A Muse Bouche: Pesto Festivo

Alissa & Chris for Oscar night in Saint James, NY in February 2017.

Inspiration comes in so many forms, especially when considering what to write. For Kissing Cooks, my mind (and heart, of course) is surging with ideas about how Chris and I can spend our time together—mostly for when we’re in the kitchen right now because it’s still winter here on Long Island and outdoor activities are a bit limited (though hopefully not for long). For us, the cooking routine and dynamics are interesting and new to explore because neither of us have ever had such kitchen chemistry with past partners, nor was the frequency and desire as excitedly present as we’re discovering. This is only further driving how we swap our inspirations, especially about all things creative, beyond shared cuisine too.

Alissa & Chris meeting Clinton Kelly at the Book Revue in Huntington, NY in January 2017.

Let’s get back to the food… Last week, I was watching an episode of The Chew, absorbing all the food information I could (like a student who dutifully attends a lecture—I’m no longer in school, which prompts me to seek education in any form I possibly can. My mind is always hungry for knowledge.). This is when I came across a seemingly straightforward and fast recipe for arugula pesto farfalle with chicken, presented by cohost Clinton Kelly (someone with whom I have greatly admired for a long time when it comes to fashion, food, and words). Clinton Kelly has already had somewhat of an influence on my relationship with Chris (see our About page for those adorable details), which made me all the more eager to explore how Chris and I could adopt this recipe as our own gluten free version.

Before I get into the who-did-whats of our food preparation, I’d like to address the fact that the title of this post is “A Muse Bouche: Pesto Festivo.” I pride myself as someone who appreciates language, both foreign and domestic. This title is not only a mix of French and Italian (two languages that have largely impacted my life in how I look at the world, write, dress, and decorate my apartment), but also admittedly, it’s misleading. An “amuse bouche” literally translates in French as a “mouth amuser” (as per Wikipedia), which is typically served in bite-sized form, like an hors d’oeuvre. While our mouths are thoroughly amused by everything having to do with kissing, food, and conversation, there’s nothing about this particular pesto-centric meal that qualifies it as a true amuse bouche. I’m clarifying to ward off anyone reading who has identified any misrepresentation of this appetizer course, which dates back to the 1960s. If further argument is needed, may I refer you to the first paragraph about how Chris and I are each other’s muses. And yes, wordplay is always invited to dinner!

heart-flags

Secondly, “festivo” is Italian for “holiday.” My relationship with Chris began right smack in the middle of the end-of-the-year holiday season, and this has only been amplified by the fact that the decadence of awards season (movies, television, and music) also feels like a celebration. We’re such movie nerds that preparing for Oscar night felt like getting ready for a holiday in itself. In total, we saw three of the Best Picture nominees together (La La Land, Arrival, and Lion), and two individually (Chris: Hell or High Water and Alissa: Hidden Figures).

Alissa & Chris with Mr. Oscar himself (in mere poster form) while at the movies in Stony Brook, NY in February 2017.

So… Chris and I made plans to watch the Academy Awards together, as a time-friendly meal was on the horizon for last Sunday night, especially since I’d be at work for most of the day and couldn’t meal prep like I usually preferred to do. That, in combination with the fact that I love pesto (a consequence of savoring much of it in many different green forms during my time studying and writing in Florence), readied me for the challenge to switch farfalle out for brown rice fusilli (Tinkyada—I couldn’t find any gluten free farfalle at my local Stop and Shop), chicken thighs for grilled chicken strips (Perdue Short Cuts), and leave out the golden raisins all together (though I’m not opposed to using them in the future).

When I moved into my first apartment, my parents very generously gifted me tons of used and small kitchen necessities and appliances that were perfect for just such a bachelorette who wasn’t always so food-savvy (not that I really am now, but I’ve come a long way, if I may say so myself). Among these appreciated donations was a small 1.5 cup-size food processor (Kitchen Gourmet) that was stored and ignored for well over three years in my cabinet. Whenever I looked at it, I heard the whispered word “pesto” in the air, like the ghost of Christmas past was lurking in the shadows of my stacks of Cheerios boxes, haunting and taunting me to take on the challenge. Making fresh pesto never really seemed impossible; it was just never terribly urgent for me to explore, what with balancing two jobs, grad school, finances, an ever-changing personal life, and the need for sleep. That is, until now.

When Clinton Kelly (yes, I’m always going to use his first and last name, though we’ve met and hugged and shared some memorable laughs) whipped up his meal in mere minutes, I was determined to produce just such an effortless dinner for Chris and I to enjoy before the big night. Because my food processor is so small, it took a few more steps than I anticipated for the arugula pesto to come together. This entailed emptying out the grated Parmesan, walnuts (Diamond), garlic, and arugula from the bowl and refilling it with another round of the same unpulsed ingredients. Then I emptied that second mixture into the first batch so that the pesto could form with extra virgin olive oil in all of its gastronomic green glory.

Chris kept a watchful eye on the fusilli as we microwaved the chicken (time was an issue since there was also some red carpet watching and cleaning up to do before the ceremony started), while serving up some Riesling (RELAX, a new favorite of ours). Once all was ready, I spooned some pesto into our bowls first (as per Clinton Kelly’s instructions), followed by our pasta. We mixed the multi colored fusilli until all of its corners and curls were covered in the peppery arugula mixture, followed by the strips of hot chicken and topping it all off with dollops of part skim ricotta. There’s no such thing as too much cheese for the Kissing Cooks.

I needn’t capture how the rest of the night went. If you saw the Oscars, then you know. However, our pesto dish was a tasty success. No envelope mix up could deny that victory. Congratulations to all the nominees who worked so hard to present relevant and moving stories on the silver screen to audiences across the world, and inspiring Chris and I to learn more movie trivia along the way. The highly praised modern-day musical La La Land is a particularly special film for us; it was the first movie we saw in theaters (on our 15th date—who’s counting?—just two days after attending a meet and greet with Clinton Kelly who was promoting his essay collection, I Hate Everyone Except You). In addition, the film’s signature love ballad “City of Stars” performed by Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone was the first song we slow danced to (actually in the movie theater during the end credits—Chris’ idea!). The soundtrack and score to the movie is also often playing during our at-home meals, lending its magical musing to every step of our romance.

Alissa & Chris rehearsing their Kissing Cooks ways before seeing La La Land in Farmingdale, NY in January 2017.

For dessert, we each indulged in some vanilla frozen yogurt (Target’s ever-reliable Market Pantry brand) topped with chocolate syrup, dark chocolate sprinkles, mini chocolate chips (Nestlé), whipped cream, and maraschino cherries. Overall, it was an utterly enjoyable night of cooking, cleaning, couture, cuddling, commentary, and cinema. We couldn’t ask for more!

As always… stay kissing and stay cooking.

Smoochburgers

I know, I know, we’re getting really silly with the titles of our posts, but this title is perfect to describe what Alissa and I made this week: turkey burgers!

While most of the things Alissa and I cook together are new adventures, I have previously cooked turkey burgers from scratch. If I’m being honest, I should say that my turkey burger was more like a slightly flatter meatball, but it fit on a bun, and that’s what qualifies it as a burger!

Also, let’s not dance around the elephant in the room. His name is Peanut and he’s jealous that people are dancing while he’s never danced before. He saw Dirty Dancing and dreams of Patrick Swayze holding him above his head. The other, more metaphorical, less fictionalized elephant in the room is that for 14 years, I worked for a very popular quick service restaurant that served burgers. But that wasn’t my first foray into food service. While Alissa has worked in both fashion and writing since she was 16, I was concurrently working in the food service industry from 1998 to 2015.

Please indulge me while I sidetrack for a moment. It all started when I was 13 and was told, “Young man, go to work.” Having so few options, I tried to find a job somewhere between school and home. There’s a particular shopping center in Bellmore, NY that, in 1998, featured a Party City, strip club, Chinese food restaurant, pizzeria, and video game store, in that order. I went door-to-door applying for a job, first at Party City, skipping the strip club, and secondly, the Chinese food restaurant. I never made it to the pizzeria because the small Chinese take-out place just had to have me. I was being paid six dollars an hour to answer the phone, take orders, and daydream. While that job didn’t last very long, three years later, I would apply for what would be my longest job to date.

If you know me, you already know that for 14 years I went to work with an M on my chest. No, I was not Muperman. I worked at McDonald’s and during my time there, I must have wrapped thousands and thousands of burgers. None of those burgers were turkey burgers, nor were they smoochburgers.

Hopefully that brought everyone up to speed. Though I’m not an amateur to burger making, I’ve only made turkey burgers at home a handful of times. It used to be a staple of mine when I ate at diners more frequently (be ready for a post where I gush about the many diners of Long Island). On our fifth date, which happened to be at Dave and Buster’s, Alissa admitted that she had never eaten a turkey burger. This was just absurd to me! She nearly ordered one since it was on the menu, but I stopped her post haste, insisting that I would make a turkey burger for her, some day.

Well, this past Wednesday was that day. It was nearly two months later, but I came through on my promise to make her a turkey burger.

Alissa came over to my apartment and I proceeded to wow her with my cooking skills (as I often do). I did amazing things like preheat the oven, lay frozen French fries on a cookie sheet, and set a timer. With these fries, you’re supposed to flip them halfway through. Once flipped, I gave them a liberal shake of salt. Nothing makes a good fry like salt.

The turkey burger was made with Jennie-O lean turkey meat, 4C gluten free breadcrumbs, and some onion powder. Once I mixed it all up and smushed them into burger patty size, I sprayed the heated pan, placed the burger patties, and let them sit for about five minutes. I then flipped the burgers and started to put together the other burger necessities.

On a plate, I set up a stylish setting of Swiss cheese, sliced tomato, leaves of lettuce, and Schar gluten free buns. Alissa and I enjoy Swiss cheese in or on most things, whether it’s a turkey burger, omelet, or grilled cheese.

Once the burger accoutrements were set, Alissa and I contemplated the vegetable side for the burger and fries. Given the option of frozen broccoli or salad, we chose to have salad since we had all the necessary ingredients. I chopped the head of lettuce, cut the rest of the tomato, and shredded the carrots on top. I added a generous sprinkling of mozzarella cheese to finish it off. This is where it gets interesting.

Alissa asked, “What kind of salad dressing do you have?”

To which, I answered, “Oh.” I didn’t have any salad dressing. I didn’t even have olive oil or vinegar. We scoured my fridge and cabinets to find something that we could combine into some sort of dressing.

Alissa asked, “Do you have mayo?”

“How about Chipotle Mayo?” I responded.

“No, that won’t do. Had you regular mayo, we could have added ketchup to make some kind of dressing.”

It was at this point that I told Alissa that I had I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and she asked if I had grated cheese. Of course I did! I even had garlic enhanced grated Parmesan cheese by Mama Francesca. In a small bowl, I mixed about two tablespoons of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and a few dashes of the garlic Parmesan cheese. I whisked it all together and then drizzled it on the salad. It tasted great! We called it: “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Salad Dressing.”

Once we sat down, Alissa and I dug in, though Alissa did so in her own dainty way. Alissa ate her French fries with a fork, dipping each fry in ketchup before bringing to her lips.

After dinner, we took a short drive to Carvel, where Alissa ordered a vanilla / chocolate swirl sundae and I ordered a mint one. We brought it back to my house and ate our ice cream while discussing what we were going to watch that night. It was too late by the time we finished our ice cream, though there are now a few movies on the docket.

It was a great Wednesday night, complete with a delicious meal, delectable desserts, fantastic company, and engaging conversations. Thanks for reading through a bit of our history and we hope you enjoyed learning a bit about us.

As always… stay kissing and stay cooking.

No cows were harmed in the making of this dinner. The picture above is of Alissa & Chris at Stew Leonard’s of Farmingdale in February 2017. This cow’s name is Clover & he’s a big fan of Kissing Cooks!

 

Zuppa di Amore

Indulgent.

Comforting.

Soothing.

Satisfying.

Healthy.

Delicious.

Joyful.

These are just some of the words that describe all the feels of food. Wouldn’t you know… the same adjectives apply to love too! Yeah, the love stuff is still on the brain—we are the Kissing Cooks, after all—so, it’s pretty important (and totes obvs) for us to share that every kitchen encounter (whether it be breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack, or dessert) derives from a place of love. That’s perhaps the most precious ingredient that makes the process and finale all the more valuable with loved ones.

After last week’s adventure in gluten free lasagna, Chris and I decided to kick off our romantic Valentine’s weekend with what’s definitely the ultimate winter go-to meal: soup. Even though the weather here on Long Island has been more like spring in February than actual winter in February, after a long week of work and life, some soup making was definitely in order. Not only did we simmer up a creamy chicken and vegetable soup, but we paired the creation with soup’s best partner in culinary crime: grilled cheese.

However, when I write “Chris and I” regarding the let’s-make-soup idea, I should clarify that it was my stubborn determination that decided the fate of his leftover rotisserie lunch chicken that was stowed away in my fridge for a few days. When I get an idea in my head, especially when it comes to food, I must see it through. The same applies for an outfit combination too, but that belongs in a totally different blog (like Style Darling Daily).

I previously bought a bag of carrots, which came in very useful for a variety of past dinners, including side salads that Chris and I shared prior to the birth of Kissing Cooks. I was beginning to suspect that the fresh carrots were approaching their expiration, so I knew they’d be essential, and we’d be oh-so responsible grocery shopping adults, for this particular dish. It was a most exciting prospect at effective decision making (for me at least).

Alissa & Chris at Ragazzi in Lake Grove, NY in February 2017.

When all of our delicious ingredients were finally on hand (and the “hello” and “I’m so happy to see you” kisses were emphatically exchanged), the cooking began. Chris and I referenced this recipe, reducing our serving size in half, although we also omitted peas (Chris doesn’t like them—sad face) and noodles since our dish was accompanied by grilled cheese (Did you know that angels sing every time a grilled cheese is made?). This included our favorite whole grain gluten free bread (Udi’s) with thin-sliced Swiss cheese (Sargento) and turkey bacon (Oscar Mayer). For the bolder grilled cheese lovers, it should be noted that my sandwich included a slice of tomato and a dash of oregano because that’s how grilled cheese consumption was taught to me when I was growing up (it must be a north shore thing). For the soup, we used the entire container of mirepoix (that’s a fancy way of referring to carrots, onions, and celery) with plenty more carrots since I had the aforementioned extras available. Chris handled shredding the chicken, separating every last flavorful strip of protein to our already simmering, aromatic mixture of low-sodium chicken broth (College Inn), vegetables, freshly minced garlic (I even watched a YouTube video on how to do this because it was my first time not using the jar stuff), gluten free flour (Pillsbury), 1% milk, unsalted butter, and spices.

The warm soupy goodness thickened beautifully, especially as we giggled between more kisses and gasped at the sight of the melting Swiss cheese (and blackened-ish bread—sorry honey, I had to be truthful). Making the soup alone was a pretty efficient task though, only using a few handy pots and pans—that is, until the grilled cheese part happened and the cleanup seemed almost never ending (to no one’s fault, really). I’m certainly not going to crank on about doing the dishes (because nobody likes a whiner—though everybody likes a wino—wink wink) when a delightfully nourishing meal was the cause. Oh hello there segue… I should add that no meal is complete without a companion beverage, and this night was made all the more decadent and tasty with a bottle of crisp, sweet Riesling (Relax), a brand name true to its end-of-the-night-yielding state of mind.

One of my favorite parts of the night (as usual), and most cooking nights with Chris, is the charmingly pleasant conversation that we shared, dually feeding our hearts and minds. We discussed our brunch and shopping plans for the next two days, as well as times to see Lion (so many tears and sniffles, but worth the mascara streams down my face) and reservations for our fancy post-Valentine’s Day dinner out (at Ragazzi in Lake Grove [an Italian kitchen and bar], where there’s an abundance of gluten free menu items served daily).

Following our washing-drying duet at the sink, we contained the two generous leftover servings of soup for further consumption later in the week and finished off the rest of the wine, all before cuddling up on the couch and calling it a night of soup success. We definitely learned a lot about the balancing act that is cooking, relishing in every moment of its gluten free ecstasy.

As for next time, we have big turkey burger plans that’ll certainly make the cut of posts on Kissing Cooks. Thank you so much for taking the time to support our latest installment.

As always… stay kissing and stay cooking.

A Night of Firsts

It was a night of firsts. 

I have to start this post out with that absolute and ominous line because it sounds very Dickensian. When fashion and food aren’t on my mind, it’s all about the books. After all, Charlie is my literary boss hero, and I’m in the middle of reading (or rather, lavishing in) David Copperfield. That’s just a little bit about me as we get to know each other! However, I digress… I don’t want readers to be mistaken that this is a nerdy literary blog, especially when our name is Kissing Cooks. This is a nerdy cooking blog, we promise. Keep reading for some food dish. (Warning #1: Puns exist here.)

So, it was a night of firsts. Tuesday, February 14, 2017 was the first night that Chris and I made lasagna together and ever; individually, it just never happened for either of us, though we can easily lose count at the number of homemade lasagna dinners that we’ve had with family and other fine dining companions over the course of our thirty plus years on Long Island, where the notions of making and having lasagna are as present as our accents. 

Additionally, this post marks the first written installment on Kissing Cooks, which is the first joint project Chris and I are sharing in our young, exciting relationship. Also, we’ve celebrated our first Valentine’s Day together this week, which was every bit the romantic and fun experience any couple could hope for. (Warning #2 [specifically to anyone whose appetite for sentimental borders on barely minimal]: We’re a mushy twosome who really dig each other, as evidenced by this inspired social media milestone in our courtship. Please don’t let that deter you from continuing with us on our yummy journey.) 

Perhaps the most challenging aspect of this kitchen-centric experience is the fact that we are a gluten-free couple. Though, I’m a part-time anti-gluten glutton in supportive solidarity with Chris’ healthier dietary needs. However, this first for me is anything but limited when my favorite guy is by my side and we’re going at it, and by that, I mean clanging those pots and pans in cabinets and drawers, preparing as a pair for perfect eats on a somewhat regular basis now. If we weren’t already, we’re totally domesticating each other, what with discussions of kitchen utensil trips to IKEA (handy lists in tow) and how we can incorporate other ingredients into future meals we ogled during our first afternoon browse date through the local Whole Foods Market recently.

Chris & Alissa enjoying brunch at Maureen’s Kitchen in Smithtown, NY in January 2017.

Let’s clear a few things up first. We’re not likely to post actual recipes on here. As much as I love writing about food and feasting my eyes on beautifully photographed, glossy-paged cook books by professional celebrity chefs (Hey Giada de Laurentiis, if you’re reading!), Kissing Cooks is more about inspiring others with our takes on the experience of cooking together, and less about exact formulas for how what we’ve created said dishes. As (let’s be honest) beginner-level home cooks, we love to use recipes found on Pinterest as a reference for whatever our latest meal plan includes. It’s important to mention that Chris and I are not cooking rebels or defying what it takes to create a well-intentioned and delicious recipe, nor do we think that we’re experts in anything involving food. We just love to eat. We love to kiss. And we love food memories. So in order to marry those pleasurable activities, a wordy and picture-heavyish log of our cooking concoctions shall thrive here. What happens in the kitchen certainly won’t stay in the kitchen, at least in our case.

In my own gastronomic quests (specifically baking from the box), I intently read the cardboard container from favorites like Betty Crocker, Pillsbury, and Duncan Hines. Then, after a few trials of chocolate, I’ve tinkered here and there to discover the necessary tweaks for optimal flavor indulgence and well-accessorized presentation, honing my kitchen instincts. Like an outfit a person wears, how one dresses their food and home (like at the kitchen table) help to create more texture and delight for the whole darn memory. Aside from box baking and pantry scavenging, my only other qualifications for just such a project as Kissing Cooks is binging superfluous hours of cooking shows (for example: The Chew, anything Giada does [are you out there, girl?], and more). I’ve studied a wee bit in the world of food (see our About page to get hella jealous of my festive Florentine feats). Most significantly, I have been actually eating food ALL OF MY LIFE (Chris too!)! Not to mention that said lifetime of eating also includes inspiration from my parents whose time in the kitchen while I was growing up has not only taught me the foundations of food preparation and the importance of time spent together at the dinner table, but a lot about how to manage “adulting,” because such a word is a commonplace verb nowadays.

Let’s get back to the lasagna, shall we? As usual, Chris and I co-piloted: he multitasked, managing the foundation to any delectable lasagna dish comprised of pasta (Tinkyada brown rice lasagna noodles), sauce (Prego traditional), and ground turkey (Jennie-O) browning in some extra virgin olive oil. Whereas I prepared a luscious mixture of (the following store brand, budget-friendly ingredients, including) ricotta and mozzarella cheese (both part skim), two large eggs, and all the appropriate seasonings we love like garlic powder, oregano, and parsley (also, this was my first time actually preparing ricotta with a dash of nutmeg—and it was totally worth it, flavor-wise). In between, we maintained with the cleaning-washing-drying dynamic to stay one step ahead when different kitchenware items were no longer needed (a task I take very seriously since my little one-bedroom apartment doesn’t include a dishwasher, aside from my left and right hands). We referenced a helpful recipe from McCormick for bake time and temperature specifics, which worked out perfectly for a hot minute (not literarlly) to clean up a bit more, set the table accordingly, and watch the latest cackle-inducing episode of New Girl, our go-to what-to-do-during-cook-time show.

Once all was baked and rested, we dug into that sucker like pigs searching for truffles… and man, was it good! We didn’t need to prepare any garlic bread or side salad because we just wanted that lasagna—and seconds of that lasagna, to boot! The best part (for me, at least—Chris wasn’t asked his opinion here) is a tie between the actual preparation of the meal and finally getting our butts seated to enjoy it with each other. While he and I could never run out of goofy, thoughtful, or sweet things to say to each other, the precious silence in between each bite and sip of Pinot Grigio (Cupcake Vineyards) meant more to me than any twelve-hundred-plus-word blog could express.

What’s better is that the icing on the cake (or equivalent silver-lining cheesy topping on the dish, again strictly for me) was that there were plenty of leftovers for Chris and me to relive the gorgeousness of flavor and affection for at least two-to-three more meals the following day or so.

We had such a blast. We’re still talking about it, even a day after the fact. We plan on making some version of this meal again for family and friends in the future. I can’t wait to make more lasagna memories with Chris. Also, I’d like to thank our readers (probably close friends and immediate family) for taking the time to share in the development of Kissing Cooks.

As always… stay kissing and stay cooking.