Katy's Kitchen - Taco Pizza

I don't know if I've mentioned it on the HHH before, but one of my goals that I've had for the last couple of years is to try a new recipe each week. While that doesn't always happen and I'm usually calling for some Thai takeout from the place down the block AT LEAST once a week, there are some Sundays when I get crazy and make like three different things while listening to XRT or a Cubs game on the kitchen radio. I mean, it gets a little embarrassing when the delivery guy dropping off our Pad See Ew recognizes us when we walk by and knows us by name. Lately I haven't been in that kind of cook-up-a-storm Julia Child mood, but last night I tried out a new taco pizza creation. For those of you that live outside of the Midwest, you'll be surprised to hear that taco pizza is an unknown and little seen phenomenon, for as much love as we give it back in Iowa. In all of Chicago, Ben and I have only found it on a menu once in our six years here. Thus, we must create our own...

First, I prepared a ready-to-bake pizza crust (like Pillsbury brand, the kind "out of a can", and yes this is VERY classy) at 400 degrees. Next, I mixed together about 2/3 cup pizza sauce, 2/3 cup taco sauce, and 1/4 cup refried beans until smooth and spread it on the baked crust. This combo sounds weird, but it's the most important part. If you don't like beans, don't worry...you can't really taste them, they just give the sauce a thicker consistency. Then I topped it with about 1 1/2 cups of mozzarella cheese, 3/4 pound of ground beef cooked and seasoned with taco seasoning, sliced black olives, and sliced jalapeno peppers. I popped this in the oven until the cheese was melted and then I topped it with shredded lettuce, chopped tomato, and crushed tortilla chips (Doritos, but regular tortilla chips work too). We served it with optional extra taco sauce, crushed red peppers, and parmesan cheese.

Try it - you be the judge!

Ben's Take: I am often times prone to exaggeration and hyperbole. That said, this pizza will change your life. I immediately proclaimed it to be in my Top 5 Katy recipes, right up there with her enchiladas and coconut shrimp. For those Iowans out there, this is very OP-esque. For the non-Iowans, you probably don't know what taco pizza is. Well, here is your introduction. One taste of this bad boy and you'll cry tears of joy and start speaking in tongues. (Don't worry, that part will eventually pass. Unless you are already fluent in other languages. Or cry a lot.)

I give this recipe with 5 fist pumps out of 5.

Super Hangover

HHH has been in a bit of a creative rut lately, due in part to the winter blahs, Carmella's insistence on an exorbitant 'signing bonus' and most recently, my Super Bowl hangover. I tried all of the usual hangover cures: coffee, cold shower and even hair of the dog (watching the Pro Bowl), but none of them really seemed to work.

The depression is finally fading and I'm starting to appreciate the magical season that the Cardinals had, culminating with their tremendous and unexpected postseason run. It was a great game with a heartbreaking outcome, but it certainly validated both the Cardinals and HHH poster boy, Kurt Warner.

I made a trip down to sunny San Antonio last Saturday to watch the big game with a fellow UNI alum and Warner-phile, my buddy Adam. We had vowed before the playoffs started to watch the Super Bowl together if the Cardinals were one of the contestants. At the time the idea seemed fairly absurd and implausible, but one month later there I was in the 75 degree Texas heat, my winter coat slung over my arm and my gloves stashed away in my carry on.

Football induced heartache aside, I was able to sample some of the local Texas cuisine. Everything really is bigger in Texas (at least food-wise). For lunch on Saturday we ate at Hacienda Los Barrios and my palette was exposed to the famous San Antonio "puffy tacos". What a glorious invention this turned out to be. I ordered a decidedly fru-fru Margarita sampler and tried a 'chelada', which is kind of like the bad-ass older brother of the Bloody Mary. The chelada has a police record, a bit of drug problem and a face tattoo, but it always has your back. Don't let appearances fool you.

On Sunday before the game, we ate at a place called Longhorn Cafe (Angus Burger, Mashed Potatoes) and then on Monday before I left, we stopped by Rudy's BBQ, which was fantastic in spite of my lingering heartache from the night before. You order your meat by the pound and your sides by the pint and then they just hand you a whole loaf of bread to make your sandwiches. Picnic tables, fire pits, brisket, creamed corn and BBQ sauce. Heart attack probable, but well worth it. I thank Adam and Julie for putting up with my antics. The laughter, the tears and the yelling...and that was just during the airport meet up. Next time, Austin is definitely on the agenda.

Speaking of airports, while waiting to board my plane in the SA airport, some old dude sitting next to me in the waiting area just rips ass. He didn't give a S-H-I-T. It was one of the loudest farts I've ever heard and as luck would have it, the smell matched the sound. The guy was totally unfazed . I turned to him and not hiding my disgust, asked, "Are you serious? Wow, just not cool." He just stared at me like I was the a-hole. I got up and moved all my stuff to another section and just shook my head like a disapproving father (I know that head shake well). That fart still haunts me more than the Super Bowl.

That Friday before I left, Katy and I went to my company 'Holiday Party'. What holiday, you ask? I'd like to think that we were celebrating Presidents Day early rather than Christmas late. The festivities took place at Finn McCool's, not exactly the epitome of class and cool, unless you live in Schaumburg and still rock carpenter jeans. But it's a recession dammit, and this place gave us free booze. That cannot be overlooked. Of course, we said we'd just stay there for 'one or two' since I had to board a plane the next morning, but as is usually the case with holiday parties, soon enough co-workers were embarrassing themselves and severely hampering their chances of promotions. It was a fun night but made for a decidedly less fun plane ride for me the next morning.

All in all a eventful weekend, with lots of ups, downs, booze and gut busting food. Now I'm indebted to Katy for a while for letting me go down to San Antonio on a whim, which means that I finally have to figure out how to hang this damn painting that I bought her for Christmas. I'm many things, but 'handy' isn't one of them.* Look for my story of how I ripped down all of our drywall in the coming days.

*For a short while, people called me 'Handy'. This was clearly a play on my last name and was discontinued once people found out that it was making a mockery of handymen everywhere.

The puffy taco. If you only make love to one taco, make it be this one.

The chelada and my Margarita Trio at Hacienda Los Barrios. Blended to boot! Where is my copy of Sex and the City?

Adam and I before the game, in happier times. Adam changed out of his UNI shirt in the third quarter to a Cardinals t-shirts, and I switched from Diet Coke to Corona. For a while it worked, but it was too little, too late.

Katy and I at the Holiday Party at Finn McCools. Drinking to honor our Presidents...except that last one.

Our Favorite Movies of 2008

Yada, yada, yada...we're already a month into 2009 and the Handfelts are just now releasing their highly hyped and little anticipated list of our favorite movies of '08. I'm also just now getting around to writing this, my first post of the year, so that really says something about how successful my New Year's resolutions and other lofty aspirations are going so far.

Ben sees so many movies each month, let alone in an entire year, so I've condensed what could be an infinitely long list of his witty and insightful musings down to his top five. For his full run down (put on your reading glasses), please visit Pomp Culture. Ben uses his birth name, "Chaim Witz".

Before Ben, I rarely went to the movies. Really, any movie until about 2001 I am pretty clueless on. I'll have to rent 'em. Unless you're talking about "Overboard", which I have watched upwards of 50 times (at least). As much as I love "Overboard", I can guarantee that these are better...

Katy's Top Five:

1. Slumdog Millionaire - A great movie with cute little kids, breathtaking visuals, and a colorful Bollywood dance scene at the conclusion. With moments that will make you giggle AND plenty of drama, this movie will appeal to anyone. And then you can get up and dance during the credits. If you don't like it, I don't know if we can be friends anymore. I cried.

2. The Wrestler - Mickey Rourke is incredible in this, which feels more like a documentary than a fictional movie. You might not believe me when I say that you'll care about his character, "Ram" a down-and-out, washed-up professional wrestler who lives in a trailer park and sometimes out of his van (coincidentally, a Dodge Ram). I mean really, pro wrestling? Seriously, Katy? But I promise you will empathize and care about him by the time it's over. I cried. Yes, at a wrestling movie. At least it wasn't Monday Night Raw, or whatever that other wrestling stuff is called.

3. Rachel Getting Married - This movie, while about a wedding, definitely did not have any lame-o girly wedding cheesiness. Again, it really felt more like a documentary than a movie. Are you noticing a theme here? It was just shot unlike anything I've seen before and really showed true and deep emotions that main characters had, which everyone can relate to. I almost cried.

4. Definitely, Maybe - I'll admit, this is not the most intellectual choice. These are my FAVORITE movies, not the best works of art that I've ever seen. This was just such a cute movie and Ben has worked with Abigail Breslin. She is C-U-T-E. Here's the deal, her dad and mom are getting a divorce. One night, Abigail asks her dad how he and her mom met, so he tells her the story of three of his past loves, changing their real names. The cute little girl gets to guess which one is her mom while hopefuly picking out which one would be the best fit for her dad. I love the strong and unique characters that the three "love interest" women play and I enjoy looking at their cute outfits. End of story. I didn't cry, I was too busy laughing at how funny the movie's setting was (Bill Clinton's 1992 campaign headquarters).

5. In Bruges - I'll crib Ben's remarks here. He says, "A darkly comic, sometimes surreal hitman movie hits the mark. Midgets, drinking, bursts of random violence and Colin Farrell cursing. Sounds like most of my dates in college." I couldn't agree more. I love little people, the prospect of drinking a beer in Belgium, Colin Farrell, and occasional cursing. 'Nuff said. No tears, lots of laughs.

Ben's Top Five:

1. The Wrestler - A heart wrenching, bittersweet character study of one man's fall from grace. A tour de force by Mickey Rourke and a chance for him to dust off both his career and those sunglasses that he swiped at the 84' People's Choice Awards.

2. The Dark Knight - More than just a comic book movie, this was an epic crime tale where the hero just happens to wear tights. Nearly everything from the musical score to the use of the Chicago backdrop to the haunting performance by Heath Ledger was pitch perfect.

3. Slumdog Millionaire - Director Danny Boyle creates a rich, accessible fairy tale that leaps off the screen and tugs at the heartstrings. Undeserving of it's 'R' rating, this is the rare indie film that should appeal to nearly everyone.

4. Rachel Getting Married - Great performances and plenty of drama, minus the usual wedding movie cheese. Long, extended camera takes help suck you in and make you feel a part of the happening, ethnic and sometimes pretentious wedding reception. Top shelf liquor, top shelf film.

5. Pineapple Express - Hilarious stoner movie with mass appeal for the non-stoner set. Danny McBride is priceless as 'Red', in what is sure to be a career launching role.

The rest of his Top 10, for those to lazy to click over to Pomp Culture, goes like this:

6. In Bruges
7. Role Models
8. Che
9. Wanted
10. Wall E

Go over there for more of his commentary, Honorable Mention, Worst Movies and lots of other pompous musings.

Latin Flava'

Pictured Above: Arrachera - Grilled skirt steak, rice and beans, sweet red onion, chimichurri sauce.

Pictured Below: Arroz Con Mariscos - Sofrito rice, shrimp, mussels, clams, squid, chorizo, Nemo, peas, chicken, lobster broth.

Not pictured: Alcohol infused libations, chips and guacamole, churros and me rubbing my belly contentedly. All found at Carnivale, 702 W. Fulton. Solid, solid stuff and as we found out today, it reheats well too.

America, Rebooted

This Post Really Ties The Site Together

What an amazing story. The Arizona Cardinals, led by Northern Iowa's finest, Kurt Warner, shock the world by upending the Philadelphia Eagles 32-25 in the NFC Championship, advancing to the big dance in Tampa, Super Bowl 43. This was probably one of my greatest (if not the greatest) sports moments of my illustrious life. I laughed, I cried, I curled up in the fetal position...and all that was just during pre-game. Upwards of 50 text messages were sent to various second parties throughout the game, ranging from, 'That's what I'm talking about!' to 'OMG, preheat the oven to 375. I'm sticking my head in.' Ultimately, the team that Jesus wanted to win prevailed, although by the end of the game I probably looked like Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, even though I hadn't been drinking.

The chemistry between Kurt Warner and Larry Fitzgerald is something that we haven't seen since the heyday of Hall and Oates. Think 'Maneater' Era. 2009 is only a few weeks old and we're about to see a black man sworn in as President of the United States and the Arizona Cardinals in the Superbowl. Yes We Can!

In other Handfelt Happy Hour news, there isn't much to report. The stifling cold, coupled with our lack of motor transportation, has kept us relegated to staying at home, ordering in food and watching a lot of bad television. We did get a new throw rug for the living room. Get excited. An 8x10 furry, charcoal-colored beast of a rug. Throw rugs, much to my chagrin, are not cheap propositions. Luckily, the post-Christmas sale at Crate and Barrel was looking out for the little guy and we were able to return enough soda cans to pull the trigger. In the words of The Dude, it really ties the room together.

We both had MLK Day off today and I met Katy back in our old haunts, Wicker Park, where we hit up a new trendy sandwich shop, Jerry's Sandwiches, for lunch. Philly Cheese Steak for me and a Blackened Chicken with avocado and chipolte chutney for my lady. Pretty solid, though it didn't warrant the big crowd and long wait.

Wicker Park is so yuppified anymore, it's hardly recognizable. For shame indeed. The dive bars and affordable hipster joints are being replaced by 'gastropubs' and designer boutiques. I shake my fist at this so called "progress". Although I really do wish we could kidnap a few of our favorite restaurants and bring them back to Andersonville with us. We have yet to find suitable replacements for Smoke Daddy, Las Palmas, El Barco and Piece Pizza. Hopefully Obama can usher in a new era of good, casual dining options to the Andersonville area.

Hopefully Katy will post something on here soon too. I'm only one man. I can't handle the pressure of keeping afloat a website of this magnitude. Too much more of this and I'll be back to looking like Nicolas Cage in Adaptation.

I Can't Feel My Face

Seriously. Living in the Midwest, I always use the argument to our friends in warmer climates, "no, it's cool, I really like having different seasons". Let's be honest with each other, no I don't. Ok, Fall and Summer perhaps. Spring has it's moments. But winter? You're a damn dirty liar if you say you love winter. You're all hopped on sentimentality, with thoughts of a winter wonderland and chestnuts roasting on an open fire crippling your rational thought. I will not hesitate to body slam you into a snowbank until you admit your folly.

You know what sucks even more? When your heater breaks on the cusp of the season's most terrifying cold spell. That happened to us last weekend...for the second time in 3 years. Unacceptable. We noticed it on Saturday afternoon and it wasn't fixed until Sunday night. Saturday wasn't too bad, for me at least, since I had the adrenaline of another Arizona Cardinals playoff victory coursing through my veins (along with a little rum). Katy, lacking said adrenaline, was not as happy.

Sunday was quite a bit nipplier, with much of the day spent huddled in bed under 5 extra layers of blankets, drinking coffee and crying frozen tears. I offered to take my shirt off to heat things up a little bit, but I was quickly overruled. We watched On Demand episodes of Hell's Kitchen and Rock of Love Bus. We contemplated on the nature of Bret Michael's hair and his rather shocking weight gain. We ordered in gyros for dinner. My idea to light the bed on fire for warmth was overruled. Finally at around 8pm, we heard our landlord downstairs and moments later, the heat kicked on. I celebrated by blasting the Kenny Loggins tune "The Heat is On", and soon the police were called and I was hauled away on one count of indecent exposure and another count of playing Kenny Loggins.

Now if I can just figure out a way to get to work without having to actually go outside.

*Cartoon courtesy of Toothpaste for Dinner.