Cookbook Winner!

Image from Amazon

Thanks to everyone who filled out my survey. I LOVED hearing your input and learning more about y’all. Lots of good feedback on how to proceed with next month’s planned upgrade.

I got uber nerdy determining the winner of my favorite cookbook. I put the email addresses in an Excel spreadsheet, printed that shiz out, cut them up into individual slivers, and had Max pick one out of a box. It was time consuming. I felt stupid. The winner is: Ashley.samadhi.

Ashley: holler at me with your address and you shall receive. Send it to flojindamesa@gmail.com.

Last Day to Take Survey!

Thanks to everyone who’s taken my survey so far; it’s been really interesting to learn who you are and what you like. I’ll announce the cookbook winner tomorrow. If you haven’t taken the survey, please do so. It’s painless, I promise (only ten questions).

Answer these ten questions for a chance to win my favorite cookbook.

We’ve Come a Long Way, Baby

Ahoy readers. Next month I’m coming up on two splendid years of blogging, and as such I’ve decided to finally shimmy out from under my web-related fear and insecurities (read: I’m old and don’t get this technology stuff) to give this blog the revamping it deserves.

HOWEVER, before I do so, I want to find out about you and why in the hell you read my blog anyway. Who are you people? What do you want to see more of, and more importantly, what do you wish I’d stop subjecting you to IMMEDIATELY?

Please take my survey and deliver your brilliant opinions thusly. For your trouble, I’ll randomly select one lucky survey filler-outer to whom I will send my favorite cookbook. T’is merely a trifle, but as Eat Drink Nola is a non-profit (as in no profit), our giveaways are modest (but our love and admiration is vast).

Without further ado, please participate in my short yet gratifying experiment:

Click here to take survey

ad hoc at home (aka, Why You Aren’t Fit to Scrub Thomas Keller’s Dirty Pots)

For Christmas, my mom gifted me Thomas Keller’s new cookbook, ad hoc at home, because it was a book I’d long desired sold at Costco. My mother is tre European about Costco, and by “tre European” I mean she shops there like a Spanish mother of five frequents the local carniceria. Daily.

So far, 90% of my interaction with the book has been to stare at the photography, mesmerized. Check it:


A banana split has never looked so lovely. I’m sure you’ll agree.

However, randomly strewn between the pages are what I suppose are meant to be glimpses into the world of Thomas Keller. Every time I come across these winsome tableaus, I imagine a scene like the following took place between Keller and the publisher.

"Okay, Tom. Let’s show your readers what ad hoc means to Thomas Keller. Let’s reach down deep and pull up the raw stuff. Mike, put on Jefferson Airplane. I don’t want us to be afraid to get weird in here. Take your socks off; explore the kitchen; grab some of your favorite kitchen tools and be intimate.”

(And in a slightly lower, ominous tone: “Don’t worry about the copy, we’ll fill that in later.”)

Because that is the only way we could have ended up with this, right?


Or this?


So far the Eat Drink Posse has attempted the burrata salad, the ad hoc version of the wedge, and a swiss chard dish.



Indeed, each was delicious in its own way. But, as my sister pointed out, had she followed the swiss chard recipe exactly, she would have mussed almost EVERY POT IN MY KITCHEN, for a FREAKING VEGETABLE SIDE DISH. I respect what Thomas Keller does for food, I just don’t know that the average home cook has the same time or resources to devote to the glory that is the vegetable.

(Or, in other words: I’m lazy.)


Did the stalks of the broccolini need to be gently peeled away with a paring knife? Did the cremini mushrooms need to be uniformly paper thin, sliced so by a recently sharpened mandoline? Perhaps not. But it warms my shriveled raisin heart to know that someone out there thinks these vegetables deserve such treatment.