Chicken Soup with Kluski

12 Apr

Chicken soup mise en place.

The weather is crazy. One day it is spring, the next it is summer, then we are bounced back into the winter. So with the fluctuating temperatures Mr. Big got sick. He has the flu or something. He is all meepy and needs attention. The best way for me to address his needs is by cooking him dinner.  I decided to prepare chicken noodle soup.  That warms anyone’s soul. I make mine a little bit different; I use the culinary skills my babcia gave me.

Chicken soup is chicken soup, but what makes it Polish to me is the use of parsley root and my noodle of choice; kluski. We grew up with rosół and variations of it. Rosół is Polish chicken broth soup.  Delicious!  It is easy to make like any chicken soup.  The difficult part for my family was making the kluski.  I spent a lot of time with my babcia cooking.  I know her secret to making these little white pillows that are boiled in the chicken broth.  If there is no time to make them the default kluski are just plain noodles either precooked or cooked in the soup.

Kluski or kluska (singular) is a polish term for a non-filled dumpling or noodle.  They can take on many shapes, textures, and flavors and can be made in different ways.  Some kluski are made of wheat flour, mashed potatoes, potato flour, water, eggs, milk, or cream.  There are many variations based on the region of Poland you are in.  Kluski are all around awesome!  The ones my babcia used for the rosół is a simple recipe consisting of flour, cream, salt, and egg yolks.  All mixed by sight and consistency of the batter.

Making this soup is just plain easy, gather cut, dump in pot, cover with water, wait, make kluski, and then enjoy.  Easy.

Finished soup. Wish you could see the kluski.

Rosół AKA Chicken Soup

  • 1 whole chicken, broken down and back split
  • 2 medium onions, medium dice
  • 4 celery stalks, medium dice
  • 5 carrots, peeled, medium dice
  • 3 parsley roots, peeled, medium dice
  • 5 sprigs fresh thyme
  • 4 sprigs fresh parsley
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1 teaspoon whole peppercorns
  • Salt to taste
  1. Have everything cut and ready to go.  Be sure your chicken is butchered, you can remove the skin if you wish, but i like the fat it adds to the soup.  Also use the chicken carcass in the soup; because it adds flavor and texture to the broth.
  2. Place all the ingredients in a medium-sized stockpot and then cover with cold water.  Place on the range under medium high heat and then cover with a lid.
  3. Cook the soup for 30-40 minutes.  
  4. Remove the chicken bones when you are ready to make the kluski.

These kluski appear larger then they really are, but they are delicious.

Quick Kluski

  • 1 cup of all purpose flour
  • 2 eggs
  • 1/2 heavy cream
  • Pinch salt
  1. In a small bowl combine the flour, salt, eggs, and cream.
  2. Mix with a fork until not lumpy.
  3. If the batter appears to thin then add more flour, if it is too thick add more cream.
  4. The batter should be able to hold its shape on a spoon.
  5. With a dining room tablespoon, scoop out teaspoon size quenelles and dip immediacy into the simmering soup.  The kluska should fall right off the spoon and cook in the broth.  Repeat until all the batter is used.

Quick, Step, Step

3 Apr

Mr. C. Pinchy by DTR.

Getting back into the groove of things here at home.  Odd to know that my season has changed.  Glad to know that cooking and food has fully re-entered my life.  I am in a big list mood, it seems that is all i do is make lists.  So here is another one to add to my posts.  The food list of 2012.

Food/Summer Goals I Want to Reach

  1. Write the class outline
  2. Take a photography class
  3. Plant my garden
  4. Bake 6 new cookies
  5. Bagatelle time
  6. Outline 2 other singles
  7. Write a short story
  8. Take a foraging class
  9. Eat more local meat
  10. Join a CSA
  11. Eat a lot more veggies
  12. Have a seafood party
  13. Have a party at the house
  14. Go to the cleve
  15. Be happy everyday

Catching Up Big Time

27 Mar

It is the end of another wonderful curling season.  I have achieved so much and am somewhat overwhelmed by what I choose to do with my life.  Traveling to multiple states to play, trying to reach a goal that I thought was far away; but actually is closer than I thought.  So what now?  Here is a tiny list of what is to come from me in the coming weeks and months.

  1. I need to get back on track with my jobs.  I love them both dearly and I need to thank them both for permitting me to be me.
  2. Write, write, write. (I have El Bulli, the Office, and Nellcote in the hopper)
  3. Head back to the gym to get more mass built up, but to maintain my flexibility and ROM.
  4. Buy a camera and take photos
  5. Start making small videos
  6. Clean the house
  7. Build a garden outside
  8. Europe calling?
  9. Organize next season
  10. Try to keep my head in line
Everyday I try to be who I am.  I have no idea if I am doing it right or wrong.  I just am.  To live in the moment and to try to be happy.  That is what I want.  There are days I recall many moments and others when I cherish one second.  Each day I try to chase the rabbit and hope to catch it.  Yes, I love Louis Carroll.  Is my reality my fantasy or my fantasy my reality. Ha!  What a day.  Now I plan for the next.
“If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense.  Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t.  And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?”– Louis Carroll

Our achievements of today are but the sum total of our thoughts of yesterday. You are today where the thoughts of yesterday have brought you and you will be tomorrow where the thoughts of today take you.”– Blaise Pasca

Mentors

14 Mar

Finally I have found some mentors in my adult life.  They happened to be The Judge, two coaches, and a writer.  Each one has made my life better and has added meaning to what I do and what I want to achieve.  These individuals have given my life structure, provided new ways of thinking, and new ways I can lead my life.  They allow me to make some sense of me; of all the craziness that lives between my ears.  Plus, they have enjoyed spending time with me.

These people have made me feel comfortable in my skin. They game me the strength to keep at who I was and was becoming.  The process of learning is not easy.  There are a lot of bumps on that road.  I will let you know I have suffered my fair share of bumps and turbulence.  My commitment to achieving my goals is strong.  I grin and bear through ridicule and judgement from others; misunderstanding, misinterpretation, pain, sweat, mental anguish, and  anything else you can think of.  Hey, I am still here.  I am still trying to be the best person I can be.

My mentors in my life can be counted on one hand.  They are so very important to me.  I can hear their voices in my head, I can see what they are writing down on sheets of paper for me.  I can feel their eyes piercing through me to get the best out of me.  They know there is more in me trying to get out.  Each of these folks made a connection to me.  They made me feel empowered.  I can be who I am and achieve whatever I want.

One mentor is responsible for allowing me to be me.  Teaching me to free write, to let my emotions come out, find this odd voice that is mine, question reality, question creativity, and know that I am being genuine.  He saw the writer in me, the creativity that lived in my head, and that I was an athlete.  A deadly combo of brains and brawn; something that many girls in my catholic school did not have. He knew that I was aware of my difference among my classmates and he permitted me to embrace it; even through my mini goth/death phase.

Coach.  Yes, coach.  Pushing me to be the best, knowing that I can come back and say I can do it better, I can get faster, stronger, and smarter.  The coaches knowing that I can close my eyes and know how my body moves through space.  I can see part of me moving properly and improperly.  Give me the feedback and I can do it.  Give me the opportunity and I can achieve it.  I am the player who can spend countless hours practicing one skill.  Why?  Because I have the patience and the drive to do so.  Coaches who have been able to see this have been amazed to see what I can do.  What am able to do is see my overall process, I may not be great at it now, but give me 1 month, 6 months, or 1 year.  Hell I will get there, just be patient.  My coaches permit me to be a scholar of the sport; on and off the ice/court.  I have a desire to know.  I may not need it now, but it will come back later.  I have the commitment to sport, the patience, and the respect to allow those who are more knowledgable to shape me to becoming a better player.

Sport has been the one aspect of my life that I have felt the most comfortable with.  I have always excelled playing sports or learning new ones.  I constantly default to my body and its ability to work in space, lift heavy things, or to climb obstacles.  The physicality of sport has allowed me to calm down, sweat it out, and relax.  I move too fast in my mind and the movement of sport permits my body and mind to slow down.  To find calm in moments of my life.

This all leads me back to the person who now influences many parts of my mind.  The writer.  The writer energizes me to pursue a dream of reading, researching, testing, and writing.  Tells me when things are going well or poorly.  Honest and very real.  No sugar.  It just is what it is.  I take responsibility for both negative and positive results.  Here I see the voice emerge from the writer; I want to dive into myself and see how I can pull that strength out of me.  Or just find out if it is in me.  I see the voice in him, the power of it, and what it is able to do.  I am left speechless.

The writer sees that I can play a sport, but challenges me to find my voice.  This is so novel to me.  Funny, novel.. anyways.  I am beginning to feel the power of what I feel through my fingers again.  I am trying ever so slightly to channel the words I am thinking in my head to the keyboard.  Be emotive, be informative, share a story that connects.  In all of this, I can see how writing can lead me to finding myself.  Maybe it is a bunch of mumbo jumbo, but I really don’t care.  The future of me is coming around and well I am really excited to see her.  So, thank you.

In the midst of all of these words from my collection of thoughts, I believe I can say that these people have left major imprints on me.   I want them to know that I think of them everyday.  That their words and actions have made me remember these thoughts.

  • Judge: be who you are, remember the classics, keep writing, and be the athlete you are: Johnny Unitis.
  • Coaches: mold and shape me, make me a better player each time i step out on the ice/court, I wait for every morsel you will share with me.
  • Writer: you are smart, talented, kind, and adored.  You are on course for what you want to go.
Now it is time for me to focus on me to become who I want to be and become.  Am I afraid?  At times.  Will I fail?  Sure I will, but I will pick myself up and try again.  The one thing that each of my mentors have taught me is that I am different and it is ok for me to be who I am.  The scary part is that I am finally starting to accept that being different is my biggest strength.

A great quote from the most talented writer Jack Kerouac

“Here’s to the crazy ones; the misfits; the rebels; the trouble-makers; the round pegs in the square holes; the ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. But the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.”

elBulli of Desire

29 Feb

A bit of background here.  I wrote this about 4 weeks ago, prior to the start of the new season at Next.  A lot has happened since then, like taking fifth at USA women’s curling nationals and scoring season tickets to Next.  This reflection took me about a week to rationalize and write.  You probably know that my mind works very differently then most and when I am committed to something I am in for it.  I love my work in the culinary field and I love my desire to train for sport.  This post took a lot out of me and it tested my mind.  In a few days I will be dining at Next for the elBulli menu and I will report on the meal as I always do.  First, here is my emotional rant on my obsession to dine at the top restaurants in the world.-DK

Tell me if I am crazy. Tell me if I am sane. I have the most amazing story and I have no idea how to rationalize it. This has everything to do with Next and the elBulli dinner. It is sad, possibly refreshing, and quite insane; but it really happened.  I feel my decision every day since I found out.

If you are into food, I mean serious big boy food you know that elBulli closed this past year. You also know that Grant Achatz and Nick Kokonas are doing an elBulli inspired menu at their super cool and exclusive restaurant Next.  Yes, I have dined there twice and have gotten tickets for the thai dinner too. So, to some I am one lucky girl with fast fingers.  This past month; we or well the whole culinary world has been patiently anticipating the elBulli dinner, maybe not patiently; but has been stalking them on Facebook, twitter, their website, etc to find out when the tickets will hit the interwebs.

Last week Next announced that tickets were not on sale, but you could throw your name in the hat to see if you get to be a part of the first week of dinners for the new menu. What the hell I thought I’ll throw in my name as I have many times before to see if I get in. I had no idea what I was thinking or what crossed my mind when I wrote down the date. Maybe my sister since the date I selected was her birthday or the fact that my boss may want them. I had no idea; I was on auto pilot.  Nor was I prepared for the feeling that I could be consumed by these tickets, by elBulli, by the fact that my mind and my stomach craved that ticket.

Monday night after my late night of curling in the land of cheese, I got the email from Next. OMG! I got the email!  No way!  I instantly dropped to my knees.  I was overcome with a full range of emotions. I could not control my anger, I could not control my tears, and a smurk was on my face. Someone asked me if I was ok. In that moment I had to collect myself and think fast.  I was at a curling club with “meat and potatoes” people.  The people who surrounded me would not understand what just happend; I realized the fact that no one would get it; get elBulli.  If I told them that I was just invited to attend the most exclusive dinner in the city and how much it cost, they would think that I was off my head. The curlers were probably thinking someone died or a bad thing just happend at work. They would not be thinking ah that poor girl can not attend dinner at Next for the elBulli dinner; that is so sad. 😦

In that instant I was totally numb. I was shaking when I made 3 phone calls to 3 fellow foodies. I was in shock. Nothing could have prepared me for the reaction to getting that email from Next and what emotions followed.  First to overwhelm me was the rationalization of my feelings, what it meant to dine there and what my desires are.  One could say it started out as dinner, then it turned into a philosophical reflection of desire, gluttony, and experience.  This existential examination of the self  that was brought about by dinner.  No one told me that this ticket would turn into both a cloud of dispar and a beam of enlightenment. My philosophy profs from college would be so proud.

Yes, I wanted to go to Next to experience the dinner of a lifetime. The ticket invite was sitting in my mailbox, but the date I picked fell on the week of my Curling National Championship in Philly. No big deal I thought. Yes, it freaking was. These were the two things I wanted so badly and I knew I could only have just one. Option 1: the dinner of my life.  Option 2:  six years of training for curling and years of desire to work my way back to represent the United States again in another sport. A battle arouse between gluttony and persistence. elBulli or curling. I wanted both; only one could win.  I suddenly thought that I could swing both.  Thank god the sound of reason stepped in and told me that a $300ish dinner could turn into a $1000 faster than I could think. For me to go to Philly then back to Chicago to return to curl in Philly would be possible, but INSANE. All I could think of was where is my sugar daddy with my G6 when I really needed it?   The inner me kicked in and said “Think E think”.  If I flew back to the Chi to eat and then flew back it would be fantastic and then cat lady crazy.  This is the kind of crazy you can not explain to non-culinary people. Normal eaters would think I am utterly insane, in fact I am already kinda nuts, but this would be institutional crazy.

Anyone who knows what I do in the culinary world and knows how persistent I am; how real I am; or how respectful I am towards the profession.  These individuals know that if there was anyone who could get tickets to elBulli it would be me. Yes, I DID. I am also big into sharing and providing opportunities to others in the realm of food. In my heart and my mind I knew that I could give up those tickets to elBulli in a moment. Once I saw the email, I was enveloped with emotion.  All I wanted to do was to hold those tickets closer to my heart and tell myself I wanted to go.  This was going to be the dinner of my life.  A dinner as if the master was there. I felt like Veruca Salt from Willy Wonka, I want it all! Why? A desire to dine at all the top restaurants in the world, to collect food memories like Pokemon. Yes! Is that shallow? How can I make sense of this?  Can you? How am I bound to this? Letting dinner go should be easy. I mean saints do it all the time, maybe that is what I am; the future saint of the culinary world. Now that is pretty funny… I had to repeat that I was not going to dinner over and over.  That I could not go and it was ok.

Some of you maybe thinking how could you give up these tickets? I thought the same. I challenged myself to sit back for one moment and think why I wanted it so bad. The exclusiveness of it, dining as if I was at elBulli, to follow the father of modernist cuisine, or a slew of other reasons. My ultimate answer was to have a moment.  A moment that I could never have again.  To eat what I only dreamed of and saw on the pages of Ferran Adria’s cookbooks or in the video I saw of his cuisine. To examine this issue more I talked with a chef friend.  After speaking with B and discussed a Master Chef teacher of ours another realization hit. How much can you really eat? How many dinners can you have that are truly novel and real? When do you get sick of dining out searching for that perfect moment? All cuisine in one form or another does becomes passé.  Or does it?  How could I trade all my training to reach a possible world championship in a sport  for a dinner?   I know what this dinner means, but looking at the entire picture is it really that important. It depends right?

Right now I am over the fact that I turned down my dinner to elBulli. Yes, I cried when I watched Grant’s videos he released for the dinner. Inside of me I have culinary faith and persistence. Although I turned down this dinner of a lifetime I can sense that the karma will come back; a second chance could be in my future.  If not for this dinner, then another experience that I can not see right now. What I am, is me. In my odd life good things happen to me and surprises are around every corner. I am no different any one else who wants to eat, I go for the experience and I’m hungry.

There will always be another dinner, another chef, another master, and another moment. Do not be consumed by the flurry of emotions that entangle you in these instances of loss. Just breathe. It is ok. It is dinner. Keep in mind that billions of other people do not understand elBulli, to them what it is, is just dinner. One can not forget that. IT IS JUST DINNER. The culinary Buddha has spoken.

You are thinking where did my tickets go. Back into the tumbler?  Maybe another story for another time.  I do hope to hear back from the people who went to my dinner somewhere in the cyber world. The reaction now will be worth the wait. Those stories will tell me if I made the right choice. Until then I am still hitting my refresh button, but not as frequently as I did before. Culinary enlightenment has occurred, a sense of peace has entered my stomach. I may have had my fill and I am ready to start my new chapter in my culinary life. To share what I have had and what I will experience, to bring clarity to what it all is. The emotional attachment to the freznie of high end dining and that the perfection of food preparation can occur at home. Now that is real!

J’ai Perdu…Perdu

9 Feb

Wondering if the real me is actually here

Rambling around; doing what I am doing

Experiencing what I am experiencing

Thinking if this is it

Is my life just this?

A collection of moments bound by a mind, body and soul

Ponder that and then consider the alternative

Maybe one’s existence is organized by ones mind

Random assembly of creative notions that form the day

 

There are times where I am so full of energy and color

Others when gray and pain envelope me

What choice does one have?

Continue or end

Which is better?

There is no right answer

Play and go on; no other.

 

I see Alice and I see part of me in her

We mirror.

How odd…

Who will escape?

Who is really real?

Words on a page or my existence

One will live forever

It is clearly seen in black and white

There is no red

Yet, I will still chase, question, yearn , and fall

Only to see that I could be on that page

That I have been created and molded to be the way of the writer or the artist

Never unique or individual, but a figment pieced together in someone’s head.

 

When the book is done

When my day is over

It will all come to a close

The end is always near no matter how long it is to the finish

Ask then who recalls the life of her.

 

—-

Thanks for permitting me to let that beast out.  Kinda rusty.  It needs some oil.  Later…

 

Childhood Eats & Dreams

14 Jan

Nothing can tear this girl away from her lunch box. I am not trading ANYTHING!

2012 is here.  I can not believe it.  I have so much to do, but looking back on 2011 I have achieved so much.  This is the first time I really feel like I am building something for myself.  A path for my life seems to be taking shape oddly enough.  The one I do need to do, which has become another theme of what I write about is I must keep to the map.  It is critical for me to review my goals and to stick to some kind of plan.  As you have seen I tend to wander a bit.  That is one of the downfalls of my ability to try to live in the moment; the overall randomness and curiosity I have for life.  Before I start to spiral out of control I will tempt you with this; my last dinner at Next.

Yes, I am a very lucky, but persistent chica.  Nothing can get in my way of food.  Nothing.  So, when the new dinner was announced for Next I was ready for the rat race to get tickets.  The only thing I had to plan on is when they were going to be released.  Then I could be ready to pounce.  The last two rounds a lot of the tickets were released in the morning or afternoon.  So, when I was in another insomniac web surfing stupor I was totally shocked that tickets were on sale at 1:30am.  Score!  I ended up getting a table for 2 at a more suitable time; 5:30pm.  We were going to Childhood Memories.

By the way I am from the land of the glove, the Great Lake State, the second most diverse agriculture state in the US; the beautiful and lovely state of Michigan.  For me the courses that were selected and presented with also snapshots of my childhood because the chefs and I are pretty much the same age.  Some of the foods of my childhood were nearly snacks since we cooked from scratch a lot.  Foods such as Campbell’s chicken noodle soup, Kraft mac & cheese, and Pillsbury chocolate chip cookies were luxury items.  The foods I dream about from my youth are Goober & Grape, cider & doughnuts, s’mores, frosted animal cookies (the good ones), and gingerbread cookies.  When this menu was announced I was excited to see the creativity of each course.  I did not purchase tickets to know that the food was the most extra ordinary I purchased tickets to see the thought process and imagination of a group of talented chefs.  That like many other small things makes me happy.  Enjoy the inspiration below.

Next
Childhood Memories Menu 

PB & J
Cocktail of Madeira & Luxardo Maraschino

Chicken Soup
No Noodles, a noodle of chicken
Solena, Pinot Gris, Willamette, OR 2010

Fish-N-Chips
Drawn By a Child

Mac & Cheese
A Merry-Go-Round of Garnishes
Caparone, Sangiovese, Paso Robles, CA 2006
Sarah’s Vineyard, Charbono, Santa Clara Valley, CA 2008

Autumn Scene
A Walk Through a Michigan Forest

Hamburger
McDonald’s, Buger King, White Castle…. no?
Ridge ‘Ponzo Vineyard’ Zinfandel, Russian River Valley, CA 2009

Lunch Box
Nutella Snack Pack
Wagyu Jerky
Apple-Brandy Leather
Truffled Oreo
Homemade Gunyun
Mixed Berry Drink

“Foie”sting and Donuts
Lick if Off the Beater!
Joseph Phelps, Eisrebe, Napa Valley, CA 2008

Hot Cocoa

So here it goes the iPhone Pics and insanity…………..

the surprise

our first bite, literally in this tiny box…

Peanut Butter and Jelly

Ta-da small snack of everyone’s favorite sandwich; peanut butter and jelly.  A small bundle of magic with liquid jelly popping in your mouth.

Chicken and a noodle soup

So,  I get it.  I too grew up craving the noodles and broth of Campbells chicken noodle soup.  Next makes beautiful stocks.  This time with the chilled chicken mousse they needed to watch the salt content.  Stock seasoned well and mousse seasoned well; but together almost deadly.  The one long noodle was fun, luscious caramelized pearl onions, carrots, parsley, and a celery leaf are the other components of this course.

Fish and chips including a hand drawn picture of me.

I love all the components here.  Wish the vinegar foam was stronger.  This dish had pickles, sea beans, panko, crunchy potato fan, Meyer lemon gelee, and balsamic reduction drawing.  The fish was walleye, a traditional Great Lake fishy.  Tons of creativity and very tasty.

A closer look at the fish

Hmmmm the fish.  Just good to see a different view of this course.

A different take on mac and cheese. It is not Kraft.

Kraft dinner appeared here and there when my sister and I were in high school.  Before then my family did not purchase such a product.  This course was fun and probably one of the stronger courses.  The noodles and cheese were prefect, but the true features are the small garnishes around the pasta.  Starting at 6 the circle is bread crumbs, moving clockwise you then have fresh tomato and micro-herb, pasta with annatto (which makes cheddar orange), parmesan custard, prosciutto pinwheel, an apple cube, and lastly a dehydrated Nathan hot dog.  Yes, I would have this dish again.

So very Rene Redzepi. Hidden are mushrooms leeks and more.

Ok this course was my absolute favorite.  Mushrooms roasted, sautéed, and dehydrated served with crispy leeks, sweet potatoes, and greens.  This course was presented on an open log with smoldering straw.  Both eye appealing and delicious.  The imagination used to create this dish is top notch.  This surprised me and I wanted more of this.  I hope this type of plating is used more, I know just from a recent trip to Alinea that it was.  Overall this did bring me back to the forest during a chilly fall afternoon with a campfire in the background and the lot of us girl scouts searching for edible treats in the nature that surrounded us.  Ahhhh more please.

Hamburger your way....

Another very creative and a very Dali course; the hamburger.  It consists of braised short rib, may, ketchup, baby lettuce, mayo, mustard, pickle, onion, and bread ribbons topped with sesame seeds.  They asked you to think of a burger and all I could think about was Red Knapps.  So good. The only thing I did not like about this dish was too much noodle buns and not enough onion and mustard.  The short rib was very yummy.

Trade time?

Lunch box time.  I felt like I was in second grade again.  This was perfect and made me smile.  A boozy thermos of juice, a fruit roll up, oreo-esque cookie, crunchy onion chip, beef jerky, and pudding.  No big sized kid would want to trade their lunch for something else.  Totally a fun and whimsical dish.  I love the fact that they found classic lunch boxes.  Not to mention the hand written notes inside.  Big’s said to play nice whereas mine told me mom disliked my last yelp review of her packed lunch.  So, funny and this course makes everyone smile.

Foie-sting and doughnuts

This should just be called the OMG course.  Foie gras frosting on the beater and cider doughnuts.  I could smear the frosting over anything and everything.  It is sooooo goooood.  The only issue with this dish was the doughnuts.  These puppies were not perfect fried morsels, instead they were little rocks.  Not the may west.  Really, the frosting was the best, so good.

Hmmm fire dessert

Watch out!!  On fire sweet potato pie. This dessert incorporated flamed sweet potatoes, bourbon ice cream, sweet pir crust crunchies, and marshmallows.  Plus, it has a caramel sauce to drizzle all over it.  All in all a pretty solid dessert and it tasted great.  I enjoyed the super cold and delicious bourbon ice cream.  There is a great video on this dish somewhere on YouTube, you should find it, or maybe I will.

A warm ending to the dinner.

To end the night we had hot chocolate with a shot of cognac.  A simple ending to a fun and whimsical dinner.

That is it.  That was childhood memories.  Now all I can think about and dream of is El Bulli.  I also must apologize for neglecting to write.  I will be better I promise for all those who care.  Look forward to some cool products and some free writing.  BTW I am headed back to curling nationals!