When the market came up short on taleggio, I opted for gouda and swiss, an unreasonable replacement. Nonetheless, I thought it would make a killer prosciutto mac and cheese for my Monday night potluck in Brooklyn Heights.
I woke up at 6:30 Monday morning with an unlikely reserve of energy and started cooking like a wizard. Everything was peachy, except when I tried blending hot cheese sauce without a blender lid. I ran cold water on my scalded arms, then spent 15 minutes scrubbing cheese out of wood paneling.
By nightfall, my early-morning vim and vigor had all but disappeared. I, um, bailed on the potluck. In my defense, it was pouring rain and the party was an hour train ride from my house. I was left with two tons of thick rich meat, cheese and noodles.
I offered some to my co-workers the next day but their pesky eating disorders got in the way. After a few dishes of the stuff, I stored it away in the freezer. I miss SK.
Most of the rest of my groceries went to make this recipe (fried cheese-filled rice balls) for a Friday night “Italian peasant” birthday potluck. It was the most elaborate recipe I have ever made but it came off without a hitch. Well except for the fact that the arancini, Italian for little oranges, came out like silver dollar pancakes instead of little balls. It’s hard to go wrong with fried cheese though. They were a hit at the party.
Oh! Final fail- I told everyone they were vegetarian, not remembering I made the rice in chicken stock. When I spilled the beans later, one die hard veggie almost spit her little orange in my eye.