New Year's Oysters and Christmas Kielbasa

I love New Year's eve. First of all, it's our only non-denominational domestic holiday that's celebrated at night (that's pretty sexy in and of itself). A holiday that celebrates the passage of time, the ticking of a clock; opening and closing. It gives us an opportunity to look back and celebrate and look forward and celebrate. A collective kiss at a particular second enjoyed by everyone on your slice of the globe. It's delicious and debaucherous.

This year, as usual, I had no plan. No boyfriend, no prior committment, no stack of party invites. And I came down with the flu, which gave me the opportunity to curl up with Woody Allen and call it a night. But no...

I was obsessed with the idea of tossing back oysters at midnight, and so I pursued the vision right down the street to Blue Ribbon, where I've enjoyed many a late night oyster. I found myself a male slurping partner, which is important, as it renews my faith in men, which could use a bit of bolstering these days. (I've always feared men who don't dig raw oysters, the ultimate yonic symbol. Men who love raw oysters can properly love a woman, and vice versa. Think about it.)

So there I was at 11:59, staring at a dozen shimmering balls of bliss, a bottle of Northwestern Pinot (a wonderful, minerally partner for the ladies), and a bowl of chicken soup. Now is the time to enjoy the plump, briney beauties--- forget about raw shellfish at summer beach parties; they're meant to be enjoyed in those ber (burr) months, when the water is cold, and these girls are vivid and tight. I didn't have the heart to put any sauce on them; I just enjoyed their nakedness like mini edible Baby New Year's.

But don't take my word for it, go get them yourself. Happy New Year!



Christmas Kielbasa
For Christmas this year, I was up in Rochester, NY, visiting with my stocking-stuffing relatives. I was given dinner detail, and the crowd gave this spicy beer-steamed kielbasa a double thumbs up.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1/2 large vidalia onion, sliced
Salt
3 tablespoons your favorite prepared mustard (we had French's, but feel free to mix it up)
1 bottle amber beer
3 pounds kielbasa


1. Heat oven to 350F. Heat oil in a small skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, season with salt, and stir. Reduce heat to medium-low, and cook until caramelized, about 30 minutes.

2. Add mustard, and stir to coat. Add beer (I know, hot beer seems weird but just go with me on this) and bring to a simmer.

3. Meanwhile, stab kielbasa all over with the tip of a knife (every 1 1/2 inches or so) and place in a roasting pan. Pour hot beer and onions over the kielbasa, and place in the oven. Cook for one hour, until beer has almost completely steamed away. Raise heat to 425 and cook for an additional 15 minutes. Slice carefully and serve.