American

Carrie Fisher’n’Chips

Main, Seafood

Oh my goodness – my stomach is in agony! No i’m not into some odd masturbatory technique, I just haven’t stopped laughing for the last 24 hours.

It was such a treat to have Carrie over and reenact a good / funny version of SaTC with the part of New York dutifully played by my kitchen / television.

As you know, we met in rehab and were bonded instantly due the fact we were both poised to be celebrated writers and we had complex relationships with our Hollywood mothers. While my issues stemmed from the fact that I was generally running a scam at their expense, Carrie grew up in the limelight of the Reynolds-Fisher dynasty and drama which gave her a very different childhood … and me a reason to befriend her to get to Debs to form an alliance against Liz.

Obviously she stole two of her husbands from me … but that is another story for another time.

So back on track, I quickly ingratiated myself with the Reynolds-Fishers (often despite Caz’s better judgement) and have been a confidante to Caz ever since, filling each other’s lives with so much joy and laughter.

I can’t say enough about how beautiful and close our friendship is.

As I mentioned and I’m sure Star TrekWars fans would be aware, Caz just wrapped on the latest movie and was completely pooped so relished the opportunity to pull up a seat next to me in our twin recliners and make sassy, forced, attention grabbing statements about the semi-clad swimmers who were dutifully flooding our basements.

To get us in the mood – or to be more accurate, out of it – I whipped up a batch of her favourite / my famous Carrie Fisher’n’Chips.

 

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I assume I’ve mentioned it ad nauseam, if not, I fucking hate seafood. Hate it. I mean, they live in their filth (even though someone rightfully argued that they live in a purifying saline solution). Anyway, Carrie loves a good ole Fish and Chips and given that she just wrapped her time in London, I had to make something to help her acclimate back into the real world.

With that, I went heavy with the chilli, lemon and lime to drown the flavour of fish and served it with crispy chips and a delightful harissa mayo that had me *shudder* liking seafood.

Enjoy!

 

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Carrie Fisher’n’Chips
Serves: 4.

Ingredients
8 pieces of hoki portions (I hate seafood, of course I’m going to buy pre-portioned)
2 eggs, whisked
1 cup plain flour
2 cups panko breadcrumbs
¼ cup flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1 tbsp chilli flakes
zest of one lime
vegetable oil
One serve of the chips from Friza Minnelli … I don’t think the Dolognese would help the chips

Harissa mayo
1 clove of garlic, finely minced
3 tbsp mayonnaise
4 tsp harissa paste
1 ½ tsp rose water

Tartare
1 cup mayonnaise
zest of one lemon
2 tsp capers, drained, finely chopped
2 gherkins, finely chopped
2 tbsp flat-leaf parsley, chopped

Method
Probs make a start on the chips first. Then when they are in the oven, whisk the eggs in a shallow bowl, the flour in a second shallow bowl and combine the breadcrumbs, parsley, chilli and lime in the third shallow bowl with a good whack of salt and pepper.

Dry the hoki pieces with some paper towel. Working piece by piece, coat the fish in the flour, dip in the egg and coat in the crumb. Rest on a plate and continue until they are all sorted.

Heat a good lug of vegetable oil in a large frying pan over medium heat, when it is nice and hot reduce the heat to low and fry two pieces at a time, 4-5 minutes per side. Remove to some paper towel and repeat until the fish is sorted.

Turn off the oven when the chips are done and place the fish on the lower shelf to keep warm while you quickly whip up the sauces … which are super easy. Place all the ingredients in separate bowls – obviously – and stir to combine.

Serve up the fish and chips with a fat dollop of the sauces and the cut up zested citrus. Devour.

 

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Postcards from the force of Hannah and Her Sisters

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Huge news guys!

No, I’m not covering the Olympics despite being crazy sporty. While I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m not there the answer is simple, I am a doctor for the Russian team … so yeah, I’m banned – maybe I’ll be allowed in Tokyo?

Who knows? Either way, I was crazy moist after watching the Opening Ceremony and decided I needed one of my closest gal pals to drop by while we quench our thirst during the first/best week of the competition – aka swimming / scantily-clad-men-a-palooza.

So obviously I reached out to my closest girlfriend, Carrie Fisher and obviously she said yes!

We’ve know each other since meeting in rehab – I was the inspiration behind Alex in Postcards from the Edge. Like the bonds I made in prison, the bonds you make in rehab are for life and Caz and I have always been a loving support for each other.

Caz recently wrapped on the latest Star Wars movie – fun fact, it was our life goal to never see one of those films but Carrie had to sit through one at a premiere so I am riding solo with that goal (relax Star Wars fans, if Carrie asks me to watch them I will … she doesn’t mind) – so was very keen to relax, reconnect and lecherously watch the swim events.

What says you’re my dearest friend / damn I love watching the swim team?!

Picture source: Publicity shot from a Star Wars, obviously I don’t know which one.

 

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Chicken Cacciatori Amos

Main, Poultry

It was such a treat to have Tori drop by – I forgot how deep a connection we share and how robust the conversation is between us.

I first connect with Tori in the mid/late 70s while (I was) turning tricks in the cubicle of a Maryland gay bar.  Torz was working at the club as a singer – under the watchful eye of her father who sadly had no interest in my advances – and was drawn to my creative albeit debauched spirit.

While most Pastors would advise against their children befriending vagrant, attempted hookers Mr. A knew that I was a good guy deep down and supported what has become a four decade friendship.

Obviously there was a period of estrangement, after I lashed out at her for not properly thanking me for helping her rework her breakthrough album Little Earthquakes but thankfully we were able to work through the ish pretty quickly and I continued to be her closest confidante.

I hadn’t seen Torz since getting kicked out of her orchestra concert at the Opera House in 2014 – apparently the skin flute isn’t an instrument that establishment likes you to play to an audience – so I was paranoid she may have been annoyed at me.

Thankfully she wasn’t and we quickly got down to catching up and working on music for her next album. I mean, I am her muse after all, so she couldn’t pass up that opportunity.

But anyway, you know that one of the main reasons she travelled over those 1000 Oceans was to try the flavor sensation that is my Chicken Cacciatori Amos. Which obviously is her favourite meal.

 

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The catch to a good cacc is all in the simmer. Like me in a feud, you want the chicken to sit and stew in its rage until it either boils over in a mess/tabloids dream or softens up and falls off the bone. The meat obviously, you know I wouldn’t fall off.

Enjoy!

 

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Chicken Cacciatori Amos
Serves: 6-8.

Ingredients
2 kg chicken drumsticks and thighs (with bones in … you know I love that)
2 tbsp flour
1 tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 celery sticks, chopped
2 carrots, peeled, chopped
150g pancetta, diced
125g button mushrooms, sliced
100ml white wine
2 x 400g cans diced tomatoes
150ml chicken stock
⅓ cup kalamata olives, pitted
2 bay leaves
2 sprigs fresh rosemary

Method
Dust chicken with flour, heat a lug of oil in a casserole dish – le creuset, obviously – on high and fry the chicken for a couple of minutes each side, in batches. Remove and set aside.

Reduce the heat and sweat the onion, garlic, celery, carrot and pancetta until soft, sweet and the pancetta rendered – a couple of minutes should suffice. Return chicken to the pan and add the mushrooms and wine. Bring to boil and reduce heat to simmer for a couple of minutes, or until the wine has almost evaporated.

Add bay leaves, rosemary, tomatoes and a tin full of water, cover and simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until cooked through. Stir through the olives and devour with a shit tonne of mash.

 

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Catching a sneeze (but not pinning it down)

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

After catching up with Pats last week, I got to thinking about my musical friendships. Add Hillary’s nomination becoming official and I got nostalgic about all of my friendships with empowering women.

With that, I got Tori Amos on the phone to see if she was keen to catch up.

Obviously, she said yes.

What do I make other than cornflakes, for my girl?

Picture source: Andy Sheppard/Redferns.

 

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Peppermint Patti Smith

Dessert, Snack, Sweets

Despite the fact that Pats and I created the punk scene in 70s NYC, a wild and rebellious genre in the time before Giuliani cleaned up the streets – I would say when the world was more dangerous … but let’s be honest, the world is fucked – we’ve always had a calm and almost ethereal nature to our friendship.

Think Cate Blanchett and Julie Anne Smith.

Thank fuck for that because we had some shit we needed to work through and if it was any other friend, we likely would have had a public spat and taken Lohan out of the news cycle.

Pats was hurt that – despite admitting singing with Bono was horrifically wrong – she was always willing to forgive me for making mistakes, I couldn’t give her the same respect.

Obviously my first impulse would normally be to burn my building to the ground and vow to never speak to her again … probably calling for a plague on her house in the process, but that calming force she has over me made me see sense and accept that what she was saying, was the truth.

Plus, I was still walking in the clouds, albeit gingerly, from my catch-up with Bob.

Anyway, we did some poetry slam, worked through the pain I caused by stealing Mapplethorpe, wrote some music and resolved all of our issues – even the disgusting Bono slight – over a tonne of Peppermint Patti Smith.

 

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Like their namesake, these treats are effortless, sweet and oh so cool, while balancing the dark and light to fill you with contentedness.

And let’s be honest, what more can I say? Enjoy!

 

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Peppermint Patti Smith
Makes: 24.

Ingredients
200g condensed milk
1 tbsp mint extract
4 cups icing sugar, sieved plus extra
100g dark chocolate

Method
Combine the condensed milk and mint extract in a bowl and place in a stand mixer on low to combine.

With the mixer still on, slowly and gently, add the icing sugar – I cannot stress slowly and gently enough, lest you want the kitchen to look like a combined party of an 80s model, Hitler and the KKK – and stir until combine.

Dust a bench with icing sugar and knead the mixture until smooth and pliable … like Gumby, or me when trying to woo back Skarsy.

Line a couple of baking sheets with baking paper, remove golf ball sized chunks from the sugary ball and flatten into a disc. Repeat until the ball is gone and refrigerate until set, aka a couple of hours.

When they are almost done, bring a small pot of water to the boil and break the chocolate into a just larger than the saucepan sized glass bowl. Without the bowl touching the water, place/hold it over the heat and gently melt the chocolate until thick and glossy. Leave to cool for about five minutes.

Once cooled, remove the minty discs from the fridge and brush/rub with the chocolate. Once complete, return to the fridge and leave to set for a couple of hours.

Then devour and let the coolness wash over you. U2 are still the worst, but let the cool, calm mint wash the rage away.

 

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U2, Brute?

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

There are so many amazing Patti’s in the world – LuPone, Duke, LaBelle, Hearst … pretty much any Patti you can think of outside of Newton (that harpy knows what she did) – but I would have to say that Patti Smith, hands down, is my favourite.

I met Pats in the 70s while I was playing a highly influential role in starting the NYC punk scene. Despite awakening her then lover Robert Mapplethorpe’s sexuality, Patti and I remained close – I assume as no one else was ever as gifted in the punk scene as we were.

Who knows?

I haven’t seen Pats in almost a year, after she slighted me and sang at a U2 concert with my nemesis Bono (don’t have a name so close to boner if you don’t want me to hit on you, jerk).

Last week I got to thinking and in a rare moment of rational, adult behaviour, I realised that if she was able to forgive me for stealing her lover, I should be able to forgive her for singing with a twat. So I reached out – seriously, I was mature for like a good hour guys – and Patti agreed to drop by and clear the air.

What says sorry I cut off contact after the U2 incident … as it was kind of hypocritical?

Picture source: Unknown.

 

As you can probably tell, we are very social but the fun isn’t only limited to celebrities! You can follow us on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr and Google+.

Bob Harpersimmon Jam

Condiment, Sauce

Have you all recovered from my culinary disaster the other day?

I was feeling very disappointed in myself after Miley went on her way – I mean, how often do I fail (the answer is never, FYI)? Not knowing what to do following my cooking cock-up, I decided to reach out (not around) to my dear friend Bob Harper to help me cheer up and have a culinary win.

And, who am I kidding, he will likely get my cock up, but that’s probably an overshare and you know I have more class than to say something crass like that.

Anyway, I first met Bob after bungling my way off the third season of Australian Biggest Loser. Taking a fellow trainwreck under her wing, Ajay reached out to the recently departed Bobby to see if he could train me privately.

And oh did he train me on that private ranch of his!

As the wise Michael Bolton once said, how can we be lovers if we can’t be friends? Which is proven – in a roundabout kind of way – by the fact our friendship quickly blossomed into a romance until the Feds tracked me down and had me deported.

While my chequered past ruined our romance, we have remained close friends ever since … even since he became a crossfit fan (Survivor Sally is the only person I want to see in knee socks, thank you).

I hadn’t caught up with Bob since his promotion taking over from (another dear friend) Alison Sweeney as the host of TBL, so it was great to hear his take on my frenemy Hatch and discuss his strategy for summer, swimmer selfies. Obviously I was very pushy about him saturating the market – you know I love a tall, pale, strawberry blond!

I always struggle feeding my fit friends, given their penchant for specialty diets, so instead of offering him the wrong thing and having to lie (no Linda McCartney, this is definitely not steak … relax – we’ve all been there, right?), I went with the safer option of my Bob Harpersimmon Jam.

 

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I mean sure, it is pretty much pure sugar … but there is fruit in there, so that counts for something.

And cinnamon is good for you too.

Plus, it is delicious. So enjoy, Bob did …

 

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Bob Harpersimmon Jam
Makes: 500ml.


Ingredients
500ml pulp of ripe persimmons
350g brown sugar
rind of a lemon and juice of ½ lemon
1 cinnamon quill
½ tsp nutmeg
100ml water
1 tsp vanilla extract

Method
Steralise a 500ml capacity jar – I just pour boiling water in a sink and let them sit in there for a bit. This is probably not correct but I don’t have kids so don’t care to learn about steralising bottles. I am yet to get the trots from this method, so I consider this a win?

Combine all the ingredients – except the vanilla – in a heavy bottomed saucepan and bring to the boil over high heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about 15 minutes, or until the jam has thickened slightly.

Remove from the heat, discard cinnamon quill, stir through the vanilla and cool for about 10 minutes.

Pour the jam into the steralised (depending on your definition of steralised) jars, seal tightly with the lid. Flip upside down and all to cool. Flip the jars back up, open the lids to release the air and then close them again. Store in a cool, dark dry place for a month … and then devour.

Obvs keep them refrigerated once open, you hear?

 

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Michael Flatley Bread

Baking, Bread, Side, Snack

While I know this may shock a lot of you but Michael Flatley is the best Irish dancer in the world (Sharon Strzelecki is a character and therefore ineligible).

Well was.

As you know, Flats broke all of his bones or something – surprisingly I wasn’t involved in anything to cause it – and had to hang up the dancing shoes.

I want to call them clogs, I know they aren’t clogs, but I so desperately want them to be clogs. Could you imagine an Irish dance with people wearing clogs – majestic! Like Bootmen, but less boges.

With Flats off his feet, I decided to reach out and surprisingly he took my call despite the years of smearing his name and character in the tabloids.

(And Heather Mills thought she had bad press).

Anyway, Flats said he only took my call as retirement was making him feel nostalgic for the good old days – when hair was big, we were friends and the dance fiery.

It took a while to warm Flats up to me again but it is always hard to ignore my epic, extended apologies … particularly when they involve dance and end with it raining Michael Flatley Bread.

 

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Like our relationship once was, these breads are warm, soft, spicy and comforting. It is bread, need I say anything more? Delicious!

Enjoy!

 

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Michael Flatley Bread
Makes: 8.

Ingredients
3 cups plain flour
2 ⅓ tbsp baking powder
3 cups natural yoghurt
1 tbsp chilli flakes
zest of 1 lime

Method
Mix all the ingredients together in a bowl with a good pinch of salt.

When it comes together, remove to a floured surface and knead for a couple of minutes. Divide the dough into eight pieces and roll into 2mm thick circles.

Place a skillet over medium heat, brush with olive oil and cook each for 2-3 minutes, turning once or until they are golden and crisp. Devour … alone with something. But what ..?

 

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Lord of the dance

Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

Picture it, Eurovision, Ireland, 1994.

After years spent lording the dance world with Toni Basil, Nigel & BonBon *spoiler alert* Lythgoe, Candis Cayne,  and Ms. Abdul, I got wind that the ‘94 Eurovision was looking to host a dance break during the show.

Assuming – as a past Eurovision contestant/songwriter – that I would get the job, I travelled over and was shocked to find Michael Flatley on the floor in my place.

Obviously I flew into a jealous rage, obviously I tried to call in a bomb threat (the police knew I was a serial pest and ignored the obviously fake calls) to stop the performance and obviously I feuded with Flatley for over two decades.

But then I heard that he was having bone issues last year and reached out to make amends, now that he wasn’t a threat to my dance dynasty.

What says sorry for the years of bitterness I’ve thrown your way?

Picture source: AP Photo / Henny Ray Abrams, File.

 

As you can probably tell, we are very social but the fun isn’t only limited to celebrities! You can follow us on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr and Google+.

Chillian AnderCon Queso Dip

Condiment, Dip, Party Food, Snack

Full disclosure, I have never seen an episode of The X-Files.

Yes, I spent a lot of time on the set due to my friendship and subsequent affair with David Duchovny and to gather intel for the script of the porn parody I was working on, which was obviously called The Sex-Files.

Despite being quite busy being … occupied by David and my research, I was able to connect with the delightful, elegant and downright badass Gillian Anderson.

Gills and I connected over our shared Chicago heritage – she was born there, I inspired the role of Velma Kelly – and she quickly took me under her wing, I assume to “fix” me. Clearly she didn’t know who she was dealing with!

Either way, I continued to be an obnoxious, hyper-sexual, alcoholic, junky, felon and G loved me, either in spite of or because of my flaws.

G has been very busy lately, what with The X-Files reboot, her creepy turn in Hannibal and starring in the critically acclaimed The Fall, which she won’t let me near. Yes, Jamie Dornan does have a restraining order out against me, but I know that if she just got me close enough I’d be able to explain why I was caught rubbing his hair while he slept. I mean, it was only the one time after all.

Obvs I would then get a role as Christian’s lover in 50 Shades of Gay … which is what he will demand the sequels become to celebrate both our love and our kinks.

Anyway, it has been ages since we last caught up so I made sure I blocked out some time in her calendar months ago so that we could reconnect and I could work on the Jamie sitch, and nothing says reconnection quite like a big ol’ bowl of Chillian AnderCon Queso Dip.

 

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I make no secret of my unbridled love of cheese: cottage, gouda, roquefort, camembert, pamesan, feta, dick, cheddar, philly, swiss – you name it, I’ll gobbleeat it. Add my other fave, chilli, and you’ve got a warm, thick white liquid that you want to take straight in the mouth … on a chip, right?

Either way, enjoy!

 

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Chillian AnderCon Queso Dip
Serves: 6-8.

Ingredients
225g vintage cheddar cheese
125g colby cheese
100g queso quesadilla
340g  cream cheese
3 fresh tomatoes, chopped
6 spring onions, finely chopped
6 jalapeños, chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
½ cup fresh coriander, chopped
salt and pepper, to taste

Method
Melt cheeses together in a saucepan over low heat.

Stir in all other ingredients.

Devour, warm, with corn chips. Or even better, Tortéa Leoni Chips?

 

As you can probably tell, we are very social but the fun isn’t only limited to celebrities! You can follow us on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Tumblr and Google+.