Coconut Sweet Potato Bisque and the last vestiges of fall

Yes, I realize that fall isn't quite over, but I have to tell you. Fall = October. November/December = Christmas. And that's just plain fact.

My latest culinary obsession is the Tupelo Honey Cafe cookbook and the Coconut Sweet Potato Bisque recipe found therein.

Ingredients: 

2 large sweet potatoes, peeled & thinly sliced

4 cups and 4 1/2 teaspoons H2O

1 can unsweetened coconut milk (14oz can)

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons REAL maple syrup (this ain't no place for Aunt Jemimah)

1 1/2 teaspoons honey

2 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/4 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice

1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

4 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (also known as a "dash")

Equipment:

Cutting knife

Vegetable peeler

Immersion blender

Large cast iron dutch oven

Tasting spoon

Self-control

Wash, peel, thinly slice your potatoes.

Throw 'em in the pot with your 4 cups over water over high heat until they're boiling. Boil 20 minutes, or until you can easily break apart the potatoes with a spoon. Reduce heat to medium and if you have a potato masher, mash up the potatoes in the water. If not, a large spoon will do quite nicely. Add the coconut milk, sugar, syrup, honey, salt, pepper, and pumpkin pie spice. At this point, use your immersion blender to blend everything up together, being careful to keep the wand under the surface of the soup so you don't make a giant mess. If you do, it's ok though. Simmer for approximately 15 minutes and let it thicken.

In a bowl, combine the cornstarch and the 4 1/2 teaspoons of water to make a paste. Add to the soup along with the cayenne and blend again. This will thicken the soup even more to a deliciously creamy texture. Soup should coat the back of a spoon.

Permission to lose your mind granted. :)

Please note, if you do not have an immersion blender you can definitely use a food processor and work in batches transferring back and forth. I used to do that until I got an immersion blender and I can say with confidence it has changed my soup making life. This is the one I have.  Bon appetit!

PS, the Tupelo Honey Cafe is in Asheville, North Carolina, and if you ever have the chance to go, GO. Not an option.

What ha' happened was...

Andrew got me flowers for Valentine's Day. {Awwwwww!}

Dane asked Meghan to be his Lawfully Wedded Wife! {Awwwww, a second time!}

At some point I made Ree's Meatloaf for dinner.

And took pictures of it. All whilst my husband sat salivating by. How cruel.

Andrew and I went to "Science Day" at a local elementary school to help four classes of 3rd graders "swab" the environment and inoculate agar plates. Except you can't use words like "inoculate" and "agar". You have to say "smear the q-tip on the jello".

He wears his Toms every day of the week. And I like it.

Little bird, little bird--brush your gray wings on my head...{tweet, tweet!}

Scraaaaappy New Year, e'er'body!

Here's the shakedown of our Christmas and New Year's goings on. Not really, it's just some photos. So, it's more like a mini shakedown.

PW's French Onion Soup for Andrew's and my Christmas dinner. Sacré bleu, is all I have to say about that.

Presents under the Christmas tree. Yippy skippy!

Now, I can't take the credit for this idear, because as you might've guessed it's from the January issue of Martha Stewart Living. It's obviously very easy and it's a nice way to let your tree live on for a few weeks into January without having to feel like a lazy bones for having the full regalia of Christmas decorations up until Valentine's Day.

A bunch of tulips, a coupla carnations, some branches from the ol' Fraser fur and you've got yourself a soothing, simple January bouquet. I threw in the snowflake ornament just for kicks. And because it was still attached to the branch I cut off.

For auld lang syne!

Happy New Year, 

MaryGene

Numbers One Through Ten

Feeling sad that Christmas is over? Here's a few things to 'chin up' about:

1. The brother and sister down the street zooming around on their brand new gender specific pink and blue motorized razor scooters. And the fact that, while they will come inside sweaty and stinky, they have actually burned no calories at all, only gasoline.

2. Gift cards!

3. The infinite supply of gum in my stocking(s).

4. New Year's is just around the corner. Bubbly, hoppin' john, collards, and a brand new start!

5. It snowed in Charleston. For the second time. In one winter.

6. Reminiscing about our well planned but poorly executed "igloo" in Hendersonville that I'm sure any Eskimo worth her salt would giggle at.

7. On the flip side of the ghastly and depressing task of un-decorating for Christmas, is the delight of simplifying your surroundings for January.

8. The two Hallmark driven "holidays" between now and Easter keister: Valentine's Day, and St. Patrick's Day. One's about love, the other's about the love of the Irish. And about how everyone you know claims a liddle bit o' brogue they can't disguise.

9. America.

10. On January 1, the countdown begins again. Merry, merry!

Mary had a baby, yes, Lord!

If you squint, screw your face up the right way and look closely at the snow-covered house, you will see a lady beckoning at the door for the sleigh riders to hurry on to the house. Likely for cider, hot chocolate or some such delightful confection. In another dimension, that's me.

In this dimension, this is me. Leggings, hoodie, amazing knit socks from Loose Lucy's or Granny's Goodies (can't remember which), and of course a Christmas apron if there's baking to be done. And there's always baking to be done.

When I went home this weekend to Andrew, Christmas came with me, wrapped around my shoulders and tied around my heart. I finished up decorating the apartment, (also known as getting our Christmas tree), mandated (nicely) that Christmas music be the only music played, and made PW's blackberry cobbler for dessert one night. I would have taken pictures, but I've realized by now that if you're at all savvy at this whole blogging/internet thing, you've probably met The Pioneer Woman.

On Friday night Andrew and I went to the Varsity theater on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, (kind of like the Astro (may she rest in peace) for all you Tiger fans), bought Salted Caramel Hot Chocolates from Starbucks, (recommendation, YES), and took in It's a Wonderful Life on the big screen in good old fashioned black and white. I loved every minute of it.

On Saturday, we got up bright at early at the frigid crack of nine thirty and made it over to Rob and Ann's house in Raleigh. They had graciously retrieved our Christmas tree from the mountains of North Carolina for us and we were just going to pick up our adopted baby tree and bring him to his new home. As we were heading out to the car Ann shouted, "look!", and sure enough: snow. It snowed on Saturday from about two o'clock onward, enough that our neighbors made a really big, sad, dirty snowman. College kids. Can't live with 'em (germs), can't keep 'em from playing bad electric guitar at all hours. By Sunday afternoon, the snow had burned off, but the cold dug in his icy heels and had decided to extend his stay.

And now this. We had requested a "table-top" tree from Rob and Ann, and a table-top tree is what we got. Short. Little. Table-top. Perfect. Only problem is, our table top that we were going to put our table-topper on was apparently too tall for our table-top tree. So our tree ended up on the floor like a regular, read: tall, tree and is more like a Christmas bush than a tree. "Oh, Christmas bush, oh, Christmas bush, how hearty your diameter..."

I'm almost 5'3" but I was wearing probably two inch clogs in this picture. So, I'm about 5'5" in this pic. (OOooOO, go me!) However, if you forget that little (get it) detail, and look at this photograph long enough, I kind of look like a giant. Kind of.

Never have I ever felt closer to the heavens. "Angels from the realms of glory, wing your flight o'er all the earth...!" Whew! I'm out of breath. You know, lack of oxygen at these high altitudes... :)

Vitamins. With a short 'i', like the British.

Go here. Read. Get a big glass of water. Swallow. Zip those skinny jeans.

I didn't have to pee in the woods. But I would have if it came down to it.

My life is straight-up bananas right now. So sorry if my lack of blogging has messed up your morning routine. But I'm not going to tell you a sob story about how busy I am. 'Cuz I don't have time for that.

So. Andrew and I both grew up camping every summer and sometimes fall. Ironically enough, my family went from the beach to the mountains, just minutes from Andrew's parents' house and Andrew's family went from the mountains to the beach, a few hours north of my parents' house. We probably passed each other on the highway. Good thing we didn't meet back then though. I was pretty squirrely. Like I'm not now. Right.

Anyway, Andrew and I decided to take our first fledgling camper steps as newlyweds last weekend, at a state park only a half hour from our apartment. We kept it simple--tent, stove, sleeping bags--got everything in the car and headed out Friday afternoon to spend the night in the woods. (Which has always been kind of been an enigma to me. But whatever.)

Plastic bins always get the job done.

We got to the campground just as the sun was setting--we tried and tried to get there before dark, but Ranger Rick and his Girlscout assistant gave us a site that already had someone in it so we had to go back to their little hut and switch sites. We ended up pitching our tent and starting the fire during the wee twilight hours of the evening. (This has nothing to do with vampires, for those of you who's hearts just skipped a beat).

I built the fire, Andrew pitched the tent. Contraptions are not my thing.

We decided to be super low maintenance in the grub department: hot dogs, baked beans, and s'mores for dinner and coffee and biscuits on a stick for breakfast, granola bars while we were ABSOLUTELY DYING for our biscuits to get done. Easy peasy lemon squeesy. I can't say much for the nutritional value of these meals, but who counts calories while they're camping? You look like a swamp creature anyway, (remember you forsook your nice warm bed to sleep on a leaky air mattress in the middle of the woods that happens to be less than two miles from the highway. And BONUS, it's frickin' freezing Mr. Bigglesworth.), so who cares if you feel a bit squidgy around the middle, too. Right? Right. I love camping.

I know what you must be asking yourself: what on earth is a biscuit on a stick??? Well, Reader, they are only the most delightful, if just a hair troublesome, camping breakfast foodstuff that will ever cross your lips in the pale blush hours of the morning.

What you need:

Biscuits
Sticks
Fire
Critical Thinking Skills

Acute hunger makes men do crazy things.

YUM!

We filled ours with grape jelly, but you could use honey, butter, strawberry jam, chocolate...oh, the possibilities!

Our first solo camping trip was a great success--we enjoyed ourselves immensely and might even do it again sometime. Heh, heh. Although if I had to choose camping or Christmas, I'd choose Christmas.

Speaking of Christmas!...I started decorating this weekend. I KNOW! My obsession is out of control. But I just love it. Pictures will follow forthwith!

Numbers One Through Eight

1] Although it is not technically Fall yet, I am burning a Yankee Candle Company Autumn Wreath candle. It smells like Fall and Christmas all at the same time which, you know, is amazing. Calendar dates are more like guidelines, mm?

2] My last day at the Best Cosmetic Store Ever is Monday. And there was much rejoicing.

3] Today at the aforementioned cosmetic store, a lady came up to pay for her items whilst smoking a cigarette. Another lady had her yip-yip dog in her purse and it was growling at everyone. We had to call the police because a dude was pilfering fragrances. And a man asked if we had any snacks. (???) This is not Sam's Club. There's no shrimp cocktail on ice behind the counter.

4] The Clemson Tigers won this afternoon. As if we would lose. Pfft.

5] My hubby got us Med Deli, (short for Mediterranean Deli. Doi.), for supper tonight. If you don't know what that is you need to get your baba ghanoush to Chapel Hill and find out.

6] Andrew keeps asking me to watch 24 episodes on Netflix. We've watched Seasons One and Two. Annnnd I'm kind of over it?? Is that blasphemous?? I mean, I looooove 24. (Oh, Jack!) But it's kind of stressful.

7] I'm thirsty.

8] Amen.

Red Beans & Rice did miss her

Thank you, Sir Mix-A-Lot, for that delightful contribution to society. What a gem.

The other day, I realized that I had somewhat abdicated my duties as creative and resourceful housewife for much of this summer, resorting to grilled chicken and vegetables as my dinner plan of choice. Granted, this meal plan is quite thrifty and managed to help us squeeze a few extra dollars from our grocery budget in the last month. But. It's boring. And it gets old. And I hate thawing chicken. And trimming off the fat. Blech. Barf. Vom. Ew. Gross. Hate it.

So, I decided to search the trusty ol' internet for something I hadn't cooked before that didn't involve chicken. At first I was looking for slow cooker recipes, but it was already mid-afternoon and I needed something for dinner in a few hours. Enter, Red Beans & Rice!



The only problem was that I found a few different recipes with many of the same ingredients but a few extra crazy-complicated steps that I just wasn't in the mood to follow. Soooo, I decided to make like the scientist I married and experiment. Heh, heh. Here's the recipe I came up with and let me just say, it's DELIGHTFUL. And healthy. And cheap. And it lasted us for three and a half dinners.

**Please note, if you are a stickler for measurements, this recipe may make you want to shave your beard and wear sackcloth and ashes because I pretty much went by the measurements of "pinch" and "dash". Don't hate me.

Heavy pot (I used my cast iron dutch oven, which I will rant and rave over every time I use it because it is the best thing that ever happened to my kitchen. That, and my ice cream maker.)
2 cans kidney beans
One package turkey kielbasa (sausage), sliced
2 cups-ish high quality H2O
Salt & pepper, to taste
2 stalks celery, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
1 onion, diced
Coupla garlic cloves, minced
A few turns of the pan of Olive Oil
Hot sauce, to taste (I used Cholula because it's the best)
Cayenne pepper, to taste
Paprika, to taste
Dried thyme, to taste
One bay leaf (take it out before you serve it. No eating allowed.)
Long grain wild rice. Or whatever kind of rice you like.
Chopped green onions for garnish on top


So, get all your diced veggies and throw them into your heated pot with your olive oil. Saute 'em around a bit. Once they get a translucent and smellin' all good, add your spices. If anything at all, go easy on the Cayenne at first because a little goes a long way. You can always add more, but you can't take it out! Stir it all up and let it meld for about a minute. Then add your water and beans and sausage. If I've left anything out, add that, too. Bring the heat up to a simmer because you want everything to get all mixed up and delicious together and let some of the water evaporate off to create a nice, spicy saucy juice. Cook your rice in a separate pot, and serve in a bowl with the rice on the bottom the beans and sausage in the middle and the chopped green onions on top. EASY PEASY LEMON SQUEEZY! Remember to taste throughout and adjust your spices accordingly.

I apologize to the city of New Orleans for stealing their thunder. Bon appétit!

A few days in Charleston: Episode Two--The Pawn Shop

Of course, if I am in Charleston, I'm going to carve out some time to see my ~*gurlies*~, one about to be flung to the far east, and one about to be flung into jewelry design fame. No, seriously. Kelly a.k.a Stinks is going to China to be a missionary. Used to be she might've said you couldn't get me to be a missionary in a foreign land for all the tea in China...and now she just might get to find out exactly how much tea they're talking about. Lauren a.k.a La or Raren is just tapping into the amazing world that is gemology and metalsmithing and is about to take Two Blue Stripes to the next level-like, woah!

And I am lucky enough--no, blessed enough--to call them dear.

Thursday afternoon the three of us convened at Lauren's house, both Kelly and Lauren pleasantly surprised that I was in town, to catch up, ogle Lauren's latest creations, and exclaim that Kelly just purchased her plane ticket to the ends of the earth. It was a glorious reunion, I have to say. It always is.

After an hour or so of chatter, we set out to see if we might find Lauren some "scraps" at a local pawn shop. She'd been dying to go and check it out, but needed reinforcements because, well, it's a pawn shop. Sketchy doesn't really cover it. None of us had ever been into a pawn shop before, and had only envisioned it as a place that burglars frequent to exchange their loot for cash, or that divorcees go to cash in on their dissolved marriages and turn in their rings. But what we didn't imagine was that this pawn shop was a cleverly disguised arsenal with guns of all makes and models lining the walls and glistening behind the fingerprint riddled glass cases. SCARY.



Unfortunately, we left empty handed, astonished at the overpriced junk jewelry but ready to get the heck out of dodge. Good story, huh? Hey, a blogger's got to blog about something, right?

Anyway, we met at Chic-fil-a the next morning to put our Bridge Run Free Chicken Biscuit coupons to good use and then Kelly went to work and Raren and I went to the beach with some peeps. Great day in the mornin'.

If you're totally disillusioned with my story-telling abilities, just wait until Episode Three. There are pictures and they are funny. I'll give you a hint: it's been a long time comin'.

The Saturday Morning Post: take 2

Andrew is finally HOME!!! Oh, you didn't know he was gone? That's because I didn't tell you. Want to make sure and keep the creeps out. Anyway, he's HOME HOME HOME from Ecuador--and I spent what was probably the longest week of my life alone here in good ol' 'baccy country. Except my mama came for a few days. But other than that I was alone. Destitute. Heart-broken. And not even a puppy dog to keep me company. Okay, okay. It wasn't that bad. But it was.

ANYWAY. While mama mia was here we went to see two movies: Killers (LAME), and Letters to Juliet (CUTESY).





See 'em if you wanna. Your life would still be complete if you skipped them, but if you're at a loss and don't really feel like seeing Splice or some other freaky-deaky dutch sci-fi movie, then go right ahead and purchase your ticket with your semi-current college ID. (I mean, you still feel like a college kid, right? right.) And Andrew and I watched Nine (THEATER/MUSICAL) last night.



Depends on who you are/what you like, but I thought it was good. Lots of chicks in underwear/bustiers, which I didn't quite understand--in all honesty, Chicago and Moulin Rouge were way better, but I will say that Daniel Day-Lewis (Last of the Mohicans, There Will Be Blood) is a great actor. And he is in Nine. His character's name is Guido Contini. And they sing about a million songs with his name in it. It gets in your head.

ANYWAY. We're going to the beach tomorrow! Yippee! A whole three days of oceanside delights. I am making this to take with us. Don't be jealous. I'll have to take 64 walks every day to counteract the calories in this thing. But that's ok. It's vacation. Vacation is code for "pig-out". Which is a hilarious saying.

ANYWAY. When Andrew got home from Ecuador, I made the most American dinner I could think of: hamburgers, corn on the cob, fruit salad, and brownies. Martha has an excellent "recipe" for grilling corn and it goes a little something like this: submerge ears of corn in husks in cold water for one hour. Grill in husks for 20 minutes, let cool, remove husks and silk, and serve with salt and pepper and butter. And floss. (I added the floss part. I think it's a necessary addition). It's delish. Last night I also made raspberry sorbet, (also from Martha). It's super duper easy and a great summertime dessert! All you need is a food processor, 12 oz bag of frozen raspberries (or three cups fresh berries, frozen), 1/4 cup sugar, 1/4 cup water; and 1/2 cup whipping cream and another tablespoon of sugar. To make your sorbet, pulse frozen fruit in processor until just chopped, stir water and sugar together in a bowl until sugar is dissolved, then pour into processor. Puree until you've got an ice-cream-like consistency, then transfer to airtight container and freeze for 30 minutes. When 30 minutes is up, whip your 1/2c cream and tablespoon of sugar until stiff peaks form. Serve in cute, summery glasses! YUM! drop a few blueberries on top and you've got yourself a 4th of July dessert that's sure to be a crowd pleaser. God bless America. I would add a picture of the sorbet--it's so pretty!-- but I don't have one and I can't find one online. All I know is that it's in the July issue of MS Living. Check-ch-check-check-check-ch-check it out.

ANYWAY. Now, I've got to go climb Mt. Kilimanlaundry so we can pack, head 'em up and move 'em out. And by the way, only 188 days until CHRISTMAS!!!

Shake, shake, shake, shake-uh-shake it!

I should take a shower. But I'd rather blog. I've had about 87 cups of cranberry juice this afternoon, so I'm really hopped up on the Q. Or hyped up on the Q. (What is Q, by the way? I hope it's nothing bad...) Either way, I'm pretty sure my urinary tract is in tip-top shape. My glomerular filtration rate must be off the charts. I mean, but still good. Moving on to another drink, however. Anyone ever heard of a Queen's Park Swizzle? Anyone know what a swizzle is? Yeah, it's not a dance move or something a rapper uses to cleverly rhyme with words he made up and then trademarked to go on to make millions and influence thousands of unsuspecting young children. It's not. I didn't know what a swizzle was either until a few weeks ago when I went home to see my brother, Noah, who had flown in to visit my parents for a few days down in the Chuck. By definition, a swizzle is "any of the various tall, frothy mixed drinks made usually of rum and lime juice and sugar shaken with ice" or "a tall, traditionally rum based cocktail filled with crushed ice. A stirring rod or swizzle stick is quickly rotated between the palm of the hands to form a frost on the glass." Now, I'm no lush, but... it's AWESOME.

Granted, we were working in less than perfect conditions with less than all of the proper tools, but we made do. Noah taught me how to make a Queen's Park Swizzle and a Bourbon Smash. Annnnd boy did we make some super sippers. They dance on the tongue and sing in the belly. I'm talking about my fav, though. The QP swizzle. I'm no NYC bartender, but through my research I've discovered that a perfect Queen's Park Swizzle would be in a Collin's glass, (tall and skinny, like me. Not.), with true Demerara sugar syrup or "sugar in the raw"--not the white stuff you plop in your tea--a nice 8 year rum, (like a nice sea bass), fresh squeezed lime juice, fresh mint leaves, real crushed ice, (think Sonic ice), and a few dashes of Angostura bitters. {Bitters is "a distillation of aromatic herbs, barks, roots, and plants, steeped in alcohol." It's approximately 45% alcohol, so not something you want to drink outright, but just used in small amounts to add flavor to a drink or food. Much like vanilla extract. Angostura is made from roots. And some other stuff. It's good, don't worry.}

So. First things first. Equipment: tins, jigger, muddler, swizzle stick, Collin's glass or the next best thing, straw. Ingredients: crushed ice, lime juice, mint, Demerara syrup, 8 year rum, Angostura bitters, magic. Numero uno, you have to make your syrup. Two parts sugar to one part water, and depending on how many people you're planning on serving, adjust accordingly. Stick that puppy on a stove top and give it a good stir until all the sugar has dissolved and you've got, well, syrup. It keeps in the fridge, so don't be afraid of making too much.

Next, yank a bunch of mint leaves off your stalk, wash them well and shake off the excess water. Drop 'em in the bottom of your tins, (you know, the shaker thingy). Measure 3/4 oz of your Demerara syrup in your jigger (excuse me?) and pour it in. Don't worry if all of it doesn't go in. You'll be pouring in lime juice next so it will get the rest of it out. Now. This step is very important. At this point all you've got is mint leaves and syrup in the bottom of your tins. You need to muddle the mint leaves so as to bring out the peppermint oils and infuse the syrup with the flavor of the mint. I said muddle not crush into oblivion. So. Take your muddler and gently, but firmly, press down on the mint leaves. There. Now you've done it. Next, measure 3/4 oz of lime juice in your jigger (say what?) and pour that into the tins. See? Got all the leftover syrup. Then measure 2 oz of rum in your jigger (who dat?) and pour that sucker in. Now, close up your tins and shake the ever-living life out of that thing. You should feel it in your triceps. If you don't break a sweat, you're not doing it right. You're basically trying to incorporate everything into one delicious, inseparable liquid--like pouring two cylinders of sand into a box during a wedding ceremony. Except not. So, then, you grab your Collin's glass with your swizzle stick at the ready, pour in the drink from the tins, making sure to get all that delicious mint out, fill that glass up a little over halfway with ice, stick your swizzle stick down in the ice (pardon me?) and quickly rotate it between the heels of your hands until a frost forms on the outside of the glass. Once you're there, now you've REALLY done it. Add more ice to the top of the drink, three or four dashes of Angostura bitters, a sprig of mint and a sexy black straw and you are good to go. Seems complicated? Do it a few times and you'll be taking orders in no time. Or getting mentioned in the New York Times. Ahem, Noah, ahem.

Here's mine. Disclaimer: this was probably the second one I've ever made, it was not in the proper receptacle, and the straws were more like Coca-cola-in-a-glass-bottle straws instead of swanky-NYC-bar straws. Oh. freakin'. well. It was still delicious.

The Saturday Morning Post

This whole week went by without me writing so much as a single, durn thing. Sorry 'bout that. Trust me though, you probably wouldn't have wanted to read about it anyway. Booooooo-riiiiiing. Yes. Except 24 on Monday night. OHMYGOSH. And that's all I'll say.

This week, Andrew had to get all shot up for his stint in Haiti this summer--oh, yeah. I forgot to tell you. Andrew's going to Haiti this summer with Water Missions International--


WMI - Haiti from Water Missions.

saving the world one cool drink of water at a time. Anyway, he had to go to the clinic and receive no less than five shots, three in one arm, two in the other: Hepatitis A, Typhoid, Diphtheria Tetanus & Pertussis (DTap), seasonal flu, and H1N1. And we're probably lookin' at Malaria meds and maybe some "just in case" antibiotics--just "get the prescription filled and take it with you in case you get sick" kind of meds. (DO NOT EVER TAKE ANTIBIOTICS UNLESS YOU HAVE PROOF POSITIVE THAT YOU NEED THEM. ALWAYS ASK THE DOCTOR FOR A CULTURE BEFORE TAKING ANTIBIOTICS. If you do not indeed have a bacterial infection and you do take antibiotics, you will just be aiding and abetting "super bugs" and drug-resistant bacteria for future generations.) Ahem. And that's my RN soap box for the day. Anyway. The nurse who administered the vaccines gave Andrew one giant band-aid for each injection. Thus he proudly displayed his bandaged arms for two days. And like any good wife would, I forced him to pose for a picture. :)

In other news, I went to a jewelry party at my dear friend Abby's house on Thursday. Her mom makes amazing jewelry out of clay--I know, you're thinking, "clay? wouldn't that be heavy and clunky?"--it's not. It's beautiful and delicate and unique. Anyhow, Abby's house got burgled on Tuesday night, bringing back some memories from the ol' college days at the Ridge. Laptop lifting walk-through, anyone?? Word to the wise. When you're not at home, hide your laptop. Shove it under the couch, the bed--anywhere it's not in sight. You and your lifetime's stash of pictures will thank me later. Anyway, Abby made a slew of delicious dips and hors d'oeuvres--including Pioneer Woman's Bacon Wrapped Jalapeno Thingies--her name, not mine. ;)

Photograph from PW. Delectable, finger-lickin' recipe found here.
Any they were good. Really good.

Last night we had ourselves a little mini date--and quite fittingly went to see Tina Fey and Steve Carell in Date Night.

It was seriously hilarious. I had a laughter induced headache when we left. I'm not kidding. I took two Ibuprofen. The plot is kind of so-so, honestly, but they did a lot of improvisation, which you know Steve and Tina are just sooooo good at! It was worth the out-takes in the credits alone! Watch the trailor here. And go see it.

As Porky would say: Abadee, abadee, abadee--That's all folks!

I spend time in the gym so I can eat food like this

Strawberry cobbler from PW. You heard me. Strawberry.

Date night self timer attempt #1. We were a little off.

and #2. I like to call our outfits "The Farmer in the Dell". Did you know--a dell, by definition, is a "small wooded valley"? What is that song about anyway? Hi-ho the derry-o? What the heck? Just please go read it. I think my favorite line is, "The cheese stands alone". Definitely.

Anyway, I know I always post pictures of ooey-gooey deliciously sinful and decadent food on here--but we don't eat like that all the time, I promise. It's just that grilled chicken and vegetables aren't really worth rooting through my purse for my camera. And I think you've all seen that familiar plate before. Just close your eyes and imagine. The night we made the cobbler we also made jerk chicken shish kebabs on the barbie--and they were so good and healthy. Yum. The night before that however--for our date--we went to the Cheesecake Factory. And we did have cheesecake. And it was really, really good. Then we went to Barnes and Noble for like four hours. Heaven, I'm in heaven!

Later, alligators!

House on fire!

Did anyone else play that ice-breaker game in high school youth group?? No? Mmkay.

Well, yesterday afternoon I gave my first and best effort at creating Pioneer Woman's homemade pizza. And I did. And it was amazing. And we have left overs. Muahahahaha!! But I also almost watched all of our worldly possessions go up in flames. You see, the oven had to be set to 500 degrees. That's the last degree setting until "broil". Pioneer Woman, while seemingly innocent and kind, did not put a warning at the bottom about cooking pizza in a ghetto oven. If it had been my cook book it would have read something like this:

WARNING: If you live in the ghetto, have ghetto neighbors, went to a ghetto high school, have ever been told you are the lucky owner of a ghetto booty, have ever owned a ghetto vehicle, have ever hummed Elvis Presley's "In the Ghetto", or have a ghetto oven: do NOT attempt this pizza. I repeat, do NOT attempt this pizza.

Well, there was no warning. So I proceeded sans caution to make a lovely, gourmet, tomato-basil pizza, and then a subsequent pepperoni and turkey sausage pizza for my manly hubster who cannot survive on greens alone. See, one of the first steps in assembling the pizza is to drizzle the pan with olive oil and then spread out your pizza dough. So, I drizzled. *Note: I think the key here was that PW used rimmed baking sheets. I do not have rims. I wish I did, because that would probably complete my ghetto lifestyle. Heh heh.* Anyway. I drizzled. And I spread out the pizza dough and topped it with pesto, real mozzarella, roma tomatoes, and a sprinkling of parmesan. And then I stuck it in the fiery furnace, alongside Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. And behold, it did not catch on fire...immediately. About eight minutes into the baking time, I turned on the oven light to see the deliciousness that was filling my apartment with a dizzying aroma of goodness, only to see olive oil pooling at the corner and then dripping off onto the blazing hot element in the bottom of the oven. And then, the flames. Thank goodness, however, that by the time I shrieked, "ohmygosh, it's on fire!!" the flames were gone. But where there's fire, there's smoke ('er, something...), and our apartment was literally filled with hazy smoke--as if pollen wasn't enough--even more so than when I burned the pork chops or the meatloaf, (I'm a good cook, I sw'ar). We, (and by that I mean "I"), set off both fire alarms--twice. I had only cooked the first pizza when the flames popped up, but we powered through, baking soda on hand, to cook the second one and they both turned out delicious, amazing, party-in-your-mouth good. So. P-Dub, thanks for the recipe. But next time, a heads up about cooking in ghetto ovens might be nice. I still love ya (and your recipes) more'n my luggage, though!

Tomato-Basil pizza. Recipe from The Pioneer Woman Cooks.

This soup is soup-er good

Heh, heh. Ha, ha. Ho. Ha, ha. Clever, I know. This delectable "Lentil and Bulgur Soup" is featured in this month's Martha Stewart Living. I've already mentioned this issue in a previous post: trust me, it's that good. Anyway, this soup is easy, cheap, nutritious, and tasty. You can't beat that. If you've never tried lentils or bulgur wheat, I'm telling you--you can't mess it up. It's yummy. Sorry the photograph is terrible. I had no natural light, throw me a bone.

Here's the recipe:

2 tablespoons-ish olive oil

1 or 2 medium carrots, finely chopped

1 or 2 celery stalks, finely chopped

1 shallot, thinly sliced

6 cups high quality H-2-O

1 cup green or brown lentils, "rinsed and picked over" (whatever that means...I just tossed 'em in the pan. Na-na-na-boo-boo.)

1/2 cup bulgur wheat (don't be afraid!)

Optional: 2 to 3 tablespoons red-wine vinegar for drizzling (meh, kind of a money waster)

Salt and pepper to taste

1. Heat oil in a medium pot over medium heat. Saute carrot, celery, and shallot until tender--approximately six minutes. Add water and lentils, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, partially covered for about 20 minutes or until lentils are tender.

2. Stir in bulgur. Cook, partially covered, until bulgur is tender but still a bit chewy--approximately five minutes.

3. Season with salt and pepper. Optional: drizzle with vinegar and/or more olive oil to taste.

That's it and that's all! Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Bon appetit!

The mash up

I've got about a billion things to write about. Let me give you an outline.


1. Armstrongs came to visit
--A. Valentine's Day
2. Shake n' BAKE
--A. Cowboy Cookies
3. The Olympics
--A. The travel bug

4. Going Green

--A. Seventh Generation/Martha Stewart Clean

5. Bing, bang wala-wala bing bang.

1. This past weekend the Armstrongs made the journey from Hendersonville to the Triangle, braving the sleet and snow, to visit us at our humble abode they helped us move into more than six months ago. Has is really been that long?? Sheesh. Not much has changed, however, other than my ever-changing switcheroos of plants, lamps, candles and other mobile decorative items. 'ey, lay off me, I like to change things up. ;) We went to the Barbecue Joint for supper with Beckie and Collin and surprise guests Graham, Joanna, and Price, after stuffing Graham and Joanna's moving truck and cars full of every last possession in their Durham apartment. We bade the Ashes 'adieu' and sent them on their way as a light snow began to dust our surroundings for the millionth time this winter. That evening, we watched Canada, with glowing hearts, welcome the rest of the world into its country for the 2010 Winter Olympic games. On Saturday, with Mike in from a business trip, we went to Big Ed's and met the Edmondsons for breakfast. After that we went to the mall where I found the best pair of interview pants in the world. (I think I'm going to get the job with these puppies on.) We went back to our apartment and decided to have what Beckie dubbed a "fitness event". Basically, we channelled the Coopers and all went to the gym to work up a sweat before relaxing the evening away with lasagna, blackberry cobbler and the women's moguls. After church and lunch at Pei Wei on Sunday morning, we said our good-byes. Until next time!

A. Isn't he just wonderful?!?! A man who brings flowers home the Friday before Valentine's Day. A rare gem.

2. Shake n' BAKE: no, these are not shake n' bake, break n' bake, boxed n' baked or any other kind of pre-made cookie. These. are home-made. They're called Cowboy Cookies and came to me via a redheaded nursing school friend of mine, Betsy. These are a belated birthday gift, but I'm 99% sure the recipient is not reading this blog, so it's okay that I've just blurted that out. These particular cookies have oats, chocolate chips, craisins, and pecans in them, but the original recipe calls for oats, chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, raisins and pecans. Basically, you make an oatmeal cookie and then add whatever you want to it that sounds yummy, hearty, and cowboy-ish.

Here's the recipe:

MIX: 1 cup white sugar (or Splenda), 1 cup brown sugar, 2 sticks butter, 1 teaspoon vanilla extract.

ADD 2 eggs to the above mixture.

IN A SEPARATE BOWL sift together 1 teaspoon baking soda, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 2 cups flour, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder. ADD to sugar/butter/egg mixture.

ADD 2 cups oats, 1 pack (12oz) semisweet chocolate chips, 1 cup raisins, 1 cup butterscotch chips, 1 small bag chopped pecans.

BAKE at 350 degrees on greased baking sheet for 8-9 minutes. Allow to cool for a few minutes before transferring to cooling rack (otherwise they are so soft and gooey that they will fall apart!)

There you have it. BRIEF ASIDE...The above recipe yields a TON of cookies--great for a bake sale, party, weekend camping trip with friends, etc. In the batch I just whipped up, I only made a half recipe and it gave me about 2 1/2 dozen big cookies. So, adjust accordingly.

ALSO--Once you've added the oats, the amounts and ingredients are basically up to you. Don't like raisins? Leave 'em out. Love white chocolate? Add some creamy chips to the mix. Rather have walnuts than pecans? Go for it. I will say, the original recipe also calls for 12oz of butterscotch chips (as in, equal amounts chocolate and butterscotch) and I found it to overwhelm the other flavors so I only added a cup. Play around with it! Just make sure you keep in mind your favorite cowboy as you lick the spoon or drop the dough onto the baking sheet. :)

PS: I definitely did not sample one of these hot and fresh out of the oven. And it was not very good. Which is why I'm not sad at all that we are sending them to someone else. Not at all.

3. The Olympics. Other than the amazing feats of athleticism, this years Olympic games make me want to go on a second honeymoon. To CANADA!!! Again. For those of you who don't know, Andrew and I were this close to going to Banff in British Columbia, but instead went to Nova Scotia and New Brunswick on our week-long trip as newlyweds. The trip was amazing, but the beautiful vistas and snowy mountain tops on the TV are seriously giving us the travel itch. And, boy, do we want to scratch it.

4. Going green. So. I don't know if my proximity to Carrboro, my composting mother, or my California residing sibling is to blame for this, but I've decided to systematically, well, go green, for lack of a better term. No, I'm not going to stop shaving my armpits and exist on tofu and soybeans, but my first step towards assimilation into this emerald tinted life is to phase out my usual household cleaners and opt for more environmentally and well, human life friendly organic cleaners. So far, I've purchased Seventh Generation all-purpose wipes (the fume-free version of Clorox wipes), and Seventh Generation all-purpose cleaner (for more stubborn spots and stains in the bathroom and kitchen). I want to check out Martha Stewart Clean, too, (y'all know how much I love Martha!), but they only sell them at Home Depot and I just don't really go by there very often. But anyway, instead of taking all of our "old" cleaners to the hazardous waste drop-off, we've decided to use 'em up and then make a clean break towards a safer and healthier and cleaner home. Orrrrr, as soon as we can afford it, I will be taking them to the hazardous waste drop-off and totally switching. Basically, we've got no reason not to, and too many reasons to make the switch. I mean, why not? The prices are basically the same as other name-brand cleaners, and they are not every day purchases, so it's an easy switch. It's step one, really. In ten years, though, if I'm eating granola out of my pockets, wearing Birkenstocks and socks, and living in a cave, please, please stage an intervention. I will thank you kindly.

The wala-wala bing bang was just filler. Ta-ta!

She's got ruby red lips, blonde hair blue eyes, Lord I'm about to bid my heart good-byeeeeee

Law, it's been a month of Sunday's since my last post! Not really, it's just been a week. But, it's been a busy week! Sheesh! Let's see. I don't even know where to start. Today's Wednesday...Hm. Well, Friday I think we stayed home and hung out with each other. Cuz we're cool like that. But, Saturday--Saturday is the reason John Michael Montgomery's lyrics are titling this blog post. Saturday morning I was supposed to go to Ashleigh's wedding shower in Greenville, but the weather was freakin' out again--as it is in the habit of doing, as of late--so I ended up staying home. So, Saturday evening, we went to The Engineers Without Borders Symposium banquet, complete with cocktail attire, a silent auction, a live auction, a bonafide auctioneer, and tiny, unidentifiable hors d'oeuvres. The auction and dinner was obviously to raise money for EWB and to honor those individuals that have put their blood, sweat and tears into making EWB a success. Tables and tables of beautiful crafts and other items from all over the world were auctioned off, and also gift certificates and vouchers from local businesses. It was great to see all the nerds let loose without their lab coats and calculators, too. They just work too hard! ;) Anyway, the auctioneer's name was Charley. And he was very. serious. about. auctions. Very. The auction went something like this:

Well, folks we have here a one of a kind autographed basketball by Roy Williams and the entire UNC basketball team. Come on, don't pause--it's for a good cause!

Let's start at fiddy. Wouldja bid fiddy? Fiddy wouldja bid? Fiddy dollars up in the front--thanky, sir--Wouldja bid one hunert? Woulja bid one-hunert? one-hunert, one hunert, one hunert? Ma'am in the back--thanky ma'am! Wouldja bid one-fiddy? Wouldja bid one-fiddy? One-fiddy, one-fiddy, one-fiddy--it's for a good cause--one-fiddy, one--thanky sir! Wouldja give two-hunert, wouldja bid two hunert?...Alright, one-fiddy going once, one-fiddy going twice--SOLD! to the gentleman in the yellow bowtie!

And so on. And every time he said one-fiddy or whatever number, he would bounce on his toes in rhythm with the bidding. It was quite a sight. We didn't bid on anything because we're obviously in a more frugal season of life right now, but I just really wanted one of those ping-pong paddles with the numbers on it. Shucks.

So, Sunday was the SUPER BOWLLLL--Geaux Saints! I'm so glad they won. They deserved it. Sorry, Kelly. Sorry, Peyton. Better luck next time. I got into a cooking tizzy and decided to make meatballs and mocha silk pie--both from the P-Dub. She gots it right. I'm telling you, this pie is like WOAH. But here's my version:

The garnish: chopped baker's chocolate. Don't you just love it?! The paper and the stamp on the top makes it feel ol' fashioned to me. And there's my little piggy cutting board that my pops made. A little personality and just right for chopping veggies, fruit--and chocolate.

The crust: chopped pecans, chopped bakers chocolate, brown sugar, vanilla, instant coffee--and a little bit of maaaagic. Mmmm.


Our delicious super bowl meatball subs: with a little cheese, please!

So, there you have it. The last few days I've been babysitting precious little Elise and Will while Nanny Nancy has her baby. Love those kiddos. And Kelly was right. Your luck can change in Candy Land in the blink of an eye--and you'll find yourself canoodling in the Chocolate Swamp while the three year old next to you is frolicking in the Candy Kingdom at the finish line. Such is life. I hope my kids are as bright and energetic as they are some day. (I said, some day. Meaning, a far, far away day in the distant future....riiiight?? Right. Right? Riiiight.)

In other news, I shadowed on the Surgical ICU at UNC Hospital yesterday morning. I know--shadowed. Like I don't know what it's like to be a nurse in a hospital. BUT, it was good to finally go in UNC and see what it's like and get to know some people, aka The Management. I can has a job? Pretty please?? So, anyway, things are in the works and I can feel the Lord oiling the rusty joints on this thing, setting things in motion. And I am thankful. Thankful that God is in control, and not me. Because if I was in control, I might have lost it a long time ago.

So, tonight we've got ignite group, tomorrow hopefully hanging out with Graham and Joanna before they head on to Iowa (gulp. Sad day!), and then the in-laws are a-comin' to town this weekend. Should be a bang up time.

Until then, adios amigos!

Just say no. To snow.

I gotta be real for just a second. The snow was awesome the first day. Still very pretty the second day, even though it cancelled our church meeting. But today, it's annoying. And helloooo road worker people--you can't just scrape the interstates and not the roads that lead to the interstates. That's just all around bad form. Good thing Stella is a beast and we made it to and from the grocery store without incident today. Granted, I was going approximately seven and a half miles an hour, much to the chagrin of the fancy pants Lexus behind me. Hold your horses, lady. I didn't back my seat up four inches to prevent major facial damage from my airbag in the event of a slip n' slide just to have you ride my tail like you've got somewhere to be. Chiiill, Winston. (Name that movie!) Anyway, before the driving in slush adventure, I had to make like a Yankee and scrape the glacier off my car. With one, little, half broken ice scraper. I had to get it off the front windshield (obviously to see where I'm going) and the back windshield to see where I've been. JK--heh-heh, no-- I had to back out of my precariously tight parking space between two gas guzzlin' SUVs. [Gulp]. One little fish-tail to either side and the owner of the white Tahoe or the red Expedition was going to have a nice new dent. Whoops. Not my fault? Annnnyway, I wish I had taken a picture of the continental shelf that was melting ever-so-slightly atop my vehicle. It would have lent to a more humorous mental picture of MaryGene's Snow Demolition Project 2010. Basically, the snow on the top was a little melted and stuck together so I could chisel out large pieces, (much like the breaking off of our glaciers and polar ice caps), and push them off of the edge of the car, but the snow underneath was still powdery so I had to methodically scrape the second layer of powder off without getting it all over myself. Which did not work. Passersby probably thought I was playing in the snow instead of trying to get into my car. Fail. All in all it took about 30 minutes which was way too long in my book. But Rome wasn't built in a day (or was it?) and you can't snap your fingers after a snow day and summon Spring at a moment's notice.

Too bad you can't. I'm ready for fresh flowers on the table, sandals and toe nail polish, and having a low/no heating/air conditioning bill. I always do this, though: get a hankering for the next season when we're still in the middle of the current season. In an effort to speed things up, I painted my nails ElePhantastic Pink yesterday (thanks, Lauren!). I don't think it's working. Shucks. Sorry, Mother Nature. Didn't mean to rush you.

Tonight, we're having Pioneer Woman's Cajun Chicken Pasta. Go ahead. Be jealous. Or come to dinner. Either one.

Love ya! ;)

Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow

It started last night around six o'clock and hasn't stopped. The ground is blanketed with a crystal, powdery, bright white layer of gorgeous snow--and we've no place to go and no place to be. Andrew's been strumming out Coldplay's Strawberry Swing on our six string and I've just finished cleaning up from a Jack Johnson-esque breakfast of banana pancakes. There's a red bird that has been fluttering around the courtyard for the last hour that looks postcard picture perfect in the evergreen trees against the crisp snow. If I thought I could capture it on camera, I might venture outside but the wind and the part snow/part sleet combination is pressing me back into the couch, so here I must stay. Who'd a thunk it, snow--and it's not even Christmas! Left me totally nonplussed.

Last night, however, we did venture out in the snow--rather, we were out and the snow started falling. We went to dinner and literally drove right into the storm. By the time we came out of the restaurant, there was at least an inch covering the truck already. When we got home we did what you always do when it snows: make snow cream! drink hot chocolate! watch a movie! Which, btw--we watched Pixar's Up and it was soooo cuuuuute!! If you haven't seen it, do. I laughed and cried. And it was a cartoon. So, see it! Anyway, snow cream. There are multiple recipes out there and I think you could probably think about what's in real ice cream and make up your own recipe. We just used what we had in the house, which was milk, sugar, and vanilla extract. And of course, fresh pow-pow. ;)

1 cup milk

1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Mix 'em all up, then pour it over at least 3 quarts of snow (taste it and adjust accordingly), stirring to mix until it's an ice cream/shaved ice consistency. A sweet, scandalous treat! Annnd for lack of refrigerator space, just stick it on the back porch to keep cold.

The courtyard this morning: simply lovely.

Anyway, we also had a couch monkey last night, a young gentleman afraid the snow would keep him from calling on his love this Saturday morn, since he lives over the river and through the woods and we live a stone's throw from his fair maiden. We didn't reaaaally think it would be a problem to drive, but love makes one do crazy things, so we threw him a bone (and a pillow) and let him crash on the sofa.

Now. What to do, what to do. Tap-tap-tap (drumming fingers on the keys). Probably a nap. And/or a book. And/or a pot of tea. {sigh} I just love snow days!