Dinner last night consisted of koroke, tofu and vegetables. My partner insists on calling these “Parmesan Crusted Fried Mashed Potatoes” but we know that they’re not. They are and can only be koroke. Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto.
Please note my feeble attempts to include salad in both of these shots (“Salad for health!”) as if it will somehow lessen the impact of the deep frying that has occurred here. My man was born in the South and will fry anything that can’t escape. Think Scots and Mars bars. (I am actually fascinated by Southern food and highly recommend that you check out the Southern Foodways blog, it’s well worth a read.)
I’m very pleased that he attempted these because I’ve never tried to make them myself- my mother always made them for me. She tried to show me how to make them once when I was about eight; once I saw how many steps were involved, I wiped the ole mental slate clean and went outside to play with my friend.
These scones were made by my partner. The thoroughly obsessed may recognize this stoneware as W. Dalton Imperial in Tangerine. We found a big set at a stoop sale last weekend and it is my partner’s favorite pattern. I went through a minor aesthetic crisis over having to switch out blue dishes and I’m now almost over it. Almost. Earth tones ignite a lot of California-related ennui inside of me.
Brazilian Fazenda Passeio beans from Case Study coffeehouse here in Portland. Amazing, smooth-ass coffee.