Gazpacho!

My mom called me a couple weeks ago and asked if I had a recipe for gazpacho, and I did not! Truth be told, I didn't even know what gazpacho was (but I didn't tell my mom that). I promised to find and send her a recipe. First, I turned to my homegirl Ina, and her recipe looked fantastic. And to give my mom some more options, I also sent along PW's recipe.

And then, all I could think of was gazpacho, which, it turns out, is a cold, tomato-based soup. (But I'm sure everyone else in the world already knew that.) I decided to make it the night Matt and Elisa arrived.
This is the perfect summer meal because it's light but totally satisfying, and (here's the kicker) you don't have to cook anything. It's been like a billion degrees here lately, so when you turn on the stove or the oven, a little part of your soul dies.
So, the thing about gazpacho is that it's made up of tons of finely diced veggies, and if you're not really into chopping veggies, maybe you should use a food processor. I was seriously thinking about this until I realized three things: 1) I was going to make it during Bria's nap. 2) I like chopping vegetables. 3) I don't have a big enough food processor.
So I hand-chopped everything, and it was so delightful to just stand up to my counter and chop, chop, chop while Bria napped the afternoon away. Then, you just combine everything in a big beautiful bowl, and you're done. Seriously. Chop, chop, chop, combine, done.
I served it up with some Trader Joe's cornbread, which resulted in a small part of my soul dying while it baked, but it was soooo worth it. That stuff is good. As was the gazpacho. It tasted exactly how the last days of spring should taste-- vibrant, alive, and fresh. We all gobbled it down, including Bria. She ate two bowls of her own, then she climbed up onto Elisa's lap and demanded Elisa's bowl. And also? I'm going to stop pretending I have any idea whatsoever of how to take pictures of my food. But here's what it all looked like:

And now for the recipe:

Gazpacho
(adapted from Ina Garten and Pioneer Woman)

1 hothouse cucumber, not peeled, seeds removed
1/2 red bell pepper
1/2 orange bell pepper
4-5 roma tomatoes, seeds removed
1 red onion
3 garlic cloves
1 zucchini
1 stalk celery
32 ounces tomato juice
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
1/4 extra virgin olive oil
dash kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

Finely dice all vegetables and toss them into a bowl with remaining ingredients. Stir thoroughly and refrigerate until cold. Serve chilled with avocado, sour cream, cilantro, and a splash of lime.

Gtown Cupcake twice and thrice

We went to Georgetown Cupcake again. And again.

First Sam, Bria, and I went a couple weeks ago on a dull Wednesday afternoon. The traffic was awful, and Bria was whining and complaining because she wanted ice cream, not cupcakes-- until she got her chocolate squared.
Then, in her words: "I'm happy now!"
And then Elisa and Matt came for the weekend, so we had to take them, of course. And it was soooo good. I had my own strawberry cupcake (which I thought was ok, but Sam almost died he thought it was so delicious), and I ate half of Bria's vanilla squared AND half of Whitney's vanilla birthday cupcake. Those vanillas are where it's at, my friends. Why do people ever use vanilla to describe something as plain? Seriously, so wrong.

Just you wait, because there's so much more to tell from Matt and Elisa's visit. I think all we did was eat. I did end up super sick one night from all our indulgent meals, but it was soooo worth it.

Closet Pioneer

On Friday Whitney and I went and picked strawberries at this fantastic farm in Maryland. I swear, there is something about being in the fresh clean air, with acres of green in every direction that just makes the world seem right. I have this secret fantasy of living on a farm and living off the fat o' the land (which is why I loved this book). But the not-so-secret is that I hate bugs more than anything in this world. And I hate yard work. So, unless I could just sit on a bug-free porch year round and enjoy the fruits of other people's farm labors . . . I'm not so sure it's a plausible fantasy.
So, it was, like, the very last day of strawberry season, and the berries were tiny and mostly smooshy and gross, so the picking was slow and nearly fruitless (ha!), but I came home with 4 pounds of strawbs, nonetheless.
Then I found out that Whitney doesn't even like strawberries (or cherries!), and I felt bad for dragging her along, because it was so hot and bright and over an hour away. But she didn't seem to mind. And when I got home and went through the berries, I found that most weren't as good as I had thought. I think I had to toss out about half our loot. With the remaining berries, Sam and I made some fantastic milk shakes, and tonight I relived this post and made some jam, which I feel really happy about. Last year, after making jam, I lamented that I wouldn't be able to keep any of the jam I made because of our imminent move. Three cheers for not having to move this year, because I might just keep all this jam to myself (just to make up for last year).

I haven't been a stellar blogger lately. I wish I could say it's because I've been doing lots of cool, adventurous things and eating great food, but we're just dealing with a case of the terrible twos over here. Also, the humid heat of Virginia might be getting best of me. (and it's not even officially summer yet!)

If you don't hear from me again soon, send in replacements. and some ice cream.

NYC food: Rosa Mexicano

Out of our group of six, my sister Amy had been to New York most recently, which was helpful when it came to planning. For our first dinner in the Big Apple, Amy recommended Rosa Mexicano, which, when I looked up the restaurant, I saw they have in D.C., so that's exciting.

We started with this ginormous bowl of made-at-your-table guacamole. It was really fantastic, and I was so irrationally excited about it, so I started taking a bunch of pictures, and then our guacamolier offered to take one with me. This was kind of embarrassing, but I think this picture makes it quite clear that I didn't care and I have no shame.
One of the best parts of New York was that I ate a lot of seafood. My mom doled out hefty portions of food money to us all on the first night, and it was so delightful to go out to nice restaurants and choose the salmon without feeling like maybe I was choosing fish over winter shoes for Bria or something.

Most of us had dishes that featured mole in one form or another. I have only had one other encounter with mole, and it was not a good one. When I was a sophomore in college, I had a huge (unrequited) crush on this boy I nicknamed The Hobbit. He cooked dinner for my apartment one night (the background to this dinner is a story for another time). He made us an "authentic mexican dinner" which consisted of flour tortillas, boiled chicken tenderloins, and mole. I still can't talk about it without gagging. Anyway, I have no way of knowing if the mole under my salmon was actually good, but I think I was too scarred to even try it. But my sisters did thoroughly enjoy their mole enchiladas.

The mole sorbet (see it down there? at the top of the flan?), however, was intriguing and weird and almost delightful. It kind of tasted like Christmas-- but not necessarily in a magical way. (p.s. Lindsay, thanks for giving your dessert a peace sign/bunny ears.)

And then we have the ice creams. Mexican vanilla. Delicious! Mexican chocolate. Absolutely fantastic. Almost grainy, which I actually enjoyed. And Sweet Potato Rum Raisin. OK. Why did I order that? I don't know. I really don't love sweet potatoes. But the ice cream was actually really scrumptious. It tasted more like a pumpkin ice cream, which saved me from feeling like I was eating a sweet tasting vegetable (*shudder*). I just nudged all the raisins out of the ice cream. Raisins have no place in ice cream. But, my goodness, all three of these ice creams certainly have a place in my heart/mouth/stomach.

Asking for forgiveness.

So . . . Project Spring? I don't know. It kind of petered out. Will you forgive me?

Also, I can't find my camera cord, so I can't upload any pictures from New York. Sorry. I think it's buried in one of the several piles of stuff in my room.

Speaking of which, I never did finish that spring cleaning (see opening line of this blog post). But I think the time is now, because my dear sister Whitney is moving here! And staying with me for a couple weeks before she can move into her cute new house, which means all this clutter in my apartment needs to go. Seriously. Clutter out! Whitney in!

I've been such a blogging slacker lately. Forgive me? I'm going to try to be better, as long as you don't mind if I don't write as much about food as I used to. I have so many things to say! They just aren't all about food. Is that ok? I hope so.

Highlights

1. When I packed for NYC, I wanted to be prepared for any of my walking needs, so I packed five pairs of shoes. I came home with ten. (I also added three purses and a wallet to my collection.)

2. As the only one who didn't come from another time zone, I think I actually adjusted to my West Coast family's inner clocks. This morning when my sister Whitney's alarm went of at 5 am (after going to bed after 1 am), I found myself extremely disoriented, so, naturally, I elbowed her in the face.

3. A culinary list: wasabi coconut crusted salmon, cheese tortellini in a lobster cream sauce, avocado parmesan and pine nut sandwich, sweet potato rum raisin ice cream

4. Outrageous, self-given makeovers at Sephora in Times Square, where an ex-NYPD/wannabe actor/Sephora employee accurately guessed our ages.


And can I just say that New York is huge? I don't think anyone could ever run out of things to do there. I am already trying to think of a way to go back (and take Sam with me).