Girls Gone Wild!

I love my girls. I need to preface this post with that comment. They are sweet and full of life. The downside. They have more hormonal issues than boys!! My mother did not tell me that I would have to relive pre-pubescent hormonal angst. I thought once you went through it, that was just another dim spot in the deep recesses of your mind. Those days are rehashed when you are drunk and angry.

My girls are becoming more aware of the opposite sex. I thought all this started much later in life. After all, when I was nine, the only boy I loved was Captain America. At the time I wasn't fully aware that he wasn't my type. As I grew a little older Simon Le Bon was my choice. He was going to glance at me among millions of people at a concert and fall in love (braces, bad hair and all). I digress, my angst is the stuff of a book or an Oprah show.

So we go with friends to Disney this weekend. Their in-laws come also. My girls fell all over themselves because there were two boys their age in the group. They fought over seating arrangements and who was walking next to who. Snark and I were forgotten. My friends have boys so this behavior was new to them. They thought it was hysterical. I wanted to crawl into the nearest bush and hide.

What is it in their chemistry that makes little, innocent girls into hysterical divas? My older one literally pushed me to the side in her hurry to stand next to one of the boys. The reprimand fell on semi-deaf ears. The only indication she heard was an eye roll in my direction.

What?? An eye roll? What's next? Only heaven or Robert Mondavi is able to help me now.

The thought that gives me chills is if they are like this now, what is it going to be like when they are teens?

Eat Mor Chik'n

My friend S. sent this to me. I like her comment on it being a full meal with a few friends and a bottle of wine. Food always tastes better in the company of friends.


BUFFALO CHICKEN DIP

INGREDIENTS:

4 medium size chicken breasts, cooked and shredded

2 8-oz. packages of cream cheese, softened

1 cup of blue cheese dressing (can also use ranch if prefer)

3/4 cup pepper sauce (e.g. Franks Red Hot-test brand before you use and adjust accordingly; this can make or break the recipe)

1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese

DIRECTIONS:

Heat chicken and hot sauce in skillet or saucepan over medium heat until heated through. Stir in cream cheeses and blue cheese dressing. Cook, stirring until well blended and warm. Mix in half of the shredded cheese and transfer mixture to a baking dish. Sprinkle the remaining cheese over the top, and cook at 300F for 20-30 minutes until bubbly. Serve with celery sticks and Chicken in a Biscuit crackers or tortilla chips.

Serves 12-18 people (or can be full meal with a few friends and a bottle of wine.......)

Creative Clog

I have a serious malady. I can't call it "writer's block" because I'm not a writer. Snark says I'm too messy to be a writer.

"You know where the comma goes!" is the phrase often heard when he proofs my blogs. I will note that the only thing that he does is add commas. All thoughts expressed are my own and 99% is true. Some items are changed to protect the identity of my victims.

I am covering all bases here after James Frey was skewered and strung up by his toes with a heroin needle dangling in front of him as a temptation.

Good gracious, doesn't anybody know that you can Google everyone on the internet. If you have a modicum of fame you had better bribe everyone in your past heavily or tell the truth. Because it will come out. Every dirty detail.. That is why I only gave fake names to everyone way back when.

I feel no sympathy for Frey because he's loaded now. I feel bad for his mom and dad. Because you know when they go over to a friend's houses everyone is silent and trying not mention lying,embellishment,or fiction. My only concern is that he'll fall off the wagon and one day I'll see him on The Smoking Gun's mugshot page. But hey, look at it this way. People love celebrity jail-birds. Look at the NBA. It's filled with them.

Anyway, back to my clog. I think after this post it's going away. Who knew Jim Frey's debacle was my Drano.

Chilly Chili

So it's cold out. Well for us it's cold. Around 65 during the day and 40's at night. Sometimes it's hard to make winter food when it's warm in February, but last night warranted this dish.

1 lb ground beef (I use sirloin)
1 onion coarsely chopped
2 TB chili powder
1 1/2 tsp cumin
1 tsp dried oregano
1 can(28 oz) whole tomatoes chopped with juice
1 cinnamon stick
2 bay leaves
1 can any bean, drained and rinsed
8 oz salsa

Add 1 TB oil to dutch oven(with lid), heat pan on med-high and saute onion till golden(about 15 min) Add beef and cook till no longer pink. Stir in chili powder,cumin, oregano, tomatoes with juice,cinnamon stick, bay leaves, salsa and beans with 2 cups water. Bring to boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Cover and simmer for 1 hr.

Garnish with chopped red onion, sour cream, jalapenos and cheese.

Food Glorious Food!!

I love to eat. Everything about food excites me. I hesitate to say it is a passion, obssession whatever trite definition you can tack on it. It is all-encompassing. It has been a part of my Kleenex moments in life. It has even over-shadowed a few. Cases in point:

We were in London and I was giddy at having reservations at Bibendum, which at the time was "it". I was busy planning my eating that evening I didn't notice Snark professing undying love and waving a big engagement ring in my face. See what I mean.

I knew he was my soul mate because, as a wedding present, he took me to three of Conde Naste's top restaurants in the world.

I made sure every plate of food at my reception was hot. I know because I went around asking. Snark made sure the booze did not run out.

My fondest memories of food involve my family. We would sit around my grandmother's dining room table and be served platters of food. There is nothing better than the food I grew up on. Biryanis redolent with lamb and mint, fish pie, marrow (It is in now, but I was gnawing on the marrow bone as long as I can remember. SO HA!), cool yogurt with little pieces of fried potato and the peppery bite of cilantro, meat fry or crispy shrimp that was stir-fried with chilies. For dessert a trifle with gobs of heavy cream and custard, creme caramel with all the kids fighting over the caramelized bit on top, or if the cook was in the mood, we would have home-made rum-raisin ice cream.

We would be there for hours and then retire to the veranda. The adults would wander to the garden to smoke and have an after dinner drink while we ran around till the mosquitoes were unbearable.

I have thought of my last meal. It would be lime rice and shrimp fry. That is comfort food to a girl that has the heart of an Indian but grew up American.

My mother was a great cook. I say "was" not because she has passed but because she has stopped cooking. Any woman who had cooks and never stepped in the kitchen until she moved to this country has to have the ability to cook, in the genes. After all, she is her mother's daughter. My grandmother is a phenomenal cook. She throws things together, and it turns out perfect. She came to visit last year, and Snark gnashed his teeth and wept the day she left.

I didn't step foot into a kitchen until I married. My mother thought he would give me back when he found out I didn't know how to microwave. The first meal I served was Stouffers cabbage rolls. Not a bad meal ... if they had been cooked through. Fortunately, I redeemed myself and have turned into a passably good cook, but I would rather eat.

I moved from a state where food and family go hand in hand. There is nothing like hanging out before a Mardi Gras parade eating your friend's white beans, her brother-in-law's jambalaya and sucking down a cold beer before you go shake it for beads. I, however, shake it for a few minutes then sneak back to the food table for dessert.

My children are developing certain tastes. They are typical children. They like bland, bland, bland. But there is a little chink. They love chicken curry and slurp up that delectable Vietnamese soup Pho. I didn't know whether to be angry or proud when my daughter declared to my friend that she only likes her dad's homemade pizza, shunning the Freschetta that my friend had baked.

I pretend that I don't care about what we eat when I got out. But it is a sham. I care deeply. I don't want mediocre. I want something that soothes my soul and satisfies me. To me food is the central part of my life.

Bacon with Asparagus filling

1 pound asparagus (about 19 stalks), trimmed
1 tablespoon olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 to 8 paper-thin slices prosciutto/bacon, halved lengthwise

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

Snap the dry stem ends off of each asparagus and place on a heavy baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and toss. Roast until the asparagus is tender, about 15 minutes. Cool completely.

Wrap each asparagus with 1 piece (about 1/2 a slice) of prosciutto, exposing tips. Arrange on a platter and serve at room temperatur