Ruby Red Stilettos

Just click (your heels)

Slow Cooker Soiree

September 4, 2009 at 3:33 am by Danielle Travali

If economic crises have slighted you with ramen noodles, you need the Foodie Fairy Godmother to rescue you from meal mediocrity.

I feel your pain. Now that I just got my first apartment about seven months ago, I, too, am strapped for cash. It’s hard enough to afford a shopping cart full of nutritious fare, let alone a small bagful. If you ask me, grocery store prices are way un-fare. But does my dollar deficit mean I’ll have to forego my chic food fetes with friends? I think not. I’ll show you how I wined and dined my dear pals without bending over backward or breaking my bank account.

The Mission: To compose a gastronomic masterpiece by using idiot-proof equipment and the simplest yet tastiest pantry staples. Here’s how:

Take it Nice and Slow. You may have heard this on several cooking shows, but I’m going to tell you again: slow cookers really do save you time, money and energy. You can go exercise, reorganize your closet or catch up with your favorite sitcom as your meal simmers away in a pot on your countertop. It’s fabulous. If you don’t have a slow cooker, get one. It’s one of the smartest investments you’ll ever make.

Concoctions, Concoctions. I literally just threw a bunch of basic ingredients together and turned the slow cooker up to medium heat. In five hours, I had a tasty, tender chicken dish. Let me tell you, this bird soared above everyone’s expectations—including mine.

Fab, Frugal Working Girl’s Slow Cooker Chicken

3 cups cold water
2-3 cups low-sodium chicken stock (we want to control the amount of salt we use)
1 yellow onion, chopped
3 stalks celery, chopped
1 cup baby carrots
1 tomato, diced
½ bag frozen California-style mixed vegetables
handful of marinated artichoke hearts from a jar (save the brine)
6-8 chicken tenderloins
sea salt, ground black pepper
fresh thyme, rosemary, sage and parsley
¼ cup lemon juice (about half a lemon)
¼ cup artichoke brine

Add these ingredients to your slow cooker, set to high heat for about four (4) hours or low heat for eight (8) hours. Chicken will be juicier than ever and all the vegetables, herbs and spices will amalgamate.

You can serve this as a soup/stew or drain the liquid with a slotted spoon and plate it as a hearty entrée over brown rice. I used a lot of liquid so I could save it to make a great-tasting soup the next day. The chicken, vegetables, lemon juice and artichoke brine render a zesty broth that’s comforting yet pleasantly provocative on the palate.

Since I don’t yet have any chairs, my friends and I relished this meal on my coffee table while watching a hilarious Will Ferrell movie and swooning over the scent of the vanilla pound cake-scented oil I bought at Wal-Mart for $1.25. We also enjoyed a bottle of Shiraz, which I of course did not buy. My philosophy? Let pals take care of the drinks!

Try these ideas and let me know what you think!

Danielle Travali

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Why “Ruby Red Stilettos”?

September 3, 2009 at 3:24 pm by Danielle Travali

Glass slippers don’t fit

the dreams of Cinderella;

red stilettos do.

—Ryan DeLaurentis

You’re probably wondering who I am and why I started a blog called Ruby Red Stilettos. First let me tell you about myself. I’m an obsessive-compulsive, scatterbrained writer, foodie, certified personal trainer, makeup seller, gluten-free cook and last but not least, graduate journalism student. I may seem to have many talents. But really, I’m just a confused 23-year-old looking for my big break, searching for meaning, purpose and quarters to do my laundry. Join me as I report on the fun and fabulous things, people, trends and events I witness, as well as my musings and mishaps. Hopefully, you’ll have a few good laughs.

Now, without further ado, here’s why I chose the name Ruby Red Stilettos…

My student loan debt from college and grad school is pretty close to the number of Joan Rivers’ cosmetic surgeries. So, I can barely afford to spend money on much of anything, let alone fancy, expensive shoes. I do, however, have this one pair of red stilettos I bought for $60 at DSW on my 21st birthday. They remind me of Dorothy’s Ruby Slippers sans the glitter. How appropriate. On my way to restaurant reviews and interviews in Manhattan, I always get lost while reading the map on my BlackBerry, wishing a click of my heels could transport me back to Grand Central. But I don’t want to pay for transportation; I use my legs. You could only imagine what happens when I decide to hail a taxi. Picture it: as I watch the Jimmy Choo-clad catwalkers hop into the first cab they see, my heel gets stuck in a metal subway grate, then my foot slides out of the shoe and into a puddle of garbage juice. Why do I always feel like the klutzy underdog in a tween comedy?

Even with one leg about a centimeter shorter than the other, I have trained myself to run in these shoes, sometimes in the rain to catch my train back to Connecticut, and other times, on cracked sidewalks and up hills—in serious pain. You can hear me coming from a mile away, the hollow clock-clock heel sound against the pavement.

These slightly scuffed, toe-squashing, three-and-a-half-inch cockroach killers (as my mother jokes), have become my trademark. They symbolize my uniqueness, my fiery Sicilian temper and my feminine pride. They shield me from the short-girl complex, too. Despite the amoeba-like blisters these pumps have left on my feet, I’ll never throw them away.

I may walk down some crazy, twisted paths in life, but at least I’ll be wearing my favorite shoes.

love-holly