Tag Archives: too many asterisks*

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

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