a bean counter's food blog
A few months back, I posted a recipe for Three Bean chili. It’s a straightforward, tasty recipe that can be cooked in a crockpot.
I just got wind that this recipe is featured in the January/February 2013 issue of Epicurean Charlotte Magazine. Cool beans, no?!
Recently, Keia Mastrianni of Charlotte’s Creative Loafing magazine asked me how I define the word “foodie.” Admittedly, I was a little frazzled by the question. Define foodie?! Let me counts the ways… For me, “foodie” is all encompassing. It’s me. It’s my world. It’s my everything.
Check out Keia’s article below, or click here to view a PDF version.
Update: the article is also posted to the creative loafing website.
If you’re like me, each morning when you sit down at your desk and open up your inbox you secretly hope to see one of THOSE emails. They come with subjects like “Goodies in the kitchen!” or “Get it while it’s hot!” or simply “DOUGHNUTS.” These are glorious emails: ones that don’t result in agitation or stress or silent shaking of an angry fist at the monitor. These emails confirm your department has, in fact, employed an angel, and the treats–be they muffins, homemade cookies, or (if you’re really lucky) the GOOD bagels–turn what might otherwise be a monotonous beginning to the daily grind into a full out PARTAYYY.
OK, maybe not a partayyy, per se, but they definitely make everyone a lot more smiley throughout the day.
Today, we got one of these very emails letting us know there were “rugelachs” in the library for our eating pleasure. Rugelachs? The library?! Yes, we have a library chock full of old tax filings and millions of pages of decaying tax code and free rugelachs. My first though was, rugelach? What the heck is that? I pounced from my desk to the library, camera in hand, all the while asking myself–what is a rugelach?!
In retrospect, it’s kind of shocking. I mean, I’d heard of Nutella and seen a commercial or two, but I couldn’t wrap my mind around slathering chocolate on bread. Don’t get me wrong, I love chocolate and I can eat my weight in baguettes, no problem, but a chocolate sandwich just seemed gross and, frankly, un-American. To me, eating such an insane combination felt like cheating on good ole peanut butter and jelly. When I confessed my big secret–that I’d never EVER tried Nutella–my friend Vanessa, appalled and concerned, bestowed upon me a tub of Nutella the size of a baby walrus.
That day, I had my first Nutella experience: baked stuffed bananas loaded with peanut butter, chocolate chips, and a dollop of Nutella. It only took one bite to realize I’d been robbing myself of intense palate pleasure for the better part of three decades. Since that moment, I’ve been making up for lost time and searching for things to slather with the unworldly chocolate hazelnut spread. For the record, I checked the ingredients list and chocolate-candy-crack isn’t listed—just hazelnuts, skim milk, sugar, and cocoa. Nutella doesn’t even have artificial flavors or preservatives.
It tastes too good to be true.
Pizza is one of few foods for which I will risk third degree burns of both the mouth and esophagus. As soon as I open the box and locate the slice with the most ample crust, I’ve got it dangling above my mouth, scalding cheese be damned. The crust is by far my favorite part, and it alone can make or break a pizza. I cannot fathom why some people think of the crust as merely a handle used to transport the pizza to their mouths, ceasing to eat once they reach that sweet spot where sauce and cheese meets bready bliss.
Pizza delivered to your door is one of life’s simplest pleasures, but leftover pizza can leave a lot to be desired. There’s always the option of eating the leftovers for breakfast, cold and straight from the box, but I crave the smells and textures of a freshly delivered pie. When years of college dorm living taught me that microwaves turn pizza crusts to rubber, I found my solution in the oven.