Me too. Poor Graham. I’m a tyrant.. and my control freak nature comes out in full force in the kitchen. I loathe to let Graham take the reins at mealtime. He’s GREAT in the kitchen. I love it when he cooks salmon for dinner or shakshuka for brunch.. but I always have to look away. It’s better that the health nut in me not see just exactly how much oil and butter saturates the pan.
For the longest time though, the big rule in the kitchen was that Graham was not allowed to make sandwiches for me. It seems ridiculous to be so rigid about something so culinarily banal as a sandwich, but I swear there’s an art involved in the layering as well as some practicality! You want each layer to complement the ones above and below it as well as hit your tastebuds at the right time.
It’s not just in our own kitchen.. I’m a harsh critic of sandwiches whenever we go out. And burgers! Which really are just heartier sandwiches.. I will deconstruct and reconstruct a burger if possible to get the right layers together, softly whining, “Why are they doing this wrong?”. After a year of living together and playing sandwich dictator, Graham, rather exasperated, asked me what the rules were for creating a sandwich that would pass the Stacy test. I went to town with a diagram on our kitchen whiteboard which remained there until the whiteboard and us went our separate ways – us to Mount Airy, the whiteboard to the sidewalk in Graduate Hospital on trash night.
I was planning on posting my favorite egg salad sandwich recipe today, but the camera on my phone decided to be uncooperative, so I’m posting a revised sandwich chart instead..
This is for your run-of-the-mill deli sandwich. There’s variations when it comes to burgers, grilled cheese, veggie sandwiches, etc, but a lot of the basic principles still apply. I should add that these are guidelines for sandwiches I eat.. it’s all a matter of personal preference. Starting with the bottom layer and working up to the top:
Additional Info:
Stacy (Supreme Dear Leader)
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