Chef Scotty Wagner

Showered Upon, The Best Man I Know, Steak & Mashers,

2012-01-21T16:41:00.000-08:00

"I love Nature partly because she is not man, but a retreat from him. None of his institutions control or pervade her. There a different kind of right prevails. In her midst I can be glad with an entire gladness. If this world were all man, I could not stretch myself, I should lose all hope. He is constraint, she is freedom to me. He makes me wish for another world. She makes me content with this.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 21^st, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0QGJTdl7-0&feature=related

It’s raining and has been since early last night, this is a good thing and commonly referred to as “douching the streets of L.A.” I find it a bit odd that a rainy day in California is about as common as seeing an opossum hopping along the 405 freeway on a pogostick. My Midwestern upbringing was quite the opposite with showers, thunderstorms, lightening . . . I think we referred to it as “God’s bowling again” Of course, at this time of the year the precipitation comes down in sheets of bleached out snow and bombarding hail . . nothing that I miss that’s for sure.

Tomorrow is my father’s birthday, we were both born on the 22^nd(April for me) and I feel it appropriate to channel this entry in gratuitous expression of what this man has given me. He is beyond Harrison Ford handsome, an outdoorsman through and through, extraordinarily hard-working, devoted father, loyal husband (although that department he has been less than appreciated), unselfish, contributing community member, gracious, humbled volunteer, brilliant, logical, practical, a carpenter or better put “jack of all trades”, accomplished professional and respected boss. My dad is the best man that I know of, which makes it hardly fair to compare him with other fathers that I have known, as they fall well short of my papa’s worst day. It is my unrequited love for my father that has pushed me to excel as I live so much to earn his respect and praise. I strive to be a but a fraction of the individual that he has always been, I desire to be that unprecedented pillar of support for all who embrace me as friend, family, employee and colleague.

Two stand-out similarities that we share in common is this unwavering perfectionist nature descending from some word that exceeds the context of “dedicated” and the struggles that we’ve undergone as being cut by some of those dearest to our hearts. This hero of epic proportion has earned every ounce of respect that has ever been showered upon him and more often than not . . .most of his deeds slipped by unglorified and underappreciated. The safer route being my Dad’s calculated, worrisome way & me being that unmanageably obtuse son bent on doing things by impulse and belief – we have both arrived at similar outcomes, we’ve both endured our share of undressed wounds and we both characteristically like our drinks stiff & untainted by sweet corn syrupy additions . . . God damn it’s exhausting out there in the Ocean of life, spending more time under beseeching current than surfing the majestic wave above. I don’t think either of us anticipated having to start over so many times let alone coping with the disappointment of the cause.

I have tested my Dad’s wisdom most often to my own penalty, the most recent example of my insubordination delivered August 2010 when my father forbid me from signing the LLC partnership papers that were drafted by my nearly not beloved business partner. My papa saw it, but I was too far committed to my employees, the landlord, the very essence of my word . . . so what did I do? I married with the devil and look where it got me – I’ve lost everything . . . again! Dad didn’t bother to tell me “I told you so!” He didn’t want to be right for my sake. And now, even though I went against his pleading . . it is he who has offered everything to fight this overshadowing evil, empting his pockets & plundering his reserves to fund my declarative claim to justice. It’s no wonder that tears rain true and genuine whenever my mind wanders to images of my father. I love you dad and couldn’t be any prouder to be your son . . . maybe I’d be that much further ahead if I’d listen better.

Dad always loved Whoppers, Almond-Joy bars, mint-chocolate chip ice cream and lemon meringue pie but his real love is more on the savory side of things – steak & potatoes sort. So today I forefeit this recipe in honor of Mr. Gregory Arthur Wagner for being the best damn dad in my world! May the bruises heal quickly, the steak bleed tenderly & unlimited, appreciative love flow into your life!

With endless gratitude,

Scotty

Black & Blue Filet Mignon with Roasted Garlic Mashers

Ingredients

4 portobello mushroom caps, 4 ounces each
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup crumbled blue cheese
1/4 cup crumbled walnuts
4 (6-ounce) filet mignons
Montreal steak spice mix (or something similar)
1 tablespoon olive oil
Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes, recipe follows
1 cup Worcestershire sauce, recipe in 1/16 blog . . I think?
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley leaves

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Season the portabellas on both sides with the salt and pepper. Place on an aluminum foil lined sheet pan and drizzle with the olive oil. Place in the oven and roast until tender, about 30 minutes. Remove from the oven and sprinkle 1/4 cup of the blue cheese onto the center of each mushroom, along with 1 tablespoon of walnuts. Place in the oven and roast until the cheese is melted, about 5 minutes.

Set a 10-inch sauté pan over medium-high heat. Season the filets with the spice rub and 1 teaspoon of salt. Add the olive oil to the saute pan and place the filets in the pan. Sear the beef until well caramelized, about 3 minutes. Turn over and continue to cook on the second side for an additional 3 minutes. Place in the oven and roast until cooked to medium-rare, about 10 minutes. To serve, spoon a pile of potatoes on 4 entree plates, top with the roasted portobellos and ladle the homemade Worcestershire sauce around the mushroom. Place the beef alongside. Garnish with the chopped parsley.

Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes:

3 heads garlic, split in 1/2
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 pounds potatoes, peeled and diced
1 stick butter, cubed
1/2 to 3/4 cup cream cheese
Salt and white pepper

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F.

Place the garlic on a sheet of aluminum foil, season with salt & pepper, drizzle with olive oil & place in a pan. Roast for 35 to 40 minutes, or until tender and golden brown. Remove from the oven and cool. Squeeze or remove the garlic cloves from the head and place in a small bowl. Using a fork, mash the garlic until smooth.

Place the potatoes in a pot of salted water and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook the potatoes until fork tender, about 12 to 15 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and drain. Place the potatoes back in the pot and return to the heat. Stir the potatoes, constantly, for 2 to 3 minutes to dehydrate the potatoes. Remove the potatoes from the heat. Add the garlic and butter. Using a hand-held masher, mash the butter and garlic into the potatoes. Add enough cream cheese until desired texture is achieved. The potatoes should still be sort of lumpy. Season the potatoes with salt and pepper.

Spamrizo vs Raiden, Progression & Packing more than a Suitcase

2012-01-20T18:06:00.000-08:00

“There is danger that we lose sight of what our friend is absolutely, while considering what she is to us alone.”
― Henry David Thoreau

Janurary 20^th, 2012

It seems to be pouring opportunity as of late and with that has come the cultivation of such evidence & newborn witnesses – I can’t help but have a big grin on my face right now. This is probably all supported by my luncheon with the fabulously Ms. Lucy Lomuro & the artistic goddess Andrea Welton, both of whom I’ve known as my employees and friends for over five years. Reminiscing is no longer painful, the chapters pages are worn beyond recognition and I’ve started reading a new book entirely; I’ve handed off the tattered 2011 biography to my lawyer – that’s what he’s paid for after all.

Today was rather brisk with hints of a rather distant daffodil ridden Spring; refreshing would adequately describe the scenery of this 2012 infancy. Chartering a trip to Marco Island, Florida has my toes tingling in anticipation of seeing my mother & step-father. There comes a point when “getting out of here” is needed by all of us – refresh the perspective, altercate the ‘tude, jump start the overdrive. I’ve never been a big fan of Marco Island with it’s painfully pokey seashell ridden beaches and ancestral habitants; probably doesn’t help that Key West & the enchanting Caribbean islands are its neighborly competitors. Mom – what the f’k were you thinking . . . that’s rhetorical, I’ll answer for Mama: Marco Island is the white picket beachfront condo complex heralding itself as the runner-up residence of Midwestern retirees . . and yes that have more than their fair share of golf courses, knitting lessons, craft fairs and bridge tournaments – all very attractive qualities to a Wisconsin native fleeing a very bitter winter.

With a vacation nearly on the books, a potential job offer on the table and a lawsuit that just scored a few aces – this Friday will mark my New Year beginning. Have you already forgotten your resolutions? I’m not sure I even finished calibrating my 2012 revolver let alone taken it out of its holster and unloaded a few trial rounds at the shooting range. I guess y’all know that I wasn’t exactly at my peak these past few weeks and there was hardly any merit for celebration. No longer treading water, no longer occupying a hopeless space of regret, no longer eclipsed by what I had; I am whole, breathing with ease and ready to release the fury like my favorite character in Mortal Kombat . . you know that rice paper hat, cloaked in blue tapestry like fabric, fluorescent eyed warrior that could launch his entire body vertically at his opponents & emit a vaporous ball of energy. Oh how I adore fantasy.

Mr. Wilson has just suggested dinner at Weho’s Eleven, he knows it’s one of my favorite joints for many more reasons than the happy hour food & drink. Should a great friend he has been, how did I ever get so lucky to have such amazing friends? With that said, I best get some wash started here or I’m going to be going commando (that means wearing no underwear Mom & the other Marco island readersJ)

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Marco Island Scallops & Spamrizo

Ingredients

1 can french-fried onion rings
4 ounces grated Gruyere
12 (4-inch) scallop shells
3 tablespoons butter
36 bay scallops
1 can Poke Salet Greens*, drained and heated or substitute canned spinach or collard greens
12 ounces spamrizo, recipe follows
*available in some markets

Directions

Preheat the broiler.

Add the onion rings and grated cheese to a food processor, and pulse until it forms a crumbly mixture.

Clean the scallop shells, and spray them with non-stick cooking spray.

Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the butter, and let melt. Add the scallops, and saute until golden brown on 1 side, about 2 to 3 minutes. Flip the scallops with tongs or a fish spatula, and sear the other side until golden brown and cooked through. Remove pan from the heat and keep scallops warm.

Spoon enough heated Poke Salet greens into each shell to make a 1/8-inch high layer on the bottom of each shell.

Add approximately 2 tablespoons of heated spamrizo on top of the greens.

Place 3 scallops on top of the meat in each shell, and top with about 2 tablespoons of the onion/cheese mixture.

Place the shells under the broiler until the cheese mixture turns golden brown, about 2 minutes. Serve the shells hot on a bed of rock salt

Spamrizo:

1 can SPAM(r)
2 to 3 small links cooked chorizo, or more to taste

In a processor place the SPAM(r) and chorizo until just blended. Do not over-mix the meat.

Ants in the Chefwork Pants, A Worthy Meal, Decadent Mousse

2012-01-19T14:17:00.000-08:00

“It is not enough to be busy; so are the ants. The question is: What are we busy about?”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 19^th 2012

I just returned from a rather impromptu meeting with a very successful and established company based out of Orange County. My spirits are high to say the least. As an entrepreneur of the last 10 years I should establish that I sought out the intriguing path of ownership merely because it had become obvious that my talents, ambition and work drive would only continue to have been exploited should I have stayed on as an employee at any given enterprise. I always treated any business as if it were my own and subsequently not enough of those business owners took the extra steps needed to show such appreciation for my efforts be that in the form of compensation, gratitude or generosity. For the first time in years, I now consider the possibility of going to work for another institution. Why you might ask? Well let me tell you . . .

These two gentlemen clearly needed no pushing or prodding in understanding my worth. Their diversified food service company they have built is well structured and delivers a product above all competitors not to mention that they are family owned and operated. All of these qualities I hold dear to my heart and for the moment . . . there is a possibility that patiently awaiting the right opportunity was the right thing to do! Imagine that! After unfolding my desires to the Universe, evaluating countless possibilities, turning down numerous partnerships . . that the right thing would finally present intself? There are no guarantees in life, but I remain optimistic that indeed this might be the next path for Chef Scotty.

What would this mean? The cookbooks would still roll-out, this personal journal would persist no less than a gnat at a summer’s picnic and yes, I’ll still be making that forever elusive entrance on Food Network but what it truly means – I would have a solid purpose again, something to sink my teeth into and generate fruitful results! The last few weeks have been all too inhibitive, wandering is not natural to my stature, I must do more than regain my footing . . . I’m ready to sprint like a cheetah in the open Sahara and ain’t no gazelle gonna escape me!

So with a touch of positivity, I should offer up some serious culinary tribute today. How’s about a passionate Italian meal of both the savory sort & sweet temptation? Make sure you take the time to shop properly, nurture each ingredient into passive collaboration and evoke senses that endeavor to flourish beyond the known palette of persuasion - I will surely follow suit!

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

A Tuscan Tribute Dinner

This Italian stallion meal involves more than just reading a recipe – shopping at an italian market will inspire you as well as save you loads of cooking time! Prepare everything the day before, be organized, have a bit of trust in yourself, utilizing all of your senses . . . and you’ll surely craft a night to remember

Your Basic Italian Shopping Ingredients:

Extra Virgin Olive Oil (truffle oil please!)

5 Fresh Pasta Sheets (goggle your local pasta maker)

Wild Rocket (organic arugula)

Porcini Mushroom

Mascarpone

Balsamic Vinegar

Italian Nosh Foods: Grapes, Proscuitto & Melon, House dried Tomatoes, Oil Cured Olives, Fresh Basil, Cheeses, Fresh Ciabatta Bread, Anti-pasti, Artichoke Hearts . . . don’t forget the Vino!

For the Ricotta Filling

Makes more than one dinner’s worth (individual freeze pasta pillows then place in freezer bag – these are great for dinner parties)

1 Tub Whole Ricotta, drained & pressed

4 Cups Shredded Provolone

¼ C Garlic, minced

¼ C Tarragon, chopped

½ C Basil, chopped

3 Tbsp. Cracked Black Pepper

1/8 Cup Lemon Juice

¼ Kosher Salt (or to taste)

1 tsp Cayenne

4 Eggs

Directions: To make filling – press ricotta 1 day prior by wrapping in cheese cloth or lining any linen towel in a colander (this will extract the unwanted extra water). In a separate bowl, beat 3 eggs and then add the ricotta and remaining ingredients.

Assembly: Now for the pillows (google: ravioli making to get an idea1), In a bowl make an “egg wash” (beat up that final egg & add 1/3 cup of water to it). Brush every pasta sheet with eggwhite wash, cut rectangle into 8 squares and spoon 3-4 tablespoons of filling inside. Then fold top half down, bottom half up and both sides in – pinching to ensure they stay boding the two blissfully – this is a rustic ravioli so don’t worry too much about the form. Layer with semolina & parchment to separate (freezing the surplus for later dinner parties or romantic escapades of the dining table)

For cooking: throw some salt in to roaring pot of hot water, fresh pasta only takes about two minutes and 3 pieces per person is more than sufficient (cook a few extras in case you break one!). Being careful to remove from the water, place on a plate and coat with olive oil, wrap in plastic if you need it to hold for 5-10 minutes. for your lover

Porcini Browned Butter Sauce

2 Cups Porcini Mushrooms – (or substitute any forest mushrooms)

2 Tbsp Garlic – minced

2 Tbsp Fennel Seed – toasted

4 lbs Butter

3 Tbsp Lemon Juice

¼ C of freshly chopped basil & tarragon

Salt & Pepper to taste

Directions: Oil pan and sauté garlic with fennel seed, add mushrooms and cook off remaining shroom juice. Add Butter and simmer for 30 minutes or until milk solids are browned. Add lemon juice, fresh herbs and finish with salt and pepper

Plating: Now remember this is suppose to be relaxing so enjoy your nosh plate over some vino & make your call whether to separate the salad course or combine the two (my recommendation as follows) Toss 2 Pasta Pillows in ½ cup of sauce with a promising handful of wild rocket arugula, sun dried tomato’s, artichoke hearts, oil cured olive – rustic loving! (if you’re other half has an appetite/cheese bread isn’t a bad idea nor are additional pillows)

Dark Chocolate Mousse with Drunken Bing Cherry

12 ounces bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semi-sweet chocolate, finely chopped
2 1/3 cups chilled whipping cream
1/3 cup water
1/4 cup dark corn syrup
5 tablespoons Frangelico
1 tablespoon Vanilla Extract
1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese (about 1 cup)
1 package of frozen bing cherry

Preparation

Stir chocolate, 1/3 cup cream, 1/3 cup water and corn syrup in heavy medium sauce-pan over medium-low heat until chocolate melts and mixture is smooth. Let cool until just lukewarm, stirring occasionally, about 20 minutes. Whisk in frangelico & vanilla, then mascarpone. Beat 1 cup cream in medium bowl until stiff peaks form. Fold cream into chocolate mixture in 2 additions.

Drain bing cherries in colander then place in greased muffin tins, glass 8 ounce cups, martini glasses . . or any vessel that can be inverted. Spoon mousse atop the cherries, dividing equally. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours. (Can be made 1 day ahead; keep chilled.)

Beat remaining 1 cup of cream in medium bowl until firm peaks form. Spoon or pipe cream decoratively atop each mousse. Garnish each mousse with toasted almonds, fresh cherries & basil sprig.

Upon the Eastern Sunrise of Smoked Salmon & Absurdities

2012-01-18T17:05:00.000-08:00

“I would rather sit on a pumpkin, and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 17th, 2012

Speechless as of yesterday and today. I guess I should mention Martin Luther King Day and all of the wonderful contributions he made to the once great United States of America (I say once because it would be foolish to claim global superiority – there is no #1 when assessing happiness as a peoples inhabiting a land chiseled out by imaginary borders). Drifting a wee bit to the left, straggling to the right . . . wobbling onward in search of something better. Nothingness stills my ambitions.

Tomorrow I do my part in civil duty as I testify on behalf of an employee who having been in a reckless car accident; injured his back severely and was able to work only a limited basis. Of course, having heard his pleads for any work whatsoever, I hired him knowing his condition would prohibit him from working a normal work shift. Do I always try to do the right thing? When it comes to others I’d like to believe so and yet when it comes to my own needs, wants, desires . . . I seemingly have this dilemma of taking out any misfortunes and “do gooder” discrepancies upon myself. I am my own worst enemy in that respect. Does it make it even more unfortunate that I fully comprehend my self-inflicting actions?

No, I haven’t been chanting, nor attending to my muscular definition . . . chipping away at work but forever receding into this God-forsaken realm of “What next” Have I really forfeited my will to the hand that would beat me? Where is the Water Dragon fierceness that I so desperately yearn for? Will I put aside my petty childish beliefs and grasp manhood with all of it’s accountability & responsibility. Like a hot air-balloon not yet inflated, I sit on the ground with all the potential in the world to rise above skyscrapers, ascend upwards into the heavens above, caress the outskirts of divinity. Maybe it would help my cause if I were to empty the small quarry of stones weighting down my thatch basket?

New day, I’m on the Amtrak train returning from San Diego, it’s another beautiful Wednesday and my ‘tude has improved. I had to go to court on behalf of an employee, do the right thing ya’ know? He was in tears, so I guess I said the right things . . good practice anyways, testifying that is. It won’t be long before I have my own drawn out trial, but that’s for another day and worries that can wait a few months. For now, I have work on my mind and I’ll rest assured that karma will take care of the rest.

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Smoked Salmon-n-Cream Cheese Omelette

Copious amounts of bacon have been in my diet for the past few days & this morning I used the leftover 4 pieces of bacon in my hash-browns accompanied by this omelet. Everything was bumped up an AM notch when Mr. Wilson splurged on good beans (we've been out of coffee for eons!).

Ingredients

6 large eggs
2 tablespoons half-and-half or water
1/4 teaspoon fine salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 ounces cream cheese, cut into small bits
2 ounces thinly sliced smoked nova salmon or lox, cut into 1-inch long thin strips
2 tablespoons finely diced red onion
2 teaspoons drained small capers
4 lemon slices
Snippets of fresh dill, for garnish
Equipment: 8-inch seasoned omelet skillet (like black steel or cast iron)

Directions

Preheat the broiler and arrange the oven rack in the highest position.

Put the eggs, half-and-half, salt and pepper in a bowl and whisk until frothy.

Melt the butter in the skillet over medium-high heat. Pour in the egg mixture and let sit until the bottom starts to cook. Using a rubber spatula, slowly push the cooked egg from 1 side of the skillet to the other, allowing the raw egg to reach the bottom and cook--this creates fluffiness and keeps the bottom from burning.

When the omelet is cooked on the bottom and the top is still runny, place the skillet just under the broiler with the oven door open and the handle sticking out, and broil until the omelet rises and browns lightly, about 1 minute. (Alternatively, flip the omelet in the skillet and cook briefly, to finish.)

Scatter the cream cheese and smoked salmon over the omelet; then sprinkle with the onion and capers. Broil again to warm the topping, about 30 seconds

Transfer the omelet to a cutting board, and cut into 4 triangles. Divide the omelets among plates and garnish with the lemon slices and dill

It's on the Books! Penny for your Worries, Worshorseshire Sauce

2012-01-15T15:11:00.000-08:00

“I do believe in simplicity. It is astonishing as well as sad, how many trivial affairs even the wisest thinks he must attend to in a day; how singular an affair he thinks he must omit. When the mathematician would solve a difficult problem, he first frees the equation of all incumbrances, and reduces it to its simplest terms. So simplify the problem of life, distinguish the necessary and the real. Probe the earth to see where your main roots run. ”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 15^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlr90NLDp-0

It’s still Friday the 13^th but a lot of some nothing has happened – but it’s good stuff. The judge has set a trial date, which means . . . . there is an end to the madness. My mind is now reprieved of the constant weight of this overshadowing debacle – or so I shall like to think as the Gregorian Chant settles those background noises with stern secular clarity; the orators channeling angelic influence . . . or simply a monk & num medley of a chorus reciting Latin?

Freedom comes in many forms but it is more a state of mind in our American society than any environmental precedence (ie: tyranny in 3^rd world countries). I guess I could highlight the numerous “viral marketing” articles regarding the freedom of homosexuality with the GOP going on but really, I don’t see it as that big of an issue. Maybe that makes me a moron amongst my people but I see our global warming and destruction of the planet as the number one cause to action. After all, depleting our resources & raping Mother Nature is ultimately nothing more than tearing down the foundation of earth, walls of trees, the foliage of furniture coverings . . . and with no home – it really doesn’t matter what creed, color, sexual orientation you’re sporting – we’ll all be dead! So long as we’re on this topic, I’ve always believed that this “gay gene” (whether habitat or humanity) is nothing more than a reversed state of natural selection. In case you don’t remember that term from Biology 101:

NATURAL SELECTION: the process by which forms of life having traits that better enable them to adapt to specific environmental pressures, as predators, changes in climate, or competition for food or mates, will tend to survive and reproduce in greater numbers than others of their kind, thus ensuring the perpetuation of those favorable traits in succeeding generations.

Compare survival of the fittest.

Basically the theory in my mind: if we don’t breed our numbers of infestation will go down thus forth potentially lessening our individual consumption of the planets resources. If that fails, Mama Tierra will likely unleash a virus that doesn’t come by choice (ie: AIDS), more like the bubonic plague! All of this, on the edge of the Mayan 2012 prediction and I have to wait to get my dividends out of my businesses. -Sigh- I have to trust in the universes schedule and align myself with a sense of purpose. Let go of this provocative journey Scotty! Ditch the 1,283 suitcases of weighted baggage, bolt from the airport, and find yourself a lookout above common ground to etch out some semblance of a plan. Disoriented Putz would be a fair assessment of me in my most recent isocracie – I have seemingly misplaced the “S T” in “S T A B I L I T Y”

Adding on to the previous entries a wee bit late - it’s now Sunday & I do believe that I just certified my prior assumptions in naming myself as an idiot. Excuses are really not in repertoire of rationalizing ideas, henceforth I will simply do as I always do . . . forgive myself, let an occasional laugh waft through my surrounding silence in honor of my foolishness and rest up – this is a process well beyond allocating “sleepy-time” and essentially involves multiple applications of recalibrating my mind, balancing out my body & stabilizing the many voices within that compose the essence of my soul.

At least my primary goal is beyond apparent – money, dividends, greenbacks, collateral, funds, capital, coin, mullah . . . my brokenness has reached that most humbling point when one must assess their coinage & either convert to bills (albeit one of those fancy machines at the grocery store) or shucking off those last layers of pride and with an assortment of copper pennies, nickels, dimes and even a few of those now cherished quarters and marching (on foot no less) to the convenience store in pursuit of the life’s only true necessity – cigarettes. Regrettably, this is not the first time in my adult life that I have sunken to such a state of pathetic worth. I count at least 5 times in the last ten years that I’ve had to succumb to currency as the primary means of payment; this most embarrassing disposition is at it’s pinnacle of shame when one has no alternative but to pull-over to a gas station (riding on fumes), and finagle $1.33 out of the interior car crevices . . and then throw down that change in front of a line of customers (hope that you at least drive a shitty vehicle & are still sporting your pj’s). Obviously, the lesson here is more simple than not . . . I’ve been here before, humbled to the righteous core and yet I survived, thus forth one would presume that this too – I shall survive.

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Chef Scotty’s “Worshorseshire” Sauce:

An experiment in it’s own right – Worcestershire sauce is a staple in our Western World (not an easy to task to accomplish with such a difficult name). My version is bumped up a wee bit but still relevant to the original recipe.

2 tablespoons olive oil
6 cups coarsely chopped onions
4 serranos, with stems and seeds, chopped
2 tablespoons minced garlic
2 tablespoons freshly ground pepper
4 (2-ounce) cans anchovy fillets (or an 8-ounce can), drained of oil
1/2 teaspoon allspice berry
2 tablespoons salt
2 whole, medium lemons, skin and pith removed
4 cups dark corn syrup
2 cups 100 percent Pure Cane Syrup
2 quarts distilled organic apple cider vinegar
4 cups water
3/4 pound fresh horseradish, peeled and grated
3 pint-sized canning jars

Combine the oil, onions and jalapenos in a large stockpot over high heat. Cook, stirring, until slightly soft, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the garlic, pepper, anchovy fillets, cloves, salt, lemons, corn syrup, cane syrup, vinegar, water and horseradish and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally, until the mixture barely coats a wooden spoon, about 6 hours. Strain into a clean container.

Worcestershire Sauce may be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 1 month, or processed as directed below and kept for up to 1 year.

Sterilize 3 pint-sized jars and their metal lids according to the manufacturer's instructions. Spoon the hot mixture into the jars, filling to within 1/2-inch of the rim. With a clean, damp towel, wipe the rims and fit with a hot lid. Tightly screw on the metal ring. Place, without touching, on a rack in a large, deep canning kettle or stockpot of rapidly boiling water; water should cover the jars by 1-inch. Boil and process for 15 minutes. Using tongs, remove the jars, place on a towel and let cool completely before storing. Test the seals and tighten the rings as needed. Store in a cool, dark place for at least 2 weeks before using. After opening, store jars in the refrigerator.

Inner Peace, A Jerk, A Pig & Plantains

2012-01-13T12:01:00.000-08:00

“Its not what you look at that matters, its what you see.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 13^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d9NF2edxy-M&feature=share

I purchased a screenplay software yesterday and started cleaning up previous “blog” entries where I had placed excerpts from the movie in creation. Thoreau is slowly but surely taking the introductory place within each entry and will continue to do so through the end of Spring as this Winter 2011/Spring 2012 journal copulates self transformation. My Walden is about to get a stroke of sunburst today as I call back the Food Network & my lawyer suits up before the judge in requisition of binding arbitration. I feel better today, maybe it was all that gnarly fiber I consumed yesterday afternoon?

For those of you new to the tuning of “the Word of Chi” – I now place a link to a song for your enjoyment to listen to as you read on through my whimsical mind. I find music to be one of mankind’s greatest accomplishments, it can move you through an emotion, it can build you up when all else has been but striped away, it can carry your thoughts to reaffirmed conclusions. I still have to go back through and put a little more love into the selections & I’m open to your suggestions per any one entry.

Enough with background noise – today is beautiful with promises pursing upon my inner lip. I have a steaming cup of Earl Grey Tea (no beans to be found) and Mr. Wilson has just returned from Whole Foods with some high fiber cereal & flax seed – healthy mush in a bowl morning!!! Still to shower, hum some Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, then the ominous gym . . . but first let’s talk some everyday facebook food.

Facebook is forever tainted with tidbits of culinary innovations, for example just yesterday Kyle proclaimed he’d cooked his best balsamic chicken (note: your song today is compliments of Monsieur Kyle), Chef Andrew Spurgin shared his Black truffle masterpiece for the Cooks Confab Dinner last night, Tommy Gomes sporting his seafood specials at Catalina Offshore, Matt Gordon heralded for his second election to San Diego’s 50 people to watch as a top chef, Chef Jenn Felmley is reading up on the history of culinary arts . . . food is such a part of our everyday lives and such a simple form of enjoyment it’s good to see active participation in knowing where our food comes from be it a farmer, a fisherman or our own bandaged sauté pan. Share the gift of food with yourself, friends & family – the rewards are endless!

The recipe I’m attaching today is somewhat easy to accomplish and over-the-top delish – I had it on my menu at Eden in case anyone remembers. The anniversary of that project now recently come to pass, I’m excited to visit San Diego next week to see old friends and touch base with new ones. Life continues to press on, just like the fiber rummaging through my system . . I am literally at inner peace!

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Recipe for Jerked Pork Carnitas with Plantain Hash

Something about the fat drippings in Pork Carnitas that just gets the whole oral fixation thing going . . . now add some of my plantain hash to balance out that salt with some al dente sweetness (we won’t even go there with the banana references).

Ingredients: 

·         3-4 pound pork shoulder roast (Boston butt)

·         1/4 cup orange juice

·         Juice of one lime

·         1 cup spicy salsa (add fresh serrano or jalapeno for additional kick)

·         1 teaspoon each of cumin, coriander, allspice, paprika, black pepper

·         4 cloves of crushed garlic

·         1 teaspoon ginger, minced

·         3 tablespoons brown sugar

·         3 tablespoons kosher salt

Preparation: 

1.    Remove excess fat from the pork. No need to remove all of the the fat - just the really big pieces. Cut the pork into 3 or 4 pieces and sprinkle all over with salt and pepper. 

2.    Place all the ingredients in the crockpot and cook on low for about 6 hours, or until pork is very tender and can be pulled apart easily with a fork. 

3.    Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil. Preheat the broiler. 

4.    Shred the pork, and place in on the baking sheet. Pour the sauce from the crockpot over the pork and mix gently. 

5.    Broil meat, turning once, until brown and caramelized around the edges, or desired amount. (about 5 minutes) 

Plantain Hash Recipe

Ingredients: 

·         1 tablespoon low-sodium soy sauce 

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·         3/4 teaspoon salt, divided  

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·         3/4 teaspoon dried thyme 

·         1/4 teaspoon ground ginger 

·         1/4 teaspoon ground red pepper 

·         1/8 teaspoon ground allspice 

·         1 pound pork carnitas – see recipe above 

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·         1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided  

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·         1 tablespoon butter 

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·         1 1/2 cups coarsely chopped onion 

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·         1 cup chopped green bell pepper 

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·         2 large yellow plantains, chopped (about 3 cups) 

·         1/2 teaspoon black pepper  

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·         4 garlic cloves, minced 

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·         1 teaspoon habanero hot pepper sauce 

·         2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro 

Preparation 

1.     Combine soy sauce, 1/4 teaspoon salt, thyme, and next 4 ingredients (thyme through pork); toss well to coat.

2.      Heat 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add pork mixture; sauté 4 minutes or until done. Remove from pan; keep warm. 

3.     Add the remaining 1 tablespoon oil and butter to pan. Add onion, bell pepper, plantains, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and black pepper; cook 6 minutes, stirring occasionally. 

4.     Stir in garlic; sauté 2 minutes or until plantains are tender. Drizzle with hot sauce, and stir well. Sprinkle with cilantro.

Note: Use semi-ripe plantains--not green or soft, ripe black ones. The plantains brown better if not stirred too much as they cook. Look for bottled mango slices in the produce section of the supermarket.

Kung Fu Meatloaf, Let it Flow or Let it Go, A Call to a Quest

2012-01-12T13:55:00.000-08:00

“See how he cowers and sneaks, how vaguely all the day he fears, not being immortal nor divine, but the slave and prisoner of his own opinion of himself, a fame won by his own deeds.”
― Henry David Thoreau,

Kung Fu Panda II = the lesson of “let the past go to find inner peace”

January 12^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNkyaBZvy-8

After yesterday’s blog, I can honestly say that I’m working on that one! It’s a little bit difficult with a lawsuit that won’t let go, like an annoying, ankle biting Chihuahua. I’m exhausted from waiting in line and it really, really is time to hit the restart button . . . it also happens to be high time that I buy more coffee beans cause this damn white blossom tea isn’t doing the kick me in the ass trick!

I’m thinking of San Diego, Austin, Marco Island/the Keyes, Melbourne . . anywhere else but here, but maybe that’s more than just physical location that I’m referencing. I need more work and I don’t know if I have it in me to rebrand myself up here in Los Angeles. I don’t know if I have it in me to run the course of another culinary business. Contemplating the “what if’s” I decided to finally sit down in front of Kuan Yin, break out the prayer beads and chant Nam Myoho Renge Kyo . . . five minutes into my mediation and who should call, but the Food Network. I guess that answers the question of “to Chef or not to Chef!”

I haven’t called them back yet, better judgment telling me that I need to walk down to Z café and order a stiff espresso first. Mr. Wilson has been so damn patient with me and my lethargic corpse of an excuse for a human being , he calmly suggests “maybe you should just try to do something, anything would be something.” It’s true, I’ve let the evil one get to me as of recent and I’d be content to take up a tax-free occupation as a West Hollywood gigolo at the moment . . . but this moment will eventually pass and I’ll find my way back to a faith of loving freely, living fully and cooking passionately.

Have you ever tried consuming this psyllium husk crap! It’s like drinking mucus as it binds up whatever liquid solvent it is combined with. Viscous doesn’t even begin to describe this God awful concoction. I figure if I can’t detox from my soon to be ex-business partner I might as well purify my body. Maybe I’ll make the walk to the gym today . . . twelve blocks seems like a long ways right now, so maybe I’ll just start with stepping out for that steaming cup of espresso and perhaps meander a few additional blocks in pursuit of another pack of cigs. Did I say something about detox? Maybe I'll make meatloaf for dinner.

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

MEATLOAF = homey, mushy, nostalgic, ketchup, mixed up mess!

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds ground beef
1 egg
1 onion, chopped
1 cup milk
1 cup dried bread crumbs
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons prepared mustard
1/3 cup ketchup
Now this is just your TEMPLATE for meatloaf . . . what am I going to do??? Tune in tomorrow for the details.

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
In a large bowl, combine the beef, egg, onion, milk and bread OR cracker crumbs. Season with salt and pepper to taste and place in a lightly greased 5x9 inch loaf pan, OR form into a loaf and place in a lightly greased 9x13 inch baking dish.
In a separate small bowl, combine the brown sugar, mustard and ketchup. Mix well and pour over the meatloaf.
Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 1 hour.

Bittersweet Tendencies & A Cause by way of Custard

2012-01-11T18:12:00.000-08:00

“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 11^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t9u9mZz-o-g

Unrest in my soul, unease in my mind, under the weight of such burdening revolutions – I yearn for the upcoming day of reckoning. Do you ever wonder how some people can live with themselves? I guess it must be a luxury to do as you please without care or concern for another . . . and yet so sad that our society is capable of manufacturing such an individual. Who’s responsibility is it to “fix” such a broken spoke? He who attempts such a task on his own undoubtedly risks his own integrity as the dubious devil infiltrates your privacy in search of weakness and vulnerability. He does not want to be saved – he has gained too much at the expensive of others!

Torturous interference I believe is the legal jargon attributed to such action. I like that phrase as it evokes the severity of one’s malice intent. Good suffering at the hand of Evil – always the biblical sort of story, the righteous prevailing only in some unforeseen afterlife. To hell with that! The Good deserve nothing but equality of Good in the present. Perhaps this is why I never made a “Good” catholic.

Enough with the negative, I have my kids from Job Corps over here and just finished their first culinary quiz. I’ve trained nine individuals to date . . not exactly sure why I’m wired the way that I am. Providing such an opportunity, a cost savings of 45k (the average culinary school expense) to underprivileged individuals expressing their interest in my profession . . . how many times have I been burned by these students? Do they really appreciate the value of a practical education and training that better prepares them for an immediate career? Whatever the answer is – I haven’t learned it proper nor did they even come close to passing their introductory quiz. I mean seriously, when asked the general components of a custard they answered – an egg. How about cream or milk? Sugar? I layed down the law and told them they had another two weeks to prepare for another whack at my introductory basic quiz and they both needed to pass at above 75% or I wouldn’t continue their training (and yes – I let them take the quiz together - they still only scored 40%)

Belief has been such a pivotal subject in my life. I must stress to remember those that have believed in me and given me the opportunities to succeed as they surely surmount those that would attempt to manipulate my natural tendencies as a free-spirit. Giving back is just part of what it is to be a better human being . . I guess that’s why I volunteered this Saturday at the West Hollywood Elementary School. If there is a God . . I do so hope that he has some retribution in store for me this Friday. Good must triumph . . or this relic of a fool is gonna unfold into an entirely new mess. As the kids couldn’t quite come up with a custard and I’m still a little bit overshadowed by a pinch of negativity it is only appropriate that I pencil out a basic recipe for bittersweet chocolate pot de crème. Enjoy in the sinful goodness!

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Recipe for Bittersweet Chocolate Pot de Creme

Ingredients

3 ounces bittersweet chocolate, cut into small pieces
2 cups heavy cream
1/2 cup milk
5 egg yolks
1/4 cup granulated sugar
Pinch salt
White Chocolate Whipped Cream, recipe follows
Grated chocolate, for garnish

Directions

Place rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Melt the chocolate in a medium heatproof bowl set over gently simmering water. When the chocolate is almost melted, turn off the heat and let stand until completely melted.

Meanwhile, in a medium saute pan, scald the cream and milk. Watch carefully as cream will boil over.

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, and salt until the sugar is completely dissolved.

Slowly whisk the hot cream mixture into the yolks. If you add the hot cream mixture too quickly, the egg yolks could cook and leave undesirable cooked egg particles.

Remove the melted chocolate from the stove and pour the hot cream mixture through a fine mesh strainer into the melted chocolate. Whisk until well combined and smooth.

Ladle the mixture into 6 (3/4-cup) ramekins. Lime the bottom of a baking pan with a clean kitchen towel or paper towels. Place the filled ramekins in the baking dish on the towel. Pour in enough hot water to reach halfway up the sides of the ramekins. Cover the entire pan with aluminum foil and place in the oven. Bake until mixture around the edges of the ramekin is firm when lightly shaken, about 35 minutes. (Baking time will vary depending on depth and width of ramekins.) The center of the Pot de Cremes may still jiggle slightly when shaken, but that is okay, it will firm up as it chills.

Carefully remove the ramekins from the baking pan, wipe dry and allow to cool. Once cooled, refrigerate until firm, about 2 to 3 hours.

To serve, spoon some White Chocolate Whipped Cream into the ramekin and garnish with some grated chocolate.

White Chocolate Whipped Cream:

2 ounces white chocolate, finely chopped

1 1/2 cups heavy cream, chilled

Melt the white chocolate in a double boiler over barely simmering water, stirring occasionally. Once melted, remove from the heat and cool to room temperature.

Whip the cream in a chilled bowl to soft peaks. Fold in the cooled chocolate and beat to stiff peaks.

Ride the Wave or Hide Away? Kooky Dreams & Candied Ginger

2012-01-10T11:33:00.000-08:00

Dreams are the touchstones of our characters.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 10^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qPsU7x2tEDY

In depth dreams kept me crawled up in bed until 10am. Interesting scenarios of running into a guy, Michael Venedicto, who ripped me off of 100k back in 2005 (lesson learned: a judgment doesn’t mean you get the money and here he was mocking me in my dream), my father & stepmother watching me as I unwrapped a belated Christmas gift – beneath the layers of shiny scarlet paper I uncovered an interestingly shaped pewter platter that I had previously given to them in another dream. And in my final series of surreal dreams I embarked upon a lovely sailing adventure accompanied by Chef Deborah Scott and an attractive San Diego boy that I’ve always admired, named Jesse (always had a thing for blond & blue).

In this last epic vision, we channeled up a rather quaint creek for a stretch making conversion & well . . making out (Deb drove the boat) until we at last reached the Pacific Ocean. Rather than drop anchor, we scooted the sailboat onto shore before jumping out into the crisp, blue water for a joyful afternoon swim. Then out of nowhere a Tsunami rolled up in the form of a horizontal wave traveling parallel to the beach. It swelled to more than fifteen feet high and while Deb & Jesse had the common sense to make a b-line for the shore, my dumbass opted to attempt tucking under the surmountable wave. That didn’t work out so good! I was dragged under and carried off and away into something of a green lagoon. Eventually, I made it back to the secluded beach without any notable physical scars or injuries (thanks to dream protocol) to enjoy some further affection by the aqua azul eyed chap (Deb had evaporated from the equation). I didn’t want to wake up, kissing him felt so good . . . but at last, I had to pee.

Dreams are often attributed to offering some insight beyond our consciousness. Obviously I am no psychologist but I think getting plastered by a massive wave in the midst of romance might have something to do with my late November Aussie affair. The unwrapped pewter gift just might symbolize my father’s constant support and perhaps present me with the question of what culinary path I am to follow . . what am I to serve up on that platter? The representation of a past thief most likely triggered by my meeting yesterday with my lawyer over our upcoming Friday the 13^th appointment with the judge – I’d very much like to put my Eden/ChileCo affair to bed and move on with my life. Who know’s the real answer; I think half the battle is simply trying to make sense out of our dreams as much as we try to make sense of our reality. There is no right or wrong answers so long as you’re at least attempting to understand any given situation, evaluating your responses and hopefully applying lessons learned to future scenarios.

I’m suiting up for the gym in a few, I think it’s time a got back into the groove and clear my cloistered head. Too many cobwebs up there! Something simple of a recipe to nibble on – a recipe for making homemade candied ginger. A great snack that is full of bite – kind of refreshes your memory of the moment . . .

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Recipe: Candied Ginger Matchsticks

A sweet hot treat that is sure to ignite that sex drive or spark some inspiration. Feel free to make plenty and store in freezer Ziploc bags.

Ingredients

Nonstick spray
1 pound fresh ginger root
5 cups water
Approximately 1 pound granulated sugar

Directions

Spray a cooling rack with nonstick spray and set it in a half sheet pan lined with parchment.

Peel the ginger root and slice into 1/8-inch thick slices using a mandoline. Place into a 4-quart saucepan with the water and set over medium-high heat. Cover and cook for 35 minutes or until the ginger is tender.

Transfer the ginger to a colander to drain, reserving 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid. Weigh the ginger and measure out an equal amount of sugar. Return the ginger and 1/4 cup water to the pan and add the sugar. Set over medium-high heat and bring to a boil, stirring frequently. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until the sugar syrup looks dry, has almost evaporated and begins to recrystallize, approximately 20 minutes. Transfer the ginger immediately to the cooling rack and spread to separate the individual pieces. Once completely cool, store in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks. Save the sugar that drops beneath the cooling rack and use to top ginger snaps, sprinkled over ice cream or to sweeten coffee.

Enjoy the Silence of Uncertainity, Enlisted Efforts, Potsticker Assembly

2012-01-09T09:40:00.000-08:00

“One must maintain a little bittle of summer, even in the middle of winter.”
― Henry David Thoreau

Janurary 9^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pMfV0sVQ_VU

Delusion of the Illusion, what pumpernickel I’ve become over these pivoting days of the New Year. I am but a vagabond carelessly skipping through the tarnished streets of Los Angeles, oblivious to the modest treasures of mankind and forever tinkering with my speechless companion; a green & white stripped yo-yo. Up and down, walk the dog, flick forward and reel back . . . mesmerized by the minute, the traffic passing by without care or concern . . . maybe I should get on the bus and at least pretend that I have a destination?

To say that I organized my physical affairs yesterday would be like saying that the Dalai Lama is gracious – a big understatement. The chaos that was once my catering bins in the garage is roughly 90% packaged into practical method and means; my room “the attic” is now features more than four square yards of free space exposing the hardwood floors below and more importantly, vanquishing a substantial portion of the “cluttered as f’k feeling.” My unkempt piles of paperwork harboring the plethora of documents and copies concerning my lawsuit, bills left for dead, various business proposals, menu’s, consulting outlines . . . all filed away both physically and mentally. I now know where I stand (for better or worse) and what actions are required to either complete, dismiss or recalibrate.

Back to creating a list. It really didn’t work last week as I was overwhelmed by the mess of my affairs (professionally and as of recent personally) and the desire to escape without clear direction. Not to say that I haven’t made any progress, but fair to establish that I gained more from m digression than any plausible ascension. My lawyer has an important meeting with the judge this coming Friday, the whereabouts of my assigned tasks are outlined and I shall attack these prioritized duties first. Next, I will attend to the various facets that might yield some financial sustenance – broke as a yolk I am. Fortunately, I have a few golden nuggets that are my primary focus for establishing a regular income stream but these items won’t furnish immediate monetary relief . . as such, I have to whittle & whore my chef skills to the nearest bidder. The remaining items of interest are not likely to receive any immediate attention but at the very least – they have been acknowledged, named and charted for future intent. Lastly, I am writing my journal entry and having returned from never-never land – “Peter Pan choked out Tinkerbell over a box of Whoppers; he’s made his amends, buried her little fairy ass in the dirt below a rat infested Date Palm and is at last listening to the reader.”

I haven’t gone to the gym, I haven’t made lunch in half a century, I haven’t chanted Nam Myoho Renge Kyo . . . I had abolished my routine all together. It’s time to put the pieces back together with a rejuvenated outlook and so I give you a recipe for assembly – the Potsticker

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

The Foundation of a Potsticker

Ingredients

1/2 pound ground pork or turkey, chicken, lamb, shrimp or beef
1/2 medium head cabbage, finely chopped
1 green onion, finely chopped
2 slices fresh ginger root, finely chopped
2 water chestnuts, drained and finely chopped
1 cup of fresh herbs (cilantro, basil, mint or mixture thereof)
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon white sugar
1 teaspoon sesame oil
1 (14 ounce) package wonton wrappers
5 tablespoons vegetable oil
3/4 cup water
1 tablespoon chili oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon rice vinegar

Directions

Crumble pork into a large, deep skillet. Cook over medium high heat until evenly brown. Drain and set aside.
In a medium bowl, mix together the pork, cabbage, green onion, ginger, water chestnuts, herbs, salt, sugar and sesame oil. Chill in the refrigerator 6 to 8 hours, or overnight.
Place a tablespoon of the pork mixture into each of the wonton wrappers. Fold the wrappers, and seal the edges with a moistened fork.
In a large, deep skillet, heat 3 tablespoons vegetable oil over medium high heat. Place the pot stickers into the oil seam sides up. Heat 30 seconds to a minute. Pour water into the skillet. Gently boil 7 to 8 minutes, until oil and water begins to sizzle, then add remaining oil. When the bottoms begin to brown, remove pot stickers from heat.
In a small serving bowl, mix together the chili oil, soy sauce, and vinegar, adjusting proportions to taste.

Tears in a Heaven full of Peanut Butter Memories

2012-01-06T18:30:00.000-08:00

You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment. Fools stand on their island of opportunities and look toward another land. There is no other land; there is no other life but this.”
― Henry David Thoreau

January 6^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JxPj3GAYYZ0

Returning from the less than grateful land of Poway I’ve had more than enough time to ponder the funeral from which I came from. Or more like, I’ve had more than enough time to consider the content of the Eulogy, the purpose of this gathering of family, friends & strangers, and if there is any . . the purpose of losing a beautiful twenty year old girl? Does such any purpose exist? This was perhaps the number one question running through everyone’s minds regardless of faith or proximity to Michelle.

My faith as of recent is one of Buddhism but I was raised a catholic hypocrite like many . . carrying the cross as an alterboy and all the meanwhile wondering what I would be having for lunch that afternoon. I found myself relating with this “God” again, causing a bit more of uncertainty . . . something I really don’t need anything more of at the moment. As it stands, my core values have been exasperatedly shuffled: Am I to be an employee or stay entrepreneur . . and if so, what profession do I follow, shall I continue to love freely or guard my feelings for fear of being hurt, am I a Buddhist or am I a born yet again Christian believing in some sort of afterlife?

Questions? So many damn questions and not enough concrete answers. At some point, I have to cross the road . . if I keep hanging out here in the median I’m likely to get picked off by some random semi-trailer transporting #10 can’s of string beans. The main message delivered by the pastor, Michelle’s uncle, the best friend – they were all the same . . live life to the fullest, but maybe not so fast! After my deep slumber, I’ve had a new view of my circumstances and I believe I’ve weeded out some of the dandelions. Unfortunately, taking away an opportunity or two and selecting the most promising candidates doesn’t necessarily guarantee the desired outcome. There’s this whole – it takes two to tango thing.

My favorite part of the eulogy was something that Michelle had written referencing perhaps the struggles of an accomplished teenager striving to understand the strength of oneself versus the inherent trait of codependence. Her metaphor went something like this: “Would one build a dining table without legs, would one build a house without first constructing a foundation? Two trees attempting to root in the same soil will stunt each other’s growth, where as two trees growing an acorn throws distance apart can spread their feet deep into the earth, stabilizing their intentions to grow upward and outward . . . only then can the two trees branches interconnect creating a forest canopy beneath, their shared shadow becoming their strength.”

In her message of life and thereafter – Michelle has rekindled my own notions of what it takes to be happy, it vindicates my beliefs that in order to germinate a fulfilling relationship one must plant their own unconditional garden of love and cultivate that soulseed before looking to pollination and the sermon did ultimately reinforce my drive to continue along the path of Buddhism for all these purposes and all those yet to be said.

Just when you finally don’t have to figure things out, the out will figure the final (whatever the hell that’s suppose to mean) . . . . in the meantime, I’ve always found baking to be therapeutic.

With Culinary Blessings,

Chef Scotty

Recipe for Peanut Butter Cookies

Peanut butter cookies is one of those things from my childhood that brings back fond memories of mom. This one goes out to Robin – there is nothing I or anyone else can say or do to ease your pain, but perhaps you’ll find comfort in two dozen peanut butter cookies delivered monthly (you might find one or two stuck with a Herseys kiss too)

Ingredients

1 cup unsalted butter
1 cup crunchy peanut butter
1 cup white sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 eggs
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda

Directions

Cream together butter, peanut butter and sugars. Beat in eggs.
In a separate bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Stir into batter. Put batter in refrigerator for 1 hour.
Roll into 1 inch balls and put on baking sheets. Flatten each ball with a fork, making a criss-cross pattern. Bake in a preheated 375 degrees F oven for about 10 minutes or until cookies begin to brown. Do not over-bake.

Eleven lords a leaping, Numb, Fish-n-Chips Recipe

2012-01-05T10:56:00.000-08:00

“I have heard of a man lost in the woods and dying of famine and exhaustion at the foot of a tree, whose loneliness was relieved by the grotesque visions with which, owing to bodily weakness, his diseased imagination surrounded him, and which he believed to be real. So also, owing to bodily and mental health and strength, we may be continually cheered by a like but more normal and natural society, and come to know that we are never alone.”
― Henry David Thoreau

December 5^th, 2012

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_-qRcHAhzk

Those crusty eyelids slid open like rusted over garage doors, shifting the Earth beneath my burdened body I made my way for the water lapping at the edge of my desires to cast free from this stalagmite ridden enclave. What a fool to have forgotten I am a water dragon! The buoyancy of the Mother’s tears will carry the most pressing weight until I have at last gained momentum; the sunset awaits my baptism . . . free at last, I’ll take flight at the crest of an amber horizon.

This morning, I have risen from the depths of my own imprisonment, the chamber of secrets no longer gripping my mind with doubt and trepidation. Maybe it was the 16oz bloodied ribeye that I ravenously devoured last night, maybe it was the correct prescription of unlimited sleep . . who knows – all I know is that I am wide awake and grateful to have shredded my pity like the remaining scraps of grizzle on my dinner plate last night.

Where to begin? How long have I been gone? A list, best to start with a definitive list so as not to become overwhelmed by the surmountable tasks needing my most adamant attention. And coffee, more coffee . . . a jumpstart is best accompanied by some Tanzanian dark roast and tightly fitting sneakers; amazing how the shoes you strap on can either undermine your evening intentions or escalate your matching pin-striped demeanor. The time is 10:19am, if I strategize and work diligently I can finish this Thursday with some sort of redeeming sensation of accomplishment.

Are any of my recent nocturnal escapades worthy of sharing in detail? If they were, they would likely be at the forefront of my thoughts and pour out onto this journal – Numb. That is what I leave you to consider, the very state of my existence these past few days.

Definition of NUMB

1: devoid of sensation especially as a result of cold or anesthesia

2: devoid of emotion : indifferent

Mr. Wilson’s annual “12^th day Party” or spinoff of his birthday celebration (which actually takes place on the 2^nd of January every year) will be taking place this Saturday and it requires the creation of some culinary nibbles . . . good thing somebody woke out of his coma (even the great prophet Moses couldn’t fix Mr. Wilson’s feeble attempts at prodding food into some entitlement as an edible meal) A brief grocery list will be devised but until then I’m thinking fish-n-chips as I have a case of potatoes & a boatload of halibut scraps in the freezer.

Fish-n-Chips Recipe

Ingredients

For the fries:

1 gallon safflower oil
4 large Russet potatoes
Kosher salt

For the batter:

2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
Dash Old Bay Seasoning
1 bottle brown beer, cold I like to use a smoked porter
1 1/2 pounds firm-fleshed whitefish (tilapia, pollock, cod), cut into 1-ounce strips
Cornstarch, for dredging

Directions

Heat oven to 200 degrees F.

Heat the safflower oil in a 5-quart Dutch oven over high heat until it reaches 320 degrees.
Using a V-slicer with a wide blade, slice the potatoes with the skin on. Place in a large bowl with cold water.
In a bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, cayenne pepper, and Old Bay seasoning. Whisk in the beer until the batter is completely smooth and free of any lumps. Refrigerate for 15 minutes. Note: The batter can be made up to 1 hour ahead of time.
Drain potatoes thoroughly, removing any excess water. When oil reaches 320 degrees, submerge the potatoes in the oil. Working in small batches, fry for 2 to 3 minutes until they are pale and floppy. Remove from oil, drain, and cool to room temperature.
Increase the temperature of the oil to 375 degrees. Re-immerse fries and cook until crisp and golden brown, about 2 to 3 minutes. Remove and drain on roasting rack. Season with kosher salt while hot and hold in the oven.
Allow oil to return to 350 degrees. Lightly dredge fish strips in cornstarch. Working in small batches, dip the fish into batter and immerse into hot oil. When the batter is set, turn the pieces of fish over and cook until golden brown, about 2 minutes. Drain the fish on the roasting rack. Serve with malt vinegar.

Sleepy Rainbows, Murmurring Intentions . . Cupcake anyone?

2012-01-04T16:15:00.000-08:00

“To be alone was something unpleasant. But I was at the same time conscious of a slight insanity in my mood, and seemed to foresee my recovery.”
― Henry David Thoreau,

December 4th, 2012
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fk2prKnYnI

Dragging my feet, my body, my mind into mid-week has been an effort to say the least. I’ve slept so much, roughly sixteen hours yesterday, that my dreams are hard to differentiate from reality. The two concepts inseparable as a root from its stem, I seem to be drawing little nutrients from the soil and impervious to the restorative sunshine . . I just want to sleep. And so I do, did . . now, awake again at some capacity.

What makes one dive deep into a cavernous state of darkness and solitary confinement? The many transformations of life are what makes it so beautiful. I often say that I an “everyday of sunshine” would only make us ever so less appreciative. It is the lightening stroked storms, the destructive tornadoes, the overcast stratocumulus cloud cover that encourages us to look for a burst of sunshine harboring an endless rainbow. Back when I use to self educate myself, I read a fair amount of Thomas Moore and if I recall correctly – depression is something to be cherished as much as happiness. My companions along this adventure have been ice cream, bacon, my pillow, salt, water, the TV – in particular HBO, cigarettes and my PJ’s. It’s stretching in to a two day binge of neglect for all responsibility . . well, almost – I have managed to scribble a few emails and answer a few phone calls.

Needless to say, the water dragon is awakening from its slumber but at a nominal pace. What becomes of tomorrow is yet to be determined. I stand before the mirror of introspection, gazing at an image of myself but unable to see the shadows that lurk behind me . . . till the new day turns, more bathing in bacon & crunching of ice cream . . . more dreams of winged chinchillas holding parliament . . . more endless possibilities and endeavors for lost rainbows.

With culinary blessings

Chef Scotty

A RECIPE FOR RAINBOWS

Ingredients

· White cake mix (we used an 18-1/4-ounce box)

· Food coloring (red, blue, green, and yellow)

· Baking cups

· Whipped cream (optional)

Instructions

1. Prepare your favorite white cake mix, then divide the batter evenly among six small bowls. Following the chart below, dye each bowl of batter a rainbow color.

RAINBOW COLOR	DROPS OF FOOD COLORING
Purple	9 red and 6 blue drops
Blue	12 drops
Green	12 drops
Yellow	12 drops
Orange	12 yellow and 4 red drops
Red	18 drops

2. Line 16 muffin pan wells with baking cups. Evenly distribute the purple batter among the cups, then the blue, and so on, following the order shown. As you go, gently spread each layer of batter with the back of a spoon to cover the color underneath.

3. Bake the cupcakes according to your recipe directions. Before serving, remove the paper wrapping, and if you like, top each cupcake with a whipped-cream cloud.

The Water Dragon Awakening . . . well, slowly - not quite Awake yet!

2012-01-03T14:05:00.000-08:00

“We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us even in our soundest sleep. I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavour. It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look, which morally we can do. To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts.”
― Henry David Thoreau

December 3rd, 2012

Exhaustion gripping my body, Contemplation for consideration, Resolution leftovers scraped from the plate . . . it’s been a few days since I’ve entered anything in my journal and for good reason(s). A snapshot of the past few days would have you believing that I danced out my emotions for nine hours, that I cooked up some killer New Years brunch cuisine and embraced a friend who lost her only daughter just one week ago, that in a fit of fatigue I babysat Sister Mary Cleo’s three little children and finally, that I wrapped up this four day sabbatical by taking Mr. Wilson out for his 55^th birthday dinner at an “upscale” restaurant named Jar . . I woke up at 11:23am this morning, I could have slept all day!

Such highs & lows, like the rise and fall of the Roman Empire I’ve had so much in my mind and heart it’s been a little difficult to hold onto any given page for too long. What I want, and what I need . . . blended together like sweet-n-sour mix, a handful of iced over intentions and a good pour of Patron tequila passion – this Margarita of life seems to be packing plenty of punch (and if not handled wisely – plenty of hangover regrets). Yeah, I’m still a bit dazed and confused . . . manana might bring more clarity.

With the conventional New Year’s out of the way, I always look onward towards the Chinese 2012 New Years on January 23^rd “the year of the Water Dragon”. I myself, was born in the year of the Fire Dragon http://www.metaphysicalzone.com/china/dragon4.shtml and find it easy to identify with the characteristics attributed to the dragon personality. Honestly, I’m a bit tired of defending my keep . . . seems that with all the benefits of being a mystical, intuitive, fire-breathing creature . . . not only do peeps want a good look at you, but their drawn to the appeal of a Dragon trophy head mounted above their fireplace mantel. My wings are unfurled, perhaps it’s time to creep from my liar and give a little show. Let me all know what this mo-fo can do! That might just remind them as much as myself – “you want some of this?” Bring it on!

Diverting back to culinary purpose, our dinner last night at Jar was good, if not overpriced for pot roast & coq au vin. The oxtail dumplings were that – exactly that! Just shredded beef essence in a light beef broth with a few medium diced butternut squash cubes. In my opinion, everything was two snips short of the correct salt amount (the oversized “grilled” asparagus lacking it entirely). The dessert adorning one long stemmed candle as it’s sole garnish, was a chocolate mousse “terrine” neither formidably decadent nor lacking sufficient sucrose. The success of five years in holding their location might be attributed to the limited size of the restaurant – roughly 110 seats and a rather limited menu featuring a la carte steaks and only a few options of seafood. The ambiance was modern nostalgic; most notably – the chairs were all on wheels . . a bit too much like a retirement home mess hall. The service was impeccable – I give it 7.7 out of 10 Scotty stars.

Pot Roast would probably suit this entry – a favorite carnivore concoction, homey in all of it’s manifestations it can certainly be doctored up with a little innovation.

Chef Scotty

Pot Roast Recipe

Ingredients

2 teaspoons olive oil
4 pounds boneless chuck roast
1 onion, chopped
3 carrots, peeled, cut on bias
2 parsnips, peeled, cut on bias
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
2 tablespoons thyme
2 cups red wine
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Options: add 2 tablespoons of garam masala, fresh tarragon &/or thyme, montreal steak seasoning, or liquid smoke

Directions

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F (165 degrees C).
Heat a heavy Dutch oven on top of the stove over medium high heat. Add oil, and sear meat in the center of the pan for 4 minutes. Turn meat over with tongs; sear all sides for 3 to 4 minutes on each side. Remove meat from pan. Arrange onion, carrot, parsnip, garlic, 1 bay leaf & thyme in the bottom of the pan, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Return meat to pan, place remaining bay leaf on top of meat, add red wine and cover.
Cook in the oven for 30 minutes at 325 degrees F (165 degrees C). Reduce the heat to 300 degrees F (150 degrees C), and cook for 1 1/2 hours. Remove roast to a platter to rest for 10 to 15 minutes. Slice, and top with onions and gravy.

Twisted Claus-e-Q, A Piece of the Puzzle< Jello Shot or Slop?

2011-12-30T11:58:00.000-08:00

“Perhaps the facts most astounding and most real are never communicated by man to man. The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.”
― Henry David Thoreau

December 30th, 2011

I’ve recuperated from yet another Holiday Season of catering, adjusted my volume to block out the most pressing of emotions and officially reclaimed my compass . . . my feet following the orders from upstairs. One last holiday on the horizon, New Years Day. The turn of a new year has always puzzled me a bit seeing how people from across the globe celebrate this holiday by the minute and yet those minutes turn into hours –even days of separation due to the time zones. Awaiting the drop of crumpled confetti, hawking down the opportunity to kiss someone of significance or a selected candidate from the potential stallion stable with high hopes for a wet-n- wild rodeo, milling around a herd of new nameless acquaintances as you dribble appropriate “best year wishes to you both” all the while you silently breath deep into your soul (-reflection-relief-revive-respond-), the countdown begins and the anticipation subsides all but for a split second! Dodging guests as you b-line for the bar, “Refill de’m fanciful champagne cocktails Shelby!”

The Clock, once a symbol of entitlement, notable & purposeful, unrivaled Germanic craftsmanship hardly relevant to the nearly forgotten heirloom Grandfather clock . . . . tick tock tick tock . . . Everything is digital these days, displaying the current time, penciling in your calendar of events and meetings for the next two weeks . . . tock tito trick otto . . . I tend to evaluate these divinely magnificent days of commercialism as another Showbiz Twister stint (myself included, the value of a few catering dollars easily able to purchase the rights to my own holiday memory making). The tornado likes to rip up everything insight with the exception of an occasional propane tank (they seem to bolt those things down real good). Next, the wind tunnel rattles you to the core, blasting you with confusion & a gnarly case of whip-lash before thrusting any given hostage out of its “eye” in vertical fashion. Thus we move into the ever so placid months of January, February & March. All suited up for the duration of another winter, these months promise far less retail potential or media exploitation . . hell, you’ve got a frekin little Irish hoarder, a nuisance of a fairy sporting its “all for no particular reason” bow & arrows and January just kind of get’s the shaft as it’s Hallmark happens to start in the December & conclude as a new year “a la Enero” whilst you have pay back your Cirque de Soleil “party like you don’t need them brain cells”

“If only we had stopped at 2pm, if only we hadn’t started at 8p? If only I could manage my nauseating overindulgence in the form of prayer & selfless deed . . . naw, Christmas wouldn’t be the same without burning & burying oneself into even a deeper financial abyss as we polka our way through the subliminal redecorating the house in fire-engine red, evergreen clippings strewn throughout, the near-forgotten attic emptied of its festive cargo. Too much? I think so . . . Sifting through a rather formidable crate (or is it an outhouse?), those pesky bio-peanuts parachuting away from it’s prison. Labeling not exactly addressed with any consistency, at least somebody had the common sense to list the contents on the side of the refrigerator sized vessel: X-mas at Harmons/ assortment of figurines DON’T BREAK!

New Years Eve is just the final “Sha-Bang n’ Bootscoot” of our modern Holiday image and coincidently those expenditures are baptized by: the good, the All forgiving God, acts of giving & generosity, imagination, kindness and childhood innocence, So, let the Party God say, “Can I get a hell yeah & a whoot-whoot, cause it’s gonna get sizzling, smoke-n-swervy, curried curves wrapped up in some sultra spice, a dash to the flash as you move to groove, sippin’dis bubbles, by the bottomless we bite.” Wait a minute, Weren’t we suppose to make some goals or New Year’s resolution, thump, thump,whoomp . . . . “damn it!

On Christmas Day, your were given an amazing gift of insight, discovered possibilities, evaluated emotions, and directions to several undetermined destinations . This blueprint of your 2012 comes in the form of a 4,739 piece transparent jigsaw puzzle. Now, it’s most likely that you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed, I mean this thing has the jeopardy logo on it . . . have no fear, you’ve got all year! Hell, you’ve still got 6 or 7 unfinished puzzles from previous years laying about the house for all to see your sense of fortitude, lack of adaptation or shear neglect for your own potential. Why not finish? Certainly some of those pieces were eaten by some experimental hybrid of a wolverine, a boston terrier and American alligator . . Chouncy not exactly living up to the ideals of a “house-pet” And surely, some of those pieces were swept up and away, stolen for surplus mice bedding . . whatever, it doesn’t matter why they disappeared but the achievement of participation as each piece brings the jigsaw puzzle holds the potential to exponentially expand ones full visualization, thus forth expediting the cryptic cardboard “fitting & finagling fest” In my experience, when I’ve lost a piece, had several stolen by the devious hand of a sibling or dropped a bottle of Clorox Bleach onto a ½ of the collective “painting” . . . . I just create replacement pieces based upon the needs of the puzzle and corresponding colors. Either way, you don’t want too much unfinished business dragging around into the next year, let alone year, after year . . . Clarity comes to those who seek it, your resolution should be to RESOLVE.

.) 1.) Happiness – in all of it’s many forms, this is the goal beyond any pre-ordained destiny which leads us to the next goal (they go hand-in-hand like infinite marriage of bees & flowers one needing pollination in order to bare fruit)

2.) Balance – work not being everything . . . love/companionship, quality family time, spirituality growth . . . I need to really focus on this one as it's all to easy to slip back into all work – little play

3.) Travel – I go to get my passport this week . . it’s been way too long since I’ve set out for some culture & new experiences. My goal is to see at least five new countries this new year 2012

4.) Optimum Health – yes, I know cigarettes are not exactly organic. I will permanently quit this year, continue my gym outings in grafting some washboard abs, nourishing my body with goodness

5.) Work/Finances – work smarter not so much harder . . applying the lessons of my past to create more financial freedom as well as branching out into some new arenas of writing (screenplay, cookbooks, journal), consulting (for food & beverage operations), a new Chef Scotty culinary concept (which I will share at a later date), the big screen – a culinary TV show of my own

6.) A new Car & Home – Mr. Wilson has been grateful enough to let me take over “the attic” but this lawsuit is no longer an excuse and this Taurus needs to set down some roots, a foundation to build upon . . . Sister Mary Cleo needs “the Banshee” returned to her in less than 15 days . . homey needs to get on it. The alluring option to be a vagabond for a year is gonna have to be set aside for the time being

7.) Art in the form of Painting – I want to touch the canvas again . . this writing just not quite enough to quench my thirst for creativity. I miss the process of watching something evolve slowly like a book requiring ones attention if ever to reach the final chapter. Maybe this time I won’t give away all of my creations . . honor myself and selfishly hold back the piece de resistance? Or maybe not – I enjoy so much gifting, giving a piece of myself to another . . . .

Seven rather substantial goals that no doubt are more than a years intentions. I’ll likely refine these enigmatic ideals to be a little more specific but it’s a solid rough draft. What are your goals for the new year? What about last year – did you follow through on those past inclinations or will you carry them on just as every other year . . . yourself being the only judge, only you to uphold the task of diligence, failure any easily acceptable cop out?

As I am unable to retrieve a substantial large portion of my 2011 jigsaw pieces, I’ve already replaced near to half of them with my homemade imposter cutouts; I do belief that are of acceptable likeness to the originals. Then again, it’s a big ass picture. I’ll just leave 2011 right here on the kitchen table for a little bit longer . . I still have hope for those orphaned pieces are judicially returned to me . . I believe, must believe! I must believe that no matter the outcome, I’ve got a fresh puzzle box begging to spread it’s legs, whispering tidbits of favorable flavor and unashamed of it’s declarations and desires to captivate my immediate and full attention . . . I can choose to RESOLVE with my diligence and in so being diligent . . . the tasks much lighter, much clearer, and so much more gratifying . . . the exact opposite effect of jello shots!

Happy New Years,

Chef Scotty

One of the more creative ways to serve alcohol at a New Years Eve party is to work it into gelatin, and serve the gelatin in small cups, making what most people will recognize as Jello shots. It's pretty much like making regular Jello, except with some alcohol added instead of cold water. Super easy to make – the creations and possibilities are endless, so feel free to add chopped basil or fresh sprigs of incarcerated mint . . . and remember not to sample to many of the goods or you just might wake up in the new year – your house trashed by your guests, you oblivious to the orgy unraveling on the very same bed that you passed out on . . .best to be awake and aware http://www.wikihow.com/Make-Jello-Shots-in-an-Orang.

TIPS TO THE ART OF JELLO SHOTS

You can use shot glasses, individual shot-size (1oz-3oz) plastic cups, or accordion-like squeezable cups manufactured specifically for this purpose. Although shot glasses look prettier and allow you to see the vibrant colors of the Jello, paper cups allow for easier Jello shot consumption as they can be turned inside out.
To make the Jello easier to consume, buy plastic cups that also have lids. Pour the mix into the cup, add the lid, then turn it upside down prior to refrigeration.
If you use cups with lids, you can run them under warm water for a moment or two, just before serving, to loosen them.
If you don't want to make a mess Jellinator.com sells jello shot makers as well as shot cups and lids.
To make firm shots, add a packet of Knox gelatin to the mix before adding the boiling water. It's unflavored and helps make them firm, which also makes it possible for you to make molds.
Make bubbly shots by adding soda water to the mix in place of some of the cold water.
The potent vodka shots will not be as clear as regular Jello shots.
Be creative in mixing Jello flavors with alcohol. If you have a favorite alcoholic drink, try converting it into Jello shot form using juice, soda, alcohol, and unflavored Jello. Here are some suggestions:

Orange and cherry with Brandy.
Lime Jello with tequila and Triple Sec (try adding a pinch of salt to the liquid mixture)
Lime Jello with Coconut Rum
Orange Jello with orange cognac and brandy (such as Grand Marnier) or peach Schnapps
Unflavored gelatin with Coca Cola and rum
Cranberry Jello with vodka
Cherry Jello with cherry brandy
Raspberry Jello with raspberry Schnapps
Tropical fruit Jello (or unflavored gelatin mixed with fruit punch) with dark rum or mango liqueur
Unflavored Jello with lemonade and whiskey
Strawberry Jello with light rum and strawberry liqueur (such as Pucker)
Apricot Jello with amaretto
Lime Jello with Sake
Lime Jello with Sprite, Pimm's, and cucumber garnish
Lemon Jello with Lemon Juice, Midori, and Vodka
Strawberry Jello with champagne (retains some bubbles!)
Orange Jello with amaretto
Pineapple Jello with coconut rum
Blue Jello with Everclear
Black Cherry with Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum
Orange Jello with Absolut Mandarin
Lime Jello with Tequila
Pineapple Jello with Mango Rum
Lime Jello with Southern Comfort-SOCO and Lime Shot
Orange Jello with Absolut Mandarin Vodka
Cherry Jello with Chocolate liqueur
Strawberry Banana Jello with strawberry vodka
Strawberry Jello with Tropical Banana Malibu

WARNINGS . . . READ BEFORE SAMPLING THE DRUNKEN JELLY BITS!!!!

Jello is not a vegetarian dessert. Gelatin is a protein produced by partial hydrolysis of collagen extracted from the bones, connective tissues, organs, and some intestines of animals. If any of your guests are vegetarian or vegan, consider vegan jelly mixes rather than gelatin. Most supermarkets will stock these.
Do not transfer boiling water directly into shot containers.
Even though Jello shots taste like candy, they each contain as much or more alcohol than a beer, wine or shot, so warn your guests, wait a few minutes between shots and count your drinks.
Jello stains are difficult to clean. Club soda and ice water help avoid stains caused by spills.
Make sure the kids don't mistake this for ordinary Jello.
Jello can fade if exposed to sunlight too long. If you want to keep the freshest color, keep it in a dark place until you serve.