UnRecipe: ERMAHGURRRRD - French Fries!!

Happy Meatless Monday, which I would consider it the Post-Thanksgiving/Meat Hangover, given our glutton-filled weekend of turkey-turkey-everything. So to cleanse our roadblocked intestines and overworked filter organs, how about something simple with delightful sweet potatoes? Oh, who am I kidding -- it's the holidays, and the checkered flag was waved as of Thanksgiving, so it's time to Unleash the Kraken for rich, delicious food that we'll have all of 2013 to regret stuffing our faces with.

Sweet Potato Buffalo Fries... because, yeah, that's a thing - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I'll be the first to admit that I make unreasonable bargains with myself when it comes to food. I'll say "no" to Yukon gold potatoes because they're so starchy, and "yes" to sweet potatoes and yams because they have more nutrients and a little lower starch content... and then douse those slightly more nutritious sweet potatoes and yams with sauces, cheese and whatever else that negates that little extra bit of health they offered. I've never made myself out to be a Health Saint, that's for sure, but when I crave French fries -- which is fairly often -- I'll do what I can to try and squeeze out whatever little bit of nutritional value I can. Enter: Buffalo Wing Yam Fries.

Thanksgiving sort of ruined yams, in my opinion. How they got to become synonymous with being in a casserole dish, covered with marshmallows is beyond me. I blame the South, the Midwest, and the Flyover States in general for ruining a perfectly delicious spud, giving it the false beard of "appetizer" when it's really some unholy dessert in that terrible guise. So I thought I'd ruin yams in my own, special Wasabi-way, dousing it in Frank's Hot Sauce and sprinkled with crumbles of blue cheese. Totally unrelated to Thanksgiving, I just really wanted Buffalo Wings. Which, really, who doesn't? I also thought this would be a great Meatless Monday/Junk Food Binge meal. Who says vegetarianism doesn't have a naughty side? Nothing with a face went into this heaping pile of indulgence, so let this spicy, cheesy flavor-fest rock your vegetarian socks off.

Cheesy spicy potato goodness - Photos by Wasabi Prime

If you decide to make this beast of a meatless feast, take some yams -- peeled or unpeeled, the skins are fine if you leave them on -- and cut into fry-shaped wedges. Yams really are the best for this because of their intense bright orange color -- it really plays into the Buffalo Wings theme, and as they say, we eat with our eyes first. Toss with vegetable oil and some salt and pepper, and spread out on a baking tray lined with parchment paper, to keep them from sticking. Put the tray in a preheated 420-degree oven. High heat is good, it will roast the potatoes, pull out all that moisture, and help dry them out a bit. You can fry them, this would make them true fries, but deep frying is a pain in the rear, and this works in a pinch. I usually run the tray under the broiler for a minute or two, just to give it a little crisp, but they'll burn fast, so keep an eye on them. While they're still hot, toss the yams with your favorite hot sauce (Frank's is my favorite), and then sprinkle crumbles of blue cheese over it before eating with abandon. Baked fries aren't as crisp as deep-fried ones, but once they've got sauce and cheese on them, you'll eat them with a fork, so that's why I feel the baked vs deep-fried option is negligible.

My second Fry Binge was with sweet potatoes. I told you, I crave French fries A LOT, so I like having some options to make those unreasonable food bargains with myself to pretend the food isn't as rich and naughty as it truly is. This fry-binge was inspired by that fabulous creation from Canada, poutine. If you've never had poutine, it's Mana from Heaven -- crispy fries doused with gravy and topped with squeaky cheese curds. I don't know the backstory over how poutine was invented. I'm guessing it was probably the result of a very drunk beer-soaked night, but much like our own US-equivalent of pile o' drunk food -- nachos -- it's a cure for what ails when there's too many ales. This version is meatless -- no gravy -- just a basic bechamel sauce. I added spice by seasoning the sweet potatoes with a mix of extra pepper and cayenne before they were baked. While the spiced sweet potato fries are roasting in the oven -- same temperature as the yam fries -- I use the stovetop to make the bechamel, which just a basic white sauce that I add a mixture of cheeses to towards the end. I added white cheddar and parmesan, but you can add whatever cheeses you like.

How sweet it is - sweet potato fries with cheese sauce - Photo by Wasabi Prime

This of course results in yet another messy pile o' gooey food, but who cares, as it was delicious. Cheesy, spicy sweet potato goodness. The nice thing about sweet potatoes and yams is that they have a noticeable and distinctive flavor -- they're not neutral like a typical plain potato. The natural sweetness takes the addition of spice really nicely, the richness of a sauce and strong cheese doesn't drown out the potato. For the cheesy sweet potato fries, adding a healthy sprinkle of paprika before serving helps keep it from being pale, white food, and it reminds your eyes that you're eating something with a little kick.

So let the celebration of the holidays begin -- we can happily swaddle ourselves in heavy winter coats and Snuggies as we dig into all our favorite foods. At least until January first comes around and we can make all those pesky resolutions to eat carrot sticks for every meal.

UnRecipe: Nacho, Nacho Man... I Want to Be a Nacho Man...

The ability to endlessly drop quotes from The Simpsons is like a superpower. A lame, proof-of-no-social-life superpower that would likely not get any consideration from the Justice League if they were ever taking resumes. But my lame superpower is a real thing. Because I was singing Homer Simpson's "Nacho Man" song (to be sung in the tune of The Village People's "Macho Man," if you didn't already suss that out) in a constant loop while I was making a heaping plate of nachos not long ago. It also helped that I had the power of Duffman with me, because I was a little tipsy at the time. More like drunk as a skunk, and it was all for the sake of a social experiment, proving why nachos are the Perfect Food. Because be you blissfully inebriated or stone-cold sober, you can't get them wrong. Bless you, Nachos. Bless you.

The "control" part of the experiment - Sober Nachos - Photo by Wasabi Prime

I've never claimed to be the Queen of Intelligent Decision-making Skills. In fact, I somewhat relish the messy imperfections of life, a la 30 Rock's Liz Lemon, or a marathon of Chelsea Handler rants because I appreciate people -- women, especially; even TV characters -- who just fumble through life and just say whatever they're going to say. Cluttered, sloppy anarchy appeals to me. I love Martha Stewart crafts and the picturesque lives portrayed on other blogs, and I stare at them dreamily as I drink the last few guzzles of wine straight from the bottle because dammit, I just don't want to wash another glass. "Perfect" is a tricky word. It's as subjective as ice skating or child beauty pageants or any number of annoyingly loathsome things. But I dared to seek out Perfection when I had the monster-craving for nachos after a particularly long day and a thankful abundance of fresh produce.

Salsa that isn't made in New York City (New York City?! Get a rope.) - Photos by Wasabi Prime

As mentioned before, this was an experiment of sorts, where there were two Nacho Sessions: one platter where the ingredients were carefully selected and crafted with care, and a second platter where Duffman thrusted in my general direction with boozeahol and I attempted to make another nacho platter while completely drunkfaced. It all started out with a can't-go-wrong base: homemade salsa. I had a variety of fresh fruits and vegetables, including tomatoes, a red onion, fresh cilantro, tangerines, mangoes -- boom, into the salsa party they went, chop-chop-chop. It takes a few hours, or even better, overnight, for the salsa to really come together in terms of flavor. It was great on its own with some plain tortilla chips, but I knew the citrusy-fresh salsa would be dynamite with a cheesy nacho platter. 

Fresh salsa and chips - had to taste-test to make sure it was good, right? - Photos by Wasabi Prime

So I constructed the Nacho Perfection in a clear-headed state, using the fresh salsa and making a batch of white cheddar cheese sauce, versus shreds of cheese. Fancy, no? But worth it, because the fondue-like sauce won't set up like tree sap once it starts to cool, and being more viscous, it drips and oozes through the layers of piled-up chips. Sexy, right? To really get the ideal salsa/topping-to-corn chip ratio, it's better to spread a layer of chips, then the salsa, then another layer of chips over that, and so on. Gravity will ensure the cheese sauce gets to where it needs to go. A finish of chopped fresh avocado over the top, and it's true Nacho Perfection down to a science. I loved every bite of it and wondered, why don't I make this more often? To which my sober mind ruefully answered: because you'll get huge, stupid. Better go for a run after this. Damn you, Common Sense. Damn you to hell.

My momentary junk food high got me thinking, what is it about corn chips doused with cheese and a random smattering of vegetables that really speaks to the teenage stoner in all of us? I think that sentence sort of answers itself. But there is a casual comfort in eating a literal pile of food on a plate with your fingers.  It's meant to look like a mess, fancying it up would be missing the point, there's an endless number of customizations and it's the food you overdosed on in college because it was super-easy to make in the microwave, especially after a raging kegger. And it always tasted good, that mixture of gooey cheese, crispy chips, salty-salty madness. And even when the cheese cooled, forming a Nacho Pangea of chips and solidified fake cheddar, you just ate it like a pizza before passing out on the couch.

Sobriety, Interrupted. The Drunk Nacho Experiment with equally delicious results - Photo by Wasabi Prime

Those blissful memories of my early twenties and a much more efficient metabolism were with me when I had a brewski or twoski. Or maybe it was wine. Or liquor. I lost track. It was for SCIENCE, I told myself. And then I thought of that Simpsons episode where Homer is at a baseball game and gets a giant sombrero-top hat hybrid made out of corn chips, where the top is full of liquid cheese, and the idea is you break off a bit of the brim, dip into your cheesy hat-bowl, and enjoy, whilst singing "Nacho Man." You can't make this stuff up. This is why The Simpsons is a treasure for our troubled age. So that was in my head while I tipsily threw together a second batch of nachos, this time with the addition of bacon. Because I wanted to reserve the bacon fat. Because I wanted to use it to make a batch of cheese sauce, but with the power of bacon. Because... because... I love you, maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan... *burp*

The Drunk Nachos weren't as prettily put together. The bacon got a little burned. The cheese sauce was a little grainy. The settings on the camera were out of sorts. But by golly, the nachos were still delicious. Imagine a BLT version of nachos. The leftover salsa made it in there somewhere, but this version was mostly cheese, due to my overeager drunkenness. I didn't care, my tastebuds rejoiced and I had a satisfyingly indulgent dinner where my Common Sense Inner Voice was rufie-d silent from laying an exercise guilt trip on me. As Homer would say: Beer... now there's a temporary solution.

Admit it, you want to be a Nacho Man, or possibly Duffman - Photos by Wasabi Prime

What did this prove beyond my love of The Simpsons, alcohol and cheese-covered corn chips? Not much, but I was pleased to test the unbreakable power of nachos. Promises get broken, civilizations fall, but know that Nachos are Forever.

UnRecipe: It's Always Sunny in Chimichangaville

What insane crazyperson would be inspired by a TV series where one of the main characters gained an unhealthy amount of weight and walked around an episode with a black garbage bag full of fried fast food, foisting it on all his friends? Answer: this crazyperson. The Prime is just a permanent dweller in TV Dinner-land, and it's time for Chimichangas.

Meals inspired by the Sunny funny bunch - Photo by Wasabi Prime, cast photo from IMDB.com

One of Mr. Wasabi's favorite TV series is It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, probably one of the most inappropriate, offensive sitcoms full of the worst bunch of rude-a-saurus rex characters you'll ever meet. Which of course is why it's so damn funny. I haven't seen every episode, but I've seen such classics as when the gang gets addicted to meth or Dee tries to get into the black market baby-selling business. Shenanigans galore!! Friends and Seinfeld this ain't, and that's probably why it's the one sitcom I can somewhat tolerate, as most sitcoms are so milquetoast and the humor feels about as canned as a block of Spam (sorry, Spam). So when the new season of Sunny came out, with Mac getting beefcaked-out on fast food, hauling a Hefty bag full o' fried goodness, why wouldn't you be inspired by such a culinary feat??

Mac gets hefty, but Wasabi tries to keep it healthy when a food craving comes on - food photos by Wasabi Prime

Chimichangas are one of those Americanized cultural dishes, much like General Tso's Chicken or Teriyaki beef bowls. It doesn't really exist in the natural culinary landscape, but it took America to take an anomalous dish and breed it into our knowledge of unhealthy but delicious food-based lifeforms. Kind of like white tigers. Chimichangas may have started out as a simple, basic burrito, but then Southwest TexMex-style cooking got a hold of it and dropped it straight into a vat of fry oil. The tortilla gets all crispety-crunchety, the inside becomes a melty mix of fatty meat, cheese and maybe a scrap of a vegetable or two, and if you can avoid burning all the skin off the inside of your mouth as you bite into it, it's pretty darn delicious. Much like watching an episode of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, it's a big ol' naughty, indulgence that you can't help enjoy every minute of. I remember eating these when I used to live in Arizona and also remember the fry oil hangover that inevitably follows. It's a deep-fried lethargy that's like no other, and I feel my arteries harden just thinking of those bygone days of ill-conceived meal choices. Ahh.... memories.

Of course, a lack of nutritional good sense and sitcom humor behaving badly won't dissuade me. I wanted to make a Chimichanga that wouldn't be a one-way ticket to Lipitor-Land. I made two different batches of fillings -- a Southwest-style mix of peppers, black beans, chicken and corn, then a hash of kale, sweet potatoes and sausage. I used phyllo dough in place of tortillas, brushing a couple of sheets with vegetable oil and rolling up some of the filling and making little packets that could be baked in the oven. The dough crisps up nicely in the oven, baking it according to the package directions, and the filling is already cooked, so the oven time is just to give it that crunchy bite. Once they were done, I let them cool a little and they were small handheld snack-sized munchies that came in handy the Saturday night I made them.

We were invited by friends to have drinks last-minute that night. Fortified on baked faux Chimichangas, we managed to keep the Kraken from fully being unleashed after several beers and much karaoke. Usually food like this is what you eat after a long booze bender, but in this case, it ended up keeping the night from being a total washout. Saved by baked Chimichangas. There's a first time for everything. It's not to say we didn't wake up with a little bit of a hangover (mostly the sore-throat feeling from howling out "Sweet Caroline"), but that's where the leftover kale and sweet potato hash filling came in handy -- throw a fried egg on it, and we could forget all our shenanigans from the night before. Don't worry, no meth or black market baby-selling. That I remember, at least...

Leftover kale hash hides all sins from the night before - Food Photos by Wasabi Prime