National Bookstore Day at last!

I know! I know, HURRAY!  You have been waiting for months and it is finally here - National Bookstore Day is TODAY!!!  I can't think of a more perfect way to celebrate than to run down to your local independent bookstore and buy a copy of Eat Your Feelings: Recipes for Self-Loathing!  If you already have a copy, then buy one for your friend!  

On another note, check back tomorrow for Ham Souffle for a High School Reunion as I will be attending my own this evening.

Poached Eggs Brulee to Avoid a Terrible Mistake

Dear Reader,

I have had another letter that demands my attention!  See for yourself:

Dear Heather,


Last summer I got engaged to my boyfriend Josh.  We've been together for about three years and I really wanted to get married.  All my friends are married already, so I kind of put the pressure on, leaving pictures of engagement rings lying around and all that.  Problem is, he is driving me NUTS.  I can't stand being around him.  When he eats, he chews and breathes really heavy through his nose at the same time.  Gross!  And he reads comic books, which I used to think was cute and alternative, but now I just see it as another factor in the long list of what makes him a dork.  And the worst part is his throat hair!  It's like his chest hair keeps right on going up to his ears.  What do I do? My mother would kill me if I break up with him.  She's paying for the wedding.


Please help,
Denise
Morristown, NJ

Oh, Denise.  These feelings, the impatience with your boyfriend; your disgust at the way he eats; the utter disdain for his lack of intelligence and fascination with boyhood culture, are all completely normal.  Unfortunately this knowledge usualy comes to a lady after five or six years of marriage.   Your eyes have been opened too soon!  Never fear, I can help.  By the time your wedding date rolls around, Josh will have headed for the hills with his Sasquatch brethren.  For you I offer:

Poached Eggs Brulee to Avoid a Terrible Mistake

You Will Need:

Eggs
Grapefruit Juice
Turmeric
Sugar
Coca-Cola
Ipecac
Blowtorch
Beets

When fiance goes to bed at night, eat beets.  Eat at least one pound of beets, some of them boiled and some raw, like an apple.  If you start to feel sick, picture dressing your future children for their school pictures and combing their throat hair.  Choke down those beets!  In morning, when you begin to feel effects of beets in the form of visible gas rising in your abdomen, stand very near finace and let loose. When he wakes with a start in a cold sweat, terrified, wink at him and head to kitchen.

Heat a pan of water and get ready to boil his eggs.  Add in a hefty glug of grapefruit juice and a generous pinch of turmeric.  When the water is boiling, crack in his eggs.  Don't try any chef tricks to keep them together in the pot - the messier the better!  While his eggs boil you have a little time, so make yourself look as much like your mother as possible.  For me this involves donning a blue suit with a matching blue pump on one foot and black loafer on the other, and always Loreal A La Mauve on the lips.

Down a Coca-Cola before he sits down to breakfast.  Use phrases like, "Sooo glad I can just let it all hang out now that we're getting married," and, "It's such a relief to just be me!" and if you should have sex, "Sooo much better than masturbating," punctuated by belches from Coke.

Take his eggs out while the whites are still nauseatingly translucent.  Place them on a plate and top with a good amount of sugar.  If the turmeric hasn't make them yellow enough, drip a bit of green food coloring in the center of each.  Turn on the blowtorch and stomp around the kitchen with it while you point out all of the projects he has started and not finished, with increasing anger, farting beets for added emphasis.

Go to bathroom and chug Ipecac.  Vomit in center of kitchen.  Burn the sugar on top of eggs to make a nice crust.  Serve him this dish explaining that it is not part of a "diet plan" but a "lifestyle change."  Wait.

Eat Your Feelings Party

Dear Reader,

I recently returned from a fun-filled week in Los Angeles. The highlights of my trip included a reading at Book Soup, which is a totally awesome bookstore, even if you're not a nerd; sleeping as much as I want (kids were home with Daddy); and an unforgettable night spent with friends enjoying the first ever Eat Your Feelings Party.

My good friend Ben Mandelker writes the very funny B-Side Blog and he posted about the party here.  You really must check it out as it was a great night, and like I said, he's very funny and not bad looking either.

If you host your own Eat Your Feelings Party be sure to tell me about it!  Customize the menu to suit your woes, or to make you feel better by laughing at woes you don't have (yet)!  Send me your pictures and I just might put them up on this here blog.

With warm regards,

Heather

Hey guys, it's Danny DeVito!

Breakfast of Wannabe Champions

Dear Reader,

As most of you know, the NYC Marathon was today and it was won by a man from the good ole’ US of A for the first time in 27 years. Still in my pajamas, drinking coffee and nibbling on bacon dipped in syrup, I sat on the couch and listened to the commentators as Meb Keflezighi ran his last 2.6 miles to the finish line. They passionately described his struggle, how his family fled war ravaged Eritrea and his parents raised their eleven children in the US, all of whom graduated from college. With tears in my eyes, I watched him cross the finish line as the commentator said, “A great champion and a wonderful person.”

I would like someone to call me a great champion and wonderful person. But that’s not going to happen unless I get out of these pajamas. I have never had any desire to run a marathon, fearful of course that that I would be one of the runners to lose control of their bowels. But perhaps, with a little precaution and some proper training, I, and you too, may one day be great champions. So today I offer a little training advice and some sustenance in case you are thinking about running in next year’s marathon. And as I watched the women runners, noting that they have glutes where I have a booty, the idea has some appeal.

Breakfast of Wannabe Champions

You will need:

Eggs

Bacon

Running Shoes

iPod (or other mp3 player)

Sweat pants

Bathroom

On the first day of the rest of your life, spring out of bed and immediately put on gym clothes. Gym clothes should be the ratty old variety for reasons to be made clear momentarily. Since you are now a marathon runner you can eat a big breakfast so crack five eggs into a bowl. Heat up the stove and place six strips of bacon in a pan and fry, turning once until nicely crisp. While the bacon fries, load up the iPod with motivational music of your choice. For me this includes Duran Duran, Jai Ho and songs by skinny women like Madonna and the Spice Girls, also some of my kids’ soundtracks like Madagascar (I Like To Move It) and of course the theme from Speed Racer. Put a lot of butter – remember you’re an athlete! into a non-stick skillet and dump in the eggs. Scramble over low heat as you scramble to find the running shoes you bought two years ago on your last fitness kick. When done, plop the eggs onto a plate like you normally plop your fat ass onto the couch about this time of day. Place the bacon next to the eggs and drizzle with syrup (trust me). Eat entirety with coffee or red bull and a Gatorade.

Go to the bathroom! Make sure that you eliminate all contents of bowels lest they do they job themselves while you’re on the treadmill. In case of incontinence, either due to age or vaginal delivery, place some sort of diaper-like device such as a Poise pad or a kitchen sponge into your undies. Then hit the gym!

On treadmill, start at a good pace like a 16-minute mile. Gradually increase by one minute per mile until you reach six miles or vomit. Afterwards, don’t forget to stretch! If the pain is unbearable do not fear – tomorrow is the first day of the rest of your life, and it’s never too late to take up competitive eating.

Quaffs for Bad Crafters

Dear Reader,

I apologize for not providing you a recipe, but sometimes even food won't help and there is nothing to do but drink. Allow me to explain-

This week found me at my wits end, practically perched on my window ledge with a very heavy and unstable Singer Sewing Machine Quantum 2623.




When my son's teacher sent an email saying that she needed parent volunteers to sew together the pieces of a "Climate Quilt" the children made, I said, sure I can help with that! After all I made a beautiful quilt when I was pregnant with that very same son. That I was still making that quilt long after my daughter had been born, almost three years later, did not occur to me. I had imagined that other parents would help with the quilt also, so was therefore surprised when she handed me all twenty four squares.

Now a word on these squares. They were of varying fabrics, sizes and some were so loaded down with glue and felt and yarn and doo dads they were nearly an inch thick. Some of the glued on hearts and stuff were falling off. The first step was to go to a fabric store and buy some reinforcement in the form of Tacky Glue.

That done, I had my husband go down to the basement and lug up the old sewing machine. Luckily the last person to use that machine was my mother, who won the Singer Sewing Contest at the tender age of fourteen, so the thing was threaded correctly. I sewed together two of the squares in about four seconds. But then a snag. A literal snag. And the thread came out of the needle and lord only knows what was happening with the freaking bobbin and something was making a clunking noise. I called my mom, who was having friends over for dinner and not in the mood to help. Harumph.

I fiddled around with the machine for a while, and then I started to cry. I cried out of frustration, feeling like a failure, knowing that I have been shown how to work the stinking sewing machine about a hundred times and was completely useless at it, because I always volunteer to do stuff and this was exactly the kind of half-assed job I usually did. And I cried for the children of Caitlin's class, whose contribution to the global climate quilt was going to look crappy all because of me, and because it was going to take me three whole days to sew the thing by hand.

So I had a glass of wine and googled "How to thread a sewing machine." I was instantly provided with infuriating videos from smug and crafty ladies, like irritating Rebecca, and this one with totally annoying music that makes it impossible to hear what she's saying, and Natalie who just makes me feel entirely inadequate for myriad reasons. I cried some more and blamed my husband for buying me this impossible machine in the first place. What kind of sick Christmas present was this?

I had another glass of wine along with some deep breaths. I called my friend Heidi who can sew stuff in her sleep. She didn't answer. I polished off that glass of wine and poured myself another. I picked up two more squares and sewed them by hand, pricking my fingers because my vision was so obscured by tears and wine. Then Heidi called. Without even seeing what kind of sewing machine I have, she talked me through the entire threading process from start to finish. When I got it working and sewed some more stuff, I cried again and then had another glass of wine to celebrate.

And now, I actually like my sewing machine. I'm not sure when I will use it again, but thanks to Heidi, the Climate Quilt lives on!

Here I am on LX NY making a yummy tomato tart.

Cookie Bowls For Nobel Prize Winners

Recent events have many people believing that anybody – even you - could someday receive a telephone call with the news that they have been awarded a Nobel Peace Prize. Not all feelings are bad, and celebratory feelings can be eaten, too. I have whipped up Cookie Bowls For Nobel Prize Winners should you ever be one.

Cookie Bowls For Nobel Prize Winners

You will need:

Nobel Prize

Cookie Dough

Baking Spray

Ice Cream

When you answer your phone and hear the following, “Gratis, du har vunnit Nobels fredspris!” Don’t hang up! You are not having a stroke, it is Swedish! In fact, you have just won a Nobel Prize! Be sure to ask, “Hur mycket är detta pris värt?” or “How much is this prize worth?” Ten million kroner? That’s about a million and a half in regular money. The next call you make should be to a real estate broker. While doing so, fire up your oven to 350°. If you don’t need the money, for example if you are a best selling author and person of influence already living in a nice house, a good idea would be to donate the money to charity. That would maximize the appearance of your good nature and show the world you are deserving of such an honor. Either way, break out some cookie dough. You can make the dough yourself – Toll House works well, but why not blow some of that prize money on dough that someone else made? Spray a muffin pan with baking spray and pop it in the oven.

Write to your alma mater’s alumni magazine, making sure that everyone you ever knew – especially that know-it-all freshman room mate who thinks she’s so important because she’s got a local radio show – knows about your good fortune. Take the pan out of the oven and squish cookie dough into the muffin cups leaving a well in the center. Stick pan back in the oven.

You’re going to need to make a speech, and it would be a good idea to write one. Make sure that it includes the following:

1 funny anecdote about your childhood

4 (at least) jokes – making at least one in Swedish would go a long way

6 counts of humility

7 hopes for the future

Practice the speech in the mirror, as you are going to need to keep a straight face while orating.

When the cookie bowls are brown and crisp on the outside, remove them from the oven and pop them out of the muffin cups and fill with a scoop of ice cream as you update your facebook profile to list profession as “Nobel Prize-winning Peacemaker.”