Every Day I’m Trufflin’

So, Mr. Ahi Tuna Man and I have now been dating a few months, so we’ll be spending Christmas Eve together, cooking stuff, and I will be forcing him to watch my dumb Christmas musicals, and…

*dramatic pause*

I will be meeting his mother.

*insert screams of terror here*

It’s not that I don’t WANT to meet his mother. I mean, I’m sure she’s a very nice lady, seeing as how she produced such a fine young gentleman (albeit a fogetter of lemons); However, I don’t do well with10612952_10154919530205551_2279490739761308396_n mothers, or with family members in general, particularly ones that don’t drink much and I am unable to make them like me by just getting them intoxicated. I mean, what the hell else do I have? I suppose there’s always my charming personality. And, my secret weapon: You Put Your Toffee In My Chocolate! Truffles.

These suckers are seriously stupidly easy to make, but holy shit, they are chocolate ganache melty deliciousness, and they happen to appear pretty impressive in a lovely ‘Hey Mr. Ahi Tuna Man’s Mom, please like me’ suck up gift basket.


Let’s hope these work. Pray for me.

You Put Your Toffee In My Chocolate! Truffles

Prep time AND cooking time: Ridiculously fast. Like, 15 minutes. I told you, stupidly easy.


  • 10 ounces dark chocolate (I just used a bag of Ghiradelli dark chocolate chips. And only ate 2. Or 3. Or 6. Whatever.)
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
  • 1 bag Heath toffee bits, smashed until they’re little and you can roll truffles in them. Know what I mean? Teeny tiny toffee tidbits. Say that 10 times fast.
  • 1 – 2 teaspoons sea salt
  1. Throw chocolate chips into a medium-sized bowl. Try not to eat them all.
  2. Dump your cream and butter into a small saucepan over low heat on the stove. Let the cream/butter simmer just until it starts to boil, then remove from heat.
  3. Pour the hot cream (That sounds kinda dirty, I know.) over your chocolate chips, and let it sit a minute or so until the chocolate starts screaming, “I’M MELTING!!!”. Or until you see it start melting. Whichever comes first. Stir until it’s a delicious-looking bowl of smooth chocolate that you want to put your face in.
  4. Chill in the fridge for at least 5 hours.
  5. Have a couple drinks. Take a nap. Watch some porn. Do some laundry. Take a shower. Do whatever it is you do for 5 hours.
  6. After 5 hours, it’s time to roll some chocolate balls! It’s easiest to do this if you have a melon baller. If you don’t, then I dunno what to tell you. Go find one. Haha! Or I suppose you could just use regular spoons, but it’ll be much more difficult to get them round-like. I prefer the baller route. So, scoop out some chocolate with your baller and put it on a plate or something. Don’t shape it into a ball just yet- we’ll do that later.
  7. After you’ve balled all the balls you can ball and they’re all sitting there nicely on a plate, you can use your hands to shape them into perfect chocolate orbs. Helpful hint: You may want to keep some frozen veggies or something handy to cool your hands down in between chocolate shaping, because hands are hot, and chocolate is melty. I like to give some frozen peas a good squeeze in between rounds to cool my hot hands a little.
  8. Mix the Heath bits and sea salt together in a bowl. Take your perfect chocolate balls and roll ’em and roll ’em in the Heath pieces until they’re all coated and pretty.
  9. Store in an airtight container in the fridge, but they’re best eaten at room temp because they’re sorta gooey and stuff that way.
  10. Hope that Mr. Ahi Tuna Man’s mom likes them.

Side note: You don’t have to use Heath pieces, I just really like them. You can get creative and coat your truffles with cocoa, or crushed peppermints, or nuts, or sprinkles, or smooshed-up Red Hots, or pretzel bits, or… or… Whoa. There’s too many potential coatings. I just blew my own mind.

Gotta go.



I Feel Like Chicken Tonight (featuring guest blogger, Buddy)

Well, I haven’t cooked anything blog-worthy the past few days, unless you count opening a can of tuna and tossing a bag of steamed veggies in the microwave (It takes skill. Shut up.), and tonight… Well… Tonight, I came home from work to this:

This is NOT a happy Buddy face. See, he’s pissed. He’s all “Who the hell’s this Mr. Ahi Tuna Man, Mom?!?! HUH??? Do you give HIM baths and clean under his balls?!? DO YOU?! WHY DON’T YOU EVER COOK FOR ME ANY MORE, YOU CHEATING SLUT?!?”. He may be cute, but he gets a little combative when he’s angry. Seriously. When he’s out of hand like this, there’s only one thing left to do:

The recipe/non-recipe for I Feel LIke Chicken Jerky Tonight, as written by Buddy. Ok, I took dictation. He’s limited by his lack of thumbs. And he’s too short to reach the keyboard.

(Pretend Buddy is talking. He sounds a little like James Earl Jones combined with Kermit.)

1. I look adorable and beg for chicken jerky, like this:



1977120_10154806857625551_3877370805238828601_n3. Holy shit. Here it comes. I can’t wait! OMG It’s getting closer to my face! *drool*drool*drool*drool*

1016207_10154806857570551_2392837814245437254_n4. RAWR! Next time make it snappy, woman, or I’ll take off the hand.


I can’t show you the rest, guys. It’s horrific. The brutality. The carnage.

R.I.P, little chicken jerky.


You’re Kale-in’ Me, Smalls (aka Just For The Kale Of It Pizza)

The past couple of weeks, Mr. Ahi Tuna Man (refer to The Birth Of A Food Blog Baby) and I have taken a mild interest in making our own pizzas. And by ‘mild interest’, I mean ‘frighteningly obsessed’. It all started with a food porn picture of an Apple Bacon Gorgonzola Pizza that he sent me. Yum, right? So I was all, “We could totally make that!”, but I was really thinking to myself, “The one time I attempted pizza crust from scratch I ended up feeding it to the ducks, and immediately thereafter was shunned by the duck community.”. However, the promise of an amazing pizza crust recipe from him had me feeling pretty confident. As it turns out, it wasn’t nearly as difficult as I’d imagined. In my mind, I sort of pictured me covered in flour and yeast, like a bad ‘I Love Lucy’ episode. But, happily, I pulled that shit off. Like a boss. You can do it, too. I promise. This is totally Pizza Crust For Dummies down below.


Now, let me explain something about flour here. My initial crust attempts 10411330_10154799206635551_4560581146858676753_nincluded 1 cup of all-purpose, and 2 cups of cake flour; However, upon doing further research, I discovered a fancy-schmancy Italian flour that supposedly makes super crackery/bubbly/chewy crusts. It’s called 00 Flour. It’s like Secret Agent Man flour. I’d never heard of it before, but found it at my local Italian grocery store. So for this pizza in this here blog, I used 3 cups of 00 Secret Agent Man Flour. Both crusts were pretty damn delicious. Crunchy on the edges with a nice pleasant chewiness towards the center. I did good. However, I am going to keep experimenting until I achieve pizza crust perfection. Mark. My. Words. Any pizza crust tips would be greatly appreciated. I’m no Master Chef. Help a broad out.10407049_10154799205920551_5659363561392826852_n

Anyway, we’ve also recently become very happily acquainted with kale. I’ve always been a little scared of kale. It doesn’t look very appealing, all green and leafy and intimidating. However, I was feeling a little nutty one day and decided to try some in salad form, and it did not offend my tastebuds whatsoever. In fact, it made me a little happy. It’s also totally healthy and full of fiber. I’m looking out for your digestive health here. You are welcome.

So I knew I wanted to throw some kale on this pizza, and it seemed like 150143_10154799204655551_5331264969881821428_nsome hot sweet Italian sausage and some salty smoky asiago cheese mixed with some creamy fresh mozzarella would be a nice combo. And it was. Had Mr. Ahi Tuna Man not been there, and had I not been trying to maintain some semblance of being lady-like and dainty (we’re still at the beginning dating stage where I still need to try to be sorta cute), I may have shoved my face directly into it. It’s totally natural. I should probably mention that I am a white pizza girl. There is a time and place for tomato sauce, but most of the time, I prefer to go sauceless. I’m a whore like that.

1511900_10154799204535551_305022219173206488_nSo here you go, folks! Your recipe/non-recipe for Just For The Kale of It Pizza

Prep time: I dunno. The dough’s gotta rise for at least an hour and a half, so do NOT start this shit hungry.

Cooking time: Meh, 9 – 11 minutes or so, depending how thick/thin you go. You have to just watch it. I like my crust thin and super-duper crispy, but if that’s not your thing, take it out earlier. Whatevs.

Tools needed:

  • Stand mixer w/dough hook (It would be a giant pain in the ass by hand.)
  • Pizza stone (I suppose a normal pizza pan would work, but the stone is a pretty kickass thing to have.)
  • Rolling pin (For rolling, rolling, rolling.)
  • Pastry brush (Just for brushing olive oil on the crust. You could probably just use your hands. We’re all friends here.)
  • Pizza pan or giant cookie sheet or something (To throw the pizza on after you take it out of the oven. I’ll explain later.)



  • 1 cup warm water
  • 1 teaspoon sugar
  • 1 packet active dry yeast (which is about a tablespoon)
  • 3 cups of flour (Like I said up there, screw around with your flours. Mix ‘em up. Get crazy.)
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • Cornmeal, just for dusting stuff so it doesn’t get all sticky and messy


  • Olive oil
  • Freshly grated mozzarella
  • Freshly grated asiago
  • Hot sweet Italian sausage (I cooked mine first, and sliced it into cute little rounds. But you can make your sausage your own way. Like BK.)
  • Fresh kale, torn into pieces, stems removed (Some people blanch this crap before putting it on the pizza, but I don’t see why. Raw worked delightfully.)

1. First, you put the lime in the coconut… Wait, that’s not right. What you really do is put a packet o’ yeast in a cup of warm water with a teaspoon of sugar, and dissolve that crap for about 5 minutes or so until it kinda looks like a gross yeast latte.

2. Then, toss 3 cups of flour and a teaspoon of salt in a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook. If you are like myself, you will first use the dough hook to momentarily pretend like you are Captain Hook, which is totally cool and not weird at all.

3. Once the water/yeast is all foamy-like, turn your mixer on (I usually start at about a 2 speed, and crank it up to 3 or 4 as I go), and SLOWLY pour the water in. Let it incorporate verrrryyyyy sloooowwwwwly, like a freight train you’re stuck at when you have to pee really bad. Soon, it should start forming a cute little ball and pulling away from the sides. Once that happens, dump your ball into a bowl covered in olive oil and throw a kitchen towel over it so it can take an hour and a half nap and rise. Like Jesus.

4. Once It Is Risen, take it out, punch it down so it’s not all obnoxiously fluffy, and divide it into two. Yes, this makes two pizza crusts. So you can use both balls and make two pizzas here, or use just one ball, and save the other ball for fun later.

5. Throw some cornmeal down on a clean, flat surface (Like your countertop. I don’t recommend the floor.) and roll out the dough to your desired thickness. I do a combo of hand stretching and rolling pin rolling. It’s all very technical.

6. Preheat your oven to super hot, like 500 degrees. Stick your pizza stone in the preheated oven for about 15 minutes or so to preheat it.

7. Build that pizza! No need to bake the crust first. Just throw some cornmeal on the pizza stone, toss the raw crust on, brush that baby with oil, and have at it. I went like this with my pizza: Kale, asiago, kale, mozzarella, kale, asiago, sausage. But this is your pizza. Do it to it, baby.

8. Put your pizza baby in the oven for about 9 minutes or so. Take it out before fire ensues. I recommend not being drunk while it’s cooking. You lose all track of time. Not that I would know anything about this.

9. Once done, take it out of the oven, and remove the pizza to a pizza pan or something, otherwise it’ll keep cooking on the stone, and we don’t want a burnt pizza baby.

10.   Let it cool for 2 or 3 minutes, bada-boom bada-bing, slice it up, and make your belly happy.



Side note: I should never be put in charge of grating anything. Exhibit A.