Recessions seems to come at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?

While the idea of going out for a romantic (read: budget-busting) dinner á deux seems rather ill-advised in these economic times, an at-home version can easily meet, or even exceed, the experience at a gorgeous restaurant.

Valentine’s Day is almost here, love is in the air, and what better way to suss out the relationship potential with your latest paramour, than by employing the time-tested and proven Bacon & Egg Relationship Barometer.

There is nothing more soothing than a hearty weekend brunch to cure what ails you. Whether it’s stress, the common cold, or an overzealous hangover, a big pile of bacon, steaming and oozing eggs, thick toast, and strong coffee are the quintessential cure-all. That is, unless your morning meal is fraught with relationship-status-speculation, or RSS.

“There are no atheists in foxholes…. or among hostesses 60 minutes prior to guests’ arrival.” It’s a slight, but accurate tweak to this controversial statement.

However pious or atheistic she may be, in the 60 minute count down before a hostess’s guests arrive, there are any number of religious outcries, Hail Marys, pleadings and deals brokered with God, if he or she will just see fit to let this ill-advised decision – to have friends and family to her home for a meal – not result in her being labelled a failure as cook and hostess.

I’ve been there. I do not intend to turn this post into a theological discussion, but rather to share my secret Holy Trinity of entertaining (and a few helpful reminders) for pleading-free hostessing.

This is one of my recipe all-stars, as it is breathtakingly easy, takes 15-20 minutes to prepare from grocery bag to table, and always produces a ripple of awe and gratitude, as people think that you’ve either slaved for hours, or are a Mario Batali-esque kitchen whiz (or, God-willing, both).

To illustrate, I once pulled this recipe out for an impromptu Girls’ Night In. I received the phone call at 6, my friends would arrive at 7:30, and I had nothing to serve. 45 minutes later I had returned from my neighborhood Whole Foods with mussels, onion, parsley, crusty bread, and white wine. I cleaned the apartment (or shoved the detritus underneath the couch), cleared off the kitchen table, and started prepping around 7:15. The ladies arrived, coats were hung, bums in seats, and dinner was served by 7:35.

[caption id="attachment_8" align="aligncenter" width="500" caption="Clean-tasting, salty, and plump, Moules Mariniere swimming in their buttery sauce."][/caption]

For the inaugural post in Besotted Gourmet, it seemed fitting to feature a recipe that is both iconic in its own right and also a crucial element of countless other dishes – it is the nucleus, if you will, of most cuisine.

I speak of a basic, homemade chicken stock – the base for chicken soup and numerous other dishes, including risotto, polenta, stews, casseroles, sauces, and many more.