- Jalapeno Pickle Brined Fried Chicken (with ranch. duh, this is America)
- Blue Cheese Potato Salad w/ Bacon and Scallion
- Beergarita Popsicles with Smoky Chile Salt
- Tomato and Peach salad with Basil and Red Onion
- Strawberry Icebox Cake
We could not be more excited to reveal the new Dinner was Delicious to you perfect angel biscuits. It’s come a long way since our 2011 default tumblr theme, and we can’t wait for you guys to settle in to our new, cozy home.
So what’s new? For starters, there’s a tidy (sexy) index where you can search, browse, and get inspired to make dinner.
The recipes themselves are way easier to read, copy/paste, and share.
We can make jokes about the “back end,” when we make site updates (e.g. “Hey, Luce, can you stick those photos in the back-end?” hehehe)
Comments! You can wantonly share your opinion on peanut butter blossoms, and tell us how smart and pretty we are w h e n e v e r y o u w a n t . We’ll be able to connect with you guys in a meaningful way (other than grams and tweets)– and answer recipe questions, too!
And. It’s lovely. So lovely. It feels so good on our eyes (and hopefully yours, too).
Of course. You can’t make shit look this good on your own. So big, fat, garlicky kisses and thanks:
It’s nutrient-dense, easy to prepare, and has just enough funk to make sure we know we’re eating something really special.
But lamb gets a bad rap. It’s seen as a fancy, holiday meal. Something expensive and out of reach for everyday eats. There’s also the cute-food-factor. Just like rabbit and duck, it can seem mean to eat something so damn adorable. Those dirty lies keep it off our week-day table and it’s a damn shame. Not only can lamb be affordable (if you know the cuts to get)– it’s also one of the kindest meats to eat, even when you buy it on the cheap….
There’s a lot of stuff we hope you take away from reading this blog. Little things like making sure you eat (so you don’t turn into a cunt). Jokey stuff about not eating dairy on Valentine’s Day (which is actually very sound advice). Even bigger preachy shit about maaaybe giving yourself a break and NOT viewing weightloss as the pinnacle of being a successful human.
But the biggest thing we hope you remember after reading my dumb little words and looking at Lucy’s photos: food doesn’t have to be fancy to be delicious. Nothing tastes better than getting out of the way of tasty ingredients. And, right now, our ingredient of choice is strawberries.
We’re hella sprung on spring– and on all of the amazing produce we scored at our first farmer’s market of the season. Searching for snacks (like usual), we brought home impossibly sexy French breakfast radishes, fat fava beans still in their shell, and crusty bread from La Boulangerie. They needed nothing. –Ok. That’s a lie. They needed butter, salt and pepper, and a glass of something pink and bubbly.
This buttery, light fava smash is better than hummus (but what isn’t), and more seasonally appropriate. Swap olive oil for a peppery, vegan sub and use it to replace that boring chickpea paste. Dip it, stuff it, spread it– there’s no wrong way to get it in your face.
I know last week we were all sappy and sentimental about books being our first boyfriend but. tbh. That was a lie to make us sound smart. Our first bf was really cheese.
Cheese is the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to us. Better than boys, professional successes, our cats, or summer lake house weekends. And a cheese plate is the perfect low-effort, make in advance, impressive-but-accessible appetizer we all need to look like dinner party heros.
A lot of cheese plates come in threesomes– the classic trio is something runny, something firm, and something funky (like a blue)– but we think there’s magic in sticking with just one perfect piece of queso. It helps you manage your budget and gives you a chance to celebrate a single, perfect cheese. You get to know its nuances and can really customize a few thoughtful accessories (like crackers and spreads) to bring out its best qualities. But, being myopically-minded means you only get one shot for cheese perfection– and there’s no way to hide a lackluster selection. You have to put your best fromage forward, and that means flirting with your cheesemonger.
Books were our first boyfriends and, to this day, remain our truest love.
As bored youths surrounded by corn, books were the escape route. They were a free ride from sleepy midwestern towns to places that were big enough hold our personalities and inspire something beyond our freckled, skinned-knee existence. They fed our imagination, giving us dumb ideas like “move to the big city” and “you can do more with your life than be a waitress at Pizza Hut” – and they went oh-so-well with an after-school snack. As grown-ass women, even though food takes up most of our mental space, books are still our favorite form of self-care. Especially when cozied up to a big-ass plate of cookies.
Tomorrow (May 2nd) is Independent Bookstore Day and it might be our new favorite holiday. My (Rachel’s) husband owns Uncharted Books, a used bookstore here in Logan Square. He asked us to make snacks for their day of amazing events– and we immediately knew what we’d make.
Spaghetti Squash does not need your baggage. It is not here to be your therapist, or surrogate lover now that you’ve ixnay’d all carb and grain. Spaghetti Squash is a strong, independent woman and can make it on her own.
Spaghetti Squash is not better than spaghetti, because Spaghetti Squash just… isn’t… spaghetti. It’s a vegetable. And it’s a delicious vegetable all by itself. You can drown it in tomato sauce, finagle it into pad thai, and it will predictably be damn fucking tasty– but why not let its own virtues shine. Spaghetti Squash is a study in contrasts. It’s sweet and savory, creamy and crunchy. It’s weird-but-good, straight out of its roasted skin.
n case y’all haven’t noticed: we like to eat. And, when we don’t get fed, we go from zero to I-will-eat-your-soul real fast.
Hangry was OK when we were in college, but as adults, it ain’t cute. Hanger has ruined dates and meetings– and maaaybe could have been the motivation behind one or two (hundred) strongly worded emails to customer service representatives. Maybe.
We deserve better. The poor souls dealing with the brunt of our food rage deserve better. In an effort to make our lives and the world a bit of a less grump’ed upon place, we started to carry snacks. Everywhere.
Cauliflower is one of the most magical vegetables we know. It’s a work horse, standing up to whatever weird contortionist acts low-carbers, vegans, and paleos throw at it. One day it’s rice, the next it’s an analogue for buffalo chicken. We read a recipe the other day where someone used it to make fucking brownies. For all that hard work, cauliflower deserves a long, decidedly straightforward, culinary nap. Preferably one under velvety blanket of gruyere spiked bechamel.