Category Archives: Food Musings

Recipes from Editors and their Musings on food and life. It’s fun.

I8tonite: Turkey & Sweet Potato Hash and Becoming an Arizonian

Coconino National Forest: Credit National Park Service
Coconino National Forest: Credit National Park Service

I’m an official resident of Arizona today. Changed over my California driver’s license, an anxiety producing event. I find anything automobile-related makes my heart feel as if it’s at an Indy 500 speed. While driving in circles trying to listen to Ms. GPS exact DMV’s location – in Arizona, it’s called MVD — it dawned on me, I learned how to drive in Texas from an ex-boyfriend’s father, Cecil, a big-hearted man with a mustache to match. Two years later, I finally passed the test in Santa Fe – because I didn’t in Big Horn — and drove to Los Angeles in my first car at the age of 27. I was just a punk, urban kid who only knew trees in city parks and my idea of wildlife were sewer rats and feral felines.

Coconino National Park Service:
Coconino National Park Service:

Clearly, this area of the world has been good for me. With blue skies, mild weather and stunning other-worldly, seemingly vast landscapes that are located only in the American Southwest, it’s an ideal place for rejuvenation. This time, I’ve come looking for a respite. The first was a six-month sojourn from New York City to Santa Fe. Then it was game on in Los Angeles, where it was roller coaster life– all of my making — which didn’t stop for the next 20 years.  It’s what I thought life was supposed to be about, lots of dramas. As I get older, I find I want things to change. I know I’m not the same person I was five years ago. Or ten or twenty. Nor do I wish to be.

It was hard to let go of that license. It’s hard to alter what you think you already know. For me that’s the key, I think I know something or someone, I find out I don’t – especially me. I think it’s why so many people don’t do it. We want to sit and complain about our misery but aren’t willing to work our ways out of it. No matter what happens, I’m glad I moved to Arizona.

Turkey and Sweet Potato Country Hash:

Leftover Turkey and Sweet Potato Hash
Leftover Turkey and Sweet Potato Hash

Hash is re-using leftovers as in turkey hash after Thanksgiving. Or roast beef, duck, or chicken. It’s such a simple thing to make, but I needed to find the right recipe.  Finally, I found one I adapted from Fine Cooking Magazine, which meant par-boiling the potatoes, either sweet or white. I liked this because it meant there wasn’t the extra step of roasting the tubers and then sautéing. I could do everything in one skillet, preferably a cast-iron one. By using a cast iron skillet, I get an excellent browning and crust that I want on the finish.

We are going to need:

  • Your leftover meats: chicken, duck (yum!), roast beef, turkey, or sausage. Venison would be excellent as well. Picked clean, no bones and cut into bite-size pieces.
  • One large sweet potato, peeled and cut into cubes of about 1 inch or so.
  • One red onion
  • One green, red or yellow pepper.
  • Two cloves of minced garlic.
  • Fresh herbs such as thyme, rosemary, sage, and parsley.
  • Butter, wine or stock. If you don’t have these, water is great too. It just adds a little more flavor, but never mind – this is a homey dish that can be cheffed-up, hence the wine or stock

Cubed up all the potatoes as uniformly as possible about an inch — if you’re using a large sweet potato, peel it – and remember to make sure to keep the skins on for the white. Throw the potatoes in a large skillet, preferably cast iron. (It makes it feel Western. HA!) Fill the pan halfway with wine, stock or water, perhaps a mixture of both. Cover. Cook until al dente. You don’t want the spuds cooked all the way through.

While the Idahos are cooking, let’s chop up the onion and the peppers.  Keeping everything at about one inch wide. By this time, the potatoes should be just about done – 10, 15 minutes. Drain the potatoes. Wipe out the pan. Place back on hot burner. Throw in a couple of tablespoons of butter. Melt. Add the potatoes and veggies. Stir. Saute. Add minced garlic, the herbs of your choosing and the leftovers. Add a little more stock, water or wine. Just a splash to help steam, reheat and moisten. Press gently down with a spatula. We want a browned crust on the bottom. Cook for about 5 minutes. Stir. Press down. Cook for another five. Stir. Is it brown enough? If not, stir some more, pressing gently again. Top with fried, scrambled or poached eggs. Awesomeness!

The End. Go Eat.

i8tonite: A Road Trip with My Mother, Baked Sweet Potatoes for Thanksgiving

As I do every year, I picked my mother up for Thanksgiving from her San Bernardino home. She will stay with us for a couple of days but instead of Los Angeles, the drive is from Phoenix, a round-trip excursion through the Sonoran desert. We will laugh, and I will tease her about her hearing as she’s asked me the same question three times, which I’ve answered three times.

I will finally state:  “I think we need to get batteries for your hearing aids.”

She’ll roll her eyes in amusement and swat at me, laughing in annoyance, “Brian! You know I don’t wear hearing aids.”

I respond, “Exactly.”

She’s aging and frankly, so am I; these car journeys won’t be happening forever. My mother gave me a love of road trips. We took them often from Duarte, California, where I was born to wherever she wanted to go. Disneyland. Pasadena. San Diego. Santa Monica. The best voyage was when my parents divorced. She wanted her maternal family closer – they lived in South Carolina — and her best friend lived in Baltimore. The ink was barely dry on the papers, and she packed up the red Pontiac Firebird with the vinyl top.  It was game on, a car trip through the southern half of the United States – East Coast bound.

She drove that car – a single woman and a kid — through Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas (two days), all the way to South Carolina in the early seventies. The AM radio was blaring Helen Reddy, Tony Orlando and Dawn, Vicki Lawrence, and The Carpenters. Wolfman Jack’s raspy baritone kept the truckers company and single family station wagons happy on long stretches of nothing. I recall a preacher man who drove his van around the dusty highways, solely to assist stranded drivers with broken cars. After fixing our ruined timing belt, his payment was joining him in prayer. My mother’s not a religious woman, but she believes in God. She was incredibly grateful for his help, so we held hands on the side of the two-lane desert highway and prayed.

This time, as we crossed the Colorado River, the border between California and Arizona, I was driving. She was the passenger, and the music was coming from an iTouch playing singalong Cher, Dusty Springfield, America and maybe Florence and The Machine. I threw in Elvis for my mom. The road has expanded from one car in each direction to a six-lane thoroughfare, at times almost eight – half going east, the others going west.  I’ve rented a car, so I don’t have to worry about breaking down. I will call the rental company and be on the road in no-time.

Yes, it will be a good holiday.

Baked Sweet Potatoes (No recipe) (“It’s not Thanksgiving without them,” my mother’s declares)

Find the largest sweet potatoes you can grab. Wash and then dry thoroughly. Determine where the top of the tuber is and poke a line along the length of the skin. Then do the same with the center width (You should have a cross.) Rub with vegetable oil, wrapping in aluminum foil. Bake for about an hour or until done. Serve with crème fraiche (my favorite) or butter (my mother’s favorite). Throw some chives and serve.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The End. Go Eat.

My Stepmother’s Filipino Chicken Adobo

My Stepmother’s Filipino Chicken was a popular post. I’m sort of rethinking how often I write these as I’m finding three times a week is a bit much.  Tell me your thoughts. 

I called my father to wish him a happy birthday. He’s hard of hearing now, so I’m screaming into the phone. He still doesn’t understand English very well. As a Filipino, who was in the U.S. Navy, he never quite assimilated. He did try, though. He married a Caucasian woman and then that went belly up. (I was a by-product of that first union.)

On his second try at marriage, he gave up attempting to be “white” and married a former Filipino beauty queen, Myrna. They had two sons. I lived with them in their Virginia Beach ranch home for a short while in my teens. It was the first time that I ate well. One of the great memories I have of being with him and his family, Myrna or her mother, Grandma, was cooking Filipino food: chicken adobo, pancit, lumpia, or guisantes (simmered pork and peas) for a family dinner. My father never used utensils when eating. He ate only with his hands and fingers; somehow, food never dropped onto on his clothes.

There was to be a party at the house. I think it was a birthday party, but I don’t recall. The morning before, about a dozen of my Dad’s friends, my tios or uncles – depending on whom you ask — all speaking Tagalog (the native dialect of the Philippines), came over and began digging a hole into the backyard. Into that pit, about four feet deep and eight feet wide, lined with banana leaves, a bonfire was started. By early afternoon the next day, and about three or four cases of Pabst Blue Ribbon later, the men were cooking up a whole pig over blistering coals.  Between slugs of beer, a discussion of basketball and smoking cigarettes, they took turns slowly rotating the carcass; occasionally, throwing water onto the pig, creating a delicious billow of white smoke. Its purpose was to create a crispy skin and succulent roasted meat.

Their wives – my stepmother along with aunts and tias, about a dozen women in all — gathered in the kitchen and dining room, rinsed vegetables in pots of cold water. Two ladies to a pot.  Carrots cut into matchsticks, tomatoes diced, and onions chopped. The smell of pig’s blood simmering with Thai chilies was perfuming the house. Sweet. Spicy. Earthy. It mingled with cigarettes and constant chattering.

Sometime around 2 in the afternoon, more friends showed up. No one knocked or rang the bell; they just greeted with hugs and kisses. The elders met on bended knees, and heads bowed. Their folded hands kissed in blessings.


Chicken Adobo (Myrna’s recipe)
Quartered chicken, using only legs and thighs. (I used about 3 lbs of chicken thighs)

For every cup of soy sauce, use a half cup of white vinegar. ( I used two cups of soy sauce and a cup of vinegar. You might want to do a cup and a half of soy sauce.)

Bay leaves. About three of four. (I used four fresh bay leaves but dried is good too.)

Garlic. “…as much as you want,” she says. (I used a whole head).

A quarter teaspoon of whole peppercorns. (Myrna’s instructions, “Throw in peppercorns.”)

Place everything in large pot and bring to boil, about 20 minutes. Cover slightly with the lid not all the way on the pot. When it gets to boil, turn to low heat to simmer, cooking for another 20 minutes but check the chicken and baste with the sauce. Cook until chicken is cooked through, with juices running clear. Serve over rice. Make it fancy with chopped scallions.

Note: I do not know of a Filipino who uses sugar or fries the chicken after it’s been braised.

The End. Go Eat.

i8tonite: Gratitude with a Corn Goat Cheese Savory Pudding

A Facebook “friend” asked that ubiquitous question the other day, “What are you grateful for today?” A lot.

Six years ago, I walked away from a car crash involving three big rigs and nine other cars on California Interstate 5. It was caused by a dust-storm that felt whipped up by Hades himself, near Bakersfield. Three people died. Whether it’s the grace of God or the fates intervening, I removed myself from my car before it exploded. Only seconds before, I sat in the driver’s seat…. breathed a sigh of relief I hadn’t hit the truck in front of me. In the passing of another second and almost on the second inhalation,  a 1975 Dodge pickup plowed into my SUV’s backside turning it into an accordion. To the side, there was a fireball that hurled towards me. Produced by a car driven by a young family man as he rear-ended the truck’s trailer, the one I narrowly avoided had jack-knifed across two lanes.  His exploding engine instantly cremated him, destroyed his vehicle and crafted an explosion pointed towards me from the 18-wheeler’s reserves tanks. There were milliseconds between the collision of automobiles and my ability to open my car door and get out. Had I not – I wouldn’t be in the Sonoran desert, hiking to the top of peaks, eating superb food, receiving kisses from my dogs, and love from Nick. I suffered a minor concussion and two cracked ribs.

After experiencing a trauma of that magnitude, it’s not uncommon for an accident victim to discover their life situations not working anymore.  The next six months after the crash, I implemented changes. I left a toxic relationship which should have ended years before.  I moved back to a city where I had support and love. Items that can never be bought.  I even discovered a new relationship I wasn’t planning on having but am grateful that I’m alive to experience it.

Not one day passes I don’t think about the accident.

This past weekend marks the anniversary of that experience  and the beginning of something new. As someone said to me recently, “You moved to Phoenix because you have risen from the ashes.”

At the end of 2013, former San Jose Mercury food editor, Carolyn Jung published her first cookbook, San Francisco Chef’s Table: Extraordinary Recipes from The City by The Bay (Lyons Press). I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and working with Carolyn over the years.  As a journalist and via her website, she’s been supportive of my clients and their food endeavors. For me, I always think it’s important to recognize the writers who have helped along the way. A journalist’s life can be thankless especially from a public relations perspective.

To support the publishing of her book, I attempted to create a cooking and book-signing experience at a former San Francisco client. Unfortunately, the event never happened because the restaurant closed. I’m doing a little shout out about her book — saying thank you, hoping I can help sell even more cookbooks. I adapted this recipe from one of the many delicious dishes she curated in her cookbook from Bay Area chefs. This particular dish, from the owners/ chefs of Ame, I turned into a one dish casserole.

Goat Cheese Bread PuddingSweet Corn-Goat Cheese Bread Pudding (adapted from Carolyn Jung’s San Francisco Chef’s Table: Extraordinary Recipes from The City by the Bay).



  • 1 whole baguette. Cut into approximately one-inch pieces.
  • 2 tablespoons butter
  • 6 slices bacon, chopped
  • 1 stalk celery, chopped
  • 1 leek, chopped
  • ½ tablespoon sage
  • ½ cup of chicken stock
  • 1 egg
  • 1 cup milk
  • ½ cup of sour cream
  • 2 cups grated Parmesan-Reggiano
  • 6 ounces goat cheese
  • Corn cut from 2 ears.

Let’s make this puppy:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees to toast the croutons. Bake for about 10 minutes until golden brown. Remove from oven but keep the oven on to bake the final product.

In a large skillet, melt the butter and crisp the chopped bacon. Once the bacon has been slightly browned. Add the vegetables and sage. Stir until soft. Stir in the croutons, letting them soak up the fat.

Pour in the chicken stock and allow the bread to become saturated. Season well. Set aside.

In another mixing bowl, combine the milk, egg, sour cream, and cheeses. Mix well. Assemble everything – croutons and wet ingredients including the corn.

Pour everything into a small casserole and place into a larger roasting pan creating a water bath. Pour water until halfway up the side of the casserole dish.  Dot with extra goat cheese and grated cheese.Bake for about 30 minutes until golden. Serve warm.

(Recommendation: If there are leftovers, reheat in the morning and top with poached eggs. Awesome!

The End. Go Eat. 


i8tonite: BBQ Ribs and Four Seasons Scottsdale

20151019_075052Honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m going with it. I created a food blog/website about food, recipes and travel. Writing about people I admire, places I’ve been and food I’ve enjoyed and can share with individuals – hopefully, a takeaway recipe for the reader to cook. That’s it. That’s all I want to do.

At the end of the day, that’s what I’m thinking. Cooking, eating and being with people you love. Three simple things. I worked a wine tasting over the weekend, and I kept thinking to myself, “Who are these people? What stories do they have?” as I plied them with an inexpensive sparkling.

I think the question isn’t so much who they are but who I’m becoming?

I know I’m different than I was five years ago when the dam broke. It was a self-imposed structure that stayed turbulent emotions, eventually needing some navigating. I erected it for survival – we all do it – the edifice kept feelings in-check. Although, like any man-made constructions it cracks, needing a variety of sealants but the façade always breaks down. Once it’s down, erecting a new dam is possible but it will never be the same.

With my journey, the one constant is food and looking for it. Having it, not having it. Will it ever be enough? Am I enough?  I have to remember that I have enough today and all those questions need not apply… if ever again. With my work for i8tonite, my food clients, and other culinary on-line experiences, I was invited with Nick to have an experience at the Four Seasons Scottsdale at Troon North. We ate exceptional food and gawked at the vistas that only Mother Nature could make. From the lobby of the hotel, the view is breathtaking. Undulating mountain ranges blanketed by the blue Arizona skies. The earth’s dusky rose color flecked with prickly cactus and foremost amongst them, the mighty saguaros. Much like the California redwoods, these plants are resilient and massive. Invincible, like The Hulk, with arms reaching out asking for nothing but the elements and solitude. Yep, that was my view this morning. It was enough for today.

I was planning on cooking a delicious dish from Carolyn Jung’s San Francisco Chef’s Table: The City by The Bay (Lyon’s Press, ISBN 978-0-7627-9226-9). Carolyn is one of my favorite food journalists working today I want to support her as she has supported my food and hotel clients over the years.  Unfortunately, the days got away from me, and I wasn’t able to cook. Next week, though. Last week, I made an incredible beet and apple salad from the noted food memoirist and award-winning writer, Kim Sunee, whom I’ve also had the pleasure of knowing and working with over the years. Her book, Mouthful of Stars: A Constellation of Favorite Recipes from My World Travels, is mesmerizing as it trips effortlessly from Asia to Europe to Louisiana. I made her BBQ ribs to accompany last week’s salad to share at a later date. I guess this is the later date. I made it with some small tweaks that I always do to a recipe. It’s delicious and enough for today.


You Will Need (Feeds 3 – 4):

About 9 pounds of Baby Back ribs or pork ribs.


Kim Sunee’s Spicy Tangy Sauce

¾ cup apple cider vinegar

¾ cup Frank’s RedHot Sauce

½ cup of fresh OJ

½ cup of ketchup

Several dashes of Worcestershire sauce

5 cloves of garlic

1 tablespoon New Mexico red chile powder (Sprout’s carries this in bulk.)

1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 ½ teaspoons sea salt


Dry Rub: This is the reason I loved this recipe.

1/3 cup of New Mexico Chile powder

3 tablespoons ground cumin

1 tablespoon coriander

1 teaspoons ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon cayenne pepper


Let’s Make This Puppy:

Preheat the oven 300 degrees and then line baking sheets or low rimmed pans with aluminum foil. While, the oven gets toasty, make the rub in a bowl and combining all the ingredients. Once made, work onto the meat, getting into the fibers. Roast it uncovered for about 2 hours. (You could stop here.)


Place all the ingredients for the barbecue sauce in a medium saucepan. Stir over medium heat for approximately 10 to 15 minutes. Once the ribs have cooked for their first two hours, brush with the sauce and cover tightly in more foil. Bake for another hour and serve with sauce on the side.


The End. Go Eat.



i8tonite: Facebook, Newsletter and Kim Sunee’s Beet & Apple Salad

cropped-cropped-red-plate-with-knife-and-fork-md-logo-temp.pngLast week was busy at i8tonite, my newly deemed on-line lifestyle publication about food. I set up a Facebook page and then started a bi-weekly newsletter focusing on what lies ahead. I was very hesitant to create the Facebook page. The creation made the website seem realer. And that my career in public relations is morphing into an online publication. After years of promoting people to create content, I’m now creating content promoting people and food. I’ve now thrown out the middle man.

Photo by Mike Tungate
Photo by Mike Tungate

As I’m ensconced in mid-life, an age of more realized living — meaning how I want to live instead of just living —  I’m now exploring the United States.  With our move to Phoenix, Nick and I will travel throughout the Southwest, home to  breathtaking saguaros, the Sonoran desert, and red mountains. We are planning trips to Sedona, Tucson, Santa Fé, and Tombstone. (I have always wanted to go to Tombstone, Arizona just to say I’ve been.) Laramie, Cheyenne, Aspen, Denver, the Grand Canyon and Flagstaff are also on the ticket.

At some point, we will travel to Mukwonago, Wisconsin, where Nick was born and raised. It’s a small mid-Western town. You won’t find Kate Moss standing on the corner or a camera crew blocking the sidewalk. I don’t have to worry about the paparazzi or a traffic jam being created by yet another entertainment award show. It’s a significant destination for us because that’s where Nick’s family still resides. As a boy, with his siblings, Nick went ice fishing in the mid-western winters and swam in the lake during the summers.  I’ve never been ice-fishing. The closest I got to ice- fishing was in 1989. It was a New York City wet winter where I “fished” for my Marlboros in the pocket of my Moschino jacket before a Stephen Sprouse fashion show.  I don’t smoke anymore; the late Stephen Sprouse is now considered retro and I don’t know what happened to that Moschino jacket.

With possibly most of my global escapades behind me, I now travel outside the States without ever leaving my kitchen, gratefully letting international flavors take me away. I decided to use Kim Sunee’s “Mouthful of Stars,” an exquisite cookbook hybrid with personal essays throughout. Published in 2014, it’s a beautiful publication containing mouth-watering images with Ms. Sunee’s sublime prose.  The former food editor for the defunct Cottage Living offers her anecdotes about travels to Mexico, Sweden, Paris and her New Orléans home. As much as I would like to go to Sweden, it’s not going to happen before I get to Ecuador, Peru, Mexico or Paris again. I thought I would cook her Swedish Beet and Apple Salad…. just to do a little kitchen traveling before the beginning of my homeland discoveries. (In 2009, Kim also wrote one of my favorite food memoirs Trail of Crumbs: Hunger, Love and the Search for Home.)


The salad is tart and savory with some horseradish heat. I loved the combination with the herbal dill, the crème fraiche richness, the red onion’s bite and sweetness of the beets and apples. Easy to make and very colorful for the holidays.

Swedish Beet and Apple Salad (adapted from Mouthful of Stars, serves 2 – 3 people):

You will need:

  • Two medium-sized beets, cooked (You can find cooked beets in the produce section if you don’t want to make your own.)
  • 1 Granny Smith Apple, coarsely grated.
  • One small red onion, thinly sliced with a mandolin.
  • Tablespoon of chopped and rinsed capers (or more to taste).
  • 1 to 2 tablespoons of fresh horseradish.
  • Tablespoon of chopped dill (or more to taste).
  • Several grinds of white pepper (Black pepper if you don’t have any is fine too).
  • 4 ounces of sour cream or crème fraiche. (Use the crème fraiche if you can find it. Most stores carry it in the fine cheese section. It makes a richer dressing.)
  • 2 to 3 tablespoons of apple cider vinegar.

Let’s make this puppy:

Chopped the cooked beets into ¼ sticks and place in a bowl. Put in the thinly-sliced onions and apple.

In a small bowl and the remaining ingredients: crème, pepper, dill, capers, dill and horseradish. Stir. Add the apple cider to thin out the mixture. Stir until the desired consistency. (If you want a thinner dressing add a drop more vinegar.) Pour over the vegetables and apple, well-coating everything. Chill until ready to serve. Top with dill.

Beet Apple Salad

The End. Go Eat.

I8tonite: Gratineed Cauliflower with Parmigiana -Reggiano

20151003_180219I was in a yet to be opened LA restaurant at a friends and family tryout. It’s  a common practice among well-financed restaurants –  a testing of the waters before media reviews and the paying patrons type of thing.  Invited along with some media, local chefs, restaurant bon vivants and a few Los Angeles gadflies my fellow dining compatriot who was actually the invitee. I was along for the ride. We had met over several bottles of Sonoma Cutrer Chardonnay, Russian River at the Four Seasons Los Angeles years before.  (One of my favorite — I used to drink it like water back in the day.) As we sat there eating the comped food — testing and trying – I was disappointed. I mean, I know it was free – and had I been paying I would have sent some of it back. (The waitstaff was tipped on the bill that we would have been charged.) There was too much sauce on everything, the squid had been broiled too long and the flatbread – which used to be known as pizza — was a blackboard with artisanal toppings.  Seated at the next deuce to us, were the lovely husband and wife team of one my favorite LA eateries. My dining companion, the unnamed couple and I were talking amongst ourselves about how the best food is sometimes the simplest.  It doesn’t always need the sauce or maybe a little less of the herb; perhaps the watermelon radish pesto needs to evolve into something less. As we chatted about how disenchanted with the food we were, the phrase “keep it simple” kept popping up. Matter of fact, the female half – she was the pastry chef — of the cooking couple said, “Always take one thing away.” (Famed fashion designer Coco Chanel said that about dressing but it works for food just as well.)

Simple. It’s something that the famed chefs Alice Waters references in her cookbook, The Art of Simple Food; Cal Peternell’s Twelve Recipes – a series of cooking instructions for his college-going son on the essential twelve recipes – and Marcella Hazan, the Queen of Italian home-cooking who said, “What you keep out is as significant as what you put in.”

I try and apply this to my everyday life now – what I keep out is as significant as I put in.

(October 1 was Ms. Hazan’s second anniversary of her death. I didn’t know her but I’ve cooked from her books often.  This recipe is adapted from her Essentials of Italian Cooking and is dedicated to her.)





  • 1 large head of cauliflower, cut into florets. Keep the rest for a vegetable or chicken stock later on.
  • 1 – 2 grated cups really good parmigiana-reggiano.
  • Half stick of unsalted butter
  • (Optional and my suggestion: A clove or two of garlic, several dashes of red chili flakes and parsley).

Let’s make this puppy:

Preheat an oven to 400 degrees. While that gets nice and toasty, boil a large pot of salted water. Once the H2O it’s roiling and toiling, throw in the cauliflower and cook al dente – about 10 minutes. (It should have a little bit of a bite.) Drain in a colander.

Take a baking dish which will go from oven to table. Using the butter, grease up the dish liberally. Add the florets packing them in tightly. Dot with more butter and cover with the cheese. (This is where I slide in some garlic and sprinkle lightly with the chili flakes. You don’t have to – it just adds a little to the final product.) Place in the oven. Cook for 20 minutes until the cheese is a browned and beautifully crusted.

Chop some fresh parsley, throw on top and serve.

You can also do this with ramekins so you serve individually. That’s up to you….isn’t it amazing what you can do with three ingredients?

The End. Go Eat.