tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-81192981846455194902023-11-16T12:46:57.273-05:00The Misadventures of Mrs. BCook. Writer. Wife. Daughter. Sister. Friend. Klutz.MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-42708480514245433912011-02-23T06:30:00.000-05:002011-02-23T06:30:16.442-05:00No One's Home!I've packed my bags and moved out! <br />
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Please come visit my at my <a href="http://www.misadventuresofmrsb.com/">NEW Wordpress site</a>, friends!MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-5393450975144760372011-02-21T11:50:00.000-05:002011-02-21T11:50:41.149-05:00Don't Say I Didn't Tell You...Hey, friends!<br />
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Guess what? My new site is just about ready to go! Woot!<br />
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Within the next few days I'll be giving you the word to come on over, and I really hope you do.<br />
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Exciting! <em>(for me, at least...)</em>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-63142386916804418842011-02-18T10:25:00.004-05:002011-02-21T12:27:31.462-05:00The Red Dress Club: Until Someday Comes<em><span style="font-family: inherit;">Another post focused on writing instead of food! Weird, huh? Today I'm happy to once again be participating in </span><a href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/02/red-writing-hood-found.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The Red Dress Club's</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> weekly writing meme. Thanks for all of the wonderful responses last week - I wasn't as "social" as I would have liked to be, but that's because we were out of town. This weekend watch out - I'm gonna be all up in y'all's business.</span></em><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><strong>Today's prompt: Write about finding a lost article of clothing in the back of a drawer or closet. How was it found, what is it, why is it so meaningful?</strong></em> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Saturday. Laundry day. I find it easiest to just barrel through as fast as I can, single-minded, before inertia sets in and I “discover” a movie on TV that I’ve seen a million times but need to watch just…once…more. Before you know it hours have passed and I’ve sat through yet another “Rocky” marathon with nothing but an overflowing hamper to show for it. Gotta stay focused.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I finish matching up what seems like a million pairs of socks and open the drawer to dump them in when I see it. A small lump of light blue fabric in the back corner. How long has it been there? Months? Years? I don’t even remember exactly when it ended up in my possession, but I’ve kept it all this time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I reach for it and pull it out, smiling sheepishly to myself. Yes, now I remember. I’d been visiting one of my oldest friends, a girl I’d gone through high school with. She was the first of my girlfriends from that time of my life to have a baby. Talk about a shock – seeing the girl you giggled with late into the night, who you sat around and dreamed up your fantasy wedding with and swooned over Antonio Banderas with (you know, back when he was still hot) now sporting a baby on her shoulder and spit-up stains down her back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At the time of my visit she had recently given birth to her second little boy. Little guy #1 was running around with the sort of boundless energy all toddlers have and I was playing games with him. The big event that afternoon was “hiding” an article in plain view for him to “find” it and return it to me. Amazing how the simplest games can entertain a child for hours.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I got home that night I was searching for something in my purse and I found <em>it</em>. A little present my buddy had given me. I'd left my bag sitting wide open on the floor and he’d evidently gotten it into his head to hide something for <em>me</em> to find but then forgot all about it. A tiny pair of his baby brother’s socks.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few years later I examine those socks once again. So small. I hold them up to my nose and breathe deep. They still have that glorious scent of extra gentle detergent – fainter now, but there nonetheless. I run my thumb over the unfathomably soft cotton and I smile to myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why did I keep them? Why did I tuck them safely into the back of my own sock drawer and never tell a soul about them, not even my husband? I don’t know for sure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay, that’s a lie. My heart knows better. I told myself that I was saving them for “someday”. For the day my own little baby would need them. Until then they would stay a secret, an ever-present symbol of my heart’s desire. I had forgotten about their existence but not about what they stood for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">For now I will put my little treasure back in its place and shut the drawer. There it will stay until someday comes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> <em>Thanks for reading! Any and all constructive criticism is welcome. For the record, the specifics of the story are fictional - the only socks in my drawer are mine (well, maybe there's a pair of my husband's in there, too...).</em> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-6972175726941314052011-02-17T11:40:00.002-05:002011-02-21T12:27:48.743-05:00Writer's Workshop: A Vacation to Remember<a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img alt="Mama's Losin' It" src="http://i913.photobucket.com/albums/ac331/mamakatslosinit/workshop-button-1.png" /></span></a><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">Prompt #1: A Vacation to Remember</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>Rumspringa</em> is a Pennsylvania German term which means "running around", and it is used to describe a period of time for Amish youth from the age of 16 until they decide to be baptized into the Amish church or to leave the church and the Amish way of life forever. During this time, the teenagers can pretty much do whatever they want in order to ensure that when they decide to become baptized, they are making the most informed decision possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Recently we watched a documentary entitled "The Devil's Playground" which told the stories of several such teens and their experiences. It's fascinating and at times downright shocking to see what some of these kids will get into during their "time off".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This past weekend, Rob and I took a short trip to Amish country and stayed at a bed & breakfast just outside of Lancaster, PA.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a fantastic mini-vacation. We relaxed for the sake of relaxing. On Saturday we actually took a nap. Yes. A nap. For, like, 3 hours. Because we could. That's one thing we never feel like we can attempt when we go to Disneyworld, for sure - everything's scheduled, there's always something more to do, you can maybe take a quick snooze if you play your cards right. But in Amish country? Zzzzz....Bliss.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We had some really important, probing conversations, such as "What would happen if the government banned all fast food restaurants?". We discovered a quaint little place called "Pancake Farm" and wondered if they, in fact, grew pancakes there. Alas, we never found out, since they are closed on Sunday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Most importantly, we did something we hadn't done in a while. We did it again and again throughout the entire weekend. Seriously, we were unstoppable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><em>We laughed.</em> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We laughed at everything. We were silly, we were goofy. Everything was funny to us.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">One of our biggest running jokes focused on <em>rumspringa</em>. We decided that we would just wreak havoc all over the place and shout "Ruuuuumspringaaaa!" at the top of our lungs while doing so. And we came up with all sorts of crazy scenarios that sent us into fits of hysterical laughter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh, did I rear-end you because you cut me off in the parking lot? <em>Rumspringa!</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Did I tell you off because you're being all chatty and annoying while I'm trying to eat breakfast which you forced me to get out of bed at 8 AM for, B&B owner? <em>Rumspringa!</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Did I punch your lights out for walking back and forth, repeatedly, in the room above me? On a hardwood floor? Wearing heels? At 7:00 in the morning? <em>Rumspringa!</em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I think we even decided to legally change our last name to <em>Rumspringa</em>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">And no. We hadn't touched a drop. It was just one of those magical times when you're drunk on laughter and silliness and the simple joy of being together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We were at my favorite Amish smorgasbord on Saturday night. I love the place. It is Heaven to me. Simple, homecooked food prepared expertly by people who know how to fry a piece of chicken. If I could marry a restaurant, this would be the place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The only drawback for me is sharing a long table with a bunch of strangers, as the food is served family-style on big platters. I don't mind eating with my entire family or a big group of friends. It's when I have to sit with strangers that I feel uncomfortable. And besides, who wants to look like a pig at one of these places? My family and friends already know I'm a pig...er...enthusiastic over good food. But here, we all have to "share" and "be polite". Psssh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, we were seated first and wondered who we would be sharing our table with. Soon another couple joined us. And I knew from the get-go, just by hearing the way the wife talked about their numerous past experiences here, that they could very well foil my plans for gluttonous overindulgence. I didn't want to have to break any fingers in pursuit of that extra slice of pie (seriously, I am so hardcore - I only eat there, like, once every 3 or 4 years).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In my distress, I texted Rob from across the table. <strong>Throwdown</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">His reply? <strong>RUMSPRINGA!!!!</strong></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SYap5ctMAVVWfCcNYN-RJBJAwdFUcVB8BeDqoGUPuowQjor2Q9S6SbJRvRBGJFAeVXHtvhk84QQkyKXboYinCL845LPDBoSuX4kloKkF_n3hA7sKVxiYghBaLE4qp4hRoTnECG2YSHs/s1600/Bread.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" j6="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6SYap5ctMAVVWfCcNYN-RJBJAwdFUcVB8BeDqoGUPuowQjor2Q9S6SbJRvRBGJFAeVXHtvhk84QQkyKXboYinCL845LPDBoSuX4kloKkF_n3hA7sKVxiYghBaLE4qp4hRoTnECG2YSHs/s1600/Bread.jpg" /></span></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">Oh, homemade bread and apple butter. You complete me.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Rob pointed out something to me last night. Evidently our trip made a lasting impression with him and he's been thinking back on it quite a bit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">To him, it symbolized that apart from all the stress we've been through in the past year, all the depression and anxiety and general insanity we've weathered...we still have "It". It's still there. We may not be able to tap into it as much as we would like, but the reason we're together in the first place stands strong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We were able to shed all of that excess baggage for a couple of days and get back to the basics of our marriage and our friendship. We cut loose. We lived without a schedule. We overate (<-- understatement) and threw all caution to the wind. And then we went back to our "real life" together, with a fresh point of view and the determination to tap into that silly side of ourselves more often.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was a very important mini-vacation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was our <em>rumspringa</em>.</span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-76535321692970799522011-02-15T12:13:00.001-05:002011-02-21T12:28:06.044-05:00A Few of My Favorite Foodies!<span style="font-family: inherit;">There comes a time in any blogger's life when she feels as though she needs to give a shout-out to the bloggers who inspire her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is one of those times.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I follow a lot of foodies. A lot. A whole lot. I also follow many people who don't focus exclusively on food but whose recipes, photography, and general attitude towards the craft of creating good food inspire me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Paula at </span><a href="http://www.bellalimento.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bell'Alimento</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> is one of those bloggers. I pester her constantly. I'm always calling her names like "temptress". I complain that she's leading me down dark roads, what with her drool-worthy photos of delectable dishes. As if that wasn't enough, she now has </span><a href="http://bellanutella.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">an entire site dedicated to her obsession with Nutella</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (seriously, don't click on that if you're on a diet). Paula, I love you, you're a sweetheart, but you're killing me. Just so ya know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Another such fantastic blogger is Katie over at </span><a href="http://thischickcooks.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This Chick Cooks</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">. I first noticed Katie when we linked to a lot of the same foodie blog parties - I was always stumbling across her lovely photos, her delicious looking recipes, and was always impressed. Finally it occured to me that - duh - I should just become a follower of her blog so I could keep up with the craziness - she's a very prolific blogger with lots of awesome looking goodies, and I wouldn't want to miss one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then there's Kristan of </span><a href="http://www.confessionsofacookbookqueen.com/2011/02/chicken-and-gnocchi-soup.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Confessions of a Cookbook Queen</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> - another blogger I pester. Not only does she create some of the most outrageous bits of heaven I've ever laid eyes on (not to mention crazy stuff like </span><a href="http://www.confessionsofacookbookqueen.com/2011/02/angry-birds-cupcakes.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Angry Birds cupcakes</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">), but she's completely hysterical to boot. It's much easier for me to not die of jealousy over someone else's talent when they're funny and relatable. Kristan manages this quite well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Alissa over at </span><a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">33 Shades of Green</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> isn't exclusively a food blogger, but I've had the pleasure of linking up with her </span><a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/2011/02/tasty-tuesdaysbeef-cheddar-and-potato.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tasty Tuesdays</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> blog hop and let me tell you, this girl can cook and photograph up a storm. She's also a crafty gal, which I envy the heck out of. Visiting her blog is a delight and an inspiration every single time.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: inherit;">There you have it. Just a small handful of my favorite food gals. Who are <em>your</em> favorite bloggers?</span></strong>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-70665704593500826962011-02-14T21:53:00.008-05:002011-02-21T12:28:55.604-05:00Bacon Brussels Sprouts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07VtgX3qIK4RTj9VHaNEvUnUe3cwX4emu79GqccCkm0XU1m0H3y_-yJ5YvJbyhyk_IviizDZtPZaKGm1D_L4V7RVEMixxMNsPy9ud5OgKIn37GW5LpdgCzA9ICO2VxnzFG1yke1wiFyk/s1600/IMG_1818webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07VtgX3qIK4RTj9VHaNEvUnUe3cwX4emu79GqccCkm0XU1m0H3y_-yJ5YvJbyhyk_IviizDZtPZaKGm1D_L4V7RVEMixxMNsPy9ud5OgKIn37GW5LpdgCzA9ICO2VxnzFG1yke1wiFyk/s320/IMG_1818webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If there was one vegetable I hated as a kid, it was Brussels sprouts.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Wow. It's like I just heard dozens of people saying "Duh" at the same time.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay. I know I wasn't alone in this hatred. Lucky for me, we rarely ate them. Still, the few times we did have left me scarred for life. Boiled beyond recognition, puke green in color, bearing a faint odor of...well, stank...they were not exactly favored fare.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And it stayed this way. Until recently.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was only recently that I learned that Brussels sprouts don't have to be disgusting. They don't have to be overcooked to the point of mush. They can be infused with flavor. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bacon flavor. Yes, friends, I was sold.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I wound up using </span><a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/brussels-sprouts-with-onions-and-bacon-recipe/index.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paula Deen's</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Brussels sprouts recipe as a starting point, and made my own alterations as I saw fit. You know me - I always have to edit a recipe to my own liking. I didn't see a reason to cook 2 pounds at once since I knew I'd be the only one eating them, and I changed the preparation instructions a bit as well. For instance I knew, having received advice from some wise bloggers, that allowing the cut sides to sit in the bacon fat and carmelize would be the way to go. I removed the onions/garlic from the pan prior to adding the sprouts in order to increase the surface area and decrease the chance of dealing with stinky burned garlic. And it just seemed right to me to leave the sprouts in the pan after the broth evaporated in order to sort of re-brown them. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 lb fresh brussels sprouts, ends trimmed and sprouts sliced in half lengthwise</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">1/4 pound bacon, diced (around 5-6 slices, or more if you're a glutton like me)</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 shallots, minced</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 clove garlic, minced</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">1 cup chicken broth</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">2 tbs butter</span></b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Heat large frying pan over medium high heat. Add bacon and cook until crisp. Remove bacon using slotted spoon, leaving rendered fat in pan. Set bacon aside.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Reduce heat to medium. Add shallots and garlic and cook for around a minute, stirring frequently to prevent burning. Remove with slotted spoon and set aside.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Add sprouts to pan. Turn all cut side-down so as to allow carmelization. Cook for several minutes, checking periodically to ensure proper browning without burning. When sprouts have carmelized, add onions and garlic back to pan and pour chicken broth over top. Allow broth to cook down completely, leaving pan uncovered, and occasionally move sprouts around to ensure even cooking. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once liquid is evaporated, allow sprouts to sit cut side-down again for several minutes in order to encourage further browning. Add butter, and plenty of salt and pepper. Stir gently to combine. Remove from heat and serve with bacon pieces on top.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixM8ylM3UsyICcZamvX91x3rFzPPd9RwpvwGnwFLRVb5XNA00vvS8-yQ8qKd0fP6OYDyZ4Cea_BayaIYHA4o4wxjQlMSJNH7K0lkFj5e5yTQLnhD3lW5YKXrjGPDhyPpBolauwkypPBbw/s1600/IMG_1824webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixM8ylM3UsyICcZamvX91x3rFzPPd9RwpvwGnwFLRVb5XNA00vvS8-yQ8qKd0fP6OYDyZ4Cea_BayaIYHA4o4wxjQlMSJNH7K0lkFj5e5yTQLnhD3lW5YKXrjGPDhyPpBolauwkypPBbw/s320/IMG_1824webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And that's it, friends. So simple and yet so good. The carmelization is marvelous, and I really believe that allowing the cooked sprouts to brown again added another level of flavor.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Plus. Bacon. Yeah. Suffice it to say I sat there and picked at these babies the entire time I was taking pictures of them. Then I ate them all week long. And it was amazing. I think I'll add more shallots next time, or just regular onions.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Make this dish</i>. I promise you, if you aren't already a Brussels sprouts convert, you will be. And you'll wonder how you managed to spend so much time away from them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Were you forced to eat Brussels sprouts as a kid? Do you think you'd enjoy them more if prepared this way? </span></b><br />
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</span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sharing with </span><a href="http://allthesmallstuff-cole.blogspot.com/2011/02/tuesdays-at-table-easy-oreo-truffles.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All the Small Stuff</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://fudgeripple.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Fudge Ripple</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://beautyandbedlam.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Balancing Beauty and Bedlam</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/2011/02/tasty-tuesdaysbeef-cheddar-and-potato.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">33 Shades of Green</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://mizhelenscountrycottage.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Miz Helen's Country Cottage</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/2011/02/foodie-friday-gilding-store-bought.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Designs by Gollum</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span><a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/2011/02/friday-favorites-week-51.html"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Simply Sweet Home</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> & </span><a href="http://tidymom.net/2011/im-lovin-it-the-cottage-chick/"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tidy Mom</span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;"> - stop by and see what's going on with all the other talented bloggers who link up there! </span></b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-8668676978425322582011-02-11T09:28:00.000-05:002011-02-11T09:28:16.879-05:00Red Writing Hood: The Love of My Life<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><em>I'm happy to be linking up for <strong>the first time</strong> this week with </em><a href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/"><em>The Red Dress Club</em></a><em>! Squeal!</em><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a border="0" href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i873.photobucket.com/albums/ab294/eclay03/redwritinghood.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<em>This week's prompt involved starting the submission with "I could never have imagined" and ending with "Then the world shifted". I would love any comments and any constructive criticism, and am looking forward to visiting the other participants. Thanks!</em></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I could never have imagined that I would meet the love of my life on Craigslist.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yes. Craigslist.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It wasn’t the sort of ad through which men and women <em>usually</em> meet on that site. There were no come on’s, no propositions. Just a girl writing an ad, venting about the shallowness of the men she had met to that point and laying it all on the line for anyone who cared to read it, and a boy who found that ad and felt compelled to respond.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Out of all of the replies I got that day, his in particular stood out. He had clearly put a lot of thought into it. Hell, he could spell and knew how to put a sentence together. That alone put him ahead of the pack. But it was more than that. As I read I became increasingly interested in getting to know him. I laughed out loud once or twice. He had a dry sense of humor while at the same time an openness, a friendliness. He seemed eager to hear back from me. So he did.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Two days later he told me he would happen to be in my area that night with a couple of his friends, and asked if I would like to meet up with them. My exact words were, “I’m in a what-the-hell kind of mood, so why not?”. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have to admit that it wasn’t an instant love connection. I later found out that up to that evening, he had habitually driven himself crazy getting ready to meet a girl for the first time, only to be disappointed time and again. This time he decided to play it cool to the point of underdressing. So no, I wasn’t exactly bowled over.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Over the next month we emailed back and forth several times a day, and I’ve saved every single one of those precious messages. Sometimes when I’m having a bad day I go back through them and laugh over those early days, the delicate getting-to-know-you dance we performed together. I was still unsure – this was completely new territory for me, and as much as I wanted to be a part of a relationship, there was something to be said for the comfort of knowing what to expect from life. Change is scary.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Still, a month after our first meeting we went on an actual date. After dinner we spent a lot of time talking in the car, as he drove in circles trying to find a parking spot in my hectic neighborhood. Finally, after 45 minutes or so, he decided to give up – he was working on Saturdays at that time and had to be in early the next morning. Wouldn’t know you it, though, that as soon as he decided to simply drop me off, a spot opened up almost directly outside the door leading up to my apartment? Fate’s a funny thing.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There we stood, in that crucial moment. I remember how my heart raced, wondering how this would turn out, not knowing what to do. My palms were sweaty. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Something had changed that evening. He was prepared this time, he was on his game. That plus the deepening of our friendship over the several weeks prior sparked something in me. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After a minute or two of small talk, I knew that it would be up to me to take matters into my own hands. And so I took a deep breath and went in for the kill. Right there in the dingy entryway of my dingy apartment building. Our first kiss.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then the whole world shifted.</div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-48892209883587651632011-02-09T23:24:00.006-05:002011-02-16T09:17:38.831-05:00Fried Pickles<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0CeecT0jfxKjvnfj86uTRJpGX4j6fCVFBDEM5N65gGfnpgTzN1Db_CA1Gf2YfX_LjDgbgstrMo_-IiDhD24piMMwuunSkDbYwwbQAkQ_PY9AIkpQ-Y3YKbGrYh-iu_0sd-dLgP1IDdI/s1600/IMG_1783webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0CeecT0jfxKjvnfj86uTRJpGX4j6fCVFBDEM5N65gGfnpgTzN1Db_CA1Gf2YfX_LjDgbgstrMo_-IiDhD24piMMwuunSkDbYwwbQAkQ_PY9AIkpQ-Y3YKbGrYh-iu_0sd-dLgP1IDdI/s320/IMG_1783webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The funniest things happen when you're on Twitter.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just the other night I was on there, and somehow the topic of Sonic was brought up and the fact that I've never been to one (no, I haven't. A moment of silence, please). And either <a href="http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/">Shell</a> or <a href="http://bkfamily-andthentherewerethree.blogspot.com/">Kim</a> brought up the fried pickles they sell. I think it was Kim. Shell was too busy taunting me with cherry limeade or whatever it is that I've never drank but which is supposedly the nectar of the gods or something but I'm not bitter or anything. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Jealousy aside, my curiosity was piqued. Fried pickles, you say?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I knew we had to be together, fried pickles and I. It was meant to be.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So I started looking through recipes for fried pickles and found one that I liked on <a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Deep-Fried-Dill-Pickles/Detail.aspx">AllRecipes.com</a> - or rather, in the comments section (the first comment). Battering sounded to me like the way to go. So that's what I did. Of course I made my own alterations to the ingredient list - don't I always? </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">They weren't the prettiest things I've ever created but boy were they delicious. So delicious, in fact, that I ate...almost all of them over the course of the day. In other news, I never want to see another fried pickle again. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At least, not until I forget how sick I felt afterwards.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzb2DS97Hy4Voe8eyx88HOfWmOGtXKoPQ2VCqCVwQXGMZrSCUqh32dQc3R8g-31yuoQVXkvhDA_modk-aFthLmWhKmJQkxtlNNnS59CsBK8C-AcB23AYm6MRVAGO9pMW2Y3ZhBxaxveI/s1600/IMG_1780webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAzb2DS97Hy4Voe8eyx88HOfWmOGtXKoPQ2VCqCVwQXGMZrSCUqh32dQc3R8g-31yuoQVXkvhDA_modk-aFthLmWhKmJQkxtlNNnS59CsBK8C-AcB23AYm6MRVAGO9pMW2Y3ZhBxaxveI/s320/IMG_1780webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Fried Pickles</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 eggs</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 cup milk</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 teaspoon hot pepper sauce</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 teaspoon salt</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/4 teaspoon garlic powder</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 cups all-purpose flour</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3/4 teaspoon ground black pepper</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 jar dill pickles (I used 24 oz, you could use more)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 cup vegetable oil for deep frying (Or more - I made sure I had 2 -3 inches of oil in the pan)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Salt and pepper to taste</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pour oil in pan or fryer. Heat to 365 degrees F. (I used my meat thermometer up to 300 degrees, then dropped bits of batter into oil to check how it fried. Maybe not the most scientific way to go about it, but it worked)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While oil is heating, pour pickles into a strainer and drain liquid. Lay pickle spears on paper towels and dry as thoroughly as possible. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In a large bowl, combine wet ingredients with flour and spices. Drop a bit of batter into oil once heated and taste to test spices, adjusting batter as needed.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Dip spears into batter, making sure to coat thoroughly. Carefully drop into hot oil and fry until golden, making sure to turn over to ensure even frying. This will only take a few minutes at a time.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Carefully remove fried pickles from oil and drain on paper towels. Immediately sprinkle with additional salt and pepper, to taste.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next time I'll dredge and fry to instead of battering to see the difference. I was really satisfied with the way these turned out - as is evidenced by the number I ate. Sigh.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Have you ever eaten fried pickles? What did you think?</b><br />
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<b>Sharing with <a href="http://www.houseofhepworths.com/">House of Hepworths</a>, <a href="http://mizhelenscountrycottage.blogspot.com/">Miz Helen's Country Cottage</a>, <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/2011/02/14-steps-to-happier-cooking.html">Designs by Gollum</a>, <a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/2011/02/friday-favorites-week-50.html">Simply Sweet Home</a>, <a href="http://www.504main.com/2011/02/tickled-pink-no-40-just-linkagain.html">504 Main</a>, <a href="http://asouthernfairytale.com/2011/02/13/spicy-garlic-vinaigrette/">A Southern Fairytale</a> & <a href="http://beautyandbedlam.com/">Balancing Beauty and Bedlam</a> - stop on by to see what everyone else has come up with this week! </b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-14397411983131702692011-02-08T15:36:00.001-05:002011-02-08T15:51:01.879-05:00My Top Ten Kitchen Essentials<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Little known fact: I spend a lot of time in the kitchen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh...wait...you knew that? For real? Wow. There I was, thinking I was all mysterious about how I spend my free time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For someone who lives in the kitchen, there are bound to be tools which are absolutely essential to ensuring that your finished product is, well, edible. There are others which are not quite so essential, but they sure do make life easier. In my little old opinion, here's 10 which I know I couldn't live without.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Favorite Non-Essentials:</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) <strong>Stand mixer</strong> - In how many ways has my stand mixer changed my life? How much time have you got to read this? Seriously, I don't know what I did without my girl (Yes, she's a girl. Say something, I dare you). Whether being used to </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/04/beautiful-babka.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">knead dough</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> while I'm doing something else, to mix </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/chocolate-pudding-cake-with-truffle.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ultra thick cake batter</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> which I know my hand-held mixer couldn't manage and <em>then</em> whip up the frosting, or to help bring </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/12/best-chocolate-chip-cookies-ever.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cookie dough</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> together in a flash...my KitchenAid is truly the superstar of my kitchen. Next to me, of course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) <strong>Slow cooker</strong> - Our slow cooker gets used at least 3 times a week, sometimes as many as 4 or 5. Like the stand mixer, the slow cooker has changed my life in many happy ways. There is absolutely nothing like coming home to the smell of a </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/delectable-pot-roast.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">roast</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> or </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/02/beef-stroganoff.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">stew</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> which has been cooking all day long. We've used it to make chicken, meatloaf, pork roast, soup, meatballs. Most recently, Rob made a jambalaya in there which knocked my socks clear off my feet. It was fabulous. Plus it helps keep food warm during parties, which is a huge bonus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) <strong>Food processor</strong> - Where oh where have you been all my life, glorious food processor? I've had mine for just shy of a year and, honestly, I have no idea what I did without it (see a trend here?). From breaking down tons of veggies and fresh bradcrumbs for a vat of </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/homemade-meatballs-and-sauce.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">meatballs and sauce</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to mixing the creamiest </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/divine-deviled-eggs.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">deviled egg filling</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> imaginable to making quick work of chopping jars of olives and shredding cheese for </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/olive-cheese-bread-or-most-powerful.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">olive cheesy bread</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, I've used this baby a lot over the past 52 weeks or so. Oh, and most recently I made a killer </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/using-my-noodle-or-homemade-pasta-is.html"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pasta dough</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> with it. It's so versatile and a total workhorse. I love it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4) <strong>Wooden spoons</strong> - Wait, what? Not another small appliance? Well, no. Not all superstar tools have to be plugged in to be amazing. My wooden spoons have seen me through a lot of cooking projects and, except for the one that broke (<em>RIP old friend</em>), they're going strong. I have around a half dozen and would happily keep buying more and more...only I don't have enough room for them. And I think there's a good possibility that Rob would kill me if I cluttered up the kitchen more than I already have. I'm tempted to move these into the "essential" category - they're just that important to have around, and plastic tools can melt and warp. But they're not really a 100% must-have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5) <strong>Someone to clean it all up</strong> <strong>when you're finished</strong> - This one needs no explanation.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Essentials:</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1) <strong>A Sense of Humor</strong> - Please don't take yourself too seriously in the kitchen. As long as you're abiding by the rules of food safety and not allowing cooking oil to explode into flames, it's all fair game. Laugh at yourself and your mistakes. Burned dinner? Sounds like a good excuse to order takeout!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2) <strong>A Sense of Calm</strong> - BE CALM. Panic hurts people! Panic hurts appliances! Panic possibly hurts entire kitchens and/or homes! If you're in a panic you're that much likelier to cause an accident, and no one needs that. Just relax. It's only cooking. The food will be done when the food is done. And again, if you don't succeed there's always pizza.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3) <strong>Common Sense</strong> - When you read a recipe for the first time, especially if it's not printed in a cookbook (but even if it is), <em>really</em> read it. Does it make sense to you? Do you think there's a typo? Everyone makes mistakes, even recipe writers. Just keep an eye out and you may avoid making the same mistake as someone I know who, due to a problem converting a recipe from a website to their iPhone, added 3 cups of soy sauce to a dish instead of 1/3 cup. Guess what they had for dinner that night...? You can't always trust what's written down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4) <strong>Imagination</strong> - Do you think you could make a dish taste better by adding your own little flare? Do you wonder what this ingredient would taste like if you mixed it with that one? Give it a shot! What do you have to lose? Worst case scenario, it doesn't turn out well. Now, do I suggest experimenting with expensive ingredients? Um, no. Just be fearless when and where you can. You never know - you might make magic happen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5) <strong>Knowledge</strong> - Do you know what to do in case of a cooking oil fire? Do you know how to avoid cross-contamination? When using your knife to slice or chop, what do you do with the fingers of your inactive hand? Should you use a damp dishtowel to grab a pan out of the oven? You need to know the answers to these sorts of questions - ask someone or use the trusty internet. Play it safe.</span><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are there any essentials in YOUR kitchen - the sort of stuff you just can't do without?</span></strong>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-20172718224804431892011-02-06T22:48:00.007-05:002011-02-11T09:54:22.993-05:00Deconstructed Pierogi<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRj4uzedZtdEj-jyPGAab6iOkPPpMLcpiBR1Q6K3JdsMKLLhyphenhyphenbj5LifyVECq6ESWvCi4yWd3pkDx9NDPdo4kJ2fXQ9G3fZMzoP7dDWqN-mOv2a_5mBwUvucQWYGvM0KqlpDb6I0cA7pu8/s1600/IMG_1752webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRj4uzedZtdEj-jyPGAab6iOkPPpMLcpiBR1Q6K3JdsMKLLhyphenhyphenbj5LifyVECq6ESWvCi4yWd3pkDx9NDPdo4kJ2fXQ9G3fZMzoP7dDWqN-mOv2a_5mBwUvucQWYGvM0KqlpDb6I0cA7pu8/s320/IMG_1752webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've been craving comfort food lately - had you noticed? I mean,<a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/using-my-noodle-or-homemade-pasta-is.html"> the homemade pasta</a>, <a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/bolognese-lidia-style.html">the ultra-meaty and rich bolognese</a>,<a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/02/julia-childs-brown-braised-onions.html"> the braised onions</a> to go in my stew. Yeah. Comfort city, kids.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And here's another example of the sort of food that makes me wanna curl up under a Snuggie (yeah, I said Snuggie) with a bowl and dive on in. A really big bowl.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Ever since I was little my mom has made this dish - what's better, it's something <i>her</i> mother made. I love the idea of carrying on tradition like that. Until I started making <a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/04/incredible-homemade-pierogies.html">my own pierogi</a>, the ingredients seemed sort of disjointed to me - I mean, who combines macaroni, cottage cheese and sauteed onions? Um, Polish people who make pierogi, that's who. I had the big revelatory moment while making a batch. One of my favorite meals, one I ask my mom to make on my birthday, is merely deconstructed pierogi. And boy, is it comforting. I could eat it every day.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXLwHNmdCa1FF9sqN1OJvVHyvGyAo0eV__ykPAaTUt-etD_AkBtP4R948uRzwTymfbI58DNXUQPr3umTRvPbcRxtDVZl9S2VI9_ipW1DMCGbHpoish0dbvM-6veHrdHK72Xbl4er7o4Q/s1600/IMG_1754webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXLwHNmdCa1FF9sqN1OJvVHyvGyAo0eV__ykPAaTUt-etD_AkBtP4R948uRzwTymfbI58DNXUQPr3umTRvPbcRxtDVZl9S2VI9_ipW1DMCGbHpoish0dbvM-6veHrdHK72Xbl4er7o4Q/s320/IMG_1754webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seriously. It's ridiculous. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I added a little touch of my own, by the way. The crumbled bacon lends a whole new level of texture and flavor. Of course you don't <i>have</i> to add it - I just happened to have a couple of pieces left over from breakfast the day I made this! </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Deconstructed Pierogi</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 pound marcaroni</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tablespoons butter </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 medium onion, diced</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 cup cottage cheese</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1-2 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled (optional)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Salt and pepper, to taste </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cook macaroni according to package directions and drain. Return to pot.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In saute pan, melt butter. Add diced onions and cook over medium heat until softened and browned. Add to pot of cooked macaroni, along with cottage cheese, salt and pepper. Stir well to combine. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Serve with bits of crumbled bacon on top.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEG_CarT8tULMc4cyhaVqCDYW7aoqz5EAjRDB5hWdpRzniViYG5tDCTiv1TydhWvwXATbmKWZF_S9-68BgQD7Z0soq0XtDsbiz3GTYqHPtxaziYZXk4RxJVDP1Tv9fg3M3Wr9JYpZxoI/s1600/IMG_1757webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibEG_CarT8tULMc4cyhaVqCDYW7aoqz5EAjRDB5hWdpRzniViYG5tDCTiv1TydhWvwXATbmKWZF_S9-68BgQD7Z0soq0XtDsbiz3GTYqHPtxaziYZXk4RxJVDP1Tv9fg3M3Wr9JYpZxoI/s320/IMG_1757webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Stupid easy, isn't it? But the flavors meld so well - I promise you, you can't go wrong with this. It grosses my husband out when I eat it, but he just doesn't know what he's missing.<br />
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<b>What's your favorite comfort food?</b><br />
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<b>Sharing with <a href="http://asouthernfairytale.com/">A Southern Fairytale</a>, <a href="http://www.skiptomylou.org/">Skip to My Lou</a>, <a href="http://wiseanticsoflife.blogspot.com/">Frugal Antics of a Harried Homemaker</a>, <a href="http://beautyandbedlam.com/">Balancing Beauty and Bedlam</a>, <a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/2011/02/tasty-tuesdays-bloghopeasy-spinach-dip.html">33 Shades of Green</a>, <a href="http://allthesmallstuff-cole.blogspot.com/">All The Small Stuff</a>, <a href="http://www.titus2atthewell.com/tempt-my-tummy-tuesday-fiesta-hot-chocolate/">At The Well</a>, <a href="http://www.rookno17.com/2011/02/how-is-csa-box-like-linky-party-little.html">Rook No. 17</a>, <a href="http://www.houseofhepworths.com/">House of Hepworths</a>, <a href="http://mizhelenscountrycottage.blogspot.com/">Miz Helen's Country Cottage</a>, <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/2011/02/14-steps-to-happier-cooking.html">Designs by Gollum</a>, <a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/2011/02/friday-favorites-week-50.html">Simply Sweet Home</a> & <a href="http://www.504main.com/2011/02/tickled-pink-no-40-just-linkagain.html">504 Main</a> - be sure to stop by and check out all of the awesomeness!</b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-34346445562499306472011-02-04T14:09:00.000-05:002011-02-04T14:09:50.456-05:00Spinning My Wheels?<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friends, I need your advice!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See, I've never been what you might call "proficient" when it comes to time management. I'm more the "Ohmygod I have so much to do it's making my brain shut down, time to take a nap and sort it all out later" kind of gal. The "I'll think about that tomorrow", Scarlett O'Hara sort.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I compose to-do lists, but somehow while in the midst of trying to finish my tasks I always get sidetracked by other things that I need to do which didn't make it to my list. So I start doing those things. And by the end of the day I feel as though I've done nothing but spin my wheels. So I eat lots of chocolate in order to soothe my feelings of inadequacy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And never has this problem been so glaringly obvious than in relation to blogging.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no way that a non-blogger could understand everything that goes into running a blog, outside of physically creating posts. And I know that each blogger does things differently, especially in relation to the topics they blog about. For me, most of the time there's the obvious cooking/photo taking/minor photo editing aspect. Then there's the creation of a post. And of course the eating of what I cooked. But what happens after I click "Publish Post"? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Numerous things. I tweet. I Facebook. I link to many memes and make it a point to visit and comment on as many other links as humanly possible (I've blown entire days doing this, truly, but have found some great friends and have drummed up a few readers as well). I email my own commentors and sometimes am lucky enough to start conversations with them. I tell myself that I should put recipes up on <a href="http://thepioneerwoman.com/tasty-kitchen/">Tasty Kitchen</a> but usually forget (I think I've remembered, like, twice). I submit to other food sites. I go through my reader. I visit forums. I tweet some more. I try to remember to Stumble (this is a more recent discovery of mine...late to the party, as always). Now I'm also a contributing blogger for <a href="http://www.aboutone.com/">About One</a> (</span><a href="http://www.aboutone.com/foodie-friday-delicious-focaccia-bread-recipe/"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>my foccacia recipe</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> went up today!) and have another project in the pipeline which I alluded to last month - this is a paying gig but I still don't want to say anything definite because even though I submitted my signed paperwork a couple of days ago I haven't received confirmation of receipt. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then? I tweet some more. Sometimes the Twitter stream is moving so rapidly that I just read tweets. Me and my voyeuristic tendencies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The result: I'm exhausted. I am really 100% loving all of the talking, sharing and communicating which is going on. Not to mention <em>learning.</em> I'm having so much fun, and there's no way I'm giving up this time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I'm tired, too. And the worst part? I feel like all I'm doing is spinning my wheels. If I felt like I was accomplishing something it would be one thing. But all I'm doing is eating more and more chocolate to compensate for feelings of inadequacy because I just can't get it all done. I can't visit all my friends every day. I can't comment on all of my fellow meme linkers' blogs. Sometimes I don't manage to get back to all of my beautiful commentors. I can't churn out brilliant post after brilliant post. There's only so much brilliance in my head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">But still I tippity-type away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don't even get me started on how "real life" may be suffering.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>So I ask you, my wise bloggy friends: Have you been in my shoes? Do you have a blogging schedule? Do certain forms of blog-related activity take precedence over others? Are you a Twaddict? (I don't know if that's a word or if I just made it up right now) Share with me! Or, send chocolate. Preferably the dark variety.</strong></span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-24381849886569855542011-02-01T21:40:00.005-05:002011-02-04T06:56:39.090-05:00Julia Child's Brown Braised Onions<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To me, nothing says "happy warm times when it's cold and yucky outside" like a nice stew. Don't you agree?</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well, I guess it doesn't matter if you agree or not. I mean, I can't imagine that you wouldn't, but that doesn't affect this post.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As I was saying, cold temps = yummy stew. So I made one over the past weekend. Boeuf Bourguignon, in fact. Yeah, I went there. While there are already onions in that and, well, just about any stew, I like a side of braised onions as well. Of course they go super well with the stew, but they make a fabulous little side dish with just about anything as far as I'm concerned. They are sooooo good!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is my variation of Julia Child's brown braised onion recipe. Julia uses only 1/2 cup of liquid, allowing it to completely cook down, and adds a cheesecloth bundled herb bouquet. But I like the additional sauce my variation lends the onions, and I don't often have cheesecloth around to simmer herbs in, so I generally skip it.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xRRDFWeCHhZ_3vKQ36e1pcESbpQuqv4rGzCiqW4yJGWcKl8KI1369ezrFylLMS9A_8Uju8M4ce8up1eNZYHH-wBV5HLA5gAmOokrd4SqB4t_JtbmUreOuGf_aSctjMNqAs8rOXBMUbk/s1600/IMG_1740webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0xRRDFWeCHhZ_3vKQ36e1pcESbpQuqv4rGzCiqW4yJGWcKl8KI1369ezrFylLMS9A_8Uju8M4ce8up1eNZYHH-wBV5HLA5gAmOokrd4SqB4t_JtbmUreOuGf_aSctjMNqAs8rOXBMUbk/s320/IMG_1740webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Did it take me a while to peel all these onions? Why yes. It did. But it was worth it!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tbs of butter gets melted in a pan over medium heat, then 2 tbs of oil are added. The onions go in the pan and are tossed around gently so they can brown.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnegkDh283BgFAlyoMp6nP9VkKc6HveQ482FQJ8gU7C_HzfTL-oSPK1zVw5izq5ovQPtCa-cKZIq3_HqXvCZ1-CXIAw7sjLSvkyAM5-R0HiCwdSmyvU-IzplZav3xfpjJ6M4Ec_3R-1h4/s1600/IMG_1745webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnegkDh283BgFAlyoMp6nP9VkKc6HveQ482FQJ8gU7C_HzfTL-oSPK1zVw5izq5ovQPtCa-cKZIq3_HqXvCZ1-CXIAw7sjLSvkyAM5-R0HiCwdSmyvU-IzplZav3xfpjJ6M4Ec_3R-1h4/s320/IMG_1745webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then the liquids are added. I used beef stock and white wine this time, but red wine adds a great flavor (and color!), and of course you could just double the stock and not use wine at all. The pan is covered and the onions gently simmer in the liquid, on low heat, for 40 minutes. Then the lid is removed and the rest of the liquid simmers until reduced to a nice syrupy consistency.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-txCGAwbiZ6l953W2U68M2Mg77Hu5Dunh6c7x6aXAgrYxRGuJ8QdP64VdoItmpfM_F0Zf1RkSyE6vHcMcgLC0bEGgq0lNxBCNgoEykgS-o9Psc_BQP0OEJKauPvBs8MXU16JbGe2dYfA/s1600/IMG_1763webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-txCGAwbiZ6l953W2U68M2Mg77Hu5Dunh6c7x6aXAgrYxRGuJ8QdP64VdoItmpfM_F0Zf1RkSyE6vHcMcgLC0bEGgq0lNxBCNgoEykgS-o9Psc_BQP0OEJKauPvBs8MXU16JbGe2dYfA/s320/IMG_1763webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Trust me when I say that you will not want to waste a single drop of that rich, flavorful, syrupy sauce. A little salt, a little pepper, and you're all set. Sweet onion heaven.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbocDjdYFJEB1KLLUcKAA4VCpKUadDTHMIFvQISjDw799MbKyxBJc2FGdpyuimZDheKJH4a1O7nJXjrc5Q1VTZpApo_k8EvpNVEpfK02wPaebxQ65RX1cf0CmTIO4Xld0PoWQO7ZW7-FA/s1600/IMG_1764webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbocDjdYFJEB1KLLUcKAA4VCpKUadDTHMIFvQISjDw799MbKyxBJc2FGdpyuimZDheKJH4a1O7nJXjrc5Q1VTZpApo_k8EvpNVEpfK02wPaebxQ65RX1cf0CmTIO4Xld0PoWQO7ZW7-FA/s320/IMG_1764webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seriously, it does not get better than this. It's like candy. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUH6bL4tkIRCJytnsoltHitddjrJYukpiK0hfbZsey6NPyf7AKe13VAajJHq91sitoBLjck6dwILZBS9_UloZ8vyI96LKf0cCTDWhImOTqmy-jqHOUdGldd1X_lHQPlWg3-H75n3u2sM/s1600/IMG_1767webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUH6bL4tkIRCJytnsoltHitddjrJYukpiK0hfbZsey6NPyf7AKe13VAajJHq91sitoBLjck6dwILZBS9_UloZ8vyI96LKf0cCTDWhImOTqmy-jqHOUdGldd1X_lHQPlWg3-H75n3u2sM/s320/IMG_1767webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Now, if you'll excuse me. I have some leftover braised onions to snack on.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Braised Onions</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Around 2 dozen pearl onions, peeled</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tbs butter</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tbs oil <i>(I used EVOO in this case)</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 cup beef stock</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 cup red or white wine <i>(optional - can use 1 cup stock instead)</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Salt and pepper to taste</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Melt butter in large pan over medium heat, then add oil. Pour in onions and toss gently around pan, allowing them to brown. Add liquids and allow to simmer on low, covered, for 40 minutes. Uncover pan and allow liquid to continue reducing until syrupy in consistency. Add salt and pepper to taste.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>What do you like to prepare when it's nasty outside? Soup? Roasts? Stews? What's your favorite?</b><br />
<br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Do you like onions? Because I have another onion-heavy recipe coming up soon! It's, well, to die for.</b><br />
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<b>Sharing with <a href="http://www.somewhatsimple.com/">Somewhat Simple</a>, <a href="http://www.everydaytastes.com/">It's A Keeper</a>, <a href="http://www.houseofhepworths.com/">House of Hepworths</a>, <a href="http://lifeasmom.com/">Life as Mom</a>, <a href="http://mizhelenscountrycottage.blogspot.com/">Miz Helen's Country Cottage</a>, <a href="http://prairiestory.blogspot.com/search/label/Swap">Prairie Story</a>, <a href="http://adventuresofthemichelenafamily.blogspot.com/">A Glimpse Inside</a>, <a href="http://www.504main.com/2011/02/tickled-pink-no-39the-link-up.html">504 Main</a>, <a href="http://tidymom.net/2011/lightscoop-review-giveaway/">Tidy Mom</a>, <a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/">Simply Sweet Home</a> & <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/">Designs by Gollum</a> - stop by and see what others are creating! </b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-38886847984074397742011-01-29T15:06:00.006-05:002011-02-03T10:39:51.667-05:00Using My Noodle, or, Homemade Pasta is Delicious<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Several days ago, I told you all about <a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/bolognese-lidia-style.html">Lidia Bastianich's bolognese recipe</a>. Her delicious, decadent (can a pasta sauce BE decadent? Uh, yes it can), rich and satisfying bolognese. It should be against the law but happily, it is not.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I knew that such a special sauce deserved a special accompaniment, aka homemade pasta. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Would store-bought dried pasta be just as good? Yes. I am 150% certain that it would (even if I hadn't eaten leftovers with dried pasta I'd still be certain of this). I just figured at the time that if I was diving in, I might as well go off the deep end. It's how I roll, in case you didn't already know.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I had tried in the past to make my own pasta but it was never much fun. As much as I adore the <i>idea</i> of my Kitchenaid pasta attachment...we've never been good friends. I think this comes from the fact that I can never seem to keep the noodles from sticking together without drenching them with flour as they're being extruded and basically making a big fat floury mess. I don't know. It just never worked well for me.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But then. Oh, then. Santa brought me a shiny pasta machine for Christmas!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8v2yyAlOfqTWQ7l9levkokHEGXIre1QZ_eFkJ6gk40mRGJo3DqBZ-FjqXxAvFHPfLW6LoQrK95yyIHwyVwZYJKaG6avlmK9yQBWY4inwcMDPn-kuxaK-pH7FQeceSrsah4eWMeZoUGw/s1600/IMG_1694webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8v2yyAlOfqTWQ7l9levkokHEGXIre1QZ_eFkJ6gk40mRGJo3DqBZ-FjqXxAvFHPfLW6LoQrK95yyIHwyVwZYJKaG6avlmK9yQBWY4inwcMDPn-kuxaK-pH7FQeceSrsah4eWMeZoUGw/s320/IMG_1694webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Seriously. No one should ever be as excited about something without diamonds in it as I was about this pasta machine. Although it is kinda shiny...</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway, I figured that if I was making Lidia's bolgonese, I might as well use Lidia's recipe for homemade pasta as well! So I took her recipe for homemade tagliatelle...</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>3 cups all-purpose flour (plus more as needed)</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>3 large, cold eggs</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>3 large, cold egg yolks</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>3 tbs extra-virgin olive oil</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>2 tbs ice water (plus more as needed)</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">...and followed her instructions. The flour went into my food processor and was pulsed a few times to aerate. My wet ingredients were then mixed in a separate measuring cup and, with the processor running, I poured them through the feed tube and processed until the dough came together and just about cleared the sides of the bowl.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EnAbIVVyZaGvJkZ0WC3Yr7q3HbR7WukP3HXrZtH0GbDQlyvNBq3T7l9FvvfZA5BoTP2BUwuR1hwUJSXRt_uihsiUNLwMrBUZHb-GspTvhk-WPaZPGMBHBhJzj5e47FMqrAgIvAG33Jw/s1600/IMG_1684webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_EnAbIVVyZaGvJkZ0WC3Yr7q3HbR7WukP3HXrZtH0GbDQlyvNBq3T7l9FvvfZA5BoTP2BUwuR1hwUJSXRt_uihsiUNLwMrBUZHb-GspTvhk-WPaZPGMBHBhJzj5e47FMqrAgIvAG33Jw/s320/IMG_1684webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The dough was a bit too wet, though, so when I emptied it onto my (clean!) counter, I added a bit more flour and kneaded it in for a few minutes until the dough was smooth.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkiZZ5Dn8kL-V7k4kb1IcIOEJtGjvMpha57UeZDqRFjZSn2OMmxYL1yLp0cL0iFmTrsKCc9IvNf1YMgRIDK-ikIlwqGFqXG1nmiCh1LMVVhm1L6xYHuwA8yanTeFdsw12QOuzGcJCmbo/s1600/IMG_1685webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJkiZZ5Dn8kL-V7k4kb1IcIOEJtGjvMpha57UeZDqRFjZSn2OMmxYL1yLp0cL0iFmTrsKCc9IvNf1YMgRIDK-ikIlwqGFqXG1nmiCh1LMVVhm1L6xYHuwA8yanTeFdsw12QOuzGcJCmbo/s320/IMG_1685webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pretty. Then the dough was wrapped in plastic and allowed to rest for 30 minutes (a little more, actually - remember I had that sauce taking up all of my attention, too!). At this point the dough can be left in the fridge for a day or frozen for "a month or more", according to Lidia - just defrost in the fridge and allow to return to room temp before rolling.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And speaking of rolling...I divided the dough into 6 pieces and floured each piece generously before starting the rolling process.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqk3Jmy3pohHH504toxs4AAz0pM0YaPHIPlmDjDeiCVG3WI057xQ4XIT6Nbu3dTKDDGdjDKh3lHisy99IYhm_8QIoD8VD4AwwLyenqfHaAnZKeqS2e8dTaVE_unx9VdEdprV_WND7vaI/s1600/IMG_1693webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqk3Jmy3pohHH504toxs4AAz0pM0YaPHIPlmDjDeiCVG3WI057xQ4XIT6Nbu3dTKDDGdjDKh3lHisy99IYhm_8QIoD8VD4AwwLyenqfHaAnZKeqS2e8dTaVE_unx9VdEdprV_WND7vaI/s320/IMG_1693webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rolling the dough is my favorite part, and I'm well aware of how dorky I sound when I say that. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">You start with the machine on its highest setting - in this case, level 7. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWm5VK5OkGt55uOfQHsxyu3KEe0Z0r0JcXGDsbrQPRVCWxgad8W-f5FIQTdRImepA9cacEGK1bvI0-PrkXhTtTYLvUAgg49FcRhNBLlWztUXftIagbYziA0xuDX4WCpi279J7vexYnxsY/s1600/IMG_1699webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWm5VK5OkGt55uOfQHsxyu3KEe0Z0r0JcXGDsbrQPRVCWxgad8W-f5FIQTdRImepA9cacEGK1bvI0-PrkXhTtTYLvUAgg49FcRhNBLlWztUXftIagbYziA0xuDX4WCpi279J7vexYnxsY/s320/IMG_1699webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Roll the dough through a few times to get it ready to be rolled more thinly. Then just turn the knob down one number and re-roll. Repeat this step until you're at your desired thinness. I usually stop at 3 - I like a little bite to my pasta. But that's up to you - experiment as you will.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QlU7C9gRyMz7YN2rDUa486ysXOzKboennnlPApX4oZ8rQp30pD0ZK7RkFbqTGXQVAYZEpHE0mBSdHChYcTorabZCdA4jJrQCgUDH7Oy7WNHhGfg-kP0ylBN89UXMBlF0wVZuYf6E_bI/s1600/IMG_1706webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5QlU7C9gRyMz7YN2rDUa486ysXOzKboennnlPApX4oZ8rQp30pD0ZK7RkFbqTGXQVAYZEpHE0mBSdHChYcTorabZCdA4jJrQCgUDH7Oy7WNHhGfg-kP0ylBN89UXMBlF0wVZuYf6E_bI/s320/IMG_1706webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As each sheet is finished rolling I lay it out over a dish towel and allow it to dry a little bit in order to make the cutting process easier. Now, I have both spaghetti and fettuccine cutters on my machine and in this case I used the fettuccine cutters. But you could just as easily fold the pasta sheets into thirds or fourths, then cut into strips and shake them out when finished. Either way, when pasta is cut it's important to toss the noodles with a bit of flour to ensure that they don't stick together. Just give them a shake to remove excess flour before putting them in your boiling water. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Fresh pasta doesn't require much cooking time - a few minutes should do. I test frequently to make sure I don't cook it into mush.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, in case you didn't already know this: Making fresh pasta takes time. But anyone who has ever had the chance to eat fresh pasta will tell you, the difference is mind-blowing. The texture and flavor exists in a world of its own. Is it as perfectly uniform as store-bought fresh or dried pasta? No. But that's part of the fun. Plus there's the knowledge that your finished product contains good, fresh ingredients and isn't concealing any secrets - which of course is the point of all home cooking, right? </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTED9VWvqpOxZlHDao45ZMiPpf7WcL3kJcxlbu0qOE5JrAjEpTOokp9UjC3terOs1V5zsOrnD3eI-FN_TDjDWGyaWDkYmHDzXeY-fA0x6Pi1JM2_uwWL4ZiemPGVtNLj_T9sq8ji4p_VQ/s1600/IMG_1727webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTED9VWvqpOxZlHDao45ZMiPpf7WcL3kJcxlbu0qOE5JrAjEpTOokp9UjC3terOs1V5zsOrnD3eI-FN_TDjDWGyaWDkYmHDzXeY-fA0x6Pi1JM2_uwWL4ZiemPGVtNLj_T9sq8ji4p_VQ/s320/IMG_1727webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yummy.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Have you ever made fresh pasta by hand? How did it turn out? If not, do you think you'd be interested in trying this yourself?</b><br />
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<b>Sharing with <a href="http://www.thegirlcreative.com/2011/01/just-something-i-whipped-up.html">The Girl Creative</a>, <a href="http://asouthernfairytale.com/2011/01/31/souper-mouthwatering-monday">A Southern Fairytale</a>, <a href="http://www.blessedwithgrace.net/category/tempt-my-tummy-tuesday/">Blessed With Grace</a>, <a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/2011/02/tasty-tuesdays-bloghopricotta-gnocchi.html">33 Shades of Green</a>, <a href="http://beautyandbedlam.com/">Balancing Beauty and Bedlam</a>, <a href="http://www.somewhatsimple.com/">Somewhat Simple</a>, <a href="http://www.everydaytastes.com/">It's a Keeper</a>, <a href="http://www.houseofhepworths.com/">House of Hepworths</a>, <a href="http://lifeasmom.com/">Life as Mom</a>, <a href="http://mizhelenscountrycottage.blogspot.com/">Miz Helen's Country Cottage</a>, <a href="http://prairiestory.blogspot.com/search/label/Swap">Prairie Story</a>, <a href="http://www.spain-in-iowa.com/2011/02/simple-lives-thursday-29th-edition">Simple Lives Thursday</a> & <a href="http://adventuresofthemichelenafamily.blogspot.com/">A Glimpse Inside</a> - come on over and see what everyone else has been creating! </b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-59458272800580445552011-01-27T14:33:00.000-05:002011-01-27T14:33:34.289-05:00Writer's Workshop: Left Out<a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Mama's Losin' It" src="http://i913.photobucket.com/albums/ac331/mamakatslosinit/workshop-button-1.png" /></a><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mama Kat's prompt #3: Describe a time when you felt left out. </span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 6 years old and in 1st grade. The girl who was my best friend through kindergarten didn't invite me to her birthday party. I just found out that all the other girls got an invitation but me. I sit down in the schoolyard one morning and cry, asking her why I wasn't invited. Why we're not friends anymore. I need to know - because in my head, we're<i> still</i> friends. I need to know when she decided that things were different, why she didn't like me anymore. But she walks away. I call her name, tears clouding my vision. She keeps walking.</span><br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 10 and already the girls are talking about who has and who hasn't kissed a boy yet. They already know all sorts of words I've never heard before. The terminology alludes me, as much as I try to keep up. They act unaffected, comparing numbers of kissing conquests as easily as they used to compare the number of Barbies or She-Ra dolls they owned. Either way, I know I've never kissed a boy and what's worse, they know it too.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 12 and the only reason any boys hang out with me is because they want to hang out with my best friend (<a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/12/this-one-time-in-school-yard.html">the crazy one</a>). Don't they know me? Don't they know all of the cool things about me? How, one day, they may actually want to hang out with a smart (if slightly awkward) girl? I hate these boys, I really do. They're not nice to me. But I want to be cool, so much so that I swallow my pride again and again just to hang out with the cool kids.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 16 and the only girl I know not going to the Junior Prom. I go to the movies and Olive Garden with my Mom instead. I sit in school the following Monday, listening to the stories, eventually oohing and aahing over the pictures as they get developed (ahh, the days before digital photography). I try to be a good sport and take a genuine interest in my friends' experiences, but envy eats my heart. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 20-going-on-21 and I still haven't been kissed. I try not to tell anyone. It's too embarrassing. I feel ashamed for reasons I can't even describe to this day.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm 25 and I've only been on a few dates in my life. Everyone I know is seeing someone, is living with someone, is married, has years of experience to fall back on. I've never had a boyfriend. The kissing thing has been rectified, though. But that's it. A well-meaning friend of a friend gently asks me when I'm going to start dating. As if it's that easy. I feel left out of life.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Of course, things changed. It may have taken me a little longer than some, but things did get better. And now here I am, 31 years old, looking back over all these years of pain and awkwardness. Of feeling left out.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Have I learned anything from that feeling? Well, I'd like to think that it's taught me a deeper level of compassion. It has taught me to include others, especially those who appear to be hanging around on the fringe, waiting for someone to be friendly towards them. People who have a whole world of thoughts and experiences inside them, just waiting to be shared if only someone would give them a chance.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So do I always live up to these high ideals for myself? Am I, like, the Mother Theresa of inclusiveness? No, not always - sometimes feeling included is so wonderful, I forget how it feels on the other side of things. It's very easy to forget when you're in the moment. All I can do is work on being more mindful. It doesn't hurt to make sure that someone isn't going through the same stuff we've all gone through at one point or another - feeling left out or left behind. And maybe one day they'll pay it forward by remembering that kindness and extending the same courtesy to someone else. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After all, like they say, a candle doesn't lose anything by lighting another candle. Or something like that.</div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-35618890962524165422011-01-26T16:01:00.001-05:002011-01-26T16:07:55.851-05:00Bliss at Home '11<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Welcome, lovers of bliss! It's a bummer that we weren't able to travel to Blissdom '11, isn't it? But all is not lost - we can network and have a good time from the comfort of our own home, in our jammies if we feel like it. Hence my excitement over <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#%21/BlissAtHome"> Bliss at Home '11</a>!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Because let me tell you...I big puffy pink heart my jammies. To the point where I rarely wear anything else around the house. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My name is Jen, and this is my corner of Bloggyland. Take off your shoes, put on your stretchy pants and get comfy. I love to write about cooking food, eating food, and then feeling bad about eating so much food. Oh, and other stuff, too. Like my family, my home and my horribly embarrassing tendency to do embarrassing things. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What are some of my favorite posts, you ask? Well, I'm happy to share them with you!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2067060644"><br />
</a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/03/chocolate-pudding-cake-with-truffle.html">The Greatest Chocolate Cake Ever</a> - Seriously, visit at your own risk. And the risk of your pants suddenly tightening. Which is why I recommended the stretchy pants earlier.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-was-baby-beauty-queen.html">A Toddler Without A Tiara </a>- Please, come revel in one of the most painful memories of my life. I beg you.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2067060649"><br />
</a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/02/misadventures-my-worst-day-ever.html">The Worst Day of My Life</a> - Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. It was epic. My mom still pees her pants laughing over it.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2067060653"><br />
</a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/chicken-tikka-masala.html">Chicken Tikka Masala</a> and <a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2011/01/garlicky-grilled-naan.html">Grilled Naan</a> - They go so well together. Like peanut butter and jelly or chocolate and just about anything else.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lots of exciting things are going to be happening soon, like the launching of my new site and a new series entitled <b>Cooking Basics</b>, where I'll be going step-by-step through basic cooking techniques and then building recipes using them. I really hope you'll be joining me for all the fun there.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I can't wait to meet all you fabulous home Blissers! If you stop by for a visit, be sure to leave me a comment and let me know you were here so I can swing by and say hi!</div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-16313545231469025492011-01-23T20:26:00.006-05:002011-01-28T06:29:12.638-05:00Bolognese, Lidia Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-ppYNdvfNGmQhOXAdayvrH784bWLSP_pMU8gI-M4ezPJVAqyu9bFUrCKJkkio7WDagwSCXQaKvuiL_UVN6KO-IiBE_4TGRefpam3_xaP5UrrrGc1DbvUP9p4o9Lvc7CZuBg-GcITbcY/s1600/IMG_1734webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF-ppYNdvfNGmQhOXAdayvrH784bWLSP_pMU8gI-M4ezPJVAqyu9bFUrCKJkkio7WDagwSCXQaKvuiL_UVN6KO-IiBE_4TGRefpam3_xaP5UrrrGc1DbvUP9p4o9Lvc7CZuBg-GcITbcY/s320/IMG_1734webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Bolognese. The very name conjures up all sorts of happy thoughts for me. For years now I've been making </span><a href="http://misadventuresofmrsb.blogspot.com/2010/04/bolognese-redux-part-i.html"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">this version</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">, and have been totally happy with it. It's stupid delicious, after all. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">However, I received a copy of Lidia Bastianich's </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Lidia-Cooks-Heart-Italy-Regional/dp/0307267512/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1295828303&sr=1-1"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lidia Cooks From The Heart of Italy</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> for my birthday and have been dying to cook my way through it ever since. This bolognese is one of the basic recipes at the back of the book and it looked too good to not try.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There's no denying that the creation of a good, full-bodied bolognese takes time. Because it does. It's a real labor of love. But this recipe makes more than enough for one or even two meals, so you can cook your little heart out one day and have yummy bolognese for another night. It's perfect for freezer cooking!</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The flavors in this sauce are so complex and well-developed. It's rich and satisfying, and worth every minute of prep and cooking time.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabWNBip22ANBthnr_QKBS2OzTwzheDPh-GelUdt8sb8DglruYvv0p9q0_iPSoFsVTBYoau0A3Ri2grnx-cJdov_D0bj40nFFH_UohSB-D0rysb2r3d1J2Bz6vOVc7zlm0y9T4OZoiXxc/s1600/IMG_1648webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhabWNBip22ANBthnr_QKBS2OzTwzheDPh-GelUdt8sb8DglruYvv0p9q0_iPSoFsVTBYoau0A3Ri2grnx-cJdov_D0bj40nFFH_UohSB-D0rysb2r3d1J2Bz6vOVc7zlm0y9T4OZoiXxc/s320/IMG_1648webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 lbs ground beef</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 lbs ground pork</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 cups dry white wine</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tbs extra virgin olive oil </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">6 oz bacon or pancetta</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">5 garlic cloves</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 medium onions, finely chopped</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 large carrot, shredded</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 large celery stalks, finely chopped</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 tsp kosher salt</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 cups red wine</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tbs tomato paste</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 cups crushed tomatoes</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">8-10 cups hot vegetable stock or water </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Freshly ground black pepper to taste</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In a large bowl, pour 2 cups white wine over ground meats and, using your fingers <i>(or a potato masher, as I did)</i>, mix so meat is moistened with wine. Set aside.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In food processor, process bacon or pancetta and garlic into a smooth paste. Heat olive oil over medium heat and add this paste. Break apart and allow to cook for 3-5 minutes, stirring frequently, until fat is rendered and paste begins to brown slightly. Add onions and sweat for several minutes. Add carrots and celery and cook, stirring, for 5 minutes, until vegetables soften and turn a golden color. </span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Turn heat up to medium high. Push vegetables to one side of pot <i>(or pour into a separate bowl, which I did)</i> and add meat to pot, then sprinkle with salt. Allow meat to brown on bottom, then mix in vegetables. Liquids will totally cover the meat/vegetables, so allow to cook down for 30-45 minutes, stirring occasionally to prevent burning and lowering heat if necessary.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pour in red wine and cook until wine evaporates. Stir in tomato paste and allow to brown for a few minutes. Pour in crushed tomatoes, then swish can out with one cup of vegetable stock and pour that in as well. Simmer until liquid no longer covers meat. At this point, add vegetable stock in batches - pour in enough to cover meat, around two cups at a time, and simmer until meat is no longer covered. This entire process will probably take between one and two hours.</span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7cO9Pv7lMt8mzQd-gkCajYFKigEDUF2jByTHxBSWIC72if9pbah0xF4YsWP5frsENzO-AhLVeg1o9iShzehKB1ZiJ0-kKOLOnEL6RoTm_wwG_Cacgd6CYF5eP5_46tGwX8bL6z1cVq4/s1600/IMG_1739webcopy+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM7cO9Pv7lMt8mzQd-gkCajYFKigEDUF2jByTHxBSWIC72if9pbah0xF4YsWP5frsENzO-AhLVeg1o9iShzehKB1ZiJ0-kKOLOnEL6RoTm_wwG_Cacgd6CYF5eP5_46tGwX8bL6z1cVq4/s320/IMG_1739webcopy+copy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span id="goog_1922947625"></span><span id="goog_1922947626"></span></span><br />
<span id="goog_1922947625" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So...like I said...a labor of love. But good golly, is it worth it. You'll want to dive right in a bathe in this sauce, I promise you. We decided out of the two bolognese sauces I've made (three, actually, if you count Alton Brown's which I only made one time), Lidia's bolognese is superior. This is the sauce I'll be making from here on out. And as frequently as possible.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span id="goog_1922947625" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And for the record...the fettucine in the picture is homemade. But that's another post... </span><span id="goog_1922947626"></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp65AIDwI-riNPy0FxStnXlNPCUKkkVCSk13qGzkOLTNvcC2s7KE4BcWICEjUgt7mzq0ndSk4GhjJL5UqBlvENiSPXvjBLfsPXiC22Pygcl8-nIT5NeLaEKufi4UAKeUwxmh6iqih4tTw/s1600/IMG_1736webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp65AIDwI-riNPy0FxStnXlNPCUKkkVCSk13qGzkOLTNvcC2s7KE4BcWICEjUgt7mzq0ndSk4GhjJL5UqBlvENiSPXvjBLfsPXiC22Pygcl8-nIT5NeLaEKufi4UAKeUwxmh6iqih4tTw/s320/IMG_1736webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Sharing with </b></span><a href="http://asouthernfairytale.com/2011/01/24/mindys-tortilla-soup/"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>A Southern Fairytale</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>, </b></span><a href="http://www.skiptomylou.org/"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Skip To My Lou</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>, </b></span><a href="http://messhalltobistro.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-tuesday-linky.html"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>From Mess Hall to Bistro</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>, </b></span><a href="http://33shadesofgreen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tasty-tuesdays-bloghoproasted-beet.html"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>33 Shades of Green</b></span></a>, <a href="http://beautyandbedlam.com/"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Balancing Beauty and Bedlam</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>, <a href="http://www.blessedwithgrace.net/category/tempt-my-tummy-tuesday/">Blessed with Grace</a>, </b></span><a href="http://allthesmallstuff-cole.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesdays-at-table-crispy-chorizo.html"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>All the Small Stuff</b></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>, <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/">Designs by Gollum</a>, <a href="http://www.504main.com/2011/01/tickled-pink-no-38part-1just-linky.html">504 Main</a>, <a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/">Simply Sweet Home</a> & <a href="http://tidymom.net/2011/cupcake-carriers/">Tidy Mom</a> - drop by and pick up some great recipe ideas!</b></span><br />
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-40110309354654522342011-01-22T19:12:00.000-05:002011-01-22T19:12:23.524-05:00On The Phone With Dad: Seven Dollars<i>This is a verbatim transcript of a recent conversation with my father.</i><br />
<br />
<i>I am on the train. My phone rings.</i><br />
<br />
Me: "Hello?"<br />
<br />
Dad: "The bill is thirty-five dollars. What's the tip?" <i>(notice the lack of a "hi, how ya doin?" there)</i><br />
<br />
Me: "Seven dollars."<br />
<br />
Dad: "Seven dollars?"<br />
<br />
Me: "Seven."<br />
<br />
Dad: "I'll give her 10. Okay, honey, thank you."<br />
<br />
Me: "You're welcome."<br />
<br />
Dad: "Don't tell anyone about this."<br />
<br />
Me: "Okay, I won't."<br />
<br />
Dad: "Unless it's in the book you write about me."<br />
<br />
Me: "Okay, Dad."<br />
<br />
<i>*click*</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>Seriously. I couldn't make this up. </i><i><br />
</i>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-84858046410167488432011-01-20T22:17:00.002-05:002011-01-25T09:56:06.488-05:00Cinnamon Raisin Bread<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><br />
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<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oOFWXIpSKcI8TCP1BKsGfwsY-B26dF6IQsaXCXPJTdINKQKjhMv6qtTj0AAKP3NEAQzk7Edgmod-vATPQyiZ9fxO3N3xxaSzMN_gN7PHNaTiDIvDFB4tYOVtCxqN2SBNG3-SmBFtsG4/s1600/IMG_1641webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oOFWXIpSKcI8TCP1BKsGfwsY-B26dF6IQsaXCXPJTdINKQKjhMv6qtTj0AAKP3NEAQzk7Edgmod-vATPQyiZ9fxO3N3xxaSzMN_gN7PHNaTiDIvDFB4tYOVtCxqN2SBNG3-SmBFtsG4/s320/IMG_1641webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Cinnamon raisin bread. Three words which work so beautifully together. Three words which have comprised my breakfast all this past week. And a snack as I was writing this post. Because how can you mess around with pictures of a food you happen to enjoy...highly...without eating said food which you know is just sitting in your freezer, a mere 30 microwaved seconds away from edible bliss? How?<br />
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You can't. That's how.<br />
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Anyway, I saw this recipe over at <a href="http://food-baby.blogspot.com/">Food.Baby</a> and I knew I had to give it a shot. You see, cinnamon raisin bread is my favorite bread. of. all. time. When I was little, it was always such a treat to stay at my aunt's house and eat cinnamon toast in the morning. It was like some sort of luxury item to my young white bread self. The love affair continues to this day.<br />
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The only way I like it any better is with a snowy white vanilla glaze on top, which I first tasted when I visited Amish country with my family...and lemme tell ya, Rob and I are spending a weekend there next month, which means I'm buying and freezing at least two loaves. And some Shoo Fly Pie, but that's another story.<br />
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I made a few alterations to the original recipe, which you can find <a href="http://food-baby.blogspot.com/2010/06/my-tuesday-with-dorie-raisin-swirl.html">here</a>. I held a few optional ingredients back, used soy milk (it worked beautifully!), and altered the amounts of ingredients in the swirl. The original amounts did not sound like enough to me - in fact, I feel like it could use even more next time! <br />
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To make the dough, warm milk is combined with a pinch of sugar and some yeast, then left to get moist and well-acquainted. In the meantime, more warm milk is mixed with butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla and salt. The yeast mixture is added, and then flour. The dough is left to rise for 90 minutes.<br />
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Once risen, it was dumped unceremoniously onto my flour-dusted counter.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2Lj7geDGXX8biSlUlhV44iFTvoHG-87NxHKbcvRI1hyWO98SxRGCZhpPeTEvo3gwHogg39tLgl1jVWpBGHAq_4n55DxB6GMtQQT-G1WrXvCud2vVukCsDBUnSPRo1zEj87ptynejAA8/s1600/IMG_1615webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt2Lj7geDGXX8biSlUlhV44iFTvoHG-87NxHKbcvRI1hyWO98SxRGCZhpPeTEvo3gwHogg39tLgl1jVWpBGHAq_4n55DxB6GMtQQT-G1WrXvCud2vVukCsDBUnSPRo1zEj87ptynejAA8/s320/IMG_1615webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Rolled out, it was...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pvPouQPCGeNdKJStoRJOtn0x9rf23kmLYLJ6iv_a6m42VqXAfFEJOcVNd6tG-E2JeF6eBXO3v1W7tJV_gByu_tgPADqLZUgV825ibtKBk2pSkqqfc5zfypZNrmvSIP6iEPAwBi_vZn4/s1600/IMG_1619webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0pvPouQPCGeNdKJStoRJOtn0x9rf23kmLYLJ6iv_a6m42VqXAfFEJOcVNd6tG-E2JeF6eBXO3v1W7tJV_gByu_tgPADqLZUgV825ibtKBk2pSkqqfc5zfypZNrmvSIP6iEPAwBi_vZn4/s320/IMG_1619webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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...into a rough rectangle.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_D2i9pXybOt0SbsVJaMAgdPQoIuHUROyzHIf9rreMA7YJfznaZwjbz8MgntUJEuB1lU-xQfuNFa1esytrc0ZetjIu7Qx810qguCyzqHe2hxapFyWg5l8pzdZOlfMAp57IcIa-oevKYM/s1600/IMG_1620webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_D2i9pXybOt0SbsVJaMAgdPQoIuHUROyzHIf9rreMA7YJfznaZwjbz8MgntUJEuB1lU-xQfuNFa1esytrc0ZetjIu7Qx810qguCyzqHe2hxapFyWg5l8pzdZOlfMAp57IcIa-oevKYM/s320/IMG_1620webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I said rough. Don't judge me.<br />
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The dough is spread with butter and sprinkled with sugar, cinnamon and raisins. You can use regular or golden raisins, as long as they've been steamed or soaked til plump, then dried well.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_ys3IKVlx9-5mDiRZFjmClDAJqznPMaaGGcqhNEWlZ9I5WwG9HavdyJEtKT1KmtFQi2QoVUmvc6_AnDcL2yh3aA8dVP5Y_8CK1hLqtIP5y588T7TxS_pJ1CUMMTRprDS2fhgbiudUik/s1600/IMG_1624webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR_ys3IKVlx9-5mDiRZFjmClDAJqznPMaaGGcqhNEWlZ9I5WwG9HavdyJEtKT1KmtFQi2QoVUmvc6_AnDcL2yh3aA8dVP5Y_8CK1hLqtIP5y588T7TxS_pJ1CUMMTRprDS2fhgbiudUik/s320/IMG_1624webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Starting from one of the short ends, roll the dough firmly.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVW-L84B_haF6lquAUpV62k0j4G62LEerevul5GWzBruV_G2lyN0hgW0vbC99wzrAe1eeNwWNwekSiSKkFwHl4E-npXPdWstRj1FnWUSIxa9vB6YmOFNbAvLvC64TPrzylet71p_tpV8/s1600/IMG_1625webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVW-L84B_haF6lquAUpV62k0j4G62LEerevul5GWzBruV_G2lyN0hgW0vbC99wzrAe1eeNwWNwekSiSKkFwHl4E-npXPdWstRj1FnWUSIxa9vB6YmOFNbAvLvC64TPrzylet71p_tpV8/s320/IMG_1625webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
And, if you're me, you'll realize when it's time to tuck the ends under and plop into the greased loaf pan that you rolled the dough into far too large a rectangle. You'll end up creating a fat worm shape. And then tell your husband that this is going to be the ugliest bread ever.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfwGC2XJABpNSJ8swTQr4McVRZKpIYQGKO7aPQOCkOmEpZ2FUUYZ_xGpXWtf16nty3aFwUMxINe2YMXDTyamn2Tg87KX82po80uYdDOVaq0pghp02M7pJx7XegF2dLhIhx4yQIxFUI0Q/s1600/IMG_1627webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZfwGC2XJABpNSJ8swTQr4McVRZKpIYQGKO7aPQOCkOmEpZ2FUUYZ_xGpXWtf16nty3aFwUMxINe2YMXDTyamn2Tg87KX82po80uYdDOVaq0pghp02M7pJx7XegF2dLhIhx4yQIxFUI0Q/s320/IMG_1627webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Allow it to rise, loosely covered, for 45 minutes. And be even more certain of the bread's ugliness.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh7euWUUcoKWCbVJD-y5VPMGVFbv0VGrJaRSNd1XjMEYUAStR4zQOreNkaYbs3o00MvYoLBmCkdIogiLvrYpOo8egIoITIhO5FOGoqIW_hUzIF2kJ17LpmAOl_phiuX5ceCyTvJn6zHw/s1600/IMG_1628webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSh7euWUUcoKWCbVJD-y5VPMGVFbv0VGrJaRSNd1XjMEYUAStR4zQOreNkaYbs3o00MvYoLBmCkdIogiLvrYpOo8egIoITIhO5FOGoqIW_hUzIF2kJ17LpmAOl_phiuX5ceCyTvJn6zHw/s320/IMG_1628webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Bake it for 45 minutes, unmold after 5, and you have...THIS!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0krxxbBdYQqsp3S3TNTzyWb48rHRaEBJXExrY27MdlL7hEMt1R6TehBjmPgiulJIzjDscogCRk0mriHGKOUf8DgJdp-5BYTKU9_d2UfNysfKolkf1ByWBAEjDBpJrpTgyCU4nT2w8Znc/s1600/IMG_1634webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0krxxbBdYQqsp3S3TNTzyWb48rHRaEBJXExrY27MdlL7hEMt1R6TehBjmPgiulJIzjDscogCRk0mriHGKOUf8DgJdp-5BYTKU9_d2UfNysfKolkf1ByWBAEjDBpJrpTgyCU4nT2w8Znc/s320/IMG_1634webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Not the prettiest shaped bread, for sure...but close enough for jazz, as they say.<br />
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It was a real act of will, waiting for this to cool in order to cut into it. But it was worth every tortured second. A little bit of buttery goodness on top...and I'm in heaven, folks. Heaven.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSkhRvBEMUgS85ptJLGRK5snXNEXzhYj9lRuaj6WXVjhRNgEBTAavUj0DRIkyT0Vo8XXqfLku5jR0fiKRCka9QU__SNic_H1jSNnJ0sjJaOgYSt1l4YuXuG6A8e2EnlbhkMP2z5O5DQk/s1600/IMG_1644webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifSkhRvBEMUgS85ptJLGRK5snXNEXzhYj9lRuaj6WXVjhRNgEBTAavUj0DRIkyT0Vo8XXqfLku5jR0fiKRCka9QU__SNic_H1jSNnJ0sjJaOgYSt1l4YuXuG6A8e2EnlbhkMP2z5O5DQk/s320/IMG_1644webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Of course, it's great without the butter as well. It's just pretty much awesome all over the place.<br />
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In order to not have it go stale before I enjoyed every last crumb, I sliced it up and froze the slices on a cookie sheet. Once they were frozen they were placed in a large ziploc bag, left in a sacred corner of the freezer, and have been enjoyed daily ever since, a slice with morning coffee here, a slice while watching trash TV there.<br />
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This may just become a Sunday ritual for me.<br />
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<b>Bread:</b><br />
2 1/4 teaspoons (1 packet) active dry yeast<br />
1/4 cup sugar, plus a pinch<br />
1 1/4 cups whole milk, heated between 110 - 120 degrees F <i>(I used soy!)</i><br />
1/2 stick (4 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature<br />
3/4 teaspoon salt<br />
1 large egg<br />
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract<br />
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3 3/4 to 4 cups all-purpose flour</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Cinnamon Swirl:</b><br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tablespoons white sugar</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 tablespoons light brown sugar<br />
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon<br />
1 cup raisins (dark or golden)<br />
3 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br />
In a small bowl, combine the yeast, pinch of sugar and 1/4 cup of warm milk. Cover and allow to moisten (around 3 minutes).<br />
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Fit your stand mixer with the paddle attachment. Combine remaining cup of milk, butter and sugar. Mix for a minute or so. Add egg, salt and vanilla. Mix for another minute. Add yeast mixture and, you guess it...mix it in.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Turn the mixer off! before adding 2 3/4 cups of flour. Mix on low until flour is mixed in. Switch from paddle attachment to dough hook. Add another cup of flour and mix on medium speed. If dough does not come together and almost clean the sides of the bowl, add more flour (up to 4 tablesppons, one tablespoon at a time). Knead at medium speed for 3 minutes, until dough becomes smooth and shiny.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Turn the dough into a large buttered bowl and cover. Put the bowl in a warm place (I always use my oven with the light turned on) and let the dough rise until it is doubled in size, about 90 minutes or so. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div>Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and roll into a rectangle, around 12 x 18 inches. Spread 3 tbs melted butter all over surface, and sprinkle sugars and raisins on top. Starting from one of the short ends, roll dough firmly. Seal the seam and tuck ends underneath. Place seam side down in a buttered loaf pan, cover loosely and allow to rise for 45 minutes.<br />
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Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Melt one tablespoon of butter and spread over surface of bread. Bake for 20 minutes, then loosely tent with foil and back 25 minutes more, until golden. Remove bread from oven and allow to cool for 5 minutes before unmolding, then allow to cool fully before slicing.<br />
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<b>Enjoy!</b><br />
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<b>Sharing with <a href="http://www.504main.com/2011/01/tickled-pink-no-37part-1the-link.html">504 Main</a>, <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/2011/01/tea-sandwiches.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+DesignsByGollum+%28Designs+by+Gollum%29&utm_content=Google+Reader">Designs by Gollum</a>, <a href="http://messhalltobistro.blogspot.com/2011/01/new-tuesday-linky.html">From Mess Hall to Bistro</a> & <a href="http://tidymom.net/2011/the-new-sonoma-diet/">Tidy Mom</a> - stop by and say hello!</b>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-55887975061829952312011-01-19T11:46:00.000-05:002011-01-19T11:46:26.123-05:00Pouring My Heart Out: Trusting My Instincts<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://i904.photobucket.com/albums/ac246/shellthings/pouryourheartout.jpg" /></span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><strong>Today I'm happy to have the opportunity to be linking up with Shell's </strong><a href="http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/2011/01/pour-your-heart-out-leaving-others-out.html"><strong>Pour Your Heart Out</strong></a><strong> over at </strong><a href="http://thingsicantsay-shell.blogspot.com/"><strong>Things I Can't Say</strong></a><strong>. It's so timely because I really do need to pour my heart out over something that's weighing on me today.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you ever been in a situation which left a funny feeling in your gut? A situation which, though innocent enough on the surface, caused you to take pause and wonder if something was <em>off</em> somehow? Did you ever get a feeling about a person - someone who you liked perfectly well, but who said or did something which kinda threw you for a moment?</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What did you do? Did you follow that feeling? Or did you talk yourself out of it somehow? Did you ever find out whether or not your instincts were on the money?</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few years ago, I went into the doctor's office for an appointment. I had been feeling sick to my stomach on a very regular basis and wanted to talk to someone about it (I didn't know it at the time, but I had UC). This doctor was someone who Rob had been seeing ever since he came home from the hospital after having contracted pertussis. They had developed a great rapport, and once I moved in with Rob I started seeing this doctor as well. We fell into a regular routine - I'd go in, he'd remind me that Rob's a bum and I'm too good for him, wocka wocka. Eventually we'd talk about why I was actually there, and we'd part with a hug.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Except for when I went in with my stomach ache. He came in and immediately started asking me questions about my birth control pills. Now, I hadn't been seeing him for very long at this point and I figured that he saw on my form that I was taking them and wanted to know how they were working for me. It made sense at the time since he was also a gynecologist (he would eventually become <em>my</em> gynecologist). So I answered his questions, waiting to get to the reason I was there to see him. But much to my surprise, he took out his pad, scribbled a prescription for refills on the pills I was taking, and started for the door.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Um...hang on...are we going to talk about why I came in?". He looked at me. I explained my reason for being there. He apologized and told me that he was swamped and that there was a huge backlog of patients. Crossed wires with his assistant (who I'd explained my symptoms to), etc etc. </span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I was leaving the office, something was bugging me. It seemed strange that he was so quick to write me a prescription, without asking me if I even needed it (I didn't at the time), and without asking how I was actually feeling. It seemed rather negligent, somehow. I told Rob about it and even told my mom - that's how much it stuck with me. I can't explain why it did, but it did.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, I brushed it off. I figured he was busy, tired, and that there'd been a miscommunication. I was being overly picky, no one's perfect. No big deal. And over time both Rob and I complained to the other about him - mainly about how he was so quick to write a prescription without really attacking the problem at hand - to the point where I said more than once that I wanted to find a new doctor. But hey, don't all doctors do that? Besides, he was so close to our apartment and we already had a good relationship with him. We were willing to overlook it.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then we moved last year - I was sorry to see him for the last time not long before we left. He was sympathetic to our situation, to Rob's dad's health problems, and wished us well. We've talked about him since then, and about how it was a shame that we were so far away.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Last night Rob found an article online stating that this man was arrested this past summer when it was revealed that he had for years been writing prescriptions for painkillers in exchange for sexual favors. Unfortunately, one young woman (a 31 year old mother) died last spring after overdosing. Her sister had known that he was the one supplying the scripts for Oxy and other drugs, and confronted him prior to her sister's death, telling him that this woman had already been in the hospital twice as a result of overdosing. He wrote a new script the next day.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There were lots of other details in this article, things that turned my stomach, things he admitted to. But that's not the point of my telling you this.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The point is that maybe I need to trust my instincts a little more. After all, how often do you hear after the fact about people <em>"just having a feeling"</em> about someone who did something wrong? Most recently it was a former teacher of the guy who committed the shootings in Arizona - they said that they were uncomfortable around him and even feared that he'd bring a gun in to school one day, that he would laugh at inappropriate times and say things that made the other students uncomfortable. But rather than taking action, I'm sure they talked themselves out of it.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm not saying that there was any way I could have known what was going on in that office after hours, and I'm fully aware that nothing was ever done to hurt me personally and that it's none of my business. I am honestly praying for the women involved, and for him - clearly in order for him to jeopardize his career, not to mention the ethical issues involved, he must have some serious issues.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Still, I keep going back to that one visit. My gut feeling was that this was not the right guy for me. Regardless, I talked myself out of it and kept going back. </span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I talk myself out of a lot of feelings.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe it's time to start honoring my instincts after all.</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: left;"><strong><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How about you? Do you find yourself going with your gut feelings or do you tend to overthink things?</span></strong></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-35017569058351354372011-01-17T16:37:00.000-05:002011-01-17T16:37:39.287-05:00Roasted Cauliflower<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH9JEdbRObiKfs1loYJXkBqhlz-in5q69pK6RChFMdK-ZtDAbS-AWAuvZaojPsIxgtA_c1dVWz9G0U6BB6jwoWyQ5SQNlcMfawH8m5J2OXf5R8m8JFm69taKl-WXly6zfi9xNPp5EF7hc/s1600/IMG_1582webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH9JEdbRObiKfs1loYJXkBqhlz-in5q69pK6RChFMdK-ZtDAbS-AWAuvZaojPsIxgtA_c1dVWz9G0U6BB6jwoWyQ5SQNlcMfawH8m5J2OXf5R8m8JFm69taKl-WXly6zfi9xNPp5EF7hc/s320/IMG_1582webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cauliflower. That strangest-looking of vegetables.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Seriously. Not pretty. Even with the little green fringe around the edges. Not pretty at all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But as we all know because we're grownups and grownups know these things...it's not all about looks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I like cauliflower because it is so adaptable. I have found that it can successfully soak up all kinds of flavors, which is a good thing because otherwise it's kinda...blah.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My absolutely favoritest way to prepare cauliflower is to roast it. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLP3cGTQOsjondtbT3735DZLfSb3txXEhKnkBASCjYjCzT1YuaE_JZlm5qKfZ_V0oJvsqKWsJEwCo46Hn_ZPjZaohgRUJcfEHR3tV8WqHAEOiHRnwaO9RQC_mSdTI0xAu3I55o57gs2k/s1600/IMG_1584webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRLP3cGTQOsjondtbT3735DZLfSb3txXEhKnkBASCjYjCzT1YuaE_JZlm5qKfZ_V0oJvsqKWsJEwCo46Hn_ZPjZaohgRUJcfEHR3tV8WqHAEOiHRnwaO9RQC_mSdTI0xAu3I55o57gs2k/s320/IMG_1584webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper (and your choice of spices...I used garlic powder, but red pepper flakes would probably be super tasty!), roasted in a 375 degree oven for about an hour (making sure to turn it halfway through)...</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginqU1T00mtthKynaJ46EcFMVfWWUnAOr3gBII_dW6JeRYwHjQr4unYm9RxfvyYIWD9gNfkh9vY7m0Vu0e-g4ZRBKCy3JYmzajPaDubQs7UMKDLQlKYvVYPq1gvmF7MCXUPKIhiKPjJk0/s1600/IMG_1612webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEginqU1T00mtthKynaJ46EcFMVfWWUnAOr3gBII_dW6JeRYwHjQr4unYm9RxfvyYIWD9gNfkh9vY7m0Vu0e-g4ZRBKCy3JYmzajPaDubQs7UMKDLQlKYvVYPq1gvmF7MCXUPKIhiKPjJk0/s320/IMG_1612webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Slightly crispy on the outside, soft on the inside. Deeeeelicious!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Roasting veggies = a great way to mix up what you may not have been super eager to include in your meals. I know that cauliflower isn't typically something I'd reach for right away in the past.</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Now? Gimme!!!</span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong><em>What's your favorite vegetable? Which vegetables (if any) do you like to roast?</em></strong></span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-73204845659849269802011-01-14T11:59:00.000-05:002011-01-14T11:59:40.728-05:00I Was A Baby Beauty Queen<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have you ever seen Toddlers and Tiaras? You know, the show that features little girls (and some babies, from what I've seen on commercials) getting all dolled up and prancing around and crying because their scalps hurt from their hair getting teased so much?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yeah. That show.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And no, I've never seen a whole episode. Just commercials. Because I think that's all I could take in one sitting. It hits too close to home and reminds me of my own painful pageant days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What? You didn't know that I was a baby beauty queen? Oh yes, I was, when I was 4 years old. I still remember those days. Training, all the time. My face hurt from constantly smiling, my feet hurt from going tippity-tap for hours. The gowns. The hairspray. The bathing suit competition.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay...maybe it wasn't like that. Maybe I only appeared in one pageant and didn't even win. But the experience has stayed with me for 27 years.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfz5zmN21rD-hMzBOt3Vi-axRZetZOdB2vMsEg_OGfQ3aDC3wyx88ZHagZsEpO7LcD2bDwuk2Hi_wV3rUgBeSG18nA8SQYPmr2v0WVk_Rmb9na70ez0MRtMpQqIVvVzFm2e8wejfJDQCM/s1600/alalberts1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfz5zmN21rD-hMzBOt3Vi-axRZetZOdB2vMsEg_OGfQ3aDC3wyx88ZHagZsEpO7LcD2bDwuk2Hi_wV3rUgBeSG18nA8SQYPmr2v0WVk_Rmb9na70ez0MRtMpQqIVvVzFm2e8wejfJDQCM/s1600/alalberts1a.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo courtesy of </span><a href="http://broadcastpioneers.com/"><span style="font-size: x-small;">BroadcastPioneers.com</span></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you live in the Philadelphia area, you're probably familiar with Al Alberts.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good old Uncle Al. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Uncle Al, he was a singer back in the...50's? 60's? with an quartet who released some albums or something. Anyway, he had his own show on our local ABC station called "Al Alberts Showcase", and he'd feature kids doing all sorts of singing and dancing and whatnot. He would banter with his wife, Stella, and would eventually sing at least once over the course of the program. It was local TV at its cheesy finest.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And every year he held two contests, one for girls (Little Miss Showcase) and one for boys (Little Mr. Showcase). Parents sent in a picture of their utterly adorable child and would then cross their fingers that a letter would come in saying that their kid had made the cut and would appear on TV for literally hundreds of people to see and make judgements over from the comfort of their living rooms.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needless to say, my parents sent in my picture. And I was picked to appear. I was just gorgeous like that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I still remember getting all dolled up the night of the pageant (I didn't understand that the shows were taped in advance - it took me a minute to get over the fact that we were going in at night when the show aired on Saturday mornings). My mom's side of the family was there, too - it was a big deal, you know? I remember to this day how positive I was that I was going to win. I had a grandmother who doted on me, after all, and that sort of positive reinforcement is difficult to ignore. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then there were my two teenaged cousins who waited til the three of us were alone in the living room to mutter "You're not going to win, you know that, right?". Angels. They were just jealous that I was a pretty pretty princess and they weren't.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Moving on.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We went to the studio for the taping. I don't remember much of it, just a blur of activity as we were told where to sit on a set of risers. I sat next to a nice little girl and I'm pretty sure I told her I was going to win. She still talked to me after that, though I don't know why. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then the pageant. It went on and on. We didn't have to, you know, perform or anything - though there was talent lined up for the event in the form of at least one little girl who sang a song or something. It's a blur. I was 4 years old - not so much with the attention span. I was most likely concentrating on forcing myself to sit still.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then it came time for the announcement of the winner and her court. As each name got called, I became more excited - after all, I was going to WIN! Hadn't I been assured of my WINNING ever since the letter came in the mail telling me I'd been chosen to appear? And WIN?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Alas, my name was never called and the show came to a close. My eyes searched the crowd for my parents' faces. I was desperate for someone to help me understand this travesty. Then I started crying. Boy, did I cry. And cry. And...cry. Again, I was 4 years old. I truly believed I was going to win from the botton of my little heart. But my heart was broken for the first time.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The much more level-headed little girl next to me stroked my arm and consoled me until my parents made their way through the audience and on to the stage. I can only imagine how much it hurt them to see me so distraught. See, they believed too. They weren't the beaten-down parents of 4 that they are today. They were still two crazy kids who really believed that their little girl was special enough to win. Oh, youth.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For many years worth of Saturday mornings after that fateful night, we booed and hissed every time the little girl who beat me appeared on the show. Because evidently, winning Little Miss Showcase means that you have to appear, like, every week or something and show off some stupid talent or whatever and pretty much rub it in the faces of the little girls who didn't win. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Boo. Hiss.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Incidentally, I just called my mom to tell her that I was writing this. She said: "Ooooh, we were walking through the parking lot afterward and we were right behind <em>her</em> and her parents, and I said to Dad 'There she is' and he said 'I know!' and I wanted to run over and knock her down and take the trophy and ride off. Here she is, a little girl, and I wanted to do that". We both laughed (...menacingly).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;">Through it all, I take one small consolation: My brother's picture was sent in for Little Mr. Showcase. But he didn't get picked to appear.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Because I'm cuter than him.</em></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>What do you think about little girls appearing in beauty pageants? I'm not talking Uncle Al here - I mean the real deal.</strong></span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-6079448845461536762011-01-13T16:34:00.002-05:002011-01-13T17:38:50.810-05:00I'm a Weak, Weak Woman<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friends, I'm struggling. I know that I've been lighthearted about this in the past, but I'm starting to realize that I have a real issue on my hands.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Normally, if I remove something from my life, I have no problem staying away from it. Now, food can't possibly count of course - it's not exactly something you can remove from your life and continue living. But outside of food I've been generally successful.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For example, smoking. I didn't smoke for very long - just through college - so I know it might have been more difficult to quit had I been smoking for many years. I remember the first few days at college, how I could instantly tell who the big kids were. The cool kids. They were the ones who would huddle together outside between classes, obscured by an ever-present cloud of smoke. Smoking was where it was at, so I picked it up and yes, I did make lots of friends during those smoke breaks. When I left college, I quit smoking. End of story. No trouble.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am usually very good about being disciplined on other matters as well. I'm up at the same time every morning without using an alarm clock. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, that's the only other thing I can think of being disciplined with. Give me time to come up with more.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The point of all of this is: I'm struggling now. With my Starbucks resolution.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Have I managed to keep it so far? Yes! I haven't purchased a single cup of coffee yet (in fact, it's been since before Christmas!) from Starbucks, Dunkin' Donuts, McDonald's...anywhere. I'm really proud of that, because I walk right past many opportunities to give in every morning. It would be so easy to give in and take my place in line.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to ask myself the real reason behind my problem with these places. I mean, it's coffee, right? Coffee is coffee is coffee when you get right down to it. If I need it so badly, I can make a free cup at work. No biggie.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But it's clearly more than that. For one thing, it plays into my penchant for instant gratification. I want it? There it is. I'm gonna get it. It's a just another thing for me to waste money on. It's something to break up the monotony of the morning, a treat which has turned into an expensive habit.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Another underlying issue is, I believe, the fact that overpriced coffee has become somewhat of a status symbol. Hasn't it in some way? The fact that you can afford to walk around with an overpriced cup of coffee in your hands says something about you. I wanted to be one of the Starbucks sippers on the train. I still do. And I just made the connection between this and my college smoking - I want to be one of the cool kids. When will I ever learn that I will never be cool?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Plus...it's yummy. I'm a food addict as it is - maybe I should change that to "yummy addict".</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Regardless of the "why", some days are most definitely easier than others. Today was not an easy day at all - but I kept on walking. Maybe the fact that I can stay strong and stay away from what's really just a money waster can serve as inspiration in quitting some poor eating habits as well. I'm finding that I'm way better at disciplining myself than I thought I was - it may suck at the moment, but it's not the end of the world. I'm learning.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day at a time, right?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial;"><strong>Have you ever had to quit something? What's your story? Do you have any advice?</strong></span>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-74148138612148361902011-01-12T22:05:00.001-05:002011-01-12T22:05:55.202-05:00How I've Scarred Myself For Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ghv_82RZlSxN7CnKR236kGVUoH75XvyJIgHCe58zUSbZ026QKpMghN7IWW0MGwhd38r8rapfulbbIiEh4TX3Q2TofECSSgOM83ywpPDBKqo2sByDVFcOtYrd1d16yyIBAhhxLqbeRxI/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Ghv_82RZlSxN7CnKR236kGVUoH75XvyJIgHCe58zUSbZ026QKpMghN7IWW0MGwhd38r8rapfulbbIiEh4TX3Q2TofECSSgOM83ywpPDBKqo2sByDVFcOtYrd1d16yyIBAhhxLqbeRxI/s1600/photo.JPG" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What's that a picture of, you ask? Well, I'll tell ya. On Saturday night, I got a little ahead of myself while steaming rice. Instead of using my tongs to lift the foil from the pan, I used my fingers. Stupid, stupid. And I got the lovely burn you see above. Rob was sweet enough to run out and get some burn spray and gauze to wrap them - yes, I cried, but he also brought me chocolates so that made me feel better.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="Mama's Losin' It" src="http://i913.photobucket.com/albums/ac331/mamakatslosinit/poodle4.jpg" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So it's funny that one of Mama Kat's writing prompts this week is "scarred". Because I'm fairly sure that sucker's gonna leave a scar. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But then again, that's sorta par for the course with me. I scar easily and happen to be insanely clumsy. It's like the perfect storm of potential bodily damage.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Starting from the bottom up...well, there's a round scar on the big toe of my left foot. Why no picture? Because I haven't gotten an actual pedicure since the last month that started with "A". Moving on. That little beauty was acquired when I was around 4 or 5 years old. My mom let me sit on the front step with her in my bare feet. My nemesis, Jimmy, came by with his mom. Jimmy was taunting me and I wanted to chase after him and beat him up, but my feet were bare and it was concrete as far as the eye could see. My mom told me to stay put while she got my shoes. Yeah, right. The second she was in the house I took off running. I got maybe two houses down before I fell and somehow managed to get a tiny stone lodged in my toe. You read that right. The stone is gone but the scar lingers on and reminds me to always listen to my mom.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Both shins are covered in diagonal scars. They come from falling down the back steps...twice. Back in the day, those steps were made of the old concrete that was full of stones (are we sensing a pattern with me and concrete and stones?), and those stones left me with the little scars up and down my legs today. Why no picture? Because they're faint and, well...I need to shave my legs. I love y'all, but if I don't shave my legs every day for my husband...you get my point.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There's a 2-inch scar on the underside of my left arm from when I was cooking for Easter last year and was quickly reaching into a cabinet...with a very sharp cornered door. Almost a year later, Rob still asks me from time to time where that scar comes from. Uh, it comes from the fact that the kitchen evidently needs to be Jen-proofed. Duh.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There's a few faint scars on my decolletage from a huge oil spatter while frying potato pancakes in a tank top. Instant blistering. It was monstrous. Oh, and it was my birthday. Happy birthday to me. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oddly, there are no scars on my face. Knock wood. Knock wood.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And those are just the biggies. The major guys. There are a multitude of other little ones here and there. All of them compose the road map of my life...my clumsy, clumsy life. For better or worse. Well, Rob doesn't seem to mind. That's all that matters.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Do YOU have a story for every scar? Or are you lucky enough to not have as many as me? ;-)</b></div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-48228308167310788252011-01-11T22:15:00.003-05:002011-01-14T16:10:30.228-05:00Garlicky Grilled Naan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zo6lDEceWV6vMwntk_BW59h6UEKG1S-I0Lyd4-3hXwnsDaWA25jhCKq20p10e48FhtAuiX4C5DZ2wc-ZRqroh-y6Cz6aI9cXyOaup3vsFtXJvHZeIsvBnmrrhOXvA_pJ0bYx62g4DG8/s1600/IMG_1604webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-zo6lDEceWV6vMwntk_BW59h6UEKG1S-I0Lyd4-3hXwnsDaWA25jhCKq20p10e48FhtAuiX4C5DZ2wc-ZRqroh-y6Cz6aI9cXyOaup3vsFtXJvHZeIsvBnmrrhOXvA_pJ0bYx62g4DG8/s320/IMG_1604webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't know where naan has been all my life, but I'm glad it finally found its way to me. I'm determined to make up for lost time now.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Usually, when I buy naan in the store it's...puffy. Puffier than what I make on my grill pan. I once baked this and it puffed up like crazy and was very pretty...but I didn't like it nearly as much as I like this. It's traditionally baked in a tandoori oven, but...my tandoori oven is in the shop (or something). So the grill pan it is. But no worries - I would eat my grilled garlicky naan with anything. Don't like the garlic? Leave it out! Simple! </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlgTU0S5-RYkxZd_MkhojIhyphenhyphenp2o-uMiv-PcEgOdYwfdafSQpXA8icTaJKzzC-mfO57Pd19Eex3dP6vFVkeRj3QzQ5Lcc3Y3sRpxKTmuP9eW3HJrg2QoTDdqjsFuz7P9BckK5ImTwoZlI/s1600/IMG_1540webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJlgTU0S5-RYkxZd_MkhojIhyphenhyphenp2o-uMiv-PcEgOdYwfdafSQpXA8icTaJKzzC-mfO57Pd19Eex3dP6vFVkeRj3QzQ5Lcc3Y3sRpxKTmuP9eW3HJrg2QoTDdqjsFuz7P9BckK5ImTwoZlI/s320/IMG_1540webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When grilling, look for bubbles to form on the top of the dough. This will tell you that the dough is almost ready to be flipped - you'll be able to tell for sure when your tongs can be slid under the bread easily. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Good thing it goes so well with...everything. Especially chicken tikka masala, which needs a bit of bread to (a) sop up all the delicious sauce and (b) offset the spiciness which hits you in the back of your throat like a sneaky spice ninja.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Plus, the best part: It's super easy to make. I wouldn't lie to you.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>For the dough: </b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 1/2 tsps dry yeast</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 cup warm water (around 110 degrees F, no more than 120!)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 1/2 tsps sugar</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3 cups all-purpose flour</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1 teaspoon salt </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">6 tbsps clarified butter, or ghee (I didn't have any on hand, so I used plain melted)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3 tbsps yogurt (I use Greek)</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>Garlic Spread:</b></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1/2 stick butter</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2 garlic cloves, pressed</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In a large bowl (use the stand mixer bowl if you're lucky enough to have one!), pour in the yeast and sugar, then add the warm water. Cover and allow to sit for 10 minutes - it should be frothy. <i> If it does not froth, either the yeast is too old and therefore no longer active, or the water you used was not the correct temperature.</i></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In a separate bowl, combine flour and salt. Set aside.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To the frothy yeast mixture, add the yogurt and butter and mix gently. Then add the flour/salt. Using a large spoon (and/or your fingers) or the bread hook of your stand mixture, mix until a soft dough comes together. Then turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until dough is elastic and smooth (or, again, use your stand mixer). Form dough into a ball. Coat the inside of a large bowl with a few drops of vegetable oil or sprays of cooking spray and place the dough inside. Cover and allow to rise in a warm place for 90 minutes. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
Once dough is risen, punch down and knead once again for 10 minutes. Divide dough into 6 balls.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Heat grill pan over medium high heat. </div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Roll each ball of dough out on counter into a circle - not too thin, as you don't want it to rip. Transfer each dough round (oblong?), one at a time, to the hot grill pan. As soon as tongs can slide underneath, flip dough.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOsWQ1tzFc4g6dqL66a41n9mBcUc1rrwDHdxKB_EgBrnIsCxln348Fy-0DeYM64asWpYjjn0-s-ma4s1m4_HFGecIqFID7jwQd7orQtLs7ZgT06qLzN8ohGT9xgahlA6nS2DoqjdMHwY/s1600/IMG_1541webcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbOsWQ1tzFc4g6dqL66a41n9mBcUc1rrwDHdxKB_EgBrnIsCxln348Fy-0DeYM64asWpYjjn0-s-ma4s1m4_HFGecIqFID7jwQd7orQtLs7ZgT06qLzN8ohGT9xgahlA6nS2DoqjdMHwY/s320/IMG_1541webcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Meanwhile, add garlic to butter and melt in microwave - garlic will become very fragrant and softened. To keep bread warm, stack on aluminum foil with a generous amount garlic butter brushed in between layers. Once all bread is grilled, wrap stack in foil and keep in warm oven until ready to serve.</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Enjoy!</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b>We were thinking about serving this with pasta - just like garlic bread! What else would <i>you</i> eat with garlicky naan?</b><br />
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Sharing with <a href="http://designsbygollum.blogspot.com/2011/01/foodie-friday-video-and-copper-cookware.html">Designs by Gollum</a>, <a href="http://www.504main.com/">504 Main</a> & <a href="http://www.simplysweethome.com/2011/01/friday-favorites-week-46.html">Simply Sweet Home</a> - come by and get some super awesome recipe and craft ideas ideas!</div>MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8119298184645519490.post-51079165147749256872011-01-11T21:15:00.001-05:002011-01-22T08:44:37.895-05:00CSN Stores Review!I've worked with CSN Stores in the past - I had the pleasure of hosting a giveaway with them last year. In case you're not familiar with CSN (I can't imagine that you wouldn't be, though!), they have 200+ stores and cover pretty much the entire gamut of imaginable. Like...just about anything.<br />
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So imagine my excitement when I was contacted and asked to do a review!<br />
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The mind boggles...what should I choose? There's so much! Should I go for shoes? I could always use a new pair of shoes - maybe a cute pair of flat boots, since I still don't have any even though everyone else in the world does. What about some new cookware - I was totally bugging over a fellow blogger's cast iron skillet today. But I <i>am</i> always complaining about how I don't have enough room for my cookware as it is. Perhaps some <a href="http://www.allmodern.com/Art-and-Decor-C32889.html">wall art and decor</a> for the kitchen, since the walls are going to be pretty bare once we take off what's currently up there (another thing for the to-do list). There really is just so much to choose from!<br />
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Whatever I decide, I'll let you know - and I'll invite you to check out my review!MrsJenBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10210080304270799102noreply@blogger.com1