One of the nice things about that contest I threw last week was that one of our losing contestants–(is “losing” too harsh a word? I’m sorry)–one of our miserable failures turned me on to a book I knew nothing about. It was the book she requested should she win the contest. She didn’t win the contest. Still, I bought the book. For myself!
The book is (as the title of this post suggests): “Mes Confitures”:
Apparently Clotilde of Chocolate and Zucchini loves this book, and I can see why. It’s a book choc full of fantastic jam and jelly recipes. It’s organized by season and the recipes are so bizarre you feel compelled to make them just to see what they taste like.
Cases in point:
– Spring Carrot with Cinnamon (pg. 11)
– Apple Jelly with Rose Petals (REAL ROSE PETALS!) (pg. 38)
– Zucchini and Peppers with Spices (pg. 71)
– Watermelon, Apples and Grapefruit (pg. 111)
– Spiced Beer Jelly (WITH REAL BEER) (pg. 144)
– Chestnut with Vanilla (pg. 145)
– Apple with Caramel (mmm) (pg. 195)
– Green Tomato and Pumpkin (ewww) (pg. 203)
– Prailine Milk Jam (pg. 234)
I’m so excited to start using this book but I don’t want to make any jams if I can’t eat them until after I move to New York. Does anyone know how long you have to let the jams sit for after you make them? Because I really want to make them. Although, waiting until after I get to NYC is a nice thought too: then I can make all these jams my first few weeks, put them away, and eat them in the winter when it’s cold and nasty. Nothing like Spiced Beer Jelly on a cool winter’s night…
I am of the opinion that “Jackass” has merit. Great drama involves great tension: Will Hamlet kill his uncle? Will Godot ever arrive? Will Johnny Knoxville survive the fall when he pole vaults over a perilous ledge? Such is the magic of theater. (Or, in this case, television).
Tonight, flipping through the channels, I stumbled upon “Jackass: The Movie.” Kismetically, the scene I encountered was food related. I have never seen “Jackass: The Movie” and I didn’t really know what I was in for.
Johnny and his pals are at a sushi bar in Japan(?) and the title card reads: “Wasabi Snooters.”
One of Johnny’s friends gets a big bowl of wasabi and starts mixing it with soy sauce.
“Oh boy!” I laughed knowingly. “He’s going to eat all that wasabi! That guy is going to eat an entire bowl of wasabi!”
Then, after stirring it together, he began layering the soy-soaked wasabi onto a metal tray.
“Why is he doing that, I wonder?” I wondered.
Much like Ray Liotta in Goodfellas, he scraped the wasabi into a line.
“What in heavens–?”
And then he snorted it.
“He WHAT?”
Snorted it.
“I don’t believe you.”
Dude, watch your TV.
“He—-oh my word.”
Apparently, snorting wasabi leads to rapid shaking of the head and vomiting. And for those of you requesting Amateur Gourmet feats of strength, the answer is NO.
Give the people what they want, that’s what I always say. Apparently the people want me to drink wine, make borscht, and eat testes. Easy enough!
Actually, for those of you eager for me to become a vinophile, I photographed the four bottles of wine sitting on our counter for your analysis. Can you see them? Can you tell me about them? Which should I drink first? [If this bar review stuff stays status quo, I’ll be drinking all four in one night…]
Maybe this is a good time to ask: is there anything you’d like me to cook? To eat? To write about? I am open to suggestions as long as they are written in Sanskrit.
Today was a non-food day, I’m afraid. No, it’s not Yom Kippur. It was the first day of the bar review and I’m a little zonked. And by zonked, of course, I mean tired. So forgive my failure to eat anything interesting.
However, I would like to share an epiphany I had. I was listening to Harry Nillson’s “Coconut Song,” you know the one. “You put the lime in the coconut / you drank it all up…” and I decided I wanted to make Lime Coconut Ice Cream (and/or sorbet).
I just searched it on Google. What do you think of this recipe? Maybe I’ll make a video with me making it and the Harry Nillson song in the background? Should I wear a hula skirt?
Coconut Lime Sorbet
1 (15 ounce) can cream of coconut (Coco Lopez is excellent)
3/4 cup water
1/2 cup fresh lime juice (use the juice of fresh key limes if possible)
Optional: Chopped maraschino cherries or other sweet cherries, about 1/2 cup
In a bowl, whisk ingredients together. If you are adding cherries, do so now. Freeze the mixture in an ice cream maker, according the the manufacturer’s instructions. Transfer sorbet to an airtight container and put in freezer to harden. Transfer to serving bowls and garnish with fresh fruit.
With my BarBri bar review class starting tomorrow (I better get to bed!) I need to prepare for a new chapter in my coffee shop patronage. Coffee shops and I have developed a symbiotic relationship these past few years: coffee shops provide me an escape from the dreaded internet (such a distraction!) and other perils of working at home and I provide them with money. Lots and lots of money.
In the winter months, my drinks vary from the mystical snap of Chai Tea to the creamy indulgent kick of a white chocolate mocha. Usually these drinks get me where I need to be got in order to get some work done. But in these summer months, something else must do.
Which is why I present to you my newest drink of choice: The Iced Caramel Macchiato.
Imagine it. Pungent espresso shots meet rich sticky caramel in a bath of cool, comforting milk. All the elements fuse together to create a small cup of deliciousness. My favorite part is the glops of caramel you suck up in the straw. And the whole thing lasts a while.
Iced Caramel Macchiato. It’s the drink of champions!
[NOTE: THE AMATEUR GOURMET WAS NOT PAID A LUCRATIVE SUM TO ENDORSE THE ICED CARAMEL MACCHIATO. STARBUCKS AND THE AMATEUR GOURMET HAVE A PURELY PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP AND ANY ENDORSEMENTS THAT MAY ENSURE ARE SIMPLY THE RESULT OF GENUINE AFFECTION, NOT MONETARY REWARDS. AND SO WHAT IF STARBUCKS, SOMEDAY, MAYBE TUESDAY, SHOWS UP AT MY DOOR WITH A BRAND NEW BMW RACER? WHO CARES IF I AM FLOWN ROUND TRIP TO PARIS, ALL EXPENSES PAID? THIS DOES NOT COMPROMISE MY JOURNALISTIC INTEGRITY. IT IS SIMPLY THE PERKS OF A HEALTHY SOCIAL–I REPEAT SOCIAL–RELATIONSHIP. SO ALL YOU CONSPIRACY THEORISTS AND WHISTLE BLOWERS CAN TAKE A HIKE. THE AMATEUR GOURMET IS THE REAL DEAL FO SHIZZLE. AND HE LOVES STARBUCKS’ NEW COMPILATION CD—“MUSIC FOR COFFEE DRINKERS.” AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL STARBUCKS NOW!]
The cast and crew of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” were swapped for the cast and crew of “O Brother Where Art Thou?” Stepping into Bobby & June’s Kountry Kitchen was like stepping through the looking glass—I came out the other side in a scene from 1956. I felt like Marty McFly gone country.
My original intention was to grab a sandwich. A cuban sandwich, actually, from Kool Korners which I’ve already reviewed here. As I approached the Kool Korner’s grocery I noticed a line outside–the doors weren’t open yet. I didn’t feel like waiting.
And then shining up ahead was a welcoming sign. It looked like this:
And I thought: “What the hey? I’m adventurous. I do adventurous things.”
So I parked in the Kountry Kitchen parking lot and made me way up to the porch:
Already I felt like I was in for something special. Something about this place seemed so quaint, so real that it practically oozed history. I came through the doors and was greeted by what seemed like a whirlwind of activity.
Immediately on my left were rows and rows of busy booths, people chowing down on fried chicken and BBQ. Up ahead was a counter–a long stretched counter–with weathered women behind it wearing outfits that resembled nurse’s uniforms.
A tall black man with only one eye yelled at me: “How many?!”
I faltered. “One!” I said. “For the counter, please!”
“All right,” he said, dismissively. I made my way over to the counter.
Immediately one of the women came over.
“Sweet tea honey?” she said.
“Sure,” I replied.
I looked around me. Giant Georgia Tech banners adorned the walls. A huge display of Coke bottles spanning several decades lined the shelves overhead. A deer’s head emerged near a doorway:
I studied the menu. It was a bit difficult. The waitress returned with my tea.
“What’s good here?” I asked.
“The BBQ,” she said, “beef or pork.”
“Ok,” I said, “Beef.”
“You get two sides, sweetie,” she replied, “you can pick from here or here.”
I looked at two lists of side dishes. One list was the permanent sides, one list was today’s sides.
“I’ll take corn bread,” I started.
“Well no sweetie,” she said, “we can swap the corn bread for the garlic bread and that already comes with that. So pick two more sides.”
I began to feel pressured.
“All right,” I concluded, “coleslaw and mac n’ cheese.”
“Thanks sugar,” she said, mozying off.
I whipped out my New Yorker and suddenly felt the Yankee in King Skynrd’s court.
I looked around me. This place was so full of life it was a bit overwhelming. The tables were practically bursting with activity; a woman cop bantered with a dishwasher, a waitress with dishes yelled “coming through! coming through!” just as another waitress backed up into her.
“I said ‘coming through!’ darling. You gotta listen!”
They laughed it off.
More people sat at the counter. Construction workers in orange vests, business men in ties, a woman wearing a tunic. Older Southern men came in clusters through the back; two rooms behind the counter were also buzzing with activity.
This wasn’t a restaurant, this was a museum of Southern heritage—a living, breathing relic from the past.
Soon my food arrived:
Looks scary, I know. I’m not used to BBQ like this—when I think BBQ I usually think ribs. This was basically slices of pallid meat dressed up with a meaty BBQ sauce. The sauce itself was great, the meat ok. The sides were fine–nothing wowzy. The mac n’ cheese had real cheese.
As for the cornbread…
It was pretty dry. I used it to lap up BBQ sauce and then it seemed to serve a purpose. Very Cider House Rules.
But even if the food wasn’t spectacular, that’s not the point. This is one of those places you really have to experience to experience the South. It’s a living breathing institution—a show of vibrancy and history in an otherwise pretty modernized city. Just down the block is The Four Seasons Hotel, Einstein Bagels, and Starbucks—three examples of just how much Atlanta (and the world!) has changed in the past few decades. We need places like “Bobby & June’s” to remind us of what was there before.
Our Spring Sale Has Started
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Our Spring Sale Has Started
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Our Spring Sale Has Started
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Our Spring Sale Has Started
You can see how this popup was set up in our step-by-step guide: https://wppopupmaker.com/guides/auto-opening-announcement-popups/
Our Spring Sale Has Started
You can see how this popup was set up in our step-by-step guide: https://wppopupmaker.com/guides/auto-opening-announcement-popups/
Our Spring Sale Has Started
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