Simmer Till Done

Frantic or Foodie? Francie says she’s lucky to get a clean shirt on and that the kids are “probably coating the dog with peanut butter” as she types, but I think not. Someone who writes devilish posts like How I Turned My Kids’ Classmates into Cupcakes and My Fruit Smoothies are Enormously Healthy! (almost) has clearly got it together. She frequently proclaims her not-Martha-ness, but would a truly frantic cook mess with Cinnamon Sugar Wontons? Salmon with Orange-Balsamic Glaze? Looks luxe, but Francie’s the real thing; she just manages to capture frazzled and fancy at the same time. And that time is very, very entertaining.

How often do you think about eating?

Only twice a day -

1) when I’m awake, and
2) when I’m not sleeping.

Coffee craving?

I’ve tried to love coffee because it’s the grown up thing to do. Alas, I’m a “Diet-Coke-in-the-morning” girl. It has all the chemicals and none of the vitamins to start your day off right.

Favorite hometown food?

Well, my hometown had a population of 219 so my favorite hometown food was Myrtle’s fried bologna sandwiches. That’s the Myrtle who lived on Main, not the Myrtle who lived on Baker…her bologna sandwiches had ketchup.

Ever been served breakfast in bed?

Yes, if you count the cereal crumbs my kids leave when they’re watching cartoons in our bedroom.

Your absolutely reliable, go-to food for entertaining is:

A chicken with a tux on it that I make dance around the table always cracks me up. Still, others don’t find the joy in it that I do. So for those (air quotes) mature (end air quotes) people, I tend to go overboard for theme parties.

For my husband’s birthday, I turned our back deck into 1920’s trattoria for 20 people. I made 8 different kinds of pasta and set up an Italian soda bar with flavored syrups. I put platters of antipasti, fruit, bread and olive oil next to bottles of wine at each table.

I handmade giant lighted wreaths with grapes and ivy to hang from the ceiling. I decorated the table with red checkered tablecloths and candles in wine bottles. Then Martha Stewart called and told me to get a life.

Food that makes you gag?

Macaroni and cheese. My dad had a hard time taking orders from anyone. I can’t recall how many times Dad came home from yet another job and ended the story with, “…and so I punched him!” Ergo, we ate a lot of food from the food bank, and you would not believe how many glow-in-the-dark generic versions of macaroni and cheese exist (shiver).

Worst kitchen disaster:

That would have to be the time I was 14 and called Brian, a boy in my glass that I had a crush on. I was too embarrassed to ask if he liked me, so I pretended to be my friend Valerie. Unfortunately, I had put a pot of oil on the stove and was heating it to make french fries but promptly forgot it as I tried to forge a love connection. When the kitchen caught fire, I panicked and screamed “Fire! Fire!” into the phone. So this boy promptly called the fire department who sent three siren-blaring firetrucks to come…to my friend Valerie’s house. Sadly, these people were not amused (in order of un-amusedness)

1) Valerie’s parents
2) My dad
3) The fire department.

Three things in your refrigerator right now:

1) Poblano peppers (Looove them!)
2) Fresh cilantro (ditto!)
3) 4 bottles of ketchup

Your idea of a romantic meal is:

1) Not having to cut someone else’s food, and
2) A meal without ketchup

Secret snack of shame?

A pickle, mustard and onion “sundae”…mounds of dill pickles, drizzled with mustard and sprinkled with chopped onion. And no, I’m not pregnant.

Most ambitious thing you’ve ever done in the kitchen:

I’d guess that would be putting out a raging fire (see above.) But as far as cooking is concerned, that would be finding a recipe that makes Spam appetizing enough to make some extra cash in the Spam cookoff. I won. The trick is to hide the Spam. I have no idea why my husband grins at me when I say that.

Best restaurant if you’re not paying:

Um…any? If I’m paying, McDonald’s.

If you were a cocktail, what would you be, and why?

Rum PUNCH (It reminds me of Dad…ah, memories)

(Extra Credit: Where is the world’s best pizza?)

I have no idea. It’s not my job to watch it. Last I heard, it was hitchhiking to spring break.

Tags: Frantic Home Cook, Tell Simmer