The braising liquid is garlic, onion, tomato, bay leaf, rosemary and thyme with chicken stock. Then the chicken stewed and stewed, all the day long, and finally I shredded it. (There should be a more elegant past-tense for “shred”. I shrod it.)

I used Anne Burrell’s pasta recipe. She’s so lively and enthusiastic I figured it couldn’t fail. And it didn’t! Hooray!

That’s the fettuccini cut. One of these days I’ll do the spaghetti cut, maybe with a scampi sauce! Stay tuned.

That little  joke is courtesy of the gay dads on Modern Family.

I actually wasn’t that impressed with the final result. I think this is one instance in which it would have been better not to panini. The pear just got sort of unpleasantly warm and grainy, you know?

I mean, obviously I ate it all the way, but just saying for next time.

I spread a thin layer of mayonnaise on the pan-sides of the bread which brown it nicely, and since mayo has a higher burning point than butter (I assume), it’s a more reliable method.

That’s a cheese cutter, by the way. Up above, next to the butter knife. I highly recommend getting one. Perfect slices, every time.

It’s a blend of cheddar and pepper jack cheeses, and it’s even better with a few drops of hot sauce. And/or dunked in some tomato soup.

Post Script: The Melt just opened up in my work-borhood in the Financial District (known to really really cool people as FiDi). I don’t really mind paying $10 for a hot sandwich, soup and chips on a chilly day in San Francisco. Indeed, I shall go there today.

The chicken was grilled on our indoor barbecue, which we’d never attempted before.

The second was made after a fair amount of wine, and was therefore a tad on the sloppy side. It was ricotta, fontinella (I don’t know), mozzarella, fresh tomato slices and whole basil leaves. We went overboard with the ricotta, it’s true.

We cooked the pizzas on a pizza stone, which only cost about $12 at Cost Plus World Market. You’re welcome, Cost Plus World Market.

The dough was purchased from Famous Pizza on Freeport Blvd. in Sac. You, too, are welcome.

My mom has always made a pork loin with cracklings on Christmas Eve. We’re Danish, so the Eve is actually much more exciting than the Day.

And the sides to this feast always include brown sugar glazed new potatoes.

This year there were also brussels sprouts with gorgonzola and hazelnuts.

To make the gravy,  my mom uses a couple of tricks. First, she uses a fat separator (the thing below) to make sure she gets the juices of the roast without the grease. She also pan roasts onions then deglazes the pan and reserves the liquid. Those two things make bomb gravy.

There were lots more things, but I was really busy eating. Taking pictures of the food I’m eating on Christmas Eve is just not a priority for me, I guess.

You might recall that I greatly, and perhaps inappropriately, enjoy Halloumi, a salty and firm Cypriot cheese that gets crusty and melty on the stove or grill. Pair that with sauteed sweet red bell pepper and tangy vinegar for a nice little lunchtime lunch.

A few capers on top would have been perfection. I did not have any. Capers.

I usually like my fried eggs with a runny yolk, but for a breakfast sandwich the yolk is cooked through or else it will leak all over your self.

This is the egg that fell on the ground.

This is the dog that licked it up.

I’m trying something a little bit different today, due to wanting to use up ingredients that are about to expire. Two avocados, four roasted jalepenos, a scoop of Greek yogurt and the juice of two limes makes a sexy little dip.

Stay tuned to see what happens with the dip later tonight. It’s gonna get raunchy.

Update: Ok, it wasn’t that raunchy, and the salmon kind of took over.

I had to fight to split the thing and in the end I tore it apart, UFC style. And now I have a huge bowl full of pumpkin meat. And now everyone I know will be getting at least one loaf of pumpkin bread. And they had better like it.

Bread is the paper of the food industry. You write your sandwich on it*. So it’s important to make a sandwich on good bread or else the whole thing is just kind of ruined, isn’t it?

Normally I would use dijon mustard, but I foolishly bought an off-brand dijon out of cheapness, and it has this terrible side-taste that you can taste while you taste the good dijon taste but it makes the overall taste too awkward. So now I just use the bad dijon in sauces where it plays second fiddle to other, better things.

There’s a life lesson there. Don’t be cheap with your mustard.

*Attributed to Dwight Schrute, paper salesman (Rainn Wilson of The Office)