Let’s say we traveled back in time some twenty-odd years (I’m pushing it, but hey, nine is an odd number, right?), and you asked me the classic “What do you want to be when you grow up?” I’ll bet you all the homemade bread you can eat that I would have never answered, “I want to be a girl who writes about the random stuff in her head and in her kitchen—and takes photos of everything.”

 
(To be honest, growing up with two brothers and a slew of male cousins, I doubt I would have even referred to myself as a “girl.” For the longest time, I really believed I was a boy, like everyone else in the family. Then again, I also remember thinking that I was a baby dragon. Or Wonder Woman.)

 
When I graduated from high school, I had absolutely no clue what I wanted to do. My college major was a stab in the dark. Literally. No, I’m not kidding. I laid the list of majors on my desk, took a pencil, closed my eyes, and randomly … stabbed. And that was how I ended up with my first major: biology. As a testament to the infallibility (not) of the stab method, my succeeding majors were so dissimilar, they were in completely separate areas of study.

 
Sometimes, I find myself wondering what my life would have been like if I had just stuck to my first major. (Or my third one.) Or what about all the different things I wanted to be when I was much younger? I had dreams of becoming a fighter pilot. A teacher. Nun. Spy. Ninja. I also thought about becoming a jungle guide, mostly because I wanted to have a reason to walk around with a big old jungle knife tied to my belt. Yep. I definitely thought I was a boy.

 
The other day, I found a mess of old photos that my dad sent me a few years ago. And as I looked through them, I saw myself as a kid doing so many different things that it’s no wonder my career goals were all over the place. My parents gave me such a wealth and variety of experiences, all of which I enjoyed so thoroughly that, as a child, I thought, “I can soooo do this for a living when I grow up, and I’d have so much fun and be the best in the world at it that I’d earn lots and lots of money—then I can give it away to the poor, make them happy, and get someone to name a chocolate bar after me.”

 
Do keep in mind that I was about eight. Although … I do kinda still want someone to name a chocolate bar after me.

 
And so I thought I’d start a series of occasional posts where I’ll be sharing all the possible careers I could have chosen, with photographic evidence to back each one up. Because it’s not enough for me to once in a while wonder what could have been had I stuck to pre-med and become a doctor like I originally planned. I think it’s time to step back, look at the big picture, and realize that medicine wasn’t the first career detour of my life.

 
Because, for all I know, if things had worked out differently, I could have been …

 
Supergirl. Move over, Wonder Woman. I don’t need no invisible plane no more.

 
(If you were maybe expecting a series of serious posts, I deeply apologize.)

 
At least, not anywhere outside the crazy funny world inside my son’s head.

 
One day, while I wasn’t looking, my son Tim took over the little scratch notebook where I write all things and ideas food-related. And on the same page where I was writing down some titles of recipes I wanted to try, he proceeded to fill just about every empty line with his own hair-brained ideas.

 
It was at least an hour or two before I discovered it, and after a good thirty minutes of laughing that left me almost doubled up in pain, I wiped the tears from my eyes and reflected on how fortunate I am to have such a goofball around the house whose humor I totally get. And totally share.

 
And now, I want you to laugh as much as I did. Maybe not until the “doubled up in pain” part. Unless you really want to.

 
Note that everything is his. Including the parenthetical notations and strikethroughs. Kid’s twisted, I tell you. In a silly, funny way. But twisted, nonetheless.

 
I guess he really does kinda take after me.

Tim’s Alternate Recipe Titles

• Roasted Unicorn Thighs Topped With Roasted Happiness
• Triscuits (A Very Easy Recipe)
• Chocolate-Covered Joy Sprinkled With Self-Esteem
• A Toddler (?)
• Juicy Stuff Mixed Together With Creamy Stuff
• Easy Mac + Cheese, Without The Microwave (No Way!)

 
Tim’s Alternate Culinary Posts:

• How To Boil Eggs While Sky Diving
• How To Boil Eggs While Transcending Reality
• Hobo Edition: How To Find Ingredients From The Trash
• Removed by editor Hobo Edition 2: How To Help The Economy With A Noose
• Learning To Cook Your Favorite Meal Through Song And Dance
• Update: Learning To Control The Knife While You Learn To Cook Through Song And Dance. Stop Losing Fingers, People.
• How Freedom Fries Can Win the War Against Terror
• How To Fool Wine Tasters With Turpentine And Food Coloring

 
 
You know how sometimes people say, “You just can’t make this stuff up!” about some things? I swear, most of the time, his mind actually can make it up. And it’s stuff like this, left for me to discover in the pages of my notebook or on my desktop wallpaper or taped to my monitor, that brings hilarity to the daily grind of working from home.

 
Apparently, my camera’s memory card is fair game, too.

 
Two days ago, Christopher Kimball (@cpkimball), founder of America’s Test Kitchen, tweeted this:

The “Best” Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe? You try it and let me know!

 
So I did.

 
Having a son perennially hungry for cookies, it’s never a question of what kind of cookies to make—it’s more like, how fast can I bake them? An entire batch can go in a matter of two or three days, and since chocolate chip cookies are his favorite kind, I couldn’t resist the call. Especially not when the call came from Christopher Kimball, who is just about the only male television personality I look forward to watching more than Hugh Laurie of House, M.D. Come to think of it, I haven’t watched House, M.D. in a while, but continue to watch America’s Test Kitchen every chance I get. So I guess Mr. Kimball’s pulling ahead in the polls.

 
Uh-huh. We can have polls in our house. It could happen.

 
I read the recipe and immediately wanted to try it out. Two things intrigued me the most: the use of browned butter, and the whisk-rest-whisk-rest way of mixing the wet ingredients before combining with the dry. Here was something that was fundamentally different, instead of simply modifying ingredient amounts. It satisfied the geek and the chocoholic in me.

 
The recipe calls for browning the butter in a stainless steel skillet, which makes it easier to judge just how brown the butter is.

 
Note that the original recipe calls for butter that’s a deep golden brown, darker than my photo above. I was being a wimp and was scared I might burn the butter, so I pulled it out early. What I’m saying is, don’t worry if your butter looks much darker! That’s actually how it’s supposed to be.

 
Then you add the sugars and the eggs, repeatedly whisking and then letting the mixture rest a while before whisking it again. Look Ma, no mixer! Plus, I get to use the resting periods to clean up after myself and feel super efficient and productive and all.

 
It doesn’t take much, I know.

 
These puppies were BIG. I usually make smaller cookies and can fit about 12 to 15 in one of my sheets. For this, I only had room for about 8 cookies.

 
Another thing I loved about this recipe is that you just let them set on the baking sheet, which you leave on a wiring rack. No need to transfer the cookies out. Which is great for me, since I tend to forget about them and leave them on the sheets too long.

 
So, moment of truth. These cookies?

 
They were some of the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve had. The edges were slightly crisp, the center moist, chewy and oh-so-chocolaty. I knew these would be discernibly different as soon as I mixed the sugars with the browned butter. The resulting sugary sludge smelled so nutty, and after mixing in the eggs, the thick goo had a lovely caramel taste and aroma. I think it produced a unique depth of flavor, and I’m trying to hold myself back from taking a break right now and grabbing another one.

 
Ah, Mr. Kimball. You’re so good, and yet so bad for me. Thank you. I think.

 
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Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies

(Recipe from America’s Test Kitchen)

 
1 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 3/4 sticks butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon table salt
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 large egg, plus 1 egg yolk
1 1/4 cups semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup chopped pecans or walnuts, toasted (optional)

 
Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Combine flour and baking soda in a bowl. Whisk and set aside.

Melt 1 1/4 sticks butter in a skillet over medium-high heat. Keep swirling until butter has a dark golden brown color and a nutty aroma, about 1 to 3 minutes. Transfer it to a bowl and mix in the remaining butter until melted.

Add the sugars, salt, and vanilla to the butter and mix well. Add the egg and the extra yolk; whisk until smooth, about 30 seconds. Let it rest of 3 minutes, then whisk again for about 30 seconds, before letting it rest again. You’ll want to whisk this about 4 times, until you have a thick, glossy, and smooth mixture.

Gently stir in the flour and baking soda just until combined. Stir in the chocolate and nuts.

Form dough balls about 3 tablespoons in size, and place them on a lined baking sheet about 2 inches apart. Bake at 375 degrees for 10-14 minutes (mine took 10 minutes), then put the baking sheet on a cooling rack and let the cookies cool on the sheets.

 
So, was this indeed the “best” chocolate chip cookie recipe I’ve tried? Pretty much. And if not, then they’re awfully, awfully close. But I’d say most likely yes. Although … hmmm …

 
I think another taste-test is in order, just to be sure. You know me. I’m all about responsible reporting.

 
I’ve always loved pancakes. Growing up in the Philippines, we called them “hot cakes.” It was always a treat when we had them for breakfast, and it was always made with a mix. I still remember the red and white hot cake mix box, and I’m not even sure now if it was mixed with water or evaporated milk. I doubt we used fresh milk, since cow’s milk wasn’t really the childhood staple there that it is here.

 
And maple syrup? Finding out that “maple syrup” and “regular pancake syrup” were not interchangeable came as a big surprise to me. Then again, half the time, I used condensed milk on my hot cakes anyway, so I didn’t feel like I missed out.

 
I’m easy to please when it comes to pancakes. I just want them fresh, warm, and slightly sweet. I’m not picky when it comes to texture, because hey, I grew up on hot cake mix and water, remember? My son, on the other hand, sometimes has specific pancake needs. There was a time when he preferred them half-cooked (don’t ask). Then, all of a sudden, half-cooked was no good, and now he wanted the edges crispy. Then he started requesting pancake change-ups. “Surprise me,” he’d say.

 
Then I’d surprise him with toast instead.

 
Maybe that’s why he stopped requesting them. Hmmm. Anyway, I hadn’t made pancakes in a while, so I decided to whip up a batch this weekend. Nothing fancy, just your basic buttermilk pancakes. I made a huge stack that should have been enough to serve about 6 people. Instead, two boys inhaled every single one in about ten minutes.

 
Which left me with nothing for breakfast but toast. Ah, the irony of it all.

 
So I thought I’d share my go-to basic pancake recipe with you. It’s incredibly simple and easy, and a breeze to customize for any of those surprise “pancake change-up” requests. But trust me: as is, with no other adornment but perhaps a pat of butter and some syrup, this pancake can certainly stand proudly on its own.

 
—————————

Basic Pancakes

(Recipe adapted from America’s Test Kitchen)

 
2 cups all-purpose flour
1-2 tablespoons sugar, to taste
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
a dash of salt

2 cups milk with 1 tablespoon lemon juice, left sitting for five minutes
1 egg
3 tablespoons melted butter

 
Mix the milk and lemon juice together and let sit for a few minutes to thicken. In the meantime, whisk the dry ingredients together in a bowl. Set aside.

Whisk the egg and the cooled melted butter. Add to the milk and lemon juice mixture. Gently mix the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, just until combined. Do not over mix.

Cook pancakes as you normally would, using 1/4-cup scoops of batter.

Variations:

1. Replace the sugar with a couple of tablespoons of jelly or jam to flavor the pancakes.
2. Sprinkle fruit onto the pancake as the first side cooks. Flip and finish cooking.
3. Roll up the pancake and fill with whatever you feel like stuffing in it. Whipped cream and fruit, peanut butter and honey, coconut jam and butter, Nutella …

 
Yes, I make talking pancakes.

 
Apparently, I’m going to have to explain the whole “hot cakes” concept to these clowns.

 
This is curry chicken. More specifically, Trinidadian chicken curry. Even more specifically, my husband Tom’s Trinidadian chicken curry. Last week’s version, to be exact.

 
There are as many different versions of curry in Trinidad as there are individual cooks in those islands. I’m serious. Each one has his or her own method, and some guard their secrets so closely that they’ll season their meat the night before, far from prying eyes, and then feign a hearing impediment the next day, when asked for their recipe.

 
During the early years of our marriage, Tom was definitely not as forthcoming with his curry secrets. He’d stand over his pot, stirring (or, as they say in Trinidad, “turning the pot”), and he’d sneak glances to check where I was before throwing some extra spice in. If I came anywhere near the stove, he’d position himself right between the pot and my line of sight. I’m telling you: for Trinidadians, curry is serious business.

 
Then, I started this blog. And I invited him to contribute, not just with his travels (I still have a few more installments to post for his most recent trip), but also with cooking. And just like that, all it took was a well-timed, “honey, I bet people would really enjoy learning how to make Trinidadian-style curry,” and off he was to his laptop to type out a recipe for me.

 
Who knew blogging had that kind of power?

 
(Of course, little did he know that when I said “people,” I meant the six or seven people who read my blog. Hi, Ma!)

 
As varied as Trinidadian curry versions are, a few things remain constant:

• Always wash the meat very well. Tom always washes the meat in lime juice or vinegar.
• Season the meat well and let it sit in the seasonings long enough to flavor the meat. Use any combination of herbs and seasonings you want. The base that we use always includes cilantro (preferably culantro if we have it), scallions, garlic, and some fresh scotch bonnet pepper (or any other hot pepper). Salt the meat liberally.
• Cook the curry into a paste before throwing the meat in. Trinidadian curry is a mix of ground raw spices, so it needs to be cooked.

 
Yes, we use that much seasoning for the meat. Believe me, it makes the finished dish so flavorful. And we add turmeric (the yellow powder above) to Trinidadian curry, both for its subtle flavor and for color. The curry that Tom buys there is a strong blend that doesn’t contain much turmeric.

 
This is what the curry slurry looks like. It’s just the curry mix with some water. This is what we’ll be cooking down to a paste. The cooking of the curry is, for me, the trickiest part of the dish, so I assembled this little collage so you’ll know what to expect if you do try to make this. Only when the curry has cooked down to a thick, gritty paste do you throw in the seasoned meat.

 
Stir the meat around. You’ll notice some liquid in there, and you want to cook that down. Once the pot is almost dry again, add enough water to help create a sauce, and continue simmering the chicken.

 
And that’s pretty much it! The hardest part is over, and now you just cook the chicken until it’s done. Adjusting is easy, too. If the curry is too salty, add sliced tomatoes. If it’s too bland, just continue reducing the sauce. Too overpowering? You can try adding coconut milk to round it out, and end up with a different version that’s still really, really good.

 
I have to say that I was never a big fan of curry, but Tom’s cooking has converted me.

 
And now, before my husband changes his mind and decides to become secretive again about his recipe, here it is in all its glory.

 
—————————

Curry Chicken alla Tom

 
1 chicken, about 3-4 pounds cut up into small pieces (or just chicken legs, chicken thighs, or even chicken breast)
2 rounded tablespoons Trinidadian curry powder
2 teaspoons turmeric powder
6-8 sprigs of cilantro
8 cloves garlic
2-3 scallions, or you can use half of an onion
1 tomato
½ scotch bonnet pepper, or you can substitute 1 jalapeno pepper or ½ teaspoon cracked black pepper (adjust to taste)
1 teaspoon yellow mustard (use any type)
2 teaspoons salt (adjust to taste, but make sure the chicken is seasoned well)
½ medium onion
4 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 whole lime, used to wash the chicken

 
Cut chicken into small pieces (if you don’t mind larger pieces, you could leave a leg or a thigh as one piece). The size is really not critical—it is just a matter of how your family prefers to eat chicken.

Remove all skin and fat, wash under running water. Squeeze a fresh lime onto the chicken and stir it around for a while in a bowl, allowing the lime to cover all the chicken parts. Then let it sit for about 3 minutes before rinsing thoroughly. Drain all the water out. Pat the chicken dry.

In a small chopper, place cilantro, garlic, scallions (or half an onion), pepper (adjust according to your tolerance for heat), and tomato. Chop thoroughly. Add these to the chicken along with the mustard, salt and black pepper. Mix thoroughly and allow the chicken to marinate in the seasonings for at least 2 hours.

After the chicken has marinated, mix curry powder and turmeric in a small bowl with 3/4 cup water until completely dissolved.

In a skillet large enough to contain all the chicken without crowding, heat oil. Pour the curry slurry into the oil. This is not the time to attend to anything else. You want to keep stirring the curry slurry and allowing it to cook without burning for about 4-5 minutes on medium low heat. Keep scraping the bottom so nothing sticks. If the curry mixture burns, it will taste bitter. If the curry mixture seems to be getting too dry, add tablespoonfuls of water as needed.

Eventually you would see the oil bubbling through the curry mixture, and the curry will have become a thick paste. This is time to add the rest of the onions (sliced). Allow the onions to soften, then add the chicken. Turn the heat up a bit, and stir the chicken around to coat all the pieces with the curry mixture.

Cook half-covered for about 5 minutes, then stir everything in the pot, checking for burning. We need to allow the initial moisture to burn off. If the chicken seems to be burning, turn down the heat and add 2 cups of water, mix together and allow to cook. Once the mixture is bubbling, turn heat down a bit, cover and cook for another 10 minutes, checking and stirring regularly every 3-5 minutes. After that time, check again. Taste for salt and pepper, adjust to taste.

Allow chicken to finish cooking. Add water, if necessary, to create a little sauce. The amount of sauce should come up to about a third of the height of the chicken.

Serve over jasmine rice. To eat it the traditional Trini way, grab pieces of chicken with your fingers and enjoy.