Showing posts with label fuck fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fuck fall. Show all posts
Friday, October 1, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
pardon my french
It's officially fall, a time of year most Vermonters seem to love. I'd decided that I, too, was going to enjoy the season this year, but now that it has arrived, I ask you: What is there to enjoy about this oppressively low, colorless sky and high-of-50-degrees weather?
Fuck fall. Fuck foliage, fuck crisp, sunny days and cold nights, fuck pumpkins (not literally, please), fuck harvest festivals, fuck the smell of woodsmoke in the air, fuck hot, mulled cider, fuck wool sweaters and leather boots, fuck bike rides, fuck apple picking, fuck swishing through piles of fallen leaves.
Enjoying fall is like enjoying the view out the window of a crashing airplane. "Look, I think I can see the..." BAM! We're going down, bitches, and while the scenery might be pretty, this flight is going to end in a ball of flames in some farmer's field. And when I say "ball of flames in some farmer's field," I mean "dark, subarctic igloo of depression on my couch." So stop fooling yourselves: Winter's coming.
[This recipe is not as much a recipe as it is an idea for a simple, delicious salad. A salad that will not work come winter, as the tomatoes are a central component. So eat up.]
1 small red onion, peeled and finely diced
1–2 fresh chiles, seeded and minced [the kind of chile you use will depend on how spicy you'd like your salad—I used a serrano one time and a jalapeno another, neither of which made the dish particularly hot in the end]
2–3 handfuls of ripe cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered depending on the size
2 lemons
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1–2 cans chickeas, drained and rinsed
a handful of fresh mint, chopped
a handful of fresh green or purple basil, coarsely chopped
1. Add the onion, chile, and tomatoes to a bowl, and dress with the juice from 1½ lemons and a couple of glugs of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Heat the chickpeas in a pan over medium heat, then add 80% of them to the bowl. Mush up the remaining chickpeas and add these, as well. Allow to marinate for a little while and just as you're ready to serve, give the salad a final dress with the fresh mint and basil. Taste one last time for seasoning—you may want to add the juice from your remaining lemon half at this point or more salt and pepper. Top with crumbled feta cheese.
Fuck fall. Fuck foliage, fuck crisp, sunny days and cold nights, fuck pumpkins (not literally, please), fuck harvest festivals, fuck the smell of woodsmoke in the air, fuck hot, mulled cider, fuck wool sweaters and leather boots, fuck bike rides, fuck apple picking, fuck swishing through piles of fallen leaves.
Enjoying fall is like enjoying the view out the window of a crashing airplane. "Look, I think I can see the..." BAM! We're going down, bitches, and while the scenery might be pretty, this flight is going to end in a ball of flames in some farmer's field. And when I say "ball of flames in some farmer's field," I mean "dark, subarctic igloo of depression on my couch." So stop fooling yourselves: Winter's coming.
Summer Chickpea Salad With Local Tomatoes and Herbs
Adapted from JamieOliver.com
[This recipe is not as much a recipe as it is an idea for a simple, delicious salad. A salad that will not work come winter, as the tomatoes are a central component. So eat up.]
1 small red onion, peeled and finely diced
1–2 fresh chiles, seeded and minced [the kind of chile you use will depend on how spicy you'd like your salad—I used a serrano one time and a jalapeno another, neither of which made the dish particularly hot in the end]
2–3 handfuls of ripe cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered depending on the size
2 lemons
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1–2 cans chickeas, drained and rinsed
a handful of fresh mint, chopped
a handful of fresh green or purple basil, coarsely chopped
1. Add the onion, chile, and tomatoes to a bowl, and dress with the juice from 1½ lemons and a couple of glugs of olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.
2. Heat the chickpeas in a pan over medium heat, then add 80% of them to the bowl. Mush up the remaining chickpeas and add these, as well. Allow to marinate for a little while and just as you're ready to serve, give the salad a final dress with the fresh mint and basil. Taste one last time for seasoning—you may want to add the juice from your remaining lemon half at this point or more salt and pepper. Top with crumbled feta cheese.
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