It's been a while. Let's be real. I've been momma-ing, wife-ing, working, and prepping for the Fall semester to begin. I do believe that my blogging hat has shrunk in proportion to the others recently. Please forgive.
Despite all of this, I've missed you and figured I'd share a recent adventure with you.
I made whole artichokes recently. For evidence, see below.
Oh, so green! Oh, the textures! Oh, so tasty! Aren't they just lovely?
First of all, making whole artichokes is ridiculously easy.
Grab large pan and steamer; fill the pan with a broth/wine concoction a la Tyler Florence. Bring contents to a boil, and thank God for the heavenly scent that fills your home.
Now, steam those chokes! See, it's no big deal.
Here's the part where I'm honest with you because we're friends. We're the type of friends who will let you know when you've got spinach in your teeth or if your hair is doing something funky.
Once I got over the fact that I made a whole artichoke and did my little happy dance around the kitchen making Mr. Mister wonder if I'd lost my mind, I realized that I had no idea how to eat this bulbous, prickly thing.
To the internet, I zoomed!
Then I began the process of peeling/removing leaves. This process took what I imagine to be about seven hundred and forty-two ba-jillion years.
I sighted it: a lightly colored, flower-petal-like texture, which I assumed to be the final layer before the heart of the artichoke. Score!
Despite my glee, I was shocked when the artichoke mercilessly stabbed me in the hand with its seemingly soft, layer of petals. At that moment, I realized that I had just entered into the midst of an epic battle with an unexpected villain. After composing myself, I decide to traverse into the prickly layers and start peeling (carefully this time) yet again.
After I emerged, (bloodied and bruised) I took a bite and came to the realization that...
I should have just bought them in a jar. (sigh)