Thursday, April 28, 2011

veggies: week 12

I think I may have missed posting about the veg last week. Maybe not. My brain's been kind of forgetful lately.

- snow peas
- sad-looking lettuce (It's cool. I'll still eat it.)
- carrots
- BEETS! :)
- leeks
- green garlic
- turnips
- easter egg radishes

Tonight, as I prep for tomorrow's Royal Wedding Party, Russell J is taking over dinner & making Ranch Style Chicken à la The Pioneer Woman. Come hang out with me tomorrow & wear your tiara?

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

back in action

Today is the first day in about three weeks that I've felt like cooking. This is great news!

My favorite recipes are those that are deceptively easy & undeniably delicious. Tonight, I'm busting out my favorite lemon chicken recipe, some roasted grape tomatoes, & I'm leaving the salad responsibilities up to Russell J.

And! The best part of the night! My favorite restaurant is celebrating their half birthday this week with half off apps, desserts, & beverages. Tonight is half off dessert night. Not only do I fully support the celebration of half birthdays, but I also fly into a rage every time a restaurant's website fails to list a dessert menu. No worries here! Beckett's Table has all of their desserts on their site AND they have a chocolate covered bacon smore. Oh yes. They did. It hurts so goooood. Anyway, I'm sure you could Google a recipe for something as so wrong/so right as a chocolate covered bacon smore, but that is something I refuse to do. Because then I would know all the dirty little secrets to making one. And I would weigh eight hundred pounds.

In the interest of my general health, I'll save my fave dessert for special occasions like tonight. Happy Wednesday, everybody!!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011


This blog post is going to be chock full of self pity.


Totally warning you.

I am sick.
What I mean is I've been sick, off & on, for the past six months. Losing my breakfast at work (obviously the best way to make a good impression). Fevers that max out at 103.1. General malaise. And, as I found out last week, I've lost eight pounds since November. Kind of a cool side effect, but the weight loss is what really made me worry. I never, and I mean never, lose weight. I can live off of Chick-fil-A or spend all of my free time at the gym & I will pretty much stay at a steady weight.

So I finally went to the doctor, chatted her up, & got some blood drawn.

My stomach is playing host to this little buddy.

Helicobacter pylori. H. pylori, if you're intimately acquainted (which I am) or of the medical profession (me again).

We probably met when I forgot to brush my teeth with bottled water in Puebla. Or when I ate one too many platanos fritos that time I went to Rocky Point. Or from all those fatcakes/bowls of porridges/dishes I didn't scrub quite well enough in Namibia. Or when I was trying to be polite & ate dinner at my patient's house. That last choice was probably the kiss of death, because I've convinced myself that a sense of adventure cures any little bug you might encounter in the Third World. Also, that semester of drinking/dancing/laughing a little too much in France probably did not help my immune system recover.

At any rate, a severe lack of sleep, 70-hour work weeks, & a diet heavily supported by cows who tell me to Eet Mor Chiken became the perfect storm in which my buddy H. pylori decided to sink my poor stomach's ship.

So. For the next two weeks, my life centers around antibiotics & proton pump inhibitors.

Moral of the story: Get some sleep. Eat some veggies. Don't kiss strangers in foreign lands. And only eat street tacos when they smell really, really amazing. At least then, the stomach demons were worth it.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

veggies: week 11

- green garlic
- swiss chard
- baby beets (totally not enough beets to satisfy my beet cravings)
- green onions
- carrots
- more easter egg radishes
- lettuce
- arugula

Monday, April 11, 2011

ode to russell j

I can do this, because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Russell has less than zero interest in reading my blog.

I adore him.

I love that he loves Vegas the Wonder Dog. I love that he never complains about walking her or about the fact I sleep in until the very last second possible & then run around the house like a madwoman every day before work. I love that he can never make a recipe the same way twice. I love that he is thrifty & makes me delicious, comfort-foodie things like shepherd's pie & turkey chili & then freezes the leftovers so that we can eat them on lazy nights where we would rather just go to Chick-fil-A. I love that he's calm when I panic, that he enjoys silly things like Say Yes to the Dress & the Kardashians & that he makes great pizza dough. I love that he laughs at his own jokes & kisses me on the tip of my nose & always takes out the trash.

But most of all, above everything else, I love that for the past two & a half years, he has always held my hand any time we've gone anywhere.

So I love him. So there.

In the meantime, have you heard about this Engagement Chicken nonsense? Evidently, if you make this roast chicken for your boyfriend, he will propose. Now I'm not one to exchange dinner for diamonds (& I've made a roast chicken or two before, without receiving any proposals), but it sounds really good. And my current girl crush, Ina Garten, has an Engagement Chicken recipe as well. So conflicted!

Tonight: my turn back in the kitchen!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Sometimes (most of the time), I feel like I came into this world with all the answers & all of the sparkle that I would need, & as I've gotten older, it's all been drained for me.

As a child, I knew where I felt safe & right & good. At my piano. In bed with a book. On stage, purging out all of my bad feelings.

And all of a sudden, I'm 23 years old, looking for a copy of When Bad Things Happen to Good People. Because I'm fresh out of answers & chock full of sadness & when my sweet-as-dextrose boyfriend ask me what's wrong, I lie, & say, "Nothing", because it's been two months already, shouldn't I be like, over the fact that my best friend died without giving me any notice?

So I blink back tears in a Borders that closes in nine days, until we get into the car. And in the dark, pretending that I'm watching the cars pass me by, I cry. I cry as hard as I cried the first time I really got my heart broken. I cry & cry & cry, silently, so he won't notice, so he won't feel bad, so he won't ask what's wrong. Because if I say her name, I'll only cry harder.

I cry because it all feels so foreign, like walking into the wrong classroom my freshman year of college, only I'm not sure where to exit. No, that's not quite right. It feels as foreign as being roused from a deep sleep by a phone call in my second language. At some point, I'll be able to cope with the conversation, but it will never feel right. I will always feel as if I'm missing something, as if she's about to bust through my front door & tell me it was all a joke, & wow, she got me good.

I swear a lot more now than I used to. If I smoked, I would probably do that. But I don't. So I swear & I eat too much chocolate & I've gotten subscriptions every magazine that sounds the slightest bit interesting & I should probably buy stock in Lush because it's my latest futile attempt at keeping my insomnia at bay.

But mostly, I feel so empty & so alone & at a loss for everything right about now.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

veggies: week 10

- spinach
- arugula
- lettuce
- kohlrabi
- carrots
- leeks
- dill
- turnips