Presentation is Everything OR How to Sound Like A Ninja in the Kitchen

If you're like me, most of the food you're making at home isn't all that groundbreaking. I've never made a foam (well, not intentionally), or a gelee, or bacon-and-wasabi-and-chocolate ice cream. (Ugh. Bacon.) But guess what? Nobody needs to know that. NOBODY. It's all in how you frame it, folks, and we're gonna frame it in awesome.

Ever notice how at a restaurant things almost always sound much more delicious and complicated, even if it's the simplest thing in the world to make? That is because restaurateurs know that they've gotta sell you on the dish before they can sell it to you, and we're going to take a cue from them. I will illustrate thusly: Perhaps my daughter asks me what we're having for breakfast. I could tell her "pancakes and fruit", or I could tell her "fluffy, warm whole grain pancakes with a drizzle of maple syrup, accompanied by a selection of local seasonal fruits". She's five, so it might not have the desired effect on her, but I know which breakfast I'd choose. Lunch could be peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or it could be "Creamy all-natural peanut butter paired with apricot preserves and generously slathered on two slices of soft whole wheat bread". Tonight, you're not having spaghetti for dinner, you're having "spaghetti imported from Italy enrobed in a rich, sweet marinara sauce".

Or maybe you don't want to describe the dish. Maybe your kids will roll their eyes or your husband's eyes will glaze over before you can even get going. That's okay, I've got you covered, too. Let's just rename the dish, since someone is bound to ask what you're making for dinner. If you're going to rename the dish to take it from "okay" to "ninja", I've found it's important to name several ingredients as well as two or three key flavors, and if you can, a state, country or region of the world. For instance, in our house, we eat a certain noodle dish a lot. I could just call it peanut noodles- that sums it up and my family knows what I'm talking about- but it sounds infinitely better if I call it Chinese sesame-peanut noodles with cucumbers and cilantro. I could make tilapia, lemony rice and green beans (eh), or I could make talapia in a lemon dill sauce with citrus-scented rice and steamed fresh green beans (ninja). You get the idea. Now, go forth and make yourself sound like a kitchen ninja. Perhaps they'll be so impressed someone else will do the dishes.

Breakfast Inspiration

Lately, we have been eating a LOT of Sam the Cooking Guy's version of grilled vegetable sandwiches. We eat them at least once a week, sometimes more. I love them because not only are they crazy healthy, but I love the way vegetables taste when grilled or roasted or otherwise cooked to the point of carmelization. It's the best way to eat vegetables. Plus, my husband and my toddler absolutely adore these sandwiches, too.

But anyhoo... Eating these sandwiches always leaves me with one little leftover square of ciabatta bread because said toddler eats a half-sized sandwich. Finding something to do with leftover bread is not difficult, as bread is one of my great loves in life. Seriously, I would rather die slowly than give up bread. One recent morning, I had a lovely bit of inspiration. I was about to unceremoniously devour the bread when the large bag of tomatoes from a friend's garden gave me an accusatory look. Clearly, they would not be ignored. My Foreman grill was still out from the night before (Hey, no judging. This isn't a housekeeping blog.), so I sliced up a tomato and threw it on that baby. (Man, I LOVE my Foreman grill, even if it is nearly a decade old.) Of course, now that grilled tomato was in the picture, plain ciabatta bread wouldn't do, so I spread a little butter on it, added a slice of Monterey Jack and popped it under the broiler. In a couple of minutes, this is what I had:

Now THAT says good morning- even on a paper plate.

P.S. Sorry for the crazy text spacing- I'm having issues with Blogger.