Gooey. Fried. Apples.

Gooey. Fried. Apples.

My ex loved to cook. Still does, I’m sure, but we don’t talk like that. Me? Not so much. Before him, I never knew the glory that is French Toast made with challah bread or how much tastier scrambled eggs are with a dash of onion powder (or that onion powder is even a thing).

I’d also never heard of a Dutch Baby.

*wipes screen after tongue-kissing this picture from Cookin’ Canuck*

For those of you not in the know, a Dutch Baby (a.k.a. German Pancake) is like a regular pancake, but baked in the oven. Kind of like if a pancake and a popover had a tasty baby–a baby that’s even tastier covered in gooey fried apples.

 

If you’re looking for the perfect addition to your challah French Toast and onion-y eggs, I highly recommend this recipe from Cookin’ Canuck!

Ingredients:

  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 tbsp granulated sugar
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg 
  • 1 tsp ground ginger 
  • 2/3 cup half-and-half
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 2 tbsp unsalted butter
  • 1 1/4 lb (3 to 4 large) Gala or Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/2-inch slices 
  • 3 tbsp packed brown sugar 
  • 1 1/2 tsp fresh lemon juice
  • Powdered sugar

[Quick interruption from yours truly: I’m not a fan of nutmeg, so I replace that and the ginger with cinnamon…LOTS of cinnamon…in both the batter and the apples.

I’m also heavy-handed with the butter and brown sugar. I have a the-more-the-merrier philosophy with those two ingredients in pretty much any recipe.

As for the apples, peeling them is hard. Okay, not hard, per se….but tedious and time consuming. This is where my ex came in handy.]

Directions:

  1. Place an oven rack in the upper-middle position and preheat the oven to 500 degrees F.
  2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, granulated sugar, salt, nutmeg, and ground ginger. In a medium bowl, whisk together half-and-half, eggs, and vanilla extract. Pour the half-and-half mixture into the flour mixture and whisk until smooth, without lumps.
  3. In a 10-inch nonstick ovenproof skillet set over medium-high heat, melt the butter. Add the apples and brown sugar. Cook, stirring frequently, until the apples are golden brown, about 10 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in lemon juice. Pour the batter around the edges of the pan and then over top of the apples.
  4. Place the skillet into the oven and immediately turn the heat to 425 degrees F. Bake until the pancake is brown and it has puffed above the edges of the skillet, 15 to 18 minutes. Using a rubber spatula, loosen the edges of the pancake from the skillet and invert the pancake onto a serving platter. Sift powdered sugar over the top of the pancake and cut it into wedges. Serve immediately.

My very first Dutch Baby–made by me!

Hugs n’ stuff!

Everly Lucas

 

The Trouble with Riverdale

The Trouble with Riverdale

Hello, spicy people! My name is Everly Lucas. I live in Philly (Go Eagles!), where I work in health care by day and write romance by night. Not only am I new to the Spice Aisle, but I’m new to the whole blogging thing, altogether. You guys seem trustworthy, though, so I’ve decided to come at this from a place of total honesty.  And being honest, I have to confess…I’m a binger.

I don’t mean food. (Okay, that’s a lie. Don’t hand me a box of Entenmann’s crumb top donuts and expect to find anything but an empty box the next day.) No, in this post, I’m talking about TV.

Sure, a lot of people binge-watch shows. It’s a thing now. Heck, it’s an actual, legit word, recognized by Merriam Webster and everything. But there are different levels of binging.

Say your favorite store is having a sale. As a casual binger, you might walk out having spent more than you planned. Double, even. You’ll wake up the next day and cringe when you recall the sizable new dent in your checking account.

The compulsive binger, on the other hand, won’t be able to leave until she has ALL THE THINGS…and no more money.

Yeah, I’m that second kind. But with TV.

It all started with Buffy.

I don’t remember why I chose this show over all the others on Netflix. I’d never watched it when it originally aired, and the first season didn’t even do much for me. I mean…the clothes…that hair… But my dirty crush on Rupert Giles kept me coming back, and by the end of episode twelve, I was hooked. Within six months, I watched all seven seasons at least seven times. And it didn’t stop there.

Next up was Vampire Diaries. Then Veronica Mars. Charmed. Skins. Reign. IT Crowd. I watched them, re-watched them, and watched them some more. My personal best (or worst, depending on your point of view) was Supernatural: eleven seasons in three weeks. And I’m about to finish season eight for the third time.

Which brings us to Riverdale

Some shows are best consumed slowly, with a week or more between bites to allow your taste buds to fully process each new mind-blowing shocker or intense emotion. Then there’s Riverdale, which is juicy and delicious and so, so bad for you, and even though it tastes kinda funny, you never want to stop munching on it…except you have to because they haven’t made all the episodes yet and OMG I’M SO ADDICTED.

Between Luke Perry and Skeet Ulrich as sexy dads and a younger bunch of mostly unknown actors, the cast is strange and wonderful at the same time. And the new take on these classic characters is less bubblegum, more Halloween-candy-with-razor-blades-tucked-inside.

Riverdale dad candy

Betty is a straight mess wrapped in cashmere and pearls. Jughead is deep and introspective and has incongruously omniscient narrator powers. Archie is a total anti-hero—not the dark and sexy, amoral kind, but the semi-well meaning yet ineffectual doof kind…which somehow works for him (especially in season two). And Veronica is the perfect mix of vulnerability and badassness, and I’ve decided she’s my new best friend.

It hurts—physically hurts—that I can’t devour and re-devour two-hundred episodes of this show right this second. I’m jonesing hard. Shakes and everything. Go ahead, organize my intervention and cart my ass to Riverdale rehab.

I’m not sure if this was more of a recommendation or a warning. I’ll let you decide.

Hugs ‘n stuff!

Everly