Ok, deep breath. Drum roll please.
At long last, I present you with the Delvious food blog. Sit back and let me tell you the story of the word delvious.
In standard fashion, I embarked on an overly ambitious soup-cooking project last summer. I spent about an hour chopping pounds of miscellaneous vegetables and put them into two large pots to simmer with a few pounds of split peas. In my quest for copious amounts of leftovers, I had overlooked the fact that dried split peas will grow as they cook…a lot. Two pots had to overflow into a third. Fifteen minutes later, three pots became four. Undaunted, I took advantage of the situation to end up with four differently seasoned split pea soups (and enough leftovers in the freezer to feed a small army).
Whatever does this have to do with delvious??? Well, thanks to my chat history, I can now show you the precise origin of delvious.
[Chit chat with my sister, August 7, 2008]
Melissa: but the soups were good?
me: they were! they ended up turning out well despite the mess, all in all i was very pleased
Melissa: haha yeah there was a lot
me: yes crazy, but delvious
Melissa: i like delvious : )
me: ooooh! we made a word
Melissa: it’s pretty legit
This word needed a definition before it was forgotten as a meaningless typo. Always wanting an excuse to bake gluttonous-sugary-buttery treats, the definition almost came to be “devilishly or sinfully delicious.” However, I conceded “deviously or unexpectedly delicious” is a more necessary and somewhat undefined adjective in the food world.
Delvious foods are already everywhere.
I’m not sure whether food trends have been changing in the past year or if I just take more notice with delvious on the tip of my tongue. Either way, there is a heck of a lot of delvious food out there. It can be hard to get dessert without some sea salt sprinkled on top. Now people are using bacon in everything from cookies to fudge to ice cream. French macarons are a particularly versatile canvas for delvious experimentation. And it hardly needs to be said that molecular gastronomy can epitomize delvious flavors and textures.
These things are always described as “interesting” or “unique” or “avant-garde.” Now I’m adding delvious to that list. Spread the word!
And now Delvious is an official food blog.
- I have no culinary training, and to be quite honest I’m not a great cook even though I enjoy it.
- My judgment skills may not be stellar when I try winging something (see above soup story).
- I have little patience for making things look pretty.
- I’m sort of a perfectionist but I’m kind of lazy; I like the reassurance of using recipes but often cut corners and make substitutions.
- I appreciate fancy complex foods, but I also find great enjoyment in simple traditional foods.
- I read way too many food blogs for my own good.
- I like to think delvious will be important for the food industry (someday).
- I’ve told everyone I know and hopefully they’ve told their friends.
So, now what? I want to reach people I do not know. To accomplish this, the Delvious food blog is born.
Every food blog needs pictures to drool over; you’ve probably noticed mine. Soup would have been a more meaningful recipe for Delvious’s first post, but quite frankly I have no idea what actually happened in any of those four pots (dealing with overflow required serious damage control).
But I’ve been keeping tabs on delvious recipes for the past year, and this one was relatively inspiring: Peanut Butter Chip Cake with sauerkraut. How could that be delicious? Even I was not really convinced, so I decided to find out for the sake of Delvious.
Peanut butter seems to go with everything: jelly, bananas, chocolate, caramel, marshmallow fluff, honey, celery, cabbage…pickles even? (I swear people used to eat PB&Pickles sandwiches on the blacktop during elementary school lunchtime.) Who would have thought that we were developing our delvious taste buds when we were eating ants-on-a-log in pre-school? If peanut butter really does goes with everything, then it should go with sauerkraut, right?
Having just moved into my new, albeit tiny, apartment, I pulled out my mom’s old KitchenAid mixer and began adding the ingredients. The batter looked ok. It actually smelled quite delicious. It went into the oven and came out smelling even better. The frosting was edible by the spoonful (I wish I could say it too was delvious by definition, but that was essentially just sugar and peanut butter).
I had some friends over to taste test the cake; I told them it was delvious but refused to disclose the secret ingredient until they had tasted a bite. Based on taste, no one was any wiser that sauerkraut was the delvious twist on an otherwise delicious peanut butter chocolate chip cake. If you try this at home, just be sure to rinse very well. This gets rid of the vinegary-sauerkrauty taste and adds moisture to the cake.
Peanut Butter Sauerkraut Cake
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup butter, room temperature
1/2 cup extra-crunchy, super chunk peanut butter
1 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup sauerkraut, rinsed, well-drained and finely chopped
1/2 cup mini-semi-sweet chocolate chips plus more for sprinkling on top
Salted, dry-roasted peanuts for topping
2 cups powdered sugar
1/3 cup regular peanut butter
2 Tablespoons butter, room temperature
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
6 Tablespoons boiling water
1. In the bowl of a stand mixer or another large bowl, add all the cake ingredients except the chocolate chips. Beat until well blended. Fold in the chocolate chips.
2. Spread mixture in a greased 9 x 13 baking pan. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 to 30 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
3. After the cake has cooled, combine all frosting ingredients in the bowl of a stand mixer and beat until well blended and easy to spread. Frost the cake and sprinkle with mini chocolate chips and peanuts.