This weekend is all about movies. Have you already booked the coach and tv just for yourself? Have you prepared cushions, blankets and comfy pjs? Have you bought microwave popcorn bags? Wait a minute... What popcorn?! All film buffs already know that popcorn is old fashioned! What's in fashion now is to prepare food inspired by the movie you're watching. On the huffingtonpost website, Tori Haschka, gives some super yummy suggestions for this year's Oscar nominated films. Take a look:
These martinis pay respect to "The Artist"; the rumored front runner for this year's Best Picture. To start with: the obvious. Like the film, it's black and white. This martini boasts a monochromatic strength that should take us straight back to 1927 Hollywood (and if you wanted to get perfectionist about it, you could try find a glass that fits 1.33:1 Academy perspective).
On to the contents: there's a depressive wallop of gin -- just the thing for when the pace of change makes you want to wallow in a corner. There's a whisper of French in the Cointreau that washes the glass. There's the sting of salt, care of the olives and the flakes on the rim.
So in order to get this Oscars party started, let's all take a big sip and make some noise in honor of this year's greatest novelty, almost-silent film.
On to the contents: there's a depressive wallop of gin -- just the thing for when the pace of change makes you want to wallow in a corner. There's a whisper of French in the Cointreau that washes the glass. There's the sting of salt, care of the olives and the flakes on the rim.
So in order to get this Oscars party started, let's all take a big sip and make some noise in honor of this year's greatest novelty, almost-silent film.
Here's the recipe
2. The Help
Minny Jackson thinks fried chicken just tends to make you feel better about life. So does this chocolate pie. The social structures of 1960s Jackson Mississippi may be difficult for modern audiences to swallow, but this pie isn't. It's a dessert that also plays an important role in the film. Though rest easy, this version has nothing to do with Minny's "terrible awful." It's just sweet, stickily rich and comforting as all get out. If you're a dab hand in the kitchen you can make the crust yourself, or else feel free to buy one from the store. All that's left to do is respectfully meld together the lily hues of condensed milk with cocoa, butter and eggs and hope that everything plays together nicely. Cream on top is optional.
Recipe here
3. Moneyball
These are not baseballs. They're lumps of popcorn, a dusting of Parmesan and a lick of truffle, bound together like an island of misfit toys. It's worth noting; these do not contain real truffle. If you can afford real truffle in your popcorn, you're probably not making snacks. Your butler is.
But since truffle oil still carries a ghost of the truffle's flavor these treats nicely ape Oakland A's General Manager Billy Beane's philosophy of making cheap things work harder for you.
And for those with an oral fixation (Brad Pitt, seen once again on screen continuously chewing, I'm looking at you) they're the perfect snack to tide you over until the main event starts.
One thing to watch; pressing scalding hot balls of honey and oil together into balls can hurt; so you'll want to wear a glove. I went for a Marigold, but you may just have something left over from Little League that you can put back into rotation.
Recipe here.
4. Extremely loud and incredibly close
When life is very hard, sometimes the best answer is cake. This New York deli treat might have come in handy for nine year old Oskar Schell; (explorer, jeweler, inventor, tambourine player and vegan pacifist). He's mourning his Dad who passed when the towers fell. To keep his memory alive he's on a quest across five boroughs to discover the truth about a key that belonged to someone named Black.
Oskar's about to discover that, unlike these cookies, life isn't always black and white. If you're craving some dichotomy in your day you could make like 'The Renter' and tattoo 'yes' and 'no' on your palms. Then again, you could just have it inscribed on a cookie (don't worry Oskar- these ones are vegan friendly).
Oskar's about to discover that, unlike these cookies, life isn't always black and white. If you're craving some dichotomy in your day you could make like 'The Renter' and tattoo 'yes' and 'no' on your palms. Then again, you could just have it inscribed on a cookie (don't worry Oskar- these ones are vegan friendly).
Recipe here
5. Midnight in Paris
Gil (Owen Wilson in the best interpretation of chicken-legged Woody Allen since the man himself) believes there is nowhere finer than Paris, at night, in the rain. He and his fiancée Inez thought they were just hitching along with her parents to the city of light. Instead, when the clock strikes midnight Gil gets whisked away to the Paris of writer's and artist's fantasies.
This Coq au Vin is exactly the kind of dish that could get me out of bed at midnight. The taste takes you straight to Paris. The flavors are soothing enough to heal if you can't scrounge up enough witty banter to play with Hemingway. The texture is as gentle as this plot. And frankly, it's a better use for a bottle of burgundy than bleating about its merits on a balcony with Michael Sheen.
This Coq au Vin is exactly the kind of dish that could get me out of bed at midnight. The taste takes you straight to Paris. The flavors are soothing enough to heal if you can't scrounge up enough witty banter to play with Hemingway. The texture is as gentle as this plot. And frankly, it's a better use for a bottle of burgundy than bleating about its merits on a balcony with Michael Sheen.
Recipe here
6. Hugo
A story about an orphan boy who lives in the clocks in Paris' Gare Montparnasse station in 1930 and the magic of cinema. This Boursin soufflé does not stand in for Hugo because a baguette with Boursin cheese is the classic picnic to take on a train.
It does not stand in for Hugo because of the resemblance between a baguette speared soufflé and the film's celebration of George Melies' Man in the Moon with a rocket in his eye.
Nor because the rise of a proper soufflé is an action best captured by 3D technology.
It's more about the alchemy that happens when you combine the right things; here it's the levity of egg whites and a little bit of cheese. It's about the importance of timing, in a train station, a dish and a life. It's about not giving up hope if something flops. And it's about knowing how much gooey cheesiness you can get your audience to swallow. Scorsese got it right. This soufflé does too.
It does not stand in for Hugo because of the resemblance between a baguette speared soufflé and the film's celebration of George Melies' Man in the Moon with a rocket in his eye.
Nor because the rise of a proper soufflé is an action best captured by 3D technology.
It's more about the alchemy that happens when you combine the right things; here it's the levity of egg whites and a little bit of cheese. It's about the importance of timing, in a train station, a dish and a life. It's about not giving up hope if something flops. And it's about knowing how much gooey cheesiness you can get your audience to swallow. Scorsese got it right. This soufflé does too.
Recipe here
7. The Descendants
Matt King is just trying to keep his head above water, what with his tempestuous daughters and coma-bound wife. As he's keen to point out to us, it might look like heaven in Hawaii, but the tips and turns of life are just as rough as elsewhere. This archipelago of cucumber slices and diced fish gives us the taste of paradise, without having to get on a plane. It's a version of poke; the classic Hawaiian dish found in most pupus (snacks usually eaten while moonily looking at a sunset).
Like the emotions generated by "The Descendants," here the protein is raw. There's also plenty of salt from the soy sauce, a good stand in for the tears you'll shed while watching George Clooney ugly-run in boat shoes.
Like the emotions generated by "The Descendants," here the protein is raw. There's also plenty of salt from the soy sauce, a good stand in for the tears you'll shed while watching George Clooney ugly-run in boat shoes.
Recipe here
8. Tree of Life
Where does life begin and end? Where is mercy? Are they eating mince for dinner again? These are some of the questions that dog Terrence Malick's loosely plotted family drama/examination of our place in the universe. For some, the appeal lies in the early cameos of supernova's and dinosaurs. For others, it's how fetchingly Brad Pitt's profile is lit. And for a few of us disbelievers, the true appeal in the film lies in the fact that its natural food pairing is a Scotch Egg.
Not just any Scotch eggs, but a metaphoric one to boot. An enigma and a riddle bound together; this is a chicken-wrapped egg. Nobody's really sure in the grand scheme of things which one came first, but when making these you need to tend to the eggs first; soft boiling to maintain the innocence of the yolk. They're then coated in a thyme speckled, pulverized mix of chicken. Then like many things you'll find in the film's setting of suburban Texas, they're breaded and fried.
If you've got the timing right the yolk should ooze like a star burst across the plate when cleaved open. If not, you're still going to be eating a delicious snack -- and unlike the film, consuming this won't chew up 139 minutes of your life.
Not just any Scotch eggs, but a metaphoric one to boot. An enigma and a riddle bound together; this is a chicken-wrapped egg. Nobody's really sure in the grand scheme of things which one came first, but when making these you need to tend to the eggs first; soft boiling to maintain the innocence of the yolk. They're then coated in a thyme speckled, pulverized mix of chicken. Then like many things you'll find in the film's setting of suburban Texas, they're breaded and fried.
If you've got the timing right the yolk should ooze like a star burst across the plate when cleaved open. If not, you're still going to be eating a delicious snack -- and unlike the film, consuming this won't chew up 139 minutes of your life.
Recipe here
9. War Horse
To be sure, there wasn't a lot of cake in the trenches of World War 1. And there certainly weren't many treats for the horses. This cake celebrates the highs and the lows of Stephen Spielberg's War Horse. In it you'll find the apple which Albert (human) first uses to befriend Joey (horse). There's carrot, which may proved a better motivating tool to get beasts to lug artillery through mud than a big stick. There are oats for fortitude and rosemary for remembrance (though its visual resemblance to the tangles of barbed wire that dogged No Man's Land is hardly coincidental). The cake itself is as orange as the Gone with the Wind hued skies that streak the frames of the film, and the icing is as white as the well loved bands down Joey's nose and shins.
If there aren't any strapping 16 hand bays around to eat this cake beside, feel free to consume it all yourself (or buy a novelty miniature one to adorn your serving plate). I know not all of us were blessed with drunk dads who irresponsibly brought home a thoroughbred when we were kids -- certainly my little pony was a wee bit different -- (and very, very plastic).
If there aren't any strapping 16 hand bays around to eat this cake beside, feel free to consume it all yourself (or buy a novelty miniature one to adorn your serving plate). I know not all of us were blessed with drunk dads who irresponsibly brought home a thoroughbred when we were kids -- certainly my little pony was a wee bit different -- (and very, very plastic).
Recipe here
Enjoy Oscars 2012 this Sunday!