A Feast for A King...Only on Father's Day

Yesterday was Father's Day. Instead of gifts, I cook for my husband and my dad. My brother too. (Though he is WAY TO YOUNG to make me an aunt....but one day I hope he does.)

Of course, it's June. It's a man's meal. It's BBQ time.

I started off by making BBQed clams. A very simple recipe. Clams. BBQ sauce. A can of beer. A squirt of lemon juice. Put it all in a tin pan and place on the grill. Grill until they open. I don't eat clams, but my husband assured me they were good. They looked good. They smelled good. But I can't eat them unless they are those deep fried strips you find in places like the Jersey Shore and the East End of Long Island.

I made two salads. Both very simple.

Mozzarella and Tomato with Basil and Balsamic Vinaigrette.

So simple and easy. I make this a lot during the summer because of my kids. My son is a tomato freak. My daughter loves those little mozzarella balls. I know there's a name for those delightful, simple bite sized pieces of cheese...an Italian name that means "little bites" or "little mouths", but around here we call them mozzarella balls. Somewhere on Long Island there are my Italian ancestors rolling in their graves. At least I know how to pronounce mozzarella correctly, unlike most people these days.

Taco Salad.

This is my best friend in the whole wide world's recipe. I've had Taco Salad before and it involved sour cream and cold ground beef...or turkey...or some sort of ground mammal. But this...I call it Dorito Salad, because it's a salad of creamy and crunchy and cheesy Dorito crumbs. And as tacky as it sounds, it is fantastic. Something very comforting about it. Something very American. Only in America do we take something that is healthy (a salad) and turn it into junk food by adding Doritos.

It's five ingredients.

Shredded Iceberg Lettuce

Shredded Cheddar Cheese

Diced tomatoes

Crushed Doritos

A Bottle of Ranch Dressing

Only Five Ingredients and a whole lot of YUM!

The highlight of the Father's Day Lunch...my Drunken Brats.

I know, it looks pathetic in the picture, but you see...my brat goes through great lengths to become the most delicious piece of BBQed meat there ever is. That is one tired brat.

First, it must travel from Omaha. Do not do my recipe and technique any injustice by buying bratwurst anywhere else. It must be from Omaha Steaks.

Then, I defrost them. No matter how many I order, I defrost them all. Even if it's just two of us eating them, I defrost all of them. I throw the brats into a big pot and cover them with cans and cans of beer. A couple of sticks of butter gets thrown in. And heaps of onions, sliced up.

It comes to a boil, then simmer for about 30 minutes. I turn it off and leave it as I go about making my sides and starting up the BBQ.

When I'm ready, I transfer all the brats, juices, and onions to a pan. I bring it outside and put the brats on the grill. I grill them up good, keeping the pan right at my side. When they are all browned and beautiful, I put them back in the pan with the juices and onions. Then I put the pan on the grill and lower the heat. They simmer some more and kept warm.

Serve on a hot dog bun with mustard and some of those soft, beer infused onions on top.

Here's my last bite.
It was so good, I forgot to take a picture of it all set up. I only make these in the summer and I've waited all year for my Drunken Brat. Taking picture for my new blog (and very first post) suddenly became the furthest thing from my mind. At least I saved one bite for the blog.

Oh...so...good. It snaps when you bite into it. The flavor...oh my! Like a Kielbasa married an Italian Sausage and had a Brat. Okay, that just sounded like a really lame, tastless joke. "What do you get when you cross a Polish with an Italian? A Brat!" Lame. Even I'm shaking my head in embarassment right now.

Of course, if I'm ordering bratwurst from Omaha Steaks, I'm going to check and see if their steaks are on sale. And they were. And since it was Father's Day...
What a perfect gift for the Dads. And I made it just how my Dad liked it. With nothing on it. No salt. No pepper. None of that "junk" my father claims I put on my meats. Just the strip of bacon it came with. That strip of bacon alone keeps it moist, tender, and gives the steak just the right amount of saltiness and smokiness. Just a touch. If you want more flavor, you can always commit the cardinal sin and drown it in A-1 sauce, like my kids do. Money spent on delicious steaks and they drown it with a bottle of 1.99 steak sauce. Next time, remind me to just give them the bottle with a straw.

And no BBQ is complete without my corn on the cob.

People love my corn on the cob. They come from miles to have my corn on the cob. Okay...maybe not miles, but I do get a lot of compliments on my corn. My Dad would rather have my corn on the cob than my Drunken Brat. I don't understand this. It's just corn. But it's summery goodness.

The corn gets those stringy tops cut off. I pull off a loose husk or two. I fill the sink with clean, ice cold water and let them soak. I think that the longer they soak, they juicier they are. But, 30 minutes should be fine. I have been known to soak them for a couple of hours and they are just divine.

Wrap each one in foil and throw them in the oven. 45-60 minutes should do it.

Some people like butter and salt. My kids and husband love to spray them down with I Can't Believe It's Not Butter.

Me? I rub a wedge of lime up and down those yellow, plump kernels. Then dust it with good, old fashion black pepper. Un-Be-Lievable!

Pure summer joy in my mouth.