September | 2013 | Pen & Palate

Article

Spanish Tortilla Sandwich

illustration: tram nguyen

It’s been a long time since I was any kind of student, but I still can’t let go of the thrill of that age-old autumnal back-to-school feeling. I will forever associate the fall with a trip to J.C. Penney’s for a nice new turtleneck set and a lavish first-day-of-school brown bag lunch, complete with homemade chocolate chip cookies baked fresh that morning. I am not really a lunch person, generally, but there is little I love more than the occasional decadent midday meal.

No one does a decadent midday meal better than (sweeping generalization alert:) the Spanish. I went to Spain for the first time a couple summers ago, and it took me awhile to wrap my head around the sight of so many people hanging out at cafes in the middle of the day, sharing a bottle of wine, and eating an enormous, carb-soaked meal. Despite my initial alarm, I adjusted quite nicely to this custom; after only a few days, I was a champion long luncher-and-subsequent-afternoon napper.

Article

How to Start a Grease Fire

illustration: tram nguyen

So you want to start a grease fire in your apartment?* Okay! It’s pretty easy, if you are committed to abiding by a certain set of rules.

First, be blithely overconfident in your intuitive abilities as a chef. You may go to the beach, for instance, and eat a delicious oyster po’boy, and then you may think, “Of course I can replicate this; I am quite handy in the kitchen.” Decide you will make some po’boys next weekend for lunch.

Article

The Pies of Summer

illustration: tram nguyen

I don’t get people who say they hate summer. What? You don’t you like being happy? Tan? Dressing in slightly inappropriate outfits, just shy of mutton dressed as lamb? I just want to shake these miserable souls. By the time July rolls around, Chicago transforms into another city entirely. I love riding down the Lake Front Path on my bicycle in the summer, cruising past the absurd non-native palm trees that miraculously appear every June, pop-up stands selling aguas frescas and sweet juicy mangoes dusted with chili powder, and bikinied beach babes anointing themselves with coconut oil. As I watch the paddle boarders in the distant horizon, looking like so many perfect, tan, Jesuses walking on water, I remember that this is the reason I’ve decided to live in a place that is a completely unfit for human habitation six months out of the year.

I’ve been gorging myself on the best of summer produce, in the manner of a lab rat that has had it’s hypothalamus removed and can no longer tell the difference between hungry and full. All year long, I wait for and dream about the blueberries and peaches and Oh My God the tomatoes, which I consume by the pounds and pounds as soon as late summer arrives. Even as I bite into that perfect summer tomato, my joy is tempered by the fact that the pleasure is fleeting. That the season will be over in a few short weeks and it will soon be cold and gray and I will never be happy again.

Article

Lemon Basil Roast Chicken

illustration: tram nguyen

Last week at the community garden, I found this leafy thing in my little raised bed that looked a bit like basil but it could have been a weed. Whatever it was, I didn’t plant it. I wasn’t sure, so naturally I stuck it in my mouth. What’s the worst that could happen right? It’s organic!

Article

Chocolate Chip Ginger Cookies

illustration: tram nguyen

Back in college, I worked at this very magical scone shop called Kim’s Kitchen. Kim’s was a tiny place in Evanston, Illinois, where college kids and high school youths came together in the late afternoon hours to gossip and bake. It was a cozy, familial place on a leafy suburban street, and the proprietress was a stern but maternal woman who taught her young staff things like how to chop an onion and which brand of boxed wine is the highest quality. Kim also taught us to bake, sort of, but mostly she just gave us a recipe and told us not to mess up. Which we usually did anyway, because we were very busy gossiping.