It's Baaaaack!

Did you really think it would disappear? No way, silly goose! Okay so here's the deal 'cause you know you want it! Go to becoming a non smoker and tell Meg your best travel story and if you win, you get the thong.

My story goes something like this: When I was a little girl {ahhhh!} I used to get car sick...a lot. So, this one time we were driving up in the mountains and I told my father I was going to get sick. He grabbed me to put me in the front seat because you can't have the car get messy. *this is where I roll my eyes. The car was a two door blue Volvo. Why I couldn't roll down the window and lean out was beyond me. My father tells my step-mom to pull over and when we come to a stop, he opens the door and I lean out to barf. I was so sick I noticed I threw up on something but I didn't put it together. All of a sudden I hear my dad screaming at my step-mom in pure panic mode, "Move the car! Move the car! Will you MOVE THE FUCKING CAR!" My step-mom kept saying, "Why? She's still throwing up." My dad is still yelling,"Move the god damn fucking car!" I'm still throwing up, then I heard a rattle and hiss, and feel the car move up but I can't take my eyes of the rattle snake covered in barf. Yup, I threw up on a rattle snake. Poor bastard had no clue what hit him.

If you are new to the blog click on the link...the thong, to see how this all started.

The Traveling Thong started in So-Cal at Undomestic Diva's blog.

Then worked it's way to me up here in Northern California. Then made it's way to Toronto to The Lexophile's blog and now is in Detroit at Meg's blog.

photo leftovers...

my favorite photo of the week. my local photo lab can blow this up and transfer it to canvas. wouldn't it look great in a super modern kitchen?

...noble pig... i thought of you and your soon-to-be winery, when i took these two photos...

little sous chef goat loves this picture of my feet... i think of asthma girl...

i hope you feel better soon...

love this picture! i also think this one would look good on canvas.

wednesday's dinner... udon with beef, mushrooms, carrots, green onion, cilantro, and sesame seeds.

one day we need to discuss my bowl addiction.

Rant!

Dear Cook's Illustrated,

I love you guys, really I do. I know that I'm a low key cook and that you guys aren't. I understand that and I accept our differences because I love you. Even though other blogs feel that you are a little anal retentive and keep lab mice somewhere in the kitchen to conduct cooking experiments. I just think you are a little fussy and looking out for my best interests. With that being said...You have gone too far!

There is no such thing as light guacamole, light lasagna, or light chicken enchiladas. NO!NO!NO! Are you smoking crack, Mr. Kimball? What is wrong with you? Do you know what would happen if I made guacamole with lima beans? Mutiny! Dude, seriously I would be dead. Have you not heard about The Man's 'do not f with the guacamole' rule?' You are the whitest man on earth! You do not mess with food from the gods. It's just wrong on so many levels.

Smart enough to know better,

ECM

Spring Risotto

"Hey! Sound the alarms, Asparagus, a grain of rice just jumped ship."

"Rice overboard!"

I made spring risotto for the ibKid. Follow the recipe and three-quarters through the cooking time add asparagus tips and a teaspoon of lemon zest. Right before serving the risotto add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

bubble wrap

Do you like bubble wrap? Click here....

*thanks goop

Baby You Can Drive My Car...

Wanted this...{actually was suppose to have won this in a bet with my husband. long story}

got this....

because of this...

the bitch is back...

I think that bitch, Insomnia, is sneaking up behind me again. If I keep calling her names maybe she will stay away. Equal opportunity slut, she infects everyone she meets.



*i am so tired.

She's Baaaack! (sorta)

Morning Sunshine! The oldest sous chef, ibKid, called and said she just crossed the Mexican border back into California.

Katie has been in Mexico, technically Baja California, building playground equipment at an orphanage. God, I wish I had some ambition in high school like she has. I was making fun of kids like that when I was in high school. Life definitely pays you back in spades. Katie went with her InterAct group, it's a branch of Rotary. Going to Mexico also fulfills her CAS hours for the IB programme which is required if you want to complete the IB diploma programme. ibKid will graduate high school with two diplomas and freshman college credits, if everything goes according to plan. I'll let her explain all of that to you on her blog.

Anytime Katie comes back from a trip she wants risotto. All this posting she does on other food blogs about wanting more exotic food, HA! Don't believe her. She shows her Italian roots when she comes home to momma and wants risotto. Wimp! All talk, that girl.

Risotto: [My biological father taught me how to make this. I have never used a recipe, ever for this dish.]

8 cups chicken broth

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 yellow onion, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

2 tablespoons butter

Salt and pepper

2 cups Arborio rice

1/2 cup dry white wine (I know I use more)

1/2 cup fresh Parmesan cheese, grated (and I'm pretty sure I use more of this also)

Fresh Italian parsley, for garnish

Heat the chicken broth in a medium saucepan and keep warm over low heat. Heat oil and butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and garlic, cook, stirring, until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the rice and stir quickly until it is well-coated and opaque, 1 minute. Stir in wine and cook until it is nearly all evaporated. Now, with a ladle, add 1 cup of the warm broth and cook, stirring, until the rice has absorbed the liquid. Add the remaining broth, 1 cup at a time. Continue to cook and stir, allowing the rice to absorb each addition of broth before adding more. The risotto should be slightly firm and creamy, not mushy. Stir in Parmesan cheese, cook briefly until melted. Top with chopped parsley before serving and if you are so inclined, more cheese.

Here's the deal with risotto, stir, stir, and stir some more. Go get a National Inquirer and read it with one hand and stir with the other. Don't let it seize up. It shouldn't be hard to stir. It should stay loosey goosey. When you eat risotto it shouldn't leave you feeling that you have a twenty pound shot-put in your stomach. That's bad risotto. It will probably taste good but you won't feel well afterwards.

*top video: Mexican Radio...Wall of Voodoo

*second video: I Left My Wallet In El Segundo... A Tribe Called Quest

Be Back in Two And Two...

I'm late. There really are no excuses for not posting a cinnamon roll recipe. I mean it is only a cinnamon roll recipe, except everyone and their grandma's aunt third cousins nephew removed by marriage and divorce has a recipe for cinnamon rolls. Is mine any better? No, but they are my cinnamon rolls, actually they are from the Kitchen Aid Stand Mixer Cookbook so technically they belong to Kitchen Aid but still.

I read serious eats a lot. It's my go-to food web site. If you have a question someone, actually multiple people, will answer it for you. Right before and after Christmas, there were a plethora of questions and postings about Kitchen Aid Mixers. "What kind of mixer I get? What should be the first thing I make with my mixer?" What I noticed was a lot of people asking about the little cookbook that comes with your stand mixer. I took mine for granted until someone mentioned it has an English Muffin Bread recipe. WHAT!? My cookbook doesn't have that recipe. It would save me multiple trips to Trader Joe's if someone could give me that recipe. Think about the environment. I could save the world from global warming if someone, anyone, would email me that recipe. My kids wouldn't starve or be grounded because they ate the last piece of my favorite bread. World peace and the end of global warming as we know it all for a bread recipe. Maybe I should run for president?

I digress, a lot. Anyways, here's the recipe...

Cinnamon Swirl Rounds: (see Kitchen Aid got all fancy and changed the name)

Basic Sweet Dough:

3/4 cup low fat milk (I used heavy cream)

1/2 cup sugar

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

1/2 butter

2 packages active dry yeast

1/3 cup warm water (105-115 degrees)

3 eggs, room temperature

5 1/2 - 6 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Place milk, sugar, salt, and butter in a small saucepan. Heat over low heat until butter melts and sugar dissolves. Cool to lukewarm. [when you read that last sentence does anyone think of Cool Hand Luke? No? Alright back to the recipe.]

Dissolve yeast in warm water in warmed mixer bowl. Add lukewarm milk mixture, eggs, and 5 cups of flour. Attach bowl and dough hook to mixer. Turn to speed 2 and mix about 2 minutes.

Continuing on speed 2, add remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, and mix about 2 minutes, or until dough clings to hook and cleans sides of bowl. Knead on speed 2 about 2 minutes longer. [remember when Chuck Woolery on Love Connection use to say 'Be back in two and two.' This part of the recipe reminds me of that.]

Place dough in a greased bowl, turning to grease top. [Go Greased Lightnin' Your burning up the quarter mile Greased Lightnin' Go Greased Lightnin'! *just making sure you are paying attention!] Cover. Let rise in warm place, free from draft, about 1 hour, or until doubled in bulk.

Cinnamon Swirl Rounds:

1 cup firmly packed brow sugar

1 cup sugar

1/2 cup butter, softened

1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 1/2 tablespoons cinnamon

1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans [I never put these in my cinnamon rolls. I want soft, warm and gooey... not soft, warm, gooey, then BAM! crunchy, like you just broke a tooth. Not good.]

1 tablespoon of orange zest [this isn't in the recipe and is totally optional]

1 recipe of sweet dough

Place brown sugar, sugar, butter, flour, cinnamon, walnut, and orange zest in mixer bowl. Attach bowl and flat beater to mixer. Turn to speed 2 and mix about 1 minute. [does that make it 2 and 1?]

Turn dough onto lightly floured surface. Roll dough to 10x24-inch rectangle. Spread sugar and cinnamon mixture evenly on dough. Roll dough tightly from long side to form 24-inch roll, pinching seam together. Cut into twenty four 1-inch slices.

Place 12 rolls each in two greased 13x9x2-inch baking pans. Cover. Let rise in warm place, free from draft, 45-60 minutes, or until doubled in bulk. [because they are on yeasty 'roids]

Bake at 350 degrees F. for 20-25 minutes. Remove from pans immediately. Spoon Caramel Glaze over warm rolls.

Caramel Glaze:

1/3 cup evaporated milk

2 tablespoons brown sugar

1 1/2 cups powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

Place evaporated milk and brown sugar in small saucepan. Cook over medium heat until mixture begins to boil, stirring constantly.

Place milk mixture, powdered sugar, and vanilla in mixer bowl. Attach bowl and flat beater to mixer. Turn to speed 4 and beat about 2 minutes [4 and 2?] or until creamy.


So that's it. Another cinnamon roll recipe out there on the internets. But did those recipes have a sing-a-long from Grease, talk about yeasty steroids, Cool Hand Luke, global warming, world peace and the hunky Chuck Woolrey? No, they didn't and that's why my cinnamon rolls rule.

*it's too bad this post didn't contain some Anthony Bourdain then these would be the best cinnamon rolls in the universe and I would be its supreme commander.

All I Wanted Was A Glass of Milk!

The New York Times has an interesting article about teenagers and binge drinking and is it okay to let your kids taste wine at dinner? and will it stop binge drinking? In my case, yes.

Wait! Don't scream at the computer screen just yet. I have a couple of stories to tell you.

Both my mom and my biological father are both alcoholics. My mom has been sober for at least 17 years. I haven't talked to my biological father for a long time but I'd bet the farm that he's not sober.

Story #1: When I was 7, I went to the country club to have breakfast with my paternal grandmother. How very chi-chi. I don't remember what I ordered to eat but I do remember the orange juice. It was nasty tasting and there was no way in hell I was going to drink it. Throughout the meal my grandmother was nagging me to drink my juice that 'we are going to sit there all day until I drank it, that she would have the waiter save the drink and I'd finish it when she was done golfing. Yada, Yada, Yada.' I told her it was gross and she didn't believe me until she tried it. Oh man, was she embarrassed and pissed. I was served a screwdriver, not orange juice.

Lesson: I still do not like screwdrivers.

Story #2: When I was eleven, I went to my father's side of the family for Christmas dinner. At dinner, we all gathered around the table and wine was poured. My dad and my uncle decided it was time for me to try some. Wait... let me rephrase that, it wasn't some, it wasn't watered down, it was a whole glass of red wine. My family doesn't drink cheap stuff but at eleven years old, wine doesn't taste good. Period. No one could understand why I wasn't drinking it and again I got the 'you can't leave the table until you finish the glass' bit. Seriously, where was CPS? All I wanted was a glass of milk or a Coke. What was wrong with these people? I only drank about a half a glass and sat at the table for a loooooong time.

Lesson: I still don't like wine. I use it to cook but I can't drink a glass, red or white.

Story #3: When I was 15-17 years old I lived with my father. Bad Idea. Really. Bad. Idea. Everyday when my father and step mom came home from work they would start drinking. A gin and tonic, maybe two, before dinner, a couple of glasses of wine at dinner, and a glass of scotch, or two, as a nightcap. Every night for as long as I can remember. Seriously. Here's the deal... I would drink carbonated water with a slice of lime in my glass. My dad or step mom would drink gin and tonic with a slice of lime in it in the same type glass as I had my water in. Do you know how many times I mistakenly grabbed and drank out of their glass? A lot.

Lesson: I do not like gin and tonics.

I would not eat them semi-sonic,

I do not like them, Sam-I-Am.

Story #4: This doesn't have to do with alcohol. My mom caught me smoking her cigarette when I was four or so. She made me smoke the whole cigarette. I, then, promptly got sick.

Lesson: I've never smoked after that. I'm actually really glad she made me smoke that cigarette, that's one habit I'll never have to break.

With all that being said, I have let my kids have a sip of wine and sips of some cocktails that I have made. I don't think alcohol should be taboo but I don't think you should serve teenagers drinks in your home with the reasoning they will drink some place else. That's crazy talk.

Okay, now you can yell at your computer screen. Tell me what you think...

Baby Brains

Am I the only one who thinks that radicchio looks like a baby brain? It's freaky looking, if you ask me.

Hmmmm, I wonder... [dream sequence]

Kids: "Hey Mom, what's for dinner?"

"Baby Brains! Muwhahaha" Evil Chef Momma shrieks while laughing manically and holding up a head of radicchio.

Kids screaming "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" while running out of the room.



Baked Penne With Radicchio and Sausage: (House Beautiful April 2008 from the book Two Meatballs Italian Kitchen by Pino Luongo & Mark Strausman)

8 ounces sweet Italian sausage (about 2) removed from casings and crumbled

8 ounces hot Italian sausage (about 2 ) removed from casings and crumbled

1 small head radicchio, thinly sliced

2 tablespoons kosher salt, plus more to taste

1 pound of penne

1 1/2 cups whole milk

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

3/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Lightly butter an 8x12 inch baking dish.

Heat a 10x12 inch skilled over medium heat. When it is hot, add the sausage. Cook, breaking up the sausage into small pieces with a wooden spoon, until the fat is rendered and the sausage has lost its pink color. Pour off all but 1 tablespoon of the fat. Add the radicchio, stir well, and cook, stirring until it is soft and well blended with the sausage, about four minutes. Season with salt to taste, and transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Meanwhile, fill a 10-quart stockpot with 7 quarts of water and bring to a boil over high heat. Add the 2 tablespoons salt. Add the pasta, stir, and cook until al dente. Drain the pasta and add to the bowl with the sausage. Add the milk and eggs and mix well. Pour into the prepared dish and sprinkle the top with Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Transfer to the oven and bake until the top looks a bit crunch and golden, 20-25 minutes. Let rest for 15 minutes before serving.


This dish plays into that rich and creamy baked pasta type deal but then you add the bitterness of the radicchio and some heat from the hot Italian sausages and you have something totally different and complex. I made a simple green salad with a blood orange vinaigrette to give the meal just a hint of sweetness.

*update on creepy baseball coach.... four players have left the team.

Lunch

This is what you have for lunch after eating all deep fried foods for dinner.

What's For Dinner?

Kids: "Hey Mom! What's for dinner?"

ECM: " Deep Fried Poo!"

leftovers and linking love...

On AngiesPangies blog she has a free download of her Chinese New Year Cookbook. Can anybody say over achiever? She doesn't just give you recipes.. no, no, no that would be too easy. Angie wrote about the origins and symbols of Chinese New Year and nutrition values of each dish prepared.

I have some crazy kitchen stories. You know like when the pyrex dish exploded all over the kitchen. Undomestic Diva has a real life story about the exploding double boiler...with pictures! Part of me says I'll never complain about all my crazy accident/stunts in the kitchen, the other part says "well, her blog title is Undomestic Diva!"

Over at Noble Pig's blog she regularly has posts about her winery in the making. I find it completely fascinating but I'm geeky like that.

Katie has left to Mexico to build a playground at an orphanage. More on that later, but before she left she posted about death counts and reading. What are they teaching my kid? Rape and death. I should tell you about the hippy/Buddhist dad who wants to ban a couple of the books because of the rape scene in Tortilla Curtain. He finally figured out what his kid was reading in class. Is it any worse than what she sees on TV?

Fry Daddy Easter

I need to apologize for not having any pictures of the fried food. First, it is hard to take pictures when you are one of only two people doing the frying. Second, my fingers were slippery from eating all that deep fried deliciousness.

Here's a list of what we fried:

Asparagus, yams, cauliflower, zucchini, onion, mushrooms, lumpia, egg rolls, jalapeno poppers, chicken, finger steaks, Snickers, and Twinkies.

For the finger steaks and chicken we used this batter recipe given to us by the mastermind of this whole deal, Rob's Mom.

Pat's Milk Batter:

Sift one cup flour

1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 beaten eggs

1/2 cup milk

Stir. If too thick, add milk.

Mom Meyer's Beer Batter for Onion Rings:

1 1/2 cup flour

1 1/2 cup beer

Let batter sit for at least 3 hours.

You could use the beer batter on all the vegetables but because we didn't have enough, I also used tempura.

I did not like the deep fried Twinkies. The filling was like molten lava and the sponge cake was dry. On the other hand, the deep fried Snickers have a strange appeal. Warm and melt'y' but still in a candy bar form. But you have to keep your eyes on them because if you leave them in too long they, umm... look like poo and deep fried looking poo isn't what I want to eat.

Cadbury Suicide or Happy Easter!

I first saw this clip on Serious Eats and then on Lexophile. It's well worth posting again.

Contest Winners:

1. My sister Stacey because the heater vent was original! Unfair, yes, because my readers don't know about that but because I love you and that was so original you had to win!

2. White On Rice. I heard Nancy go into the bathroom, I heard her open and close the shower door, I heard the toilet seat lid lift... then silence and then I heard the toilet flush! Ack! She walked out saying " I found it!" She flushed the toliet to trick us. Sneaky Goat.

3. Lexophile. Andrew found the bbq egg and while it didn't take long, it took longer than expected and that's an Easter miracle.

White on Rice and Lexophile send me an email to let me know what picture you would like and the size.

Happy Easter Everybody!

Toe Picker!

For my sous chefs!

*Dear readers, feel sorry for me. I have to hear this at least once a week but that's not the worst part... then it gets stuck in your head like some brain eating worm, and then you are repeating it for days.

Starbucks and The Wrong Name Part II...

If you don't know the story about Starbucks and the wrong name, click here.

This is what I got this morning. Seriously, this isn't even a name. This is a mountain.

Sooooooo Good!

What do I want to write about first? Do I want to write about how much I lurve my camera after so much hating on digital? Do I want to talk about those blogs you don't dare comment on because they are the big bloggers, but you want to say "Hey! I made that recipe you just posted and it's the shizzle-fritz!"

Let's talk about the big dog blogs. I was reading Orangette and she had a recipe for homemade French Chocolate Granola that she and her significant other replicated from their trip to France. While I won't post the recipe because I didn't ask for permission, I highly recommend you make it. Like now!

And I've Got More Hits Than Sadaharu Oh...

Aha. Look what I've created. I have made FIRE!

Sing-a-long:
The way you walk and talk really sets me off
To a fuller love, child, yes, it does, uh
The way you squeeze and tease, knocks to me my knees
‘Cause I’m smokin’, baby, baby

Quiz time: The first sentence is a quote from what movie? The title is a lyric from what song? And who is the band that does the lyrics from sing-a-long?

Dinner last night was grilled chicken legs marinated in olive oil, lemon juice, white wine, and Cavender's Greek Seasoning and as a side dish we had couscous with red onions, garbanzo beans, and cilantro, with olive oil lemon dressing.

For the salad:

one can of garbanzo beans

one medium red onion, chopped

one bunch of cilantro, roughly chopped

couscous, prepared according to the package

This is what I used for 2 cups of couscous. Use whatever proportions you like.

For the dressing:

approximately 1/3 cup olive oil

juice and zest of one lemon

salt and pepper to taste

Whisk together and pour on top of already cooked couscous. I add an extra squeeze of lemon before serving.

Yummy!

help!

I love this photo and I literally just took it 30 minutes ago. I want to ask all my dear readers if they know what flower this is? It came off a tree in my backyard. It only blooms around this time of year for only a week, at most, two. Just to prove to you, time is fleeting. The flower smells sweet, like jasmine or honeysuckle, and it permeates the whole house. Not enough to give you a headache but just enough to leave you to fall asleep with a smile on your face because you know you'll smell it in your dreams.

Sins, Confessions, and a Contest!

When I googled images for the seven deadly sins. This came up. Brrrr. Creepy. It's made out of paper and bamboo by Hajime Emoto. This collection is meant to represent the seven deadly sins. The website is in Japanese, so I'm not sure what this one represents. I'm guessing this specimen represents greed but I think that might be a little too obvious. All I know is, I'm glad these aren't real.

It's time to 'fess up. I've probably, in the last few days, have committed all the seven deadly sins in some way or another.

Wrath: Creepy baseball coach. Need I say more?

Sloth: Not posting on my regular blogging schedule. It's spring break, sorry.

Lust and Gluttony: Went out to eat last night at my local brew pub that used to a former porn theatre/shop. It's actually a beautiful brick building but that's besides the point.

Greed, Envy, and Pride: Not so much. But four out of seven ain't so bad!

Okay, did I get them all? It's like naming the Seven Dwarfs. You seem to always miss one.

Another confession; Easter is not a big deal in our house. Yes, I said it. Easter is not a big deal. *cringe*

My kids hunt for Easter eggs, they eat some of their Easter basket candy for breakfast, and play outside. It's a quite affair. There is not a big breakfast or brunch. Something simple for dinner. There's not a ham or leg of lamb in sight. This year, my sisters and I are going to switch it up.

Confession: We are going to have a Fry Daddy dinner this Easter.

*gulp. I am so going to that place, where you fry, if you catch my drift.

The idea of a Fry Daddy dinner was brought up by my sister Robin's boyfriend Rob. When he was a kid, his family used to have Fry Daddy night. From what I understand, is that you deep fry everything in a Fry Daddy. Mushrooms, cauliflower, zucchini, potatoes, or what have you. That's what we are going to do for Easter. Not everybody is happy about this. Bill, my new brother in law, wants to do something more traditional. I'm pretty sure he wants a ham. The Man, is upset because he has to work and he wants some fried food. The sous chefs were perplexed, "What do you mean, everything is fried? We've never done something like that!" Katie wants to try deep fried Twinkies. Will thinks it's cool. Drew was like, "huh?" Nancy hasn't said much. What do you think?

Contest Time!

Every year when we dye eggs for our Easter Egg hunt, I make a money egg. The egg is dyed green with money signs all over it. It normally is worth ten dollars (I'm thinking twenty this year) and of course, it's the hardest egg to find. But my kids are getting older and wiser so I need ideas. My house is 88 years old, which means there's lots of nooks and crannies. It's 2 stories, with lots of tress and a little pond in the backyard. Give me a good spot to hide my money egg. It can be inside or outside.

The prize: you'll win a photo of your choice that I've posted on my other blog or on my flickr account. I know it's not much but maybe someone would like a photo for their time and effort. You have until Saturday the 22nd 8:00 PM PST to enter.

*my kids are banned from reading this post.

*it's also not going to be a home computer print. I will be going to a private lab to get the photo printed to the size you specify.

Another Pie Up! a little late...

Please read this post first.

I swear my sister, Stacey, makes the best pie crust. From the chick who said,"I can't cook." Blah, blah, blah. She had little Bill and all of a sudden she has become Martha Stewart.

When I told her about pie day, I asked her to submit her pie crust recipe. She did... 5 days late. But it's okay because it's that good.

the perfecto pie crust

2 1/2 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup vegetable shortening, cold
12 tablespoons butter, cold and cubed
1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

in a large mixing bowl, sift together flour, salt, and sugar. add the shortening and break it up with your hands as you start to coat it all up with the flour. add the butter cubes a little at a time with your hands or pastry cutter. work it quickly, so the butter doesn't get too soft, until the flour mixture is crumbly like cornmeal. add the ice water a little at a time until the mixture comes together forming a ball. at that point stop working it otherwise the dough will get tough. divide the dough ball in half and flatten them slightly to form a disk shape. wrap each disk in plastic wrap and chill in the fridge for at least 2 hours. *when rolling the dough out, i cover my work surface in plastic wrap because no matter how much flour you put down, this stuff sticks.yields two 9 inch pie crusts

FUBAR!

Do you ever have one of those days? You know the kind of day where nothing turns out right. Everything is fubar.

I had one of those days. I was trying to make this recipe. I have made it numerous amount of times. Like a bazillion times. It shouldn't have been a problem. Right?

I added all the ingredients. Followed the directions, but the cookie dough turned out crumbly and dry.

Everytime I used my cookie cutter (a bistro shot glass), the cookies crumbled.

>add whatever joke you like here<

Yes, that's my little, tiny, childlike hand.

I didn't want to throw away the cookie dough. So, I rolled it out on some parchment paper and baked it anyways.

And then I looked around. There was cookie mixture on the floor.

Ooops. I turned Big Bertha on too fast with just the cornmeal/flour mixture in the bowl. POOF!

More mess.

Even more mess on the cutting board.

Like any on-the-wagon soda drinker. I promptly fell off just looking at all the mess I had made.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. The cookies turned out nicely. But I still told the sous chef it was "you're the chef night" because the was no way in hell I was going back in the kitchen.

I snuck in later that night and made myself an omelet with asparagus and potatoes. The omelet turned out beautiful. So maybe it wasn't such a bad day after all.

Namaste

Both Andrew and I wanted to thank you guys for all your support. The last week has been very frustrating. Especially since baseball equals life in our family. This picture breaks my heart. Where is the little guy who was in the NICU with tubes running from his body and monitors beeping all around. Scared to death something was wrong. He's gone. I am now having to look up into his eyes. Long and lanky. When did his voice start to sound like his dad's? When did all this happen? Where did the time go?

Will was just as frustrated as Drew. What do you mean Drew can't practice? That's his brother, his twin, each other's wing man when they get older.

There are a couple things I wanted to touch on.

Pie Day made me happy. It is good to know there are good people out there who took an interest in each other. I was reading every blog and looking at their comments. I thought it was wonderful that each of you took the time to comment on each others blogs. The world is a good place.

I read some blogs because they soothe me. I don't even leave a comment because I'm afraid even the name evil chef mom screams too loud. If you have a chance please read shining egg's post about the blogging community and how we are all neighbors. I was trying to write something like her post to say thank you for participating in pie day. I gave up after reading her post. She did it so much better. Even though she doesn't really know who I am. Thank You.

Thank you to M. who left a private email about something she went through and what a franklin is. She affirms that while the internet is a huge and ever growing world. We can all reach out, lend a hand, and make contact.

I wanted to also say thanks to mayberry magpie. For all sorts of reasons. First, that she thought one of my photos could accompany a six word memoir of her life. I'm flabbergasted that anyone would think of something I did could relate to them. Second, she gives me hope that there are good people and good places in this world. Places where you could go jogging at night, places where kids could walk home in the dark on brick lined streets. Joan, your post about the pink door inspired me to take the time and really look around. To notice, to slow down. I have been running so much that I forgot some things.

For the next two weeks I will be posting pictures on my photo blog of home. My sanctuary.

The Tale Of The Creepy Baseball Coach

The Man, Rich, wanted me to post this picture because this is what he thought I was going to do to creepy baseball coach. Me, being Nolan Ryan not Robin Ventura. Is it sick that I love this picture? I think I love what happens after the fight was done. Nolan Ryan dusted himself off, buttoned the top button of his jersey with nary a scratch on him. Like Steve McQueen. Totally bad ass and cool as cucumber.

The Pioneer Women has her Black Heels To Tractor Wheels Love Story, I have a demented creepy Stephen King story. This story has been pieced together from trusted sources and actual phone conversations.

Let me give you the cast of characters:

Coach M: Boys Baseball Coach for 3 seasons

Coach H: The new permanently-ex coach.

Art: Northern Little League President

Me: mom and all around hard head and general pain in the ass.

Rich "The Man": ahh...what to say about my husband. He's all Clint Eastwood like, talks really quite when he's mad. My knight in shining armor. He's intimidating. Stand about 6 feet tall but looks taller.

Bully Son: Drew has been having problems with this kid for years. Hiding all of Drew things. Pushing him around, name calling, pushing and shoving. Typical bully stuff. I didn't contact the school until this year.br

Drew: 12 years old

Stats:

5'3"

110 pounds

Bats: Left /Throws:Right

outfielder/1st base/pitcher

.250 batting average

Will: 11 years old

Stats:

4'7"

61 pounds soaking wet with clothes on

Bats: Right/ Throws: Right

second base/third base

.300 batting average

3 time all-star

If you read the stats you want Will. If you go by looks you want Drew. Right?

In mid-January I went to sign up the boys. Filled out all the proper paper work, requested Coach M as the boys coach, and talked to Art about baseball, my sons and how they play in the same age group (important info) and how much the league has changed this season.

Flash to the first weekend of March. Baseball tryouts. I sign both of my boys in (pay attention to that little fact). Coach H shows up late.

Second weekend of March: Baseball tryouts again. My sons don't have to be there. I know I will be getting a call from Coach M Sunday. Coach M and Coach H have some words.

Sunday the Ninth, sure enough the phone rings at 9:00 am. It's Coach M.

"Hey Mrs. G. It's Coach M. I've got good news and bad news."

"Hey Coach! How are you?

"I'm not feeling too well. The good news is Will is on the team. The bad news is Drew was drafted by the other team."

"How'd that happen?"

Coach M explains to me that Drew was Coach H's first round draft pick and that he didn't want to give him up. Coach M tried to explain to Coach H that Drew and Will were brothers and it would create a hardship for us. Coach H said he didn't care. * I love my son but he isn't that great of a baseball player, he's good but not worth all this fuss.

I asked Coach if the bully son was playing for the other team and we all know the answer to this question. Then Coach M told me what I need to do. Call Art and explain what was going on, how it would be a hardship, the bully son and see if Art would trade him to Coach M's team.

Called Art and all I got was a bunch of grunts and yeahs and a click. I guess that conversation was over. Mind you I was not getting hysterical. I'm calmly and logically trying to explain to him what's going on. But this league is a bunch of hard core macho Mexicans. They discourage girls from playing baseball, Title IX be damned. We will not get started on that. It could be a whole other rant.

On Tuesday the 11th, I received a phone call from Coach H asking me why Drew missed practice. I told him I never received a phone call and I got, "of course I called you. I talked to someone older on Sunday."

Lie #1:no one was home on Sunday. No messages on the machine and no calls from any number on caller ID.

I calmly explained to Coach H that this would be a hardship for my family, my son's would miss games....yada, yada, yada. Brace yourself for what comes next.

Right now, WTF is running through my head because A: that's totally random and B: I don't even know you. You really think I'm going to let you come get my son? I know I complain about them and white on rice is going to adopt all of them but please that's just talk.

"I'm used to taking kids who's parents can't take them." Coach H said.

"Well, I'm glad you think that's the case but I'm a stay at home mom and I like to see all my kids games." You effen bastard is what I'd like to add.

"I don't care. Andrew is not going to the other team." Coach H tells me.

I decide to use the other tactic about the other team mate, bully son, and Drew don't get along. How that's not good for any baseball team. How principals and counselors have been involved this year. If they couldn't help this problem I don't think a baseball coach could.

"Well, I'm not an ordinary baseball coach. I'm a youth pastor and a youth counselor."

You condescending prick!

"I don't think that's going to help. I really don't want Drew on the team."

"He's not going to Coach M's team. I given him five players and made all these sacrifices to him." Ah-ha! He's pissed at Coach M. This has nothing to me, this has to do with how big his dick is and how much territory he needs to piss on.

"Okay, I guess this is between you, Coach M and Art. But he won't be playing for your team." See, I got a bigger dick than him and don't piss on my territory because you're messing with my family. Yes, this now became about me and how hard headed I can be. Yes, I know this is completely stupid.

The phone conversation promtly ended after that. I threw the phone I was so ticked off. Now it's getting ugly.

Thursday the 13th: Coach M, Coach H and Art are going to meet to discuss the situation. Coach H cancels the meeting.

Friday Pie Day: I get a call from Coach M. Coach H wants to take this to the District 8 Little League Board. I apparently didn't fill out a form stating I wanted the Drew and Will to play together. WTF? I have never had to fill out a form like that before. There's a form?!

Saturday the 15th: Practice for both teams. Drew is home sick. I'm sure stressed out about all of this. Poor Guy. My husband, the genius, sends me off to get Starbucks.

While I'm gone, he goes and talks to Coach H and Art. Apparently Coach H had to hear me nag for thirty minutes about bully son and he talked to the principal of Bully Son and Andrew and there are no problems.

Lie #2 and 3. The phone conversation was maybe 15 minutes and you can't just go call a school and get information on students. That doesn't happen. Thank God I was gone, I would have gone ballistic.

"If it's only a hardship then I'll trade him Coach M's team." Coach H told my husband. "Because there's no bullying as far as I can tell." Then there was something about being a youth pastor and bullying isn't a reason to be traded and he can help. Which is it; he can help with the bullying or there's no bullying? Make up your mind!

My husband won't tell me the rest.

The two things I learned:

1. There's still a long way for women to go.

2. Unless bullying has happened to someone near and dear to you, no one gives a shit. It's something to be dismissed. It's boys being boys. I use to think the same way until this happened to Drew.

The one thing that was reinforced:

People who talk a big talk about God are not very God like and they normally are very dismissive of women. Case in point.

Pretty Boxes

Some people would get very excited if they got a blue box.

I, on the other hand, love it when someone gives me a pink box. I get all excited to see what kind of goodies someone brought me. I'm pretty sure my priorities are all screwed up.

My neighbor, Reiko, gave this to Sous Chef Drew yesterday afternoon. Once I opened it, I knew exactly where it came from. My favorite place M&W Dutch Bakery. I'd give you a link but they are so old school they don't have one. I haven't had one bad thing at M&W. Ever.

But if you don't go in all the time the owner's wife scolds you ."Where have you been? I haven't seen you in awhile."

Great now on top of feeling guilty about all the stuff you are about to inhale, you feel guilty about not stopping by often enough. It's almost like a drug addiction and she's the dealer.

Sorry to cut this post short, I have to go. There's a piece of Tiramisu Cake with my name on it.