My parents never made stuffed vegetables when I was growing up.

Now I know why.

Some people like their veggies filled with rice, ground meat, and onions – maybe even a little crunchy topping – but this does nothing for me, especially when the stuffed vegetable in question is a pepper. I think it comes down to two things: seasoning the pepper itself (it usually isn’t), and its texture after being roasted twice (or parboiled and roasted).

The filling may be tasty, but the pepper remains bland. I have yet to find a recipe that asks for it to be seasoned. (Any leads on this phantom recipe are welcome.) Additionally, cooking the pepper twice – once to make sure it finishes “tender,” and a second time with the filling inside – leaves it flaccid.

The only possible redeeming factor in this sad, sad dinner was a balanced, well-seasoned stuffing: and unfortunately, the one I used from saveur.com was lackluster. (You can find the recipe here, anyway.)

Thankfully, the squash turned out much better – probably because its firm, thick flesh naturally lent itself to roasting. Here’s our acorn squash, post-roast:

More adventures in stuffing to come in the future…

This beautiful kale simply had to be a part of our dinner tonight.

After washing the kale and removing the center stem of each leaf, I sliced the kale into thin strips. Two cloves of garlic were sliced and fried until crisp in a generous amount of olive oil, then removed from the pan. I crumbled in a few sweet Italian sausages (squeezed out of their casings) and several pinches of red pepper flakes, then added the kale after the sausage browned.

While the sausage was cooking, I boiled some farfalle in salted water. The cooked pasta was tossed into the kale-sausage mixture, once the kale became tender and bright green. Golden garlic crisps and shaved parmigiano cheese topped each bowl of pasta.

Our first real foray into Filipino food took place at Renee’s Kitchenette (69-14 Roosevelt Ave., Woodside), right in the heart of Queens’ Little Manila. A friend (Dan the Lawyer-to-be) introduced us to the tantalizingly juicy, garlicky, and spicy-sweet longanisa just a few weeks prior, and Señor Habanero and I loved it so much that we went on a quest to eat it again – and try some new things, too. (If you don’t know what longanisa is, PinoyCook.net has a great description, plus a recipe for a skinless version of it.)

Yep… we sampled some of this flavorful, fatty sausage from this mixed grill plate, which also included barbequed chicken and pork belly, and a side of lightly pickled radish shreds.

We really wanted to try the laing, small packets of pork-and-shrimp filled taro leaves that are cooked in coconut milk, but unfortunately they didn’t have it that day – so we settled instead for a similar (?) dish of shrimp and green beans simmered in a coconut-based broth. A friend of ours also tried the cantaloupe juice, which came with with long strands of cantaloupe flesh suspended in the liquid.

I had the goat stew. I almost didn’t get it, because I was wary of goat meat (someone said it would be tough and chewy), but I’m glad I did. It was pleasantly spicy, and the goat was nowhere near tough.

We were so full by the end of the meal that we didn’t have room for dessert. (And I was hoping to try an avocado shake!) This just gave us yet another reason to return to Little Manila and Renee’s in the future.

The late night munchies crept up on Señor Habanero and me after attending Philharmonic in the Park a couple weeks ago. (You can see more pictures from that night here – including a shot of someone’s sparkler suspended by a balloon, which in turn was lit up by another person’s green laser pointer. It was quite a hit with the crowd.)

Stomachs grumbling, we hopped on the N train to Astoria and headed straight to the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden (29-19 24th Ave., Astoria), where a few of our friends and a pitcher of pilsner awaited us.

Thankfully, the concession stand for food was still open, and we made a beeline for it. The menu consists of simple Czech pub fare – sausages, goulash, fries – and of course, we went for the klobása.

[piclens-lite-link]

There was plenty of saurkraut, horseradish, stale rye bread, and grainy yellow mustard to accompany these glorious pieces of processed meat, but really, the klobása was more than fine on its own. (It was nice to have the pilsner with it, though.) Crispy fried skins encased a juicy, garlicky filling (which is a combination of pork, beef, and bacon), and each bite left a telltale grease smear on our lips.

So tasty – but so bad for you! At that point in the evening, though, we didn’t really care. Those slick links were worth the damage done to our arteries.

Brunch! The implicit lazy Saturday mornings, all-day breakfasting, and sanctioned pre-noon mimosas and bloody marys make this my favorite meal.

The Señor treated the two of us to such a meal at Bubby’s in Tribeca (120 Hudson St.). As usual, the place was packed with families and couples, interspersed by the occasional gaggle of female brunchers, but the hostess still managed to seat us immediately. (It definitely helps to be a party of only two.)

[piclens-lite-link]

Bubby’s is an oasis of country-style home cooking in a city that’s known for being on the cutting edge of modern cuisine. It’s a bit like Penelope in Murray Hill, except with larger portions, a somewhat more attentive staff, and a greater bugaboo presence. The glass pie case by the bar and the 48-states placemats (highlighting the birthplaces of various classic American foods, such as Cobb salad and macaroni and cheese) gives a sort of laid-back, diner-ish feel – which is why I thought the Señor would enjoy dining here.

After ordering drinks (the usual coffee for me, and a large glass of orange juice for the Señor), our meal commenced when two biscuits with butter and jam swiftly landed on our table – a standard, complimentary part of brunch at Bubby’s. Soft, warm, and buttery enough to not require anything further beyond a smear of the strawberry jam, the biscuits were devoured quickly.

Our appetites whetted, we were ready for our orders to arrive Рand soon enough, they did. Once again, the Se̱or and I both ordered from the daily specials menu: he, the crawfish and andouille sausage scramble; I, the locally-harvested blueberry johnnycakes.

Both were delicious, but I have to admit that the Señor chose better this time. His scramble, with its smoky sausage slices and shredded crawfish bits, was perfectly laced with Cajun seasoning and well complimented by the accompanying home fries, which were tender and crisp.

My blueberry johnnycakes weren’t bad, by any means -  the blueberries posed a lightly sweet and juicy foil to the buttery and wonderfully dense cornmeal – but in comparison, they lacked the scramble’s more nuanced flavors. I suppose this really isn’t a fair comparison, though, because they’re two very different dishes.

Regardless, the Señor and I ate our fill, and left Bubby’s highly satisfied. It definitely was a treat for me! (Thanks, Señor!)