I Did a Bad Thing: The Infamous Double Down

Oh my good god, what have I done to myself? I wish I had some means to recommend myself to your sympathies, but the honest truth is that I have been a lazy, grump-a-lump, this month and have no blog posts to show for it. Perhaps this evening's gastronomical adventure was a subconscious attempt at foodie flagellation. I have the sinking sensation that some where, some foodie collective will soon be voting to revoke my membership. Or maybe that feeling is just my stomach. All I can say is that I am sorry, so sorry.

In case you don't know, today, KFC released its newest menu addition, the Double Down sandwich. The Double Down is made up of 2 slices of bacon, 2 slices of cheese and Colonel's sauce stuck between two fried chicken filets. That's right boys and girls, no bun. Apparently, there is just too much fried goodness to accommodate a bun. - Oh, I know. Ew. 

When Boyfriend made the suggestion that we try the "sandwich" a few weeks back, I was sure he was kidding. Little did I know the powerful sway which fried foods hold over his heart (and belly). Witness his unparalleled joy, as he savors the last few bites. ("Homp!") At one point Boyfriend looked at me and said: "This is the first day of the rest of our lives." To which I replied, "Assuming we don't die."

Angry Face

Some of the comments I caught from other Double Down dinners, all of whom were male:

"Awesomeness explosion."

"Dude, what I am about to eat isn't normal." 

"After all that wait, it was totally worth it." 

And Boyfriend's words of wisdom: "When eating a Double Down, always bring a buddy in case of spontaneous heart attack."

Honestly, I have eaten at KFC about four or five times in my life. Being from Massachusetts, what I don't know about the art of frying chicken could probably fill Nats Park. However, if you tend to like the somewhat soggy taste of KFC and deep fried bacon, chances are you'll like this sandwich. All I can say is that it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I doused it in some hot sauce and it was fairly edible. So it's got that going for it, which is nice. 

On the drive home Boyfriend summed up the entire experience succinctly when he said: "This situation will call for constant monitoring for the next two hours. I feel fine now, but I could die in two hours.... or throw up in 45 minutes." 

Risk: An Afternoon of Culinary Domination

OK, I am about to bring you in on a Wicked Cranberry secret. When cooking for people who are not my boyfriend or my immediate family, I am a hot mess. Unless I have made a recipe at least twice (and know where the potential pitfalls are) I won't prepare it for anyone outside my supportive circle. But this day was about Risk, and I knew I had to be bold if I wanted to conquer not only my nervous nellyism, but the hearts, minds and tummies of my opponents. Game on.

Spinach and Artichoke Dip

1 cup (light) mayonnaise
1 cup (light) sour cream
2 cups Asiago cheese, grated

1 14-oz. jar of marinated artichoke hearts, drained and finely chopped
5-6 oz. fresh baby Spinach, sautéed and chopped (or use frozen)
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 medium loaf of sourdough
1 baguette, sliced

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Mix together the first six ingredients in a medium bowl. Hollow out the loaf of sourdough to create a bowl. Reserve the top and insides of the bread bowl. Pour dip into bread bowl, replacing top and bake for 1 hour. Serve with baguette slices and chunks from the inside of the bowl.

I used regular mayo and sour cream, as I was serving it to a bunch of dudes, but Asiago is a strong enough flavor that you could easily sub out light mayo and sour cream and it wouldn't detract from the overall taste.

"Game on," quickly became, "Better safe than sorry." Between you, me and the lamppost, I did, in fact, purchase the ingredients for an auxiliary appetizer, Rachel Ray's Chorizo and Mushroom Queso. (In my defense, I had some extra jalapenos, red onion and cilantro, which would have dressed it up some). However, now I have a lovely bunch of Chorizo sausages for dinner some night this week, because this Artichoke dip was a huge hit. Soon enough, the boys were going at the bread bowl itself, using the hunks of bowl to scrape up any errant bits of dip. Bwha-ha-ha-ha!

After a few hours of gaming, just as my guests were lulled into a beer induced buzz, my boyfriend and I hit them with a one-two, buffalo chicken bites and pasta salad combo. Having soaked cubes of chicken breast in buttermilk and Crystal sauce overnight, my boyfriend dredged them in flour and deep fried them for about 8 minutes a batch, then doused them in butter and Crystal hot sauce. Yum. (These bites are a Fry Fest original recipe, (care of our Master Guest Chef SO) from our annual deep-frying theme party).

Sadly, the pasta salad (here), which included mozzarella, sun-dried tomatoes, fresh tomatoes and olives tasted bland to me. I even substituted some of the oil in which the sun-dried tomatoes were packed for a portion of the olive oil, but to no avail. Although I wasn't wild about it, it was a good, cool match for the hot and spicy buffalo bites. P.S. The boys seemed to enjoy it.

Finally, the pièce de résistance! Peach and Blackberry Shortcakes with Blackberry Cream. All who remained, the few, the brave, the hungry, were taken down by this dessert. I bided my time, rising early the day before to beat the berry lines at the Court House Farmers' Market. I braved the overly moist shortcake batter (too much buttermilk, ack!) which stuck to everything, abandoned my cookie cutters as useless, formed little shortcake patties in my hands and peeled, pitted and sliced 2 pounds of peaches. And it was totally worth it. Not only was this dessert fantastic, I have a little filling and blackberry puree left over. Ice cream toppings anyone?

Vacation Edition: OBX, NC

Seafood Spectacular! That's right, folks, I got down with my bad, raw bar self. I also ate enough shrimp to satiate a small whale. My foodcation continued, perhaps without the same level of success as the Cape, but there were still many good eats to be had. I ate 15 oysters in one sitting! Awful Arthur's Oyster Bar had huge, fresh and flavorful oysters (and didn't skimp on the portions), but the spiced shrimp were a little, "meh," and the bartender in the upstairs lounge seemed a little inexperienced. (In Arthur's defense, I tried the spiced shrimp at Dirty Dick's Crab House, by which Arthur's suffered in comparison. More on that later).

In the lounge, I ordered a Blue Moon to nurse while we waited for a table. The bartender said they didn't have any orange slices, but would I like some orange juice? -- Do people do this? - I paused for a minute and said, "Sorry, I was confused. I thought you just offered me orange juice with my beer." To which he replied, "Yeah, I did." It was just too ridiculous, so of course I responded, "Oh, yes, I'll have some." (?!) There was a split second when I contemplated pouring the shot of orange juice, which was served in a paper, 8-ounce Dixie cup, into my beer, but opted to just carry the thing awkwardly around with me until we were seated. Am I missing something? Was I meant to sip the juice as a chaser with every drink of my beer? Please, if you know, pass that knowledge this way. Moving on...

I have an embarrassing confession to make. I was warned it might happen. The signs were there all along the way. But I couldn't help myself; I got crabs at Dirty Dick's. OK, so the real shocker here is not my little confession, it is the gift shop in the restaurant, which sells - at eye-level with small children - thong underwear, printed with pictures of sultry, well-endowed lady-shrimps with the words: "Peel me. Eat me." W-O-W. Is there anything left to say? The King crab legs were good (I'd never had them before) and the spiced (peel and eat) shrimp was very tasty, but the atmosphere was that of an ice cream parlor in hell, with a huge, blue-lit bar in the center and checkerboard tablecloths on the tables. This place really needs to decide if it is a lame, dirty joke, or a purveyor of family-friendly-fish-fare. Needless to say, it did not merit a picture. Whew.

Tortugas' Lie

Delicious! Our last night my boyfriend and I stumbled on this "local favorite." We split an order of Conch fritters, because I had never had Conch. It was a little hard to tell whether or not I like Conch, with all the friedness it was coated in, but I think I did. Sadly, I can't be any more descriptive than that. However, my entree, the Coco Loco Chicken, while also fried, was full of flavors and textures. The chicken was covered with flakes of coconut and served with an addictive lime-curry dipping sauce, freshly complementing and cooling the hearty crunch of the fried coconut. If the chicken looks a little funny in the photo, it is because, yes, I had to have a bite before I took out my camera to capture this chicken macaroon. Like many of the dishes on the menu, the chicken came with rice, black beans and salsa, which I enjoyed stirring together and covering with my remaining lime-curry sauce. Delish!

Now that I have spent a large portion of my disposable income for the summer, it is back to home cooked casseroles and cakes. Fortunately, I have finally settled my dispute with Bon Appetit and new additions will be rolling in monthly. Additionally, I have a few cooking classes in the fall, which should provide new directions, even if it is in the dessert department.

Dessert Before Breakfast?

Saturday, I rolled out of bed around seven, which was impressive since I usually can't muster that much forward momentum until closer to eight on weekdays. Somehow I managed to get showered, dressed and down to my farmers' market around eight. Sadly, my favorite growers had not arrived or were still setting up, so I made my way down to Jasper sans delicious apple and freshly baked bread.

L'Academie de Cuisine is in Bethesda, so I had a beautiful drive up through the Palisades neighborhood. Man, those houses are gorgeous. I bet their kitchens are huge and sun-filled.

From the outside L'Acadmie looks like a corner bistro with a yellow-trimmed, many-paned bay window. Since I attended the demonstration class, we were set up in a room on the first floor, which was decorated in what I think of as a French countryside palette of soft blues, yellows, and greens, not unlike my mother's kitchen. (Sadly, like myself, my mother has felt the frustration of being constrained by the limited confines of a tiny kitchen). The three-hour class breezed by while our instructor Chef Nichole Ferrigno taught us how to candy oranges, make a flawless caramel sauce and peppered us with helpful hints about baking and entertaining. Most of the prep work and measuring had been done ahead of time by the lovely three assistants, who would have looked more at home at a church bake sale rather than in a teaching kitchen. Frankly, their feathery, white-gray hair and plump grandmotherly appearances were at odds with everything I associate with grandmothers and cooking. Instead of being culinary and cultural experts, waiting to impart generations or knowhow and can-do in the kitchen, these ladies seemed a little uneasy finishing up for our chef as she demonstrated the first few servings of any one dish. I realize my preconceived notions may be unfair and a tall order to make of all grandmothers, but it is what it is. (My grandmothers both hated to cook. Go figure).

The menu was: Mini Cheesecakes with Raspberry Sauce, Apple Spice Cakes with Maple Glaze and Candied Walnuts, Chocolate Brioche Pudding with Warm Orange Marmalade, and Warm Banana-Chocolate Wontons with Caramel Sauce.

The spice cake, I must say, was far superior to my recipe, which is a) not really mine, and b) a total disaster. I'm looking forward to making it on my own.

The cheesecake truffles weren't really doing it for me. Plain cheesecake really has to be something special to get my interested. I must prefer flavored cheesecakes, like key lime, ginger or chocolate. However, I did go to the famous Junior's once in high school. I don't know whether it was having cheesecake with my bacon and eggs that did it, but I seem to remember that experience being pretty kick-ass.

The Brioche pudding - oh my - was so delicious. I have never met a bread pudding I didn't like. It was a little denser than what I usually make, but I invariably substitute croissants for whatever bread is listed in recipes I try. And I have never made a chocolate one before.

The real winner of the day was the Banana-Chocolate Wontons, which were deep fried, covered in a cinnamon-sugar mix, dipped in caramel sauce and embarrassingly elicited a mumbled, but audible, sigh of deliciousness from me. I didn't realize that you could purchase wonton wrappers in packages that look not unlike Kraft Singles cheese slices. This recipe couldn't be easier. Slice up some bananas, bust up some chocolate, stuff it into a little crab-rangoon-looking purse and deep fry for a couple of minutes. (Fry Fest III menu addition?) I think I actually felt the back of my knees tingle on these ones, folks. Whew.

All in all, it was a great class. I'm sure I will benefit from all the little tips and hints the chef added along the way. I think I'll try a few more demonstrations before I go all-in and commit myself to an evening of potential kitchen catastrophe in front of a room full of strangers.