The Best Thing I Ever Ate: Philly Style

The City of Brotherly Love should be known for more than their infamous cheesesteaks. As delicious as they are at 4am, the cheesesteak did not make the cut for the Best Thing I Ever Ate in Philly. (For those that must know however, I am a Pat's girl through and through). Philadelphia is a culinary gem and one I am lovingly familiar with, thanks to four years of schooling there. As expected, the majority of my culinary experiences during my formitive college years were at bars. Luckily, Philadelphia produces some amazing pub food, like the wings are Moriarty's, soft pretzels from Miller's Twist, and the roast pork sandwiches at Tony Luke's. It also hosts haute cuisine, perhaps most noteably at Steven Starr's restaurants where the culinary creativity is almost as luring as their eccentric atmosphere.

I returned to Philadelphia this weekend for my college soccer team's alumni game. Ninety minutes and many a pulled muscle later, the only thing I could focus on was food. What would it be? A hoagie from the array of food trucks? A gyro from the Greek Lady? I was too dirty for sushi at Pod and too poor for the calamari salad at Buddakhan. It wouldn't make sense to eat the tomato slice at Allegro's or a sandwich from Koch's - who goes from NY to Philly to eat pizza or a Jewish deli?!

After a frantic walk around Penn's campus, and one too many coffees from Hubbub coffee truck, I finally decided on a tried and true Penn favorite: White Dog Cafe. Located in three Victorian townhouses on a cobblestone street, White Dog serves American fare with local flare and a focus on environmental care. (Anyone hiring a culinary Dr Seuss? I'm desperate.) I saddled up to their more casual bar and replenished myself with Amish grown food and a few local brews, which allowed me to refocus my efforts on dinner.

Contrary to popular cheesesteak lore, what Philadelphia does best is Italian. The 9th street Itlian market is home to some of the best italian produce, meats, cheeses and restaurants I have ever come across. There is nothing quite like eating your way through an afternoon, sampling fresh mozzarella, home made cannollis and the occasional Italian hoagie. However, my favorite South Philly experience can be found at Dante and Luigi's, an old school, perfectly gawdy Italian restaurant. It's claim to fame may be a botched murder attempt on Nicky Scarfo Jr, but their bread and butter is their gravy - the distinctly Southern Italian noun for red sauce. "It's like blood's mingled with the marinara". Yum. While most order the light-as-air gnocchi marinara, I always order their clams marinara over spaghetti. It was the very first dish I ordered at Dante and Luigi's, my freshman year on Parents Weekend. After three months of the college cafeteria food and Cup O' Noodles, it was the Best Thing I Ever Ate.

I found the recipe in an archive on the website phillymafiahistory.com - and I feel pretty badass making it. Overall, it is a simple enough recipe, except for one thing: the marinara! Dante and Luigi's does not disclose their secret sauce, so I found something in the same family - from cousin Angelo if you will. Kitchen Consigliere: Angelo Marinara. Perhaps one of the most entertaining recipe videos to date, mobster Angelo Lutz gives up his family's recipe for penne marinara. He claims he made this dish every Sunday night in 'college'. And by college, he means jail for nine years. "Cooking it not a crime even though the cook was once a crook". So cool. His secret is to add a dash of Parmesan to the sauce while simmering. His other secret is that he got all his ingredients from his "procurement agent". You be the judge.
Dante and Luigi's Clams and Spaghetti (serves 2 big goombas, or 4 regular people)
  • 1lb spaghetti, cooked al dente according to package instructions and set aside
  • 48 little neck clams
  • 1.5 T garlic, thinly sliced (Good Fella's thin. See it stat if you're missing the reference.)
  • 2oz. fresh bazil
  • 3T. olive oil
  • salt and pepper to taste
  • 1.5 T chopped minced
  • "touch" red pepper flakes
  • 1/3 cup of white wine
  • 1 cup fish stock (homemade is best)
  • 1qt. marinara sauce
  1. In a deep sauce pan over medium heat, add the olive oil, garlic and onion, stirring for two minutes.
  2. Season with hot pepper flakes.
  3. Add clams and stir for about 3 more minutes. 
  4. Pour in wine and cook until reduced in half.
  5. Add fish stock and simmer for 3 more minutes.
  6. Pour in marinara and season with basil, salt and pepper to taste.
  7. Cook for 3-6 more minutes until clams open.
  8. Pour clams and sauce over spaghetti and serve.
If you don't like it, I'll pop a cap in your bum,
The Heat


The Best Thing I Ever Ate: In Paris

Last night over a few (too many) glasses of wine, my girlfriend and I recounted our fondest memories from our adventures in Europe. Some of the best memories are favorites only in retrospect, like the time we got kicked out of our inn in Chianti for running over their flowerpot or when we got a flat tire from a dirt road in rural Tuscany (all in the same day, I might add). But, the fatties that we are, our fondest memories usually involved the meals we ate - which quickly turned into a game of 'The Best Thing I Ever Ate'.

When we plan our trips together, my friend takes charge of planning our itinerary and hotels, and I spend my time organizing our meals. You laugh, but it's serious business that I can't even fathom leaving up to chance ...or a tour book. I believe eating is the most intimate way to connect with a culture. Choose the right meal and it's like being able to consume and take with you a piece of their history. A taste of their people. And not in a dirty way.  The meal's presentation and atmosphere are equally important to create an experience more memorable to me than even the most spiritually evocative Church. Whenever I enter a new country, city or state I come armed with no fewer than a dozen restaurant options, organized by neighborhood, meal, featured dish and vibe, all of which I have gathered from the most reputable source - the locals. Which is precisely how I came upon my most memorable meal abroad - Chez l'Ami Jean in Paris - je t'adore.

Referred to me from a coworker who lived in the city of love for 7+yrs, the restaurant was exactly the kind of place you would never walk into. A non-descript storefront, on a quiet side street in a residential arrondissement, an irritable hostess who only took reservations by phone, and offered no English, though clearly understood every word we spoke,  l'Ami Jean does everything in it's power to be 'locals only'. It was intimidating, brash, and absurdly French. It was perfect. I could write a book about the entire experience, appetizer to dessert, but the dish I took home with me (literally) was their Riz au Lait - rice pudding. Did the record just scratch? Is rice pudding even French? But you don't even like dessert! I know. I repeated the same things to myself when our waiter insisted we order it. Needless to say, there wasn't much discussion.

It came to us in what appeared to be a mixing bowl the size of my head with an enormous wooden spoon unapologetically stuck in. After the immaculate, manicured dishes that proceeded it, we were shocked at the crude, almost mocking manner to which our dessert was presented.  "Go on, you greedy little Americans - just try and finish me". Every thick, creamy, sweet-but-not-too-sweet, lumpy, custardy bite seemed to taunt and laugh at us - as I assume all the Chefs were likely joining in on from behind their snarky little curtain. We gave it our best, but our best was just not enough. As uncouth as we felt asking for a doggie bag, we just couldn't part ways with the remainder. Our beloved rice pudding accompanied us on our night on the town and our subsequent walk home, which ended up taking us triple the time it should have due to my (eh hem) inebriated navigation abilities. The child's bike we found surprisingly did NOT help us get home any faster. (I'm pretty sure we returned it to it's rightful owner - I think). Alas, as distance and time makes the heart grow fonder, the same can be said for taste buds, even the second time around.
Since I can no longer afford to travel (sigh), I will resort to recreating the Best Things I Ever Ate abroad. I intend on making this a regular feature to my blog, and what better way to kick it off than with a dish from the best meal of my life! Upon much searching on the world wide web, too many wordy, over-analyzed reviews and perusing many sub-par versions of the recipe, I stumbled across the exact recipe from the chef himself on the New York Times website. So much for it being a 'hidden gem'. The recipe for the rice pudding is easy and low ingredient, however there are three other recipes to be found in the article that are accompaniments to the pudding: confiture de lait, creme anglaise, and brittle. I don't speak a lick of French, so the best translation I can muster is: milk gel, caramel sauce and a nut-apricot brittle. I will likely stick to a dollop of store bought caramel sauce, a handful of rum soaked raisins, or just a big wooden spoon. How very un-French of me.

Riz au Lait: recipe from the NYTimes can be found here.
  • ½ vanilla bean
  • 2 cups plus 2 tablespoons whole milk
  • 1/3 cup carnaroli, arborio or short-grain rice
  • 2 ½ tablespoons sugar
  • 1 2/3 cups heavy cream
  1. Split the vanilla bean, scrape out the seeds and place the seeds and pod in a medium saucepan.
  2. Add the milk and bring to a simmer.
  3. Stir in the rice and simmer, stirring occasionally, until it reaches the consistency of oatmeal, 25 to 30 minutes. Stir in the sugar.
  4. Cool to room temperature, then chill.
  5. Transfer the chilled rice to a large bowl.
  6. Whip the cream to stiff peaks.
  7. Fold the whipped cream into the rice, little by little, to desired thickness. It should be light and creamy.

Bon appetit!
The Heat


Spring Cleaning

It's official - Spring is here. Was it only a few weeks ago we were wading through knee high moats of sludge just to get the morning newspaper? Almost overnight the city was transformed from a slew of faceless, wool swathed, eskimos into a cool crowd of sunglass donning, lawn lounging, spring trendsetters. The croci are up, the parks are packed and the pretty floral skirts are out - and apparently everyone had gone shopping. 

Saturday night lent some of the best people watching of 2010 - beautiful weather, March Madness and lingering hangovers from St Patrick's Day had clearly encouraged some beloved day-drinking. The streets were littered with scantily clad ladies teetering on sky high stilettos - like a herd of newborn calves tenuously trying out their new legs. Having spent the past four months in fur lined snow boots and bulky sweaters, the transition to spring gear always has it's quirks. This weekend I spotted many a quirk - pasty legs, toes that have been out-of-sight-out-of-mind for way too long, backs that were pining for a date with a wax technician, goosebumps on the morbidly underdressed, stilettos stuck in soggy lawns and many, MANY a skirt blown north by those lingering winter winds (including the skirt of yours truly). Even though I am a veteran subway rider, I have yet to perfect the skirt-controlled stair descent. Either it's my front or my back, but I can never quite get it all under control, regardless of hand placement. For the male readers that have grimaced at the sight of a respectable women holding herself in what can only be described as a cross-vaginal sleeper hold, please understand that it is not due to an inappropriate itch or a sudden, uncontrollable urge. We are simply trying avoid giving Sal the Subway Sketchball a full frontal whilst making our morning commute. Give us a break.

The weekend's warm weather also encouraged a transition in food and drink. Long gone are the hot toddy's, crock-pots of stew and vats of soup. It was time to dust off the margarita glasses and say hello to some old friends, Fruit and Veggie. I can't speak for everyone, but in the winter I can go full weekends without consuming a single piece of fruit. It's sad, not to mention unabashedly unhealthy, but the selection (and cost) of fresh fruit in the city is embarrassing. So as soon as Spring hits, I make a consorted effort to add them to my food and drink in every way possible. Whether it's a gorgeous green salad, an apple on a walk or a pomegranate mojito, it's my form of Spring cleaning. 

My Mother's birthday was also this weekend and my Brother and I, along with a few wonderful sous-chefs, compiled a health-centric celebratory feast. We started with a tried and true tray of antipasta - an easy, delicious starter that requires very little preparation and incorporates a handful of healthy options (usually wrapped in cheese or cured meats - I try).

Some suggestions:
  • prosciutto wrapped asparagus or melon 
  • salami wrapped breadsticks
  • cherry tomatoes served with marinated mozzarella balls (can't wait until beefsteak are in season)
  • bowl of olives (I prefer the tiny Spanish green olives)
  • jars of marinated veggies: artichokes, red or yellow peppers, okra etc.
  • goat cheese piped into endive leaves or onto parmesan crisps
Our second course was a salad of mixed greens topped with seared, thin sliced sea scallops, toasted pepitas (pumpkin seeds) and segments of seedless oranges, dressed in a light lemon vinaigrette:

The main course was a fillet of Dover sole served over a white bean puree and dressed with a spicy, green salsa. The fish was baked simply in the oven with a drizzle of olive oil, lemon slices, salt and pepper. The white bean puree was a whiz and will show up on my plate many a time this spring - a can of white cannelloni beans, two minced cloves of garlic and 1/4 cup of chicken stock heated for 5 minutes over medium heat and pureed in a blender or food processor - decadent and healthy. The real masterpiece of the night was the green salsa (which can be bought canned if you're in a time crunch).

Corey's 'Jump Out of Your Seat' Salsa Verde:
  • 1.5lb tomatillos (they look like green tomatoes)
  • 2 jalepeno, Anaheim, or serrano peppers stemmed and seeded (more seeds = more spice)
  • 1 onion, diced
  • 2 cloves of garlic, unpeeled
  • 1/2 cup cilantro leaves
  • 1 lime, juiced
  • 1/2t. sugar
  • salt to taste

  1. Remove outside husk of tomatillos, slice in half and place face down on an aluminum foil lined baking sheet. Slice peppers in half and place face down with the tomatillos. Add unpeeled garlic to sheet.
  2. Place under the broiler for 5-7 minutes or until slightly charred or blackened on the outside. Remove and let cool. Peel skin off garlic.
  3. Add tomatillos, peppers, onion, garlic, cilantro, lime juice and sugar to a blender or food processor and pulse a few times, leaving the mixture slightly chunky - be careful not to puree.
  4. Chill if serving with chips. Room temperature is great for topping fish, eggs or tacos.

Now spare us all and go get a pedicure,
The Heat


The Weekend Brawl

The Challenger: In this corner, weighing in at a lanky 140lbs with an experienced stomach, massive calves, and 28 years of eating under her belt (literally): THE HEAT!

The Contender: And in the other corner, weighing in at a deceivingly light .5lbs, almost a foot in length and about three sticks of butter: Amy's loaf of Brioche!!

ding ding!

Round 1: The Heat was hot out of the gates -slicing the brioche 1/2 inch thick, layering it in gooey Gruyere, and dunking repeatedly in a vat of hot tomato soup. But the one, two punch of a buttered exterior followed by a swift kick of truffle butter inside was too much for The Heat to handle. She had to tag in her teammate to finish what she had started - allowing her a last minute, albeit questionable victory.

Round 2: With last round being such a close call, the Heat decided to step it up with a more formidable first punch: Balsamic Lamb Stew. Thick, murky sauce dotted with a pungent kick of balsamic vinegar, stewed onions and chunky potatoes were no match for the tough end pieces of the brioche. It soaked up every last morsel - leaving the Heat high and dry, and sent her cowering back to the corner for a towel off and a sip of wine.

Balsamic Lamb Stew
  • 3T. olive oil
  • 3lbs. lean lamb stew meat, well trimmed and cut into 2" cubes
  • 3T. all-purpose flour
  • Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
  • 2 medium onions, thickly sliced
  • 2 carrots coarsely chopped
  • 1 clove of garlic, finely chopped
  • 3T tomato paste
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 1 bouquet garni of fresh rosemary and thyme or any combination of herbs
  • 1 cup of a bold red wine
  • 2.5 cups of beef stock (or lamb stock if you can find it)
  • 2 medium boiling potatoes cut into chunks or a handful of small potatoes
  • 2T balsamic vinegar
  1. Bring stew meat to room temperature before cooking - it helps it to sear properly. Dry meat with paper towels and add to a plastic bag.
  2. Add the flour and a few cracks of salt and pepper to the bag and shake (Shake and Bake style) to evenly coat the meat with the mixture.
  3. Meanwhile heat up the 3T of olive oil in a dutch oven or large saucepan over medium heat.
  4. Sear each piece of meat in the hot oil, allowing it to bubble and brown slightly on all sides - about 6-7 minutes. Do so in shifts to avoid crowding the pan.
  5. Remove the lamb and add your onions and carrots until the onions are translucent.
  6. Stir in the garlic, followed by the tomato paste, toasting them on the bottom of the pan for about a minute.
  7. Add the meat back to the pan and deglaze with the cup of red wine, scraping brown bits off the bottom.
  8. Add the bay leaves and bouquet garni.
  9. Pour the 2 cups of stock until almost covering the meat.
  10. Cover and let simmer over low heat (small bubbles appear at the surface, NOT boiling) for about 1.5hrs.
  11. Uncover and stir in potatoes, allowing to cook covered for an additional 30-40 minutes.
  12. Stir in 2T balsamic vinegar and serve.
Garnish with freshly chopped parsley, chives or a dollop of sour cream. Crusty bread and a bottle of Cotes du Rhone round out the meal.

Round 3: The contenders took a long break from each other and reconvened early in the morning. Brioche came out with a move called the French Toast, which sounded more dangerous than it was. Brioche fell apart when the Heat started throwing eggs, resulting in a soggy, un-photogenic mess. The remains were finished off by the Heat, ending in overall victory.


It was a long, drawn out fight this weekend, but the Heat polished off an entire loaf of brioche and has the stomach ache to prove it - making her question who really was the winner after all.

I'm not proud of it,
- The Heat


Good things come in small packages

They say good things come in small packages. Whoever said that is thinking of small, light blue boxes that say Tiffany's on it - or they're referring to how cute their teacup Cock-a-poo looks in their palatial Park Avenue penthouse. I don't mean to stereotype, they could have a Shug, Silky Cocker or Shocker instead (those are actual designer breeds according to this website - the jokes are overwhelming me). Now here's the irony - I have a 65lb pitbull in a 400sqft apartment - she takes up a third of my bedroom - are you laughing yet? That makes one of us.

On a cold and rainy day like today, where we're both trapped indoors, fighting each other for space on the couch - the size of my living quarters really irks me. Now don't get me wrong - I like my apartment. It's cute and in a great location. I can shower, make my bed AND do my dishes all at the same time. I don't like clutter, so I actually like the fact that all of my personal belongings can fit into a space that most would consider a master bath. Plus, if I needed to flee the city, I could hail a cab and leave very little behind. It's almost comedic how New Yorkers chose to live. Well, it's funny on all days except the first of the month when we cut a check that could pay the mortgage on a plantation in Kentucky. But we don't want to live in Kentucky! And we pride ourselves on our ability to handle misery.

My Mother has a great sense of humor about the size and condition of the apartments I have lived in. Never being a city dweller herself, I'm fairly certain every apartment has horrified her upon entering. Yet every time she walks in with a smile and a few space saving ideas to make my tiny cell into a home. This past Christmas she surprised me with a handful of teenie, tiny housewarming gifts - a set of miniscule spatulas, which are surprisingly helpful for getting the last bit of peanut butter out of the jar (which unfortunately for Nike, used to be her job), a set of nesting measuring bowls, and two itty bitty crockpots - okay they're ramkin, but I like to pretend I cook mini-meals in them for very small people. She says it's fun shopping for my apartment - sort of like furnishing a dollhouse. But at least dollhouses had plastic dogs that didn't need to be walked on a day like today. Speaking of the gem, today Nike is providing the backdrop for my picture. I thought she could provide some 'scale' for how small the items are - such a ham:

Speaking of small things, I have discovered new and improved ways of cooking shrimp (how's that for a segue)! Shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey's uh, shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo. Pan fried, deep fried, stir-fried. There's pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp, pepper shrimp, shrimp soup, shrimp stew, shrimp salad, shrimp and potatoes, shrimp burger, shrimp sandwich...Well, one thing dear Bubba forgot was roastin' and poachin' shrimp. The best shrimp I've ever had was in Spain as a tapa - gambas al ajillo.

My favorite version is in the Bowery at Sala, where it's poached in garlic infused olive oil and served with a crusty baguette for dipping. I tried recreating the dish at home many times, but I could never get the same texture. I never got that 'pop' that I love about gambas al ajillo - a similar sensation to biting through the casing of a good sausage. Luckily I caught Tyler's Ultimate Spanish Tapas (which is an excellent episode - great recipes), and learned how to slow poach shrimp in hot, garlic infused olive oil. Long gone are the days of chewy, rubbery, overdone shrimp. It was easy and fantastic. I urge you to give it a try - you'll be surprised how much better the texture is than grilling, sautéing or boiling shrimp. For the nights were you can't have garlic breath - infuse the olive oil with basil, chives, rosemary, fennel, thyme, parsley, or curry! Mix it up.

Garlic Poached Shrimp:
  • 1/2 cup or more of olive oil depending on the size of your skillet
  • 4 garlic cloves: 3 whole, 1 clove minced
  • 1lb of raw, deveined shrimp with the tails on
  • 1/4t. red pepper flakes or more if you like it spicy
  1. Coat the bottom of a skillet liberally with olive oil - about a 1/4 inch up the side of the pan.
  2. Set over low-medium heat.
  3. Add 3 whole garlic cloves and the red pepper flakes.
  4. Allow to cook slowly, infusing the olive oil, but being careful not to burn them.
  5. Remove garlic cloves and crank up heat to medium-high or until you see the oil start to ripple, but not smoke.
  6. Turn off heat completely, remove from heat and add shrimp and the minced clove of garlic.
  7. Turning them over halfway, cook until they are pink and opaque, about ten minutes.
  8. Serve with crusty bread and a glass of rioja!

Another method that achieves a similar texture to poaching, is to roast the shrimp in a 425° oven for 5-7 minutes until pink and opaque. Sprinkle raw, tail-on shrimp with olive oil, salt and pepper, and spread evenly over a baking sheet. Turn the shrimp over halfway through cooking to ensure they cook evenly. I like to add a little lemon zest to the shrimp before cooking and then finish them with a squirt of lemon before serving.

Enjoy the rainy weekend! I'll be under covers - fighting for space with Nike.
- The HEAT


Calling All Soccer Moms

This past weekend I attended a bridal shower for a dear friend and former teammate from my college soccer team. The upcoming wedding not only marks the union of two friends from college, but more importantly it's the union of two highly talented foodie families. The Groom's family is Italian and has been in the restaurant business for years. The Bride is from a tight-nit Ukrainian family with a cherished history of fantastic home cooking, a Mamma who used to be a caterer and a son who shares her passion. Hence why I jumped on a train to Philly the second I heard the families were cooking for the bridal shower - well that and to be supportive of course.

Though she may not realize it, the Mother of the Bride has been cooking for me for years. In college our parents organized weekly post-game tailgates for both home and away matches. When one thinks of tailgate food, the usual suspects come to mind: wings, subs, chips, brownies. Well, our parents blew it out of the water: coconut shrimp, marinated beef tips, butternut squash soup, sushi - and lots and lots of doggie bags. And the doggie bag I always sought (and by sought I mean stole directly out of my teammates fridge) is the MOB's cream of tomato soup. I couldn't help myself - it is amazing. Imagine my embarrassment (and relief) when her Mom started bringing extra soup for yours truly so I'd stop stealing her daughters. This treatment lasted all through college and even into the real world when we moved in together in Manhattan. Whenever her parents visited, the soup fairy would leave presents in the fridge: a vat of tomato soup labeled with MY NAME and a container of potato leek soup for her daughter, which, heaven help me, I broke into as well. (No wonder my friend is so thin!) My name is Heather, and I am a soup addict. "Hiiii, Heather".

Now that we live apart, I have resigned to begging - for the recipe, for a sampling to be decontructed or for an invitation to dinner. Whatever the mode, I needed my fix and I needed it now! My prayers were answered last weekend. As part of her bridal shower gift, the MOB compiled a book of family recipes that were hand written and passed down by her great Grandmothers. It was the most touching and invaluable gift - and as it turned out, my ticket to soup heaven. There they were, side by side on page one - the recipes for Cream of Tomato and Leek and Potato Soup. SCORE! I thought it would look suspect if I pulled my iPhone out to take a picture and steal the recipes (it's a sickness I tell you!) So I pretended to be cooing over pictures, all-the-while willing my brain to suddenly become photographic. Unfortunately I blew my cover when I suddenly blurted out "MAYO?! The secret ingredient is MAYO?!" And with a wink and a nod her Mother gave me permission - I had passed the test. The pearly gates opened:

Tania Bojcun's Famous Cream of Tomato Soup:
There are two versions of this recipe - the short and the long. For the long version, add chicken pieces (drumsticks, wings etc) to the vegetable saute to add depth to the flavor.

  • 3 carrots
  • 3 stalks celery
  • 2 onions
  • 3 cloves garlic

1. Chop and saute in either butter or olive oil or a combination for about 15 min (just to soften). 
2. Salt pepper to taste (at this point, add chicken and saute extra few minutes on either side).
  • Garnish bouquet of parsley (enhances taste/smell)
  • 64 oz chicken broth or stock
  • 48 oz crushed tomatoes
  • 6 oz tomato paste

3. Add ingredients to sautéed vegetables; bring to boil then simmer for approx 15-20 min
  • ½ c mayo
  • ½ c light cream
4. Remove garnish and chicken.
5. Ladle soup and vegetables into blender (filling container no more than ¾) and adding 2 tbsp mayo each time).
6. Repeat until all soup is pureed – return to pot.
7. Add light cream – salt/pepper to taste.
8. Simmer additional 10 min.

Mamma Bojcun - Dyakuyu!

Recipes whose codes I still have to crack: (any and all help, willing or forced, is greatly appreciated).
  • Mr.Watson's Marinated Beef Tips
  • Mrs.Watson's hot cocoa (I do not believe it's packeted - you're just trying to throw me off!)
  • The Cross's Vegetarian Chili
  • Tania's Coconut Shrimp

Let the games begin!
- The Heat