There are no words...

But really, have I ever been able to have NO WORDS?

This is just wrong. And what are the toppings? Green chop sticks, a spool of red thread, and some pennies. I think the other red globs are blood stains. And that baby is NOT actually wearing it because that is one creepy smiling baby with a badly photoshopped hat.

This costume is available at Target.com for your lovely cherub at the bargain price of 24.99, followed by thousands of dollars in therapy because your kid has a serious fear of, well, being stuffed into a pizza crust. Imagine, a child who won't touch pizza! Devastating.

Last Meal Tells All

I found this webpage, because a post on The Nest for a free book that foodies would love. As I consider myself a foodie, and I like free stuff, I handed over my info in hopes that a free book will arrive at my house. Upon its arrival and it being read, I'll post a review; don't worry.

Any who, the author is a chef and pretty well known and has his own show, although I have never seen it. TIVO will be utilized tonight so that I may better acquaint myself. The point is coming, I promise. If you venture to read any of those links up there, you will see a section where he discusses what good food really is. In fact, he compares it to the "If you were on death row, what would you want your last meal to be?" game. We've all played. If you haven't, I am not sure why you are reading my blog and what is wrong with you? But he says that the last meals are very rarely, even in 5 star chefs, some elaborate gourmet meal. It is ultimately the most comforting food item. Or for girls, the FATTENING food item that you would only eat with the knowledge that the calories or effect on the hips will not better because, hello, you are going to be dead!

This rant leads to this...good food is oh so good. But it isn't what heals us or often what we truly splurge on.

My last meal:
a whole pepperoni, pineapple, banana pepper pizza (is it bad that I sing the Gwen Stefani song in my head to spell banana correctly??)
extra sauce on the side
garlic cheesy bread
alfredo sauce
Dairy Queen banana split with no pineapple, extra strawberry sauce
bottle of Chianti

This would be my last meal according to TODAY. It may change. I now encourage you to respond with your own choices.

Don't fret my pet!

Oh my avid blog readers. I wasn't so much sad as I was Writing Blocked.

I guess for a while I was on such a writing high, with people reading and telling me I was witty and what not. But then I didn't feel so witty anymore. And felt like I was just complaining all the time. I fear what you all would think when I was feeling really sad. I shudder at the thought like the hyenas shuddered when Moustafa's name was mentioned in The Lion King.

So onward and upward, right? I had a rip roaring time at BW3s last night. I also discovered that Boneless Wild Wings makes me very thirsty. Like wake up in the middle of the night thirsty after just having a dream about drinking mass quantities of water thirsty. And then TJ is all, "Are you okay?" as I am stooping eeirily at the end of the bed searching through my gym bag where I hoard free bottled water from the gym.

Yes, I have a Water Membership, not a Gym membership. I belong because they provide bottled water for members, and I can take one with me on the way home for later. So really, I pay for water and can work-out for free, baby!

Off topic, sorry. We played trivia with Brian and Barb, lovely friends of ours, and I learned:
um
crap
not sure what useless facts I learned

Wild Wings make me thirsty?

I'll leave you with a haiku:

Peeing while drinking
Does feel oddly connected
I dare you to try

This is who I am. This is what I do.

I have been feeling especially paranoid lately and it has caused me not to blog. The little voice in my head is all, "These people do not give two shits about what you had for dinner." or "They do not want to hear AGAIN about the crappy service you had at a restaurant." I swear I do not complain all of the time! But I get paranoid that I am always especially complimentary of myself and oh so critical of everyone else.

But then I think, "Yes, I am a bitch. Who cares?" Ha! I care so much that I tell myself I don't. It is like when the bath water gets so hot that it almost feels incredibly freezing on your skin as it turns it dark shades of scary red. I care so much it becomes not caring.

I fooled my husband with this for awhile. He thought I didn't care and he could joke or say what he wanted and it wouldn't matter, "Because man she is tough!" Oh the wicked web we weave...For our marriage, thank God he knows the truth now. I am as strong as my chili is spicy (another problem that I have. I mean, do I actually have to put jalapenos in there??).

In the same way that I tackle not remembering someone's name (I just tell them, "I'm sorry, but you are now Cody, because damn you do not look like a Logan."), I am tackling my writing issues.

Oh, and I love TJ with all my heart and it was he who suggested we use Chex Mix to make breadcrumbs for the fish crust. There, I admitted it. I feel much better now.

C is for Cookie

I heard a student say "Veggie Monster" yesterday. Is that really a new character on Sesame Steet? Veggie Monster? I mean, the essence of Cookie Monster was the irony of the name. Kids are not going to be scared of a Cookie Monster! But a veggie monster, they may indeed run screaming from. I know what I thought brussel sprouts smelled like as a child! They smelled like my dad's flatulence. And they smelled like my dad's flatulence because my dad LOVES brussel sprouts! I would run from that monster too! Now, my dad would also turn his eyelids inside out along with his lower lip turned over. Scary.

Subconsciously, I took this Sesame Street conversation home with me and made cookies! I baked Oatmeal Chocolate chip Peanut Butter Cookies. The biggest bonus, all of the ingredients were already in my cupboard! Because I am scared to death to go to crazy neighbor Sam's house to borrow a cup of sugar. Do people still do this? I wish they would! Mostly because there are times when I NEED something.

The cookies are very soft. I think they may need a wee more flour. Click on the link and it will take you to the recipe. And if you have a Kitchen Aid Mixer, this will take you all of 5 minutes to make.

Bison Balls for Everyone!

First, there is a new webpage called Bake Space. It is like MySpace but for people who cook. It is quite cool, quite new, so get on it! My name or profile or whatever on there is Kristylynn (so unique). If you want me to be a Kitchen Helper, you can add me, just like MySpace.

I included on my Bake Space page the recipe for Bison Meatballs. I made these Tuesday night and they rocked! One thing I normally do not care for in meatballs is that gritty dryness they can get. I use milk soaked bread in leiu of breadcrumbs, and it really keeps the meatball moist. Note: I HATE the word moist, so if I use it, you know it must be for damn good reason.

A good meatball has: garlic, parmesan cheese, breadcrumbs or my tricky milk soaked bread, parsley, egg, and any other special herb you may like. I had some basil around, so I chopped that up. I also had a little bit of Bob Evans Hot Sausage, so I put that in with the ground buffalo meat. Good meatball rollers (you know, the people that are good at handling and rolling the balls without over working, making them too small or big, making them too oily) will mix the meatball 'slop' with their hands so that it gets mixed evenly. We also know that it takes a little olive oil on your hand so that the meat rolls and sticks to itself, and not to your hands.
Note: the funniest part of the parenthetical innuendo is my mother in law reads this. Hi!

My point in having no recipe here is that, like me, you can just have a basic understanding of what a meatball generally IS, and then run with it! I had 1.25 lbs buffalo and added maybe an ounce or so of sausage, one egg and tossed in some of the other stuff and it made 15 meatballs the size of golf balls. Perfect for two people and then leftovers.

And because you read my blog, you get the little secret that makes my meatballs so extra great: fresh mozzarella stuffed in the middle. It is a nice creamy goo center. Mmmm, warm creamy goo. (Austin Powers fans: "Warm liquid goo phase")

What was the gum with the goo in the middle? I think there was even a Dr. Pepper flavored goo.

And I'm spent.

My Experiment with Fish Crust

I had these lemon potatoes at Tria once. Tria is a greek restaurant whose side dishes are lemon loaded (ohhh, nice band name). So I took a stab at the potatoes tonight. I tossed Idaho potatoes with olive oil and lemon juice (2 lemons), added salt and dry oregano and baked at 400 for about 50 minutes. I forgot to add...you MUST put chicken broth in the bottom of the dish so the potatoes do not dry out. And check as they cook. If the broth goes magically away, add more!!

Ah yes. The fish crust. I am a bit picky on waste. So the bowl I tossed the potatoes in with the lemon juice was also used for the salmon. I put two pieces of salmon in the bowl, added a bit more salt and oregano, and flopped it around (technical term). Then placed on a baking pan in the same 400 degree oven. After baking for about 5 minutes, I added a crust. The crust was made with pine nuts, three basil leaves, one garlic clove, chex mix, and a couple tortilla chips.

Huh? Chips? Chex? So a while back TJ and I were in need of bread crumbs. So we took the mini chopper jobby (little food processor) and put some left over spicy chex mix and blended. It worked! So for my crust tonight, I tried the pine nuts blended with some basil and garlic. It was too oily. Nut oil or something. So I added some tortilla chips...yay, notsomuch. So I added chex mix. Perfect! I then pressed it onto the salmon. And the dinner was a huge success.

Lisa made new friends last night. She commented on the age of a couple sitting across the wine tasting table from her, and then to make it okay, mentioned her cellulite. Cellulite, apparently, quite ironically, can easily smooth over the uncomfortable comments on age.

In a profession of elders, I've made the comment, "You are older than my dad." And then my department chair looked menacingly at me, realizing if he found me cute it could be construed as creepy.

After tasting 8 different wines, the cellulite comment ensued, and lead eventually to a piciture of her ass. Now my camera, if you recall, is broken. This photo was taken with a verizon cell phone (I now have their phone number btw and the man's name is George), emailed to Lisa, and then emailed to me. Of course it is now here.

How was the wine tasting at Spagio? Well, after tasting 8 wines and just a little food, Lisa was willing to bend over and have a picture of her supposed cellulite taken. What do you think??