Soft Pretzels

today's pretzels come from reinhart's Artisan Breads Everyday, and are one of the few recipes in that book that weren't also in the Bread Baker's Apprentice, so i have been eager to try it. i made pretzels before, but they were more like the ones you get at auntie anne's in the mall. these are traditional, bready soft pretzels. okay, almost traditional. i didn't opt to dip the pretzels in a potentially poisonous lye solution (directions for which were provided), but used the safer, easier baking soda solution instead. reinhart mentioned that sesame seeds were an optional topping, which made me think of the marvelous simit rings sold in istanbul, so i made a few of those as well as some with kosher salt sprinkled on top. these pretzels? fabulous. i had mine, still warm, with some spicy brown mustard and a hefeweizen. the sesame seed ones weren't quite like simit, but still tasty.

CYA: The Judge & The ChronoGuard & The Man

NOTE: if you did not jump to this chapter as a result of the Choose Your Adventure story, please go here before reading any further!


"mr. franklin, it's you!" the judge exclaimed.

ChronoGuard Ben shook his head. "that's not colonial me, your honor. that's a more senior me in the ChronoGuard."

"oh. so you two know each other?"

the bens nodded.

"you can't go any further," Senior ChronoGuard Ben told them.

"but we have to find b--you," the judge argued. "he--you--may be in trouble."

"Ben, you are delinquent in your annual oversight & compliance training. you are not allowed to time-travel until you complete it."

ChronoGuard Ben groaned. "dammit, i forgot all about that! i really need an executive assistant to remind me of these things. say," he turned to the judge. "you think burkie would let me hire special assistant hepzibah?"

"i doubt it," the judge replied. "he'd be pretty useless without her."

"well, i'm sorry, your honor. i guess somebody else will have to rescue me."

"but we're so close!" the judge turned to Senior ChronoGuard Ben. "can't you give us 5 minutes?"

Senior ChronoGuard Ben shook his head. "we're the time police. the one thing we never negotiate with is time."

"hmph."


THE END
-------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dear Reader,


You have reached the end of your adventure. I hope you enjoyed it! If not, well, you only have yourself to blame because, you know, you chose it yourself. Also, since you--not I--chose this adventure, it did not really take place in the Burkieverse and, therefore, will not have any continuity with the regular Poor Yorick's Pub chapters. Thanks for playing and, if you're in the mood to try another adventure, go back to the beginning and choose a different path!

Meat & Bacon Pies

yeah. i mean, need i say anything else? only the pasty crust is from Savory Baking. the meat filling is from a bacon meatball recipe that my friend candy sent me (who got it from our friend ben). i, uh, made the bacon meatballs last week for candy, ben, mira, and russ, but i had some meat mixture leftover that they didn't know about. i stuck it in the freezer. i took it out this morning to thaw and, inspired by this (funny!) post about meat pie, i decided to make hand-held pies/empanadas/pasties/whatever you want to call them. yummy is what i call 'em :)

It's A Family Affair

"good evening, danny boy! what's on the menu tonight?" gavin cardigan asked as he stepped into Poor Yorick's Pub.

"argentine empanadas," danny blake replied, pouring a Guinness.

"what makes them argentine?"

"hell if i know."

"hi, gavin! are you ready to party?" marian elfman asked as he approached his regular table.

"party? what party?"

"tucker felt bad that linda didn't win the football league, so he arranged a party to cheer her up. he's got a DJ friend coming over with a karaoke machine!"

"he'd better have some shania twain songs!" linda nulo stated as she drained her beer and signaled danny for another one.

"and elvis songs!" added a friendly looking lady seated next to burkie.

"gavin, this is my mom," burkie made the introductions, "and that's my sister over there next to linda, and that's her husband willie over there handing out ear plugs."

"and who's going to sing the elvis songs?" gavin asked.

"an Elvis Tribute Artist friend of mine, who should be here soon," burkie's mom told him, and then she turned to sierra and squeezed her hand. "he's looking forward to meeting you!"

"oh, no," sierra looked toward burkie for help, but was met by a helpless shrug.

just then, a young man with a determined stride, er, strode determinedly into the Pub, followed by a friendly looking woman.

"hello, your honor," tucker, the shaggy-haired guitar player greeted him. "who's your friend?"

"this is mother st. bishop," the judge explained.

"hiya!" taylor young pulled a chair over for her. "it's nice to meet the judge's mum."

"thank you. it's wonderful to finally meet all of you."

as danny blake came over to deliver a plate of argentine empanadas in front of gavin, the judge and sierra both reached in to take one.

"ow, these are hot!" the judge proclaimed. "but good. can we get more over here, danny? thanks!"

gavin glared at the thieves, then his face lit up as he saw who walked in next. "foxy!"

sierra's sister, foxy charles, smiled as she walked in, followed by a friendly looking lady. "hi, gavin!"

"juliet!" sierra ran over to hug the young lady next to foxy. "i didn't know you were coming!" she turned to everyone and said, "everyone, this is our brother juliet!"

this was met by a number of raised eyebrows and open mouths. "um...hello," gavin stammered out and stuck out his hand.

"gavin, it's nice to finally meet you. i've heard a lot about you." juliet grinned as he shook gavin's hand.

sierra smiled. "juliet is a crossdresser by night and on weekends. his given name is julius and by day he's a personal trainer. as juliet, she performs in an underwater mermaid show."

mother st. bishop winked. "i bet you've got a great dorsal fin."

juliet giggled and took the seat next to her. "you'll have to come by one night and check it out for yourself, sweetheart."

the judge looked alarmed and cleared his voice. "so, where's the karaoke machine?"

"someone looking for me?" a friendly looking man with short blond hair walked in, hauling a karaoke machine. "hey, marian! long time, no see!"

marian made a face that could only be described as dread. "oh, hi."

tucker looked surprised. "marian, you know j³?"

"know me? dude, we used to date!"

"really, mate? you don't say!" taylor shook his hand. "i have that pleasure now."

"your name is J-third?" gavin asked, recalling that marian's ex-boyfriends were supposed to be named after nursery rhyme characters.

"no, man. J-cubed. it's just my stage name. my real name is--"

"JOHN JACOB JINGLEHEIMER SCHMIDT!!!" gavin and sierra and Mysterious Lurker shouted out, laughing hysterically.

j³ looked at marian, whose face was beet red. "what exactly did you tell them about me?"

"nothing," marian muttered.

j³ shrugged and starting working with tucker to set up his system. as they were working, a burly man with a burly fro walked in. "hey, guys. has the open mic night started yet?"

burkie walked up to the newcomer and shook his hand. "cliff, we're doing karaoke, not poetry." he looked over at tucker and j³, then noted, "but since the karaoke machine isn't ready yet, the stage is yours. rock on!"

gavin nudged sierra. "that's cliff lynn! he's my favorite poet."

cliff stepped up behind the mic and pulled a folded sheet of paper from his inside coat pocket, and began to read:

burkie, a man from nantucket--

"not that one, cliff!"

"sorry, dude." he pulled out another folded sheet and began again:

lost in train station, by cliff lynn

sam rolled off of the four plastic seats that formed his napping site
hitting the grimy train station floor with an anguished grunt
his 3- and 4-fingered hands pressed against his ears
as if to prevent his dream from absquatulating
when in fact he was the one who wanted to escape the dream
which was akin to a salvadore dali illustration of a hunter s. thompson poem
about band of irish gypsies hunting easter eggs on the white house lawn
full of fuzzy headed-dandelions and crumpled dr. pepper cans and praying mantises
or praying manti or praying manteese or prayings mantis or--

"wtf, man? this is garbage. i didn't write this!"

gavin nodded in agreement. "that was NOT a cliff lynn poem. his poetry is lean, and provocative."

burkie shrugged. "hey, i don't have permission to print your stuff here, so i had improvise. don't worry. this blog doesn't have more than a dozen readers."

"look!" the Lurker pointed toward the front. "elvis has entered the building!"

they all turned to see a black haired, heavily sideburned young man with blue skin wearing a jumpsuit made of aluminum foil walk into the Pub, the left side of his upper lip lifted in a familiar snarl. "not elvis. el visitor, the alien king of rock 'n roll. thank you, thank you ver' much."

burkie's mother ran over to hug the jumpsuited one as j³ tested the mic. "alright, alright, alright! let's get this party started! first up, miss linda nulo singing "man, i feel like a woman!"

juliet whistled. "that's my theme song! make me proud, sister!"

linda pulled her cowboy hat down over her face as she grabbed the mic and started tapping her boot. "let's go, girls!"

tucker moved up behind her with his guitar, pretending to accompany, as linda began to really get into it, spurred on by catcalls and whistles. she received a standing ovation at the end--and another beer from danny--before taking her seat. "whew, that was fun!"

gavin clicked glasses with her. "not bad, linda! i have to admit, this is funner than i thought it would be." he then noticed el visitor taking the stage. "so far."

as the first notes of the theme from 2001: A Space Odyssey began to ring out through the pub, the alien E.T.A. began striking elvis poses. the blue skin-phobic sierra shuddered and went over to wedge herself between foxy & juliet, but her siblings were just as vocal as burkie's mom in rooting on the intergalactic king of rock 'n roll, especially as he began to sing "that's alright mama."

after he finished, juliet stood up. "my turn!" she whispered in j³'s ear. he nodded, and in spoke into the mic: "up next, the loverly juliet charles singing 'Fancy!'"

as juliet started strutting her stuff, gavin joined joined in the catcalls and leaned over to whipser to sierra, "she's terrific!"

mother st. bishop obviously agreed as she approached the mock stage with a $10 bill in her teeth.

Mysterious Lurker clumped forward in her bad girl boots. "guess what song i'm going to do?"

"boots," everyone replied in unison.

"hmph."

Classic French Bread

another recipe from reinhart's Artisan Breads Every Day. i've made a couple of versions of french bread from his other book; both of those are traditional recipes. this one is so simple: just flour, water, salt, and yeast (no sugar!), and just a couple of minutes worth of kneading, then into he fridge overnight or up to 4 days for cold, long fermentation (allowing the natural sugar in the flour to come out). then, on the day you wish to bake, you pull out as much as you want to bake a couple of hours before you bake, shape it, let it sit, and bake. and let me tell you: it's good. now, if you want some dark blisters along the outside, you can shape the dough as you like and let it rise for 90 minutes before the refrigeration. that is what i did with this loaf. for less than 10 minutes worth of work on a sunday so that you can have freshly baked bread during the week after work? dangerous, my friends :)

Boom-Boom

((the following chapter was written by boom-boom shakalaka as her prize for winning the Pub's fantasy football league this year))

san francisco police department sergeant tarboom shakalaka (boom-boom to her friends and adversaries; with affection by the former, with dread by the latter) walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung up her jacket, then lumbered over to the bar. "pad thai and a beer, danny."

danny blake saluted. "you got it, boom-boom."

"thanks." she grabbed her pint, took a gulp, then walked over to join the others. "good game, linda."

linda nulo grumbled, but shook her hand. "good game, boom-boom."

boom-boom grinned. "you did all right, for a former 3-time world champion barrel racer."

"but i'm not a..." linda's face brightened. "check it out, everyone! i have a past! i'm a fully developed character!"

linda started dancing exuberantly around the room in what can only be described as Kowgirl Krump.

"Kowgirl Krump?" burkie looked over at boom-boom. "don't get too creative, boom-boom. you only get to write one chapter."

she merely sneered contemptuously at him and rolled her shoulder in an aching manner. "i had to run down and tackle a drug dealer today. can i borrow special assistant hepzibah to give me a massage?"

"now see here, boom-boom! she's not that kind of assist--"

"it's okay," s.a. hepzibah said, a little breathlessly, as she scampered over behind boom-boom. "i don't mind."

"ungh, right there. ungh, that's good. ungh." boom-boom closed her eyes as hepzibah's thumbs worked out the knots in her neck and shoulders.

"um...so, boom-boom?" gavin cardigan broke into her reverie. "is this all you're going to write about? some pad thai, a beer, and a shoulder rub?"

"nope," she relied, chugging the the last of her pint as danny walked over to drop off her pad thai. "i'm going to have two beers. thanks, danny."

"that's it?!"

she chewed a shrimp with gusto and swallowed. "listen, wannabe. i'm a real cop. i work long hours with low pay and even less appreciation. most of my colleagues survive on bad food and cheap whiskey. simple pleasures are plenty for me."

"but simple pleasures aren't exciting," marian elfman pointed out. "you have a responsibility to be entertaining!"

"no, i don't. i have a responsibility to unwind. trust me, you don't want to be around a stressed-out cop."

"that's true, honey--hey, what happened to my british accent?!" taylor young looked at boom-boom, distraught.

"i'm not good with accents," boom-boom explained, rather unapologetically.

"neither is burkie," gavin muttered.

"i heard that!"

"hey, where is the Lurker?" sierra asked.

boom-boom smirked as they heard the front door open and the clop-clop of bad girl boots walking into the Pub, bringing the Mysterious Lurker herself into their presence.

"you used the door?!" linda was shocked. "why didn't you just pop in like usual?"

the Lurker, her hair this evening its almost-forgotten natural brown color, glared at boom-boom. "i don't seem to be able to, for some reason."

boom-boom yawned, rather unapologetically. "i'm too tired to do magic."

"hmph."

"tucker, how 'bout a song?"

tucker strummed and began to sing:

when a person breaks the law
i throw his ass in jail
when someone else breaks the law
i throw his ass in jail, too
if anybody else breaks the law
he'll get the same treatment, yeah!

tucker stopped and looked over at boom-boom in surprise. "uh....is that all?"

boom-boom nodded, rather unapologetically. "songs don't have to be long to get the point across."

a cyborg rattled over to collect the dirty dishes.

"is that...Robocop?" taylor asked. "what happened to shakespeare?"

"i'm too tired to decipher whatever he says. i'm a cop, not a linguist." she drained the last of her second pint, burped, and stood up. "thanks for the massage, hep. i'm hitting the hay. g'nite, all."

after she walked out, burkie went over to take her seat. "hep, would you mind doing my shoulders, too?"

s.a. hepzibah stared daggers at him as she walked over to sit next to gavin. "don't call me hep!"

"hmph."

Spicy Sausage and Bean Soup with Roasted Tomatoes

cold days with playoff football call for a spicy soup. so say i. and i found a nice, easy such soup in tom kime's Balancing Flavors East & West. i bought the book (hardcover) for $2.97 and, since amazon is offering the same book new for $4.65 and there's not a single review for it, i'm wondering if i'm the only person to ever buy it. i quite like this recipe, though. it's simple and delicious with a nice combination of flavors: spicy sausage (i used andouille), canned beans, roasted cherry tomatoes, fresh basil, and some balsamic vinegar. along with some of my freshly baked sourdough bread, it was exactly what i wanted.

Fatayer Sabanikh

spinach pies, that is, from Lebanon, courtesy of The Essential Mediterranean Cookbook (300 pages & 600 color photos of recipes from countries surrounding the mediterranean sea that cost me a mere $5.99). i had bought a pound of spinach but didn't know what to do with it, so to the stack of cheap cookbooks i went and found this recipe. you may be more familiar with the greek version of spinach pie (spanakopita); this is similar, but the big difference is that the greek version is usually made with phyllo pastry while the lebanese version uses a yeast dough (more like pizza or calzone dough). when i was making the dough, i thought it was rather odd that there was no salt in the recipe. i thought maybe it was a typo, but as it wasn't mentioned in either the directions or in the list of ingredients, i stuck to the recipe. there are several steps to this recipe. none of them are terribly complicated or require many ingredients, but it helps to be well organized. the recipe makes 10 of these medium-sized triangles. and the verdict? not bad. very mild...almost bland. very almost bland. hey, it's spinach. if i were to make this again, there are 2 changes i think i'd make: first, i might add some red pepper flakes to the spinach filling to give it a little more oomph. second, because of the lack of salt in the dough (which didn't help with the overall near blandness of the dish), i might sprinkle some sea salt over them before baking (they are brush with an egg wash, so the salt would stick). as they are, though, they taste pretty authentic, very similar (though larger!) to what i've had in lebanese restaurants.

CYA: Gavin & Foxy, Feelings 2

NOTE: if you did not jump to this chapter as a result of the Choose Your Adventure story, please go here before reading any further!



cardigan felt his stomach lurch. "um, i'm not feeling very good."

foxy nodded, her face pale. "i'm feeling nauseous again, too."

the both grabbed their tummies and hurried for the bank of the river, reaching it just in time to throw themselves down on the bank and heave.

and heave.

and heave.

in fact, they didn't lift themselves up onto shaky legs until the sun had set. "think you can make it back?"

foxy shuddered, then nodded. "i have to. at least i don't have anything left to heave up, and then danny can take care of us."

cardigan nodded. "if i know danny, he'll have chicken soup ready for us."

they made their way back the time machine in total defeat, climbing back into the dreaded contraption knowing that somebody else would have to rescue mr. franklin.



THE END

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Reader,

You have reached the end of your adventure. I hope you enjoyed it! If not, well, you only have yourself to blame because, you know, you chose it yourself. Also, since you--not I--chose this adventure, it did not really take place in the Burkieverse and, therefore, will not have any continuity with the regular Poor Yorick's Pub chapters. Thanks for playing and, if you're in the mood to try another adventure, go back to the beginning and choose a different path!

Flaky, Buttery Crackers

today's recipe comes from another christmas gift (and, therefore, a cheap cookbook): peter reinhart's Artisan Bread Everyday. this book has many of the same recipes as reinhart's Bread Baker's Apprentice, but he provides make ahead, long fermentation directions so that you can take some dough out of the fridge on a weekday and bake a nice, fresh loaf. this book doesn't delve into the history & science of bread baking as much as BBA did, so it's probably less intimidating for the novice. there are a few recipes that weren't in BBA, including criossants, a cinnamon-chocolate babka that i'm very much looking forward to making, and these crackers. there is a recipe for seeded crackers in the book as well, which i normally prefer, but i didn't have the seeds on hand. reinhart said these are supposed to be like Ritz®. i'm not real happy with my attempt. i rolled the dough out to 1/8" as instructed, but by the time i got to the end of the shape-cutting, the dough had become puffier, so i have some thin crackers and some thick ones. also--and this is probably the first time i've ever said this--i think they're too buttery. for 2¼ cups of flour, you add 10 tablespoons of butter. these are almost shortbread cookies. i'm not saying they aren't tasty; they just aren't what i expected. but it was a quick recipe i could make today before football and i thought it would go well with the broccoli-cheddar soup i made yesterday. plus, it gave me the opportunity to use these tiny little cutters that i think were a gift from years ago.

Black-Eyed Peas & Potato Curry w/ Bhaturas

being a texan, i have to eat black-eyed peas on new year's day for good luck. while looking through my Best Ever Indian Cookbook (325 recipes with full-color photos of each, definitely a bargain at $9.99), i discovered that black-eyed peas are also popular in india. who knew? so i decided to try this black-eyed peas & potato curry. let me first apologize for the photo. neither black-eyed peas nor curries are very photogenic to begin with, so when you put them together...well, that's my excuse. it's kind of an unusual dish. you soak the beans overnight, then simmer them with onion, fresh ginger, and 5-spice powder. then you saute turmeric, ground coriander, cumin, and chile powder together with some fresh chilis and tamarind juice, then add that to the beans along with previously boiled diced potatoes, some fresh tomato, and fresh cilantro. the result is good, but not great. i don't know that i'd make it again. the 5-spice powder is a little overwhleming. i mean, you can taste all the various layers of flavor, but the 5-spice layer lingers the longest. if you love 5-spice, that's great. i think i'd prefer the more savory flavors to be dominant.

but the bread! it's called bhaturas. it's basically a fried naan--think of it as the other indian fry bread :)

it's very good, and doesn't taste greasy at all. the book doesn't tell you what temperature you should fry it. i have an electric range and did it at medium-high (turning the dial counter-clockwise to the 3:00 position) and that seemed to be right. detouring from the recipe, i threw a little salt on it after it was done to, you know, kick it up a notch. good stuff, and i'll make the bread again.

Peppered Pear and Goat Cheese Scones

i'm starting the Year of Cheap Cookbooks off with a recipe from Savory Baking, which was a christmas gift this year (you can't get a cookbook for cheaper than that!). these peppered pear & goat cheese scones aren't for everybody, but that's a good thing 'cause it means more for me. they are really, really good. sweet bosc pear, tangy goat cheese, and a kick from the 1¼ tsp of freshly ground black pepper in a tender scone. i had mine slightly warm from the oven this afternoon with a cup of earl grey, hot. so good, so easy. it's the first recipe in the book, which bodes well for the rest of the book. the recipe says to divide the dough into 6 scones, which i did. they are rather large, so you could easily make them into 8 smaller ones. happy new year, everyone!