I can have whatever I like. . . .

Or so says T.I. in my new favorite song. Did I tell you I have horrid taste in music?

Glitz-ishly festive was my mood this past Thursday as I closed up shop at the end of a long and pleasantly busy day. The song "Whatever you like" was playing on my ipod, further encouraging me towards lush excess.

Dreamily scrub scrub scrubbing away at the dishes, I remembered that the Oscars-- as lush and glitzy event if there ever was one-- were coming up and it would be a good thing if had a festive cocktail ready. Also,and better still, I'd best TEST said cocktail recipe immediately and without delay. An excuse for instant gratification! Yes please!

Now, in the interest of journalistic integrity, I feel you should know that I stole this straight from Gourmet online. However, I don't feel like anyone reads that stuff except for me, so my writing about the cocktail is really more like doing the beverage a favor seeing as it's delicious and people should know that.

Phew. Ok, so it's called the Meryl Streep and if you really want to know why, go to Gourmet.com and look it up. I'd say it really doesn't matter, all you need to know is that it tastes like a glittering night sky in a glass and it looks like one too.




Simple and dreamy, this has only 3 ingrediants. No muddling, steeping, shaking, stirring, nothing. Just bubbly (I used that fabulous CRISTALino stuff), Goldschlager and Benedictine ( I used B&B because it was available in a not-giant bottle that suited me). In my dreams of this cocktail there would be a goldfleck to adorne each and every soaring bubble in the glass, but don't get too hung up on that because it is unlikely to happen that way. The color is gorgeous and the sipping will leave you mesmerized. You'll have stars in your eyes no matter what.



THE MERYL STREEP

adapted from Gourmet.com

1tsp Goldschlager
1tsp B&B
Plenty of Bubbly

Measure the Goldschlager and B&B into lovely flutes, top with bubbly. Be star-struck.

serves 1.



Here's a little picture, with a rose, for cheese factor. It is Oscar night after all.

a bunch of Bologn. . .

...ese.

haha! Awesome.



Today's story is a bittersweet one about a failed recipe, and a failed post. Last night I composed a beautiful post for you (whoever you are, possibly no one), each word painstakingly selected for your reading pleasure. In all honesty, though it sounded pretty, I wasn't entirely happy with it. 3 am and I was pooped, I resolved to look it over once more in the morning and put the finishing touches on it.

Then blogger ate it. In retrospect, it's very possible that the Big Editor in the Sky stepped in to save me from myself and my attachment to what I write. Now in the light of day, I can see that B.E. in the S. was giving me a fresh start.



I'm going to keep it simple, because what I have to tell you is just that. In a nutshell, I tried a recipe and it wasn't what I'd hoped.

Did you see the Jan. issue of Gourmet? The one with the dazzling spaghetti and meatballs on the cover? Well I wanted to make everything in that issue, and I know I'm not alone. We are a country of pasta lovers. I've always thought that was why low-carb is so big, as a we are also a country of people who seem to think if we love something, we should stay away from it. But that's another story.

Anyway, I decided to start by trying my hand at Lasagne Bolognese, the likes of which I have never before attempted. Always a good idea.

To this day, I couldn't say if it was me or the recipe. Ignorant tastebuds? Crappy ricotta? Over baked? Under baked? Who knows, but the bottom line is that after two days of chopping, stirring-while-simmering, and generally pouring my love into this effort I was met with rather a disappointment.

All was not lost though, and this is why;






Yes, half the recipe was a keeper, though by the time I realized that I had already sullied it with the other half. That is to say, the Bolognese was BolognaMAZING and all would have been hunky dory had I realized that before splashing it around in a pan with the noodle-y spinach gunk.

Spreading this knoweledge to you also redeems my efforts. I can convince myself that my time and money was well spent if you promise to hop along and whip up this Bolognese and stop there. Skip the Lasagne and just eat the Bolognese right out of the pan. Everything tastes better that way anyway. Or if you insist on an accompaniment, stay simple. A plate of penne, a bowl of bucatini.


Now you know. Ciao Bellas! Mangia!