Sunday was a crime against good food.

If I were writing a menu that served the food I ate this Sunday, there would be "Hashbrowns," simple enough, and "Apple Cider Failcakes," which might need more of a small text explanation.

I meant to make crepes, the easy kind you make in a blender. They're not perfect, but they're easy and good enough for getting some kicks in the "flat things covered in syrup" category (of kicks). I thought I'd be economical and use the food processor instead, since I already had it down to effortlessly shred my potatoes for the hash browns. Here, economical refers to me not wasting energy to get the blender out from under the counter, pretty much exactly where I was standing. This was my first bad idea. The blade for the food processor didn't really mix the way the blender did and I ended up with a lot of dry flour stuck to the sides and bottom of the processing chamber that I had to mix in with a fork.

My second mistake was starting to make crepes without checking to see if we had milk. We didn't. At times like these, either you go shopping or you improvise. I improvised: 2 parts pomegranate apple cider, 1 part sour cream, blended thoroughly with a fork and measured out to match the recommended volume of milk. I don't know if that was a mistake, per se, but I did not end up with crepes. They were too sturdy for crepes, but very delicate for pancakes. Even though I'm calling them "Failcakes" I think I'd make them again. They'd need a touch more salt to balance the cider, but otherwise, they were very edible, if not exactly what I was going for when I started cooking.

There was no lunch for Sunday. I needed to shake off the bad kitchen mojo from the morning before digging in to cooking for dinner. I had a few friends over for Indian. This was a bad idea for dinner at the end of June, but I persevered through the perspiration to come out with a great chana masala and a passable saag "paneer."

I made fresh garlic/ginger paste in the food processor at about a 1:1 ratio. A generous tablespoon of this in some hot oil is a good way to start off most curries. You may also want to add chili paste, although with these dishes I didn't use any chilis for the chana and I blended the chilis directly into the spinach for the saag. As the paste starts to give off its juices to the oil, you want to add your spices to the oil to let the flavors break out and grow. Chana masala works primarily off the magic of whole cumin seeds and the onions that you brown in the oil before adding the chick peas. With saag, I like to build with a lot of chili powder and coriander supported with cinnamon and mace.

Before tossing the spinach in, though, you should brown your paneer and your potatoes if you're using them, then reserving them to give the spinach some quality time in the pan with the oils all by themselves, to get real cozy and get a nice fry on. I've mentioned this before, but it bears repeating, if you're having trouble tracking down actual Indian paneer, queso fresca makes a very good substitute. It may be cheaper than paneer, depending on your supermarket options, and it has the same sturdy texture that allows you to fry it in blocks for the saag.

Once the onions are browning for the chana and the spinach has started to break down from shredded leaves to green, buttery gravy, you're going to add your chickpeas to the chana and the potatoes and some onion cut into wedges into the saag. You're also going to want to add a tomato or two to each, depending on the size of your tomatoes and how much you really like tomatoes in the first place. If you don't want tomato skins floating around your curry, you can get the skins off very easily by setting the tomatoes in boiling water for a minute and then allowing them to cool. the skins will slide right off. I usually cut the tomatoes into wedges before adding them to either curry.

The longer you let the chana go on a low heat, the better. The whole cumin seeds and the chickpeas need time to really start to play well with others. With the saag you don't want to put your "paneer" in too soon as stirring the curry has a high potential to break the slices into crumbles. At the low-heat stage you may also want to finish with whole fat yogurt, buttermilk, or just a ton of butter. This time around I went with the later option supplemented with some whole milk I got when I finally worked up the motivation to get to the store. I also added a nice shot of my grandmother's spicy tomato soup, which, isn't really soup at all, more like a mason jar of culinary napalm.

Made a little rice in the rice cooker and we were all set to tear in to quality comfort food and a spread of red wines. Great dinner in November, bad idea in June. I may have to put a moratorium on cooking Indian food until October. I worked up as much of a sweat cooking dinner as I do riding my bike to work. Also, even the delightful rioja that highlighted the wine list was not the best hot weather choice of beverage. The rest of the summer, my kitchen's house wine is Haffenreffer's Private Stock. When company comes calling, wow them with the imported taste!