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Showing posts with label fries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fries. Show all posts

What Are Your Weird Food Quirks?

7/4/13
Happy Fourth of July, everyone! I hope that you're all with family at the lake or pool, hot dog and sparkler in hand.

Matt and I might venture to the pool later, but I think for now it's a walk with the dogs before the firecrackers start cracking and perhaps a run to the mall to hit some sales (that one might be a solo effort). We'll be scoping out Springfield for some fun Independence Day activities, too. My guess it that they have a TON of fun things around town; it is, after all, the Land of Lincoln! Until we find an entertaining distraction, though, I'm writing this blog post celebrating Independence Day in the best way I can think of at the moment: drinking coffee in my PJ's with a homemade cherry kolache topped with whipped cream. Ahhhhhh-merica.


Homemade cherry and grape kolaches. Recipe coming soon!



I stumbled upon an interesting article the other day titled "What Are Your Weird Travel Quirks?" from the good folks over at Hello Giggles. In the article, the author talked about her strange, somewhat obsessive travel behaviors, like refusing to walk barefoot on hotel floors and abhorring the idea of touching her head to her airplane seat's head rest. It got me thinking, and try as I might I couldn't really come up with any weird travel quirks. I mean, I'm pretty adventurous when it comes to travel. I don't really have any strange quirks or habits, unless you count my strict adherence to departure times or my amazing ability to fall asleep on command in any location, land, sea, or air.

I do, however, have some pretty weird food quirks. I think we all do. For instance, Matt hates bananas. He won't even touch them. One time, when we had just started dating, he came over and was very hungry. It was mid-morning, so I thought it would be nice to fix him toast topped with peanut butter, a banana, and honey. I noticed after several minutes that it was taking him a while to eat his toast, and after he was about 85% done with it, I asked, "Are you not hungry anymore?" With the saddest, most sincerely sorry eyes, he looked at me and said very quietly, "I really hate bananas." It was the cutest thing I think I've ever seen.

So, to share the weirdness, here are some of my weird food quirks:

1. At Thanksgiving, I am that gross person that mixes all the contents of their plate up into one, nasty slop of American goodness. Yep. That's me. Matt thinks it's disgusting (as does a large chunk of my family), but my rationale is that it'll get mixed up eventually anyway. Besides, it's a flavor/texture adventure!

2. I am a snob when it comes to Mexican food. I am a stickler for Mexican food. Mexico has such a rich food tradition and culture, and I oftentimes feel like it is somewhat muted for American palates. I'm not saying that Americans have bad taste, but we have a way of taking the spice out of ethnic foods. Ladies and gentlemen, case in point, I give you: queso. No, not queso fresco, a soft Mexican cheese, but straight-up queso, which in the American vernacular is "melted nacho cheese." Not Mexican, not authentic, and frankly, not even food. I bet that "queso" is, 99% of the time, a petroleum bi-product pumped out of stadium-grade dispensers in the back of the kitchen. Can you hear me seething over here? Well now you know: I hate queso. Snobby rant over.

3. I have a deep hate for mushrooms. My superpower is that I am able to detect upon just a sniff if mushrooms are in a dish. I hate, hate, hate mushrooms: the taste, the texture, the smell. Blegh. My apologies if you love mushrooms (Matt does, too).

4. Fried food makes me sick. Literally. It's sad, too, because fried food is pretty good sometimes (who can turn down a good french fry?!), but whenever I eat fried food I get really sick a few hours later. I went through a period of time (about four years) when I didn't eat one bite of fried food, and so I think my body lost the ability to process it or something. Or it just knows that I shouldn't be eating it. Either way, a tragedy.

5. Every time I go to a restaurant, I challenge myself to go home and make whatever it is we ordered. I always like to try to recreate good dishes for less right at home. Matt and I have this fun game where, when we sit down at our dinner table, we'll calculate how much each serving of the dish cost and how it would compare with the tab for the same dish at a restaurant. If you want to feel good about staying in, always play that game. It'll pep you up really quick when you know how much you're saving!


What about you guys? Do you have any weird food quirks? Let me know in the comments!

-Betsey

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A Shameless Plug for Springfield, IL

6/18/13
Hey all! Hope everyone's having a great summer so far. (Technically, the first day of summer is this Friday, June 21, but we all know what's up.)

We've been here in Springfield for about two and a half weeks, and things are going pretty well so far (a.k.a. I haven't received my credit card bill yet...let's just say we've been to Target a few times.) To keep you updated on things here at Casa de Heidrick, I figured I'd post something I don't do very often: non-food pictures! So here are some memories from our most recent adventure in downtown Springfield:


Yes, I know it's a trash can. And yes, it was odd and kind of gross that I crouched, face only six inches from the trash can, to get this photo. Eh, I've done weirder things.

The Old State Capitol, where Abe Lincoln was sworn in as a lawyer in the State of Illinois. Isn't it cool how it's just sitting right smack dab in the middle of the city?!


The view of old store fronts, standing on the south steps of the Old State Capitol.

But because it wouldn't be a Betsey blog post if there wasn't food somehow involved, I wanted to share with you a little treat Matt and I encountered later that day: Smash Burger.

Yep. Smash Burger. A burger joint, but not just any burger joint.

Good Lord, why has Nebraska hidden this gem, this Nectar of the Gods, from me for so long? I mean, this burger place isn't like McDonald's, where you basically get two pieces of spongy cork held together by a resurrected frozen burger patty and broken dreams. Smash Burger has legitimate, good-quality ingredients. I was especially jacked about the make-your-own-burger option which included--wait for it--bleu cheese, my FAVORITE! (Well now I wonder what you think of me, taking photos of garbage cans and enjoying moldy cheese.)

Matt and I were floored by the Smash Fries, which are this lovely collection of fried potato-y goodness that includes coarse salt and rosemary. Yes, ROSEMARY! I feel like the simple inclusion of herbs beyond parsley qualifies any restaurant above "fast food joint." And you can choose between the old reliable Russets or sweet potatoes. We predictably chose both.

To all those anti-fries people out there, I say this: Fries fill the cracks in the heart. There is literally no problem in the world that fries can't fix. Except diabetes. Fries cannot fix diabetes.

BEHOLD! And on the fifteenth day in Springfield the Lord said "Thou shall eat Smash Fries." And it was good.
This is what happiness/gluttony looks like.

Do any of you guys out there have Smash Burger in your town? I feel like this is my new Runza, which is a heaven-sent mélange of beef and cabbage bundled together in a oven-warmed, golden bun (another delivery straight from Fast Food Heaven). To all those who aren't from Nebraska, you can read the love poem--I mean blog post--I wrote for Runza here.

Next recipe up...affogato! Go ahead and Google it now...it'll blow your mind. Those Italians think of everything!

Peace and love (but no leftover Smash Fries) to you all! - Betsey

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