This project may have pushed me over the threshold from ‘avid home cook’ into official ‘food loving nutjob’ territory. I have waited weeks to share this experience with you in fear that talking about rendering lard in January would break some cardinal rule of food writing and instantly add twenty pounds to my scale. Now that February is almost past I feel that I can safely talk about how in pursuit of the perfect pie crust I ended up with a massive hunk of pig fat sitting on my counter.

I am going to spare you the photo of the pig fat. It was big, scary, and the terrifying image of 10 pounds of pure fat has driven me to become best friends with my stairmaster. Why pig fat you ask? Well for years I have read that lard pie crusts are a sublime experience, creating a flaky pie crust nirvana that cannot be achieved with mere butter or shortening. Over time I have experimented with all butter pie crusts, all shortening pie crusts, and many combinations of the two. I have searched in grocery stores and online for a source of quality lard with no luck. One store bought package of lard smelled so rank I couldn’t bear to put it in a pie (or anything else for that matter). So after years of fruitlessly searching I came to the conclusion that I would have to make my own. When a local farmer told me that she was butchering a group of premium Berkshire hogs, I signed up to purchase the fat.

As Mr. B and I gazed at the mound on my cutting board we both wondered what the heck we had gotten into. Thankfully I had the reassuring guidance of both Homesick Texan and Not Without Salt in my back pocket, and could march onward toward pie crust perfection. Carefully I cut the fat into cubes, and then placed it in a very large pot with a little water at the bottom. The pot was heated gently until the fat started to liquefy while the water evaporated. Soon, an oddly familiar piggy aroma filled the kitchen. After about an hour of occasional stirring, the fat was completely liquefied and beginning to turn a light shade of brown. Traditionally this process will create cracklings, however I think the fat we purchased was already processed to some degree and did not have anything that looked like cracklings at the end. Once the liquid was strained through heavy cheesecloth, I ladled it into clean jars, let it cool, and then stored it in the fridge.

After a few weeks had passed (and the image of that mound of fat faded a bit) I decided it was time to put the lard pie crust theory to the test. Mr. B requested a Blueberry Peach Pie, so I opted to use half butter and half lard to achieve a balance of sweet and savory flavor in the crust. As you can see in the photo above, the lard created long streaks of fat in the dough. When heated in the oven, the fat liquefied quickly, leaving thin layers of air throughout the crust. Once cooled the crust looked almost perfect (note: when making a lard crust don’t go big on the edges of the pie, they will fall off in the oven!) With a slice of pie in front of me, I picked up my fork and pressed down on the crust. It shattered with a flurry of flakes sticking to the gooey fruit filling. The crust was tender, slightly nutty, and sweet. It was hands down the best pie crust I have ever made, bringing me very close to pie nirvana.

If you want to join me in the club of lard rendering food loving nuts, I encourage you to check out the detailed posts by Homesick Texan and Not Without Salt. I would like to try doing this a few more times before instructing anyone on the ins and outs of rendering lard. However with pie crust nirvana now within reach you can bet I will be rendering lard again!

February is often a tough month in the Midwest. This year it has been particularly challenging. We are in what Mr. B (and many other locals) are calling the worst winter in recent memory, with record snowfall totals and almost 90 consecutive days of temperatures below 32 degrees. It is snowing as I write this- big fat fluffy flakes – beautiful, but not the signs of Spring I so desperately want to see. Even the wild animals seem to be tired of winter, with deer, wild turkeys, and squirrels coming out of the forest in search for food at the neighborhood bird feeders.

I find myself daydreaming of green grass, warm breezes, and fresh asparagus. Yet Spring is a short season in the Dakotas and we still have about two months before daffodils will appear through the snow. Beyond Spring, Summer seems like an elusive fantasy. A warm gold-tinged memory far from my current reality.

In my freezer I have a stash of Summer treasure saved up just for this very moment. When the winter seems impossibly long, I can pull out plump blueberries frozen in June and ripe Colorado peaches frozen last August, and defy the season by making a pie. The power of pie to lift one out of the winter doldrums should never be underestimated. Sweet peaches, dark blueberries, and a tender flaky crust, will bring a taste of summer to chapped lips and a smile to your face. If you are so moved, you may even hug your freezer.

Blueberry Peach Pie (Printable Recipe)

Ingredients:

1 double pie crust (recipe below, step-by-step photos here)

2 cups Blueberries, thawed and drained

4 cups sliced Peaches, thawed and mostly drained

1 Tablespoon Lemon juice

1/2 cup Sugar

1/4 teaspoon Cinnamon

pinch Nutmeg

pinch Table salt

1 Tablespoon Arrowroot starch

Directions:

Pre-heat the oven to 415 degrees with a rack in the bottom two-thirds of the oven and a drip pan below the rack.

In a medium bowl, gently mix together blueberries, peaches, lemon juice, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and arrowroot.

Roll out one of the crusts on a lightly floured surface, until it is 12 inches in diameter. Carefully transfer the crust to the bottom of a 9 inch pie dish. Trim the dough so it only overhangs the dish by 1/2 inch. Pour the fruit filling into the pie. Roll out the second crust in the same manner, and lay it over the top of the pie. Trim the overhanging crust so it is also about 1/2″ beyond the edge of the pie plate. Pinch the edges together to seal the crust. Cut a few slits into the top of the pie. Place the pie onto the rack, and bake.

Bake the pie for 15 minutes at 415 degrees. Reduce the heat to 325 and continue to bake for 45-50 minutes, until the filling is bubbling and the crust is lightly browned. Remove the pie from the oven and let it cool for several hours before serving.

Ingredients:

3 cups unbleached all purpose flour

2 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1 cup leaf lard or shortening, slightly chilled

5 tablespoons (or more) ice water

Directions:

In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, and salt until blended. Add the cubes of cold butter and lard to the mix, and rub them between your thumb and fingers until they break into small pea-size pieces and are incorporated with the flour. Add 5 tablespoons of ice water to the bowl, and mix it in with a fork. Keep adding water by the teaspoonful until the dough sticks together when you press a small piece between your fingertips. The mix will still look quite crumbly at this time.

Dump the mix out onto a flat surface, and using the heel of your hand, press down and out four to six times, smearing the dough onto the counter. This will create layers of fat, providing a flaky crust. Use a bench scraper to scrape the dough off of the counter and form it into a ball. Divide the dough into two pieces and flatten each piece into a disk. Wrap the disks with plastic wrap and place them in the fridge for 30 minutes or up to two days. Let dough warm up at room temperature for 5 minutes before rolling it out.

Beer is an awesome secret ingredient. Whether you are braising short ribs, grilling chicken, or simmering a batch of chili, the hoppy nuanced undertones of beer will elevate a dish to a new level of flavor. On yet another weekend characterized by blowing snow and cold temperatures, Mr. B and I set out to simmer our way to happiness by cooking a large batch of hearty chili. To kickoff the flavors, Mr. B pulled out his latest Rouge brewery find, a bottle of Smoke Ale. Dark, complex, and with a noticeable background of smoke, this ale created an excellent foundation for a robust chili.

For additional flavor inspiration, I turned to two rising food bloggers, Nishta of Blue Jean Gourmet and Kate of Savour Fare. (Kate was recently nominated for a Bloggie for Best New Blog, a HUGE honor. I have my fingers crossed for her!) Kate’s recipe uses a slow cooker but I set my stove to a very low simmer and let the chili cook for about six hours with excellent results.

The wind blew, the snow flew, and by the time night fell our entire house was perfumed with a spicy tomato aroma. Curling up in front of the TV with a bowl of cheese topped chili, I wondered aloud why on earth we didn’t cook chili more often. When it comes to late winter comfort food- chili is perfection in a bowl!

Smoke Ale Chili (Printable Recipe)

Serves 8

Ingredients:

1 lb ground beef

1 Tablespoon olive oil

1 large onion, diced (about 3 cups)

2 14.5 oz cans fire roasted tomatoes

1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

1 6 oz can tomato paste

1/2 lb Yellow Indian Woman Rancho Gordo Beans, cooked (or 4 cups of canned beans)

3 green bell peppers, roasted, skins removed, and chopped

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon ancho chili powder

1/2 teaspoon ground chipotle powder

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon epazote

1/2 teaspoon adobo seasoning (optional)

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 bay leaf

2 1/2 cups chicken broth (or leftover pot liquor from cooking the beans)

1 cup smokey beer, such as Rogue Smoke Ale

1 cup frozen corn kernels

Sharp-flavored cheese, finely grated (I used Tilamook aged cheddar, a favorite cheese)

Avocado, diced

Sour cream

Fresh cilantro

Red onion, diced

Directions:

Place a large heavy pot with a lid over medium heat. Add the ground beef and cook, breaking it into small chunks, until the beef is browned, about 5 minutes. Remove the beef from the pot and set aside. Drain the fat from the pot, discard, and return the pot to the heat.

Add olive oil and onion to the pot. Cook until the onion is softened but not translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the serrano and garlic to the pot. Cook, stirring frequently for 2 minutes, or until the garlic is fragrant. Next add the tomato paste, and stir for one minute. Add the browned beef, beans and bell peppers, stirring well to combine.

Reduce the heat to medium-low, add all dry spices and the bay leaf, and stir well. Pour the chicken broth into the chili, stir, and heat with the lid off until the liquid reaches a gentle simmer. Reduce heat if necessary to maintain a very low simmer, cover the pot with the lid, and cook for 4 hours, stirring occasionally. The chili will thicken considerably. If it begins to stick to the bottom of the pot then the stove is too hot. Reduce the heat and stir in more chicken stock to prevent sticking.

After 4 hours, add the beer and frozen corn kernels to the chili. Stir well, and continue to gently simmer with the lid set ajar for 1-2 hours longer. Find the bay leaf in the chili, and discard it before serving.

Serve the chili topped with cheese, avocado, sour cream, cilantro, and red onions.

When the challenge was thrown down to create a mezze (an assortment of small plates), my mind raced off in a million directions, thrilled with the possibilities. Homemade pita bread and hummus from dried garbanzo beans were at the top of the list. Fresh pita is impossible to find in town and with my recent foray into bread baking for once the thought of working with dough didn’t scare me silly. A bag of dried garbanzo beans had been sitting slouched down in my pantry for over a year and begged to be used. Also, Mr. B and I managed to squeeze in a big-city run just before the mezze, where I stocked up on peppadew peppers, artichoke hearts, balsamic marinated cippolini onions, and the makings for dolmas and muhammara. The ingredients were pulled together, a sleepy snowy Saturday in February was selected, and we set out to create a mezze feast.

The pita bread came together beautifully. A simple dough, of water, olive oil, and flour, it happily bubbled and rose into a large bowl of dough. Once rolled out and tossed into the hot oven the pita rounds puffed up like blowfish. It took several rounds of cooking to work through all of the dough but the reward of warm fresh pita was well worth the effort. I can’t wait to make this recipe again.

Once soaked and cooked the garbanzo beans were whizzed in a food processor along with tahini, garlic, and lemon, creating a nutty thick dip. I had always wondered at the difference between hummus made with canned chickpeas versus dried chickpeas, hearing from many online that there was no discernible difference. When I tasted a spoonful of the hummus made with dried chickpeas, however, the improved texture of the hummus blew me away. It had the fluffy but smooth texture of the hummus from our favorite Lebanese restaurant- something I had never been able to recreate at home.

You have already heard about the dolmas, and the Greek salad, which added the necessary protein and vegetables to make this into a somewhat balanced meal. The delicious and addictive muhammara recipe is from Lebanese food blogger extraordinaire Olive Fig Grape. Together with the pita and hummus it all created a veritable feast.

Mr. B got into the spirit of the meal, lighting a fire in the fireplace, and pulling out a bottle of Kozlovic Malvazija wine. Our first encounter with a Croatian wine and the malvazijian grape, the Kozlovic had a beautiful golden honey color and a bright acidic aroma. If you are used to a fruit spectrum of flavor in white wines, the absence of fruit in this wine may surprise you. The Kozlovic paired quite well with the savory mezze dishes, providing a smooth and slightly bitter counterpoint to the richly flavored food.

Sitting by a fire, drinking wine and nibbling on a mezze feast is a wonderful way to spend a cold Saturday in February.

Pita Bread (Printable Recipe)

Adapted from Flatbreads and Flavors by Jeffrey Alford and Naomi Duguid

Makes Approximately 16 pitas

Prep time: 20 minutes to make, 90 minutes to rise and about 45 minutes to cook

Ingredients:

2 teaspoons regular dry yeast

2.5 cups lukewarm water

5-6 cups all-purpose flour

1 Tablespoon table salt

2 Tablespoons olive oil

Directions:

1. In a large bread bowl, sprinkle the yeast over the warm water. Stir to dissolve. Stir in 3 cups flour, a cup at a time, and then stir 100 times, about 1 minute, in the same direction to activate the gluten. Let this sponge rest for at least 10 minutes, or as long as 2 hours.

2. Sprinkle the salt over the sponge and stir in the olive oil. Mix well. Add more flour, a cup at a time, until the dough is too stiff to stir. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8 to 10 minutes, until smooth and elastic. Rinse out the bowl, dry, and lightly oil. Return the dough to the bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let rise until at least doubled in size, approximately 1 1/2 hours.

3. Place a pizza stone, or two small baking sheets, on the bottom rack of your oven, leaving a 1-inch gap all around between the stone or sheets and the oven walls to allow heat to circulate. Preheat the oven to 450F (230C).

4. Gently punch down the dough. Divide the dough in half, and then set half aside, covered, while you work with the rest. Divide the other half into 8 equal pieces and flatten each piece with lightly floured hands. Roll out each piece to a circle 8 to 9 inches in diameter and about 1/4 inch thick (do not roll much thinner than 1/4 inch or the pita will become hard). Keep the rolled-out breads covered until ready to bake, but do not stack.

5. Place 2 breads, or more if your oven is large enough, on the stone or baking sheets, and bake for 2 to 3 minutes, or until each bread has gone into a full balloon. If for some reason your bread doesn’t puff up, don’t worry it should still taste delicious. Wrap the baked breads together in a large kitchen towel to keep them warm and soft while you bake the remaining rolled-out breads. Then repeat with the rest of the dough.

Hummus (Printable Recipe)

Adapted from The New Book of Middle Eastern Food by Claudia Roden

Makes Approximately 3 cups

Prep Time: Hummus can be made in about 15 minutes once the beans are cooked. If you’re using dried beans you need to soak them overnight and then cook them the next day which takes about 90 minutes.

1.5 cups dried chickpeas, soaked in cold water overnight (or substitute well drained canned chickpeas and omit the cooking)

2-2.5 lemons, juiced

2-3 garlic cloves, peeled and crushed

a big pinch of salt

4 tablespoons tahini (sesame paste)

Paprika

Olive Oil

Directions:

1. Drain and boil the soaked chickpeas in fresh water for about 1 ½ hours, or until tender. Drain, but reserve the cooking liquid.

2. Puree the beans in a food processor (or you can use a potato masher) adding the cooking water as needed until you have a smooth paste.

3. Add the lemon juice, garlic, salt, and tahini, mix well. Adjust the seasonings to taste.

4. Transfer to a serving bowl, sprinkle paprika on top, and drizzle olive oil around the edge of the bowl.

The first Valentine’s Day Mr. B and I spent together was quite unofficial. We had only just started to hang out- a hike here, coffee there. Our interactions were becoming more frequent and intentional but had yet to cross the line beyond friendly acquaintances. We met through family, which is how I found myself going out to dinner on Valentine’s Day with Mr. B, my grandparents, and his parents.

I recall wearing a little black dress, sandals (boy do I miss warm weather!), and fussing over my hair for probably an hour ahead of time. I arrived at the restaurant with my grandparents. A tiny Italian place on Highway 101, it was packed with couples spilling out onto the sidewalk in the dark night. Mr. B and his parents were waiting and we all squeezed around a tiny cafe style table inside the dimly lit restaurant. The noise level was off the charts loud and we had to shout to be heard over the busy evening. Mr. B ordered fried calamari as an appetizer, something I would learn later that he can never resist. I don’t recall what I ate, or even the conversations, just a feeling of jittery happiness at seeing him dressed for dinner and sitting across the table from me.

After the meal, we navigated our way through the crowded tables and out of the restaurant. In the dark parking lot, we said goodbye, and Mr. B gently leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. It was nothing really, just a simple and polite kiss, but I found myself charmed by the gesture and beginning to fall hard for this tall Midwest man.

In the spirit of that first Valentine’s Day, this Meyer lemon panna cotta is an Italian dessert that will charm any dinner guest. Silky, richly flavored, and brightened by sweet raspberries- it is a simple yet sophisticated way to finish a special dinner. The entire dessert can be prepared a day ahead of time, leaving only a few minutes of assembly the day of the meal. Even better, the creamy lemon panna cotta is rich in texture but sits light on the stomach, leaving you with energy for whatever the rest of the evening may bring!

Meyer Lemon Panna cotta with Raspberry Sauce (Printable Recipe)

Adapted from Bon Appetite

Serves 6

Vegetable oil

1 cup whole milk

1 cup whipping cream

1/2 vanilla bean

5 tablespoons fresh Meyer lemon juice

2 teaspoons unflavored gelatin

1/2 cup sugar

1 cup crème fraîche

2 tablespoons grated Meyer lemon peel

3 cups frozen raspberries (about 12 ounces), thawed, drained, juices reserved

3 tablespoons (packed) golden brown sugar

3 tablespoons framboise (raspberry-flavored liqueur; optional)

Fresh Raspberries

Mint Leaves

Powdered Sugar

Directions:

Lightly oil six 3/4 cup ramekins or custard cups. Place a heavy medium saucepan over medium high heat. Add the milk and cream to the pan. Split the vanilla bean in half lengthwise and scrape the seeds from the bean into the liquid. Then put the bean halves into the pot. Bring the liquid to a simmer, then remove from heat and cover with a lid. Let the mixture steep for 30 minutes. Remove the vanilla bean halves.

Pour the Meyer lemon juice into a small bowl; sprinkle gelatin over the top. Set aside for 10 minutes, or until the gelatin softens. Stir the gelatin mixture and the sugar into the milk mixture. Return the pan to low heat, and stir until the sugar and gelatin are both dissolved, about 2 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat. Whisk in the crème fraîche and lemon peel. Divide the panna cotta evenly between the six ramekins. Cover each ramekin with plastic wrap, and place in the fridge to chill. Let chill until fully set, at least 6 hours or overnight.

Puree the raspberries, all the reserved juices, brown sugar, and framboise in a blender. Strain the puree through a fine sieve into a medium bowl, pressing on the solids to get as much liquid as possible. Discard the remaining solids. If making ahead, cover the sauce and chill for up to 1 day.

Take the panna cottas out of the fridge an hour or so before serving to take off the chill. (I took mine out just before we sat down to dinner.) Run a thin small knife around the edge of each panna cotta to loosen it. Place the bottom of each ramekin, one at a time, in a bowl of hot water for about 45 seconds. Place a plate on top of the ramekin. Hold the plate and ramekin tightly together, and invert firmly, shaking gently to turn out the panna cotta. Spoon the raspberry sauce around the panna cotta and garnish with a mint sprig, fresh raspberries, and a dusting of powdered sugar.

Lobster Pot Pie. The name almost appears to be an oxymoron- luxury meets comfort, high end meets homemade. Earlier this year, on a solo business trip to San Francisco, Mr. B had the opportunity to enjoy a lobster pot pie at Michael Mina’s famous restaurant. He returned home with tales of the magnificent flavor and memorable preparation, dropping many frequent and obvious hints that perhaps we should try to recreate the dish at home. Feeling more than slightly sorry that I missed out on this extraordinary meal, I took his hints and saved them up for a special occasion.

This is not a recipe for the faint of heart. Requiring significant amounts of time, an excess of expensive ingredients, and more calories than any reasonable person should consume in a single sitting- this recipe is a commitment. Yet, when the cooking is finished, and you sit down before a beautiful golden crust hiding creamy sweet lobster and tiny vegetables, commitment is no longer the correct word. Lobster pot pie becomes a declaration of love. Each bite is a blend of supreme comfort and indulgence, something you would not wish to share with mere acquaintances, but instead save for those whom you treasure. If you are looking for an over-the-top way to say “I love you” at home, this lobster pot pie is a memorable way to do it.

Lobster Pot Pie (Printable Recipe)

Adapted from Michael Mina, Nob Hill

10 lobster bodies (I used only 4 with good results, but 10 would be awesome)

3 Tablespoons olive oil

Mirepoix

2 white onions, chopped

1 fennel bulb, chopped

1 leek, chopped

1/2 bunch celery, chopped

1 celery root, chopped

Broth

2 cups brandy

4 Tablespoons tomato paste

5 thyme sprigs

1 bay leaf

3 quarts (12 cups) heavy cream

Roux

4 Tablespoons butter

4 Tablespoons flour

Directions:

1.) Cook the lobsters. Place a large pot lined with a steamer basket and filled with several inches of water over high heat. Place the lobsters in the pot, cover with a lid, and steam for 2 minutes or until the lobster is just cooked. Transfer the lobsters to a cutting board and let cool. Once the lobsters are cool, clean them by pulling the outer shell away from the legs and inside meat. Scrape away the lungs, reserving the tomale and roe for another use. Save all of the shells for the lobster cream and set the meat aside for the filling.

2.) Make the mirepoix. Place a large stockpot over medium heat. Add the olive oil and lobster shells to the pot. Sear the shells until they turn a rich red color, about five minutes. Add all of the mirepoix ingredients to the pot and cook until the vegetables are softened, about five minutes.

3.) Make the Broth. Stir tomato paste into the mirepoix, and cook for another five minutes. Deglaze the pan with the brandy, scraping up any bits stuck to the bottom of the pot. Add the thyme, bay leaf, and heavy cream into the pot. Bring the liquid to a gentle simmer and cook for 45-60 minutes, until the broth reaches your desired depth of flavor. Strain the broth through a fine mesh sieve into a large bowl. Clean the pot and return it to the stove.

4.) Make the Roux. Place a small pot over medium heat and melt the butter in the pot. Whisk in the flour, and stir constantly until the roux turns a tan color, and the flour is cooked, about 6-7 minutes.

5.) Make the Lobster Cream. Return the strained broth to the stockpot and bring it to a simmer over medium heat. Vigorously whisk in the roux a bit at a time until the broth reaches your desired thickness. Turn off the heat, and let the lobster cream cool before assembling the pot pies.

Ingredients:

1 1/2 lbs All Purpose flour

1 lb butter, small dice

1 cup ice water

1 teaspoon salt

Directions:

To make the pie dough, sift the flour into a large Cuisinart style mixer fitted with a blade attachment. While briefly pulsing the blade, drop small pieces of slightly chilled butter into the flour. Season the mixture with salt. Slowly pour the water into the mix while pulsing until just incorporated with the flour. Do not over mix the dough. Remove the pie dough from the mixer, pat it into a disk, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to use (up to 2 days ahead).

Ingredients:

Reserved lobster meat, cut into bite sized pieces

1 cup pearl onions

1 cup sliced carrots

1 cup English peas

1/2 lb turnips, peeled, blanched, and cut into 1″ pieces

Lobster Cream

Pie Crust

Directions:

Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees. Remove the pastry dough from the fridge, to take a bit of the chill off while you fill the pot pies. Place 3 ounces of lobster cream broth in the bottom of each 8-10 ounce ramekin or oven safe dish. Evenly distribute the cooked lobster and vegetables between the ramekins. Do not overfill the dishes, you may have some lobster cream and filling leftover. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured surface, until it is 1/4 inch thick. Set a ramekin on the pastry and using a knife, trace around the bottom of the ramekin, adding about 1″ to the edge, so the dough will overhang the ramekin. Repeat until 10 pastry circles are cut out. Gently cover the top of each ramekin with a pastry, pinching the edges of the pastry to seal the top. Set the ramekins on a rimmed sheet pan, and bake for 14-20 minutes, or until the crust is a light golden color. Let cool for five minutes before serving.

Note: The pot pies can be completely assembled 1 day ahead of time, and baked straight from the fridge. You will need to add 5-10 minutes to the cooking time to account for the chilled ingredients if you are cooking the pot pies this way.

Is it just me or does it seem like most men have a signature recipe? By ‘most men’ I actually mean ‘men who don’t cook frequently’. The non-cooking men in my life have a wild variety of signature dishes each one unique and worthy of a blog post. My grandfather is known for his grilled lamb chops, my father for his porcupine meatballs (which, thankfully, do not involve real porcupine), my brother for his Christmas fudge, and Mr. B for his guacamole. The fact that my husband’s specialty requires corn chips is not lost on me. Between his love for guacamole and my love for salsa we should have named the dog Tostito.

Like any good manly recipe, Mr. B’s guacamole has no set measurements. Relying on a handful of this and a pinch of that, the dip comes together through a blur of chopping, squeezing, and smashing (grunts are optional). Mr. B likes his guacamole so much that it rather pains him to have to share it with anyone else. This explains why when preparing the dip for guests it is necessary to start with at least five avocados and scale it up. The cook needs his fair share!

I have tasted an abundance of guacamoles and am happy to say that Mr. B makes a mean dip. He manages to achieve a spicy, tart, and addictively rich combination of ingredients that leaves us fighting for the last chip. The secret ingredient to Mr. B’s success? Olive oil. Now this is by no means authentic but a small drizzle of olive oil provides the liquid fat necessary to carry salt and spices seamlessly through the dish. Just a touch will give you a smooth and creamy background texture without annihilating all chunky bits of avocado. Since the Superbowl is the only football game he watches (yes, I thank my lucky stars) you can bet Mr. B will be counting out his avocados come Sunday!

Do you or the men in your life have a signature recipe? I’d love to hear about it!

Mr. B’s Guacamole (Printable Recipe)

Serves 4-6

As noted, adjust the quantities as you see fit. Guacamole should always be tweaked to match your individual tastes!

Ingredients:

4 avocados, sliced in half and pitted

1/4 cup finely diced red onion

1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely diced (use a jalapeño pepper if you don’t like spicy)

3 garlic cloves, minced

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

2 small limes, juiced (or 1 large lime)

1/4 teaspoon epazote

1/4 teaspoon toasted onion powder (optional)

1 Tablespoon olive oil

Kosher salt

Freshly cracked pepper

Directions:

Scoop the flesh of the avocados into a medium bowl. Add the onion, serrano pepper, garlic, and cilantro. Use a fork and gently mash the ingredients until they are just combined, but still very chunky. Add the lime juice and olive oil and stir until walnut-sized chunks remain. Add salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste.

Note: If you are making this ahead of time, squeeze an extra bit of lime juice on the surface and press plastic wrap into the top of the dip. This will help prevent the avocados from oxidizing and turning an unappetizing shade of brown.

Is it just me or does it seem like most men have a signature recipe? By ‘most men’ I actually mean ‘men who don’t cook frequently’. The non-cooking men in my life have a wild variety of signature dishes each one unique and worthy of a blog post. My grandfather is known for his grilled lamb chops, my father for his porcupine meatballs (which, thankfully, do not involve real porcupine), my brother for his Christmas fudge, and Mr. B for his guacamole. The fact that my husband’s specialty requires corn chips is not lost on me. Between his love for guacamole and my love for salsa we should have named the dog Tostito.

Like any good manly recipe, Mr. B’s guacamole has no set measurements. Relying on a handful of this and a pinch of that, the dip comes together through a blur of chopping, squeezing, and smashing (grunts are optional). Mr. B likes his guacamole so much that it rather pains him to have to share it with anyone else. This explains why when preparing the dip for guests it is necessary to start with at least five avocados and scale it up. The cook needs his fair share!

I have tasted an abundance of guacamoles and am happy to say that Mr. B makes a mean dip. He manages to achieve a spicy, tart, and addictively rich combination of ingredients that leaves us fighting for the last chip. The secret ingredient to Mr. B’s success? Olive oil. Now this is by no means authentic but a small drizzle of olive oil provides the liquid fat necessary to carry salt and spices seamlessly through the dish. Just a touch will give you a smooth and creamy background texture without annihilating all chunky bits of avocado. Since the Superbowl is the only football game he watches (yes, I thank my lucky stars) you can bet Mr. B will be counting out his avocados come Sunday!

Do you or the men in your life have a signature recipe? I’d love to hear about it!

Mr. B’s Guacamole (Printable Recipe)

Serves 4-6

As noted, adjust the quantities as you see fit. Guacamole should always be tweaked to match your individual tastes!

Ingredients:

4 avocados, sliced in half and pitted

1/4 cup finely diced red onion

1 serrano pepper, seeded and finely diced (use a jalapeño pepper if you don’t like spicy)

3 garlic cloves, minced

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

2 small limes, juiced (or 1 large lime)

1/4 teaspoon epazote

1/4 teaspoon toasted onion powder (optional)

1 Tablespoon olive oil

Kosher salt

Freshly cracked pepper

Directions:

Scoop the flesh of the avocados into a medium bowl. Add the onion, serrano pepper, garlic, and cilantro. Use a fork and gently mash the ingredients until they are just combined, but still very chunky. Add the lime juice and olive oil and stir until walnut-sized chunks remain. Add salt and freshly cracked pepper to taste.

Note: If you are making this ahead of time, squeeze an extra bit of lime juice on the surface and press plastic wrap into the top of the dip. This will help prevent the avocados from oxidizing and turning an unappetizing shade of brown.