I think, subconsciously, I purposefully buy bananas in excess knowing we will never be able to consume them before they become ‘over-ripe.’ Because then I can use them to make stuff like this…Now, if you follow anything I’ve written over the last year, you know I eat a lot of ice cream. I may even consider it an official food group. So you know you can trust me when I say this is really, really, really good. Continue reading
This was the first time in my entire life I’ve made and/or eaten shrimp and grits. It will, however, not be the last.
This newly formed food crush all started when Jonny took his annual trip to Dallas to meet with a few agencies and show off his books… and more importantly, spend a long weekend consuming a LOT of food with his best friend from college.
I’m a tiny bit jealous of this annual jaunt. Maybe it’s because he texts me pictures of whatever it is he happens to be eating at the time, with brief descriptors like “holy shit, this is good”, while I’m sitting at home watching old episodes of Arrested Development, wolfing down cereal after the kids go to sleep. Continue reading
That feeling lasts approximately 15 minutes… or as long as it takes me to rattle off around 50 photos.
Speaking of photos…. you can blame them for my lack of blogging existence last week. Extreme panic doesn’t even begin to explain the feeling I had while frantically archiving 14,500+ images from my computer to ensure the photographic evidence of my adorable offspring (and culinary masterpieces) were safe from an inevitable crash.
I. Was. Stressed. Out.
But now I’m back. Armed with a backup drive, a shiny new library of DVDs, and my completely rejuvenated iMac. All is right in my world.
I fully intended to have this written and posted before bed last night. Then I started playing Toca Robot Lab with Finley on the iPad and totally spaced on the corn.
I love robots. I wish I had one. Not a toy robot, we have plenty of those. I mean a real, robotic cleaning machine. Like Rosie from the Jetsons.
According to the original show concept, I only need to wait another 49 years and they’ll be available. Along with Space Sprockets and holographic communicating machines.
2062 is going to be so awesome. Continue reading
Sometimes I find myself relating to episodes of Seinfeld a little too much. I loved that show. It’s probably one of the only things left on tv that I can still watch and laugh every single time, no matter how often I’ve seen the episode.
It always surprises me when I bust out a show reference or quote and people have no clue what I’m talking about. Who are these people that don’t get it when I’m happily singing “Yankee Bean. Yankee Bean. I love my Yankeeee Bean.” or quietly repeating “Serenity Now. Insanity Later.” under my breath?
I bet you’re wondering where I’m going with this? Stay with me, I’m almost there…
I was going through photos today, trying to archive some of the over 4,000 plus files that are bogging the ol’ computer down, and I came across this guy…
Old Blue was just one of three dozen monster cupcakes Finley and I made as a 1st Birthday gift for a close friend last year. Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to get many good pictures because it was really dark that day, but he and his creepy little cronies where absolutely rawr-some!
There’s not really a recipe involved, other than make some kick-ass cupcakes, frost and decorate them with random candies to look like goobery monsters. For this guy in particular, we used blue airheads for horns, candy eyes for… well, eyes, and red M&M’s for his tongue.
That’s about it. Short & sweet today. He was just too cute to archive without sharing.
OMFG. SO GOOD.
If you follow me on Facebook, you know I have a habit of posting photos or talking about new food as I’m making it, and waaaay before I get around to writing the actual recipe post. Especially if it’s something I’m really excited about. Or something I can’t stop shoving in my piehole.
Appropriately enough, like this steak, mushroom & gruyere pie…
I got the idea for this while watching an episode of Eat St. on The Cooking Channel and literally ran to get a pen and paper so I wouldn’t forget to try it later in the week. In the process I may have slipped on the hardwood floor, fallen and strained a muscle. Finley thought it was a cool new game and proceeded to sock-slide across the floor, animatedly pretending to fall, for the rest of the evening. Of course I encouraged it so he didn’t realize my animated fall was actually a result of a lack of coordination and eagerness to make a pie stuffed with meat.
This is what happens when you have a hankering for something sweet, but only three scant tablespoons of sugar to your name…
And because the only neighbor that even acknowledges our presence is a single guy in his mid-to-late fifties, who more than likely hasn’t purchased sugar in at least a decade, there wasn’t even the option to borrow from the neighbors.
I’m not sure why our neighbors don’t talk to us. It couldn’t be that my kids are constantly chasing quails and wild rabbits through their lawns, screaming things like “HOTDOG DOT COM” and “MOMMY, WHAT DOES BIRD PEE LOOK LIKE?” at the top of their lungs.
Whatever, it’s their loss. We’re awesome.
I like cupcakes and I cannot lie. You other brothers can’t deny. If I offered you just an itty-bitty taste of the buttercream on this cake, you’d get sprung…
Seriously though, I’ve been on a major citrus kick the last few weeks, perhaps inspired by the warm weather. Or my body is telling me I’m starved for Vitamin C. It could also be the fancy new citrus zester I treated myself to last week.
I’m not ashamed to admit I’m a sucker for a shiny new kitchen gadget. Remember the brûlée torch? I was caramelizing the crap out of everything for weeks. As a matter of fact, there is a batch of lemon creme brûlée in the oven right now. GO GO, GADGET GO. Continue reading
I’m sure I’ve mentioned before that I pretty much grew up on ice cream.
As a matter of fact, my parents are still kickin’ around the old General Store/Ice Cream Shoppe, and they officially started their ‘scooping season’ this weekend. So it seems only fitting that I share the recipe for my favorite homemade ice cream today. You know, to rub it in their faces that, unlike them, I’m not sweating over a tub of hand-dipped ice cream while a line of people stretches out the door and across the road, willing to wait as long as it takes to get a scoop.
Nope, not me. I’m sitting on my patio eating homemade ice cream while my kids ‘backyard power-struggle’ for the rights to a paper airplane. Shhh, don’t tell them I’m indulging or they’ll descend on me like a pride of hungry lions.