About Peter

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So far Peter has created 3 blog entries.

Bacon & Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies {Gluten-Free}

To say you don’t like cookies, would be like saying you don’t like happiness. Or puppies. Or air to breathe. Sure, there’s probably a variety of cookie you may avoid due to preference, allergies, or dietary restrictions – but who the heck doesn’t like the idea of a cookie?

I LOVE cookies.When I was young, we used to buy a big tub of cookie dough at Costco, which my brother and I would attack with a spoon (salmonella be damned!). I used to take a to-go box from my college cafeteria, and fill the entire thing with fresh-baked cookies. I’d go so far as to say that most of life’s problems can be calmed with a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk (or almond milk in the case of my early-30’s, late-onset lactose intolerance). There’s a great scene in the film Stranger Than Fiction that covers this idea.

Somehow I am not obese.


Ribs and How to Rub Them | {Three Hour Sweet & Spicy Ribs}

That handsome Dutchman that I call my husband is taking over today. He is going to rub the heck out of some ribs and show you just how easy it can be! Let’s get to some rib-rubbin’. Delicious. Take it away, Peter. 

There’s something very American about ribs. There’s something very Dutch about my family. As such, there wasn’t much crossover between the two and I grew up on a generally rib-free diet (that consisted more of chocolate and cheese than animal parts). This absence of barbecue (outside of simple things like hamburgers) made the whole concept of roasting and smoking meats intimidating.
To put things in perspective, the Dutch are traditionally known for two kinds of food: pancakes and fries (pannekoeken and frites). Not necessarily together, though I can’t promise I’ve never walked down this indulgent path. And through years of historical entanglement, the Dutch have close ties to Indonesia. Thus our dinner table was covered in Nasi Goreng and Atjar Tjampoer, or otherwise with hagelslaag (chocolate sprinkles on toast). […]

The Whiskey Sour | How To Combat Awkward

Hey, Friends! Let me introduce you to the peanut butter to my jelly, the spaghetti to my meatball, the polar bear to my top hat! This is Peter. He is my husband. He usually sits idly by eating my recipes and humoring me by laughing at my jokes. Today he wants to talk to you about booze. Take it away, Pete…

I didn’t grow up drinking hard alcohol. To be clear, I also didn’t grow up (from childhood) drinking. I’d probably be surlier and have more scars. When I started drinking, it was generally beer that went down my gullet, probably due to the Dutch blood pumping through my veins.

It wasn’t until I met my wife’s parents for the first time that I really acquired a taste for something more refined. Sure I’d downed some watered-down vodka tonics and dabbled with gin in college. I even insulted an old, Danish family-friend by suggesting his 30-year old Scotch tasted like rum (I was all of seventeen at the time). In essence, my alcoholic reference shelf was stocked with beer until my mid-twenties.

Gina first introduced me to her parents far before any standard of social norm or traditional scheduling. We’re talking about three to four weeks after our first date. And this wasn’t a matter of “hey, my parents are in town would you like to come to dinner?” Rather, this was “hey, I’m 400 miles from home and I’m sitting awkwardly across from your imposing, Italian father in their beautiful home.” […]