It was better than you having a dream about me in a threesome...

I need some food inspiration.  I feel empty of cooking ideas.  Or at the very least stymied.  It is getting unseasonably warm around here and so I am craving fresh and refreshing foods.  I want more veggies and fruits. I want barbecue.  I want salad.  And I really want fish.  I guess I'm just trying to wrap my head around how to package and present these things to Boyfriend (who I decided should get a capital letter at least, though even though we haven't discussed it, I kind of figured he would appreciate the anonymity).

My usual process is to think of all the things I want to try or things we haven't had in a while and kind of plan out what I need because Monday is usually grocery day.

Ok.  So far, things that have piqued my interest.
-some sort of fish
-lemon curd (though I am not real sure what I will do with it - maybe with fresh berries? but I really want to make it)
-home made bread
-beer.  last week Boyfriend asked me to get some in honor of St. P's Day (all I wanted was corned beef, but apparently his family thinks that is the epitome of disgusting.  My family is authentically Irish and drunk and knows that nothing tastes better with a sweet buzz than salty, fatty meat).  BUT corned beef aside, it made me think we should drink more beer.  Well, no.  Maybe not like that.  We should try more beer, or beer styles, or beer brands.  Something like that.  The sweet buzz we acquire will be a happy accident from our quest for knowledge.  And therefore completely excusable.  I mean people have done way worse things in the name of "knowledge" (coughTuskegeecough).

I don't know.  My brain is too cloudy to think clearly and plan appropriately for the week.  It is probably because I've been having WAY more excessively strange dreams than most people have in their entire lifetimes.
I was shaving Boyfriend's head last night (because the back of your head is WAY easier to let someone else do, as long as you trust them with a razor near your most prized possession.)  But, I only agreed to do this if he would listen to my latest dream I had (Friday night).  He acquiesced.  So we're in the bathroom together and he is seated while I shave his head (because as you may or may not know, I am almost legally a "little person") and I set the stage for him.
Me: "So this dream I had the other night it was SO weird, but I told my mother about it and she said, no, you REALLY need to tell Boyfriend that dream because it is weird AND funny.  So..."
Boyfriend: "Just get this over with".
Me: "Ok, so I dreamed that I was bitten by a weasel.  But it was a rabid weasel.  And I got bit on the hand as I was trying to pick it up and move it.  Its teeth only just barely pricked my skin.  So then I knew I had rabies and I needed to go to the doctor"
Boyfriend: "Seriously?  Why?"
Me: "Because when you have rabies you need to seek medical attention"
Boyfriend: "No, I mean weasels and rabies?  What is happening in your subconscious?"
Me: "Neither of us probably really wants to know.  Anyway, it gets better."
Boyfriend: "Better than weasels and rabies?"
Me: "Oh yes.  This is the funny part.  I was African-American.  But you were still you, and still very pasty.  And you kept telling me that I didn't need to go to the doctor's because I had only dreamed that I had been bitten by a rabid weasel.  And also, I had a baby.  And the baby was African-American.  A little boy.  And I had given him corn rows."
Boyfriend: "People could not make these things up if they tried.  Even Dr. Seuss couldn't.  Also, are you trying to tell me something with this African-American baby business?"
Me: "What?! No!  Anyway, do you think this is better or worse than the dream where we had a dog that always ate the top four buttons off my shirt causing my boobs to fall out?"
Boyfriend: "More creative.  Although only the top four buttons is kind of highly specific.  But overall I like the dog dream better."
Me: "Why because my boobs were always on display?"
Boyfriend:  "Yeah, that and the fact that you DIDN'T HAVE A BABY"

He's just not ready to deal with a miniature version of me; although the thought of someone else with the same kind of irrational logic is kind of exciting.
Also, I think that he is incorrect about one thing- Dr. Seuss could totally make this shit up.  Except then it would rhyme.  And be packaged in a neat way for six year olds.  And be slightly moralistic.
And if  you haven't noticed I want this blog to be not just about food and cooking.  But also about my life.  Because sometimes it is really weird and funny.  And, like my rabid weasel dream, is not to be missed.

i'm back in the saddle again

Gosh, I haven't written in months and months and months and months.  Ooops.  Badbad.  And SO much has happened.  SO.  MUCH.

Here is a last season recap - main things only: I moved in with the man, work was crazy busy and good, and then crazy and bad, things were rocky with the man, things are better, might be getting a new job, and there is so much food happening.

So basically, I am relocated and master of my own kitchen, because the boy can rarely be bothered to be in there unless eating, and my current job has decided to treat me like crap and I have basically decided to smile and take it.  Because that is how I roll.  Doormat style.  Not really.  I just don't really have millions of employment opportunities and can't afford to leave.

So I should probably start talking about the food.  There were definitely hits and misses and you will get to know about ALLLL of them.

Let's start on an easy and positive note.  I like those kinds of notes.


Crock-pot Buffalo Chicken Dip

2 oz blocks cream cheese
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
3/4 cup buffalo wing/hot sauce
1 cup ranch dressing
2 10oz cans of chicken***

***NB: I totally think this might be kind of grody.  I obtained a whole cold rotisserie chicken from the grocery store and stripped about half of it for the dip.  Basically one breast, thigh, drum stick.  Meat from a can just seems so wrong to me.

Dump everything in crock pot.  Turn crock pot on to your desired heat level depending on how quickly you need the dip to be ready.  It will get sufficiently melty asap if you crank that baby up.  I kept mine on warm for about two hours and then upped it to low about a half hour before I had to leave the house with it for a party.  It was a HUGE hit.  Along with the strawberry cupcakes with champagne buttercream I brought.

bridal-stravaganza dessert trio

One of my very good friends recently married.  This was not her first marriage so she decided to keep the ceremony short and sweet and very very small.  I was one of two non-family members invited.  But even though this was the second time around and she and he were already living together in a well established, well furnished household, some of my work friends and I decided to hold a bridal shower type event for her.  Initially, I was planning to bring a pasta salad (which in retrospect would have been SO much less work than what I did), but I found out there was going to be a green salad and a potato salad and probably wouldn't have been much need for a pasta salad.  So I fell back on dessert, which is where I always seem to end up with these types of things.
It did not help that the week of the shower eastern Massachusetts weather decided to be around 80-90 degrees with 70% and up humidity.  And my kitchen has almost no ventilation of any kind.  It was like baking in a sauna.  I would hurriedly sweat my tookis off and shove something in the oven and quickly retreat to the dark cool of my bedroom.  It took me the better part of two days to make three desserts this way.

First were key lime cupcakes with blackberry buttercream.  I ended up making both of these on day one and decided to assemble right before leaving for fear of melting (which I was ultimately right to fear).  Day two I made red velvet cake truffles and strawberry brown butter bettys.  The truffles sounded SO easy, but were a pain.  The bettys sounded painful, but ended up being so so simple.  Go figure.  Initially I wasn't going to make the bettys, I had the ingredients for a no-bake chocolate mint bar, but realized at the last minute that I might want to make something that wouldn't melt.

So the cake truffles.  I had SUCH high hopes for these, but they seriously left me wanting.  Maybe it was because I cheated and used canned frosting?  Who knows?  I felt ok in using box cake mix (I actually have no issues with box cake mix, though I will go from scratch 60% of the time, I have HUGE issues with canned frosting as I have mentioned before.  BLECCCHHH!!!!)  Basically all I did was bake the cake, cool the cake, crumble the cake up into a very fine crumb, mix the cake with a can of frosting so that it was moist-ish and would hold a shape, roll cake balls, chill and set cake balls for several hours in the fridge and then dip cake balls into melted chocolate.  I think my first issue was that I needed more chocolate than I had; I think it would have been easier and neater looking if I was able to completely submerge the cake ball.  My second issue was trying to cut corners and melt the chocolate in the microwave (which I find never works as well as a double boiler).  My third issue was kind of a generalized problem I have when it comes to baking (especially when making cookies) - when I have to form things by hand I get really lazy and start making things too big.  My final issue was something I should have recognized before even attempting this - my chocolate melting issue.  Any time I am in a hurry to do something my chocolate NEVER EVER EVER tempers/melts properly.    If I can take my time with it, it comes out beautifully.

So clearly bridal stravaganza is complete.  I have sufficiently celebrated them (for the time being - they are having a much larger reception/party in August).  And I'm happy for them.  I am the one, after all, who forced them to suck it up and get together in the first place because I knew they were both interested in the other and I was tired of chasing sketchy guys away from her when we would go out to the bar.  I told him to man up and get off his ass and if he wanted her to do something about it already.  And here it is almost a year later and they're married.

The man in my life of course accompanied me to the wedding and pointed out that while I am happy, I will probably not be sincerely happy for anyone getting married until I do the same.  This is probably truer than he realizes as I've lost out on the whole wedding/marriage thing once before when my ex-fiance had a mental bipolar breakdown.  And as much as I love my guy and believe that good things are headed for us down the road (we're moving in together by August 1st), I have kind of lost or given up or buried that idea of a wedding, etc.  I honestly don't care if I ever get married as long as I feel like he'll always be there and be reliable and love me and father my children someday.  I've given up the dream of the white dress and the party and everything that goes with that because last time I was that excited and happy and secure in something I lost it.  Not only did I lose that, I lost almost everything else in my life structurally speaking.  It has definitely taken me sometime to come to terms with that and accept the fact that my path will be bumpier than I anticipated.  I'm actually really scared of getting engaged this time around, even though I can picture the two of us having a strong marriage.  Almost like, once that happens I'll lose everything again.  Put it this way: I want the marriage, the strong permanent relationship and everything good and bad that goes with it.  The idea of a wedding scares me and just seems too surreal.  I mean even after I was engaged the first time, my ex basically flat out refused to discuss any tangible wedding plans with me, no date, no location, no number of guests, etc.  To the point where I had given up trying to get him to talk about it and anytime I told anyone that I was engaged I was almost more embarrassed than had I been single.  We were engaged for over a year before he ultimately broke it off.  I had actually reached the point of thinking "What's the point of being engaged if we're never actually going to get married?"  I was actually the first among all my friends to get engaged.  Now they're almost all married, and I'm not.  Very, very rarely this fact bothers me.  The vast majority of days I'm thankful I'm not married to the other guy (and bound to a lifetime of stress and trouble and his mental illness that he refused to properly address) and that I have found my current guy - someone who has told me that I am his soul mate and better half.

.until further notice.

I want a tart pan.  So so badly.  A pretty pretty silver tart pan with fluted edges.  I wants it.  And then....oh ho, in the words of Dr. Seuss - "Oh the places you'll go".

I haven't actually made or conquered anything new since the success of sweet potato burritos - too many other household-y chores to do.  Also I have cleaned up a couple peanut butter fudge attempts, and every time I get the stove/general kitchen clean I don't want to then go dirty it myself.  I mean I did make jam cookies today (with strawberry, blueberry, raspberry, and cranberry orange centers) but I always feel like those don't count.  I mean, who would count those?  Eh.  But yes, a tart pan.  And, an ice cream maker.  Although this time of year, a tart pan would come in far more handy.  And also a madeleine mold.  And a Japanese mandolin.  And a new tattoo.  And now I feel like I'm starting to sound like Steve Martin in "The Jerk" (which is a classically hilarious movie that everyone should see if only to appreciate it when I make statements like "And that's all I need".
So nothing new at the moment, and probably not until the weekend is over, because I have a long weekend full of gooey eyed customers making kissy faces at each other to deal with.  And I will fully own the term hypocrite, but watching that stuff is like watching a car crash.  You can't look away, but you wish you never looked.  And I am in a relationship with a man that sends me sweet little text messages telling me that I am his angel and the light of his life and wishing me a "Good morning beautiful" every day.  But seriously peeps, be mindful - not everyone can have nor wants to have a significant other.

.flip to page 96.

Work has been incredibly slow lately, which isn't surprising, but it leaves me with ample time on my hands.  Now I can either work myself up into all of my neuroses related to my romantical life and my uncertain future, or I can take adventures and get creative.  Seeing as how I finally unearthed my car this morning from the foot of snow encasing it in a hope that I would have to work today I choose adventures (much like the classic series of my youth Choose Your Own Adventure ®).  These adventures include the craft store, as I've decided to start making my own jewelry and the grocery store to procure cranberries to make some Cranapana Muffins.  And yes, every time I see the word Cranapana my mind wants to see "Crap-ana" which sounds intriguing enough to make.  Today might also potentially be a double recipe day, but I'm not sure what that second one will be yet.

.not safe for human habitation.

My head is so very much a place I wouldn't wish ANYONE to live.  Really.  Yesterday after a long day of cozy snuggles and watching episode after episode of Merlin online (shut it, yes I have my nerdy streak) and making what was ultimately a seriously amazing pulled pork I began mulling over my romantical life as I am often wont to do these days.

That was not a smart move.
Because then began the classic April style over-analyzing in which I work myself up into such a frenzy of unwarranted disappointment and negativity.  I blame myself for this, well myself and the unfortunate interactions I have had with men up until recently.  I consider myself such a champ for being able to continue to put myself out there and meet men and date.  I mean theoretically I could totally shut myself off from love and dating, but because I don't, I figure I'm so advanced I can just let go of what has happened in the past (pretty much standard  liars, cheaters, users, and then one very seriously heart-wrenching blow of a broken engagement and the ensuing messed up co-dependency that lasted for almost a year afterward even though we were four states apart and he, in his bipolar induced mania, moved in with and married another woman).  Maybe I'm not really over it?  I mean, I am certainly over it in the 'I-would-never-take-you-back-if-you-were-the-last-man-on-earth' sense, but I don't know.  How do you get over, as in truly get over, someone else's actions?  I mean, I'm no longer emotionally hurting from what happened, but these individuals' actions have certainly left me with some issues.  And while I try very hard and feel that I generally succeed at not projecting these issues onto other men that I date, I do have my moments where these issues are kind of all consuming.  And then there are a very select few friends that I unload them all onto, which I hate to do, but sometimes I really need to.  Generally I kind of feel that no one should have to listen to my nonsense except me.  And here is the kicker, when I'm in the middle of one of these neurotic spirals and I'm either on my own or talking to a friend I am so fully aware of how I sound.  And I hate it.  Which makes it all the worse I feel.  I know exactly how I sound and know exactly how ridiculous I am being and I just can't stop.  It's like a train with no brakes.  I either run out of steam on my own or there is usually one person that can talk me down and stop the train Superman style.  Either way you slice it though, it is EXHAUSTING.  By the end of the night yesterday I was wiped.  I felt like I had run a marathon.  And emotionally, I probably had.

Ugh.  In the realm of positive things (well I mean, it IS positive that I'm not dumping my neuroses on the guys I date...there would be not even a glimmer of hope for me if I did) there is a new(er) car in my future and I'm on to bigger and better cooking projects.  Well maybe not better or even bigger for that matter.  But they are out there, waiting to be conquered.