The Cooking Critic

I had already started a story in my head about how I called multiple grocery stores in the Los Angeles area asking about red velvet cake mixes, no one knew what I was talking about, and isn’t that strange? But as it turns out, red velvet cake, a mild chocolate cake dyed red and typically served with cream cheese frosting, is a Southern phenomenon, which baffles me since it’s not as if red food coloring and chocolate cake are indigenous to the South. And while I couldn’t find any reason why Southerners are partial to the cake, I did figure out how it came to be: the term “red velvet cake” comes from the fact that the cocoa used in the 30s-40s (or thereabouts as far as I can tell) made the cake reddish-brown. Modern cocoa has more alkaline in it and no longer produces this color, so red dye is added to achieve the hue instead. (Thank you Wikepedia.)

But I doubt my brother cared about the historical and cultural relevance of the red velvet cake when he requested it every year for his birthday growing up. Today he turns 28. I was going to use red velvet cake mix to make some cakey cookies (I’ve done this before with lemon cake mix), and ship them to him. But since California doesn’t carry red velvet cake mix, he got Heath Bar Chocolate Chip Cookies instead, mainly because I’ve been wanting to try them.

Still, I did have Michael in mind. I called Mom and Dad and quizzed them on Michael’s favorite flavors. Their response, “Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe peanut butter?” When I think about it, I realize Michael doesn’t voice his opinion on foods so often. I believe he likes a balsamic vinegar linguine with bacon and goat cheese that I make, but besides that and red velvet cake, nothing else comes to mind. His main concern when we made food in our family was the ease in making it and the ease in cleaning it up. In fact, when we were pre-teens and assigned to make a meal once a week, I’d go about making homemade breadsticks and strawberry chicken. When Michael cooked, he made something along the lines of hot dogs and macaroni and cheese. His specialty was baked chicken fingers well-seasoned and doused in butter. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy them.

But back to the glories of toffee. The reason cookies with toffee candy appeal to me (and hopefully my brother) is because my family went on a toffee bar craze when we first discovered Skors. I’ve always preferred the Skor to the Heath bar, which is why I used it in this recipe despite the fact the recipe is called “Heath Bar Chocolate Chip Cookies.” Perhaps I like Skor simply because I met it first, and it introduced me to the world of toffee. But I’ve always thought it tasted better too, and I felt vindicated when an examination of the ingredients of the two candy bars revealed Heath had more unpronounceable ingredients than Skor. It also revealed both candy bars are made by Hershey, which I thought was very strange.

I suspected Michael must have the same fondness for the Skor bar that I do since we grew up in the same Skor-obsessed household, so I decided these cookies would be up his alley. And here’s a picture of my brother pretending he can operate machinery. He’s got a bit of a Burt Reynolds thing going on these days.

Happy birthday, Bear!

Assessment (of the cookies, not my brother): When I first tasted a warm Skor Bar Chocolate Chip Cookie, I determined they’re better in theory than in actuality. The toffee distracted rather than added to what is primarily a chocolate chip cookie with oatmeal and walnuts mixed in. But I adjusted my opinion when I tried the cookies cold. The toffee added something more when the Skor bits solidified into a buttery crunch rather than when they were sticky and oozy. So my final verdict is: if you’re bringing cookies somewhere with you, than try out these chewy Skor cookies (an adjustment involving 3/4 cup butter and ¼ cup shortening might have helped the texture of this cookie). But if you’re mixing up a batch to eat out of the oven, stick to the tried and true regular old chocolate chip cookie—they’re hard to beat.

Lasagna is one of the most overrated dishes that has ever existed in the history of mankind. This, I realize, is a big, bold statement, but I think I can say it with confidence. Despite the fact I’ve thought this for at least eight years now (ever since a particularly atrocious date that, no, I don’t believe has overly influenced my feelings regarding lasagna,) I still feel compelled to order it on occasion. In general, I prefer to order something new and intriguing, but sometimes the idea of cheese, red sauce and noodles proves too much, and I end up with a slab of lasagna in front of me. And then I remember I’m not that into lasagna, despite all the glorious cheese.

But all lasagnas aren’t created equal. My cousin, Wendy, for example, makes an excellent, particularly well-balanced lasagna that had me returning for seconds before others had finished getting their firsts. (Honestly, you should just stay out of my way when I’m hungry.) Since I had some polenta firming up in the fridge from an earlier recipe, I decided to try the Polenta Lasagna with Tomatoes and Peppers recipe that had always caught my eye in American Bistro, despite how stupidly long it was. I’m pretty sure that using Prego instead of making a homemade tomato and pepper sauce doesn’t count as a significant change that entitles me to name the dish my own, but I’m going to anyways: Christine’s Cheesy Polenta and Spinach Tower.

Adjustments: So I didn’t take the dental floss and slice the polenta down the middle like I was told to, and this is probably why my lasagna looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa (or, rather, the Leaning Tower of Chees-a—hoo hoo hoo ha ha ha, man, I’m funny.) In the future, I will use dental floss, as instructed—at the very least, it probably makes for a much prettier presentation. Since I had plans to go out this evening, there was no way on God’s green earth that I was going to make a homemade red sauce (so I did not include that recipe here.) So Prego it was! Also, I didn’t follow the polenta instructions, which don’t vary much from recipe to recipe anyways, as far as I can tell. I used my already prepared polenta, which I made this way, though American Bistro’s version sounds good to me with their onions and their garlic. But honestly, I wouldn’t hesitate to use pre-made polenta with this, especially if I’m making it for just myself or perhaps one other person that I’m not overly concerned about impressing. There are so many other things going on with this dish, I can’t imagine anyone would notice. Except maybe those polenta experts you have over on occasion.

Assessment: I enjoyed myself more than I normally do when it comes to this dish, perhaps because I fulfilled both my mysterious desire for lasagna and my more understandable desire to try something new. The dish is very, very filling, yet the recipe writers were right that a light, fluffy filling of spinach and ricotta is a nice foil for the denser, richer polenta. And when you ignore half the directions on this particular recipe (by using pre-cooked polenta and tomato sauce from a jar,) it is, in fact, simple to prepare, even though they seem to be trying their hardest to convince you otherwise. Still, with assembly time and 30 minutes cooking in the oven, describing it as “relatively easy” does feel like a stretch. I assume when people think of “easy,” they’re thinking “nearly instant.” This dish is certainly not that.

I’ve been seduced by polenta’s fancy Italian ways. Don’t tell grits since they’re really no different than polenta. Grits will be hurt. We grew up in the same place after all.

Actually, it’s not so much that I’ve been seduced by polenta as that I now have a box of instant polenta in my cupboard that I feel the need to use. So I determined I’d make Grilled Polenta, and Grilled Polenta told me it should be eaten with Grilled Lime-Cilantro Chicken with Tomatillo Salsa, so I obeyed.

Adjustments: Even though both of these dishes have the word “grilled” in their title, I didn’t grill them since I don’t own a grill. I fried the polenta instead, which broke apart and looked more like funnel cake in the end. And who honestly has time to make a tomatillo salsa when they have two other dishes to make from scratch? I used the regular ole salsa that I already had, and it worked.

Assessment: I ate the polenta as a main dish porridge/vegetarian meal one night and had no real thoughts on it but liked it quite a bit a couple nights later fried up and paired with the chicken. Turned out Polenta was right, it does taste good with this chicken dish. And two thumbs up for the chicken recipe, which consists of a zingy, tasty, easy marinade, yay!