Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Conversations Overheard at Work

And once again, we bring you, Conversations Overheard at Work! For those just tuning in, this is a segment in which I collect snippets heard around the office at my book publisher. This time, in addition to eavesdropping on the editors and designers who work on cookbooks, I've included a couple of gems from our lifestyles department. See if you can guess who is who!

"I feel like I want some more croutons. Yes. Definitely more croutons."

"I would totally pepper that."

"She eats snails from her own garden? Sounds . . . earthy."

"Yes, we definitely have soup. I think they might owe us chicken. They gave us soup, they owe us chicken. No, I know. I'll be really upset if they still owe us chicken."

"What sounds more salad-y? Duck Breast with Winter Greens, or Winter Greens with Duck Breast? I mean, I realize this is a bit nebulous."

"Braised leeks, absolutely not. A leek gratin? Yes. That's totally different."

"Does wheatgrass-carrot elixir need to be hyphenated?"

"Roger, how was the sex party?"

"Well, what does 'newlywed' mean? A heterosexual couple standing side by side rolling out dough together?"

"Baklava?! See, this is just completely arbitrary."

"Well, I suggested a watermelon, feta, and mint salad, but I know, watermelon salads are so overdone."

"Schnitzel is kind of hot right now. Wait, do I mean schnitzel? Oh right. Spaetzle. Spaetzle is super hot right now."

"The author is this big Christmas expert, so it would be great if we put him in touch with marketing."

"She's also concerned about the starchy gratins. Well, no. She's concerned about all of the gratins."

"Let's beef it up. Literally."

Editor: "Legos are so hot right now, it's ridiculous."
Marketing: "A lot of those pieces are from the Harry Potter set. [Long pause.] Don't ask me how I know that."

Saturday, January 7, 2012

The Challenge: Sandwiches for Saturdays

You know what's really good? Like, really, really good? A sandwich from Lucca delicatessen.



















What's that you say? You're trying to eat more grains and veggies in the new year? Don't be an epic idiot. It's nearly 70 degrees outside, and it's Saturday. Go get yourself a salami (or mortadella! or prosciutto!) sandwich and go the park.

You're welcome.

The Challenge, of course, is what brings me to Lucca. I had never been before, and was a wee bit confused. You grab a number, easy enough. But then . . . no sandwich menu to be seen. You start to panic, due to overexposure to exciting cured meats, cheeses, and Italian pantry goods. "You pick one meat, and one cheese," the man explains. "No veggies. Mayo and mustard on the side." I went with salami and provolone, on tomato focaccia. The focaccia was a terrifically good call.

Nap to follow. Over and out.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

How a $7 Turkey Can Feed You for 3 Weeks

So my boyfriend is British. Have I not mentioned that? Really? I tend to mention that.

And because he is British, he a.) loves roast dinners, but b.) is skeptical of the validity of Thanksgiving as a holiday. In the absence of Thanksgiving feasting, his family across the pond takes the opportunity to roast a turkey on New Year's day. It's only their second big roast of the year, you see, and they're entitled as much as the rest of us. So now Stephen and I have gotten into the habit of roasting our own New Year's turkey.

I know what you're thinking: three massive roast dinners in one holiday season passed decadent a long while ago on the road to gluttony. But the thing is, when Stephen and I were shopping one fateful New Year's eve, we discovered something magical. Turkeys go on sale after Christmas! They do! They're really cheap! It's almost like people get sick of them after eating them twice within a month! And we gleefully went home with a 14-pound turkey in our arms, only seven dollars (seven dollars!) poorer, laughing at all of the people who foolishly cooked new things to ring in the new year.

We called around a bit to see if any friends wanted to come over for our last-minute feast, but everyone was predictably busy with their own New Year's plans. The following year, we dispensed with such excuses. Let's be honest--we didn't want to share the bacon-wrapped sausages anyways, and as it turns out, having a massive amount of leftover turkey is kind of awesome.

And now, we present you with a menu plan for enjoying a seven-dollar turkey* throughout the month of January:

January 1: Roast turkey dinner, with stuffing, potatoes, gravy, Brussels sprouts, bacon-wrapped sausages, what have you.

January 2: Leftover roast dinner (don't mess with a good thing).

January 3: Back-to-work turkey and stuffing sandwiches.

January 4: Take a few days off. Strip the carcass, and freeze servings of white meat and dark meat. Simmer the bones to make stock. Eat some salads/smoothies/sushi. Go on some guilt-ridden jogs. Curse the day you ever met a bacon-wrapped sausage.

January 8: Turkey soup with wild rice and ginger.

January 11: Turkey-walnut salad wraps. (I'm partial to alfalfa sprouts, here.)

January 15: Turkey and wild mushroom pot pie with puff pastry crust.

January 22: Shrimp, andouille, and turkey jambalaya.

January 29: Madras turkey curry. ("Turkey curry buffet!" Just imagine Mark Darcy wearing a terrible Christmas sweater.)

And this is just the beginning! There are so many things you can do with turkey!

*In the interest of full disclosure, I grudgingly admit that this year's turkey did not cost seven dollars. He came from Whole Foods, and so far as I can tell, Whole Foods is allergic to sales, turkey or otherwise. But the original New Year's turkey of yore really did cost seven dollars! And I'm not going to let scruples about accuracy stand between me and a good theme. I'm an English major, and we can get away with this sort of thing.