Masquerading as a normal person day after day is exhausting

Even though I just ate dinner, I'm still thinking about food.

I love to eat. Seriously, there is never a time when I don't want to eat something. Even when I feel a little queasy I find myself thinking, "well, one of those awesome ginger chews would be good, or maybe some of those salty little crackers from Trader Joe's." 

What I don't love? Having to cook everything I eat. Shhhh... this is kind of a dirty little secret because you all, I belong to a supper club, one where the whole purpose is to cook (okay, MOST of the purpose; there's a lot of drinking, too). 

Yes, I like to cook. I even like to bake. But you know what? I'm la.ZEE. Cooking takes effort: I have to figure out what I want, then I have to go to the store, then I have to MAKE it, and worst of all, I have to clean up after it.  

For a good long while this summer and early fall, I completely lost my cooking mojo. We ate out entirely too much, and I'm pretty sure I'm fiscally responsible for a pretty new addition on to Trader Joe's beach house because lordy, we ate a lot of orange chicken and fish sticks and pork carnitas that the man lovingly prepared and froze for us.

I think my mojo might be back from its backpacking trip across Europe. Over the last few weeks I've had the urge to cook, and not just simple stuff. It started with the sweet potato gnocchi with fried sage and shaved chestnuts, then moved on to a pork roast with apricot shallot stuffing. FYI: There is something both horrifying and amusing about making a meat pocket. 

We tried a lime and honey glazed salmon with broccolini (and this is where I discovered that I intensely dislike broccoli rabe). And tonight I went all kinds of crazy and made individual chicken pot pies with chanterelles. Yum. How can you go wrong with puff pastry on anything? 

However, I think my favorite new recipe this month has been the cinnamon crumble apple pie. A bold statement for a confirmed chocoholic...

A bit of backstory: My kid told me she'd never had an apple pie. "How is that possible?" I wondered. "What kind of parent lets her kid live for 8 years without tasting apple pie?" Answer: A lazy parent. I used to make pies all the time, and then just fell out of the habit. Clearly, I needed to rectify the situation. A quick peek in the fridge revealed a glut of apples, and we had a whole Friday afternoon stretching out ahead of us. A little date with Mr. Google and I had a recipe in hand. When I saw how much sugar and cinnamon and BUTTER was in this recipe I figured there was no way it could be bad. Melted butter to toss with the apples? Check. Tons more to cut into the cinnamon crumb topping? Yep, got that too. That pie was amazing, and even more so warm with a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream. I'm currently wearing Slices 3 and 4 on my hips right now, but it was worth it. 

I still have a bug bite the size of Kansas on my elbow. But, at least there was sun today...

Man, I love a place where you can order a Goombay Smash (rum, more rum, and possibly a little bit of Goombay Punch), pop it in the cup holder of your golf cart, and motor back to your beach house. Of course, the speed lumps (as Miss O calls them) make it difficult to arrive with as much Goombay Smash as you left with, but some is definitely better than none. The suspension and shock absorbers in a golf cart? Nonexistent.

Today was actually sunny - I was beginning to fear that we'd spend the whole week without sun. We started the morning with coffee at Romora Bay, sitting on the patio overlooking the dock. Proof that Starbucks is taking over the world: this tiny island has a Starbucks in one of the resorts. God help you if you need a bank or a doctor, but you'll have no problem assuaging your caffeine fix...

We spent the rest of the morning at the beach. Olivia dug another hole that must have reached somewhere near China - it was so deep she could stand in it. You cannot even imagine the sand that I found inside her bathing suit when we came home...

I wanted conch salad for lunch today, but in true Bahamian fashion, the awesomest place was randomly closed today. "Queen Conch will be closed Tuesday and Wednesday" read the hand-scrawled note on the shack. I made do with a little peas 'n rice from another place, but I'm fully planning my Thursday lunch already.

After lunch we headed to the north end of the island to do a little horseback riding on the beach. You have never felt chafing til you've ridden a horse with a primitive saddle and scratchy blanket while your own legs were coated in sand. Owie. Since Miss O was too small to control her own horse, Robert had us ride together. Since the only thing holding her on that horse was me, I had to keep him from doing a full-out gallop down the beach because I feel sure that Miss O would have freaked right out. And probably with good reason... When we got back, we had perhaps the single most ungraceful dismount in the history of dismounts. I am NOT kidding. Clearly, she should have gotten off first, but she didn't and I tried (stupidly) to get off. I sort of slid in the sloooowest slow motion ever off the horse, taking her with me. Sweet Fancy Moses, the embarrassment. Luckily we landed in the soft sand, and the only thing bruised was my ego. I'm sure Robert and the rest of the people on the beach will be laughing about that for a while. *sigh*

More beach in the late afternoon, then a so-so dinner at another place on the bay side of the island. The best part of the dinner was listening to the group of women behind us. They were, no kidding, like Blair Waldorf All Grown Up. At least one of them owns a house on the island and they've been coming here for forever (they were not much older than me) and they were just so... I dunno. Entitled? Condescending? Whatever it was, it was fascinating. Could not stop listening.

We took a little post-prandial stroll on the part that Miss O calls Shell Beach (there are basically no shells on the beach side of the island, but you can find some on the bay side), then I convinced her to head over to Romora Bay for sunset. The sun sinks amazingly fast - who knew it could move that quickly? Miss O tormented the resident macaw, I ordered us milk (Miss O) and Goombay Smash (me) to go, and we headed home for checkers on the front porch. How 1950s of us (well, minus the rum drink, I guess).

Random aside: I have to confess that it's completely disconcerting to go through life never knowing what time it is. There are no clocks anywhere that I've seen, and since I don't have cell service, I don't carry my Blackberry with me. I never know what time it is; this is in stark contrast to Regular Life, when I know exactly what time it is (to the minute) all day, every day. Truthfully, it's making me twitch just a little bit. Need to stifle that Inner OCD with a little more rum, perhaps...

Things that rock: my kid, and Soba

Miss O rocked her first set of standardized tests. We got the scores last week and I was very proud of her. Actually, I was proud of the entire second grade - their scores put them at a 6th-grade equivalency level across the board. That? Astounds me. 

Honestly, I wasn't sure what to expect from her scores. I know she's a smart kid, but I also know that she's an anxious kid and a bit of a dawdler. A few weeks before the tests her teacher approached me. "I'm a little worried about Miss O' - she seems nervous about the tests, and she also has a hard time doing her work quickly." Definitely not a good combination for a timed standardized test...

I talked up the whole testing thing for the next week or two, which was completely easy to do because I was a total nerd and  LOVED standardized tests when I was in school - it wasn't until the GREs that I started twitching at the thought of filling in little ovals with a #2 pencil. At the same time, her teacher talked them up, too, offering a bit of SWAG to sweeten the deal. "Mama! Ms. S. said we get our own water botttles during the tests! AND we get special snacks during the tests!"

The first day of the testing her own little Inner Nerd shone through. "Mama, I am so excited about the tests I could just SCREAM!" she squee'ed on her way out the door. 

That's my girl. :-)

We have a tradition in our house: when Miss O gets good grades, she gets to pick a place to have dinner. Sometimes that backfires and we end up eating at Max & Erma's, but lately she's been on a  Soba kick. How much do I love that kid?  Mama gets a lovely cocktail and lobster maki while the kid gets her beloved avocado maki and spicy cucumber salad. Win-win, that situation.

Also, how much do I love the servers at Soba? We didn't have our usual one (Bob), but he stopped by the table and asked whether Miss O got good grades again and then made her blush when he thanked her for coming to see him. Our actual server saw us toasting Miss O, asked what we were celebrating, then brought her dessert out with a candle in it to congratulate her. Those two small touches were very much appreciated, and I sent off a quick note to Soba to let them know. Yo, other Pittsburgh restaurants: you might want to take note. Have your servers treat guests nicely, and your guests will return again and again. Simple equation, but altogether too elusive for so many places in this city.  

In which I ask, "WHY?!"

I've come across two things in the last day that have just left me asking "WHY for the love of all that is sweet and good..." My eyebrows, they might still be up near my scalp.

Thing the first: Poop candy
As I was perusing the CDC's giant OMG Don't Eat These Items Because They Might Have Salmonella list, I noticed something... odd.

There are apparently large numbers of people who satisfy their sugar fixes with a bit of scatalogical sweetness.  Seriously, if there is an animal who poops it, there is a candy made to resemble it. Witness all the forms of poop-related candy just on that recall list:

Bear Poop
Bear Scat
Chicken Coop Poop
Cow Patties
Cow Pies
Deer Droppings
Moose Droppings
Osprey Poop
Prairie Dog Pebbles

Now, I know you're just dying to bust into some of those Prairie Dog Pebbles, but try to hold yourself back. You wouldn't want to accidentally ingest some salmonella with that scat...

Thing the second: Pigs who wear boots and hair extensions
Every now and then I take a peek at my blog stats, mostly to see what search terms bring people here. In case you wondered, there are an awful lot of people googling "snow globe cupcakes" and "oreos on cupcakes" and "owl cupcakes."

There is also at least one person who googled for an image of  "PIG WITH BOOTS AND HAIR EXTENSIONS" and was rewarded with this  picture of my mighty fine turkey cupcake:

Now, I don't know what's more disturbing: That there IS a picture of a pig wearing boots and hair extensions, that someone wanted to FIND it, or that Google equated that with my innocent little turkey cupcake.

No one here but us chicks

DH spent the weekend peering into Evgeni Malkin's locker (report: a pair of shoes and a Russian magazine that looked suspiciously like Cosmo) and doing other manly hockey things at the Pens Fantasy Camp.

Miss O and I, on the other hand,  took advantage of the opportunity for a relaxing girlie sort of weekend.

We watched some bad TV (thank you, SuperNanny, for serving as such an effective parenting tool - "If you ever acted like that, you wouldn't see the outside of our house for about 4 years...") and lazed around in our pajamas.

We fixed my Target Withdrawal (no trip since December!) with a nice long trip, most of which was spent in the Valentine candy aisles.  While there, she bought us both decaf nonfat nowhip peppermint mochas with her Starbucks gift card from Grammie and Papu. God love the genius who thought of putting a Starbucks INSIDE the Target.

We also entertained. Mandy and her daughters came over for dinner and wine on Friday night - we don't see nearly enough of them and I loved the chance to just chat.

Alison came for a sleepover on Saturday night and -- are you ready for this? -- I had them asleep by 9:30. As Miss O ages, I will sorely miss the ability to hyperbolize and spin things in my favor. "You can stay up all the way 'til 9:30 - that's a whole hour after your bedtime."  

Of course, there WAS the Great Glitter Incident of 2009 during the sleepover. It is, I admit, mostly my fault. I knew I should have been suspicious of the quiet. I could have stopped working on my lecture notes and gone to investigate. But I didn't, and the contents of a tube of nail glitter (OMG, WHY does such a thing exist?!) ended up all over the girls and the bathroom. And my socks, when I walked into said bathroom.  All three of us were sparklier than any human being has a right to be.

Five loads of laundry (and about 8 extra rinse cycles) later and I think we've gotten rid of most of it. I did catch a green sparkly flash in Miss O's part this morning, though. Man, I hate glitter.

To ease the horror, I suggested we cap off the girlie weekend with dinner out. "Where do you want to eat?" I asked Miss O. She didn't even miss a beat. "Soba," she said, definitively. She's a big fan of their avocado maki and the chocolate sushi dessert and regularly picks it as her Good Report Card destination. The kid, she has some expensive tastes...

When I made the reservation I asked to be seated with our favorite server (Bob). Love that dude. Not only is he good at his job, but he apparently has a knack for remembering people. When we sat down last night, he immediately recognized us and said to Miss O, "Hey! Did you get good grades again? Is that why you're back to see me?" She was beyond thrilled that he not only remembered her, but knew she came there last time because of her report card. He also earned serious points with her by telling her to whack the heck out of the chocolate caramel bombe we shared for dessert. "But mom, he TOLD me to really whack it hard with my fork! *whack whack thwack*" What kid doesn't love being told to smack the crap outta their food?

And now it's back to the reality of Monday. There oughtta be a law making Mondays illegal. Especially after a Sobapolitan the night before.

And one to clog the arteries

I mentioned biscuits and sausage gravy earlier today and Uncle Crappy and Robin wanted the recipe.

It came from my brother Jason (*wave!*) who makes this awesome concoction whenever we visit. And yes, this is in addition to the 87 pounds of bacon we eat when we visit. Somehow Jason's house makes me crave pork products something fierce. (Stop snickering.)

So, the recipe goes something like this:

Cook 1 pound of country sausage [we used Jimmy Dean country style 'cause that's the closest we get north of the Mason Dixon] until browned.  If you want some spice, add chili flakes when you brown the sausage.

Once the sausage is browned, add one quarter cup of flour to sausage and cook 3 to 4 minutes on medium. This cooks the floury taste out.

Cover the mixture well with milk so that you can't see the sausage - whole milk is preferred since the fat in whole milk keeps it from separating.

Add a few pinches of salt and lots of cracked pepper. Bring to a boil. It will thicken as it does so. If you need to thicken it, use Wondra. If you want to thin out the consistency a bit, then just add more milk.

If you wish to add herbs and such you can do so at the end. Seeds like fennel and such should be added while you brown the sausage.

Enjoy. And make sure to go for a run after you eat this stuff to clear out those arteries...

This is why we don't let her decorate the tree. Or really, anything.

Miss O wanted to make a gingerbread house today and conned me and her grandmother into making it happen.

When I left the kitchen to talk to DH, the house looked like this:

When I came back a few minutes later, it looked like THIS. Sweet fancy Moses, thatsalotta crap on one little gingerbread house.

   

Hey, Burgh Baby, is this enough Christmas Crazy for you?

Cookies

The Burgh Moms had a cookie exchange in November and when I tell you there were 87 thousand cookies in that very hot little room at Panera, I am not exaggerating (by much).

It was awesome to finally put faces to blogs and plurks; I'd met a few already via the last dinner at Mad Mex, but the Burgh Moms came out in full force on Saturday. Nothing like some butter and sugar and chocolate to bring everyone out on a bitter cold afternoon...

Because I have a little bit of Baking ADD (and also because I didn't have enough ingredients to make 6+ dozen of any given recipe), I made a few different kinds. The original plan was just two: cocomias and gooey butter cookies. 

Then a plurk about buckeyes happened. 

And of course I craved them and had to make them, even venturing into the seventh circle of hell (aka Giant Eagle on a snowy day a week before Thanksgiving) to score the yummy processed, sugar-laden PB I needed for them.

Cocomia cookies (coconut and macadamia)
2 cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. salt
¾ cup brown sugar, packed
½ cup white sugar
¾ cup salted butter, softened
2 large eggs
2 tsp. vanilla extract
6oz shredded, unsweetened coconut
7oz whole macadamia nuts

melted chocolate to drizzle on top

Preheat over to 300° F. In a medium bowl combine flour, soda and salt. Mix well with a wire whisk and set aside. In a large bowl blend sugars with an electric mixer at medium speed. Add butter and mix to form a grainy paste. Scrape down sides of bowl, then add eggs and vanilla. Beat at medium speed until light and fluffy. Add the flour mixture, coconut and nuts, and blend at low speed just until combined. Do not overmix. Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets, 2 inches apart. Bake for 22-24 minutes. Transfer to cool, flat surface immediately with a spatula. Drizzle with melted chocolate. These freeze really well.

Gooey butter cookies  (Disclaimer: this is the most ghetto recipe, ever - it screams 1960s. I luuurvv it.)

1/2 c butter
1 box butter-recipe yellow cake mix, or chocolate cake mix
1/4 tsp vanilla
1 egg
8 oz cream cheese
powdered sugar

(1) Beat butter, vanilla, egg, and cream cheese. (2) Add cake mix and mix well. Chill for 30 minutes.  Spray cookie sheet w/nonstick and preheat oven to 350. (3) Put powdered sugar in shallow dish; drop dough by rounded teaspoons into powdered sugar and roll into balls. Bake for 12 minutes.

Buckeyes
2 cups creamy peanut butter, (not all-natural)
1/4 cup butter or margarine, softened
16-oz.  powdered sugar
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tablespoons vegetable shortening

Line baking sheets with wax paper. Beat peanut butter and butter in large mixer bowl until creamy. Beat in powdered sugar until mixture holds together and is moistened. Shape into 1-inch balls; place on prepared baking sheets. Freeze for 1 hour.

Melt morsels and shortening, either in microwave or in double-boiler (I use the old bowl-over-pot-of-water method).  Dip peanut butter centers into melted chocolate using a toothpick, leaving a small portion of the center uncovered. Shake off excess chocolate and scrape bottom of candy on side of bowl. Return to baking sheets; refrigerate until chocolate is set. Store in covered container in refrigerator. 

L is for...

Lobsters: Lobsters crack me up. Plus, they taste good. Witness my lobster love: I dressed Miss O as a lobster for Halloween  which may have led to her own minor lobster obsession. Alas, Miss O's erstwhile lobster companion Pinchy met his end on the Eiffel Tower. Luckily for all involved, our Paris apartment had l'internet and l'internet had a replacement stuffed lobster and Miss O was young enough to believe that Pinchy mailed himself back to Pittsburgh.

Lavender: One of my favorite smells, and also oddly delicious in lemonade. 

Love Without Boundaries : A charity that does incredible work with Chinese orphans. I donate to both LWB and Half the Sky each year; it lets me feel like I'm doing something -- anything -- as we wait to bring home our own daughter from China.

Liposuction: If I could do it without pain, fear of complication, or money, I would totally have that gross belly fat sucked right out. Schluuuuurp.

Li-berry: The library (or li-berry, as our nanny called it) is my ultimate happy place - all those books! FOR FREE! My favorite is the main branch in Oakland, which is three stories of beautiful architecture, books, and the best people watching ever. People will do ANYTHING in a library. The Crazy Mocha they put in a few years back was a genius touch; now I can combine coffee and the library for utter nirvana.

Lunch: Something I love but never remember to actually eat. You'd think working from home would mean more regular lunch (hello, constant access to the kitchen) but it's been the opposite for me. I'm usually far too lazy to go make something, and it's just not as fun without Evil Coworkers to eat with.

LiveJournal: Where I've been journaling since 2003. We've got a pretty fabulous little community over there; many of us have been together since the alt.newlywed days an entire decade ago. (How's that for making a chick feel old?)

Lax: What I've been about journaling. As I've been blogging more, I've been journaling less. I need to get back in the habit of regularly posting to LJ about the daily crap that I want to write about but that doesn't belong on a [public] blog.  

Lemonade: Specifically from Chick-fil-A. Also, with dried lavender in it. Yum.

Legume bistro: One of the best restaurants in the East End. Locally sourced food, a small and always changing menu, and BYOB. Yum. The summer menus - with all the fruits and veggies - are by far my favorite.

So, that's ten L things. Surprisingly, L was much harder than I anticipated with the lovely jayesel forked it over for me.

If you want a letter, let me know. I promise not to give you an X. Or a Z. :-) 

Wordless Wednesday: Nectar of the fall gods

More on the cupcakes

And now for something completely unrelated to politics!

*   *   *   *   *

Despite my moaning over the work (and mess!) involved in making those owl cupcakes, fellow BurghMom Allison bravely made them last week. And man, did they turn out cute. I am so totally conning Allison into making these for me next time I have a hankering for a hunk of owl cupcake.

*   *   *   *   *

We had our monthly P-street craft night this week and made Larry the Turkey cupcakes from that same Hello Cupcake! book. These were infinitely easier than the owls, though maybe not as cute. (What can I say? I'm biased. Owls rock.)

These were also a little more prone to, uh, structural failure. "My turkey butt just slid right off!" and "Whoops! There went his head!" were heard more than once around the table last night as we frosted and stacked and decorated.

The book suggests using these cupcakes as place holders at the Thanksgiving table, which I think is a super cute idea if you're using an informal table setting. We went ahead and made the turkeys with their little name placards because we knew it would amuse the kids (and it amused us, if you really want the truth).

Here's my turkey family. Sorry for the badly-obscured names, but it was the best I could do in three minutes and before coffee consumption:

As you might guess, Folly's was the guinea pig cupcake. Seeing as how she's a parrot, I'm pretty sure she won't mind the crazed eyes or the cattywampus wattle. Things got a little more refined as the evening progressed...

Gobble gobble!

Bringing a little summer into things, one flaming marshmallow at a time

It's absolutely freezing here today.

The weather people are all OMG SNOW which, in Pittsburgh, means that the Giant Eagle is now completely devoid of toilet paper, milk, and bread. Who are these snow vultures, and what are they doing with all that bread, anyway? And why bread? Why not, like, canned soup? Or frozen pierogi?

As I sat here with the space heater on my feet and my nose tingling from that special coldness that comes from a hundred-year-old house with its original windows, I found this picture from the summer.

Somehow, it made me feel just a little bit warmer. And possibly a little bit hungrier. Mmmm... s'mores.

Whoooooo thought it was a good idea to buy this book, anyway? Oh right, *I* did.

Because I have a penchant for attempting projects that are (a) just as complicated as they look, and (b) guaranteed to make me feel like an abject failure when I can't do them exactly right, I was attracted to this book like a crow to a shiny quarter.

"Cupcake decorating? How hard can THAT be?  And look at those  awesome cupcakes! There are cupcakes for sleepovers and snow globe cupcakes and shark attack cupcakes and..."

Where was my inner checker and balancer when I needed him? He should have been yelling, "Whoa, dude. Those cupcakes? Will take HOURS. Shut up, put the book down, and back away sloooowly." He should have beat the crap outta my Inner Wannabe Martha.

But he didn't.

And I bought the book.

And I fell in love with the owl cupcakes because they are owls and they are awesome and they seemed easy enough.

My first clue that they weren't going to be easy came when I was in Target, picking up the eleventy million things I needed for the cupcakes. I needed Runts - specifically the banana ones - to make the beaks. Target had not a single Runt in the whole store, and believe me, I looked. I perused the candy aisle. I checked every combo bag of Halloween candy. I RE-perused the candy aisle. Thinking I could use candy corn instead, I looked for a bag of that. Also a fail. (Aside: how can Target be out of candy corn? That stuff multiplies on the shelves and can usually be found en masse in the clearance bin until well after Thanksgiving.) I finally had to go to Giant Eagle and spend 10 minutes painstakingly picking out the banana Runts from the bulk candy dispenser while ignoring the odd looks of everyone around me.

My second clue came when Sunday morning found me tediously scraping filling off of Oreo halves and then cutting the empty wafers into thirds. Did you know that it's damn hard to cut an Oreo without it crumbling into bits? Well it is. Consider yourself warned.

Miss O had a playdate yesterday, so I co-opted the free labor to help me assemble the owls. I was wholly unprepared for the mess (OMG, frosting everywhere), and also for the FrankenOwls that the girls ended up making. Dude, some of those owls had four eyeballs and two noses and maybe just possibly a bindi. There was also a cyclops.

Despite the mess and the tedium and the ears and eyes that kept falling off, I think they came out kinda freakycute.

And apparently they taste yummy, too.

Don't forget the bat wings

Miss O fancies herself a cook, and her specialty is soup. We usually give her a box of broth, some dried pasta, a bunch of veggies, and let her go at it.

Last night she asked if she could write down one of her "famous soup recipes" and if maybe we could use it for a Supper Club dinner sometime because "my soup is really good!"

I can assure you that if we DO make a Miss O-inspired soup for Supper Club, it will NOT be this one because honestly? I have no idea where to get bat wings. Also, if people are going to have the frights scared out of them, I would prefer that happen near their own bathrooms, thankyouverymuch.

I especially enjoy her very precise boiling temperature and the fact that she (like her mother) writes in parentheticals. The "Side pumpkin seeds (roasted)" is just killing me for some reason...

Second Grade. Already.

You know that old Staples commercial, the one with the parent whizzing down the aisles singing "It's the most wonderful time of the year" while piling up school supplies? Yeah, that's how I felt today as I walked home from the bus stop, minus the shopping cart.

I love the start of the school year and the return of routine. And possibly also the return of not having to tell Miss O, "uh, dude, that outfit does. not. match." Uniforms? Best thing EVER.

She was so excited that she couldn't fall asleep last night, then bounded out of bed at 6:27 this morning full of more energy than I've seen all summer. Two minutes later she was standing in my office, head covered by her jumper. "HELP! I'm stuck in here!" In her excitement, seems she forgot to, y'know, UNZIP the thing before jamming it over her head.

She put on clean unnerwears without a fuss. She ate breakfast without dawdling. She brushed her teeth and hair without being asked. She was standing at the door, waiting to go a full five minutes early. What have the pod people done with my child?! And, more importantly, do I want them to bring her back?

      

The lovely and fabulous F is back as our crossing guard this year, so I can once again feel free to complain about my lack of sewing prowess and have her offer to do my sewing for me. :-)

And for those who remember the craziness of last year, it's back, though in a slightly less inebriated form. Let's hope it stays that way.

Oh! I almost forgot about her lunch. She really REALLY wanted crab sushi today, so I did up a bento-style Laptop Lunchbox gig. I even parted with one of my precious, hoarded Ho Hos in the name of back to school. Not the most attractive lunch ever, but I'm guessing she liked it.  (Donut peach, skewers of green peppers and mango, cut-up string cheese, sushi, edamame, Ho Ho, and dried strawberries.)

I'm looking forward to picking her up from Extended Day and hearing all the gory details about the first day. Call me a schmuck, but I love to hear who's in her class, who she sat with at lunch, what they learned, and whether anyone cried. (I learned that last question from Sarah. She taught me well because asking that ALWAYS elicits a good story that would have otherwise remained buried.)

Who doesn't want some tentacles in her lunchbox?

So, inspired by some friends on LJ (thanks for the BI, guys!), I decided to try bento-ing for some of Miss O's lunches this year. I know, I know... I need more complexity in the morning like I need a big pot of decaffeinated coffee. BUT. The bento boxes and the egg shapers and the little sauce containers and the food picks? OMG, so cute. How could I resist?

This week -- the week between camp and school -- is all about practicing. Dude, doing a bento "right" requires a level of food artistry that I just don't have yet - it's all about balancing color and shapes and then packing that crap in there so it doesn't budge 'til lunchtime. I am in awe of some of the lunches I see on the bento blogs and communities.

Despite the fact that I have some seriously remedial food art skills, I'm having fun with this. Today's experiment is here:

I confess that I wasn't sure how the octodog was going to work out. I mean, what if his tentacles just HUNG there, limp? Turns out I needn't have worried. Those TJs wieners give some serious curling action. Not only do they taste delicious without nitrates, they have astounding tentacling properties. Woot.

The octodog is sitting on a bed of snap peas and skewered cukes/tomatoes. He's lounging next to some baked beans. Dessert is a handful of koala cookies and one of those teeny tiny Chinese jelly things. The little containers have as much ketchup in them as I could shove in there. (Getting the ketchup in there was the hardest part of this whole stinkin' bento.)

Miss O is loving this. She just bounded out the back door with her lunch in hand to show Mel and the kids. Let's hope she actually EATS it.

And here it is, Monday again

Re-entry into the real world is always so hard. It's made much more so by having to reset all of my passwords at the asscrack of dawn this morning. I have spent the entire day typing my old password, getting an error, muttering like a sailor, and trying to recall what lovely combination of letters and numbers I selected before the sun rose.

And of course all that is made even worse by the remnants of a giant food-and-wine dinner last night. K came over to help DH brew up another batch of passion fruit wheat and brought some fabulous munchies from Whole Foods. I made fresh pasta w/sage brown butter, a big salad, and peach blueberry cobbler for dinner, which was all consumed with lots of wine. Seriously, we spent the entire afternoon and evening consuming calories of some sort.

It was awfully hard to get up this morning...

Speaking of food, DH and I had one of the best dinners I've ever eaten - the corn festival at Soba. I could have easily chowed through two servings of everything. Fresh corn is the nectar of the gods. Paired with steak and crab and wine... *drool*

To compensate for all that, Miss O. and I went biking again this weekend. She wanted to take the Heritage Trail on the South Side so she could sit and stare at the musical fountain in the Station Square courtyard. Fine by me, as there was opportunity for me to down a few shots of espresso while she gawked. It was a gorgeous day and actually a bit chilly while riding. Luckily for me, the kid pedals SO. SLOW. that I never really got much wind.

  

Kaiseki

As much as I love Japanese food, I have never ever eaten raw fish. (I know. Pick up your jaws, already.) I stuck to the cooked rolls, mostly, or the veggie rolls. Something about the thought of raw seafood just squicked me right out, and I had no burning desire to try it.

Well. M's father is visiting from Poland, and she asked if we'd be interested in doing the Kaiseki menu at an awesome local sushi place (the one where Miss O begs to go every week). Not being one to pass up a social outing with friends, I said yes. I figured that if worse came to worst, I could foist my raw stuff onto DH's plate. :-)

The seven of us met at Chaya on Friday night and let the chef serve us whatever he felt like.

We had about 8 courses, and never knew what was coming next. It ranged from maki to sashimi to tempura to fatty tuna being cooked on a scallop shell set atop a burning mound of salt. At one point, the waitress brought us a piece of paper. "This is the beef you're going to eat." Indeed, it was the family tree and insemination history and NOSE PRINT of the cow we then got on our plate. For the record, our cow's grandfather was Fugusaki. ;-)

We finished with red bean ice cream wrapped in a thin rice-papery pillow. So good.

And guess what? I ate it all. Every single piece of raw fish, every single weird item we couldn't identify (well, except for the tiny whole crabs - the amount of crunching I heard going on in DH's mouth sort of scared me). I even LOVED the salmon sashimi that had been served with paper-thin wedges of lemon in between each piece.

Yay for peer pressure. And good wine.

FYI

Fish eyeballs never lose their disgusting ICK factor, despite the copious amount of wine one may drink.

We had a whole red snapper on the grill tonight -- impulse purchase from Whole Foods this morning -- and it was delicious. However, watching Miss O poke at the eyeball with a fork was enough to make me nearly lose my yummy dinner right then and there. I mean, I'm glad my child isn't squicked by eating a whole fish, but I DO wish she wouldn't prod its eyeballs with a utensil.

Dinner from a blender

Because I am lazy, and not very hungry, I decreed tonight Smoothies-For-Dinner Night. We have -- finally -- a purty new blender to replace that pathetic thing Karen smashed all over the sidewalk two years ago. And TJs has thoughtfully supplied my freezer with all sorts of inexpensive frozen fruit.

I'm currently drinking a mango-pineapple smoothie made with vanilla soy milk, a splash of clementine juice, and a scoop of protein. Yum.

DH has the same, minus the clementine juice; I didn't get inspired until after I'd made his and Miss O's.

Hers is some sort of mixed-berry smoothie with vanilla soy and some protein.

To offset that, we've got cupcakes-from-a-box baking in the oven right now. It's all about balance in this house...

Alchemy

I went to Alchemy last night with some friends. What an amazing experience.

Alchemy is a little restaurant-within-a-restaurant: 12 seats, and three meals per week, each beginning precisely at 7pm. The chef specializes in molecular gastronomy -- nothing is as it seems, and everything is completely unique and interesting. For example, the risotto in the 8th course? It was a dollop of creamy liquid, no bigger than a quarter. But oh my god, it was like eating a forkful of the best risotto I've ever eaten.

The meal was 12 courses, with wine pairings throughout. You get what the chef makes, and this superwaiter (who is knowledgeable enough to be a chef himself) explains how to approach each course and what each -- often unidentifiable -- item on the plate is.

One of my favorites was the sushi course. A small bowl came out with, basically, deconstructed sushi. The toro was a long thin strip that seemed as if it had somehow been frozen; it was cold and yet tender and perfect at the same time. The rice was a small dollop of liquid at the bottom. Wasabi and avocado were essentially Dippin' Dots. :-) The soy sauce was a light foam that climbed up the bowl, while the uni was in ice cream form with sesame seed-type things on the outside. Another fish was on the bottom, along with a succulent lettuce that tasted like a pea but looked like a sprig of rosemary. It was incredible.

The local paper did a nifty article on the chef and the experience a few years ago. It has a slideshow that shows off some of his techniques and creations. Interesting stuff, that.