I have a brussel sprouts recipe all queued up for this blog. And not just ANY brussels sprouts recipe, but my all-time favorite brussels sprouts recipe; the one I turn to year after year, Thanksgiving after Thanksgiving, Christmas after Christmas. Unfortunately, those will have to wait, because I just ate this stew and youmustknowaboutit NOW!
Ok, so this isn’t the most fetching of dishes. But just like your favorite sweatshirt from college, sometimes comfort comes in ratty packages. This particular dish is fabulous not only because it’s flavorful, but because it’s made in a crock pot. You do have a crockpot, don’t you? A crockpot is a working girls best friend. Sure, it may give you 1970’s-housewife flashbacks or, if like me, you weren’t around in the 70’s, 1970’s-housewife imaginings, but I implore you: get over it. Crockpots are brilliant.
Do you remember a month ago when you were so excited for the turkey and the stuffing and all the fixings? Do you remember how amazing it was? Do you remember the turkey sandwiches and turkey soup and turkey tetrazzini that followed? And the subsequent creeping feeling about 3 weeks ago that maybe you had had enough turkey and that just one more bite would end in a certain thin mint–like catastrophe? I felt your pain, really, I did. But a few weeks have passed now and I think it’s time to revisit thanksgiving dinner, since it really does embody all the delicious flavors of fall and winter. Please don’t be frightened though, I won’t make you eat turkey.
I cook for myself a lot and I go out to eat sometimes, but what I never do, is grab a sandwich. And that’s a shame, because I love a good sandwich. Consequently, I had developed a backlog of sandwich shops that I’ve been meaning to try and have never gotten around to. I decided to do something about that a couple weeks ago and, oh man, was that the right decision.
The first place I went was No. 7 Sub, mostly because it’s so close to my office. It’s located in the too-cool-for-school Ace hotel, which also houses Stumptown (drool) and The Breslin (double drooooool). There’s no signage outside, but you can spot it from the people milling about outside around lunchtime. Inside it’s standing counters only and hipsters in I ❤ Bacon shirts (which is cool with me because I also heart bacon; bigtime).