Simple Measure

Happy Cinco de Mayo, everyone. Before you reach for your Corona or Modelo today, I’d like to introduce you to Rogue’s Chipotle Ale.

A fitting beer for a Mexican celebration of any kind, this ale is brewed with real chipotle peppers. It goes down smooth and smoky – then smacks your tongue with some real heat.

Jared and I became fans on a winter excursion to the famed Frontera Grill. We liked it so much we couldn’t help stopping by a store on the way home to grab another two bottles.

Amazing with chocolate, the Chipotle Ale is the perfect accompaniment to any Mexican feast you might be whipping up. But don’t ditch the Corona just yet — this beer kindles some spicy flames if you sip on this alone for a whole night.

Salud!

Sometimes I look at my food processor in wonder. I’m mostly just amazed that I could have gone SO long without one. Those pre-processor days were dark ones. A fancy recipe would catch my eye and I’d always get as far as dreaming up the shopping list — until the limitations of my kitchen equipment brought me back down to earth.

Trust me, you only have to make red pepper sauce by forcing the ingredients through your garlic press once to know it’s best to steer clear of recipes with “blending”, “pureeing” or “liquefying” in the instructions.
Investing in kitchenware just wasn’t a priority in my college years. Or in a lot of my post-college years, for that matter.

There I am, fresh from graduation, moving into a brand new apartment. There’s me and my brand new roommate, slowly realizing our culinary supplies amounted to one dull knife, a dozen coffee mugs and the stove’s counter top — which recklessly served as a cutting board.

Things improved incrementally, and hey, we got a new reason to celebrate with every new spatula and wooden spoon acquisition.

But moving to Chicago landed Jared and I in another bleak kitchen situation. In my packing frenzy I lost all common sense and mercilessly whittled our belongings down to a meager collection consisting of: (2) plates (2) glasses (2) forks (2) spoons (2) knives and a pot. We ate a LOT of bread and cheese.

Then last year Jared’s coworker had a food processor to get off his hands — and suddenly we were the proud owners of a behemoth of a machine.

It’s heavy. It sounds like a lawn mower. It only knows one speed: good and processed. But I don’t know what I’d do without it. The salsas, the sauces, the soups — everything seems better after a whirl in that machine. And now, there’s smoothies.

I’d never tried making a smoothie before this weekend. But I had a bizarre hankering for beets and blueberries, and the only logical way to marry them was a zap in the food processor.

The results were interesting, and VERY purple. This isn’t a super-fruity drink by any stretch. Just a few dabs of honey to take the edge off the beets.

You could tinker with it to make it a little sweeter — perhaps cutting down the beets and upping the blueberry content. We also made it with silken tofu and a splash of vanilla yogurt, but I suspect using all vanilla yogurt would make it tastier.

As our first adventure with smoothies, we enjoyed it. You couldn’t say it wasn’t a healthy way to start the day.

Blueberry-Beet Smoothie

Makes about four 12 oz glasses

2 cups steamed baby beets, chopped (OK, I cheated a little and went with the pre-steamed beets from the grocery store. A lot faster when you don’t have time to wait around 45 minutes for your breakfast.)

1 pkg (about 12 oz) frozen blueberries

1 pkg Nasoya silken tofu,

6 oz vanilla yogurt (if substituting yogurt for tofu, use 20 oz vanilla yogurt total)

3 Tbs honey

1 cup rice milk (you could substitute soymilk)

Smoothies couldn’t be easier to make. Add ingredients to the food processor. Pulse until, well, everything’s smooth. There you go! My food processor could only handle this in two batches, so I needed to divide up the ingredients.

The nice part about using frozen berries was that the smoothie was cold to drink, straight from the processor. Sounds weird, but if you’re craving a shot of veggies and fruit before you run out the door, this drink will do the job.

It was a busy weekend. Revelers descended on the city, eager to gaze at the green river and gleefully down pint after pint of questionably colored beer.

While downtown churned with parade watchers, my neighborhood was blissfully quiet. Nope, not a shamrock or green plastic leprechaun hat in sight.

Phew. The peace was something to be thankful for, since Jereme and I had to buckle down and crank out some copy for a local non-profit.

We’ve got a deadline and a website to fill — the kind of project that calls for some serious fuel. Time to break out the French press and my own little bag of black gold: Vermont Coffee Company’s Dark blend.

I got this little import as reward for a cat-sitting stint awhile back. Returning from a trip home to Vermont, my friend presented me with a stash of my favorite beans, so thoughtfully tucked away in his carry-on bag.

I’ll admit, I sniffed out the surprise the minute I walked into the room. That rich aroma is a dead giveaway — so strong that one bag will make your apartment smell like a coffeehouse for days.

This is by far my favorite brew of those I encountered in Vermont — and believe me, I tried ‘em all. When Megan and I journeyed back to Maine, we’d always make an early morning stop by the Co-op to grab a couple steamy cups and a bag of the beans to take with us.

No surprise, Vermont Coffee Co. was a hit at home. Our stepfather is also a BIG coffee fanatic. In fact, it’s hard to imagine him without a mug in hand, or at least one resting precariously on the floor of his pickup truck as he bounces down the dirt road to our house. Once he tried a cup of this blend, we didn’t make another trip home to Maine without a bag or two in tow.

Back in Chicago, and sipping a mug of Vermont Coffee Co. for the first time in a year and a half, I felt like I was catching up with an old friend.

I always drink my coffee black — well, almost always. There are those occasional run ins with brutal gas station or diner joe needing the forgiveness of a little cream and sugar. But I’d never disrespect a blend this good with the white stuff. Roastmaster Paul Ralston isn’t kidding around when he says this coffee is meant for people “who like to brew it STRONG.”

Dark and powerfully robust, this coffee is almost magically smooth, drinkable to the end with no hint of bitterness.

And with a friend like this in my corner over the busy weekend, it was no trouble getting the brain fired up and the copy flowing.