the filling station

I've lived in the city for over two years now and I have still not yet made it to Shake Shack. I'm hiding my face behind my hands like a coward as I type this as I realize this is comparable to committing some sort of horrid crime to which I have no excuse for. I just simply haven't had the opportunity, nor made that much effort to attempt the daunting lines. And to be honest, I try and keep my burger intake to a minimum. If I can help it.

So this Sunday, after dragging my once again sick behind back to Connecticut for some R&R and health rejuvenation from Mom, we stopped by the Filling Station: New Canaan's new burger joint that boasts locally grown organic beef and nitrate free hot dogs. If that's something you're looking out for and/or is important. To me? A burger is a burger is a burger. Well, most of the time.

I entered slightly skeptical (but come on, it's what I do). Colds always leave me with a less than hungry appetite and I was certainly not craving a burger. But we crammed ourselves into the tiny place and patiently waited in line. Two cheeseburgers, one fry, and two fountain sodas later, we plopped down in our seats.

Again, I've never indulged in the glorious Shake Shack burger but I imagine the experience is quite similar: a ridiculously soft potato bun (a must for any burger as far as I'm concerned), lightly pressed on a flat top then piled with a thin patty (surprisingly cooked a perfect medium) topped with yellow American, lettuce, tomato, onion, and "special sauce." The kid behind the counter told me it was a Chipotle sauce, but there wasn't a hint of any smokey spiciness in there to be found. I'm convinced he was mistaken.

Regardless, this burger was near perfection. It should be noted that I'm a thin patty burger lover. I'll push a colossal burger aside, it's just not my scene. But The Filling Station's attempt at this comfort food classic was beyond admirable. Crinkle fries too, are sadly not my preferred way to indulge in twice fried carbohydrates, but to be honest, I'm happy to leave those behind in favor of finishing my entire cheeseburger. Because with the whole "I'm not that hungry" thing, I didn't expect to get through half of this bad boy.

Alas, I didn't leave a crumb.

If you're in the area, and in the mood for a slightly sinful little experience, pop by The Filling Station. If you can squeeze yourself in.

The Filling Station
19 South Ave.
New Canaan, CT

to do: kuma inn

Photo courtesy New York Magazine

You might not have much luck stopping by this BYOB Southeast Asian Tapas joint on a weekend night (unless you swing by for a very early dinner) but it's worth putting on the To Do List regardless.This place is consistently packed for good reason. Great food in a relaxed yet casually romantic setting with the option to BYOB. It's like the chupacabra of dining locations in New York City. And, they take reservations! More often than not, most BYOB restaurants are able to slide by with mediocre food (except Mooncake of course) simply because the perk of bypassing a liquor tab far outweighs ambiance and quality of food for a lot of value-driven diners. Can't say that I can easily forgive a joint serving up questionable food just to pop a bottle of my own. Or at least, most of the time.

Kuma Inn is located on the second floor of a building on Ludlow between Rivington and Delancey and has been serving up noteworthy and affordable Filipino small plates. I'm eyeing the steamed p.e.i. mussels in kaffir lime coconut curry, drunken spicy shrimp finished with sake, kalamansi and thai chilies, yellowfin tuna tartare with a rice noodle crisp, and a side of coconut rice. Pop open a bottle of perfectly chilled dry riesling and/or a Sapporo and cheers your dinner date(s) to a well deserved weekend treat.

Kuma Inn

113 Ludlow St.

Cash Only

Menu

'scuse me while i brag

I've been anxiously holding on to these bad boys for MONTHS waiting to unleash them and politely brag on behalf of my mom, designer Ingrid Leess. Behold...her new kitchen. Featured this month on the cover of Kitchens and Baths Magazine (A Woman's Day Special Interest Publication). Go out and get your copy! Now!

There's nothing I can really say other than this is, without a millisecond of hesitation nor ounce of doubt, the most beautiful kitchen I have ever laid my eyes on. It has been many, many, many, many, MANY years in the making, with drawing after drawing after drawing drafted by my uber-talented designer mother. Her eye and ability to see the beauty in nearly anything and everything just absolutely flabbergasts me. How lucky I am to have her, her impeccable sense of style, and this freaking phenomenal kitchen in my life.

You will never, ever again wonder why I so frequently run back home to Connecticut.

I will now shut up and allow you to enjoy these gorgeous photographs, photographed by the equally talented, Aimee Herring.

I mean....REALLY?!?! God, I love you, Mom.

a must have

I do not doubt that you are already quite familiar with the cookbook above. If it's not in your possession, it's in your Mother's and you grew up with the recipes from this paperback classic. The New Basics Cookbook is a kitchen essential. All of the recipes are like elevated comfort food and they never fail to please a crowd. My Mom's go-to for dinner parties was more often than not, the famed Chicken Marbella. A wildly flavorful dish that always ensured happy diners. Topped off with a dessert of her famous (at least in my mind) brownies lovingly dusted with confectioner's sugar and thougtfully decorated with fresh raspberries and needless to say, Ing was easily deemed the hostess with the mostest. Approachable, gourmet comfort food will never cease to impress.

Whenever I'm home, I find myself flipping through New Basics and The Silver Palate for inspiration. Most of the pages splattered from recipe testing, recipes decorated with a five year old's drawings, "Hanna" written above the banana muffin recipe (since they are more popularly known as Hanna Banana Muffins), and the crinkling sound the spine makes when you turn the page. All indications of a book that's been well-loved and has truly shown the test of time.

If you don't already own this gem of a book, I suggest making it part of your cookbook library. I think you too will find yourself reminiscing about your childhood when you flip through the recipes and will be dog-earing page after wonderful page for ideas for your next get together.

weekend dinner party

So how 'bout this weather, huh? I think the entire city of New York has sighed with relief that the snow and blistering cold has been at least temporarily put on hold in lieu of sunny skies and temperatures in the high 50's. (Read: happy, happy, no longer seasonally depressed girl.)

And although the sunshine is supposed to leave us with RAIN come this weekend (serious BOO to that), I figured it'd be best to maintain this chipper attitude by grilling up some burgers with friends and continuing on this spring-forward mentality. Burgers with a Spanish flare and a big ole pitcher of serious sangria, anyone?

Spring Forward (Por Favor)

Turkey Burgers with Smoked Paprika*, Manchego, Avocado, Red Onion, and Garlic-Lime Aioli

Orange and Fennel Salad

Kettle Chips

Red and White Wine Sangria (one of each to please all amigos)
*If you don't have Smoked Paprika, you can use some Chipotle in adobo. Chipotle will certainly pack some heat but in most cases, it's welcome.

For the Turkey Burgers combine ground turkey (I prefer the 93% lean) with a small grated onion, a clove or two of grated garlic, some chopped parsley, a generous sprinkle of smoked paprika (or a spoonful of chipotle), and some salt and pepper. Combine and form into patties. Throw these onto the grill, a grill pan, a regular skillet, or broil 'em in the oven. Whichever proves easiest for you. Top them with some thin slices of Manchego if you can swing it (or cheddar, monterey, american, whatever)

If you can find them, I'd suggest throwing these guys onto some Portuguese rolls (but kaiser rolls would work just as perfectly) with a little bit of lime-garlic aioli (mayo mixed with grated garlic and lemon zest/juice) and topping them with some avocado, red onion, whatever your favorite burger toppings are.

To serve up alongside these burgers, I'm seeing Valencia Oranges, so how about a simple orange and fennel salad? Thinly slice up a bulb or two of fennel, segment a few oranges, add in a few kalamata olives if you'd like and dress simply with a little white balsamic and good olive oil (and salt and pepper). A bag of kettle chips (I prefer Cape Cods!) and you're set with food.

For the sangria, thinly slice an orange and a lemon and dump them into the bottom of a large glass pitcher. Sprinkle about a 1/4 of sugar on top and with the a wooden spoon, gently mash the sugar into the citrus (think lemonade). Pour in about 1/3 cup of triple sec (or cointreau) and fill the pitcher up with red (or white) wine. Add in some thinly sliced green apple along with whatever other fruit and/or berries tickle your fancy. Possibilities are endless.

Pour up the sangria, turn on the Gipsy Kings, and start flipping those burgers. Your friends are in for a serious pseudo warm weather treat. Rain or shine.

dear anthony bourdain...

Some of you might have seen my fired up tweet last night, seen above (if not, follow me @kiirabritt), that I sent out while watching last night's episode of No Reservations. Let's get this out of the way up front: I'm an Anthony Bourdain LOVER. Love the show, love his writing, love his uncensored banter and his I don't give a f*** kind of attitude. Quite frankly, I wish I could get away with some of the stuff he does but alas, I'm far too sweet. ;)

However, last night I found myself becoming increasingly angry and seriously defensive when Bourdain brought up the topic of food bloggers. A category of people he was quick to label as an unfortunate phenomenon of the internet. That we exploit food. That we become so obsessed with what it is we're eating that we forget what the food actually means. Err, whatever that means.

Now, hold the damn phone for a minute, Tony. Correct me if I'm wrong (but omfg am I so unarguably right) does your show not follow you around the world, filming the food you're eating, all the while you explore the culture, find out all the "under the radar" spots and then, dare I say it, exploit them too? You're doing exactly what us food bloggers do but in a slightly different medium. While we may snap a picture, your cameras are still rolling.

Which is why I was so delighted to see this piece today on Gawker, titled, "Anthony Bourdain is a Hypocrite on No Reservations." Please read it here.

This is not going to make me a Bourdain hater nor will I stop watching the show and reading his books. But I think he, and other food-blogger-haters, need to take a step back and freaking chill out. At the end of the day, we're all people who have an undying passion and appreciation for great food.

In other words, we're on the same team. So let's play nice.

balsamic roasted salmon

Today is one of those days when I don't even have time to come up for air. So I will most unfortunately make this brief with a promise for more to come...later!

Salmon is my fish of choice yet one I rarely get to indulge in when I'm footing the bill. But after a quick trip to Whole Foods, I allowed myself a sliver of Norwegian salmon by making a deal with myself: no more extraneous purchases. Which meant whatever was getting served up alongside had to be already in my possession. Except for some fresh herbs of course...

I marinated the salmon for an hour or so in some balsamic, garlic, and olive oil then onto a piece of parchment it went and into a hot oven. I would've broiled it to get some crazy, dark, gorgeous color on it, but quite frankly, I don't trust my broiler. Fifteen minutes at 400 and it was perfect.

As for a side dish, I knew I had some whole wheat, yolk free egg noodles (seek these out! they're by ronzoni and I highly recommend. great source of fiber and you can't taste the difference.) so I threw some into a pot of boiling water then tossed them with a ton of fresh chopped parsley, lemon zest, and a grated clove of garlic. A drizzle of olive oil, a small dollop of lite sour cream, and plenty of salt and pepper and that's done. A quick salad of baby greens dressed with white balsamic vinaigrette was thrown together and my fabulous and I mean fabulous Oscar-watching (and worthy) dinner was complete.

After a much-anticipated trip to Chambers Street Wines, I left with a bottle of this. The label and price both reeled me in but sadly this tasted like extremely watered down Mott's Apple Juice. Pass.

Great tip for when you're cooking for yourself: Instead of dirtying up a bunch of bowls, work directly in whatever container you'll be storing your leftovers in. I used a big tupperware container and made my egg noodles directly in there. Saves you clean-up time in a big way.

And you want to talk about the leftovers? I took the rest of the salmon, flaked it over some baby greens with some sliced avocado and tossed it with some more vinaigrette. Simple, easy, and I'm smiling just thinking about it.

Now, back to tackling my inbox.

when things taste bad

It was hard to commit to posting this. Because when things taste bad, I'm hesitant to share. No need to discuss mediocre, less than perfect bites right? But what good am I as a restaurant "critic" if I recommend everything? If I raved about all? I would no longer be reliable. I would be lying.

And since "tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth" (quote from Sheryl Louise Moller in Eat, Pray, Love) is a favorite quote of mine, and one I think we all would benefit from referencing, I think I'll avoid the whole lying thing all together and be straight up with y'all. Grand Sichuan in Chinatown is not good, my friends. In fact, it's quite bad. I digress.

Saturday could not have been lovelier. Well, maybe Sunday was. But that's neither here nor there. Saturday was gorgeous and the entire day was spent roaming lower Manhattan on a mission/non-mission of sorts. When we hit Spring and Elizabeth, people started to get hungry. "Perfect!" I thought, "we're in a great area for food." But I blanked. As per usual. (When friends ask for a restaurant recommendation in a certain area, I'm able to spit out suggestions within seconds. When I need one for myself, my brain shuts down. Convenient.) So we continued to walk down Bowery, passing by the ridiculously inspiring and exotic Asian produce and seafood stalls, when someone (who shall remain nameless) decided she wanted noodles. We were now on a mission for a noodle bar and/or a Chinatown feast.

While I could not have been less in the mood for Chinese food (I should note I'm never in the mood for Chinese food. Way, way too greasy), I happily agreed for the sake of expanding my horizons and trying a much talked about Chinatown spot: Grand Sichuan. You want to talk about no frills? Look no further. But that's never something that bothers me, in fact, I find it kind of exciting (à la Pam Real Thai). Sadly, this time around that was not the case.

In their defense, I was not my usual hungry self and I abandoned any and all menu decision making. I could not have been less myself in that regard. A seafood noodle soup, pork and chive dumplings, spicy broccoli, and spicy shredded duck with ginger sauce. Everything sounded perfectly fine to me. Until the soup arrived.

I'm a seafood fanatic. Even walking through the seafood stalls in Chinatown, that overwhelmingly pungent smell of fermented fish doesn't bother me. In fact, it kind of excites me. But this soup smelled nothing short of dank. Funky. Stinky. No thank you.

There was nothing wrong with the broccoli. And that along with some white rice was what I filled myself up on. Crunchy, salty, and absolutely spicy. The shredded duck was no where near shredded. It was more like a plate of gelatinous fat and random bones. I'm shaking my head with disappointment just typing this. I kept thinking to myself, when I stared at the sad plate of duck, "how dare they."

The dumplings were fine; nothing out of the ordinary. But if there's any indication of how I really felt about them, let's just say I only ate one. And had to really try to force myself to eat the whole thing. Meh.

But here's the thing: my culinary idol, Ruth Reichl, adores this place. Talks lovingly about their dishes. So I'm willing to admit that perhaps it was a combination of my mood and what we ordered. Maybe. But until I am seated at a table with Ruth, you certainly won't find me rushing back anytime soon.

Sad, right?
Can't win 'em all.

it's pizza day

Photo courtesy Serious Eats

It's no surprise that I often struggle to provide you guys with delicious content come Friday. It must be a combination of my anticipation for the weekend and my feeling like I'm scraping the bottom of my culinary bucket. If "Content is King" then I'd rather say nothing then blab words that lack substance. I'm very much like that in person too. I'm not going to talk just to hear myself talk. I thrive off of rich, inspiring, and witty reciprocal conversation.

Pressure's on ;)

Which is why I'm so thankful for my friends (for a gazillion other reasons than providing me with inspiration). And today, that special person is my friend Sarah, who so thoughtfully suggested I create a sort of bucket list of places I've been dying to try. And specifically, pizza. "Friday," Sarah exclaimed, "is pizza day for a most people."

I can groove with that.

Kesté Pizza and Wine has been on the old To Do List since they opened last March on Bleecker St. A location that's not only particularly convenient for your's truly but one that I pass on my walk home form work; the luring scent of Neapolitan-style pizzas wafting in the air. Pizza is just such a perfect food and an admittedly fun way to dine. Start with a salad to share (I'm thinking the Fresca - a basic arugula salad) and then split two pizzas. The obligatory Margarita for its undeniable simplistic perfection and then something a little more adventurous like the Pizza del Papa (butternut squash cream and imported mozzarella) or the Prosciutto and Arugula (ok, barely adventurous but always a winner). From the looks of the menu, I'm going to take a gander and say that it would be really, really, ridiculously difficult to make any awful decisions when it comes time to order. Just look at these visuals.

Which is why pizza, and really good pizza, is always a win-win choice.

Maybe we'll bump into each other tonight. That is, in the line that will most likely be out the door. But we won't be complaining. Because now we know what's in store.

Keste Pizza and Wine

271 Bleecker St. (between Jones and Cornelia)

weekend dinner party DEBUT

Photo courtesy of Andrew Scrivani for the New York Times

There are two questions with which I get bombarded (willingly and happily) by on a daily basis: restaurant recommendations and "What should I make for ______?" No matter what the occasion and/or dinner guest(s), truth be told, menu planning is one of my favorite things to do. The hypothetical promise of a fabulous meal fills me up with enough inspiration and drive to knock out menu after menu in no time. I get an adrenaline rush. I suppose for someone that's infinitely devoted to fashion, putting together devastatingly perfect outfits (with an unlimited closet of sorts) would yield the same sort of euphoric result. Satisfaction and gratification. It's what makes us all tick.

That said, I thought it would be mutually beneficial (for you and me) if I started pumping out weekend dinner party ideas every Wednedsay, which will give you plenty of time to shop, plan, and prep by Friday, Saturday, or Sunday. And what's better than a night with friends, food and/or a date to look forward to come the weekend? A whole lotta nothing, that's what.

Take-In Night

Gyoza Dumplings with Dipping Sauce

Tsing Tao (or Sapporo or Kirin) Beer

Coconut Braised Beef over Rice with Cilantro

Dry Riesling (recommend: Pacific Rim Dry Riesling)

Mango Sorbet with Mint

As far as the dumplings are concerned, unless you're feeling adventurous and have time to kill and want to make your own, I'm voting frozen all the way. Trader Joe's has a great bag of frozen Thai Shrimp Gyoza Dumplings which I always have in the freezer but almost every grocery store now carries a brand. Asian speciality stores will have a particularly fabulous selection if you can manage to swing by one. You'll also find dumpling sauce there (and in the Asian aisle at the regular grocery store) which I like to supplement with a little bit of chopped fresh scallions. Throw the frozen dumplings into a hot pan with a little bit of a neutral oil and allow them to pick up some good, golden brown color on the bottom. After about 3 or 4 minutes, add in 2 Tbsp. of water, stand back, and throw a lid on top. Allow them to steam for another 2 to 3 minutes and serve while still hot. They're the perfect, easy appetetizer with a cold beer. You'll want to do this just before guests arrive.

The Coconut Braised Beef recipe is by my boy, Mark Bittman of the New York Times. I've had it printed and sitting here at my desk, staring at me, enticing me for far too long. It utilizes a ridiculously affordable cut of meat and turns it into a tender and slightly exotic masterpiece. There are minimal ingredients and it doesn't require much of your attention at all. Throw it together early afternoon and you're set. Done.

Put a pot of rice on 20 minutes before your guests are about to arrive, and then go and prep yourself. When you're taken care of, pop open a Tsing Tao, get working on the dumplings, and excitedly anticipate your friends walking in to the smell of simmering coconut milk, ginger, chilis, scallions, and cilantro; immediately spreading smiles across their faces.

You'll pull it all off effortlessly without a glimmer of doubt. And remember, dessert's waiting patiently in the freezer to be topped with a few fresh leaves of mint.

Cheers, my social butterflies.

spring? is that you?

Do yourself a favor tonight and pick up an orange or two. The sweet, bright, and slightly tangy flavor (and undeniable juicy factor) are just what you're looking for. Especially since, for the time being, we've enjoyed two temperate and gorgeous days in a row. I'm serious. I cut into my orange last night, and the room erupted with "The hills are alive..."

What? Your oranges don't do that?

I supremed (fancy schmancy word for segmented) my orange, thinly sliced some red onion, and gently tossed them with baby greens and white balsamic vinaigrette. With a torn hunk of baguette and some of my Gres des Vosges cheese (I'm still kind of freaking out about this stuff. Pick one up here at Gourmet Library.), a glass of cold, crisp Chilean Sauvignon Blanc, and my Monday didn't feel as much like a Monday.

Sadly, all was nearly ruined after a horrific and deeply disturbing finale of The Bachelor. But I suppose that's neither here nor there.

Or is it?

meet my dad

The following perfectly represents my Dad's personality and philosophy on life: keep it simple. He's a classic, no frills kinda guy and when I popped into town on Sunday to celebrate his Birthday and offered to take him to dinner, his response, to which I was not the least bit surprised, "Well, you haven't been to the diner yet, so we could do that..."

My Dad is a diner man. Always has been, always will. And although I fought it as a little kid, I have now grown to love a good diner. And now have what most would call extraordinarily high expectations when it comes to diner fare.

And so, to the New Canaan Diner we went to celebrate the Pop's big day.

There are three things which I judge a diner on: their Eggs Benedict, their Gyro, and their fountain soda. If that comes as a surprise, then I'd venture as far as to say that you haven't been to enough good diners in your lifetime. But that's my reference point. The new New Canaan Diner is from the same owners of the famed Post Road Diner in Norwalk, CT (holler PRD's all my NCHS'ers) so I knew that ordering a Gyro was not only a safe bet, but a welcomed indulgence. Dad went for the open-faced meatloaf sandwich. And their fountain soda (read: serious Diet Coke fountain soda girl)? Served in a HUGE Coca-Cola glass, perfect syrup to soda water ratio, and ice cubes you only dream of. Happy Birthday, Doug.

And to draw an even clearer picture of my not-so Old Man, dessert was a margarita at Tequila Mockingbird. The only Mexican joint and watering hole in town and right next door to the diner. And we sipped, and talked, and I sought advice, and we laughed and it was the kind of night that makes you happy and blessed to have family that's always only an hour train ride away.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Love, this little one.

meli melo

Yes, it's another ham and cornichons baguette sandwich. Sorry for the redundancy. But for what it's worth, I find these sandwiches come far and few between so any opportunity I get to pounce on one, well, I pounce. And this past Sunday was no different.

Meli Melo is one of my favorite spots in Fairfield County. A tiny little crèperie, soup, salad, and sandwich spot on Greenwich, CT's Greenwich Ave. It's as authentically French as anything you're going to find on this side of the Atlantic and whenever we're in the area, it's a given that we have to pop in. Hungry or otherwise.

A crispy baguette (you know, the kind that leaves you with somewhat welcomed cuts on the roof of your mouth) with one side smeared with sweet butter, the other with serious dijon mustard, thinly sliced country ham, cornichons, and lightly dressed baby greens. There's not a single element of this sandwich that needs tweeking. Perfect every time.

Mom really gilded the lily with the beurre et sucre (butter and sugar for you non-francofiles) crepe for dessert. Quite frankly, it's the only way I like to eat my crepes. Totally simple but unabashedly delicious.

I think it's starting to become increasingly obvious: I think I aspire to be a lady who lunches. Must figure out how to somehow monetize on that concept.

Suggestions welcome.

Meli Melo

362 Greenwich Ave., Greenwich, CT

happy birthday!

To my Dad and Miss Sarah Eydt!

I hope you both had the most fabulous of fabulous days and celebrated it with great food, great drink, and even greater company.

xoxo

low and slow

So I'm once again in the market for a slow cooker. An overwhelming craving for moist, tender, falling off the bone meat finally kinda nipped me in the behind and I'm making arrangements to swing by KMart (blech, blech, blech WHY aren't there Target locations in NYC, WHY?!?) for a totally affordable and petite kitchen friendly slow cooker at some point this week. And why this week? Because I hope to indulge my friends with some spicy shredded beef soft tacos with avocado, cilantro, and red onion by this weekend.

Wanna be friends?

Thought so.

So here's a recipe I'm thinking about playing around with for the beef. I'm a slow-cooker virgin so we'll see how it all works out but I'm thinking that bubbling away in a pot full of aromatics and spices would turn even a soccer cleat into a culinary delight. And with that, here's what we're looking at:

Shredded Beef for Soft Tacos

1 to 1-1/2 lbs. beef brisket, top round, etc.

4 cloves of garlic, minced

2 Tbsp. chili powder

1 medium onion, cut into medium-sized chunks

2 Tbsp. chipotle in adobo

1/2 tsp. salt

water to cover

Add a little bit of olive oil to a screaming hot pan and sear the meat on both sides until a deep, dark, gorgeous crust has formed. Transfer to the slow cooker and add in the garlic, onion, chili powder, chipotle, and salt. Add enough water to cover the meat. Set the slow cooker to low and let it rip for about 8+ hours.

After 8 hours or so, skim off any fat then shred the meat with two forks. I'm going to go out on a limb and say you need not apply much pressure at all to make this hunk of meat shred. A hovering fork and this bad boy will collapse into its own juices and beg to be tucked into a small flour tortilla.

Toss on a few slices of avocado, some shredded iceberg, a few sprigs of cilantro, diced red onion, and a squeeze of lime, take a sinfully zippy bite and cheers a Corona with the guy or gal you've been eyeing. Because you're officially "in."

Needless to say the beauty of a slow cooker (especially for those of us chained to a desk all day and sometimes into night) is you can toss a couple of things into it in the morning, head off to the old 9 to 5 and arrive home to a beyond cozy and homemade masterpiece. This also makes weekend entertaining (or week day for that matter) a breeze. You'll have hours to prep the crib and of course, yourself.

This all goes without saying you can now turn the cheapest cuts of meat into the most delectable which means you can effortlessly entertain on a more than modest budget. Which will certainly lessen the blow of buying a few extra avocados and cervesas. And maybe some mango sorbet for dessert.

Here's the one I'll be picking up. What do you think? Go, slow cookers? I'm thinking, chya.