Work has been brutally kicking my ass lately, which is one of several reasons why I haven’t been updating as often as I’d like to.

It’s literally been so busy that it hurts; to the point that I’ve found it’s exacerbating an ulcer I’ve had on and off for nearly 10 years.  For the past few months I’ve been working on a huge project that takes up all of my time (and then some) and I live the project, eat the project and sleep the project.  It’s kind of exhausting.  Every couple of days I’ll be at my office and some coworker or other will tell me how I look like shit lately.  Well, duh!  Of course I do!!  I’m running myself ragged and not sleeping because of how worried I am over whether it will all get done.  And the funniest thing about it is I’m not even working as a project manager anymore, so I’m really not accountable for the success of what we’re doing, but I just can’t turn it off, per se.

Of course, after a tough day at the office the last thing I want to do is stand around and cook for an extended period of time, but since the Everyman doesn’t really cook, that doesn’t leave too many options, otherwise.  Especially when I’m trying not to do takeout or delivery more than once or twice a month.

So, what’s a mentally drained peon to do?  Come home and whip up a sriracha-laced, crumb-topped, roux-thickened cup ‘o mac and cheese, of course.

And, it wouldn’t be complete without a sweet, refreshing glass of Gerwurtztraminer on the side, either.

Having wine with homemade mac and cheese isn’t all that different from having wine with a glass of plain old pasta with parmagiano sprinkled on top, is it?  Or the classical pairing of the wine and cheese party?  This one’s just a little more fancy-meets-lowbrow, is all.

Not only do the fat and starch soothe my savage, overworked heart, but they also provide the immediate pleasure of performing (and getting lost in) a repetitive task.  Grate, grate, grate goes the cheese.  Whisk, whisk, whisk goes the roux.  Sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle goes the panko.  Then, nom, nom, nom goes foodie & co. when the finished plates of oozy, gooey gloop materialize before them.

KD it ain’t, that’s for sure!

And while my stress level and 2 week old tension headache haven’t managed to subside, for a few hours I felt the sweet release that comes from warm, homey, comforting food and obliterating alcoholic beverages.

And sometimes, that’s the best you can ask for.

Until next time…

It started off simply with a 3 lb standing rib roast that our organic grocer brought in January that I’d been too lazy to do anything with.  Since it’s only the Everyman and I, we don’t often have roasts because we just can’t finish the leftovers before they go bad.  I’ll even admit that I wasn’t wholly confident that I could properly prepare this roast to a perfect medium rare pink, either.  Though Epicurious.com came to my rescue with some pretty generic instructions for cooking rib roasts, I still wasn’t sure it would be edible because their instructions were for a minimum 4 lb roast.  I coated the thing in herbs and spices, threw it in the oven and hoped for the best.  I sometimes think that a lot of my culinary successes come about through the sheer force of me willing them to be tasty.

It was only a natural thought progression that yorkshire puddings would also be in order.  You can’t have a rib roast without a good old fashioned yorkshire pud.  But any old pudding would not do, so I opted for an herbed yorkshire pudding.  I’ve only made these once or twice before in my life, and while they sound extremely complicated, they are actually quite easy, so I would suggest that you try them next time a roast is on the menu.  Just make sure that you watch out for hot fat spatters to the eye.  Ouch!

Next, I fondly remembered the silken gnocchi I devoured at Celestin in their delicate pea puree.  I didn’t have peas, but I did have potatoes, so I fashioned some pillowy gnocchi and sauteed them in a beurre noisette, truffle oil and rosemary sauce.  Divine.  The best part of the recipe was that it left me with enough gnocchi dough to make another side dish out of it whenever the mood happens to strike again.

We needed some veg too, so a simple side of broccoli sauteed in butter, salt and pepper until the edges were crisped and slightly browned.  It probably wouldn’t have hurt to have a second vegetable, but my options were somewhat limited so I took comfort in the fact that potatoes (while starchy) are still technically a vegetable.  And really, let’s be realistic here.  Comfort food is rarely all that healthy anyway.

A red wine thyme gravy pulled everything together.  Gravy is another one of those things that I don’t have a huge comfort level with, but the Everyman assured me it was delicious.  Score!  It amazes me sometimes how such elegant sauces can come from nothing more than the burnt bits (fond, to you fancy types) on the bottom of a pan and a splash of wine.  Screw molecular gastronomy; making great sauce is the real culinary alchemy.  A splash over top of my cherry pink roast beef and pud, and I was good to go.

For dessert, I couldn’t go wrong with more red velvet cupcakes.  Piled high with vanilla frosting, there really is no better comfort food than this.  There’s something warm and fuzzy about ingesting something that artificial looking and glowing red.  Perhaps it’s because red velvet cupcakes remind me of another childhood favorite; the Jos Louis.  Mmmm.  I’m salivating for one of those right now.

I don’t think I’ve eaten this well and been so satisfied in a long time.

Until next time…