I hate blenders. The Magic Bullet is not a blender, not in the traditional sense, it is a vast improvement and now a central part of my kitchen. Blenders seem to keep getting bigger, they take up more and more space in the kitchen and get harder to clean. The bullet is tiny like a coffee grinder, yet manages to get the job done in less time than its larger competitors. Blenders advertise how many speeds they have, each button listed with a different and more spectacular sounding name than the last, each only serving to make the blender louder and increase the smell of burning motor. The Bullet has one speed, and that is all it needs. One of the most notable features is that it seems upside down as compared with a normal blender. This serves several important purposes. When you screw the blades on the top of the container full of blendables and turn it over, it is airtight. This means that while you are blending, air and particulates aren't shooting up out of the top, so you don't end up with that resonance that causes all of the food to just get stuck at the top. It also ...

There is a story behind this chili. The first time I made chili, it was for a chili cookoff. I'm not a big fan of beans, so I decided to make a chili without beans, and of course, like everything on this site, this is a chili without onions. I decided that what I really needed was to replace the missing ingredients with something fitting that wouldn't seem like filler. I wanted it to be very meaty, which more than makes up for the lack of beans. I wanted the flavor to be fruity and smoky, like pipe tobacco, but fiery enough to make you think you had just dropped the coals on your tongue. Going to our local Co-op, I found my answers. Dried cherries (nothing added) and Fresh, rather green mangoes. They also had a fresh shipment of beautiful red, fiery Fresno peppers. As I picked one up, I noticed the produce sticker with its SKU#: 666. Chili of the beast was conceived. I picked up quite a few other ingredients while I was out. If you plan to make this, you should read the full process first so you know what you are getting into. Lets start with the meat: Turn ...

This one is in honor of Stanza over at CookingOnSundays, who couldn't make it today, but the people must be fed! True to Stanza fashion, this one is a soup made from stuff I had sitting in the freezer in the garage (I don't have a closet) for too long, and that is the way it should be made, but with no onions! Any time you are looking for something in one of your many food storage options and you find there is just too much stuff you have to move out of the way, it is time to make some variant of what I erroneously call Jambalaya. Every year, we plant a garden in the back yard, and impatiently wait for all the little sprouts to sprout, and then spend a portion of each day urging the cats to keep the gophers out, and yelling at the cats that the garden is not a litter box. Then we complain that there are snails and we need to get the chickens to eat them, which ends with us flapping our arms as we chase the chickens out because they are kicking up the sprouts and eating our lettuce. Somehow, a couple months ...

I was having a discussion about economics with Stanza over at CookingOnSundays, who mentioned the Big Mac Index, which is a method of measuring the purchasing power parity of various currencies by comparing the price of a Big Mac in each country. This got me thinking (of course) about the global infiltration of onions (contained within the Big Mac). It occurs to me that no matter the nationality, if you go look through all the cook books in a book store, unless you are looking at desserts, somewhere in the neighborhood of 90-95% of the recipes contain some form of onion. Unlike the Big Mac, the onion has no branding or sacred cow liabilities, no foreign connotations, and as unbelievable as it may seem,  has managed to infiltrate more places than McDonalds and Starbucks combined. Onions like to keep a low profile. They don't like to be mentioned on labels. As much as my eyes water just thinking about it, perhaps if we could get them more recognition as the perfect purchasing power parity predictor, we could get them noticed for the overused sub-par filler they are. Update: Due to the attention this post has getting, I did  a bit more looking into it ...

Fresno peppers are my favorite fresh pepper. They are fire engine red, and they earn the color. Fresno peppers look a lot like a red jalapeño, but a bit more triangular and less dense. Their flavor is not that different than a red bell, although a bit smokier, and they hold up well to cooking. The heat varies quite a bit, from something you could eat raw if you have a moderate heat tolerance, to something that gives a habanero a run for its money. To prepare them, cut the top, just above the widest point, without cutting into the seed cluster within, and pull on the stem. Toss the cap and pry out the seed clump if it remained in the pepper. Stick  your knife tip down into the open end of the pepper and rotate it a full turn to knock off any additional seeds and shake the seeds out. Slice the pepper intoyour desired shape. If you get the hang of this you can cut them without ever touching anything spicy. You will learn the importance of this quickly if you rub your eyes. There is something special about the heat in this pepper. To see what I mean, try ...

I don't think they exist. Or at least I didn't until recently. Stanza , over at cookingonsundays, has a typically eyebrow raising recipe up this week, which includes a cabbage so large, well, I can't really say since it seems to change size throughout the story, but I'm certain it is bigger than a teapot! I too found a V.O.U.S. this year. It was a giant mangle beet from a farmers market. It only cost me a few bucks, and it was around 18 pounds! You can see Kernal subduing it for me in the above picture. I did a bit of research, and apparently mangle beets are grown mostly as fodder for animals like cattle, but are quite edible. After carrying it home on my shoulder like some prehistoric vegetarian, I chopped it into three pieces. The bottom I juiced and froze in ziplocks for future soup base. The middle I gave to the chickens, who happily stood inside it and hollowed it out. The top I planted, in the hopes that it would grow into a new beet next year. So far, so good.

I'm sure this is violating someones parole, but here we have Snoop making mashed potatoes with Martha Stewart. I'm not sure which recipe would kill you faster, but I think I'm with Snoop. He may have some unconventional additives, but come on Martha, white pepper? Yuck. Try the black. You won't go back.

A blend of my own devising, the Five Pillars of Greatness are like the Army in my war on the Allium menace; first in and last out. I use it in some form in over half of the main dishes I prepare. I don't keep it as a blend, I just reserve a section of the spice cabinet for the unground components, and mix and grind them on demand. I vary the relative quantities, but here is a general starting point:   Cardamon: 1 part (brightness and good cheer) Pink peppercorns: 4 parts (central aroma and top note) Cumin 4 parts (richness and breadth) Cubeb: 2 parts (depth and complexity) Pequin peppers: 4 parts (fire and brimstone) One recipe I'll post here because it is both simple and extremely specialized. This one is only good for Taco Bell tacos or similar fast food. Add 1 tbsp of Five Pillars to three packets of Taco Bell fire packets. The resulting napalm is tasty enough on tacos to make sure those grons never come back!