I’ve always had these grand visions that I’d become some sort of vixen in the kitchen. Like one day, I’d read a recipe and poof! There I’d be in a fabulous dress and pearls holding a martini in one hand and a perfectly cooked roast chicken and all the fixings in the other with a smile as wide as the Keystone state on my face.
That’s pretty much never happened, not even once.
But I still study recipes, rip them out of magazines and file them away for That Special Day When I Become A Cook.
To give myself credit, I have gotten a lot better in the past two years, so a few weeks back I decided to plan a nice little romantic dinner for my fella and I.
We started off with fresh mozzarella and fresh Italian bread from our local Italian market with olives, olive oil and balsamic vinegar for dipping and prosciutto, paired with a vintage White Cat from our wine cellar.*
Polenta Marsala followed, the first time I made it for the fella, and it was a big hit.
And for dessert, I made something special: Butterfinger truffles from the December issue of Bon Appetit. The recipe, which, by the way, is the very first recipe that I made from the magazine, sounded uncharacteristicly simple for BA, “so easy a caveman could do it,” I said to myself as I scribbled a supply list.
Well, it was fairly easy. Once I cleaned up the mess from the blender when I tried to chop the chocolate chips and Butterfingers – and my finger when I sliced it with a steak knife as I tried to chop the latter.
Putting said ingredients in a plastic sandwich bag and smashing them with a hammer worked much better. Vixen in the kitchen!
Once everything was mixed, it had to chill for “about two hours.” Off the green bowl went into the fridge. I set about doing other things like wrapping presents, etc. and patiently passed the time.
When the two hours were up, I set up my cookie sheet lined with foil in eager anticipation of rolling the mixture into the most darling, most perfect little chocolate balls of Butterfingery goodness – and smeared the not-even-close-to-being-ready mix all over my hand.
Which would have been disgusting if it didn’t taste so damn good as I licked (most of) it off. Vixen in the kitchen!
I put the bowl in the freezer for 20 minutes, then back in the fridge for another 20. Still not enough. I don’t know if I had too much stuff in my fridge that day** or what, but it took a lot longer than two hours, but finally, I was able to make the truffle mixture into something that could pass, to a blind person, as a ball.
The recipe said there would be more than enough to feed a party and give every guest a few to take home. Since my version yielded roughly 16 truffles, I found this to be false as more than half of the recipe ended up smeared all over my hands, which, of course, ultimately ended up in my belly. Vixen in the kitchen!
All in all, the truffles did end up being a big hit with the fella, which was the end goal. I filed this recipe in the Save To Make Again list that I just now made up – but next time, I’ll make it the night before and roll the truffles the next day.
Vixen in the kitchen!
*I jest. We don’t have a wine cellar, just a closet full of booze, but we do have a lot of Red and White Cat that we unabashedly adore.
** Normally, my fridge looks like that of a bachelor.