Is he a trick, or a treat?

With pumpkins carved and ghosts hung around town, the scary tale of the perfect phantom man begins. Whether you binge on sweet candy corn or on sugary men, in the end both lead to a crash. He disappears....then reappears....only to fade again into the past.

There I was at the bar, reveling in my usual skeptical-about-men mood, when he emerged out of the fog of chain smokers. I was standing on the patio with my friend glaring at the whorifying female skeletons who had taken over the random stripper poll on the dance floor, when I heard a deep and dark voice, huskily whisper in my ear. "Aren't you going to get up there?"

AHHHHHHHHH!!!! Creepy to the maximum! Who sneaks up on a person like that?!?!

"Hell no!" I exclaimed, retreating as though someone had asked me to bury a body. I turned around, and there he was. All six-foot-six of him. Now, I am a little girl. Five-foot-one-inch to be exact. Something about him lured me in though, and like an innocent damsel entering into the dark woods on a moonless night with no flashlight, I took my chances. I adventured on towards the unknown, leaving a candy corn trail behind to lead me back to the light; I'd actually give this guy a chance, even though we met in a bar. A hint of self-deprecation, yes, but there is something about the allure of bad guys that draws me to them.

After a few beers and seemingly great conversation I caught myself thinking that this guy might actually be a treat, just the one to satisfy my sweetooth. He excused himself to the restroom and I stayed where we were so that he would know where to find me. I didn't want this trick-or-treater to accidentally ring the wrong bell!

So I waited. And then I ordered another drink. I waited some more. I went outside again with my friend, a little bit puzzled by his tricky Ding-Dong-Ditch scheme!

Talking to my friend about how great he had seemed, the hair on my neck prickled and I felt a gaze burning through the back of my skull. As though caught in a stun-gun ray of intrigue, my head turned itself around to find him walking toward me, his eyes locked in anticipation. I found my resolve to ignore him dissolve into reingited interest. He seemed so perfect! Dedicated to his passions, he wanted to save the enviroment (I'm a hippie at heart). To top it off, he was tall and mysterious.

Our first kiss was that night, and honestly, it was epic. I don't say that a lot, mainly because kissing takes so much chemestry that a perfect smooch comes few and far between. I've found myself kissing a deep sea driller, who tried to navigate his way deep down to the pits of my soul. Or once I locked lips with this multi-tasking power washer, who wanted to wash my face with his in an attempt to create that intimate moment. It's enough to scare me off, running for my life down the street.

So let's call this bite of eye candy Tiny Tim. All 6' 6" had me spellbound. He asked at the end of our tryst, and I agreed to go to dinner with him the next night.

The ring of the phone the next morning sent chills up my spine. "Hello?" He called about dinner. I was thinking I might get some candy for my basket too. Maybe he wasn't wearing a mask, and his face and form were real. He came over that evening, we had a drink, and we went and met up with my friends. He won them over just as he charmed me the night before. He bought a round of drinks, and swayed even the hardest to win over. An unerasable smile spread across my face, I was so happy. A good guy, finally!

I said goodbye the next day before he headed back home to Austin, and he asked if he could come back up next weekend. Wait, did I forget to say that he was from a different city? That had come trick-or-treating in my neighborhood instead of hunting for candy in his own? Well, needless to say I was thrilled to make the plan, and cleared my calendar for the visit.

Guess what happened next???? I never heard from him again.

Could it be true? Was his charm a Prince Charming costume? If it was, damn, did he stay in character. I don't know if I want to high five him, or slap him across the face. If he was a player, my play-dar was way off. I am usually good at detecting phantom interest. Like a true villian, he drew me too him with a bewitching spell - his face, his body, his voice. That's how it works. I always yell at those stupid girls in the movies. The clumsy tripping girls that stop while the bad guy is chasing them, to look at the dead bodies, and then end up one themselves because they weren't paying attention. But guess what? I was that girl this time, that casualty of distraction. Candy corn tastes great and is areal treat...until it rots your teeth and you end up in the dentist's chair paying for his holiday trip to Hawaii!

Instead of running from something that I knew would hurt me, I found myself running towards it with open arms. It's called Trick-or-Treat for a reason, and you don't know which you'll get. Even better - you don't know if that treat is going to become a trick in the end. So take a lesson from horror films, and apply it to life. You may not meet anyone worth meeting in a bar. Even if he is a good person at heart, you might end up the prey in the drinking hole. So instead of being a victim this Halloween, be the girl that out smarts the bad guy and crush him in his tracks. Don't you want to be there to see the end of your movie?

Homemade Candy Corn (This recipe is adapted from a traditional recipe that has been widely circulated)

1 cup granulated sugar

2/3 cup corn syrup

1/3 cup (2-1/2 oz) butter

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2-1/2 cups powdered sugar

1/3 cup powdered milk

1/4 teaspoon salt

Red and yellow food coloring - maybe green if you want to make pumkins!

In a large saucepan combine granulated sugar, corn syrup, and butter. Bring to a boil over high heat while stirring constantly, then reduce heat to medium and continue boiling for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Remove mixture from heat and add vanilla extract.

Combine the icing sugar, powdered milk, and salt in a separate bowl and slowly add to the mixture in the saucepan 1/2 cup at a time, mixing thoroughly. Allow the dough mixture to sit until it's cool enough to handle.

Divide the dough into 3 equal parts and place each part in separate mixing bowls to add the color to it! Mix orange food coloring to one part (yellow + red) and yellow food coloring to another part, leaving the remaining part white.

Knead the dough in each bowl until smooth and stiff enough to hold its shape. The coloring should be blended evenly. Wearing plastic gloves keeps your hands staining! Roll each part into a long, thin rope, making each rope of equal length. It may help to cover your workspace with a strip of waxed paper to keep from sticking. Also take care not to roll the ropes too thinly as thhey can easily break. When you're done, lay the three ropes of dough along side each other with the orange dough in the middle and carefully press them together to make a long, narrow rectangle. A gentle, light rolling with a rolling pin along the length of the rectangle helps to press the rope edges together, but be careful not to flatten the dough so the rectangle stays as narrow as possible, plus you'll also want the kernels plump looking and not flat.Finally, cut the dough into triangles or "kernels" using a sharp knife and gently shape the kernels with your fingers, if needed. Allow the kernels to sit for a while and become firm.

You'll end up with over a pound of homemade candy corn, some with yellow tips and some with the traditional white tips.

The Perfect Meal

If you are lucky enough to have found love in your life, you've probably lost it as well. It hurts when the love ends, the burn of rejection is painful for both parties and takes time to get over. We hope that we can move on, and use the pain to avoid the same mistakes again in the future.

But what happens if the relationships don't end badly enough? When the memory of how good it was outlasts the breakup blues? We want to feel good that past loves have moved on. We want them to be happy, to find what they deserve. That is, until you wake up one day and realize that your wish came true. That they are happy, and with someone else.

It's like the Perfect Meal that can never be recreated. I was on vacation a couple years ago, traveling through a distant land sampling the flavors of local cuisine. The final night of the trip, I treated myself to a fancy dinner at an acclaimed restaurant that I read about in my travel book. I lavishly ordered my meal as recommended by the server, paired it with a fine local wine, and sat overlooking the coastline glowing with the descending sun. When the meal was served, I reflected the dusk glow in delight as I savored every last bite of the meal. Never had I eaten a dish so delectable that fulfilled every fantasy I've formed about food. I chewed slowly, sipped wine between each bite, and cleansed the palette with water so that every bite seemed like the first. I sadly scraped the last morsel from my plate.


Is it silly to be saddened by the end of a meal? On the same note, is it selfish to be saddened by this progression to the next love? You crave the connection you had to the plate, and you crave the connection you had with your mate. You want nothing more than to write an email, or make a call to say hi after all these years. They are happy now, but it's hard to just leave it alone. There lingers a need for reassurance that they still care, even after all these years. The memory of taste lingers with you long after dinner has ended. Even though you still think about dinner, time moves on and you have to think about breakfast, then lunch....and all of a sudden it's time for a new dinner.


The thing is, when you make that call, send that email or come face to face with them, it will never be what you imgained. People change and so do we, which only creates more of a distance between where you used to be with them, and where you find yourself now. It's like the amazing meal that you once had, that no matter what, you can never recreate. Lincoln once said "Its not how many years in your life you've lived, but how much life in your years."


Many times since that most perfect meal, I've attempted to recreate the dish. Poached seabass stuffed with creamed spinach, lying atop a bed of fresh tomatoes, encircled by a ring of creamy potato goodness. I remember so clearly how it tasted. And every attempt is good, just not as good as that Perfect Meal.


We hold onto memories. Slight glipses from our past, that coach us through the present. These insights are directly connected to our hearts. After years go by it is so much easier to remember the good than the bad. That one second of a kiss, or a look they gave you engraves itself in your soul. But life isn't like that. Relationships can't be glued together by a moment. Even if that moment was your own personal love story. Relationships are work. They are not always light and pretty and beautiful.


Sometimes it take years to understand what you had. With all the answers you sought at that time, only now do you have the capability to understand the questions. What really matters? The little annoyances seems so petty now, but they meant a lot at the time.


I think the answer to the question is every love has a meaning. Just like every meal has its place in the day, every love meets some need for fulfillment. It is not a meaning that is beyond our control, but how we use the lesson that the meaning provides. How to not screw it up in the future, but to appreciate what we have. Sometimes we have to lose before we can understand what is missing. Sometimes our biggest lost is our greatest discovery. To be able to accept your mistakes in the past is one of the greatest things a person can possess. To be able to see it is a true virtue. Look at what you have learned and embrace it. These loves have taught you more about yourself than even you know. People say you fall to pick yourself back up again, but I think you fall to experience pain. To deepen your empathy. To understand that you will always fall, and that you need to always be strong enough to take it. You have to keep that pain of falling in your memory and use it. Use it to appreciate what you feel when you are standing, because the moment you forget, you will fall again in a friendly reminder to keep appreciation. Remember pain is there for a reason. It's there to tell us something is wrong. Neither pain nor happiness would exist with out the other. So be strong and feel the pain. Use the happy memories to catapolt you up to the sky. Keep trying to recreate that same dish with the understanding that it will never be the same, but may be a Perfect Meal in a different way. Life's a rollercoaster so buckle up and make it through. Try to smile and scream and feel everything along the way!

Sea Bass Poached in a Court Bouillon with Sauteed Batonnet of Carrots and Zucchini:

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup minced shallots
• 1 tablespoon minced garlic
• 2 cups court bouillon, recipe follows
• 4 (4-ounce) sea bass fillets, skin removed
• Salt and white pepper
• 4 ounces, 1 stick, cubed, cold unsalted butter
• 1 tablespoon freshly chopped tarragon
• 1 tablespoon freshly chopped chervil, plus more for garnish
• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon butter
• 1 1/2 cups carrots, cut into batonnet (1/4 by 1/4-inch by 2 1/2 to 3 inches)
• 1 1/2 cups zucchini, cut into batonnet
• 2 tablespoons water

Directions

Place a 12-inch saute pan on the stove, add the shallots, garlic and court bouillon to the pan. Set over a high heat and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a gentle simmer and cook for 5 minutes. Season the sea bass fillets on both sides with the salt and white pepper. Place the fillets in the poaching liquid and cover with a lid, or a buttered round of parchment paper. Cook the fish for 5 to 6 minutes, or until cooked through.

Remove the fillets from the poaching liquid using a slotted metal spatula and place on a warm plate loosely covered with aluminum foil. Put the plate in a warm place while you make the sauce. Raise the heat to high and reduce the court bouillon for about 10 minutes, or until reduced to 1/2 cup. Lower the heat, and add the butter to the pan a little at a time. Use a whisk to stir the cold butter into the sauce and season with salt and white pepper. Sprinkle the tarragon and chervil into the sauce and return the fish to the pan. Place the pan over a medium-low heat and warm the fish through, about 1 minute.

In a 10-inch saute pan, set over a medium-heat, add the olive oil and 1 teaspoon of butter to the pan. Once the butter has melted, add the carrots to the pan and saute, stirring often for 1 1/2 minutes. Add the zucchini and 2 tablespoons of water to the pan and continue to cook for 2 minutes more. Season the vegetables with salt and white pepper and divide among 4 warmed entree plates. Place a sea bass fillet over the vegetables and divide the sauce among the 4 plates as well. Garnish with chervil.

Court Bouillon:

2 quarts water

2 cups dry white wine

1/4 cup lemon juice

1 1/2 cups small dice onion

3/4 cup small dice carrots

3/4 cup small dice celery

1/2 cup small dice leeks

1 tablespoon whole black peppercorns

2 bay leaves

3 sprigs fresh thyme

1/2 bunch parsley stems

Combine all the ingredients into a 4-quart saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer and continue to cook for 45 minutes. Strain the bouillon and use immediately, or cool and refrigerate for later use. The bouillon may also be frozen and kept for several months.

31 Flavors of Fallacy

It isn't hard to identify the sweet sound of childhood melodies as it drives up the road blasting from the tinny speakers on a hot summer's day. It's the ice cream truck. Children chase after it, excited to devour an icy treat.

The unique thing about the ice cream truck, besides the sometimes creepy proprietor driving it, is that it comes to you. It's constantly on the move. Never staying in one place too long, but gracing neighborhoods across the map with it's delightful presence. The ice cream truck unexpectedly puts you in the mood for frosty flavors, a fudgicle or a strawberry short cake bar, inspired by the rhythmic tinkling of You Are My Sunshine on your eardrum. It's actually a genius concept: it gives you what you want, it brings it directly to you, and it cleverly links three of my favorite senses in harmony. Vision, taste and sound are all susceptible to the ice cream truck's charms.

But what happens when one kid always holds up the line, asking to try the different flavors before he makes his purchase? Every other kid in line thought about it earlier in the day, or even earlier in the week. Some kids have known since their last ice cream cone, the kind of ice cream that they're going to try next time. Not this kid; this kid wants to sample every flavor and tests the patience of the ice cream truck as well as the other kids on the block. This kid knows he can get away with it, because the ice cream truck wants his allowance. This kid ends up like a stalled truck's Yankee Doodle tune: tired, overplayed, and even annoying.

I have a friend who recently bid farewell to a five-year relationship. We'll call her Susie. She packed up her things and set out to search for new flavors in the hopes that she'd find one that suits her better.

Traveling for work, Susie chatted up a good looking guy at the airport bar. He was cute, friendly, and seemingly successful. He was the hot fudge to top her cold ice cream, and she found herself slowly melting with his charm. The cherry on top - he happened to live in the same area as her. Their seats were next to each other on the plane, so the lively conversation over drinks turned into an intimate conversation mid-air. Like the first taste of a rocket pop, it left colorful evidence of a good time. He kept telling her how he's never met anyone liker her, and how it's so hard to find someone so REAL these days. They spent the 4-hour layover in Denver wrapped in sweet conversation sprinkled with intense flirtation. The two exchanged numbers and decided to meet up the next week.


He texted her over the weekend - "Hey cutie, let's meet at the Yardhouse on Wednesday for drinks." She accepted, familiar with the location and looking forward to the date. It was the same thrilling feeling that the ice cream truck brings to your tummy when as it sings down the block, anticipation to get a whole scoop of the flavor you only sampled last week.


On Tuesday, Susie was entertaining some business clients who wanted to go out for a drink after work. One of them mentioned the Yardhouse, and how she heard that they have great specials. After trying to dissuade the group from going to the same locale that she knew she'd be at the next night, my friend caved in and joined them there. She assessed the room, checking the scene imagining how perfect the setting will be for her and Prince Charming. She scoped out where they should sit, and what she should order, as a girl is likely to do. As she previewed the evening in her mind, reality took her head in its hands and pointed her toward a familiar face. A quick double take, and she was shocked to spot who? The airport guy! At least, maybe it's him...but no it can't be...is he - wait, he's with a date?? He brought a date to the same restaurant today, that he's going to take me to tomorrow?? It was like brain freeze of the heart!


His hot caramel sauciness had melted her heart, but now dissolved the whole affair into a gooey mess in no time. She would fudge her way out of the date the next night, that's for sure. What should she do now? What could she do? It was awkward, and embarassing but he wasn't terribly in the wrong. It's like when you dribble a little sundae onto your shirt - nothing you can do about it, and it doesn't make the sundae any less tasty. How could she not have seen it coming? She is NOT in the busines for re-used popsicle sticks, and has no interest being treated as one cookie in an ice cream sandwich.


Susie decided to take the high road. Be the better person. After all, Baskin Robbins boasts 31 flavors, and this guy's single scoop of vanilla pales in comparison. Of course, she would also play him at his own game. Like two kids fighting for the last Orange Dream Creamsicle, she would not step down. She would fight this battle not just for herself, but for all the other women out there craving the same delectable treat: to be treated with a little respect.


She grabbed one of her male co-workers and filled him in. He spoke to the wait staff, and it turns out that this was the guy's regular spot. They had ever so observantly noticed his monopolizing presence for some time. He even had the nerve to take out one of the servers, and then bring a different date in the next night. This waitress was in for Operation Meltdown.


The waitress approached the table and explained that she had an emergency and would have to leave, but that one of their very best servers would be taking over. Susie wiped the smile off her face and walked toward the table. As the two customers viewed their menus intently, the akward silence of first date conversation stalled, she said, "Can I answer any questions for you about our specials? Oh wait, you already know what the Tuesday night specials are, don't you? They are the same every week."


Complete horror filled his face as he met her eyes. Guilt and embarrassment churned in his stomach like old fashion ice cream. He was chilled by the salt in her icy tone: "May I recomend not getting the tenderloin? It looks good and it sounds great, but it's overdone, overrated and is full of baloney." The oblivious girl on the date seemed pleased by the advice, because she was about to order that very same plate-of course she was.

This guy was that kid at the ice cream counter, asking to sample all the flavors but never buying a full scoop of any one of them! If you always go to the same spot, you are bound to be stopped in your sampling. And maybe he kept taking dates to the same restaurant, and maybe they kept falling for his recycled lines. Susie didn't want to stand in line waiting for him to decide that her taste was best. She certainly wasn't about to be put up as the Flavor of the Month, only to be sent back to the back freezer the next month. I encourage people to test out different styles, to date around, to sample the crowd - that is what adult dating is about. However, it's messy to bring every date to the same spot. Tasting flavor after flavor, asking sample after sample from the same ice cream truck, and someone is bound to catch on eventually and cut you off. So if you find yourself running eagerly down the road after that childhood tune in hopes of catching happiness, just remember to keep your wits about you and to always look both ways when crossing, you don't want to get blind sided by your treat!


Mudslide Pie
Ingredients

For the crust:

• 7 ounces chocolate cookie crumbs, plus more for garnish
• 2 tablespoons butter, melted

For the filling:

• 3 (1-quart) containers coffee ice cream
• Chocolate sauce
• Chopped nuts, optional

For the crust:

Directions

Using a large mixing bowl, place cookie crumbs and melted butter. Mix until the ingredients are well blended and moist. Keep mixture at room temperature until needed for pie shells.

Lightly spray 2 pie tins with vegetable oil. Place the prepared crust into the pie tins and press firmly on the bottom and sides of each tin, forming a smooth and even thickness approximately 1/8-inch thick. Use a ladle to even out the crusts. Place the pie crusts in freezer before ice cream can be placed into crusts.

For the filling:

Equally portion the ice cream into the pie shells. Mound the ice cream to create a 3-inch high dome. Use a glove and napkin to help with this process. Place pies on a sheet pan and place in the freezer for approximately 6 hours or more.

To serve, drizzle with chocolate sauce and sprinkle with more cookie crumbs and chopped nuts, if desired.

Butter me up, baby

Some men toe the fine line between showing disinterest and showing too much interest. Some men come across as overwhelmingly desperate, calling three times a day to "check in" and showing up unannounced on Girls' Night. Still other men play it distant - so distant in fact that you can't tell if he even remembers the amazing conversation that you had, or the way you seemed to have blended so well that night. Maybe these guys just aren't interested? That's an easy enough suggestion to swallow with a nice glass of vino. Why is it though, that the next time we meet he's on me like butter on toast; so available and friendly in person that it makes it hard to melt around the room meeting new people?

This man that doesn't pick up the phone and call is like a plate of cold butter. Seemingly solid, frozen to the touch, unmovable and impenetrable, he doesn't seem to blend into anything that I'm trying to create. It takes a lot of work, some high heat, and a really sharp knife to get any flakes of attention off this cold butter man, and I wonder if it's worth the time or if I should make the switch to margarine and call it a day. It's frustrating when it doesn't spread on toast, poking holes in the whole wheat of my self confidence. It's infuriating when it lies in chunks on my waffles, a salty mouthful of fat overpowering the sweetness of my syrup. It's more than a little annoying when the pieces stand out solidly in my cookie dough, leaving the eggs, flour and sugar to circle around the floating mass. This guy could easily warm up and make my sauce glisten, but instead he just sits there all cold, greasy and glazed over, impossible to ply into anything. Should I throw it in the fire and make it melt? Should I just leave him to sit alone on the counter, hoping that one day he'll change into something I can work with?

Certain recipes call for butter to be next to frozen. Fold the cold chunks of butter into the croissant of my life, and perfectly create an airy and ever-so flaky delight. The melt-in-your-mouth crust of a pie calls for cold butter and ice water to ensure the layers fall over each other to create that desirable blend of texture. The colder the butter and the more of it I use, the flakier the layers of my pastry. This guy does fit into my pantry, but only if I stick to baking pastries and let the other chapters of my cookbook sit on the shelf. As a result, more of those pesky fat cells cling to my welcoming hips, and my heart clogs with his cholesterol contributions. So is it worth giving up the rest of the meal just to accommodate my Frozen Butter Man? Is it worth changing your life to accommodate the whims of a guy that won't make an effort to fit into your life?

No. The fact is, if an ingredient that you are considering adding to your dish isn't ready for it, then you may need to get creative and find one that is. If the butter is frozen, and you need it warm and mushy for what you have cooking, don't settle for a hard block of lard, because your dish won't be what you want it to be. On the other hand, croissants need butter to create that light and fluffy texture. They wouldn't be the same without it. So do flakey men serve a purpose? They teach us that even something cold and hard can create something light and delicious, if that's specifically what you are looking to serve. These men have vast potential, so why don't they warm up and get something cooking? Should we sit around and hope that one day he'll melt down and call? The answer is no. When shopping the aisle for ingredients or scoping the scene for a man, make sure to pick what works for your dish. Don't change your menu just because the butter is cold.


World's best Croissants:


Ingredients:
1 cup warm milk
1 tsp sugar
1 tbsp yeast
1 cup flour
3/4 cup milk at room temperature
1 1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup sugar (second amount)
1 beaten egg
1/2 cups melted and cooled butter
4 cups flour
1 cup cold butter (second amount)
1 egg beaten with cold water for wash


Directions:

Stir warm milk and sugar together. Add yeast then let stand 10 minutes. Stir well. Add flour; beat well. Add milk, sugar and egg. Beat until smooth. Add butter; beat and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, place the 4 cups of flour and the chilled butter. Cut butter into flour until pieces are the size of beans (not too small). Pour the liquid batter into the flour mixture; stir until moistened. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours or overnight.
Remove from refrigerator. Press into a compact ball on a floured board and divide into 4 parts. Roll each into a circle 12" or 16". Cut each circle into 6 or 8 pie-shaped wedges. For each croissant, roll a wedge towards the point. Shape into a crescent and place on ungreased baking sheet. Let rise at room temperature until doubled. This could take in excess of two hours.
Brush each with egg beaten with cold water. Preheat oven to 400 F. Place croissants in oven. Lower temperature to 350 F and bake recipe croissant for 15 - 20 minutes until golden.

Jack is Hungry for some Instant Mashed Potatoes

Everyone has something special, something unique that shines through the outer package and catches another's eye. That inner sparkle can lie dormant for a lifetime, until one day someone or something comes along and causes the person to bloom before your very eyes. It's like a box of instant mashed potatoes. You think it's nothing but powder, but add some liquid and, poof! It's grown into a meal to feed an army. The texture is smooth, creamy, and the flavors are well-balanced. Who would have guessed that such a boring, bland, and previously unintriguing box could yield the perfect compliment to your main dish?

There's a guy that I dated for a minute that reminds me of this box of instant mashed potatoes. We went out a couple of times, and I can honestly say that I knew it wouldn't work out by the end of the first date. I thought to myself, well, go out again and maybe he will grow on you. Unfortunately the spark just wasn't there...and I had to tell him. He was crushed! I never thought that I would have that effect on a person, but tears sprang to his eyes when I clearly indicated that he would not be getting a good night kiss. Yikes!

I felt bad, in fact I felt horrible hurting him like that. However, I only had tepid feelings for him. Nice guy all around - smart, sweet, successful - but not what I was looking for. So a few weeks ago I ran into this guy at a party with some mutual friends. He was absolutely glowing with happiness. Friendly, outgoing, cracking jokes and looking great! What on earth caused such a transformation?? Our mutual friend took me aside and asked with a serious look in her face, "Are you uncomfortable? Is this bad for you? I mean he's here with his new girlfriend, I know I would absolutely die." I assured her that it was not a problem and that I would be fine. It was more than fine - it was another mystery solved!!

The two of them clearly had a lot in common, and were smitten for each other. She seemed to bring out a side of him that I had never seen before. The fact is, she was the hot water to his powdered potatoes and together they created a desirable mix that everyone wanted to taste.

Now, I have been known to eat a whole box of instant mashed potatoes. The key element is that I added boiling hot water to the powder, and it transformed them into what I was craving. If the water isn't hot, then the powder just sinks to the bottom, separated and grainy. No one wants to try a taste, it doesn't compliment any dish, and it's likely to end up thrown down the cold garbage disposal of rejected romance.

So if you are out there on the dating scene, remember that it takes the right ingredients to blend together and make a winning dish. Gauge the temperature, gauge the time, and keep in mind that you are the one that has to take care of the leftovers - make it something you want to eat again!

Beef Stew Thickened with Instant Mashers- Quick Fix for a Flavorful Ending!


Ingredients
Vegetable oil for searing

• Flour for dredging
• 2 1/2 pounds beef chuck, cut into 2-inch cubes
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons of instant mashed potatoes
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 medium onions, cut into sixths
• 5 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste
• 10 cups cold water, or chicken or beef broth, homemade or low-sodium canned
• 6 sprigs parsley
• 6 sprigs fresh thyme
• 2 bay leaves
• 1-1/4 pounds medium red potatoes, quartered
• 4 medium carrots, cut into 2-inch pieces
• 2 celery stalks, cut into 2-inch pieces
• 7 canned whole, peeled tomatoes, lightly crushed
• 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

Directions

Heat a large Dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid over medium-high heat. Pour in enough oil to fill the pan about 1/4-inch deep. Spread flour out on a plate or piece of wax paper. Season half the beef generously with salt and pepper, then dredge in the flour. Shake off the excess flour, and add to the pan. Saute the meat, uncovered, stirring only occasionally, until well-browned, about 8 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the beef to a plate. Repeat with the remaining beef. Discard the oil and wipe out the pan.

Preheat the oven to 275 degrees F. Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook potatoes in it for aprox 10 mins, or until it can be penetrated with a fork. Return the pot you cooked the meat in (dutch oven) to the stove and melt the butter over medium high heat. Add the onion and cook, stirring, until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the tomato paste and cook, stirring, until lightly browned, about 1 minute more. Return the beef to the pot and add the water or broth, and bring to a simmer. Using a piece of kitchen twine, tie together the parsley, thyme, and bay leaves and add the bundle to the pot. Season with 2 teaspoons salt and pepper to taste. Cover and transfer to the oven. Stew the meat until tender, about 1 1/2 hours.

Remove the Dutch oven from the oven. Skim the fat from the cooking liquid with a ladle. Add the potatoes, carrots, celery, and the tomatoes, and bring to a simmer. Stew, uncovered, on top of the stove, stirring occasionally, until the beef and vegetables are tender, about 45 mins. Remove and discard the herb bundle. Stir in the vinegar and 2 tablespoons of instant mashed potatoes and let thicken. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Divide among bowls and serve immediately.

Note: Beef chuck, because of its marbling of intra-muscular fat, is the choice for any type of stew. If you can't find chuck cubed for stew in your meat department, buy a thick steak and cut it into 2-inch cubes.