I’ve been eyeing the Chicken & Dumplings recipe since I bought this cookbook. Who doesn’t love chicken and dumplings?! Gwyneth promises right away it’s the “homiest” dish in the book, so I saved it for an especially cold day. My main apprehension was that the first step is to cut apart a whole chicken, something I have never attempted. But, if Gwyneth has already convinced me to kill things, cutting apart something dead should be no problem, right? Continue reading
I don’t know what happened to me this weekend, but something deep, dark, and ugly stirred and I woke up one morning knowing one thing with a truer certainty than anything I had ever known: I had to cook more Gwyneth Paltrow recipes. I actually missed it! I think I have brain cancer.
So Sunday morning I strapped on my most waterproof boots, to better trudge through the horrifically blackened, disgusting piles of what was once Nemo’s snow, and headed out the door. The plan was to make Hot Niçoise Salad. “One cold wintery day in London, I was dreaming about salad niçoise,” Gwyneth introduces the recipe, because of course. “It didn’t seem right to be eating something so crispy and chilly in the dead of winter, so I devised this hot version.” The ingredients listed were pretty straightforward, it was a cold wintery day in New York City, and I have already attempted her cold niçoise salad, so I brimmed with confidence.
Hey, guys! I’m back! Again! Sorry for the extremely long absences, but this site is simply a hobby for me, so it frequently has to take a backseat to more profitable ventures. (In that spirit, I will have a few things happening in the upcoming months that will give you MORE DANNY, if that’s what you’re desperate for. And if that is what you’re desperate for, then maybe you should talk to someone about that?) Anyway, let’s see how many recipes I can bang out before I disappear for 4 months again, right? Today’s post encompasses a whopping four recipes (actually, there’s a surprise fifth), and as a sign of good faith, let me tell you that I’m typing this as a pot simmers away on the stove in preparation of my next recipe. So there will be more in the near future, I guarantee it. Here’s a sneak preview: Continue reading
Obviously, the main point of Easter is brunch. Right? That’s what the big deal about Easter is? And what better way to celebrate the day Jesus drove all the rabbits out of Scotland than to cook some Gwyneth Paltrow brunch recipes!
I invited somewhere between four and fifteen friends to my place for Easter morning for a totally Gwyneth brunch, so I knew there could be no fucking this up. THE EYES OF THE WORLD WERE UPON ME. The brunch was scheduled at 1 (we tend to be a lazy group), but I had to get started at 8 am. What else would you expect from Gwyneth? As a result, I excused myself relatively early on Saturday night and set my alarm. Yes, this brunch was serious business. Continue reading
Oh boy, have I fallen behind on blogging. But not cooking! Fear not! So let’s do some catch-up. I made a big meal on Saturday for friends, but that’s going to be a much longer, more-involved post, so in the meantime, let’s just get Turkey BLTs out of the way.
Really, this recipe is a perfect example of the idiocy of this cookbook. What is this nonsense? Why is it in a cookbook? Do people really not know how to make BLTs and they need Gwyneth Paltrow to tell them? The recipe for a BLT is almost literally the entire name of the sandwich. Tell any halfwit “please make me a turkey BLT” and you will get a rough approximation of this recipe. Here’s what I mean: Continue reading
It’s Valentine’s Day, and what’s the most important thing on Valentine’s Day? Say it with me: Being thin! That’s right, very good. So last night I made Spaghetti LimoneParmeggiano, which is a fancy way to say noodles with lemon juice! GREAT! It’s basically like eating NOTHING, so now today I’m starving and miserable and VERY thin, which everyone knows is better than being happy.
(I should also point out the elephant in the room: We’ve passed the 9-month deadline I set for myself. WHOOPS. Looks like I failed. If that bothers you, you’re free to find another blog where they’re cooking all of Gwyneth Paltrow’s recipes for no reason. BEST OF LUCK TO YOU. Missed deadline aside, I won’t stop cooking, because I will not be satisfied until I’ve completed all these recipes or we’re all dead. Whichever comes first, although I think the latter might actually be preferable. My move to New York has obviously derailed things, but I’ll keep trucking along, for the two of you who are still reading and aren’t my parents. Anyway, let’s DO THIS.) Continue reading
I don’t know what happened to me the night before — some drink combination, or a particularly handsome man looking at me in a certain way — but I woke up last Sunday with nerves of steel. I could do anything, I suddenly realized. Why hadn’t I ever seen it before? Buoyed by this superlative confidence, I sent out a text to a few choice friends: “In search of duck bacon today. If I succeed, we will have dinner. Wish me luck.” And I ventured out into Brooklyn.
It’s laughable how easy it was. I should have known. It shouldn’t have surprised me that duck bacon in Brooklyn is literally sold on the sidewalk. But, there it was, in the heart of the paltriest, most pitiable farmer’s market I’ve ever seen. Six tents, crammed on the length of one sidewalk, offering very little in produce (no duh, it’s January in New York, but STILL. Very depressing). I walked up and down the block twice, looking for the duck salesman the internet had said might be there, before I finally saw why I hadn’t seen him the first two times: he was just some dude, youngish with a hipster beard, sitting atop a cooler, behind a hand-painted sign that simply said, “DUCKS.” Continue reading