Cut right down to the soul, to the center of you

Materials
8 ounces of tomato sauce
1 cup brussel sprouts
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and pepper
1 heirloom tomato
1/4 cup white onion
3 cloves of garlic
1/4 cup mozzarella
1 handful of whole wheat penne
Crushed red pepper

1. Get pissed. You usually approach certain friendships in a zen-like fashion. allowing the relationship to flow along the path of least resistance. But tonight, for reasons unknown, you are going to have blind faith in your unreliable friend. You are going to think that, for once, they will follow through and what they say will align with what they do. Tonight you will be let down even though you should have known better.
2. Look through the kitchen, gathering the foods that are close at hand. Bang pots and pans. Slam cabinets. Heat the oven to 425.
3. Pour the tomato sauce into a small sauce pan and set on the stove over low heat.
4. Clean the brussel sprouts. Cut off the stems, peel away any discolored leaves, and quarter. Toss with the olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Carelessly throw the brussel sprouts from the bowl onto a baking sheet. Use a spatula to stab at the brussel sprouts, spreading them out and making sure they are uniformly laid out on the sheet.
5. Put the brussel sprouts in the oven and set your timer for 10 minutes. In the meantime, throw the cheap pot your ex-roommate bought at the flea market for a quarter into the sink. Fill with water and set on the stove to boil.
6. Grab your cutting board and smack it down on the counter. Even though you're pissed and acting rashly in the kitchen, you are not being careless. You continue to move comfortably around in this space you have made your own, everything in its own place exactly where your hand knows to find it. Cut the heirloom tomato that you bought on impulse at the farmer's market on Saturday into large chunks. Chop the onion. Slice the garlic. Rip the mozzarella into shreds. Do not cut off any of your fingers. Throw everything on the cutting board into the pot with the tomato sauce and increase to a medium heat. Stir hastily, splashing up the sides of the sauce pan once or twice.
7. Your timer just went off. Using your spatula again, open the oven and stab at the brussel sprouts until they're turned enough and can brown on the other side. Set your timer for 15 minutes.
8. Thrust your hand into the pasta jar and grab a handful of penne. Toss into the pot of now boiling water. Stir the pasta sauce and put the lid over the sauce pan to trap the heat inside and thicken the sauce.
9. Sit back and stew while your food does the same. When you think again on what initially made you angry this evening, grab the bottle of crushed red pepper and don't think as you dump ridiculous amounts into the sauce. Stir. Stew some more.
10. If you've timed it correctly, everything will be ready at the same time. Uncover the sauce and reduce the heat. Drain the pasta and set aside. Dump the brussel sprouts into the sauce and stir well. Spoon half of the sauce over the pasta and set the rest aside for another meal.
11. Eat. Savor. Deal. Laugh at the scene you just made in the kitchen and be thankful your roommate was not home.
12. Now that you've burned off your energy and again come to a calm understanding about the state of certain friendships, relax and finish that chapter of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance you started this morning on the train.

Them there eyes

Last week, one of the many daily emails that clog my inbox pointed me in the direction of food gawker. Without thinking of the consequences, I added the site to my Google reader feed… It’s beautiful to look at but completely overwhelming! I probably receive at least 100 new items every day and I now have a ka-fucking-jillion new recipes that I want to try. And by “ka-fucking-jillion” I mean that my eyes are not only bigger than my stomach, they're bigger than my entire body.

She will feed you tomatoes and radio wires

My food cravings seem to have their own seasons, likely dictated by some chemical or nutrient imbalance I create in my own ignorance. The craving du mois is brussel sprouts. (It must be noted that this craving follows a months-long affair with broccoli. Iron, anyone?)

This craving is odd because of the simple fact that I have had brussel sprouts maybe twice before. I have one vague memory of eating them with my parents though I am not sure if this actually happened or is a figment of my imagination. The only experience I do remember clearly happened a few years ago at Alta. Their menu changes frequently so I am not sure if those listed on the current menu are the same. Regardless, my memory is of crispy deliciousness and I would try any brussel sprout they ever wanted to feed me, current cravings aside.

So perhaps when I saw them in the store and my mouth started watering I was unconsciously remembering a distant meal. Was I capable of making crispy brussel sprouts? Not at all. Did I like brussel sprouts otherwise? I had no idea. But at that moment, I only wanted to take them home and eat nothing else for dinner... which I did.

Now, not having any experience preparing this veggie, I had a bit of a staring contest with the sprouts in the kitchen after all of my groceries were unpacked. They won. I retreated to the computer. But, Google to my rescue, I ended up very simply roasting them in the oven - my usual go to with vegetables. And thus it was that I ate one pound of roasted brussel sprouts for dinner. Truth be told, I have made a few meals of roasted brussel sprouts since.

I would like to try other ways to prepare brussel sprouts but my Google searches since then have not helped. It would seem that no one likes brussel sprouts if they're not roasted. So, I started experimenting in the kitchen. I put the sprouts in the food processor, tossed them with the standard olive-oil-salt-and-pepper and roasted the mix in the oven almost as usual. However, this time I took them out a minute early and sprinkled shaved parmesan on top. After letting them cook for a minute longer I mixed them with shredded lettuce and pine nuts for a nice, crisp salad. My stomach could not have been happier.

It did not occur to me until this evening to check over at Orangette. And now, lo and behold, I have new recipes to try. Guess who's stopping by the store tomorrow night for a brussel sprout stockpile?

If anyone asks, well I'll take the blame

And so it begins.

I'm starting this blog with Bonnie because there is too much food - in this city and in general - for two stomachs to tackle. Every week, we inundate one another's inboxes with news of restaurants we just have to try out, things we've eaten, things we want to eat, recipes, grocery stores, specialty shops, cafes... There is not enough space in my head (or my stomach) for each and every one.

We have been discussing the idea of starting a blog for a few months, to act as a clearing house for our restaurant list, a shared place where we can post links and reviews. During that time our ideas for the blog have grown. It will probably include recipes, general food rants and perhaps a few photos if I feel ambitious (or that my photography skills are in any way improving). But too many restaurants fell by the wayside while we were plotting and I'm putting my foot down now.

So, ladies and gentlemen, imaginary friends all: welcome to Texpats, Bonnie and Hilary's space-o-food.