Steak 'n Sprouts

Brussels Sprouts, a bunch
Vegetable Oil
Salt and Pepper

1 Big Ass Motherfucking Steak
4tbl Butter
2 Shallots, minced
2 Garlic Cloves, minced
2c Mushrooms, sliced
1/2c Red Wine, plus more for chugging
Pinch of Flour
Black Pepper, cracked
Flat Leaf Parsley, chopped

Yesterday I decided I wanted some fucking steak for dinner so I trucked on over to Whole Foods and picked out a beautiful honking piece of meat. When it rang up on the scale as $16 I looked at the butcher and loudly asked if for that price it was going to suck my dick while I ate it. She did not appear to be amused. True story. Anyway, there were some brussels sprouts in the fridge from the farmer's market so I made steak and sprouts.

Pick over and clean your sprouts. Toss them with some vegetable oil and salt and pepper. These fine specimens were smaller than average so I roasted them at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes. If you have nothing better to do, and you don't, check out this old ass post I did for roasted brussels sprouts.

While your sprouts are in the oven, heat up a little oil over medium-high heat and sear the shit out of your steak until you get the desired color on each side. Remove it from the pan, place it in a very lightly oiled pyrex and throw it in the oven for about ten minutes or so depending on its size. Lower the stovetop's heat significantly, throw the butter in the pan, and scrape up all the delicious little remnants of your steak. When the butter has fully melted, toss in your garlic and shallot, and let them saute until they get all fragrant and shit. Dump in your mushrooms, let them lightly soften, and pour in the wine. Let it all bubble down until thickened and a little pinch of flour never hurt anyone. Add your pepper, top the steak, and garnish with parsley which I obviously forgot to do. Eat it.

Ameri-Quiche

If you have been reading this inane drivel for any amount of time you know that I go apeshit over quiche as they are the perfect receptacles for leftovers. The other day a large spinach bake was presented to me and my limbs started trembling at the prospect of utilizing it in a sea of cheezy eggy goodness embedded in a tender flaky crust.

First I made my dough, rolled it out, and slid it into the pan. Then I layered the bottom with grated gruyere, plopped down some sauteed mushrooms and sausage, and topped it with the spinach. I whisked up some eggs with a shitdickload of sour cream, a little water, and salt and pepper. As previously discussed, I live in the best country in the world, i.e. America, and not a total shithole, i.e. France, so my quiches are not some pansy ass custard. Fuck that shit. I poured the America egg mixture in the pie and baked it at 375 degrees until the center of the pie was fully inflated. Keep an eye on it because if the top starts to brown you will want to lightly cover it with tin foil. Serve with a side of smug pretension because you deserve it, unless you live in France. Eat it.

Farmer's Market Pasta

This weekend I checked out the Farmer's Market in Dupont Circle, DC and I figured I would let you in on my amazing food shopping technique and style. Simpletons, such as yourself, make impulse purchases based on the pushiest dickhead farmer with the most obnoxious voice and attitude. Subsequently, they end up buying a giant fish head, an expired jar of ricotta, and some crappy flowers. Enjoy your dinner, dumbasses. I, on the other hand, make my way through the entire market before I purchase anything. If I see something I think may not be there on my way back, I ask them to hold it for me. If I end up not wanting it in the end, fuck it that's their problem now. Once I explore the whole market, it's time to envision a meal and purchase the requisite ingredients.

I found ground boar and made meatballs with Spanish black radish, garlic, and crushed fancy pants crackers. Then I diced up some piacenti porchetta, pan fried it with buna-shimeji mushrooms, poured it over spaghetti, and topped it with the meatballs. They only had that fake ass hippie whole wheat pasta so this spaghetti is from the gourmet market CVS. You can go ahead and spend the rest of your sad pathetic life attending every Farmer's Market you can in a vain attempt to find these particular ingredients or you can pull your ugly misshapen head out of your fat ass and think for yourself. Eat it.