Sometimes you just gotta pat yourself on the back...

So apparently I have a shitty camera and it doesn't have enough pixels or whatever to pick up all the colors that I want to show. I'm also not very good at camera angles because when I look the picture of the soup I made I'm not like WOW THAT LOOKS AMAZING even though it did IRL. Well, whatever. I made carrot habanero soup which was fucking delicious in every single way, shape and form and it's probably going to be my new go-to soup for parties and such. So, I kicked the ass of River Lounge in London and I will now formally challenge them to a carrot soup throwdown. Don't worry River Lounge, I will come to you. I'll even pay for my own tix.

Boo-ya shaka.

I'm happy I didn't let my mind go into overload again with this soup. I had been thinking about it for way too long and if I would have waited another day to make it my mind probably would have exploded. That could have been messy and who really wants to clean that? Yuck.

Unfortunately for the people in my life that will never truly diet with me around, I have about 12814912849127 more dishes to try out. This time I'm actually WRITING DOWN MY DAMN RECIPES and I'm keeping them under lock and key and I'm determined to get my fucking book done. It seems to be taking a major turn towards the tapas direction but who knows. I think after my month in Spain I will do this summer and hopefully next winter I will be able to go to Cuba for a couple of weeks. I think the maximum stay for Cuban-Americans or Americans with family in Cuba is 2 weeks. So, that would be nice to be able to spend some time with family and really get to know Cuban culture for what it really is, not the washed out culture that I know. I want fresh mamey shakes, something I've never had. I've never seen mamey here in CA other than in frozen baggies but I've had it in FL before. Supposedly the mamey fruit grown in FL is horse caca compared to that in Cuba. I guess I will have to see for myself.

Munching.

My mind's been running wild with foodies I want to make tomorrow for dinner. Unfortunately, my mom bought China's entire March harvest of mussels earlier this evening which means I should make paella de mariscos but then I'm making something I've made a million times which is not inspired by my recent food adventure. I've been thinking about the carrot soup I had at River Lounge in St. Katherine's Docks in London - and how I can make my own variation of it. What it lacked was an over-all punch. It had bits and pieces of zing from a tiny bit of chopped up cilantro but not nearly enough over-all WOW factor. I'm thinking about jazzing it up with some roasted shallots for additional sweetness and some other ideas that are running through my head. I shouldn't give it all away before it's said, done and written down in my book, right? Right.

These. These right here. These puppies. They are a given. Papas Bravas and Salsa Brava. Done deal, set it stone. They are like a classic
Jackson song. Either it's done right or it's karaoke. I'm not fucking with these. Why ruin what's already perfect? Sometimes a chef/cook or whatever needs to know there are some things you fuck with - and some that you don't. I have been thinking about these mean and awesome little fuckers since my plate was empty and I was asking for more but I was told I had cosido waiting at my cousin's house for me to eat and other classic Spanish dishes so I unfortunately had to say no to plate number two.

Oh my mind, she is crazy. I should probably take a xanax and sleep for 14 hours then wake up and caca and go back to sleep. Since I need to get up in the morning and find a whole fresh cod fish to make baccalao I guess I can't live the druggie life... And I'm well aware that it's spelled bacalhau and it's referring to salted codfish but that was when Spaniards and Cubans were poor and used salted codfish. Now that there's such a thing as fedex overnight shipping so stupid Americans can make cod dishes from fresh cod.

blahblahblah whatever. be jealous.