blaugra

You won't find this deliciously moist chocolate cake on Pinterest!

Why?  Because 1) the photo below is TERRIBLE. and 2) it's an old family recipe.

I just baked this for my mom's 81st birthday. All she wants for her birthday now are some lottery scratch-offs, a nice dinner, and for someone else to bake her a cake. This is our favorite cake recipe. You can't screw it up. Believe me, I've tried!  And it's so moist you can probably enjoy it without frosting. Here it is, the best chocolate cake you'll ever make! (the secret is the coffee!)

Mix together:

    2 cups flour

    2 cups sugar

    3/4 cup cocoa

    1/2 tsp. salt

    2 tsp. baking soda

    1 tsp. baking powder

Then add:

    2 eggs

    1/2 cup oil

    1 cup coffee

    1 cup milk

Bake at 350 degrees.  30 minutes for a 9x13 pan, 25 minutes for two rounds.

 

 

Happylicious

I haven't written in a while, huh? I even forgot my Typepad password. Oy vey! But my friend Katey told me she just went to a blogging conference in North Dakota and I thought, heeeeeey I haven't blogged in a good long time.

"Today, think about what makes you happy. Don't leave this conference without having that one happy thing in your mind, and focus on it." that's what the speaker said to do at an event I just attended. 

I went through a time where little made me happy. Those of us with depression know that well. I won't dwell.

At this event, I thought, hey wait a minute, there is something that has made me consistently happy over the past couple of years:

Cooking dinner.

Some days, cooking dinner is the best part of the day. I love planning meals for the week, looking for new recipes that will make both me and Salty D. happy, and trying new flavors. I like figuring out what to make with leftover ingredients so I don't waste cauliflower or parsley.  I'm not a culinary genius or even a foodie, but there's something so satisfying about tackling a new recipe.

Many days, all afternoon on the job, I look forward to getting home and cooking. If I have something going on after work, I'm slightly bummed about missing my time with dinner.  Occasionally, I have turned down weeknight events so I don't miss preparing a freshly-cooked supper.

I credit some of this to Weight Watchers, and I still use their recipe database to plan meals and try new things. Weight Watchers pretty much requires that you plan ahead for healthy eating. I'm no longer satisfied with pantry pasta, a jar of sauce and frozen meatballs. Wait-  I admit, once in a while that's pretty darn good comfort food.

One of my favorite things to do with dinner is to time the plating of the meal so it's done at exactly the time Jeopardy! starts. Salty D. and I love to watch Jeopardy! Like an old married couple. We yell at the contestants and shout out the answers. While we're eating.

On nights like tonight, I'm bummed because I have a Zumba class. Zumba doesn't finish until 7:00, then I have to go home and make dinner. It's ready to be heated up, but, still, I have grown to love my routine.

It simply makes me happy.

Summer Vegetable Farro Salad by Weight Watchers features fresh dill and is so scrumptious! 

Salty D. doesn't like it but whatever.

Wine. Whine.

I like drinking alcohol.

I really do.

Summer is summer with a gin-n-tonic or vodka gimlet in hand. A good dinner is made great by a bottle of wine. Baseball games are synonymous with a cold beer. A buzz is a good thing.

Not drinking is hard. Drinking a Diet Coke at a happy hour when friends are taking advantage of drink specials sucks.

When you order that Diet Coke and the bartender throws up his hands at you and says, "Diet Coke? Why Diet Coke, come on!" That just adds to the challenge. When this happened recently, I responded to the bartender, "Work with me, here!"

My therapist advised me to order fun spritzers! Cranberry and club soda, for example. I tried that. All I could think was "What a waste of calories. No buzz."

I'm a social drinker. However, admittedly, I've overindulged a few too many times. Most recently, some of the indulgences were to counteract the symptoms of the bipolar disorder that the medications weren't taking care of. Self-medication. Admittedly, these times were really fun.

Now that I'm getting stabilized, the point has been made to me that I ought not drink. The alcohol interferes with the medication.

Every once in a while, though, I have a Guinness. Guinness is good. Or a glass of wine. The doctor said a glass of wine would be fine. But wine no longer tastes good to me and I get a little nauseous. That's a crying shame because wine is one of God's great creations. Diet Coke is not. 

I don't want to go through the rest of my life without drinking. I'm just going to say it and I don't care if I sound like I'm a whining baby when the world is full of heartache and hardship. I really don't. I would like to feel that buzz and taste that -- as one of my friends calls it -- nectar.

I know I could go searching for a natural high from a fucking green smoothie or a rigorous hot yoga class instead but I'd honestly rather have some cool Hendricks gin and sparkly tonic with a slice of cucumber on a warm sunny day.

Are you on the wagon? Tell me how you do it.

Winter Vacation, day 11

If you got a box of pears for Christmas, here's a really good idea for them: pear martini. Marinate sliced pears in vodka. Puree pears, mix with vodka, shake in a cocktail shaker with ice, pour into glasses garnished with pear slices. It was delicious. I had three sips that did me in at the party last night.

Later in the evening, as predicted, I fell asleep on the couch next to a six year old. It was 1:00 am. The party this year was mellow and we ended up watching a lot of Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve. How did Jenny McCarthy keep her eyeshadow so perfect and what work has she had done on her face?

Our hosts made us a big brunch and we got back home mid-afternoon. The reality of the end of leisure is hitting me. This is my last day of lazy vacation.

Time to go pick up Chinese food for dinner.  I forgot to defrost the petite pork roast I have, so I'll cook that tomorrow and wish for good luck in 2013.

The Date Game

This is a glass dish full of - not moldy dirty sand balls - but stuffed dates.

My mother told me last week that she was going to have her stuffed dates at Thanksgiving. I rolled my eyes and said, "MOM! Stop making so much food! We can't possibly eat it all!" Because aside from her, I'm the only one who will eat the stuffed dates even though I don't enjoy them like I did when I was a kid.

Her response:

"Well you don't have to eat them, but I have to make them because it's TRADITION."

I did have to eat one, and take some of them home (and so, see post below.)

Stuffed Dates are a holiday tradition that goes back a couple of generations in my family.  I loved them as a kid.

1 package of dates

Creamy peanut butter

White sugar

Open package of dates. Cut each date longways. Stuff with peanut butter. It's OK if they're messy. Roll each date in sugar.  They have to harden a little bit, then store in a Tupperware container or a tin on the counter. They can sit out in a candy dish next to a little ceramic holiday figurine, too.

Peachy Piglet! And brunch advice requested, too!

Despite the horrible images of food factories still in my head from Food Inc., I ate a delicious pork dish for dinner. I made it before I watched the movie and served it tonight.  It was especially good because I used buy-one-get-one-free boneless country ribs.

Want the recipe? Here it is!

1/2 cup peach preserves, more if you want

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

1/4 cup Dijon mustard (the grainy kind)

2 teaspoons Ancho chili powder (not a lot of heat, just flavour)

allspice!  I used about 12 whole allspice but you can grind up just a touch. Gives it a little Jamaican somethin.

salt -n- pepa

Stir the ingredients together, throw the pork into a crock pot, and then cover with the peachy mixture. Cook on low for a few hours, like at least 5 hours. The pork will fall apart or you can easily shred it for sandwiches or, as I like it, with fresh mashed taters.  And the recipe is friendly to the gastro-esophogus business. 

The recipe is adapted from this, my favorite inspiring cookbook. Bon Appetit!  It's green, like my nails right now.

Jade is the New Black!  Thank you, All Lacquered Up.

Now to my request for advice.

I'm hosting my mothers and family on Mother's Day for brunch. What a novel idea.

I'm serving Creme Brulee French Toast casserole, sausages of various funky flavours, scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and caviar with creme fraiche, fruit, bagels. Do greens have a place on the table?  A green salad with fruity dressing?  Asparagus?  A mustardy potato salad with green beans?  I really don't know. I'm considering my guests and some of them might want veggies but what would complement the creme brulee french toast (which is the centerpiece of this brunch) and savory eggs?

I'm never eating at McDonald's again.

Not that I eat there anymore anyway, but, now I'm really, really never going to crave their fries or a Shamrock Shake. Because I just watched Food, Inc. 

McDonald's is the largest buyer of beef and potatoes in the country. So the food supply has been engineered to be fast and cheap and low-quality because of the demand of McDonald's, and it affects, what, like, 90% of the agriculture in our country? Vegetables are tainted with e. coli because the water supplies are being polluted by big pig farms' poop. Small-time farmers are bullied by big companies who have the FDA on their side because the directors of these entities are all the same people and they all know each other. 

As a descendant of what I thought were large scale farmers -- dairy, beef, poultry, wheat, apples -- most of whom have been bought out years ago, it sickened me. 

No, it sickened me because our food supply is genetically modified, hormone filled, ammonia treated and poisoned. Is it any wonder that our current generations have so many reproductive problems, mental illnesses, infections?    

OK, without freaking out any more, here's what's easy for me to do. 

• Don't let myself be seduced by labels on grocery store products that say "farm-fresh" "wholesome goodness" or "direct from the farm."  
• Actually buy direct from the local farm sources.
• Buy products that are labeled as organic.
• Learn about what labels mean. If it says "natural" and "hormone free" is that for real?
• Spend more for the quality of what I put in my body.
• High fructose corn syrup really is empty poison. Nothing good comes from consuming that.
• Avoid fast food restaurants. 
• Demand good food.  

Food can either make you live, or make you die. 

So it's do-or-die time. If you are fortunate enough to be able to afford good food, then buy it. That's your vote for good food, fair treatment of farm workers, for your fellow human beings, your family, and your life.

Advice from an Esthetician and Further Substantiation that I am Addicted to "Beauty" Products

I went back to Lucy the Latvian for more face prodding.

Her work around my sinuses sent streams of tears and snot down my face, which is not embarassing at all. I didn't need as many spots of calamine lotion on my face last night, although Salty D. still called me Bambi because he said it made me look like a spring fawn.

What's interesting is the advice that Lucy gave me during our special time together.

Sunscreen:  "I don't like sunscreen, because it does not block the correct rays and it is just chemicals that clog the skin. The skin is better without, unless you are at the beach all day. Sunscreen is big business."

Foundation: "Only use little bit where you need. Get the kind with the least chemicals."

Moisturizer: "You must moisturize. Otherwise the dry skin gets into the pores, mixes with oil, and clogs them."

Dermatologist recommendation: "Only New York. The dermatologists in this area, I don't know what they do. They are very different than other places."

Yes. You could say that about lots of things.

While she recommends certain products (including using this stuff not as a nighttime spot treatment, but as mattifying day cover-up for oily skin)  she is quick to advise where home remedies work better.

Deep cleaning mask: I'm a big fan of Queen Helene Mint Julep masque, the classic tube of green clay stuff usually found on the bottom shelf at Walgreen's or Sally's. I don't know how Lucy feels about that so I'm going to follow her advice for a while and see how it goes.

Take a raw egg white, stir it til it's foamy. Add 10 drops of lemon juice - from a real lemon, not the concentrate in the little bottle. Apply to the face and let dry, do it once a week.

Not that putting egg whites or lemon on the face is a big revelation. I have shared that I've smeared half my kitchen on my face at some point: honey, oatmeal, avocado peels, yogurt, salt, rosemary, plus lemon and eggs, but all a la carte.  Another really great homemade exfoliant that some friends swear by: Mix plain yogurt with sugar, apply to wet skin and rub.

I know that lots of sleep and water and exercise are really the only "secret" to great skin, and not anything you can find during the beauty breakthroughs hour at 1 am on QVC, but it's so much fun to search for the magic potion.

 

Up-Chuck-E-Cheesy

I picked up my little friend/nephew Bertie at his school yesterday. We were going to go for a night out on the town while his mom was away and his dad was working. 

Bertie is really smart. And he knows how to play me, Auntie Laura. But sometimes I can pull one over on him.

I installed him in the car seat, and before he could beg me to take him to Dunkin Donuts for a blueberry munchkin, I gave him a bag of snacks - fruit punch, a cheese stick, and cheddar cheese goldfish. Headed him off at the pass. Yessss!  Cheese is his favorite food. He told me he appreciated the snacks as well as the bag so that he could put his snack garbage in the bag and he was impressed that my car was so clean.

Did I mention the kid is 5 years old?

Our plan was to go to Toys R Us so Auntie Laura could buy him one toy, then to dinner, then to Chuck E. Cheese (a.k.a. Hell On Earth) for gaming.

The kid is obsessed with Star Wars. But the new Star Wars, the Clone Wars stuff.  I heard more about the relationships of Anakin and Captain Rex and Commander Cody than I ever thought I would need to know. 

He led me through Toys R Us, swiftly, I don't know how because everything is so distracting and full of colors! Sounds! Hello Kitty aisle! Wait a minute Bertie I just have to look at the Hello Kitty purses! He humored me. Then, "Come ON Auntie Laura, we have to get to the Star Wars action figures!"

Bertie's been talking non-stop about getting a Clone Captain Rex figure. Apparently Captain Rex is a tough guy to find, as I'd discovered on other shopping trips. So tough that Bertie's dad had just ordered one from ebay and was really excited to give it to him.

The kid immediately spotted the ONE Captain Rex in the entire aisle. Before I did. Before I could have pulled a switcheroo and hidden the elusive Captain Rex so that he couldn't find him.  Then he'd be really excited when his daddy gave him the special-ordered captain.

I spent the next 20 minutes attempting to distract him. "Check out this rebel ship that transforms into a Captain-Rex-like-character!"  "Look it's Count Dooku! Oh...you already have him?  Don't you want a second one, just in case?"  in case what? that was lame.  "General Grievous! What a cool name. No...?" We were sitting on the floor in Toys R Us with 10 thingies lined up in front of Bertie. I tried my hardest to sell each one of them, while he clutched Captain Rex with his little hands. Fuck. I'm gonna ruin a specially planned father-son moment if I buy Captain Rex for him. Finally I called his dad and explained the situation and his dad said, "Well, that's OK, avert the crisis and I'll just deal with Captain Rex later."

Bertie skipped alongside me to the car. He's still at the age where he will grab my hand to cross any street or parking lot. Which is so very cute.

He freed Captain Rex from his confining package and started a monologue about Rex and Anakin going to get Jabba's son and I was all "Jabba...you mean THE HUT?" WTF I thought Jabba the Hut was a bad guy who chained up Princess Leia? 

And then "AUNTIE LAURA!! I LOST CAPTAIN REX'S HELMET!"  3 minutes is all it took. How do you parents hold on to your patience?

"Are you freakin' kidding me, Bertie?!" not the right response, Auntie Laura. Thankfully it was found in the middle of the street. He then put it in his mouth to clean it off. COME. ON.

I wanted to avoid eating at Chuck E. Cheese because I didn't want to be held captive by the Giant Rat Cabaret. So I was hoping I could convince Bertie to eat a kids' meal at Chick-Fil-A (could any of these places have names that aren't all cutesy?) but that didn't work out in my favor. We had to go someplace where they served lameass macaroni and cheese accompanied by FUNNEL CAKE STICKS and another new toy.

FUNNEL CAKE STICKS.  Shit. That's like Pennsylvania Dutch crack, especially with the little dippy icing.  I was all, "Bertie are you done with those? Because I can take them off your hands..."  He's not old enough to know that these aren't even half as good as a real carnival funnel cake. And what's with Burger King and the stick-foods?  Apple Fries?  They're just cut up apples. Why call them fries?  Don't get me started on chicken fries either.  Ironically, the BK french fries made from POTATOES really sucked, *sigh* If I'm going to eat a small fries I should do it at McDonald's.

Walking into Chuck E.'s on a Tuesday night, I was surprised that it wasn't very crowded at all. It was actually kinda quiet. BECAUSE IT WAS 8:00 PM ON A TUESDAY. What kind of auntie am I !?

We had our run of the place, and my fave games were there! Well almost all my fave games. No Galaga. But we were high-fiving during our Skee-ball tournament, laughing uncontrollably playing some squirt gun race thing, and screaming on the Arctic Thunder. Wait, that was just me screaming. I freakin' love that game.  Candy Ice FTW!  Bertie was like, "Really, Auntie Laura? We have to play this one AGAIN?"

I lost track of time, and Bertie's dad called and was all, "Where are you guys? Are you bringing him home soon?"  oh, yeah. We cashed in all our prize tickets and went to the counter to see what we could score. 

Along with the horrific animatronic rodent cabaret, Chuck E. Cheese really screws up with the prize counter. Unless you have a thousand tickets, you get shit. Or puke. Really, the only things Bertie could pick from were those giant phallic twistie lollipops that the counter guy and I mutually decided with one look between us would not be offered as an option, or plastic fake vomit, hard candies that 5 year olds don't eat, and a crappy ball. All that was missing from the crapload was a giant pencil.

We were at the gates to Meltdown City, and I was not about to drive into them.

Bertie wanted a prize upgrade, which would mean spending eight dollars more to get a slightly less crappy toy. The negotiations began. The whining. The indecision. The final decree from Auntie Laura: "Just get the ball. We're going." The verge of tears.  His, not mine.

So I summoned the power of a higher being and said,  "If you don't get off the floor and come with me now, I will not let you keep Captain Rex."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"

Fine, then let's get out of this germ-infested monument to the 1980s.

Totally tangential: at the entrance to Chuckie's you get your hand stamped. I was like, what, is this a night club?  Duh. On the way out, I realized that they had stamped our hands with identical numbers, which only they can read under the purple light, to make sure that I was leaving with the kid I came in with. That totally creeped me out, thinking about people taking kids at ChuckE's or maybe getting drunk on the scotch that they packed in a flask and taking the wrong kid out the door with them. Sick.

Chuck messed it up with the crappy prizes. Plastic upchuck?!  Really? 

Bertie held the ball he won and before we even got to the car he said, "I hate this ball. It belongs in a dumpster."  He attached himself to my leg like a broken puppy.  Waaaah. 

I had to do some damage control, talking about all the great fun we had and how all that fun is really the prize for the night, not the shitty ball. Nice try. And when that logic failed to make him completely happy, I just asked him more questions about Captain Rex's amazing talents.

Followed by: "Auntie Laura?"

"Yes, Bertie."

"Auntie Laura [he has to say it twice], could you help me find Captain Rex's helmet? I lost it."

p.s. Here is another photo I found of Captain Rex. Just his CROTCH. Who posts a photo of only the crotch of an action figure?  I mean, besides me?

p.p.s. We found the helmet.

Crispy Tortilla Eggs, what's so wrong about that?

Yesterday, all day, I was dreaming of dinner. One of my faves: 

Crispy Tortilla Eggs with Avocado & Lime.

Salty D. dislikes. Are you surprised? 

So in planning for my feast, I made a big steak the night before, with roasted potatoes and mushrooms that were cooked in a buttery-wine sauce. I knew we'd have a hunk of meat-n-shrooms left for him for last night so that I could indulge.

Of course, Salty D. doesn't like leftovers, even when it's really good NY Strip that I got on special at the blue-hair market, and really good mini-bella mushrooms and it was all prepared with care and love and pretty plating.

Back to me.

My auntie occasionally sends me recipes from The Splendid Table and this one was a home run.  It's salty-sweet-lively-crisp-smooth-soothing.

The original is in the Splendid Table's cookbook. This link here is an adaptation. And below, is my adaptation.

Ingredients:

6 corn tortillas, either stale or lightly oven-toasted.  Flour tortillas don't work. Corn are better for you anyway.

Olive oil

1/4 chopped sweet onion

4 eggs, whisked up.

Salt, pepper

A lime cut in half

Avocado, sliced

Crema (mexican cream, sour cream, or my favorite, non-fat plain Greek yogurt)

Salsa

A handful of shredded cheese of your choice. You don't want the cheese to overpower. 

Extras you may want to include: cilantro, pepper sauce, jalapeno peppers, red or green chile, beans... lots of variation possibilities as long as the tortillas are crisp and the eggs cooked.

Warm a couple T's of oil in a skillet. Stack the tortillas and cut them into strips and add them to skillet. Don't stir these around, just let them crisp and brown for a few minutes. Add onion and stir a little bit. When the strips are crispy and the onion cooked, push them toward the perimeter of the skillet and pour the eggs into the center, letting the egg go where it wants and moving the skillet so that egg can all cook. It should look like a nest.

Add salt & pepper, and this is the time to throw on the cheese or your other selected toppings like peppers, beans, cilantro. When the egg is set, you're done. Throw a big piece onto a plate. It might look like a wacky pie slice. I like to pile the avocado, yogurt and salsa on the side to allow for lots of custom combinations in each bite. Squeeze lime on the whole plate. Devour. Have seconds.

So yeah, it's like chilaquiles. Has all my favorite food groups in it. Seriously, I think this is the reason for the spring in my step today. Spring, even on the eve of another snOMG! event.