|
|
|
Dinnercraft helps bring your (and our) protracted adolescence to an end. Our authors cover topics ranging from cooking and eating, to home and garden, to crafting and DiY, and all the rest of the things you find yourself caring about these days.
Despite my fundamental opposition to food in unnaturally vibrant colours and/or designed to appeal to children, I felt compelled to make something festive for St. Patty’s Day desert. St. Patrick (Patron Saint of Food Colouring) would have been proud of me. I whipped up a batch of cupcakes that looked like they escaped a gay club on a rave night, topped them with a dab of whipped cream and a sprinkling of marshmallows from a box of Lucky Charms.
Nothing says “Erin go bragh!” like Lucky Charms, people. My Irish ancestors would be SO proud.
The children intimated that the rainbow cakes (which I first heard of last year when my friend Adina made her twins a whole cake in this manner) were the most majestic and awesome thing they’d ever laid eyes on. While they were no culinary masterpiece, they were tasty and very funkadelic.
Having a love in? Trying to convey to your co-workers that your days in the closet are over? On cupcake duty for a birthday at school? Here’s a demo on how to make them yourself:
CAVEAT EMPTOR: Post cupcake poops may be *brighter and more vivid* then usual.
I nearly died this morning.
32 years of life flashed before my eyes in a fleeting second.
I was half asleep and hadn’t yet managed to scrape up a cup of coffee. My contact lenses weren’t in, …
Every so often, I meander through the plethora of kooky parenting message boards that seem to dominate the interwebz. My reasons for poking around in places I don’t really belong are usually nefarious, and mainly …
Stuffed peppers mean nothing to me. I have no attachment to them whatsoever. We never had them in my house growing up. I made them last night simply because we had the ingredients in the …
Every single element was perfect. But was the whole greater than the sum of its parts? Last night at 7:17, with the assistance of a glass of Soave, I constructed a peerless tower of power: …
I cocked up dinner once again last night. I swear it wasn’t my fault. I had planned to bake bread and do poached eggs with asparagus and Camembert (awesome, right?) but there was a mishap. The dough …
When I was a child, I was a judgemental and snotty little punk.
At some point in time, I had incubated and hatched the notion that kids with glasses were either:
a)mentally handicapped
b) unloved, unwanted, socially inept …
We found beautiful fruit, vegetables and eggs at the mercado earlier today. In order to compensate for overindulging at our favorite neighborhood taqueria last night and a pizza feast of epic proportions planned for tomorrow, …
If you’re looking for something super simple, tasty and slightly lowbrow to make for dinner tonight, have I got the recipe for you. Populism! This is how I did it last night:
Ingredients
broccoli
italian sausage
penne pasta
olive oil
garlic
dry …
Last night I cooked a chicken upside down. No, not to serve some satanic cult of poultry, merely because I am scatterbrained. Fortunately, it turns out that I am incapable of ruining a roast chicken and we …
‘Cause it was friggin’ delicious. Also, chicken thighs! Here they’re called muslo de pollo and I’ve had a package of these mofos in the freezer since before Christmas. I’ll admit, I was intimidated. Although of late I’ve become …
A bit of business to get out of the way before we begin: this is not “authentic” poc-chuc, and we’re not trying to make authentic poc-chuc. Why is that? The ubiquitous Yucatecan restaurant dish, which …
Nothing says Christmas like a cup of hot booze. Presents and peace are totally awesome, but baby, it’s cold outside,* and a steaming mug of liquid courage emboldens me to face the chilliest of nights. And …
Christmas the day has come and gone but the season doesn’t end until the tree comes down. On New Year’s Day we will make resolutions; will eat the last of the leftover camembert and make …
People often ask me if I’m planning on having any more kids, or if I’m going to attempt the clichéd ”try for a boy” because I have two daughters.
The answer? No.
Finis! Kaput! Done!
Not only do I …
Every good American knows, deep in the recesses of our fatty happy hearts, that fast food is only really appropriate if you are on the open road. Though I’m not sure the half hour drive …
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
