Deconstructed. The word makes me wince. Think of how many Deconstructed Somethings you’ve seen floating around Pinterest and Instagram. Many of them are designed to side-step technical difficulty (re: Sushi Bowls), which I don’t have a problem with. Not everyone has the deft hand or equipment required to recreate a favorite dish at home. No, what I have a problem with is the deconstructed dishes that act like they’re moving the ball forward. The ones that come with the snobbishness of supposed innovation. Ugh! Get over yo’self!
Today’s Eggplant Parm Grilled Cheese should only be attempted on a rainy, miserable day. You know, a day when you simply can’t weather the weather (Ugh! I’m terrible). I mean, smooshing fried goodness into a gooey cheese-riddle sandwich is not the kind of behavior you can justify on a daily basis. No, this sandwich should be reserved for smash-the-glass style emergencies. It should be applied when the sky looks set to destroy you, your pant legs are soaked, and your mood is so low it’s in your shoes. This sandwich has the ability to restore your faith in humanity. It has the power to make you enjoy the sting in your frosty cheeks and fingers. It has the capacity to make you love inclement weather just because it feels so good to escape it. Yes, this Eggplant Parm Grilled Cheese is *that* powerful, so it’s best to respect it.
Once upon a time, I worked in a giant office building with a food court in the basement. And in that food court, there was a purveyor of wraps and salads designed to appeal to the starved-for-time, money-to-burn, health conscious yuppie. Among the merchant’s various offerings was a line of collard green wraps. Every time I would pass these wraps I would shake my head. To me, these “wraps” were proof that the gluten-free movement had officially jumped the shark. A few years and one career change later, here we are with Chicken Collard Wraps in our midst. And collard wraps of my own making, no less.
You guys! Summer is here and I am ecstatic! I’ve been in a state of euphoria for the past two days, which is a good thing and a bad thing. It’s a good thing because, you know, it’s euphoric. It’s a bad thing because I constantly have to remind myself that I can’t sit in the sun and get day drunk for the next two months – it’s very disappointing. I don’t think I will ever get over the buzz kill that is adulting in the summertime. But I can soothe my inner sprinkler-loving child with these Bourbon Butterscotch Ice Cream Sandwiches. Okay, the bourbon is more for adult Susan than child Susan if you want to split hairs.