I did make a new year's resolution this year. Sort of. I don't really do the resolution thing, but I did make a resolutionesque decision, and I did it around the end of the year, so it pretty much qualifies.

And this resolution is a simple one. I will no longer purchase or consume ANY buffalo-chicken-wing-flavored product that is not in fact a buffalo wing. The years of disappointment and irritation end now.

No picture, because they haven't actually been filled and cooked yet, but today I worked up the lemongrass-shrimp dumpling filling for the anniversary party, and it has been tested and stored in the fridge for near-future use.

I will warn you in advance that this is a somewhat imprecise recipe, due to circumstances beyond my control, but where it's imprecise, I should be able to get you pretty close. For this filling, you'll need:

Allow me to explain why I'm bothering to post another damn picture of lightly sauteed fish and a potato product. Therein lies a mildly interesting tale.

The original plan was actually to measure out and create a recipe for that brown flecked mass at 2:00. But about halfway through, I lost the thread and just started throwing shit into the pot. So there's no recipe.

Ask any chef or cook what their most important tool is, and they'll all answer the same. "Knives". Well, except for Guy Fieri, who will answer his Jimmy Buffett Margaritaville combination margarita maker, popcorn machine, and panini press, if he's being honest. But even Guy is shilling his own branded knives these days, so he probably won't be honest.

In other related news, we have a project under way. Turns out our 16th anniversary (as a couple) happens to fall right on Chinese New Year, so we're whipping up a small dumpling party to celebrate.

I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself. They came out OK. I am assured by the other people that ate them that they were fine, and tasted like falafel. And except for the first couple of burned ones, they all got ate.

But it wasn't what I wanted, dammit. And so, falafail. Or failafel. It didn't quite measure up to the level of a failafail, at least.

All great chefs reinterpret classic dishes from their childhood. And while I am no great chef, I did have a certain fondness, growing up, for what we knew as "ground sirloin".

As I've mentioned in the past, when I go out to eat, more often than not it's at a fast-casual place with counter service. Sure, I see the value in going to a nice restaurant, sitting down, and enjoying a nice, long meal with good service and pleasant conversation. But I don't always have the time or money for that, and neither do you. And so I find myself at a Chipotle, or a Panera, or a Noodles, or, from time to time, a Pei Wei.

The plan, as these things go, was to try and approximate the amazing lemongrass-infused, seared beef kabobs I had the last time I was at Rice Paper. I wasn't sure what cut of meat they used, but I suspected they might be short, mainly from the shape.

I haven't cooked all fucking week.