Oh, dear. In case any of you are still around to wonder, there have been extenuating circumstances in the life of yours truly that have made it increasingly difficult to keep up appearances in these parts. I hope you'll forgive my absence as I start in on a much-needed spring break and try to get things back on track around here.
First order of business: a new food adventure.
I was recently made aware of the phenomenon of Southern cooking known as boiled (which, if you want to be authentic about it, should be pronounced "bald") peanuts, a phrase that had never passed my Yankee ears until a few weeks ago. Lo and behold, boiled peanuts are evidently so popular that they warrant their own Wikipedia entry. I had no idea.
Over a game of dominoes the other night, one particular southerner with a bag of raw peanuts on his kitchen shelf decided it was time to have a go at boiling his own. I was lucky enough to bear witness. I can't say there was much of a recipe involved, but the idea here is to heavily salt and season a very large pot of water and then boil the peanuts in their shells until they've turned purple and very, very soft.
This particular pot of water contained a healthy dose of sea salt and Old Bay, as well as a liberal handful of dried chilli peppers. Once the water came to a boil, in went the peanuts, and there they stayed for a little over two hours. The water boiled down a lot, so some had to be added back in every once in a while. After frequent testing once the peanuts had reached the two-hour mark, they finally turned the requisite shade of pale purple and squished between our fingers if we weren't careful enough popping open the shells (what a wonderful sound).
Word on the street is that boiled peanuts should be eaten warm, and if you're feeling particularly hardcore, you can eat them whole, shell and all. Any leftovers should be stored in the fridge to prevent slime.
And so begins my return to the blogosphere. More to come, I promise.
