This Wasn't Supposed to be a Food Blog

But, apparently, it is.  Let's just hope it's a phase.  Because my ass can't keep up with all of these damn recipes I keep finding.

I found a recipe for Cheesy Chicken Pot Pie Cups on that site that I refuse to join.  However, the way she made them was far too healthy and didn't involve 505 green chili, so I had to mess with the recipe.

The way I made them is much easier, because I used canned chicken.

• 1 can/tube thingy of biscuits
• 1 can chicken, drained
• 1 can cream of chicken soup
• 2/3 c. shredded cheese (I used mexican blend)
• 2 T. 505 Green Chili
• 1 c. mixed frozen veggies
• 1 t. parsley
• 1 t. minced onion

Mix everything together (except biscuits).  Line the cups of a cupcake tin with smashed biscuits, mashing them up the side so the entire cup is lined.  Spoon the chicken mixture in.

Bake at 400 degrees F for 15 minutes (or until golden brown).

Betty Crocker Strikes Again

I really don't know what has come over me.  Used to be I only baked at Christmas.  Now, it seems like I'm baking all the damn time.  I think it's because I finally have a kitchen that I like and that I have some counterspace.  And having a dishwasher doesn't hurt either.

So Sunday, out of boredome, I was looking at that site that I swore I was never going to look at and found a recipe for Red Velvet Cookies.  And then I found another recipe I wanted to make; off to the store I went.

I bought everything I needed and then, on the way home, I thought, "Red velvet is just chocolate dyed with red food coloring.  I wonder what it would taste like with cayenne?". I called Bill and ran the idea by him, don't know why, because anything with cayenne is good by him.

They turned out pretty good.  I'm not a fan of white chocolate chips - I think they taste waxy and they're pretty gross, so next time I'll use regular chocolate chips, even if the cookies won't look as pretty.

Spicy Red Velvet Cookies

·         2 ¼ c. all purpose flour

·         2 ½ T. cocoa powder

·         1 ½ t. cornstarch

·         ¾ t. baking soda

·         ½ t. salt

·         ½  t. cayenne pepper

·         ¼ t. black pepper

·         ¼ t. cinnamon

·         7 T. butter, at room temp

·         6 T. shortening, at room temp

·         1 ½ c. granulated sugar

·         1 large egg

·         1 large egg yolk

·         1 ½ t. white vinegar

·         1 ½ t. Mexican vanilla

·         1 T. red food coloring

·         ½  c. white chocolate chips (or chocolate, they just won’t be as pretty)

Sift together the dry ingredients (except the sugar), set aside.

In a mixer, mix butter, shortening and sugar approximately 4 minutes until fluffy.  Add egg and egg yolk, mix to combine.  Add vinegar, vanilla and food coloring.  Mix until well blended. 

Slowly add in dry ingredients until just combined.  Add white chocolate chips.

Scoop onto lined cookie sheets and bake at 375 for 10-11 minutes.

I Might Be In Trouble

I swore, swore, swore I'd never play around on Pintrest.

Really, I did.

I haven't quite gone to the dark side and joined up yet, but I have found two recipes that I *have* to try.

Tonight.

Admit it...you want to make these too.


I've totally followed this blog,
because what I need is yet another blog to follow.

And I followed this one, too.
Photo cred: Cooking Classy
 

This is the last thing I need - something else to suck up my time on the computer.

I've managed to resist the siren song so far - I haven't joined.  But damn, I'm having a good time looking at all of the recipes.

Lord help us all, I'm on my way to the grocery store.

More Baking

I saw another recipe I just *had* to try.

All I can say is damn that Reese's Peanut Butter Cups facebook page.  No, really.  I've got to unlike that page - it's going to be the death of me.  Today's recipe was Peanut Butter Cup Banana Bread courtesy of Ambitious Kitchen.

I've never actually mashed bananas before.  And I'm pretty sure I chose the wrong tools for the job.  A wooden spoon and plastic bowl were probably not the best choice, but I eventually got the job done.

Thank goodness it tastes better than it looks.

We made a couple of changes to the directions.  Rather than make a big loaf, we made mini-loaves.  Mom makes an amazing banana chocolate chip mini-muffin and I thought these would be good in smaller portions.

Mini-loaf pans rock!

The recipe also called for sprinkling the top of the loaf with chopped up peanut butter cups before putting them in the oven to bake, but I didn't want to do that so we quartered a mini peanut butter cup and stuck them in each loaf after they came out of the oven.

All melty and yummy looking.

Because we altered how we baked them, we also had to alter the cooking time.  Jay suggested that we cut the baking time down a lot.  The original recipe called for baking the loaf for 55 minutes, but since we did mini-loaves, we baked them for only 17 minutes.

They're pretty good.  Maybe not quite as good as Mom's mini-muffins, but still pretty good.  I bet they're going to be even better cold, just like Mom's muffins are.

I'll send some to work with Jay tomorrow, because Lord knows we don't need two dozen of these things hanging around the house (or my ass, which is where the extra fat is going to go).

If you want to try the recipe yourself, you can click on over to Ambitious Kitchen.

It's Easy to Make Me Happy

I hear my kids groaning right now.

But, really, it is easy to make me happy.

Sometimes.

Last night was one of those nights that made me happy.  Jay and I went out to dinner just because.

I had a margarita with dinner...so good. I was celebrating long distance with Aunt Crazy and Mrs Mom.  They had birthdays this week and so I thought it would only be fair to raise a drink in their names.  I'm such a good friend that way.

After dinner, Jay suggested we go for gelato.  Basically, without even thinking about it, we recreated our first date ;)

I ordered my usual wildberry and raspberry gelato and Jay ordered some bizarre combination - pumpkin and blueberry.  There's no accounting for taste sometimes, chef or not.

Jay's guy dished up his gelato in no time, but I was getting impatient because my guy was taking forfreakingever.  So not kidding.  I mean, how the hell hard is it to slap the gelato into the bowl?  Half on one side, half on the other, stick the biscuit in and hand that bitch across.  Not difficult at all.

I might have muttered something along those lines to Jay and then I took a look at what my guy was doing.

He was making me a rose.  I shit you not.  A gelato rose!

The picture didn't do it justice.
In fact, the pictures make it look like girl parts.

I kind of felt bad for being so snarky, even if it was under my breath, because that silly gelato rose had me smiling all night.

Delicate Sensibilities

I've got a big work event coming up that requires some advertising.  The Publicity Coordinator has been working with one of our Graphic Artists to design the print ads. Our Graphic Artist is a rock star and has the patience of a saint.

That patience was recently tested, though, when our Publicity Coordinator took issue with the phrase "Pap Smear" in our print ad.

Apparently, it offended her and she thought that we shouldn't put that phrase in our ad.  However, that's exactly what the ad is for...free Pap Smears.  I'm not sure what else to call it, unless we use the actual name of the screening: Papanicolaou test.  Now tell me, would you have any idea what that was?

Nope.  Didn't think so.

So, I told the Graphic Artist to change the name of the screening to "Healthy HooHa".*

It's got a certain ring to it, doesn't it?

*not really, but it's the only other thing I could come up with.

The Patience Porch

About 11:00 this morning, I was sitting in bed reading when I heard the doorbell.  I decided to ignore it and then it rang again.  What the hell?

I wasn't expecting anyone, but I got out of bed anyway and slipped into my pajama pants.

I grabbed my gun (don't judge, it was an unexpected visitor) and stomped to the door.  I opened it and looked outside.  There was no one there, but I heard a car door, so I stepped out onto the porch to see who I'd missed.

I leaned over the railing to look down into the parking lot and didn't pay much attention to the door swinging shut behind me.

I didn't recognize anyone in the parking lot and turned to go back in the apartment.

Uh-oh.

No problem, I've been locked out of apartments before.  There's not an apartment I haven't been able to get into.

So...what do I have on the porch to help me break-in?  Let's see... wooden target stands.  Nope, not helpful.

Trap thrower...hey...maybe I can use that cotter pin to jimmy the door.

I spent a good bit jamming the cotter pin in the door, but it wasn't quite small enough, so back to the trap thrower I went.  Maybe I could straighten the spring to move the tumbler out of the way and then I can jam the cotter pin in and force the lock.

After a good half an hour of dicking around with the lock, it dawned on me that we don't even have a doorbell. So I managed to get myself locked outside of the apartment answer a doorbell that wasn't even ours!

So there I was, barefoot and in my jammies, locked outside the apartment on the porch.  My great idea of jimmying the lock with a cotter pin and spring didn't work and I was starting to get impatient. 

What else did I have on the porch to get into the house?  My gun and the legs to my trap thrower.  The door is metal and we live in town, so shooting the lock wasn't much of an option, so that left me with the legs to my trap thrower.

I picked one up and thought that maybe I'd be able to use it as a lever to break the doorknob off and then I could take it apart and get in the apartment.

Yeah, that didn't work either.

If only I had grabbed my phone instead of my gun to answer the door.

Shit!  I now had two choices, go downstairs to the cafe to borrow the phone to call Nebalee or wait for Jay to get off of work.

Honestly, waiting for Jay to get off of work was my first choice, but then I realized that I still had going on seven hours for him to get home.  The weather was nice, but not so nice that I wanted to hang out on the porch in my pajamas for seven hours.

So, barefoot, braless, in my pineapple pajamas, I gathered as much courage as I could and marched down the stairs to the cafe.

Please, please, please answer the phone Nebalee.  Nope.  That would be too easy.

I left a message and went back to the porch, mentally calculating how long it would take her to pick up the kids from gymnastics and head over here to get me.  My plan was to have her take me to pick up Jay's keys and bring me back.  Forty-five minutes, tops, I'd be on my way to getting Jay's car.

I did some crunches.

I did some stretches.

I paced the porch.

I walked down the stairs.

I walked up the stairs.

I sat down.

I did some crunches.

I did some stretches.

I paced the porch.

I walked down the stairs and sat at the communal picnic table, where I worked on my jailhouse art by using a stick to scratch "Dumb Ass" into the picnic table.

My first - and hopefully only - foray into prison art

 

Forever passed and the cafe closed.  Another forever passed and one of the cafe workers came out of the building holding the phone, "I think someone's on the phone for you."

Hallelujah!!

"Are you still locked out?" Nebalee asked.  I'm pretty sure she was laughing. 

Finally, three and a half hours after I got locked out help was on the way.

I walked up the stairs.

I did some stretches.

I mentally calculated how long it would take her to get here.

I did more stretches.

I walked down the stairs.

I sat at the picnic table and re-traced my artwork.

An hour later, Nebalee appeared.  I've never been so happy to see her car pull up, even if she was wiping tears out of her eyes from laughter when she realized I was still in my pajamas.

And then...I had to break the news to Jay.  Jay, the man who warned me not two weeks ago about how easy it was to get locked out.  Jay, the man who is probably still laughing at me.

But, there's some good news.  I'm fairly certain that our house is break-in proof.

Cucumber Strawberry Salad

The past few weeks, I've been battling tooth issues.  I've been rather cranky and Jay's a saint for putting up with me.  He made me the most wonderful salad.  In addition to being in pain, I was cranky about eating nothing but soft food, but he made me this amazing strawberry-cucumber salad.  It really was a life-saver.  It was nice and cool, which felt good, but still had enough crunch that it didn't feel like soft food.

I know it's the end of the growing season, but if you can scrounge up a cucumber and some strawberries, you *have* to try this.  You won't regret it, I promise.

Strawberry Cucumber Salad

• 1 cucumber
• 4-5 strawberries
• 2 T. white vinegar
• 1-2 T. sugar
• mint (if you'd like)

Peel the cucumber, cut the edges off of each side lengthwise and dice.  Avoid the seedy middle part of the cucumber.

Dice all but one strawberry. 

Chop the remaining strawberry to mush (to make a paste).  Put the mushed up strawberry in a bowl and add the sugar and vinegar, stir until the sugar is dissolved.

Combine the diced cucumbers and strawberries, dress with the strawberry/vinegar/sugar mixture.

Garnish with mint.

Ta-da!