I may be a day late (I’m bordering on two days actually), but the message is still poignant.
That is all.
Avocado Fries with Cilantro Lemon Dipping Sauce
This recipe had all kinds of promise. Avocado? Fries? Dipping Sauce? That’s a triumvirate of awesome and yet, the whole thing just tasted wrong, wrong, wrong.
The recipe was simple enough. I had this flawless “Slimcado” from the Fresh Market. I’d never heard of Slimcado before. I just grabbed a ripe looking avocado, but according to the label on the skin, the Florida Slimcado has less fat and calories than the California avocado. Who knew?
I sliced it, pitted it, peeled it and made it into respectable looking fries. I dusted it with the breadcrumb and salt & pepper mixture, dredged it through some egg yolk, and threw it back into the crumbs before tossing it into the oil. They came out a nice crisp-ity, crunch-ity golden brown. Seriously, I could have taken the picture above, that’s how true to form it looked.
So we sat down to lunch, Craig, the girls and I. Coever took one look and said, “Uh. . .no.” Morgan was more adventurous, but after one bite declared, “I kind of like it and I kind of don’t. More like don’t.”
Well, at least she tried it. Craig and I ate a few pieces, which were quite nice, but it seemed like every second or third piece had a weird, bitter aftertaste. At first, I thought it was just the pieces that I had been eating. Maybe my palate had been compromised after having lunched on peppery chicken wings and overly dressed salad. Too many flavor combinations had sullied my ability to detect the freshness of the Slimcado.
Nope, not really . When lunch was over, Craig and I were cleaning up. My hand hovered over the “fries” and we exchanged a glance. “Did some of yours taste. . .”
“Bitter,” he finished for me. Okay, then. I may have to follow-up with blogger who posted this to get to the bottom of the bitter. Maybe my cooking temp was too high? Maybe my Slimcado was overripe? Maybe my breadcrumbs weren’t seasoned well enough? Maybe it doesn’t really matter. I doubt I’ll be trying it again any time soon.
It’s too bad, really. I mean, you can fry an Oreo/Twinkie/pickle and they all taste good. Oh, Slimcado, perhaps that’s your way of telling us to leave you in your natural, green creamy goodness. . .
with a side of chips and some margaritas, of course.
Why, yes, that is my big brother. Season after season, still going strong. I’m thinking his PR people opted to use this photo because in the midst of the action, he’s just too freakin’ fast.
I hate it when this happens.
I got a really sweet coupon from the Loft in the mail several weeks ago and I’ve dying to use it. Fall is here; it’s time to upgrade some sweaters, maybe throw in some new cords or something. The weather is cooperating, making any purchase justifiable. Throw in the coupon and it’s practically a crime not to do some wardrobe maintenance. Seriously, it’s burning a hole in my pocket. Or at least, it would be if I kept it in my pocket.
Alas, the coupon has been sitting in the bottom of my purse. The expiration date creeps steadily closer as the temperatures fall a little lower. What’s the problem you ask? Here’s the problem.
I don’t like any of the new stuff they’ve got out!
I can’t find any of things that Tim Gunn/Lloyd Boston/Stacy London say I need to round out my closet!
I haven’t found any of the new fall color schemes in the latest Loft collection!
Seemingly, whenever I’m out with nary a cent or coupon to my name, that’s of course, when I find exactly what I need in my size, cut, color, and style. Black all purpose blazer? Perfect! Debit card status? Not so much. When I’m feeling more Mr. Moneybags than Scrooge McDuck, I can’t find a plain white tee-shirt to save my life.
C’mon, Ann Taylor Loft! Our relationship is too longstanding for you to turn your camel cape wearing shoulder on me now. It is a nice cape, but more your style than mine.
Bring out something I can work with. Preferably before September 30th.
A few weeks ago, I came across several blogs that decided to participate in the Pinterest Challenge. Basically, instead of spending copious amounts of time virtually pinboarding crafts, outfits and books, people were getting off their butts and actually making the crafts, coordinating the outfits and reading the books.
What a great idea, right? My boards are bursting with cool stuff, hence the reason I pinned them. So I went back over to Pinterest to pull out some of the ideas that I’d been really wanting to try. Several hours and few dozen pins later, I had to pick the kids up from school.
Yeah, that idea went out the window. My resolve, however, did not. I figured I’d start small. I don’t have a sewing machine, so some of the more fashion forward ideas got back burnered. I don’t have saw-horses, a jig-saw, spray adhesive or 7 yards of fabric, so some other DIY projects got tabled. What I do have, though, is a pretty decent kitchen, a working knowledge of most herbs and spices, and access to a Whole Food AND a Fresh Market. My recipe board, a.k.a. Munch, Munch, Much, was about to be brought to life.
Recipe One:
Wacky Wonton Soup
I’m not a big soup eater by any means, but when it comes to Hot and Sour Soup or Wonton Soup, I’ve got my spoon at the ready. I’ve had this recipe around for a while; I ripped it out of a magazine a few years ago, but never made it. The ingredients are pretty straightforward, enough that I was sure the kids would eat it. They both love Chinese food anyway, so if I dish it up right, they might never guess it’s home made.
I got out my pots, my cutting boards, and my spices. Ginger, garlic, shredded spinach, scallions and frozen wontons (thank you, Trader Joe). It seemed daunting at first, but now that I know what I’m doing? I can make it in minutes. The kids loved it. Craig loved it. He took his first slurp and gave me this “Oh, is that right?” kind of look. Yeah, I put my foot all up in it.
Look at me, setting the bar all high for this project. Are we surprised?
Munch, munch, munch: 1-0
Recipe Two:
Grilled Halibut with Salt and Vinegar Potatoes
Me and fish? Eh, not so much. I’m more of a shellfish kind of girl if I’m going to eat it at all. Anything else, it’s gotta be fried within an inch of it’s life or else it came it a can with a mermaid on the side. Still, with all the emphasis on good and bad cholesterol, omega 3 fatty acids and so forth, a little fish once or twice a week couldn’t hurt.
This was actually less involved than the soup because after seasoning the fish and potatoes with some pantry staples, I just threw it on the grill. I wish my presentation had looked like the above photo; I had a little trouble with the grill marks on the fish. Who knew halibut was so soft? Even though I sprayed the grill plates, the fillets stuck fast like castaways to a life raft. The greenery on top of the fish is arugula, which I knew Morgan and Coever would have no parts of, so they had broccoli.
Morgan said, “This is the best chicken I’ve ever tasted!” and I just let her roll with that. Coever and her super finicky palate? She choked down a few bites of everything, dessert being the brass ring dangling in front of her. I’ll give her that the potatoes could have been more crispy, but everything else was pretty good. I may have to consider this a loss, because while Craig did eat it, he wasn’t trying to box up the leftovers for lunch the way he did with the soup.
Munch, munch, munch: 1-1
Recipe 3
Roasted Chicken with Cipollini
Last month, I was talking about how Chicken Piccata was my signature dish for when we had company come over. I was all set to make it last week-end when Andy Dawg’s Mom and her hubby came over for dinner. Then, I remembered my challenge and pulled out this William Sonoma recipe I’d been carting around. I hope our guests didn’t have their mouths set on Chicken Piccata. They’re expecting a wee one any day now; maybe I’ll bring it on by when they get home from the hospital.
Anyway, this recipe I can’t really claim to have completed on my own because Craig did the bulk of the work. Our day was jam packed with running around, so I did all of the prep early in the morning. Thankfully, the butcher had removed the backbone from the chicken, per the recipes instructions, so that was one thing we didn’t have to do. The seasoning, marinating and so forth? That was all me. The roasting, basting, and general chicken maintenance? That was all Craig. When it was all said and done, it was pretty tasty. We served it up with some Rosemary Beer Bread, Onion Potatoes, and Roasted Carrots and Brussel Sprouts (I know, I know, I took a chance on the sprouts, but I think they’re tasty). Suffice it to say, everyone cleaned their plates at dinner. Well, Coever decided to eat the crackers, cheese and salami from the appetizer tray, but her plate was clean in the end.
Munch, munch, munch: 2-1
What’s next on the menu?
Spicy Soy-Marinated Flanken
I didn’t even know what flanken was when I first looked at this recipe. I saw meat with grill marks and that was good enough for me. I went to the butcher at the Whole Foods, showed him the picture and he was like, “Oh yeah, we can cut that right up.” He even suggested some marinades and side dishes that would go well with the meat. So, I’ve got some ideas for what it about to be tomorrow night’s dinner.
As for tonight? It’s looking like we’re going back to basics.
Hello, tacos. . .
Tiffany and Company had their grand opening at the Stony Point Fashion Park on September 9th. Seeing as it was my birthday just the day before, I thought I’d keep this party going one more day and roll on over. I have this necklace I wanted shortened and a pair of earrings that were missing some backs. Really though, I was looking for a little more “Happy Birthday” to me.
I waited until early afternoon to make my visit, thinking that since Stony Point is close to Morgan’s school, I’d peruse the shop, get my repairs and still be on time for afternoon carpool. Let me tell you, when I got there, you’d have thought they were giving stuff away. People (read:women) had been clearly waiting for this store for a long time. I overheard one associate say that folks were lined up outside at 10am when the mall opened. When I got there at 1pm, the crowd was still thick. Flanking the entrance were two stacks of Tiffany boxes at least 8ft. tall. People were posing with the stacked boxes, snapping Instagrams and what not. I saw one woman lean against the side of the store, her arms framing the Tiffany and Co. sign on the wall. Her body language, her blissfully contented grin; I just knew she was going to be uploading that photo trying to convince folks she’d jetted off to NYC for the afternoon or something.
Anyway. . .this nice associate named Kevin greeted me at the door. He had this Daddy Warbucks mixed with the Secret Service vibe going on. Bald pate, suit, tie, and the ear bud in-the-ear-coiled-wire-down-the-neck thing. Guess they have to keep tabs on the merchandise. I think every associate in that place had on some Tiffany jewelry of some kind. It got me to wondering if you have to buy it to work there or do they loan you some stuff while you’re on the clock. How about loaning me something like this?
So Kevin asks me how he could help me and I outline how I’d like my necklace shortened and my earring backs replaced. He confides that he’s the shipment manager, but he’d be happy to get an associate (i.e. peon) to help me out. He casts his eyes about, but since the place is at max capacity, peons associates are scrambling in every direction. He does me the honor of helping me himself. I also tell him that I had heard there was a camera charm available. What a nice little treat to self that would be, and would he be a dear and show it to me (I cross the threshold and suddenly I’m all Holly Golightly). On his way to replace my earring back, he waylays an associate (let’s call her Erin) who would show me where the Tiffany charms can be found.
Erin turns to say hello and HOLY MOTHER OF PEARL!
Ol’ girl has a freakin’ Tom Selleck mustache hanging out of her nose.
I’m not kidding you. Nose hair. Nose hair so long, I could have braided it. I could have braided it up into her unibrow or down into her mustache. Yes, she had ALL THAT. It was triumvirate of hair. WHAT THE HELL?! This girl gave new meaning to the word hirsute. If that wasn’t enough, when she smiled? **shudder** I think she’d been chewing butter covered rocks on her lunch break.
Kevin promised me a swift return with my items while Erin would help me with the chain shortening and the charms. So, I follow *NOSE HAIR* Erin to the counter where she proceeds to very ineptly try to help me. First, she can’t find the velvet covered sleeve you lay on the table to protect your jewelry. *NOSE HAIR* Then, she can’t find her portfolio where she’s supposed to record my information. *NOSE HAIR* I asked her to measure my chain to be sure of what I have before I start hacking off inches. Guess what? *NOSE HAIR* She can’t find the ruler. When I ask her to show me a 16″ and a 14″ chain for comparison purposes, she brings me a link necklace that is so markedly different from what I have, I’m wondering if English is her second language. Or third.
*NOSE HAIR*
Now, I’ve read articles and heard stories about how attractive people are treated better than less attractive people. So, I did some self-checks before letting my irritation show. Truthfully, it wasn’t her hairiness and poor dental hygiene that got me ticked. She was just an ineffectual customer service provider. She didn’t know where things were. She didn’t know how to fill out the form. She kept smiling and apologizing. She was ready to walk away with my stuff and a smile before I prompted her with, “Would you like to take my information down for the repair?” To which she replied, “Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”
Stop smiling at me! Don’t be sorry, be professional! Get me someone who knows what they’re doing! Gah!
Thankfully, another associate came to her aid, but it took the two of them another 15 minutes to input the information and provide me with a receipt. And poor Erin! Every time she came back to the counter to assure me that it would just be another minute, she flashed that “I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-butter” smile. And she coughed up another half dozen or more apologies.
Kevin returned with my earrings, which he had polished to a shine so brilliant, I could see my pores in the reflection. And talk about great customer service! When I asked what the fee was for replacing the earring back, he said, “Just come back and see us again soon.” Was he flirting? It was all I could do not to burble out an “Oh, you!” and put my hand teasingly on his arm.
Erin, true to her word, brought the paperwork back. She handed it to another associate, who then proceeded to outline what had been inputted and when I could expect to receive my necklace. Erin stood behind her, nodding like a bobble-head. Maybe it was her first day on the job. Maybe she was nervous. I know, I’m so imposing that even the most self confident of persons is rendered into a steaming pile of “uh. . .uh. . .uh . .”
I’m sure Erin is a very personable young lady who has a bright future at Tiffany and Co. I’m sorry that I was so thoroughly blinded by her facial. . .situation, that I may have missed what a personable young lady she truly is. Shame on me for passing judgement, I know. I’m curious, though. Have you ever made a snap decision about someone based on how they looked? Have you been less than pleasant if your server, clerk, customer service rep makes a leper look like the after picture from a Pro-Activ commercial?
You know how I love the fall. I really do enjoy fall.
Labor Day has come and gone. School has started. September has effectively put the boots to summer, arriving with swollen clouds and breezes that make you think twice about sticking a cardigan into your bag.
Coever’s birthday was last Thursday and I thought that I would make a little treat for her classmates. I’m trying to sneak a little bit of healthy less sugary snacks into the mix. Instead of bringing in cupcakes, donut holes or popsicles (all of which were suggested by the teacher, incredibly), I opted for muffins. My first thought was banana nut muffins with some cream cheese frosting, but that might as well be a cupcake. Then I remembered the potential for nut allergies in the class.
What to do? What to do? I seemed to remember that I had another muffin mix of some kind tucked away in the pantry. So, I started digging and I found this:
(source)
Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Bread and Muffin Mix!
Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Bread and Muffin Mix!
How did I not bake this the minute I brought it home? I got to measuring and mixing, prepping and pouring. I lined the two muffin pans for an even 24, enough for each kid in the class. I broke out my awesome-sauce batter dispenser and got to filling. And then. . .there was only enough batter for 19 muffins. C’mon, Trader Joe!
I suppose in a way that was a saving grace. When I flipped the box over to find out what the yield is supposed to be, I saw where it said “This product was made on equipment with milk, whey and treenuts.”
Great.
Well, the 19 muffins that did get made came out great. Craig and the girls will definitely attest to that.
Let me rewind for a second. When I thought about making the muffins in the first place, I did a mental recall to see if I had enough milk, butter, eggs, or whatever to get the job done. I was a few sticks short on butter, so I rolled over to the grocery store and what did I spy?
Pumpkin Spice K Cups!
Shut the front door! Now, I don’t have to become a seasonal Starbucks junkie. Well, maybe just one every now and again. It’s not like I can put the Keurig in my car or something. I’m just sayin’. . .
Temperatures are dropping. Appearances of all things pumpkin are rising. How sweet it is.