Last Night’s Dinner

Flank steak crusted in ancho and chipotle chiles

Mango salsa

Yellow rice with corriander

Corn on the cob roasted with chili-lime butter


On the up side, I think everything came out very well.  You can check with Troy for a second opinion.  On the down side, searing and broiling the flank steak filled my apartment with the smoke of burning chile powder, which carries the heat of the chiles with it and can choke you to death.


11 Responses to “Last Night’s Dinner”

  1. blue girl Says:

    BG’s Fri night meal: Frozen Weight Watcher’s and two pieces of pita!


  2. Res Publica Says:

    lol poor baby. If you were closer, you could come over and I’d feed you a proper friday night dinner.

  3. blue girl Says:

    Unfortunately, i’ve had too many proper means as of late, hence the frozen Weight Watchers.

    You know me, Res. I’m a tad short. Short stack, I think you wrote once.

    Us shorties gotta watch the weight.


  4. midniter Says:

    Awwwww, Blue. We love you, short stack.

    And dinner was amazing, as usual. I admit to being skeptical of the mango salsa, but when I tried it, the sweetness of the mango combined with the heat of the flank steak made for a very nice combination.

  5. almostinfamous Says:

    mango salsa is thehandiwork of the DEVIL


  6. blue girl Says:


    Please do a post on what it’s like to watch Res cook a meal. Do you get to observe him while he running around in an apron? Does he get stressed? Does he talk to the food while he’s cooking it? Does he swear a lot?

    Do Tell All!

    Inquiring minds want to know…:)

  7. Res Publica Says:

    Perhaps they do, but I know where midniter lives, and I possess any number of blunt objects. Just sayin’.

  8. Res Publica Says:

    And anyway, Midniter wouldn’t know, because he’s always LATE.

    Here’s what it’s like: My kitchen is crazy hot when the oven’s on, so I’m sweating. My kitchen is small, so there’s not a lot of running around involved, but I do move fast. Fast enough that most people find it hard to help me cook. And yes, I talk to the food. And myself. I don’t think I swear any more in the kitchen than I do anywhere else, but that’s not saying much. Being in the kitchen makes me happy, but I am pretty serious when I cook.

    Oh, and my back hurts. My back has always hurt in the kitchen, since I was a teenager. It’s because I live in a world where everything is built for people who are 5’6″, and I am 6’1″. Someday I will have a custom-built kitchen where the counters are 2 or 3 inches higher than standard counters, so I can stand up straight and not constantly have backpain.

  9. Res Publica Says:

    Oh, and my apron is a huge stain caused by red gel-paste food coloring (acquired making icing for a certain bakeoff that shall remain nameless, because Blue Girl cheated in it), so it looks like I just got done butchering my enemies or something, which is pretty cool.

  10. blue girl Says:

    looks like I just got done butchering my enemies or something, which is pretty cool.


    I totally knew you talked to your food.

    Kitchens are built for short stacks! Hooray for my side!

    My old kitchen was tiny and had one — I repeat — one — drawer that opened up into the side of the refrigerator.

  11. midniter Says:

    He sweats like a roasted pig in the kitchen…that about sums it up. But everything is always incredible. He could totally put Martha Stewart to shame.

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