Ugh, yes, I must leave you again. In two hours, I’ll be headed off to New York (do people still call it the Big Apple? I’ll be sure to say that a lot out there), and I won’t return until Saturday evening. If it’s any consolation, I’m not as jovial about taking this much time off for the project as I have been in the past, now that I’m becoming sliiiightly panicked about how much I still have to left to cook in the next four months.
So the bad news: I’m gone for this week. The good news: Maybe funny stories from New York! And losing another week is only going to make the coming weeks more chaotic. Oh, god, I really don’t even want to think about what’s waiting for me when I return.
To hold you over, here is something I wrote about the strangest thing I saw this weekend. And, to find out what I think about New York in REAL TIME, follow me on Twitter! There, how’s that for self-promotion?
Okay, bye. I miss you already.
This one is so simple. Insanely simple. But we had to make it at some time, so why not today? Cacio e Pepe, an old Italian classic. Gwyneth doesn’t put a new spin on it at all, so I’m not sure what it’s really doing in her cookbook, taking up a full page. And now it’s taking up a full blog post. So we’re both cheating! Neat! 
When your mom yells at you via a blog comment to cook more, you know you’re doing something wrong. Added to that is the fact that summer has suddenly come to an end, and the realization that I neglected to make gazpacho all season. Plus, I had a party to go to this weekend. So, for all these reasons: Gazpacho was made on Saturday night. 
Today’s recipe is relatively simple and unexciting. (And if that intro doesn’t grab you, I don’t know what will.) You see, last night was a big night in my nerdy life, my equivalent of the way some people feel about the Super Bowl or, heck, even the Westminster Dog Show. It was, of course, the premiere of another season of Survivor. (Yes, I still watch the show most of you gave up on nine years ago. And not only that, but I participate in weekly viewing parties! Just like the elderly!) So instead of slaving away in the kitchen for six hours, I had to get down to business and whip something up quickly, so we could settle in front of the TV like the lethargic slobs we are on Wednesday nights six months out of the year. 
All my cooking plans have been thrown out the window in lieu of camping this weekend (if you never hear from me again, I’ve been eaten by a bear), but I have some even worse news for you: Gwyneth is preparing a second cookbook (thanks a lot for alerting me to this disaster, Marie). NOOOOOOOOOOO. I can’t keep doing this crap forever! It will destroy me. I’m feeling very despondent today, people.
If there’s one complaint I’ve had with “My Father’s Daughter” this whole time (haha: “one complaint”), it is that most of the recipes are too basic and intuitive to even fully count as recipes (or at least recipes from a $30 cookbook). Pizza = dough, tomato sauce, toppings. Salad = lettuce, dressing. Burgers = cheese, meat, bun. Simplicity, however, is not the issue with Fudgy Chocolate Brownies. Not at all. You see, these brownies are insane.
The Danny/Gwyneth Project 