Pour It On

I’m having one of those weeks where it seems like I’m spinning in a hamster wheel, trying really hard to go fast and getting absolutely nowhere.

But at least it’s a shiny pastel color.

And there’s Reese’s easter eggs on sale to go with that bag of doritos I called lunch on Tuesday.

All I want today is an avocado. I don’t have the time to make that happen.

So I’m eating a lentil and spinach salad with feta and the last ripe tomato in the house.

But I’m thinking that isn’t going to cover the avocado fat craving… so I’m chasing it with this:

 And a night full of Childish Gambino. Because I’m going to see his face tonight. And it’s going to be magical.

Even if you can’t see Donald Glover, you can make beautiful awesome sugar coma sundaes happen.

I bought ice cream. Like a planner. Who, for now, is done making ice cream.

I made a 1/3 batch of this salted butter caramel sauce.

Make a full batch. You won’t regret it.

Also, burn it just a little. Takes some of the aggressive sweetness away and makes things way more interesting.

Secret: I cheat on the hot fudge front. I just make a tiny amount of ganache in the microwave (gasp) (I know. Sorry, World/Self).

Homemade whipped cream. You could skip it, but why?

It’s not a sundae without a banana. I stand by this. The sketchy cherries are optional, bananas aren’t.

Go nuts!

… I used pecans.

But seriously go bananas (I’m sorry, I’ll stop) with the toppings.

And last but not least don’t bother trying to share. It’s a lost cause.

Now I have to go stand in line to see a beautiful man… along with a bunch of rando hipsters. Wish me luck! Or curse me with jealousy. Whatevs. Eat a sundae!

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Filed under Chocolate, Heavy Cream, Ice Cream, No recipe

To-Do Lists, Bacon Cookies and Why I Shouldn’t Have Internet Access When I’m Sleepy.

I blame Amy Poehler’s face for the lack of check marks on my to-do list.

I make to-do lists for most days right before I go to bed. I often don’t look at my list until half-way through the day because writing it down is usually enough to make the tasks stick in my mind and I don’t want to see that filled sheet of paper until I can cross things off.

I did 3 out of 11 things on my list today.

There will be no gold stars, no rewards* and no pats on the back for me.

There will be punishment in the form of an earlier wake-up time, a new and old mess to deal with (it’s called ‘my home’), a crash course through drafts of an essay, forced creativity and way more thinking and planning than I care to do.

The most time consuming parts of this day’s list will be rolling over to the early hours of tomorrow morning.

Starting with…

 #1: dishes.

Blurg.

#2: Make a birthday cake for a woman I’ve been in awe of since I was five.**

No pressure.

Then from tomorrow’s to-do list: see her! Drink tea! Eat that cake! Or an Entenmann’s cake if things go south.

Then it’s back to real life stuff.

Reader: Rosie, by ‘real life stuff’ do you mean important endeavors like finding more ways to get bacon in you?

Dearest of readers, of course that’s what I mean.

(BTW, each scoop is 1/3 of a cup of bacon-y awesomeness.) (That’s kinda huge.)

By, ‘real life stuff’, I also mean…

#3: Work on getting my unemployed, uninsured self some health care.***

It’s hard to remember to take care of yourself when finding the care you need is a different, more difficult process than just doing a search for people who take your insurance.

I’ve been procrastinating this business for a while.

I don’t like change.

Or most doctors.

Or waiting rooms. Which is gonna be even more of a thing now that I’ll be going to free clinics.

Are you getting why I’ve been putting this off?

#4: Go back to the crazy business of job hunting. I kind of took a break from this one because I secretly sort of went through a whole grieving process when I didn’t get… multiple jobs in a row.

My notes on this: follow up. Like, a million times more than you think you should. You’ll either get seriously considered for a job… or they’ll file a restraining order against you. Either way, you’re making your determined face known and that’s a good thing.****

Even if you don’t get the job(s). Interviews are valuable. A horrible, train wreck of an interview can be really useful… in retrospect. If you don’t get to the interview but managed to convince someone to take your resume, that’s still a win. Those suckers are stuck with the environmental impact of their next actions. You’re scot-free.

Have a party!

Hi, I’m Snowman Ricky! I like to be left out in the cold… unlike those high and mighty unemployed jerks.

Keep on trucking, Ricky.

Oh boy, self.

Sorry, readers.

#5: Run a bunch of errands.

Let’s gloss right over this one.

Errands are old fashioned. Who needs ’em? Not this guy. That’s who.

#6: Research!

I’m looking into another (super secret) field of work.

#7: Lady stuff.

Yay.*****

#8: Back to BACON.

The most important of meats/daily obligations/things to blog about when I should be sleeping.

These cookies happened out of necessity. I had bacon grease and fudge that couldn’t stick around in their current states.

So I smushed them together. And everything was hunky dory.******

Recipe time!

Preheat your oven to 375! Or don’t and freeze balls of cookie dough to be baked some other time. ‘Cause that works with these. But eat some now, jeez.

Cream together:

6 tbsps room temperature butter (I used unsalted, if you want to use salted butter, leave out the salt. Did I hear lightbulbs? No? You guys already knew to do this? Dandy******)

2 tbsps bacon fat (a little bit colder than room temperature)

1/3 cup each dark brown sugar and granulated sugar

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp instant espresso powder

Mix in:

1 1/4 cup all purpose flour

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/8 tsp baking powder (for a little extra rise and a slight cakiness- I’m sure you would still get excellent cookies if you chose to leave this out)

A pinch of salt

1 1/2 cups of whatever chunked up candy you want to throw in there.

I split it between rocky road fudge that had gone a bit stale and a big bar of toblerone with a couple tbsps of peanut butter chips to round things out. If you have bacon, please fry up, chop and throw some of that in too.

Scoop out giant rounds of dough, freeze some, bake them all, give them to a neighbor (who’s not Jewish or a vegetarian- unless you’re an ass or it’s consensual) do whatever you need to do to feel right about this as long as you eat them while they’re hot. I mean it, people.

*Today I ate M&M’s with several spoonfuls of peanut butter, a stale peep and some brown rice pudding.

Those were all for sustenance. Nothing rewarding here. Move along, judgers of me.

**Hopefully I’ll also have time to make a card- though the idea of that makes me feel like a tiny, foolish (but thoughtful) child.

***Bacon cookies and health care totally go together, shut up.

****Except restraining orders are bad, don’t get those.

I’m here to provide really basic knowledge and unsolicited, obvious advice.

You’re welcome, stalkers.

*****I watched this lady: http://www.youtube.com/dailygrace

I think that counts.

Mostly because I totes Grace Faced while I wrote that.

******Who says that?

Me, when I’m only awake by the power of an absurd amount of sugar. That’s who.

… Yes this is for both hunky dory and dandy.

God help me if I ever start saying ‘doodle dandy’. Though that seems like it might be fun.

Rabbit hole!

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Filed under Bacon, Candy, Chocolate, Cookies, Lists, Room Temperature Butter, Savory and sweet

Easter Sacks

Happy Easter, Internet!

You may have asked yourself, “what’s the deal with Easter?”*

**

It’s a question I didn’t really know the answer to until I saw this messed up bunny.

This holiday is clearly about things that we all thought were safely tucked away (ahem, dead) but sneaky style came back to scare the butts off of us.

It’s about demonic candy.

It’s about ham type substances.

It’s about old dudes in freaky bunny costumes who… want you to look for the eggs they laid? What?!

Ok, so I still don’t get this holiday but there’s pork and weirdly shaped, awesomely fresh Reese’s products*** so I’m down.

When I was a small person, my grandparents would bring giant baskets full of candy and toys every year. I dyed eggs with mom. I didn’t know what ham was or why anyone would eat a meat that was so suspiciously pink but I was full of sugar so ‘dinner’ didn’t matter.

Our traditions of baskets, egg dying and looking at ham all puzzled style have fallen by the wayside. I’m totally supposed to be a grown up or something.

But I realized after Easter ended last year that I missed all of that stuff.

I also realized that it is mad impractical to hand an open basket to someone who isn’t in their home.

So. New traditions.

I’m going to dye eggs with my mom… maybe on Wednesday. It’ll be beautiful.

I made (and hopefully, will continue to make) Easter Sacks for some lady friends.****

A quality sack for a quality sack… of friendship.

Average sack contains assorted cheap ass chocolates, small egg shaped candy coated things and a peep impaled with a pink flamingo drink skewer.

And, yes, that is a Kim Possible (Ron Stoppable) valentine’s day card that I found in my closet when I was looking for the fake grass.

I believe it’s a fitting card for any occasion.

And I will fight you about this belief.

‘Cause KP is too legit to quit.

So is Mojo Jojo… I also had Powerpuff Girl cards.

And Spider-Man eggs. Which are sketchy. But so are comics. Ha! I slay me.

Anyways. In the spirit of Easter, I went out with Megan last night, gave her a sack, had some drinks, talked to some ladies (who were a little too drunk to be alive… or talking… or maybe just awake), ate chicken, steak and carnitas tacos… and then four donuts.

We did it for the baby Jesus.*****

What kinds of donuts did we have? What a legitimate question!

-Chocolate glazed with rainbow sprinkles (because when you’re drunk or a child, brightly colored things are irresistible)

-That wacky kind that’s covered in crumbs like it belongs to Entenmann’s (next time Safeway has a sale, somebody’s going down a memory lane made of coffee cake) (that somebody will be me)

-A near perfect maple old fashioned

-An awesome glazed donut

All dunked in horrible coffee and eaten surrounded by the random people who show up at a donut place in the middle of the night.

That’s how you make Easter magic, people.

So, this weekend, go buy cheap, scary candy, drink with a friend, stumble over to a taco truck and eat too many donuts. It’s a recipe for success. Until you wake up. Then you will feel sad and gross. But that’s what the holidays are ultimately about anyways. Which means, I nailed it. Woo!

Oh and when you realize there’s too much candy in your house, come back here. Next post: bacon and random candy chunk cookies.

‘Cause it’s good to shake things up with your leftovers.

And bacon shakes real good.******

 

*Seinfeld voice. Obvi.

**Easter Demon. Like, damn. I’m full of terror. My aura is a quivering pastel cloud of fear.

Eep.

***My brother once opened a Reese’s peanut butter cup’s wrapper and found mold. Holiday candy matters, kids.

Also, their giant ‘eggs’ are way better than their Christmas trees. Yeah, I said it. Stance= taken.

****And my brother. ‘Cause he loves cadbury cream eggs. Which I don’t get, but ‘follow your bliss’ (Cher voice).

I’m gonna skip the extra sacks for my manfrenjensens. It seems like over-kill.

*****I know Easter isn’t about the baby Jesus. But Ricky Bobby changed the way I think of the lord.

******A bacon shake would be too gross, right?

 

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Filed under 'Cause I'm A Kid, Candy, No recipe, Spring

Nitty Gritty*

Things got real crazy, people. I went to some things. Did some stuff. Made some friends. Dressed up like a fire chief (made more friends, obvi) and put my best, caffeine fueled foot forward.

Guys, I’m exhausted. Fortunately, things are slowing down. And I’m pumping sugar into my face to keep this shambling body rolling.

Tomorrow I’m gonna go get a donut. And make cracked out easter baskets for my lady friends. Things’ll be peachy! And when folks aren’t looking, I’ll drink a lot of tea and chug potato soup.

‘Cause I’m sick again! Woo!

I earned this sick though. I didn’t sleep proper and I stayed on my feet for way too many hours and collected all of the cooties the world had to offer me.

It was worth it.

‘Cause I got a lot of free pencils. And those scraps of kindling sure do pay the rent.

Heh.

Guess what’s next, you crazy kids.

 JEFF MANGUM.

I’m gonna see his face. No biggie.**

I need to be in fighting shape when I gaze upon his anxiety ridden, Anne Frank boner having self.

Between soup chuggings I’ll be eating serious comfort food. ‘Cause when I’m shy of the level of sick that makes my body reject anything but broth***, I want hot, solid, starchy food. Gotta get through the winter… spring… hard times…?

Is anyone else singing the Good Times theme song? No? Lame.

Hangin’ in a chow line!

Anyways… This is what I’ve been wanting to tell you about.

Grits.

Bacon.

Leeks.

Soft fried egg.

Mustard greens.

Shiiit.

Now this is a rough outline of a recipe. You can do whatever you want with it as long as you make grits. You don’t have to fry garlic in olive oil and butter before pouring water into the pan and setting it to boiling. You don’t need the cayenne or the paprika and you certainly don’t need the creamy goat cheese or half and half. But you need to eat grits. Boiled plain with a pat of butter and a sprinkle of brown sugar**** or with butter and pepper and a swirl of cheddar cheese melting into what I’m sure will be all I eat when my teeth go.

… And now I want grits. I’m gonna go up a pants size convincing you stragglers to come around.

This rough recipe I started to tell you about begins with bacon. As it should. Make as much as you want! Have a party!

If you live across the way from one of these…

… throw some bacon over. Apartment living’s no good for a big dog. Bacon helps.

Sautee a couple of leeks in a little bacon grease. Stop and remove from pan when they’re awesomely caramelized.

In a pot, sautee a clove of garlic (per serving of grits. Read the box. It has wisdom) until golden, add water, bring to a boil and cook grits according to box instructions.

In the bacon-y pan, cook some mustard greens. (Hot pan, fat of some kind, chopped greens, stir, season, add a couple tbsps water, cover and steam for about a minute, remove lid, add lemon juice and be surprised at how bitter mustard greens can be… speaking of which just about any other green would be awesome and less abrasive.)

Start frying your egg and if your grits have thickened up too much (and they probably will) thin them out with a bit of water or cream while heating and stirring.

Add cayenne, paprika, salt, pepper and a hunk of goat cheese to the grits if you’re into that fancy stuff.

Layer a bowl with grits on the bottom, bacon on top, awesome stuff in the middle and greens on the side, just to be safe.

Eat this with a runny yolk. Like someone who’s totally unafraid of that kinda risky business.

Go ahead and make an absurd amount of grits. They solidify in a terrifying way when cooled which means you can cut out chunks and fry them up for crispy awesomeness once you’re hungry again. You won’t regret it. Unless you have a small stomach. In which case, I’m sorry and we can work on this together. And by ‘we’ I mean you and grits. They get it done did.

*I’m sorry Grits, you deserve better.

**I lied. It’s a biggie.*****

***Heh. Butt broth.

****If cream of wheat had balls, it might be close to this.

Oh boy. Um. It’s a lot better than I just made it sound.

*****Biggie Smalls.

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Filed under Bacon, Breakfast, Fried Egg, Green, Grits

Cake Shake

 Hello! I’ve been gone again for quite a time. What’s with that? Well, I went and visited some lovely friends of mine and was entirely off of the internet place.

But that was only five days.

The rest of the days were… less than inspiring.

That’s my way of saying my cooking consisted of flops.

I was all set to tell you about a pie I made for my mom’s birthday that, though delicious, had pretty much been an emotional sponge. I made it in a disaster of a mopey mood and the custard turned a sad brownish gray and slumped across our plates when it was meant to stand up and hold the imprints of our forks. It made me want to read ‘Like Water For Chocolate’ again.

 And not make pies.

Which is a wrong sort of feeling. Pies are the best.

But that feeling was reinforced when I made a vegan pie for Ginger and wanted a new crust, more apples, a bucket of caramel and a thicker layer of crunchy crumbly cookie gunk to press into the top.

My baking brain never thinks I’ll need very much crumb topping. My baking brain is foolish. Maybe it’s too full of sugar.

 I tried making orangettes. I couldn’t handle the suggested sugar to water ratio so I cut back on the sugar and ended up with overly sweet orange peel mush. I forgot that I was making candy. And that candy is full of sugar. And that I need to get over that.

I made a mess of a soup. I was trying to clean out the fridge and had been curious about the creamless creamy soup idea (where you put bread in broth and blend it). A failed experiment. It’s still loitering in my fridge waiting for someone (ok, me) to grow a set and dump it out.

 I’m full of dread.

I made weird banana pancakes.

I ate day old doughnuts.

Times are rough.

 Ganache tends to fix things.

Did something go wrong with your day? Need to reset? Cleanse?

Juice is dumb. Go get some heavy cream.

 See the cake under that layer of creamy chocolatey magic? Another flop. Perplexingly bland for something with chocolate, stout, homemade vanilla extract, bourbon, sour cream and a good dose of butter. The crumb coulda been better too. Ok, now I’m splitting hairs but it was my time consuming sad sack of a chocolate cake and so I’ll be* a little unreasonable in my complaining. I mean, look at that sexiness. Shoulda been deloicious.

Anyways, all of these kitchen failures were bumming me out a bit. Then I realized this cake was still covered in ganache. And that I had left over heavy cream. And coffee ice cream in the freezer.

I made whipped cream and ate the slice up in that picture but wasn’t entirely satisfied.

Then I remembered the genius of Jessie and the beauty of the cake shake.

I then also remembered that I totally had more bourbon.

And that bourbon is beautiful.

These beauties go together.

 The cake had been for St. Paddy’s day. It’s totally in the Irish spirit to take something mediocre and turn it into a liquid with (more) booze.

I don’t think I need to tell you guys how to make a milkshake. I figure those of you who are in the milkshake** lifestyle have already science-ed your way through this one.

Booze complicates things slightly what with the lack of freezing and all, so if you’re looking for a thick milkshake that requires a hoover for a mouth to get anything up a straw, skip the bourbon and throw in just a little bit of milk in it’s place. And if you want to make a group size version of this (for yourself or an actual group), blend up the ice cream and cake and let people do their own booze-ing to avoid things turning extra liquidy faster. Plus, then those uninterested in the alcohols aren’t left out, you’ll hang on to more of your bourbon and the kids who break into your house to steal desserts won’t accidentally get drunk! Win win win.

Boozy Cake Shake:

3 parts coffee ice cream to 1 part bourbon and 1 part cake covered in ganache.

Leave the cake out till the very end if you want bigger chunks.

Cover in whipped cream.

Inhale.***

*Pandora is playing ‘It’s Getting Hot In Here’. My words brain froze. I had to bust a move. Forgive me.

** I had a ‘milkshave’ typo. I was a little into it.

***Don’t listen to me. That’s a horrible instruction. Consume it. Rapidly. Then be responsible and drink some water before driving. Safety first.

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Filed under Bourbon, Cake, Chocolate, Drinks, Heavy Cream

Like A Lady

Pretend the mint on those hunks of grapefruit are romaine… and larger… and also avocado… and the juice puddle on the plate is secretly grapefruit lime dijon dressing.

Now that mind picture you’re conjuring is totally a Galentine’s Day salad. You nailed it! Good job.

I’m sorry I’ve been away from you, brand new blog/five readers. I still feel pretty terrible. On multiple levels.

I’ve been trying to figure out what I should tell you, Internet. I’m still not quite finished sorting out a particularly disheartening job hunt so that story will have to be for another post. The story of my unrealistic relationship expectations will have to be told… never? Yeah. I think that’s right, ’cause despite the Galentine’s Day post, this blog isn’t going to be about my personal relationships or all my words would be tangled up in family issues and gross romantical woes.*

Yuck.

This thing is supposed to make ya’ll hungry, not queasy.

I can tell you that I’ve been kind of strung along lately and I can feel depression breaking over me like a rushed hollandaise.

(Breakfast is always on my mind, people.)

I’ve been chasing distractions and trying to avoid my life. After tonight’s panic filled, tear covered, breathless bike ride home, I’ve come to the conclusion (again) that this ain’t gonna fly.

I can’t not look for work because rejection triggers my crazy. Excuses are lame. Dawdling is silly.

So tomorrow will involve banana cream pie for my mom, a bike ride that I get to choose**, actual cover letter writing, a couple of phone calls that will hopefully grant me a little closure*** and some unpleasant re-evaluation of my (lack of) coping methods.

Woo!

I’m gonna focus on the pie.

‘Cause that stuff is deloicious.****

Do you need a cocktail after that hot mess of words I just flung at you? I do.

I saw this recipe on a lovely blog written by the other (not Ron) Swanson.

 Quick!

Go massacre some blood and cara cara oranges.

And make rosemary syrup!

Combine in a saucepan (or cheat and microwave):

1/2 cup water

1/4 cup turbinado sugar (you can use any sugar you have around as long as it’s not powdered)

1 sprig’s worth of rosemary leaves

Cook until sugar dissolves.

Leave the rosemary in for at least ten minutes, then strain it if you’re afraid of over-steeping. I left the leaves in and things turned out just awesome.

For each drink:

Fill a glass with as much ice as you’re into.

Add equal parts gin and (blood orange) juice*****… and tonic water. Throw in 1 tsp rosemary syrup to start. Stir. Guzzle. Fine tune your ratio on the second drink. Unless it needs more gin on the first go round. See to that immediately.******

 You’re gonna need a snack to go with this. ‘Cause without something salty, you have less of an excuse to keep drinking. I’m just looking out for your best interests. You don’t want that gin to go stale. That’s a thing, right?

On Galentine’s I toasted up some pumpkin seeds with spices and such to go on our lady salad. And they made it to the salad. But I just wanted to eat them by the fistful. From my fist. While holding a brightly colored cocktail in my other hand with my pinky fully extended to make me feel slightly civilized.

In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast 1/2 cup raw, unsalted pumpkin seeds for 3-5 minutes, watching and stirring, until they get a little color and smell like a thing you would hide in your cheeks… if you were a hamster.*******

Add in 1/4 tsp each ground cumin and smoked paprika.

Stir and let spices toast for, like, 30 seconds before adding 1/2 tbsp butter a pinch of salt and 2 tsps brown sugar.

Stir and cook for a minute or 2.

Let cool- or don’t.

Try to share.

Especially if you end up doubling the recipe, which should be very easy and definitely worth it.

 I want a granola bar that tastes like this. Damn my hippy instincts.

*It would turn into a blog about Donald Glover’s face. And that’s what Tumblr is for.

**Non-Consensual Bike Ride is the name of my ____ cover band.

Fill it in, peeps.

I’m sorry I said ‘peeps’. I haven’t even been drinking. I’m just emotionally and physically exhausted.

***And with closure comes more posts! Try to contain your excitement.

****Jean-Ralphio

*****… laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind…

Yeah, that was just to amuse myself.

I mean, that was super relevant and necessary to this post/your day.

******I’m assuming you also had a bad day.

Um. Drink responsibly?

*******I don’t care for hamsters. The only one’s I ever knew lived with my aunt and kept me awake when I stayed over. Also they get to run around in fancy colored balls (of plastic. God, don’t be gross). Where’s my ball? Jerk hamsters.

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Filed under Drinks, Girly, Grapefruit, Oranges, Savory and sweet, Seeds

Galentine’s Day

I have a lovely lady friend. She’s smart and funny and I’m totally into her face.

Our friendship looks like this:

-“It’s the middle of the night and I need to vent to someone who won’t give me even more perspective than I already freaking’ have (because I tend to dismiss my sadness/anger feelings because of third world countries/possession of sight and limbs and whatnot) so… Nations or are bars still open?”

-“Did you see ‘Parks and Rec’?”

-“Oh my sweet baby jesus, Childish Gambino! We will sit on his face.”*

-Comedy!**

-“Eat this delicious thing.”

-“Am I bonkers for analyzing this so much?”

“Not even at all.”***

-‘Fat Bottomed Girls’. Obvi.****

This guy.*****

That’s 99% of our beautiful life together. Bask in it’s glory, Internet.

Anyway, given our propensity for daydreaming about Leslie Knope’s face we decided to have us a big ass Galentine’s Day.******

The actual day of our fantastical lady times was cold and overcast. I was brain dead from exhaustion brought on by pestering cafe’s for work (I had an interview the next day!) (Interviews are gross) and we both wanted to sit around in sweat pants and read. But, being ladies, we didn’t mention these feelings to one another until we’d covered ourselves in girl fabrics and lugged awesome food and delicious day drunk drinks to a garden where we complained about the icy wind, boys and how super incapable I am of ending a sentence at a reasonable length.

And then Megan gave me this:

 Ron Freaking Swanson. (If you click on his face, you will be able to read the words next to him. Then you will understand why Megan is the best sort of lady friend around.)

And my day was totally made.

The end.

Reader- “But Rosie, wasn’t there food at this lady picnic?”

Other reader- “Yeah, isn’t this supposed to be at least partially a food blog?”

Yes, you beautiful naive sophisticated new born baby.*******

This day was full of food.

And! I’m totally gonna tell you about it.

When I’m less sickly and done with naps.

In the meantime…

Have some flowers! I picked them, ’cause I’m romancing you.

Also, know that Megan put honey in fresh ricotta and slathered it on bread and covered that in apple slices. In general I’m not a big fan of ricotta because I, you know, can’t remove my mouth, but this stuff was delicious. Put that in your thinking caps, people.

*Probably not at the same time- his face is a normal size. A beautiful, mustachioed, normal size.

Also, if you like seeing his face with a mustache (if you don’t, you’re clearly a monster), then you should definitely see Mystery Team. It’s absurdly hilarious.

**We saw Robin fucking Williams do a surprise set! I’m not ever getting over that.

***Should we acknowledge that we’re sort of bonkers? WHAT. Who said that? Jerks.

****Welcome to our go-to karaoke song. Also, Megan/anyone who bothers to read my silly words, have you still not seen ‘Spring Breakdown’? You clearly have internet access, go fix your life.

*****Yes, this is separate from Parks and Rec. That is how into his face we are.

******“What’s Galentine’s Day? Oh it’s only the best day of the year. Every February 13th my lady friends and I leave our husbands and our boyfriends at home and we just kick it breakfast style. Ladies celebrating ladies. It’s like Lilith Fair, minus the angst. Plus, frittatas!”

-Leslie Knope

No, we didn’t make waffles. It’s possible I ate some whipped cream after putting on sweats and taking a nap but it’s a blur.

*******”Oh Ann, you beautiful tropical fish”

Sometimes the nonsense I speak is secretly a reference that you won’t get unless you happen to watch whatever I watch.

I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, I watch some really great stuff. Just look up at April Ludgate’s face. That thing is glorious.

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Filed under Girly, No recipe