Chocolate-covered bacon. Hell yeah.

So, down in Charleston recently, I popped into Ted's Butcher Block to pick up a salad. I'm trying to eat healthy. Know why? So I can eat stuff like chocolate-covered bacon while patting myself on the back and murmuring,

"Oh, dear, you are so healthy. You deserve this little treat. You are so special!"

While I was waiting for my salad, a lady came in with a really cute dog, possibly a French Bulldog. Maybe a Pug. I don't know much about dogs, but I liked this one. In addition to having a sweet temperament, it was very stylish. She was talking to the guy behind the counter, lamenting the fact that she had bought bacon somewhere random for her favorite snack. She burned the bacon and figured this was her payback for having been too lazy to make the trek to Ted's. I sympathized, because I think like this all the time. Might need to up the meds. Or not. Ted's is big on bacon. I've actually been to a bacon tasting there, something they host regularly. As you can imagine, a bacon tasting is a fine way to spend an afternoon, especially if you enjoy a glass of wine while tasting eight bacons. And enjoy another one afterwards while having a pedicure at the place across the parking lot from Ted's. But I digress.

I half-listened as the lady dropped such intriguing terms as "bacon," "chocolate," "crushed almonds and pistachios," "delicious" and "more bacon." I left with my salad. No sooner had the door closed behind me, I spun on my heel and went back inside. I had to know.

"Excuse me," I asked, clutching my salad and trying not to look psychotic, "Can you tell me just exactly what it is you do with the bacon? And chocolate? And almonds or pistachios?"

She was happy to answer and I didn't seem to make her nervous in the least, perhaps because she had the dog for protection. Today, I did exactly what she said. S'good.

Chocolate-Covered Bacon with Toasted Almonds

I found a package of bacon in my mother-in-law's freezer. Actually, I found several. I chose one at random. I think it was Oscar-Mayer and contained a reasonable amount of fat. I know that higher-quality bacon from a place like Ted's would be great, but we're here in Litchfield and I don't think the Piggly Wiggly has that. Or the Food Lion. Baking the bacon is the best way to go because you'll end up with nice, flat bacon. So I put the raw bacon on a pan lined with foil. When using other people's pans, you should always line them with foil, because you don't want to mess up other people's stuff.



Cook the bacon in a 400° oven for 15 to 20 minutes. Keep an eye on it and take it out when it looks ready, about like this.



While the bacon is cooking, put some chocolate in a double boiler. If you don't have one, make one by using two pots and filling the bottom one with water. Duh.



As far as chocolate goes, fancy is always good. I used this kind by Hershey's, with 60% cacao because it was the fanciest thing the Pig had. After it melted, I realized I needed more chocolate. The Tank was asleep, TF was playing tennis and the big kids were far too engrossed in some trashy television show to be responsible for the Tank while I ran to the store. Also, at the beach, a trip to the store takes like three hours, not seven minutes like it does at home. But I digress.

Given that my mother-in-law is French, I knew I would find chocolate somewhere. I found Dibs and Twix in the freezer, but I didn't want to take the time to remove the chocolate. In the back of the fridge, on top of some crumbled cellophane, I found the chocolate below. Although it had been left open, it smelled like chocolate rather than onions or cheese, so I threw it in.



I still didn't have enough and I remembered what the lady had told me,

"Nobody will admit they like milk chocolate, but they do, so use that with the dark."

I went in search of more chocolate. I found these in a drawer and added them to the mix, a lovely assortment of milk and dark chocolate.



They were a little harder to melt.



I toasted the sliced almonds with very little fanfare. Aren't you impressed?



Finally, it was time to start dipping the bacon, which had cooled enough to touch. I wanted smaller pieces, so I cut each piece in half. You know what wasn't cool enough to touch? The melted chocolate. That hurt like a b*tch. I quickly located some tongs (meant for removing toast from a toaster) and used those to dip the bacon in the chocolate, letting the excess drip off before laying each dipped piece of bacon on a pan lined with waxed paper.

Before the chocolate cooled, I pressed toasted almonds into the chocolate. In the end, I had this:



I put the pan into the fridge for about ten minutes so the chocolate could harden. Then I put them on a plate which was only slightly more attractive.



Then I felt bad, because the X-Man is a vegetarian and my endeavor seemd unecessarily cruel, so I did the same thing with strawberries. Yum.



And, dear reader, we ate them.

Namasté, y'all!

Worst way to potty train ever.

What you are about to read is not good parenting, not at all. But we, the parents of the Tank, are tired of diapers. The Tank is not tired of them at all, but we don't care. Please click on the ads on this page as we are going to need a ton of money for therapy, now that we have decided to ruin his life. So, here it is, the worst potty training method ever...drumroll...wait for it...

We started putting him in underpants.

I told him diapers are too small for him. They do, however, fit him at night, as TF* has no desire to change the bedsheets every morning. We're at the beach this week, where most of the floors are hardwood, so an accident here or there doesn't really matter. It should be said, however, that they can't really be called accidents since he wasn't making an effort to use the potty. Can you fail at something you didn't know you were doing? Seriously, a few days into our trip, he's using the potty every so often by choice. We're down one pair of Bob the Builder briefs though, as TF made the executive decision to chuck all pooped-on pants directly into the garbage. I support this. Poop is gross.

Today, he went to the potty at the Joggling Board, a children's shop down here. He wasn't going to do it until I pointed out the cool blue water in the potty. Which he suddenly really wanted to pee in, perhaps to claim the cool blue water as his own. After this, I'm going to the store to get some of those smelly blue tablets for every single toilet we might encounter. I'll carry them in my purse. I'd rather do that than change another diaper. Do those things come in different colors? That could be fun.

This is a big week for the Tank. On his first day in underpants, he also learned to ride a bike. The lack of padding and the presence of the bike seat led to a lot of crotch grabbing and "I have an owie!" complaints. Didn't keep him off the bike, though. I think a child who can navigate a tiny bike through the legs of several adults without so much as grazing a toe can damn well use the potty.

If you were looking for further evidence of my stellar parenting, you won't find it here. This is the worst potty training attempt ever. Earlier this week, the Tank got hold of a pair of scissors. I took them from him and told him,

"Scissors are for guys who wear underpants and use the potty."

That seems fair, right? But I'm such a liar because I probably won't give him the scissors. Whatever. It's spring break, y'all. All about slacking off! Speaking of slacking off and less-than-perfect parenting, I made seven nine layer dip for dinner the other night. I think I should get extra credit for the two extra layers. I used the following layers:

• Refried beans, from a can, which I carefully assessed in the grocery store.
• Frozen corn, as per my brilliant sister's suggestion.
• Chopped green onions.
• Guacamole (I added a cucumber to the avocado in the blender, just like Gwyneth. Shhh...)
• Chopped tomato and salsa, from a can, of course.
• Shredded Mexican cheese blend, which I also carefully assessed in the grocery store. This one said "farmer-owned." And was the cheapest.
• Sour cream.
• Black olives.
• Cilantro.

I served it with chips, hot sauce, bubbly (for moi) and water (for everyone else, including TF, who still isn't drinking for Lent, but is planning to go nuts on Thursday, when his Lent** is over. Can't wait.) The dip was a hit. You can make it, too. Just layer seven to ten Mexican-type ingredients in a casserole dish. Or twenty in a trifle dish. If you do that, please send me a picture. This is mine:



And, for those of you who like this sort of thing, a close-up of the layers. Pretty!



Namasté, y'all!

* That's right, I make my husband change the kids' sheets. I'm the one with the stretch marks, so now it's his turn to suffer.

** His Lent is different from everyone else's. Don't ask.

Quinoa Week comes to an anti-climactic close.

Well. I don't love this recipe, but I liked it. And it was all I had the energy to make after a few days in Charleston for their Fashion Week. According to the Weekly Beet, I may be suffering from PFST. I agree with this diagnosis and must acknowledge that I may also be suffering from PCFS*. To aid my recovery, I'm eating nice and clean and avoiding alcohol, for at least a few days. I am one-hundred percent sure I'll be drinking heartily on Friday night, when we're finally going to Orangeburg to try Four Moons. TF almost gave up alcohol for Lent like he has never in the history of the world managed to do, but he tries and fails does every year. Honestly? I don't even think he tries that hard. Because if he is trying, and continues to fail, don't we need to acknowledge he has a problem. And doesn't that mean I, too, have a problem? Why don't you shut-up, fun hater? So, he's our driver, because Four Moons is far, far away, y'all. And if I'm going that far for a meal, I'm going to wash it down with plenty of bubbly so I can pass out for the long drive home. But I digress.

Anyhow, I have dessert fantasies about the quinoa. My ultimate goal is to roast it with some nuts and some sort of caramel sauce so it gets crispy, at which point I will crumble it over ice cream or just eat it. Any suggestions as to an effective way to achieve this would be welcome. I'm thinking a burnt caramel taste, like those almond bowls in fancy restaurants. I figured a quinoa pudding would be easy, similar to rice pudding, so I didn't try that, but I most certainly will some day. The breakfast quinoa recipe is pretty close to a dessert, actually. I decided to attempt the next easiest thing, Apple Quinoa Crumble. Crumble is like impromptu bread pudding or Bisquick cobbler - not fancy, no need for a recipe, not exactly company food, but way better than pudding from a mix. Unless it's the pistachio kind. Do they still make that? Is it as good as I remember or was I as desperate for sweets as my children are, because we both have mothers who are so mean they want us to eat healthy and never give us dessert? Would I still like it? These are questions for another day. Now that I think about it, pistachios would be an excellent addition to the Quinoa Crumble. Here we go...

Apple Quinoa Crumble

Pre-heat your oven to 350° and cut up a few apples. Put them in a buttered casserole dish. Sprinkle the apples with cider vinegar or lemon juice. I feel sure white vinegar wouldn't be the end of the world.



In another bowl, mix 1/2 cup cooked quinoa, 1/2 cup sliced almonds, a few big spoonfuls of sugar, quite a few shakes of cinnamon, a dash of salt and about 1/4 cup melted butter. Stir all that together**.



Spoon the topping over the apples.



Bake it until the apples are soft, 30 to 40 minutes. Spoon it over ice cream and drizzle a little bit of honey to add sweetness if you like.



Honestly, this will not be the most decadent dessert you've ever eaten, but it's a nice way to use up the end of that huge bowl of quinoa you cooked at the beginning of the week and it's pretty satisfying. Besides, it's pretty healthy, especially if you used frozen yogurt, which would probably complement it better than the rich, full-fat vanilla my kids bought with the twenty dollar bill I gave them while I waited in the car with the Tank, who was in no condition to go into a grocery store. I was going to send the X-Man in by himself, leaving O. at home alone for a few minutes (He's almost 11. Don't call CPS. Also, he is pretty smart.) However, the X-Man requested his big brother's help for the adventure because, he explained, "Sometimes I get kind of shy." Aw.

Incidentally, one of the most amusing things I ever did with those two was give them $5 and send them into Palmetto Candy and Tobacco*** with orders to buy whatever they wanted without asking for more money or fighting. They were five and eight years old and I sat in the car just outside the store with a sleeping infant and waited. I had taken them there before and didn't want to deal with the drama. Palmetto sells candy in bulk and they have big barrels of candy from bulk packages that ripped. The barrels are labeled "5 for $1," "10 for $1" and so on. There is at least one barrel with big stuff, each item costing a whole dollar. And there are sodas. And bags of potato chips. Anyhow, I think it's a fun place for kids to go, a Columbia institution, but I couldn't deal with the (literal) nickle and diming once we were inside. So I gave them the money and the orders. And I prayed. In less than eight minutes, they left the store, skipping past the cigar store Indian standing guard by the door, right behind a house painter heading back to his van and laughing his head off. In their little hands, they held more candy than they had ever owned at once. In an effort to save the environment, they decided they didn't need bags. There was candy spilling from their pockets, their shirts, their clenched fists and their socks. They were laughing so hard they could barely breathe. And they had change from the $5.

I had one of those "Oh." parenting moments. I avoided the whining, they felt really proud of themselves and kind of bonded over the whole experience and I didn't even have to wake up the baby. They learned about budgeting and teamwork. It was the feel-good moment of the year! Why didn't I think of that?

Namasté, y'all!

P.S. I have ordered something new and exciting, for me at least. My new thing is a Flip Video MinoHD Camcorder. I'll mostly use it for my other blog, but I'm sure it will prove useful on this one, too. Perhaps I will film myself dying my own eyebrows. Maybe I'll take higher quality videos of my lawn. Perhaps I will film TF snoring. Don't warn him, m'kay? I haven't gotten it yet, so if anyone knows of any reason I should not be wedded to this cute little camera, speak now or forever hold your peace. Opinions welcome.


* Post-Child-free Syndrome. Oh. My. Gosh. It was awesome. The first two and a half days were also husband-free. No offense to TF, but that was pretty awesome, too. Waking up whenever I wanted (9 am-ish,) eating breakfast in peace, showering at leisure, spending the whole day meandering...and I didn't have to rush back to get ready because, with no one around to "help," I can shower, relax, put on makeup and get dressed in fifteen minutes. And I wear a lot of makeup, y'all.

** Sometimes, I like to over-use the sharpen function in photo-editing software because it makes the food look more like dishes in a seventies cookbook, which I like. Discuss. Or not.

*** Which my nephew used to call "The Candy Meadow." How cute is that?

I love my life and I love me some quinoa.

Remember how you boiled a bunch of quinoa at the beginning of the week and kept it in a closed container in the fridge so you could use it as needed without having to boil it every time? Well, first of all, I think it would be nice if we could boil the hugest pot of it ever, divide it into freezer bags and take it out of the freezer as needed. Is this a good or bad idea? Discuss.

For the last two days, I've enjoyed Breakfast Quinoa, which is certainly not an original idea on my part, but I will tell you how to make it easy.

Easy Breakfast Quinoa

Put a pot on the stove.

Put a scoop of cooked quinoa in the pot.

Add a splash of your milk of choice. I used Rice Dream Supreme Vanilla Hazelnut, which is now being sold at a closeout price at one of my local Fancy Marts. Which scares me.

Cook those together for a bit, maybe until the milk almost boils, but doesn't.

Put it in a bowl and add your favorite dried fruit and a sprinkle of your favorite nuts*. I'm a fan of toasted almonds and this cranberry pomegranate mixture from Trader Joe's. Dried, tart cherries and pecans would be lovely, too.

This is so delicious, I can't even tell you. Like steel-cut oatmeal, but better. And, as you may have heard me mention, quinoa is the bomb because it contains all nine essential amino acids needed to qualify as a complete protein. The whole theory of complete protein is up for debate, but is that really my problem? Or yours? Nope. So, eat up. Quinoa is also very easy to digest, the perfect morning treat.

And here is yet another quinoa recipe (just try and stop me.) I served this on Friday night with steak, collards and rice. My sister finished what was left in the salad bowl in the kitchen after dinner, which made me feel a little sad because I had plans for that salad. Plans to eat it for lunch. But oh well, because I still have cooked quinoa, so I can make it again. Whenever I want.

Toasted Quinoa Salad

In a pan with olive oil, sautée a scoop of cooked quinoa, a handful of frozen corn and a handful of pine nuts. Almonds would be nice, too. Or pecans. Any nuts, really**. Let them get a little bit brown.

While they cool, dump a whole bag or clamshell box or mess of salad greens in a pretty salad bowl. Add the quinoa, corn and nuts and much less vinaigrette than you think you need. Your favorite oil and vinegar-type dressing will be just ducky. I am currently having a hot and steamy affair with the vinaigrette from local restaurant Moe's Italin Grapevine. Rumor has it the Social Pig might start carrying it. That would be great. Toss everything together and serve. Yum.

And what about the rest of this post's title? "I love my life," in case you weren't paying attention. Why, you might ask, would I need more than the joy of quinoa? Well, I don't, but I'll take it. Simon and Schuster sent me an advance copy of a novel coming out this summer for review. It is the sort of novel I happen to love, about glamorous ladies with interesting and cute problems that (I hope) are eventually solved. I think "Chick Lit" sounds a bit dismissive, but I love it so who cares what we call it? Anyhow, I have read so many of these novels, I often can't find a new one in the library or book shop. Or I buy one and half-way through, realize I've already read it. I can't wait to dig into this one. And, although this may seem like nothing to some of you, I'm tickled pink that someone wants my opinion. I'm tickled pink that I've turned sharing my opinion about stuff I like into a job. I really, really am. And, gosh darnit, I feel fancy.

Namasté, y'all!

* That's what she said. No, really, she did. I heard it.

** Why are you even looking at this? You know what's coming...that's what she said.

What does he mean?

My dear husband TF "almost wants" to do a lot of stuff, as in,

"I almost want another helping of that pork roast."

or

"I almost want to keep fresh basil above the sink all the time. It smells so good."

or, the most annoying one my personal favorite,

"I almost want to break Lent and have just one beer."

I fail to understand how you can almost want to do something. I mean, either you want to do it, you don't or you are confused. His "almost" means something else entirely. Usually, he does in fact want the full-fat pork/beer/third Krispy Kreme/tickets to his umpteenth Morrissey show very much, but he wants my permission. I have three children, not four, so I refuse to entertain this sort of behavior. He can either do it or not. Not my decision. In the second example listed above, he wants me to do it. In that particular case, he hopes I will voluntarily obtain fresh basil every week, keep it in a cup of water and make sure it stays fresh for his smelling pleasure. I don't want to do that - not almost - just don't. So, like the grown-up that I am, I...um...don't do it. His mother would probably oblige, as this seems like the sort of thing French people do, and this is just fine by me. But I won't do it. I also won't passive-aggressively not do it when it might be convenient, because I am either passive or aggressive, rarely both at once.

Speaking of being passive, I'm not much for dragging myself to the gym, but I have to go, because I am old, have three children and eat like a trucker. And I like booze. I teach Pilates so I can get a free gym membership and also so I will be forced to go there. Unsurprisingly, I like to chat while I teach. I talk about any number of things - trying really effing hard not to cuss - including food. People in gyms love to talk about food. After all, our love for food is often what brings us to the gym in the first place. I try to keep it healthy, so of course I had to talk quinoa. One of my totally awesome clients passed on this recipe, from something called the Sonoma Diet, and as she expected, I love it. So did my kids. And, given that I almost want to wholeheartedly endorse, nay* insist on cooking quinoa a second time before serving, I had to alter the recipe just a little. This is my so-close-to-the-original-it's-not-even-really-different version.

So-Close-to-the-Original-It's-Not-Even-Really-Different Sonoma Diet Southwestern Grain Medley (Catchy, huh?)

Put some olive oil in a big pan and heat it.

Add a heaping half-cup of frozen (or fresh, you go-getter) corn and a heaping cup of cooked quinoa to the pan. Sautée them for a little bit, until they're brown. Sautée them long enough to add the following to a large bowl:

1/2 cup cooked brown or wild rice. I use the frozen kind in the little pouches from Trader Joe's. How freaking lazy is that? Bite me.

1/2 cup canned black beans, rinsed and drained.

1/2 cup chopped red bell pepper.

1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper.

1/2 cup chopped and seeded cucumber.

a thinly sliced green onion.

a whole lime's worth of lime juice.

a big splash of olive oil. I recommend using lemon-infused olive oil if you have it. Good stuff.

a little bit of finely chopped fresh jalapeño pepper.

a bunch fresh cilantro. I love cilantro, unlike TF, who almost hates it, but has managed to narrowly avoid hating it. Even though he almost does. So I don't add too much, but I put it on the table so the rest of us can go nuts.

Now that the quinoa and corn are lightly toasted, add them to the bowl with the other stuff and mix it all together. Season with salt and pepper. Or not.

Now eat it. So good, so healthy. Do you still like me? I still haven't had any caffeine. I think it's been a month. Wheeee!

Namasté, y'all!

* Nay. Another word I hate. I once heard it used in casual conversation, by someone not even almost British who tried to play it off as totally normal. I could barely contain my laughter, nay, my hysterical guffawing. I almost wanted to let loose. But I did not.

Quinoa Week 2009!

So. I love quinoa. I really do. It's a nutty grain, chock-full of complete protein. That's a lie. It's not a grain. It's seeds. But still, it's delicious and I love it. To participate in quinoa week, you will need to boil a large pot of quinoa and refrigerate it, cooked, in a sealed bowl. If you are going to eat quinoa every single day for a week with me, you'll want to pre-boil it, because I cook it again once it's boiled, because who likes boiled food? So go ahead and get that out of the way. Incidentally, you'll need to combine one part quinoa with two parts water and boil the whole mess, covered, for ten to fifteen minutes. Since you'll be re-cooking it, there's no need to boil the crap out of it.

Today's quinoa delicacy is a stuffed red pepper, several actually. Why be selfish? Start with your peppers. Find a casserole dish that holds them exactly, because non-GMO peppers are not always flat on the bottom and you want them to stand up in the dish. You do use organic, non-GMO peppers, don't you? If you need to add more peppers than you have diners, never fear, the dish reheats well.



I forgot to tell you this, but you should have pre-heated your oven to 450° F, so do that now unless you are the kind of person who reads ahead. I'm not, which leads to recipe disasters, but I like surprises. Drizzle the peppers with olive oil and roast them for about ten minutes.

While they cook, put a scoop of cooked quinoa for each pepper into a frying pan of heated olive oil - I highly recommend lemon-infused olive oil, available at your local Fancy Mart. Throw in a handful of pine nuts, a really big handful.



Toast the nuts and quinoa in the frying pan for a few minutes, probably until your peppers are ready to come out of the oven. While your peppers cool a little bit, mince a handful of herbs. I used basil, mint and chives, but go nuts and use whatever you like. If you don't have one of these, get one.



Don't bother with an expensive one unless you're giving it as a wedding gift. Even then, only get the expensive one if you actually know the couple. Just make sure it has two handles like mine, so you can easily rock it back and forth as you chop all sorts of stuff, like garlic, ginger, herbs and Sour Patch Kids. These are the chopped herbs. I took the chopped herb picture with my old camera. I hate my old camera. Is that mean? Whatever. It's not a person, it's a camera*.



In a bowl, mix the toasted quinoa and pine nuts, chopped herbs and a handful or two of some sort of crumbly goat cheese. I used Split Creek Farm goat Feta and Oh. My. Gosh. Was it ever good! You might think this is gross, but I used my finger to wipe the remaining goat cheese from the inside of the container and ate it. My beloved Rosewood Market** carries Split Creek Farm goat cheese. Enjoy! Drizzle more olive oil and maybe some salt into the bowl as well.



And now, we are ready to stuff the peppers. So, um, stuff them. Pack the stuffing in with a spoon so you can get a lot in there.



Put their little hats back on and roast them until they're a little black on top, ten to fifteen more minutes. You can do everything early in the day - or even the day before - and leave the final roasting for when you're ready. If you want to pull one out and save it to roast for lunch the next day, go for it. Here we have the stuffed, not yet re-roasted peppers.



Bring a bottle of balsamic vinegar to the table and harass everyone until they pour some over their pepper. I didn't take a picture of the final product because I was hungry and couldn't wait to eat. Yum, yum, yum. At least in my world.

Namasté, y'all!

* Why is there only one picture in here with my old camera? I could skip this explanation, but I don't want anyone to lie awake at night. I broke my new camera by dropping it on the bathroom counter. That's not as creepy as it sounds. I was taking a picture of a beauty product for my other blog, not nude photos of myself. Why would I want a record of that? Anyhow, I made this dish the other night, before the rock stars at Southern Photo fixed my camera in record time. I didn't like the way it came out, because I didn't par-roast the peppers before stuffing. I also didn't like the pictures, taken with my old camera, which I now know for sure is a piece of sh*t. So I made it again, but I forgot to take another picture of the herbs and I thought you should see them. I'm embarrassed that I didn't even ask the Southern Photo guy's name, so excited was I about having my camera back. Thank you, Southern Photo Guy. Did you ever know that you're my heeeeeeeero? You are the wiiiiind beneath my wings! I love you, man.

** Hey! Guess what! Rosewood started carrying my favorite fish taco seasoning by Simply Organic. I bought a bunch, but I left some for you, so you can make fish tacos. Ooh! Know what I just thought of? You could add quinoa to the fish as it's cooking and it would add a nice texture. Must try later this week.

Detox Days 4 and 5.

If I had a personal chef, I would eat like this all the time. Well, except for a couple nights a week. And maybe one brunch. Last night's steamed salmon was sick, as the kids say about that which is totally awesome. I can't take credit, as the recipe came from my new best friend Gwyneth's website, but I need to share.

Steamed Salmon with Fresh Herbs and Kale
(Mille mercis à Gwyneth Paltrow Martin.)

I thought I didn't have a steamer, but the ever-generous worldwide internets informed me I could take a trivet, put it in an inch or so of water in a pot, place a plate on top of that and place the food to be steamed on top of the plate. I was going to do that, but then I realized I did have a steamer, kind of like this one. Hooray! I do not have a fancy steamer, like this one, but I won't be getting one because I don't think fancy is always better and I don't even have room for the new juicer I bought earlier this week. Huh. Actually, I kind of want one now. Maybe we should remodel the kitchen to create more storage space. WWGD*? I used to have one of these, but had to throw it away after my kids destroyed it doing something involving Legos and little plastic guys that I didn't understand. But I digress.

As instructed, I lined the bottom of my steamer with fresh herbs, whatever I had on hand, which happened to be basil and mint. I chopped up a green onion and put that in, too.

I laid the two salmon fillets (TF has jumped on the bandwagon, mostly because he doesn't want to cook for himself), skin side up on top of the herbs and onion. That's all I did. Really. I let them steam for 11 minutes, exactly as instructed, because I am not a rule breaker**.

After 11 minutes, I added torn kale, backbones removed, and steamed everything for another 7 minutes. I served it after drizzling lemon over the salmon and a little balsamic over the kale. The recipe didn't call for balsamic, but I figured Gwynnie wouldn't mind, because the diet included balsamic in some other dish. It was so good, TF and I decided we will never prepare salmon any other way. I can't wait to try it on Sunday night with another kind of fish, quinoa, and roasted squash. I do plan on cheating again and using a little olive oil to roast the quinoa just the way I like it. Wait, I don't even think that's cheating, because I'll need olive oil to roast the squash and olive oil was on the menu earlier in the week. I. Love. This. Diet.

For lunch, I ate all the veggies I wanted dipped in the delicious carrot and ginger dressing. Radishes were my favorite. For dinner, TF and I had cucumber and avocado soup, which we plan to enjoy in the summer with a side of boiled shrimp and a bottle of prosecco.

I can't wait to go to the All-Local Farmer's Market at Rosewood Market tomorrow and act all superior go nuts smelling all the produce. I'll look like a freak, and not for the first time. Try it. S'liberating. Vegetables smell so good to me this week. Might have something to do with the absence of caffeine and alcohol in my diet. Dammit.

Namasté, y'all!

* What would Gwyneth do?

** That's not entirely true. I'm not a flagrant rule breaker. The other day, I ran a stop sign, not 100 feet from my house, right in front of a sheriff's deputy.

"WHOOP!"

The siren sounded and I pulled over, knowing exactly what I had done and very embarrassed. My children, of course, were in the car. Rather than pull in behind me, he pulled to my side window and said something like,

"Ma'am, I know a lot of people roll through stops like that, but they don't usually do it in front of me."

I apologized profusely, feeling like a complete idiot, and thanked him. He told me to be more careful and left. When we pulled into the driveway, one of my kids (do you really expect me to keep track?) said,

"He let you go because you were polite and told the truth."

So I guess we're teaching them something. Even if it is something they learned when they were in the car the last time I got pulled over after almost taking out a mail carrier. But they should also know that sometimes you don't get a ticket because it's 5:30 pm, the guy is on his way home and traffic tickets aren't really his problem. And some deputies are very, very nice. Thank you, sir!

Have had far too much coffee to start that detox today.

And the coffee will remain in my system for a while, so I think I should wait a few more days. Also, I'm having dinner at Dianne's tonight with some friends and I don't think I can detox just yet. I am, however, trying to be a touch healthier. I pulled out my old copy of Vegan Vittles, which is a surprisingly good cookbook, considering there is no meat or cheese or even butter in any of the recipes. So, they have this recipe for dip, Glorious Green Olive Dip, to be exact. Although you may find this shocking (I know this avid meat and cheese eater did), the dip is pretty glorious, on everything from chips to celery.

I did not exactly have those ingredients, so I improvised and I really, really like my new dip. Yo.

My New Spicy I-Can't-Believe-It's-Vegan Dip

In a food processor, combine the following:

• 1 box soft silken tofu. You can find this in the Asian section of most grocery stores. You don't even have to go to the Fancy Mart, but you can if you like, because the service is better. But I digress. Do not look for silken tofu in the refrigerated section, because it is not there.
• 1 garlic clove.
• 1 Chipotle pepper in adobo sauce and a spoonful of the sauce, more if you like it hot. These peppers can be found in a can in the Mexican section of the grocery store.
• a few heaping spoonfuls of Nutritional Yeast. It sounds gross. It looks gross. It does not taste gross. I promise! Sprinkle it on popcorn with a little salt. And it is very, very healthy. And not gross. My favorite Fancy Mart, Rosewood Market, carries it in bulk.
  
• 5 or 6 green olives and a splash of olive juice from the jar.
• a handful of fresh basil.
• a dash or two of salt.
  
• some lime juice. I would recommend a lot of lime juice. I like lime juice. I used about a third of that plastic squeezy lime.

Purée everything until it looks creamy. Now add a splash or three of olive oil and blend for a few more seconds. I liked the dip with celery, but it was even better with red pepper. Tortilla chips would not be a bad vehicle for this dip. It also made an excellent sandwich spread. And was healthy. Woohoooo!

I will be detoxified in no time. Or not.

Namasté, y'all!

Risotto = Advanced San Francisco Treat.

First things first. Dear Ron Aiken, I like to steal your idea of using Something=Something for a title. S'funny.

Now, let's chat about risotto. It has a fancy-sounding name. It's often referred to as a rustic dish by fancy food people (Rustic = You must be very fancy to achieve this dish, originally prepared by peasants far more sophisticated than you.) With all this fanciness going around, we must assume the dish is fancy. Thing is, it's delicious, even better than the the San Francisco Treat you adored as a child. And thanks to its fanciness, you can serve it at a dinner party, a fancy dinner party. And I know, because I am Miss Super Fancy Pants.

Do not fear risotto, intimidating as it may be. I learned to make it from The New Basics Cookbook*. Anyhow, The New Basics taught me two essential rules:

1. You need about four times as much liquid as dry rice.

2. All in all, the rice should cook a total of 25 to 30 minutes.

If you follow those, you're golden, just like your risotto. Use a recipe the first time or two, then improvise away, like I did yesterday. I was forced to make Sunday lunch for my family, because my parents went to early church**. As I was home in my pajamas, a trip to the grocery store wasn't appropriate, so I opened the fridge. I found Arborio rice***, a single serving container of cream cheese from Panera, a leek, some turkey stock I had frozen, the last of some marinara sauce from Moe's Italian Grapevine, pine nuts, white wine and the end of a container of shredded Parmesan.

Leek Risotto

Heat about two tablespoons olive oil in a big pot. Add one leek, sliced into half-inch pieces. Sauté the leek until it's soft, about three minutes.

Add about a cup Arborio rice to the pot and set your kitchen timer for 25 minutes. Stir the rice until it's coated with oil.

When the timer is at 22 minutes, add about a half-cup stock, which should be simmering on another burner. Keep stirring. Remember Risotto Rule #1: You need about four times as much liquid as dry rice. In this case, I had a little less than four cups simmering, so I added a half-cup white wine.

When the stock is absorbed (i.e. When you scrape the spoon across the bottom of the pot, you should be able to see the bottom for a few seconds before the risotto settles), add another half-cup. By the way, use a wooden spoon, which is gentler on your rice than metal, and a pot without non-stick coating. Non-stick coating does yucky stuff to rice and food in general. You don't need a non-stick pot, you need to use more oil and keep a better eye on your heat.

Keep adding stock, a half-cup at a time until almost all of it has been added. When almost all the liquid has been absorbed, add about a half-cup marinara sauce, a single serving container of cream cheese from Panera or wherever and maybe a little pepper. Keep adding the rest of the stock until it's all gone.

Have you been keeping an eye on the kitchen timer? You did set it for 25 minutes when I told you to, right? Well it should be almost at zero now. You may, if necessary, add five minutes more.

At the last minute, stir in a handful of pine nuts and about a half-cup shredded Parmesan. You may, of course, add salt and pepper if you like. Now eat it. Don't wait, because risotto should be served hot, hot, hot!

Namasté, y'all!

* Which you should get. I used mine so much, it fell apart. My friend Gabrielle kindly offered me an extra one she had. I'm breaking it in, because all my favorite pages in the old one had food on them. I can't find anything in the new one without using the index.

** We go to the 9 am service. Not true. I force TF to go with our kids while I stay home and laze around in my pajamas sucking down coffee and reading the paper, because Sunday is the only damn day I can do that and I went to church as a child and TF didn't, so now we're even. And I don't feel guilty. Dammit. work. My parents usually go to that service and take us out to eat afterward. Because they went earlier, we would have had to pay for lunch ourselves. Have you heard? Apparently, the economy is less than stellar at the moment.

*** This site provides an excellent, brief and very funny explanation of Arborio rice.

An entry full of footnotes...

Namasté, y'all!

P.S. I had to say that first, because the rest of this entry consists of footnotes, which traditionally follow the sign off. Duh.

* Frogmore Stew should also be served with little ramekins of cocktail sauce. Cocktail sauce = ketchup + horseradish, proportions to be determined by the chef.

** I bought the dryer at Beauty Basic Supply, online. Here is the link. I don't get a kickback from that site, but I wish I did, because I know y'all are all going to order one. If I had a dollar for every...

*** The rollers are large, pink velcro rollers, purchased at Target. I bought the biggest size. I clip them on with metal clamp-style clips, but plan to switch to rippled bobby pins soon because I heard they don't leave dents in your hair.

**** For those of you who think you shouldn't get the dryer because your hair is too short: Get it. Leave it out to remind yourself not to get a haircut. Kind of like those freaks who hang a bikini on the fridge to keep themselves from eating. But not at all like that because big hair is a far nobler goal than a tiny a**. Bottoms of all sizes and shapes can be cute. Hair, on the other hand, is best when it's big.

***** I'm thinking of ordering two or three more dryers, so I can have hair parties at my house. We can talk really loud over the noise of the dryers and read celebrity magazines. Is this a good idea? Discuss.

****** The baby blue Jaguar was totally from Nancy Drew. I was a huge fan. How could I not have realized this? Cool!

******* I saw my aunt and her mom yesterday heading into Devine Foods for lunch as I was leaving LaRoque. They are so much fun. I had already eaten, but I sat down for a Diet Coke and one of their awesome cookies (chocolate, nuts, oatmeal, raisins...excellent). Aunt K asked for my Baked Brie Recipe and I remembered promising to share on my blog. It's more like a list of instructions than a recipe. As an aside (because I can't really do a footnote to a footnote, now can I?), I was very flattered to be asked by Aunt K for a recipe. She's one of the best hostesses and cooks I know. Color me tickled.

Baked Brie

Take a can of Pillsbury Crescent Roll Dough, the scary kind that explodes when you peel off the wrapper.

Open it, lay it flat in a pretty oven-safe serving dish and press out the perforation marks with your fingers.

Take a small wheel of Brie and cut it into two layers, like cake layers.

In between the layers, put some jam and nuts, whichever ones you have in your pantry. Apricot jam with pecans is nice. Or fig jam and almonds. Or raspberry and cashews. You get the picture.

Place the Brie, Jam and Nut Sandwich on the pastry and fold the pastry in until the Brie is enclosed. If you are artistic, maybe you will make a nice design. If you are me, maybe you will cram it closed any which way and turn it over for cooking.

Cook until it's done at whatever temperature the package says.

Serve it and try to ignore the mocking of your husband who is half-French and thinks this is an abomination. Don't be smug when it disappears and your guests rave.

Stuff southern people like.

One thing we like is Frogmore Stew, also known as Beaufort Stew or Shrimp Boil. I like to call it Frogmore Stew because that seems elitist and I'm nothing if not fancy. That's not true. I just like the way Frogmore sounds. Also, once I visited Frogmore and it was pretty, although I didn't eat stew there. I think I had spaghetti or ham, but that's beside the point. Actually, something kind of interesting happened involving a really old woman sitting buck-naked in her parlor drinking rum puréed with a fresh peach after an early morning swim in her pool, but the details escape me.

Last night my brother-in-law, sister-in-law and their three children came for dinner. I planned to order pizza (told you I was fancy), but changed my mind after my awesome sister* gushed about her New Year's Day dinner with my aunt. My sister is on the low end of the adventuresome spectrum when it comes to food, having only recently ventured beyond Cheerios, bananas and yogurt. She described a delicious meal consisting of corn, shrimp and sausage. How could she have missed Frogmore Stew? She grew up here. I can only imagine she saw it, suspected it had "weird stuff" in it and headed towards the chicken fingers. But I digress. She's had it now and that's all that matters, praise the Baby Jesus. Besides, if the stew hadn't been so notable, she might not have mentioned it and I might not have remembered how easy it is to make. She even sent me a recipe**.

I varied the recipe a little for a smaller crowd and also because I can't stand to follow directions. Maybe you like to follow directions.

Frogmore Stew***

Get a huge pot. I love this pot, a wedding gift, and think about the friends who gave it every time I use it****.

The pot was already out, as I had used it earlier to make turkey stock with the leftover carcass from the barbeque at our party. I know what you're thinking: That party was a while ago and the carcass must be rotten. Au contraire. The carcass had been in our neighbor's freezer - ours was stuffed with party food - and they brought it back, frozen, a couple of days ago. Now I have a freezer full of turkey stock. I know what you're thinking: The freezer is full of party food. Au contraire, silly. We ate the party food at the party. We had the space and had simply forgotten about storing the carcass at the neighbors. I'm proud to report they returned it, rather than keeping it for themselves, which proves they aren't thieves. Good neighbors are worth their weight in shrimp. Hoo-whee, did I ever digress right there, y'all.

Put 3-4 quarts of water in the pot. If you like, substitute seafood stock for some of the water. I like this one:

Add 1/2 cup Old Bay Seasoning, as many shakes of cayenne pepper as you like and a couple of heaping spoons full of sugar to the pot and bring everything to a boil.

Once the water's boiling, add about 1 1/2 pounds of new potatoes, sliced in half, and let them cook for 15 minutes. I wholeheartedly endorse the cooking times in the recipe my sister sent, so I copied them.

Next, add 2 pounds sliced Andouille Sausage. I found some at the Social Pig, in the fish case. They must have known what I was thinking.

After 5 minutes, add 6 ears of corn, cut into thirds or quarters.

After 5 more minutes, add 3 pounds of shrimp, beheaded, not peeled. The Social Pig carries Port Royal shrimp. Excellent.

Cook everything a few more minutes, until the shrimp is done. Drain the water, cover a table with newspaper and dump the stew.

Stand around and eat it with your hands and your beverage of choice. My husband enjoyed his customary pink bubbly (or "Dry Rosé", as he likes to call it), with ice because he's even fancier than I. My brother-in-law chose Bud Light, while his wife sipped Chardonnay. I stuck with the holiday theme and had some sparkly Pol Clément Brut. Miraculously, they all worked. Forks are optional.

Namasté, y'all!

P.S. Yes, y'all, that is the New York Times. Just more evidence of our consummate fanciness. So is my use of the word "consummate." You know what word I hate? "Tout" and all its derivatives. That word irritates me so much.

P.P.S. Please see important addendum to this entry here. Merci, y'all.


* As opposed to the un-awesome one - you know who you are, hooker - who keeps beating me at Scramble on Facebook.

** My other sister, the hookerish one, would never send me a recipe. She'd be too busy playing Scramble. Well, actually not, because she's nice, probably nicer than the other sister. But I still think she stinks.

*** I have a feeling I'm going to get in trouble for claiming my recipe is for Frogmore Stew. Oh, well. Go ahead and school me. I've been schooled before.

****K, M, S, S and L: Love you. Love the pot. Think it's way cool you're still such a huge part of our lives. The true beauty of the pot is that we would never have bought such a thing ourselves, a huge, heavy-duty behemoth of a pot. It came from the Gourmet Shop, stuffed with all sorts of cool stuff like fancy olive oil, super-fancy balsamic vinegar, grapeseed oil and an iconic stainless steel ladle. We wouldn't even know about grapeseed oil, a mildly flavored healthy oil perfectly suited for stir-fry thanks to its ability to withstand high heat, if it wasn't for that gift. I love grapeseed oil, I love that pot and ladle and I love y'all. I really do. *sniff*

Tagged by Blog O' Beth.

And I like the Blog O' Beth and she provided a nifty little graphic, so I'm going to do it.

I'm supposed to write five predictions for the new year. I like guessing games and this is one, so...

1. I predict The Tank will learn to use the potty by March, no matter what he says. "I said nooooo, thanks!" "I can't like dat potty." "I don't care my potty." "Dat potty's not for me." Lies. All lies.


2. I predict these artists, The Half and Half, will become wildly successful. Your political views notwithstanding, I love the print below, which we bought a few months ago and my husband had framed as a Christmas gift to our family. Barack Obama will be the first political candidate my two oldest children remember supporting and, in case you hadn't heard, he is our first non-white president. About damn time.




3. I predict my marriage will get fun again. Seasoned parents, we've finally realized we don't get along with a toddler in the house. In fact, if we ever do this again, I will suggest separating and sharing custody from the time the toddler is one and a half until he acts like a human, around three. Then we can get back together. Also, my husband's father died this year, which was rough. And, I started working more for the first time in our marriage. Tough year, y'all. Good thing we're both funny as hell.
   


4. I predict the real estate market will go wild and these excellent realtors I know in Columbia, South Carolina will make so much money they'll take me and my family on a tour of Europe.


5. I predict I'll be about the same weight and look about a year older one year from now.

And I'm tagging...Faith the Atomic Blonde, Lisa of Blonde Appetit and Sam of Baan Sawan Thai Bistro. I predict they might not do this thing, but I hope they do, because I think it's fairly entertaining.

In other news, today is New Year's Day and, out of silly superstition and fear, I rushed to the store at the last minute and bought the ingredients for the easiest good luck meal ever. Should you ever be in the same desperate situation, please return to this post.

Black Eyed Peas (Not Quite Hoppin' John)

Buy a 2 pound bag of frozen black-eyed peas. Dump half of them in a pot with 2-3 cloves chopped garlic, a can of Rotel tomatoes and about a cup of water, enough to cover the peas. Bring them to a boil, turn down the heat and let them simmer until they're tender, a little over an hour.

Serve over rice. I used the ready-made frozen kind from Trader Joe's. Hell yeah. Sprinkle crispy onions from a can on top.

Collard Greens

I stole this idea from the brilliant Tracie, with whom I took an excellent New Year's Day walk along the river earlier. The walk was followed by lunch with my family and Tracie at Liberty Tap Room where we watched the Gamecocks act stupid and I enjoyed a scrumptious Red, White and Bleu Burger. My husband was cracking jokes about people from Iowa being "Idiots Out Walking Around." That idiot shared the joke with some local judges, who happen to be Iowa fans. I had to point out that Iowans have been doing more than walking around. They have been playing football, unlike some teams I know. But I digress. Collards...

Heat a splash of olive oil and a few spoonfuls of Miso in a pot. I bought Garlic Red Pepper Miso at Rosewood Market recently and I love it so much I want to marry it. Add a chopped onion, some soy sauce and a splash or three of vinegar. I used cider vinegar because I had it, but rice wine vinegar would be just ducky. Add an a**load of sliced collards to the pot, wilting them as you go so everything fits. The X-Man and I bought four bunches and used them all. His New Year's Resolution is to eat at least one vegetable a day, which he apparently has not been doing. Do I get that Mother of the Year Award now?

Cook them until they're done and add more vinegar and/or soy to taste.

Pork Roast

Put a boneless, 2 1/2 pound pork roast in a Reynold's oven bag with 1/4 cup of something liquid. I used Shealey's Bar-B-Que Vinegar and Pepper Sauce.

Make a sauce out of shallots, jelly, ketchup, vinegar and some seasoning. I added equal parts ketchup and Cherchie's Lem'n Hot Pepper Jelly to the pot, heated them and added about 1/3 cup chopped shallots. I know shallots are fancy, but they're milder than red or yellow onions and hold up better than green onions. Then I splashed in some vinegar until it tasted right. The sauce simmered for a while. I have no idea how long, so don't ask. I didn't add any seasoning, because the Lem'n Hot Pepper Jelly was interesting enough. You could use apricot, orange or apple jelly and add chili powder. Oh, wait. I lied. I used a little garlic salt.

The roast will take about an hour and a half to cook - the directions come in the box of Reynold's Oven Bags, which rock. You can make the other stuff during that hour and a half. You can also drink about a half bottle of Chardonnay, which I did. Mwah!

Namasté and Happy New Year, y'all!

I will not be the #&%-hole*.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: Parties are the new bars. Friday night, we were invited to a party. This party was a little bit different from a bar, because it was really far from my house. We chose our house based on its proximity to our kids’ school our church charming shops our dear extended family bars. Neither we nor my hard drinking über-responsible** brother-in-law and sister-in-law wanted to drive. In fact, when my husband suggested we draw straws, I said, "FIne. But if I lose I'm not going." Ergo, I started calling car services.

One such service offered a stretch limo at the low, low price of $75 an hour. This included bar service, television and something that was vaguely described as "mood lighting." That didn't quite seem like what we needed. Next I called Aiken Limousine and Transportation (1-877-648-5466). The word "transportation" indicated to me they had normal cars and I liked that they had a toll-free number, because it made them seem like a legitimate operation. The price was totally acceptable, our driver Landa-rhymes-with-Wanda was awesome and the car, which I pictured as a Honda Accord, was a glamorous Lincoln Towncar, no mood lighting, thank goodness. We've been discussing selling our cars, canceling our insurance and using the car service all the time. But I digress.

I called the day of the party to find out if I could bring anything. The hostess, a good friend who lives way out in the country, has asked me to pick up last minute necessities in the past, like ice, because I live in civilization near stores.

"Well," she answered, "L. is bringing tomato pies and deviled eggs, S. is bringing dessert, K and D are bringing a pork roast and V. is bringing her artichoke dip, so we're all set."

I screeched into the phone, "Why didn't you tell me it was a potluck? Did you think I couldn't handle bringing a dish?" Well, I didn't really screech, because the Wellbutrin takes the edge off nicely. But you get the picture.

My "friend" informed me there was one other person showing up empty-handed, our friend K. She only asked people to bring something if they offered. I had no desire to be the #&%-hole, so I cut her off and announced I would be bringing something. Exactly what was yet to be determined. Let K be the #&%-hole, I figured. She has thick skin.

I called my sister-in-law, who was bringing her famous artichoke dip***, to discuss. Always a positive thinker, she decided this had potential. We could make a game out of turning one guest into the #&%-hole at every party. And then make fun of them, mercilessly. There was even discussion of creating a special hat, which the #&%-hole would be forced to wear. We worried for two seconds about hurt feelings. My sister-in-law concluded any one of them would just say, "Haha! Party for me!" and wear the hat with pride.

So, we didn't make the hat, but I did make the appetizer, a personal favorite. I've shared it before, but now I have pictures. Here it is, yo.

Smoked Salmon Endive Appetizers

I started at the Gourmet Shop, where I bought about a quarter pound of their smoked salmon, which is the best in town.

I paused in front of the Viking Pbrrrt and wished I had one. My Pbrrrt broke recently and this one is just like it, but with special features, such as a little bowl attachment that turns it into a tiny food processor.

Next, I called three different grocery stores to locate Belgian Endive. I live in a small-ish town and it behooves me to call so I don't waste time. I bought a bunch of Belgian Endive. Then I went home and started working.

Get a bunch of Belgian endive, cut the bases off and make a bunch of little boats out of the leaves.

In a mini food processor, mix a handful of chives and mint (which you should be able to find in your yard as they are weeds)

and equal parts mayonnaise and cream cheese, until they're totally blended.

Put the mix into a zip-loc bag and cut one corner off, so you can squeeze little dollops into the endive boats.

Now put a piece of smoked salmon on top of each one. Yum.

Take the leftover mush and put it in a little container to use as a sandwich spread, such an improvement over mayo alone.

Take the mis-sized bits of endive and make your husband eat them. He's old and needs the fiber. It'll keep him regular.

When you bring an appetizer to share, you won't have to hide your #&%-hole face at the party.

Namasté, y'all!

* I would say "a-hole", but I said it on the radio Friday and my parents weren't happy.

** My husband once described how he felt jogging down, early on a Sunday morning, to retrieve one's car from a bar parking lot. Equally responsible and irresponsible. Avoiding a DUI is wise. Drinking so much you can't drive is not. But we are what we are. He jogged down there extra early so no one would see our car on their way to church. Hiring a car service inspires that same feeling. Should we really feel proud of ourselves for knowing ahead of time we'll behave badly? Is there maybe a lesson on self-awareness here?

*** Mountains of parmesan, several dollops of mayonnaise and a jar of artichoke hearts, drained and chopped. Stir together and cook in a 350° oven until it's a little bit brown at the edges. So good!