by Lindy West
Anyhow! Go to the farmers’ market, browse, talk to people. Learn to cook some simple, tasty things—it really is easy, don’t be afraid! (See the following recipes and get a good, simple cookbook to start—the ones from Cook’s Illustrated are neat.) Maybe learn a little about wine (see Wine, What the Hell’s the Deal?). In general, with food—as with all things—do not bloviate. Rather, share your secrets. Be excited. Bring a date, or make some food for one. They will love you.
So You’re a Vegetarian!
Good for you! Don’t be an asshat about it. It’s easy: Don’t preach, and if you get invited to eat food, let your host know, but tell them you don’t need any special treatment (then don’t need any special treatment).
A Really Easy, Really Pretty, Really Good Soup You Can Make With a Butternut Squash
Butternut squash is a hilarious-looking vegetable with fucking delicious insides. Find the biggest one at the grocery store, all beige and giant-peanut-like.
Then take it home and cut it in half. Each half will have a little bowl of cute seeds in it; scrape out these seeds. Then drizzle olive oil on the orangey insides, set both halves in a pan filled with a half inch of water, and put the pan in the oven at 400 degrees F for 45 minutes. While the oven softens up the squash, dice up a huge onion and toss it, along with some butter, in a stockpot, with lots of salt and pepper, and cook it (stirring some) over medium heat until the onion is soft. When you take the squash out of the oven after 45 minutes, it’ll be all hot and mad, but pretty soft and nice-smelling. Take a spoon and scoop all the squash out of its skin and put it in the stockpot with the onions, and then pour a container of organic chicken broth over it (regular chicken broth is fine, too). Then just let it bubble on low heat for a while. Bubble, bubble, bubble.
After a while bubbling in that chicken broth, the squash will get really soft. The orangey hunks become a chunky puree. Put in some more pepper, and a little cinnamon, and if you have any, some nutmeg and fresh herbs. Try it with a spoon. Goddamn! Good, huh? You can eat it like this if you want—a very chunky butternut squash soup—but you might as well go all the way and fancy it up by putting it in a blender and blending it. You might have to do it in batches. If you don’t have a ladle to get the chunky soup into the blender, use a coffee mug. Once all of it has been blended into golden smoothness, pour some into a bowl, put a plop of organic sour cream in the middle, and eat it.
With any luck, it’ll be raining outside. Eating butternut squash soup while it’s raining is the best.
How to Make Tacos
If you’re a know-nothing, talentless bore, you can just go to the store and get one of those packets of taco seasoning and add it to any meat you like. But who wants to be a know-nothing, talentless bore? Don’t you want to have a “specialty”? Don’t you want to impress you-know-who? If so, make this your specialty: spicy shredded chicken tacos from scratch. You-know-who will definitely want to make love to you after you’ve made spicy shredded chicken tacos from scratch.
Here’s what you do: Go to the store and buy some boneless, skinless chicken. Also buy a large onion, one or two containers of chicken broth, chili powder (note: don’t confuse chili powder with chili flakes), tortillas, and whatever other taco fixings you like—salsa and/or fresh tomato, avocado, cheese, sour cream (a must—organic tastes way better!), black beans (for maximum goodness, fancy ’em up with cumin, also found in the spice aisle), and cilantro.
When you get home, put the chicken in a large pot and add the chicken broth, enough to cover however much chicken you’ve bought. You are going to very slowly simmer that chicken in that chicken broth until those breasts fall apart on their own. This takes some time—about three hours (and if three hours have gone by without noticeable falling-apart, pull apart the chicken with two forks). While three hours of slow cooking sounds like a pain, imagine how nice and warm and chicken-y your place is going to smell by the time you’re done. Keep the heat on the low end of medium, and put a lid on the pot, with a little breathing room for steam to come out.
But wait! Right away, chop up a large onion and add it to the simmering pot—the onion plus the broth are going to do the bulk of the work, flavorwise. Then add salt, pepper (freshly cracked, if possible), and chili powder. The amount of chili powder is directly related to how spicy it will be, so just use a little at first, and later, when the broth has mostly boiled away, leaving delicious, falling-apart chicken, you can dip a fork in, taste the chicken, and add more chili powder to your liking.
Final tip for maximum greatness in your mouth: Heat the tortillas in a skillet covered in salt.
How to Make Very Tasty Pasta
There are so many ways! The most basic, a.k.a. Emergency Pasta, goes like this: Put a big pot of water on the stove on high, and put a handful of salt in the water. (Truly, a handful: Don’t be shy! Unless you have extra-giant hands.) Choose your favorite pasta shape of the moment (the brand Barilla costs a little bit more, but it’s worth it). When the water boils, put the pasta in and wiggle it all around with a big spoon so that none of it sticks together. Then grate some decent-quality Parmesan or, really, whatever cheese you happen to have around. If you have some pine nuts or other unsalted nuts, toast them (without any oil) in a pan on the stove on medium (watch carefully, they like to burn!). If you have some tomato, dice it up. Cook the pasta for the lesser amount of time on the box, then dip a piece out and taste it; repeat every minute or so until it’s the way you like it. Drain it and toss it in a bowl (or top it on a plate) with a good drizzling of olive oil, the cheese, the nuts, the tomatoes, and some fresh herbs if you have any (or dried if not—smell ’em and find one you like), plus lots of salt and pepper. Voilà! (A tip: If you’re serving it to a date, don’t call it Emergency Pasta.)
Sauce is almost as easy. You’ll need: an onion, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper, a big can of plum tomatoes, half a little can of tomato paste (optional), and some dried or fresh oregano and/or basil. Dice up the onion into pieces about an inch big, smash/de-skin a few cloves of garlic, and put it all in a skillet with a good splash of olive oil on medium heat. Salt and pepper it well. Cook until the onion is golden-translucent and floppy. (If you like meat, you can cut up some sausage or crumble some ground beef, and cook it with the onion.) Pour in the plum tomatoes (and the tomato paste if you want), and kind of chop/mangle up the big pieces. Add a spoonful of dried oregano/basil if you’ve got ’em; if you have fresh, wait until before you serve. Now it can simmer on low heat for anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour—it doesn’t really matter, though it gets more reduced and richer with time. Cook your pasta as in the paragraph above, and serve it with lots of grated Parmesan (not from a green can). Voilà!
How to Make the World’s Best Macaroni and Cheese (With a Monogram on It!)
This recipe takes some time, but it is completely worth it. Get all your ingredients out and ready (professionals call it, Frenchily, mise en place, or “everything in place”) before you start. Consider smoking some marijuana first, if you’re into that and won’t lose track of what the hell you’re doing.
1 pound large elbow macaroni (penne if you’re feeling fancy)
5 tablespoons butter
¼ cup all-purpose flour
2½ cups organic whole milk
About 5 ounces cheddar, sliced: sharp is good, as is Irish cheddar*
About 4 ounces Gruyère, sliced
About 2 ounces Parmesan, sliced
Pinch of ground nutmeg
Dash of Tabasco or Tapatio
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
About 4 ounces mozzarella, cut into ¼-inch cubes
About 2 ounces Parmesan, grated
Paprika
Bread crumbs, preferably homemade, but whatever
A couple slices of better-quality presliced white bread
Melted butter, for brushing bread
* You can use pretty much any cheeses for this recipe, just the same overall amount. Organic is better; organic Monterey Jack sounds bor
ing but is delicious (and could be used in place of the mozzarella). Parmigiano-Reggiano is nice, but really, this is just mac and cheese, people.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter a rectangular baking dish (you might have enough for a little round casserole dish, too).
Cook the pasta until just al dente (that is, not quite all the way done). Drain and rinse with cold water.
Get yourself a beverage. The roux/whisking-in-cheese takes a while and can get hot.
Melt the butter in a large/deep skillet or saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for one minute. (Look, you made a roux!)
Slowly whisk in milk, then cook for one to two minutes, or until lightly thickened to the consistency of cream.
Drop in the slices of cheddar, Gruyère, and Parm one or two at a time, whisking constantly, letting them mostly melt before adding more. Season with nutmeg, a dash of hot sauce, and salt and pepper. Remove from heat.
In a large bowl, combine cheese sauce and pasta. Stir in the mozzarella. Transfer to the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle with grated Parm, paprika to your liking, and bread crumbs ditto.
Cut pertinent initials or symbols out of slices of white bread with a sharp knife. Position artfully on top of macaroni, then brush liberally with melted butter.
Bake until the cheese is bubbling and the top is browned, 25 to 35 minutes.
Makes eight-ish servings. Hi!
How to Make an Impressive Entire Roasted Chicken
This is way easier than you’d think, but tongs are VERY helpful for the part where you turn the chicken. (This recipe is adapted from Cook’s Illustrated’s The Best Recipe—Cook’s Illustrated does things like roast 209 chickens in 209 different ways to find the very best method. Their cookbooks also have neat essays about all their experiments, the science behind cooking, different kinds of pans, and stuff like that.) Paying a couple dollars more for a free-range, or natural, or organic chicken is worth it (Trader Joe’s has a good selection). Maybe make this one for your roommates before you try it on a date.
Julia Child suggests that you serve roasted chicken with “a light red wine, such as a Bordeaux-Médoc, or a rosé.” Fancy! (See Wine: What the Hell’s the Deal?.)
8 or so of those small red potatoes (or fancy small red/gold/purple mix) Olive oil
Salt and pepper
3- to 5-pound whole chicken
Butter
Heat oven to 375 degrees F (move the rack to the middle). Cut the potatoes in half and put them in a rectangular baking dish with a good splash of olive oil; salt and pepper liberally; and stir them around to get them a little oily. (You can add mushrooms, carrots, turnips, and dried or fresh rosemary or other herbs, too.) Take the giblets—they’re those weird things inside the chicken—out of the inside of the chicken, and put them in among the potatoes. Rinse the chicken, inside and out, and pat it lovingly dry with a paper towel or two. Set it on top of the potatoes, one wing up. Important: To avoid potentially horrible illness, wash your hands and any surface the raw chicken has touched with hot, soapy water. Put a pat or two of butter on the chicken, and salt and pepper it liberally.
Roast your bird (that just means put it in the oven and bake it) wing-side-up for 15 minutes. Pull it out, turn it other-wing-side-up, pat-of-butter and salt/pepper it, and roast it for another 15 minutes. Pull it out, turn it breast-up (with the drumsticks sticking up in the air), pat-of-butter and salt/pepper it, turn the oven up to 450 degrees F, and put it back in for approximately half an hour.
Check it! You will know it is done when the drumstick wiggles in the socket readily and/or when juices run clear yellow when you stab it. (It doesn’t hurt to stab pretty deep in and look for any pinkness, meaning it’s not done, until you’ve made enough chickens that you have a good sense of doneness.) Cut it up and serve it with the delicious potatoes from underneath. And try the different giblets; some people like them.
Make Your Own Coffee!
You will save lots of money (and probably make new friends) if you make your own coffee. Get a coffeemaker or a French press or whatever, and get some decent-quality coffee (Trader Joe’s beans are pretty good and relatively cheap, and they have a grinder), and free yourself from the bonds of the evil mermaid! She only likes you for your cash.
Organic Food: WTF?
Everyone’s all, “Organic, organic, ORGANIC!” these days, and there are some pretty damn convincing political and environmental and health reasons. But it also makes sense to eat local (smaller carbon footprint) and seasonal (fresher, nicer) food, like from a farmers’ market, and it’s hard for little farmers to get certified organic because the USDA is big and mean. (You want to know more? Read all about it on our friend the internet!) Organic is also often markedly more expensive. Some things that reportedly have more pesticides—and thus are better to buy organic—include lettuce, spinach, bell peppers, celery, potatoes, apples, peaches, nectarines, strawberries, pears, and cherries. Organic milk and cheese tend to taste a lot better than their nonorganic counterparts. And meat can have some pretty weird stuff done to it if it comes from a factory farm; eat less meat, and you can spend a little more to get the good stuff. But you know what? If you’re cooking real food—instead of eating processed food or junk food or fast food or sweets, or existing on soda pop—you’re doing good. Don’t worry too much about the rest of it.
12. WHAT NO ONE ELSE WILL TELL YOU ABOUT MUSIC, BOOKS, AND ART
BY GRANT BRISSEY, PAUL CONSTANT, CHRISTOPHER FRIZZELLE, ERIC GRANDY, JEN GRAVES, AND DAVID SCHMADER
How to Be Into Music Without Annoying Everyone
Unless you’re already a sanctioned record nerd, or well on your way, you may find yourself entrapped by some predictable progressions upon entering college. Some of the most common (boring) phases are: the Pink Floyd Phase, the Bob Dylan Phase, the Jimi Hendrix Phase (if it didn’t take in high school), or, god forbid, the Bob Marley Phase (resist the temptation to grow dreadlocks, especially if you are white). If you do experience symptoms of such a phase, embrace it but keep it brief, and don’t make a big deal about it—no posters on the wall, no talking people’s ear off.
As a rule, music talk should generally be avoided, unless you’re saying something to the effect of “Have you heard them/him/her/it?” or “Yes! I love them/him/her/it. Put it on!” or “No, I’ve never heard them/him/her/it. Let’s hear it!” or “No, they/he/she/it have/has never really done it for me.” Always admit when you don’t know an artist, record, or song; anyone who would judge you for not knowing is not worth your time, and it’s often easily exposed when you lie about things in such uncharted territory. Plus, you’ll never learn it if you pretend to already know it. If you must jibber-jabber about music for any length of time, watch it with the genre names, bub. Half the time they mean something different to everyone involved, and using them just makes you sound like an asshole music critic, and no one wants to hang out with those dudes.
Once you have expediently processed your Bob Dylan Phase, investigate his superior alternative Leonard Cohen, starting with Songs from a Room and ending long before the second half of his discography. Pink Floyd? Chuck everything but The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. Hendrix? You can go wherever you like after Jimi, but keep all of his records because he is a god. Marley? Put the bong away (or in the trash if it features a skull and/or jester likeness) and get yourself in touch with Desmond Dekker, who traded more in rocksteady, which you should be listening to instead of reggae anyway—it precedes Marley, it’s slower, and it’s better. Also, get onto some classic dub records—King Tubby’s At the Controls is an excellent start.
What the Albums in Your Dorm Room Say About You
THE BEATLES: You own an album. THE ROLLING STONES: You own two albums. THE BEACH BOYS: You have never surfed in your life. THE CLASH: You’re experimenting with Marxism. SLEATER-KINNEY: You’re experimenting with lesbianism. BELLE & SEBASTIAN: You’re experimenting with acting gay to get the girls who are experimenting with lesbianism. M
INOR THREAT: You’re straight-edge and no fun at parties. FUGAZI: Used to be straight-edge, still no fun at parties. Q AND NOT U: Used to be straight-edge, learned how to dance, finally fun at parties! JAWBREAKER: You get sentimental about punk shows. LCD SOUNDSYSTEM: You get sentimental about dance parties. PHISH: You were in high school jazz band, and now you smoke pot. BOB MARLEY: Your parents know you smoke pot. THE RAMONES/SEX PISTOLS: You resent your parents for paying your tuition. PUBLIC IMAGE LTD.: You’re in communications. ARCADE FIRE: You’re in musical theater. DEVO: You’re in experimental arts. VAMPIRE WEEKEND: You wish you’d gotten into a better school. PAVEMENT: You test well but don’t do your homework. PUBLIC ENEMY: You resent “the Man” and/or are embarrassed about being the offspring of “the Man.” THE NOTORIOUS B.I.G.: You’re a chubby-chaser with necrophilia. LIL WAYNE: You love comedy and possibly cough syrup. (No homo!) LADY GAGA: You hate social injustice and possibly pants. (Yes homo!) PRINCE: You are funky, sexually freaky. AL GREEN: You are tastefully horny and likely to be a good lover. TOBY KEITH: Your dick smells like goat butt. GLEE SOUNDTRACK: You hate music.