Mind Blowing Eggs for Smarty Pants Teenagers

Dear Reader,

Last week as I was polishing off the last of the chocolate eggs, I was wondering aloud why the Easter holiday even features eggs. It's really kind of creepy when you think about a giant rabbit sneaking around and hiding eggs all over your house. I mean, if a person were doing that, they'd likely get shot. Well lucky me, I have a smarty pants in the family, in the person of one teenage son, who told me that eggs are featured in Easter celebrations because the holiday is derivative of pagan fertility rituals, and eggs are, duh, all about fertility. Then he went on to tell me about gender fluidity, and that our universe began as a singularity and is expanding in all directions at the same time, and therefore has no center. I tried really hard, but I can't get my mind around that, and did you guys even know about gender fluidity? I needed a drink.

All of a sudden it was time to make dinner, and I wasn't in the mood to go to the grocery store to buy food stuffs for cookery, because like I said, I had been drinking. I opened my cupboards and did a quick inventory, and found the perfect solution in the form of the almighty egg.  I present to you, the ultimate food for any meal. Seriously - breakfast, brunch, lunch, dinner, late night snack, second dinner, it's perfect

Enjoy.

Mind Blowing Eggs for Smarty Pants Teenagers

You will need:
Olive oil
Onion, chopped fine
Garlic, minced
Paprika
White wine
1 can crushed tomatoes
Eggs
Cheeses
Chives
Baguette

First up, preheat the oven to 425. Pour some olive oil into a sauce pan, and when it gets glossy, add in the onion. Saute for five minutes or so, then add the garlic. Give it a stir, then add a half teaspoon of paprika. If you like, you can also add a pinch of crushed red pepper. I skipped this because I was making this for my family, and if I make something that is at all spicy, I have to sit across the table from people who are gasping, clutching their throats, gulping down water, and sometimes trying to wipe off their tongues with a napkin. So I left it out. If you like it, toss it in. Next up, mommy's little helper, aka white wine. Pour in a glug and stir everything around. My buzz was starting to wear off, so I also poured a few glugs into a glass for my enjoyment. Then I added the tomatoes and some salt and pepper. I let it simmer for about twenty minutes, you can let it simmer for longer, but I was hungry.

I greased the inside of my ramekins with a little butter, then ladled in some of the tomato sauce. Then I cracked an egg into a small bowl and tipped it into the ramekin. NOTE: I did not simply crack the egg into the ramekin itself, as this might result in shells in the dish, and subsequent micro-inspection of food by fellow diners, nor did I hide the whole egg under the sauce, as that would be disgusting. Once the egg is inside, sprinkle on some salt and pepper.

I placed my ramekins on a baking sheet and also threw on some sliced baguette that I had brushed with olive oil. I kept a close eye on the whole affair once it went into the oven, so I could remove the baguette once nicely toasted. When the egg whites were almost set, I sprinkled grated cheeses over the ramekins. One of us wanted Cheddar, two wanted Parmesan, one wanted Gruyere. No problem for me, as I had all three. If you have to choose, I'd go for the Parmesan. Back into the oven until the whites were set, the cheese melted, and the yolks still runny. Snip, snip, snip, went the chives on top, and are you freaking kidding me?!? This was so delicious I made it again two nights later, and nobody even complained. In fact, they were delighted. Mind blown.

EXTRAORDINARY BURRITO FOR ASTONISHING PEOPLES

To be honest, I never thought I'd be back here. Or rather, I never thought I'd be gone for so long. But sometimes life pulls the rug out from under you like my little sister used to do to the family dog, and just like Duncan, you go sprawling. Sometimes you're flat on your face for so long that your cheeks bear the imprint of the hardwood floor, or shag carpeting, whatever the case may be. But life goes on, and at some point you realize you've been lying there for so long that your muscles have atrophied, and you've gotten fat, and you don't recognize yourself. Suddenly instead of creating recipes for you lot, people are asking you to go into politics or something, and that my friends, is when you drag your ass up, pull up your Spanx, kick off those Uggs, and put on some actual shoes. 

Two things have happened recently which have led me back here. Well, two and then a third. One involves a work proposal which has given me an actual reason to revisit Eat Your Feelings. The second is a letter I received from a member of a rebel group either in the planet Corelia or in the American Southeast. Take your pick. 

Dear Heather,

I have accomplished many things in my time in this universe. I have helped defeat the Galactic Emperor, completed the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs, I rescued a princess, destroyed a superweapon that would have obliterated us all, I've been frozen in carbonite, made friends with muppets, comanded the Pathfinders, I am in fact a General, and on top of that I attended medical school, am an actual doctor and a mother. The problem is that lately in my current place of employment, I am inundated by those who demand of me menial tasks, trivial nuisances beneath my station, my rank, my education and my intellect. It has rendered me physically too exhausted to complete my PX90, and that can not do. To make matters worse, when I travel to and from work I am bombarded with the most horrendous vitriol imaginable, delivered via car radio. I wonder, has this planet slipped into a black hole? The collective peoples of earth, and mainly the United States where I am now, have lost their fucking minds! When I arrive home as depleted as a mylar balloon clogging  a landfill five thousand years from now, am I met with warmth and comfort! Nay! Rather my home has been overrun by small peoples who need - no - demand of me absolutely everything. I don't get it. I can see myself in the mirror. I look fucking amazing (have you tried P90X?) I know I AM fucking amazing, so why doesn't everybody else know that, too?

Help me Heather. You're my only hope.

Yours,
Totally Fucked

You see what I'm talking about? How am I to ignore a plea like the one from TF? I mean, I totally get it. TF, for you I have the perfect tonic to your troubles. Enjoy.

EXTRAORDINARY BURRITO FOR ASTONISHING PEOPLES

You will need:

One hour
Whole wheat tortilla
Black beans
Garlic
Onion
Tomatoes, three
Sweet Potato, chopped
Pineapple, chopped
Rice
Vegetable broth
Green and red pepper
Tomato Paste
Oregano
Orange Juice
Cumin
Cilantro
Olive Oil
Avocados

First things first, this mofo has a lot of steps, but they're all easy, and really a monkey could make this with minimal supervision, so don't freak out. 

Step one, after work take the long way home. Go somewhere, anywhere, just for a little bit, even if you just drive once around the block, nothing is going to collapse, at least not to the point of disrepair. Once home, take deep cleansing breaths, making sure they're loud enough to both drown out the whining of small persons, and to scare them into thinking you might be about to keel over or explode. 

Once the coast is clear, go in for the pineapple. Throw it into a roasting pan along with the sweet potato. How much? However much you want. You're in control here, the last thing you need is some lady telling you how much freaking pineapple to eat. Toss both with a little olive oil and some brown sugar if you like, and roast at about 425 degrees until the edges are crispy. 

Meanwhile, put a couple of onions into the food processor, whiz them up and put them into a bowl, then chop the green and red peppers in the processor, then chop up tomatoes with a knife, that's a lot of chopping, but you've got those insane P90X arms, so should be no problem. Place some onion and tomato into a bowl with minced cilantro, squeeze lime juice over it, and add some salt.  Keep the lime handy in case someone comes to ask you for something, and then accidentally squirt it in the direction of the eyeballs. 

Place some onion and minced garlic into a saucepan with some olive oil. When the onions are soft, add some cumin, then add the black beans and some orange juice. Not too much. You're making black beans, not the world's most revolting smoothie. Season with salt and pepper and let this simmer.

Now on to the rice. Not actually "ON TO" the rice - don't sit on it for crying out loud. In another saucepan, heat some olive oil, then add some of that onion you chopped, and some garlic, and the green and red pepper. When it's all nice and soft add cumin, oregano, and tomato paste. Cook for 30 seconds, then add one cup of rice. Stir it all around then pour on 1 3/4 cup of broth. Bring to a boil and yadda yadda, cook the rice. 

Next mash some avocado, add the remaining onion and tomato, some lime and salt. Don't give in to the temptation to just eat this out of the bowl. It would be good, but will be so much better later. Wait and see!

Now comes the fun part. On your tortilla, place some rice, some black beans, some of that Pico de Gallo (the onion and tomato, dummy), some roasted sweet potato and pineapple, and finally some guacamole. Roll the damn thing up like you swaddled your babies before they could talk and drive you up the wall. Find a room, a closet, anywhere you can be alone because this is going to be so good you might start making out with it, and nobody wants to see someone making out with a burrito. Eat in it's entirety, filling yourself with this awesome creation, because you are what you eat. Awesome. 


The third thing that happened recently? I made this for my family, and my teenage son said, "This is so good you should put it on Eat your feelings at blogspot dot com." Voila.

2012 Holiday Gift Guide

Dear Reader,

As the holidays approach we all become a bit busy, a bit overtaxed, generally a bit panicked about finding just the right gift for the people on our lists.  Many of us turn to online gift giving guides compiled by tastemakers to ensure your friends and loved ones get exactly what they want.  I've perused these lists myself and while overpriced used tablecloths and granny-style wallets that cost more than you've actually got in the wallet may be your thing, they're not mine.  But don't fear.  I will be happy with almost anything you get for me.  Almost.  Here is a list of things I do not want for Christmas this year, just in case you've got them in your cart and are threatening to push the trigger and click "Order Now."  I think I can speak not only for me, but for all of us when I say that these gifts will not be appreciated, rather promptly handed back to you with a shove toward the door and a "see you next year."

2012 Holiday Gift Guide

This is not an appropriate stocking stuffer.  Nor is it an appropriate food source.  What's it for?  

Hot Dogs?  Yuck.

This ruffled table runner from Pottery Barn can double as a petticoat.  You know, for all the Colonial Times reenactments you like to do in your free time.  Plus, it's got wings.

Hopefully this "Row Boat Salad Bowl" aka "Pi Patel's Fantasy Lifeboat" doesn't float, so when I throw it in the lake I won't have to see it anymore.

Now I know you are thinking, Heather you've gone too far.  Nobody in their right mind would give you a snake for Christmas!  That's absurd.  Well, as a matter of fact this is exactly what a friend gave me one year for my birthday.  Okay fine, it was a ribbon snake and not a boa constrictor as pictured, but really, what's the difference?

Alpaca Hot Water Bottle Cover?  No thanks.  I'd prefer the $96.00 this thing costs.

I don't work at a desk, and this "Tabletop Zen Rock Garden" would look pretty strange on my kitchen table.  The worst part about this gift is that I gave it to my father one year.

Oh sure, I'd love to hang this calendar on my wall for an entire year so that every day I could not only see what the date is, but also be reminded of how lonely and sad is my life, and how those hot royals would probably be mean, or worse, totally indifferent to me if I were to meet them, say at the grocery store, or while waiting for the school bus.

What DO I want for Christmas you ask?  I am desperate for some linen hand towels.  Plain, white linen hand towels with nothing printed on them, onto which I can print something of my own choosing.  Should be easy enough, right?  If you can find them, or even just send me a link to where I can buy them for myself, I will be your absolute best friend.

Gimme Shelter on the Rocks

Dear Reader,

You might have heard we had some weather in these parts.  I'm not going to try and say anything funny about Hurricane Sandy, because there's really nothing funny about it.  However, when you are talking about secondary effects of a storm, and primary effects of being the only one in your family with a generator, hilarity ensues.  Or hysteria in any case.  Here is something to calm the nerves left raw and frazzled by family members camping out in your home.  Enjoy.

Gimme Shelter on the Rocks

You will need:

Generator
Spare bed/ sleeping bags
Ice
Patience
Tequila


First, place all perishables into a chest full of ice, reserving ice to be used in this cocktail.  Then place any elderly relatives in areas near a bathroom if they are functioning, or near the door if they are not, to encourage them to go by themselves.  Leave a trowel by the door to prevent piles in the yard.  Crush the ice using a hammer or other blunt instrument.  Do not crush by bashing your head on the ice - even though it may provide some numbing now, it will hurt like a mofo in an hour.  Likewise do not use size D batteries to crush the ice as you will need these for portable radios, flashlights, or to sell to neighbors who do not have generators and didn't buy enough batteries.  Throw some mint in the bottom of a large glass, and smash it around with anything but the trowel.  Place crushed ice into the glass and top with six ounces of tequila and two ounces of lemonade, limeaid, orange juice, or whatever juice your have on hand.  If your mother-in-law is staying with you, chances are she brought some juice, so take some when she's not looking.  Swirl the whole drink around a bit and find a quiet place where you can be alone, such as a closet, cupboard, or inside the dryer.  Take a deep, cleansing breath and drink with a straw.  Repeat.




To Donate to the American Red Cross relief effort for those affected by Hurricane Sandy,
CLICK HERE.

Mind-Blowing Mac and Cheese

Dear Reader,

Here is how I spent a recent Saturday afternoon.  A brief warning, this was an activity done with the help of children, so excuse the shaky creative camera work.  Also a note:  My son, the resident food police, was horrified at the amount of fat involved in this macaroni and cheese, but what he didn't know is that the cheese, or some of the cheese I used was of the lower fat variety, and the milk was 2%.  I was trying to make a lighter version of a gooey, crunchy-topped mac and cheese, and I have to say, it was divine. I've listed the ingredients below.  Enjoy!

Mind-Blowing Mac and Cheese

You will need

1 baguette (most of one)
4 Tbs. butter
1 box elbows (noodles - not actual elbows, bleh)
1/2 cup flour
6 Tbs. butter
5 1/2 cups 2% milk
1 tsp. dry mustard
1/4 tsp. cayenne
salt and pepper
1 8 oz pkg. Cabot Extra Sharp 75% fat Cheddar
1 8 oz. pkg. Cabot Extra Sharp Cheddar
8 oz. Gruyere


For Pickle Deliciousness:

1 shallot
Handful parsley
Handful chives
Handful tarragon
Half of a jalapeño (I removed seeds for benefit of wimpy kids who didn't try it anyway)
Handful cornichons (otherwise known in my house as, "snack")
Splash Sherry vinegar

Fat Mom's Lunch Fajita for One

Dear Reader,

I don't know if it is the end of summer, the return of election year anxiety, or all of this suburban pudge I have packed on since moving out of the city, but I'm kind of down in the dumps.  A frumpy dumpy mom is what I am, as a matter of fact.  Yesterday I was explaining to my eight year old daughter that her math homework really wouldn't take that much time.  She looked at me in my yoga pants and Aerosmith t-shirt from Target that is now covered in paint from when I decided I could paint the garage, and said, "You know what else doesn't take much time?  Putting together a decent outfit."

If I had the energy or the inclination I might have scolded her for rudeness.  But, she's right.  It takes no more time to put on a casual dress than it does those dorky yoga pants - you know, the ones for people that don't actually do yoga.  After moving I developed some awful thing in my foot - a heel spur and Plantar Fascitis, so gone are the days when I would run five or six miles every morning.  My foot hurt so badly for a while, that I could barely walk, much less run.  But then I went to the Nike outlet in Freeport, ME and bought myself a pair of Nike Icarus running shoes.  They felt different - better even that the fancy orthotics I was told to buy by the podiatrist.  So I ran.  The first day I made it one mile, the second a mile and a half, and on and on until today.  Thanks to those Nike's and the super fun app Zombies, Run! I managed to pound out four miles this morning.  Up hills and everything!  After my shower I pulled on a cotton dress from the J. Crew outlet in Freeport, ME (do you sense a pattern?) went to the regfrigerator, opened the doors and let the icy air waft over me for a minute until I was faced by another problem.  Food, ugh.  See, this suburban pudge I mentioned comes in the form of eight pounds that have settled on me seemingly for good.  No amount of Weight Watchers tracking points or bowls of watermelon have made a bit of difference.  Bleh.  Maybe this is just me now?  Maybe this is me becoming a middle-aged lady.  It's true that I find myself watching Face the Nation most Sundays.  I never did that before.  Perhaps I need to go to the mall and buy myself a nice new outfit at Lane Bryant to cheer me up.  Maybe I'll do that later, but for now, I'm going back to the fridge to rustle up some lunch, and what I feel like is something a little spicy, a little sweet, something healthy but that won't leave me feeling famished in an hour because I have four different cheeses and three kinds of crackers that are actually singing to me the soundtrack to Jesus Christ Superstar a capella.  So I am armed with a little bit of advice for myself.  It's okay to eat my feelings, but not okay to look like I do.

Fat Mom's Lunch Fajita for One

You will need:

One whole wheat tortilla
Green pepper
Mushrooms
Lime
Onion
Garlic
Cabbage
White Vinegar
Mango
Cumin
Chili powder
Cooking spray
Black beans
Orange

First, take off the old college sweatshirt and pajama bottoms.  If you have nothing better to wear then put on a robe, do not go naked as you might scar your flabby body in the cooking process.  Chop green pepper and onion, place in a large bowl with mushrooms.  Mix together juice of one lime, one clove of garlic, a teaspoon of cumin, and a teaspoon of chili powder, and some pepper and pour over the vegetables - NOT on your face.  This is not an acid peel, although lord knows you could use one.  Let sit for a few minutes while you SHOULD be doing some sit ups, but instead are chopping cabbage and mango.  Pour some white vinegar over cabbage and mango, add a little salt.  Place one quarter cup black beans in a small pot with juice of half an orange, let simmer to heat.  Spray a skillet with cooking spray (duh) and toss in marinated veggies.  Cook about ten minutes, then warm the tortilla either in the microwave, in a pan, or under your fat ass, then fill it with the vegetables, black beans, and coleslaw.  Add light sour cream only if absolutely necessary.  Weight Watchers PointsPlus value 3 as far as I can tell.

Spaghetti for Secret Stoners

Dear Reader,

Oh my, it has been a long time since I posted anything.  This was the busiest summer on record, with camp, vacations, family visiting, and the birthdays! Oh my god, the birthdays!  In one week I made four cakes.  That's not an exaggeration.

A banana cake.

A coconut cake.

Plus two chocolate cakes that I didn't photograph because by that time I was totally over cake.  Also I have this to deal with:

I know, she looks super cute, and she is, but it has taken me forty minutes just to write this because she has been sitting at my foot, staring up at me and BARKING VERY LOUDLY since I sat down.  So I had to get up and take her out for a "walk" which consists of her yanking on her leash until she is gagging and wheezing, chasing every single squirrel, not to mention the moths and the butterflies, and only after all of that is she quiet and sleeping so that I can get down to business and answer some of this damn mail that has piled up in my absence.

I want to thank each and every one of you who has written to me either with encouragement or complaints.  You make my life a sunny day.  Not really.  But it is ever so comforting to hear about the misfortune of others, isn't it?

This email arrived way back in the beginning of August, and it is from someone who goes by the name of DoobyDebbie, from whom I do not expect great things.

Heather-

Got any recipes for what to eat when you are stoned out of your mind but told your boyfriend that you quit smoking pot months ago and then didn't even though you thought you were going to but then your friend came over and had a stash of weed that she got in vancouver so you smoked and she left it at your house and you smoked it all yourself after she left and you're super hungry but know that if you crack open the box of teddy grahams he's going to totally know what you've been up to?

Thanks,

DD

Dooby,

I certainly hope you're not still high, but I'm pretty sure you are.  This one is for you.  It may help, but I doubt it.  Enjoy.

Spaghetti for Secret Stoners

You will need:

Spaghetti

Peanut Butter

Red Wine Vinegar

Olive Oil

Tamari

Honey

Crushed Red Pepper

Garlic

Cherry Tomatoes

Broccoli

Newspaper

Eye Glass Repair Kit

First, you need to say something that you would never normally say if you were as high as a kite.  Avoid phrases like, "Dude, you have got to be kidding me," and, "Wouldn't it be cool if your car ran on slushies?"  Try instead, "Did you know that recent studies challenge conventional medical thinking about CPR?  It turns out that prolonged resuscitation for patients does not lead to permanent neurological damage.  No!  In fact, patients who underwent CPR for a long time fared just as well as those who were revived quickly," which I just read out of today's New York Times, or look to your own paper for ideas.  Then ask if he's ever performed CPR, and as he muses, put on a pot of salted water to boil and toss in the spaghetti.  If it is not time for spaghetti eating, say if it is nine o'clock in the morning, tell him that you are trying out a new Asian Breakfast Pasta you read about in Saveur Magazine.  Be careful saying "Saveur."

Just before the spaghetti is finished, toss some broccoli florets into the water.  In a large bowl, mix one half cup peanut butter, one glug red wine vinegar, one quarter cup tamari, one glug olive oil, and two squirts from the Honey Bear.  Resist urge to talk to the Honey Bear, or apologize for squeezing out his brains.  Crush one small clove garlic and add to sauce.  Drain pasta and broccoli and add to the bowl containing the sauce.  Chop some cherry tomatoes.  Do not say, "Fuck it all," and throw the tomatoes in whole.  That would be so obvious!  Patiently chop them and toss them into the pasta.  Sprinkle on some crushed red pepper flakes.  Do not eat pasta directly from the bowl in which is was prepared.  This is very important.  Find a normal, human serving-sized bowl and fill it with a small mound of pasta.  Do not attempt to use a plate.  A plate offers no sides against which to press the fork thereby easily getting slippery noodles to your mouth, and you will just wind up with peanut butter and spaghetti all over yourself.  Use a napkin.  Have something to drink.  Perhaps an iced tea.  When you are finished, clean off your dish.  If you sense he might be on to you, consider if it might just be marijuana-induced paranoia, and pretend to repair your eye glasses, a task requiring such nimbleness and agility, sure to convince anyone of your sobriety.

Summer Birthday Plates Bonanza

Summer birthdays.  My daughter has one.  Unfortunately for her, each summer many of her friends are away and unable to attend a birthday party.  So we end up including a whole bunch of adults, which creates the problems of what to serve? How to decorate?  What sort of plates do you use when half the guests are under ten and the other half are over forty?  Lucky for you I have the answer. These adorable cupcake plates, napkins, and gift wrap are perfect.  Cute enough to satisfy little girls' desires, adorned with yummy looking cupcakes so boys won't have to eat off of Barbie's face, and elegant for the grown ups.  Oh, and there's another reason to love these. My mother Carolyn Bucha did the artwork!  I know you were under the impression that I must be the most awesome member of my family, but my mother is a wonderful artist.  Just look at these plates!

You can buy them on Amazon, so there's no need to drop everything and run to the nearest party store. Just click here!

What to serve on these plates?  Here's an idea.

And now here's this...

Totally Forgot About Swim Suit Season Garlic Bread Pudding

Dear Reader,

It has been raining for what seems like weeks.  This cold grey weather feels more late September than early June, which perhaps explains my lack of judgment in preparing last night's dinner.  Smart gals plan June menus with an eye toward fitting into a bathing suit at the beach rather than having to wrap yourself in two garbage bags tied together with duct tape.  But I kind of don't care because what I made was so freaking good.  Real good.  I had almost an entire loaf of garlic bread left over from the night before, and maybe I've been watching too many episodes of Chopped, but my mind immediately went to bread pudding.  Holy cow.

Totally Forgot About Swim Suit Season Garlic Bread Pudding

 I had some mushrooms, so I sauteed them in my skillet with a little butter.

 I also had some soy sausage, so I fried that up as well.

I put these things in a dish with my torn up garlic bread.  Everything was looking a little brownish, so I threw in some sliced sun-dried tomatoes because I don't care if it's not 1994 anymore, I still love the damn things.  I mixed three eggs and three egg yolks with two cups of milk, salt and pepper, and poured it over the whole mess.  Then I waited about 45 minutes.  I didn't really just wait for 45 minutes.  I was doing other things during that time.  That would be pretty sad if I just sat and watched the bread sopping up the custard for 45 whole minutes while I cried deep down on the inside that I had nothing better to do.  What I should have done is filled up on carrot sticks or broccoli to avoid the coming feeding frenzy.  I sprinkled on a generous handful of grated parmesan and baked at 350 for about 40 minutes.

I know, it doesn't look like I ate much, but this was the plate I served to my son, who almost gagged literally to death on the sun-dried tomatoes, but otherwise thoroughly enjoyed this dish.

To make up for this decadence, I offer this musical sampling, perfectly distracting for the long slog on the treadmill.  And this dude kind of looks like a musical theater version of my husband.  Enjoy.

Gingrich Spinach

Dear Reader,

Can you imagine folding the laundry, putting away your husband's socks and finding a whole bunch of girlie magazines in his drawer?  Yes?  Well how about finding a whole bunch of Newt Gingrich paraphernalia?  Horror!  That is exactly what happened to Steffi in Jacksonville, Florida this week.  Here you go, Steffi.  I wish you luck.

Gingrich Spinach

You will need:

3 pounds spinach
1 cloves garlic
1/4 cup flour
1 cup cream
1 1/4 cups milk
One small onion, diced
1/4 cup butter
1/8 tsp grated nutmeg
handful breadcrumbs
gruyere

Steam or boil the spinach until just cooked (or unfrozen as the case may be), then drain and squeeze all the water out, like you'd like to squeeze the brains of your husband if he thinks he's going to have some sort of new fangled "open" relationship.  Give. Me. A. Break.  Heat the milk and cream in a saucepan while you saute the onion and garlic in the butter.  Whisk in flour and cook for a few minutes to create a roux.  Add the warmed milk in a thin stream, like the thin stream of consciousness that must exsist somewhere in the head of the man you married.  Whisk constantly so that you don't get any lumps, you've already got one of those, no need to add more.  Stir in spinach, nutmeg, salt, and pepper.  Top with breadcrumbs and enough grated gruyere to make you feel better, and bake at 350 until golden brown and bubbly.  Go to www.newt.org and make sure your husband's name is first on the list to visit the moon base in 2019.


Now here is some music to help get you through these last six weeks of winter.

The I Love America Diet

Dear Reader,

It should be obvious that there is little I love more than a weird cookbook.  After all, I wrote one myself.  I have one that I have been meaning to share with you.  I bought it at a bookstore in Ithaca, New York, and it is from the mind of the one and only Phyllis Diller.  No just kidding.  That would be really awesome.  This one is from Phyllis George.  It's called the I <3 America Diet.  The premise behind this patriotic cookbook is that if you really love America you won't be a lardass.  America needs skinny citizens, not only to look good, but fatties cost too much

Here is what Phyllis recommends a woman eat in an average day, in effort to "reduce."

BREAKFAST:

1 medium orange

1 medium egg, scrambled

1 small bagel, with

1 tsp. margarine, soft

1 cup skim milk, fortified

     coffee, tea or water

LUNCH:

(You can brown-paper-bag this one)

1 cup tomato juice, preferably with no salt added

1 salmon salad, consisting of:

     2 ounces canned salmon, packed in water, served on a platter, with

     1 1/2 cups combined Romaine lettuce, watercress and sliced radishes, and

     2 teaspoons Italian dressing

2 slices whole-wheat bread

1/4 medium cantaloupe

     coffee, tea or water

DINNER:

1 cup fresh fruit cup (suggested ingredients: slices of banana and apple, grapes and orange sections)

3 oz. roast chicken, preferably white meat

1/2 cup lima beans, fresh

1/2 cup spaghetti, enriched, with tomato sauce

1 1-inch cube natural Swiss cheese

     coffee, tea or water

SNACKS:

1/2 cup broccoli, cooked or raw

1/2 cup cauliflower, cooked or raw

First, that's one mighty big brown paper bag she brings her lunch in.  Ms. George may have servants to rinse off her platters, but the rest of us have to make do on our own.  Second, if I ate like that I would be as big as a house.

There was one nugget in this book that I found extremely enlightening.  You know how people are always saying we should eat slowly?  I've always taken that to mean chewing slowly, which is kind of disgusting.  Phyllis advises, "Bring your food to your mouth slowly.  Count 1-2-3 from plate to mouth.  You'll soon forget you ever shoveled it in at high speed.  Your dining partners will appreciate the change to a more graceful you."  I'm absolutely sure my dining partners would appreciate a more graceful me.  I'll try this one at home!

Here are some more of Phyllis' pearls of wisdom:

*  When you dine with thin people, observe how much faster you finish your meal than they do.
       This is especially true if your thin companion is going to the bathroom to vomit between courses.
*  Bring a mirror to the table and watch yourself eat.
       If you want to look like a total idiot, this is a great idea.
*  If you have a motion-picture camera or a video recorder, take pictures of yourself eating.  You may not smile when you see yourself on candid camera.
      Andy Warhol did this.  He ate very slowly.

*  Eat with your knife, fork and spoon - never with your hands.  That applies when you eat anything - a sandwich, a slice of bread, a roll or a piece of fruit.
     Again, a good idea if what you're really after is to look like an idiot, carving up your strawberry with a knife and fork.  Paging George Costanza.
*  Put only one kind of food in your mouth at a time.  Not steak, potatoes and onions in one mouthful.  But one mouthful of steak.  One mouthful of potatoes.  One mouthful of onions.  That's three mouthfuls instead of one, and that takes three times longer to consume.
      Does she suggest you deconstruct your sandwich before eating?  I'm highly opposed to that idea.  Especially if you then have to eat it with a spoon.

I want to leave you with a recipe from Phyllis George, and as it is Monday I will advocate for Meatless Mondays and pass on her "Frank Kebabs" (yes, hot dog kebabs are good for America) and "Oriental Beef."  Enjoy.

PHYLLIS GEORGE'S VEGETABLE NUT LOAF

You will need:

Wheat germ, unsweetened
1 cup chopped carrots
1 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/4 cup butter or margarine
1/4 cup flour
1 tsp. salt
1/8 tsp. pepper
1/4 tsp. thyme
1 1/2 cups milk
1 cup natural cheddar cheese, shredded
1 cup walnuts
3/4 cup wheat germ, unsweetened
3 eggs, slightly beaten

1.  Preheat oven to 350.

2.  Grease 8x8x2-inch baking pan.  Coat with wheat germ.

3.  Cook vegetables in fat until onion is tender.

4.  Stir in flour, salt, pepper and thyme.  Stir in milk.  Cook and stir over moderate heat until thick.

5.  Stir in cheese, nuts and 3/4 cup wheat germ.  Add eggs.

6.  Pour into baking pan.

7.  Bake about 40 minutes or until well browned and firm.

8.  Let stand a few minutes; cut into serving-size pieces.

Phew.

Boy am I glad that's over! Who knew that Central Park had alps in the northwest corner?! Here are a few photos from Saturday morning when I was a long distance runner.

7 AM, trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do with these orange tags.  Turns out they go on your shoe.

In a cab, freaking out because of the doom and gloom coming from the sky.

At the park.  Other runners heading for the starting line.  Are they faster than me?  Will they notice that I'm wearing sandwich bags over my socks to try and keep my feet dry?

Everybody ready for the race to begin.  At this point I'm freezing from standing around in the snow and am looking forward to running just to get warm.

I didn't stop for water here.  Mostly because I was afraid that if I drank water I'd pee in my pants.

For some reason I kept finding myself behind these two guys.

Close up of the conditions - everyone was sliding around with each step.  I've never prayed so hard for a stinking snow plow.  It never came.  Needless to say my ankles are still aching.

These dudes again.  Nice pom pom.

I got a little choked up at this marker, but not so much that I couldn't snap a quick picture and send to Facebook.  Priorities.

Yahoo.  I took this photo after I had finished, gotten the freebie apple as well as a delicious Gatorade, then walked back around to photograph the finish line, so this does not accurately reflect my time.  Just so you know.

Hobbling out of the park, shivering because I was sweaty and without a proper jacket in the middle of a snowy park, and what happens?  This bozo on the bike stops me to take a picture of him in front of the Dakota.  Actually he wanted me to take two.  Tourists.

Sandwich bags no help whatsoever.

Not only did I consume a whole loaf of French Toast, a few hours later I had this bad boy lasagna.  Yes, that is the Garfield-sized piece I ate. 

Now that my legs have stopped shaking, and my hip flexors can move again, and my knees are less creaky, and my ankles are only hurting a lot instead of a whole hell of a lot, I can say that this was an awesome experience.  It did occur to me that if I were running a whole marathon, I would have to turn around and run the damn thing again, a feat which for the moment seems impossible.  

But never say never.

Running on a Fantasy of French Toast

Dear Reader,

Tomorrow morning I will rise before the sun, don layers of something called "Capilene" and fleece, as well as sneakers, and set off for Central Park where I will run for somewhere around two hours.  It is the Manhattan Half Marathon, and something possessed me to sign up for it.  My goals are twofold:  to finish, and to leave my pants unsoiled in the process.  I've been working my way up to running 13 miles, so I should be able to make it, fueled by thoughts of the massive He Man breakfast I will devour when I'm done.  Think of me tomorrow, as it will be snowing here in NYC and I will surely be freezing.  I just hope I get some sort of medal that I can wear as an everyday accessory, perhaps pinned to the front of a turban.

What feast will be the subject of my race day imagination?  Fitness Test French Toast, of course - great slabs of brioche soaked in a custard of egg, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon, griddled to a golden brown perfection in a butter-laden skillet and topped with apples simmered in more butter (don't give me any Paula Deen crap - I will have run 13.1 miles and I bet Mrs. Deen can't even drive that far without needing a breather) and brown sugar, then anointed with a generous pour of maple syrup.  Oh yeah, and sausage.  There will be sausage.

Wish me luck.

Mother of the Year Cookies

Dear Reader,

I have told you before about my friend Claire who is a superstar baker.  Recently she told me of a cookie that was so light, so delicious, and so guilt-free - just 1 Weight Watchers point, and that sent me into a complete tizzy, because I've have lost almost twenty pounds on Weight Watchers.  TWENTY POUNDS.  Here are some things that weigh twenty pounds:

Anyhow, I had to have one of Claire's cookies, and I did - for breakfast.  It was a meringue, chocolatey, crunchy, chewy and so damn good that I had to eat while carefully holding my hand under the cookie because I wasn't going to waste a crumb.

Claire's perfect meringue.

Claire told me the recipe is from Giada De Laurentiis, so I looked it up and made them myself.  I couldn't get them quite as chewy inside as Claire who claimed that she used magic to make them.  I was also too lazy to use a pastry bag, so I sort of glopped them on the cookie sheet, and I ran out of vanilla, so used almond extract, but let me tell you, they were delicious.

My gloppy meringues.

I went a little meringue crazy and made peppermint chocolate chip meringues the following day, and for those puppies I did use the pastry bag, as it was absolutely imperative that I dot red food coloring around the meringue so that when it was piped out it looked like a candy cane.  You understand.

If that weren't enough, I made chocolate cookies the day AFTER THAT.  They aren't quite one point, probably three, but they're worth it.  I think I've aptly titled them.  Enjoy.

Mother of the Year Cookies

You will need:

12 oz. chocolate chips
3/4 cup flour
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
1/4 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla
little bit more salt

Melt 2/3 of your chocolate either in a double boiler if you're a masochist, or in the microwave if you're a normal person.  Mix together the flour, cinnamon, baking powder and salt in a small bowl.  Pack down that brown sugar (but good!), and beat it with the other sugar and the butter in a larger bowl.  Add the melted chocolate and beat again.  Then mix in the flour stuff on low speed until it's blended.  Stir in the remaining chocolate chips and drop onto a parchment covered baking sheet and sprinkle with just a tiny bit more salt.  It's not necessary to actually count the crystals, but don't add more than, say, ten per cookie.  Bake at 375 for 8 minutes until they are set.