Enchilada Fiesta!

Last weekend I set out to craft my very own spicy chicken enchiladas, complete with an adobo chili sauce and baked to tender perfection. The pressure was on; Quinn's mother slaves away for hours on her own mole enchiladas that seemed impossible to compete with. After hours of meticulous chopping, stirring, and stuffing, the enchiladas were a resounding success! Dripping with fiery rojo sauce and oozing with cheese, these babies are going on the record as one of my best dishes to date.

With the puffed up pride of my first attempt still fresh in my mind, I suggested to a few friends that we throw a little fiesta with food prepared by yours truly. Five people became ten, and ten became twenty. Suddenly I was tossing fried tortillas and juggling handfuls of cilantro or onion in a cramped, overheated kitchen. My booze-fueled guests snacked on chips and dip as I struggled to maintain my cool. Lo and behold, I somehow pulled it together and made three delicious batches even better than the first!

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Macho Sloppy Joes

If you're looking to wow a hungry man with a messy, delicious meal, look no further than these Sloppy Joes. Packed with beef, slathered in BBQ sauce, and sandwiched between two fluffy onion brioche buns, this recipe is not to be missed.

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Sunday Morning Chocolate Chip Muffins

As a little girl I longed to be a "grown up" for several reasons.

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Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Blondies

I have to thank my friend Erica for inspiring me to make these delicious, light blondies. For those of you who don't know, blondies are a variation on the infamous brownie. Erica made some dreamy funfetti blondies for our friend Jamie's graduation BBQ last weekend, so dreamy that I helped myself to several bites. Sunday night I found myself recovering from a nonstop weekend of beer, burgers, Blonde Redhead at the Echoplex and a mini college reunion. The only cure? A glass (or two) of wine and some quality baking. Craving more of Erica's adorable treats, I set to work on a batch for myself.

Everything is better with peanut butter, and blondies are no exception. Some of my baking tins were still at Jamie's house, so I made my baked goodies in a pie tin. Not the most conducive to evenly cut squares, but delicious nonetheless.

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The "Louis Doesn't Like Red Sauce" Pasta (with Meatballs)

If anyone can understand a kid's qualms about food, it would be me. Terrified of mushrooms and partial to creating a hot dog/Kraft macaroni and cheese mutant, I was a very picky eater. My little brother Louis, out-of-this-world trumpet player and sarcasm whiz, is obviously following in my footsteps. To save him from an all-day Jazz and Blues festival our dad goes to every year, we spent a Sunday lounging in his Playa del Rey apartment utilizing his flat screen, blu-ray player (him) and spacious kitchen (me).

Since Louis and I are twelve years apart (11, 23), I often find myself lamenting his lack of movie education. After suffering through The Diary of a Wimpy Kid II at his request and his required  trumpet practice, I informed the snarky pre-teen that we were going to watch a classic from my childhood: The Fifth Element. As Louis marveled in the special effects ("How can this movie be fifteen years old?!") and sat entranced by the comic stylings of a young and trim Bruce Willis, I set to work on his dinner.

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Healthy Eats: Breakfast For Dinner

Though most days I come home eager to try out some new culinary feat, occasionally a 50 hour work week, June gloom and a good ol' case of the doldrums can weaken my motivation. Last night I came home fully expecting to whip up something as equally uninspiring as my day. I considered my ultimate comfort food, caprese, but noticed my fridge has been rather neglected as of late. As I settled in to make scrambled eggs with some veggies, I had an epiphany. Why not make a frittata? My kitchen, however, is still vastly under-equipped since the big move, so I scoured the shelves for a suitable baking dish. Nestled in the back was my cupcake tin, sullenly neglected for months. I dashed into the living room to inform Quinn of my newest endeavor: mini frittatas!

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Stuff That Sausage! Or, Mushroom Appreciation Day

When I was a little girl, there were several vegetables I would not under any circumstances allow in my food. My parents tried to sneak them in to sauces, chopping up onions, chives or mushrooms into tiny bits in an attempt to dissuade me from my oh-so-healthy diet of macaroni and cheese. No matter how small the diced veggies were, I could taste them a mile away. "This has onion in it!" I would cry angrily, and proceed to pout for the rest of the meal. (What a charmer.) Mostly I've come to realize that my disgust for onions and mushrooms came from the texture ("too crunchy, too rubbery, get it away from me," etc).

This might be why my parents are still shocked to the core whenever I eat onions or mushrooms (often). I will add grilled onions to almost any dish and ever since my adventures grilling with Quinn and Daniel I've been doing the same with mushrooms. I add sliced white mushrooms to my healthier version of Fettuccini Alfredo, recreate my goat cheese & shiitake omelet from John O'Groats, and sautee large portobello caps in the balsamic-dijon marinade Daniel came up with.  The other night I  took my mushroom obsession a step further. As I sipped on some girlie moscato white wine and danced around in my kitchen with Scream 2 on in the background, I made sinfully bites of sheer happiness: stuffed mushrooms.

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Healthy Eats: Fettucini Alfredo with Spinach & Mushroom

 

At dinner the other night, my precocious little brother Louis asked me, "Why does it take adults so long to order?" I thought about that for a moment. When I was his age, the three main meals I accepted without a fuss were mac&cheese, spaghetti with meatballs and chicken tenders. I was not adventurous with my palette, nor did I find any reason to listen to my parents when they told me that I would like something new. I told him that as you get older, your tastes expand and so more items on the menu seem appealing. For example, I am currently addicted to mushrooms of any sort, so I took several minutes debating over my usual pick of pasta (carbonara, bolognese, amatriciana) or grilled veggies. (I ended up with the latter... summer is approaching!)

There is still the little kid in me that craves those rich, fattening meals I adored as a skinny-minnie string bean. (No, really. My family nickname was "Noodle".) Unfortunately, I can't scarf down high-calorie pasta the way I used to. Last night Quinn requested Fettuccini Alfredo for dinner, and I set out to make a lighter version -- while still retaining that abundantly creamy flavor.

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Iron Chef Potluck #1, Volume 4: Jodi's Gnocchi with Spinach & Peas & Ted's Baked Sweet Potato Fries

Jodi and Ted are not only the cutest couple possibly ever, but they both came to the potluck bringing their A-game. Fortunately for our kitchen space, they brought their dishes already prepared, but unfortunately for ME, I don't know exactly how they made them. However, I do know this: they were absolutely divine.

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Carbonara Nirvana (Iron Chef Potluck #1, Volume 3)

There are times when I chide myself for my constant out-pour of affection and appreciation for all things Italian. Sometimes I wonder if the ingredients and cuisine there are in fact better than what we have here in the US, as I often claim. This weekend was not one of those times.

Sure, it can be annoying to hear my undying love for Italian Parmesan or my quest to fine-tune my favorite Roman dishes. But such obsession lends to perfection, and on Saturday I think I finally reached carbonara nirvana.

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A Hearty Saturday Breakfast

After weeks of gloomy weather on the weekends and tauntingly summery work weeks, LA finally got its shit together this weekend. It was 85 degrees in beach-breezy Santa Monica, and I embarked on a relaxing weekend full of movies, retail therapy, endless sunshine and of course, food.

Saturday morning Quinn and I woke up early to peruse the Virginia Park farmer's market a few blocks from my apartment. We sampled fresh strawberries to pick the boldest and sweetest, picked up blood oranges and just-baked chocolate chip muffins, then headed out to breakfast at John O'Groat's.

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Kate Mantilini, Industry Staple

In the few short weeks I’ve been working the “biz”, my stepfather’s restaurant has popped up in conversation several times. The actors I work with often ask me about myself and my background. Inevitably we pass through my public school teacher mother, lawyer father, and reach the point where I admit, “Well, my stepfather’s a chef." "Where?"  "Kate Mantilini!”

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Comfort Me Caprese

 

It’s really the simplest things that get me through the week: an 82 year old Polish patient at my work who bursts into Italian bravado like a robust robin puffing out his chest, or the prospect of my first lobster dinner tonight (keep posted). In terms of culinary comfort, anything Italian will do. Last night was the often underrated caprese.

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