Two questions; what's going on, and what even is this right now ?
It's ok, I know its hard to go from No Fabes to Mo' Fabes... but we will struggle through.
What we have for you today is some straight up mini-trash quiche. Its trash quiche because my fellow chef Mme.Givili and I used whatever was in her fridge to make some tiny ass quiche pies.
WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT REALLY SPECIFIC KITCHEN EQUIPMENT ?
That right there is a pie maker, or as I dubbed it a Tart-omatron. I mean how often are you gonna need to make pies or trash quiche ? Thats not a question, that I am prepared to answer. GOOD DAY SIR.
Our misé-en-scene. Our ingredients: ham, cheeses (myriad), onions, tomatoes (questionable), eggs, I think that is some jam over there ?, frozen pie crusts, desperation.
Our plan involved an almost Fabes-esque level of genius in its simplicity.
Crack Eggs and put them in a bowl and just whisk the everloving christ out of them.
I'm talking about, tilted bowl, arm straining, collateral splatter and stares from co-chefs.
DO YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME ?
Get that TRASH OUTTA HERE.
Ohhh Daaaaamn ! Can we get a zoom/de-hance here ?
No, its not a puddle in South Jersey, it is a mini quiche.
We loaded up that pre-made pie crust with our melange-fluid, then covered the top with the crusts.
I think they look like flowers.
Let them sizzle in that Tart-omaton.
OHHHH GOD DAMN. THIS IS THE UGLY DUCKLING IN QUICHE FORM. DAAAAAMN.
My fantastic co-chef gets angry at me when I take a picture. I only take candids, it is a personal philosophy. Posed photographs are false feelings. Only the truth of the candid can capture true experience and also funny faces.
A true embarrassment of torts ! We don't need to reform these torts ! Legal jokes. Never funny.
For a quick dinner made with leftovers these were tasty and filling ! What you know about kitchen logistical efficiency scruuuuuub ?
Alright, thats more than enough of my rambles and brambles. Brambles. Brambles. BRAMBLES.
Ok lost track there for a minute.
This is your Chef de Cuisine, Signing off.
This tale bears telling, so stoke your fires, sit in your lion foot chairs and pet your regal hounds. Open a nice brandy and put on your smoking jacket. I will wait, I know thats gonna take a while, I mean who can remember where they left their smoking jacket anyway ?
Right.
One day, my housemate M.Cruice entered the doorway with the maniac zeal that is his oeuvre and proudly displayed a beer brewing kit. It contained all the necessary tools and ingredients to create a delicious Hefeweizan or wheat beer for the uninformed. I looked upon it; and it was good. We followed the instructions to the letter, or y'know close enough, we are busy men. Soon we had a bubbling pot of what I had dubbed "Wimblebräu" on our stove, named after our house "Wimbledon".
We smelled of it; and it was good. A side note, I wanted to call our house "The Bro Hole" but got vetoed. THEY LAUGHED AT DAVINCI TOO. Anyways, our fatal mistake when we transferred the piping hot wort (unfermented beer) {pleb} into the glass Carboy (Glass jug in which fermentation takes place) {prole}, without cooling it in an ice bath first. The results were..... I won't say explosive, but fragmentary. But like true Brewmeisters we refused to be denied WE WOULD TRY AGAIN WITH ANOTHER KIT.
Step the first.
Teabag some fine-ass hops into some boiling water for 15 minutes. Turn the burner off during teabagging.
This is exactly as funny looking as it sounds.
Brewing beer smells like Bread it is nice.
After Teabagging bring the wort back up to boil.
Stir that ISH
Add in 1/2 your HOPS, then bring to boil for 30 minutes.
Add in rest of hops and, BAVARIAN WHEATS
Stir it UNTIL ZERE IS NO CLUMPING SCHNELL
1hr long boil. Reflect on your life, your choices. Maybe have a cup of tea.
After 1hr you are ready for ZE COOLER. Ze Cooler is our bathroom sink full of ice, we are high tech in this house.
Keep the hot wort in the icebath until cool THEN transfer to the carboy. We did it right this time because we are big boys who learn from our mistakes.
After putting the cooled Wort in the Carboy, you then place a rubber stopper in the top and put a hose into a half full glass of water to start the carbonation process. I literally have no idea how this works. You wanna know Hegelian Dialectics or an intimate history of Spider-Man, I am your guy but chemistry and I are not on speaking terms. IT KNOWS WHAT IT DID.
After 2 days you then place the carbonating carboy HOLY SHIT I JUST GOT WHY ITS CALLED A CARBOY. Because it CARBONATES the beer ! Wow, this education has been put to well good use. Thanks Mama and Papa !
Boxman knows no fear. SWEAR TO ME.
Right, so after you let it carbonate you hide it in a dark place for 2 weeks like an old secret, only occasionally checking on it to remind yourself of the futility of existence.
Our brewery sign with signage done by yours truly. Our brand identity is sassy, yet unsure, appealing to those born in the autumn months.
After 2 weeks, it is time for the transferrance of the beer into bottles. This was.... difficult.
First things first, consume 8 450ml bottles of Grolsch beer with the fancy caps and what not.
This is just gravy because Grolsch is tasty.
Unfortunately there are no pictures, it was sort of an all hands on deck situation. Lets just say, after failing to understand the concept behind the complicated siphoning method they prescribed, we merely pulled the good old fashioned mouth siphon, and got the beer in bottles with.... minimal spillage.
After this, the beer goes back into the shame closet for another 2 weeks to continue fermenting and plan its eventual escape. Unfortunately Herr Wimbleweizan zere is no escape.
Our first tasting. I am actually drinking some now.
And nobody went blind. Please excuse my language I was very excited.
ANd there we are Fäbrewers, the saga of our beer ends. But rest assured there is another batch forthcoming, a special graduation brau. I realize this one wasnt as funny as the others but you actually learned something ! Be grateful you divas GAWD.
On Meatballs and Madness: A True story of One Man's Redemption in a World Gone Wrong. PART XI.
Well here we are Fäbloggers, the tail end of another Holiday season. We have crumpled wrapping paper, swollen tummies and a crackling fire in the fire place. A time to be thankful for the incredible gifts we have and those we will be returning because Dear God what were they thinking ? I WANTED AN OLDE BROOKLYN LANTERN PEOPLE IT CAN LIGHT UP A WHOLE ROOM. DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO EAT HOLDING A FLASHLIGHT ? DO YOU ?
Life is pain, this we know. To stop this horrifying miasma of pasta-y flashlights and ennui we turn to holiday tradition. In the Fabian family, christmas is kind of strange, we open our presents on Christmas Eve like the French, do stockings on Christmas morning as different thing, and the creme de la creme, eat Swedish Meatballs on Xmas Eve.
Let me just put this right out there. FORGET IKEA. This is the real shit, these are a Swedish family recipe handed down from generation to generation.
AND THEY ARE THE BESTTHINGS EVER.
Now for once we have photo documentation not done by me and a shaky i-phone, this shit was shot professionally by my future bro-in-law M.Marerro and it is so swag its swug. That's the past tense of swag. You learned a thing today, good for you !
LETS GET TO THIS MEATBALLS WAIT FOR NO PERSON.
To set the mood, this is what cooking in the Fabian house sounds like.
Just add more swearing and threats of bodily harm coupled with fantastic wine and you have 3pm at the ol' Homestead.
Put pork and beef in a bowl. Look at the dramatic shadows, that is the batman of a bowl of ground meats.
SWEAR TO ME
AAAH fuck AAAh
Mix that meat into a meat-a-rita, or just like mix it together with your hands like a caveman.
OH god its HD look at that meat its like Blu-ray meat.
Slice white bread so that the crusts have fled. Real Swedes use.. Peppridge farms ? I guess ? whatever play through.
Eggs. Ground White Pepper. Heroin Ground Allspice. Did you know that Allspice is not a blend of spices but a fucking Berry called Allspice ? I think thats a little goddamn presumptuous of whoever named it. Right ? I'm mad about spices.
Combine sauce with Bread and Mush.
Add ALL OF THE ONIONS IN THE TRISTATE
You gotta grate the onions and this will make you weep the tears of a spurned tapir. They just look kinda sad y'know ?
Awwwww. Sad Tapir is Sad.
COMBINE. WORK WITH GRANDMOTHER. This is my grandmother on my father side. We refer to her as Farmor, the traditional swedish appellation for the Fathers Mother. (Far-more) She is the best ever and I love her more than tapirs.
AND I LOVE TAPIRS. full stop.
Just for scale purposes. It is apprx. Three (3) Farmors to One (1) Fabes.
Mush it all up. MUSH MUSH MUSH MUSH MUSH MUSH MUSH MUSH SMUSH.
OUTTA MY GRILL SON I GOT MEAT HANDS
Did I mention mushing ? Cause there is a lot of goddamn mushing involved.
"A Veritable Embarrassment of Cutting Boards" might be the title of my Memoirs.
This is pretty indicative of the whole process.
You gotta roll meatballs. It is a process. Wet the palm of your hand, take meat out of bowl, roll meatball, receive criticism from entire family on size and quality of meatballs, yell for 15 minutes. Roll another meatball, etc. etc. repeat.
Spheres on spheres on spheres
OH GET MACRO ON IT OH MAN. OHH YE#AAH.
Fry them puppies up with a little butter.
Serve with mashed potatoes and gluttony
ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOM for details.
The sauce is the juice in the pan with some tweaks
I DONT KNOW I DIDNT DO THE SAUCE.
Its ok to be jealous, I mean what did you have for Xmas eve, a ham ? Scrub. A fine Christmas goose ? Pleb. This is a straight up SMORGASBORD in the truest sense of the word.
True story one year we cooked a goose for Christmas for the SOLE REASON of being able to talk about having a "Christmas Goose" for dinner.
I think that might be the first completely Ironic Meal we ever shared as a family. Shit was post-modern as hell though.
All thanks go to Farmor for passing down the recipe to your humble chef de cuisine, and for the 22 years of love and meatballs before then. I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday, no matter what you celebrate, and a happy New Year !
Bonjour Fabloggers, I love you all. In this grinding election season, I know I am the only light in your life. I will strive to provide the joy you need to keep going in the form of "funny" food blogs. It's alright to cry.
I mean if you want to chant my name in the streets I won't stop you, Like, if you NEED to sculpt a bust of me out of the purest obsidian with glittering rubies for eyes and GLORIOUS HAIR hewn from a solid rock of onyx, I cannot intervene.... and on that note BARGAIN FRENCH ONION SOUP.
French Onion soup is maybe my favorite thing in the whole goddamn world. Now this isn't exactly the way that ol' Grandmere Margules makes it, this is a more...egalitarian version. I call it Steakhouse French onion soup, I made up the "recipe" as I went along. This is for les enfants de la patrie !
Listen to this while we prepare the soup. Look at the words, shit is wild.
Grill up some of that steak. Cheap steak for this cheap skate makes me freak.
A stolen landshark is much better than normal. Pilfer a beer from your roommate FEEL THE RUSH OF CRIME! TASTE LARCENY. Larceny tastes like bud light that is pretending to be corona, which is bud light that is pretending to be Mexican.
Grill le steak.
Wait till the blood rises.
And waters the furrows of our fields.
At this point preheat your oven to 350º
Listen to 98º. No dont do that. That's not even relevant.
Some Like it rare. ME. I DO.
I like my steak like women like me....rarely ! HEYO *swings golf club*
Slice it up goooood. Use Pinky.
This is the cheese we'll be using for our bread pieces. It's Yanceys Fancy Steakhouse Onion cheese. I was inspired to make this soup, because this cheese is like French Onion Soup in cheese form. So we're having French Onion squared. Cost- $3.49
Cut some slices of sourdough bread and place cheese on them tenderly. Play Kiss from a Rose by Seal why you do it.
<
BAAAAABY. Photo credit to Mme.Armstrong
Add the soup to a pan. This photo is blurry, not because I'm a shitty photog, but because its moving SO FAAAAAAAAAAAAST
Steak in the Pot.
Stir it. Oh Pinky, is there anything you CAN'T do ?
Put your bread and cheese in the oven until you cannot avoid the smell of pure GODDAMN ECSTASY
Not the most traditional oven mitts, but they do the job. And yes the finger is cut off on purpose, it had practical applications for my important and CRITICAL job. Secret stuff, can't talk about it, very hush hush.
Ohhhhhhh yeah. Le Fromage est fort mes amis. La fromage est belle !
Soup and croutons. This was delicious. and Cheap. Which is its own rewards.
RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHH
As always, your chef de cuisine, signing off.
-Fabes
Get that TRASH OUTTA HERE.
