30 May

What Could Go Wrong?

Sometimes people get a little bit too fussy.

Fussy = needing a recipe to know that cream cheese, cream, powdered sugar, and strawberries should go together.

Fussy = bothering to mix extra pectin into jam you’ve already canned when it didn’t set properly.

Fussy = not being able to laugh when you’re watching Numb3rs and they have a site that looks a lot like Google, but says “Internet Search” where the logo should be.

Do you know what’s not fussy?  PB&J sandwiches.  Do you know what’s less fussy than that?  PB&J cookie sandwiches.  Yes.  I just went there.

PB + J + dessert = amazingness

PB + J + dessert = amazingness

I’m really into these cookies.  They’re classics.  And while I’ve worked on some variations like these and by adding M&Ms.  But none compare to this absolute stroke of brilliance I had when I accidentally made strawberry sauce instead of strawberry jam.  Whoops.  Mixing strawberry sauce with cream cheese, cream, and powdered sugar, though… what could possibly go wrong?

Nothing, as it turns out.  Especially when you put that mixture in between two peanut butter cookies.  The boyfriend was doubtful.  He was wrong.  Seriously wrong.

a match made in heaven

a match made in heaven

No recipes here.  Just have fun when you make mistakes cooking.  Figure out delicious things you can mix with your mistakes to make something even better.  But mostly… when in doubt, add cream cheese and/or cream.  So not even kidding.

17 Mar

Remember that time…

… when I totally went to Ireland?  It was pretty cool.

Wicklow

The Wicklow Mountains

I’ve been dying to tell you about it.  Except not really.  Which is why I haven’t.  Because big trips are a lot for me to process.  And my new philosophy in life is “When in doubt, just don’t say anything.”  So here I’ve been.  Not saying anything.

But I’m not in doubt anymore.  Not at all.  I have these mad cool photos to show you.  Photos of Wicklow (above) and Glendalough (below) and Kilkenny (further below).  But we’ll get there…  all in due time…

A rock in Glendalough

A rock in Glendalough

When I went to Glendalough, I found a rock.  So I sat on it, duh.  You can do more than just sit on rocks, of course.  But this rock.  It was made for sitting.

Glendalough means glen by two lakes.  And sure enough, it totes was.

Lake One

Lake One

But wait!  There’s more:

Lake Two

Lake Two

Apparently, there’s a wedding scene in Braveheart that was filmed in Glendalough.  Apparently…

Glendalough is also home to the ruins of a monastic city.  So that was pretty cool.

Wow... Right?

Wow... Right?

I have a bizarre obsession with graveyards in general.  This one is hard not to be obsessed with.

I can't get over it, really.

I can't get over it, really.

I can’t figure out why, but I totally dig the half cross left in this.

le sigh

le sigh

After Glendalough, we went and saw a really big rock.  Because that’s what you do in Ireland.  Everyone knows that.  And this rock was made for picking up.  It’s really big.  It set some record for being really big, but I didn’t really remember what record or when, to be honest.  I was a little distracted holding it up.  But it’s ok.  I’ve been working out lately.

I am woman; hear me roar!

I am woman; hear me roar!

After that, we went to Kilkenny.  And even though fictional Jenny would never go near Kilkenny, this Jenny found it a darling little town.

If anyone can aid me, it’s my brother in the army,
If I can find his station down in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he’ll come and save me, we’ll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he’ll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny

The town of Kilkenny was an absolutely magical blend of old and new.  The alleyways looked just like this:

An Alleyway in Kilkenny

An Alleyway in Kilkenny

And the streets looked just like this:

A Street in Kilkenny

A Street in Kilkenny

I stood on the steps of a “proper Irish castle” as all my new Irish friends told me.

A Proper Irish Castle

A Proper Irish Castle

When we went to Kilkenny, we met up with our good friend Willie.  He’s my buddy.

See?  We like each other.

See? We like each other.

Dublin City wasn’t too shabby either.  I’ll tell you about it another time.  But here’s a bit of a spoiler: I went to jail.

Gasp!

WHAT?!

You know what they say: “What happens in Dublin stays in Dublin.”  Actually, they don’t say that.  What they do say is “Dublin does Fridays like Michael D does poems.”  And just in case you don’t know who Michael D is, let me tell you.

08 Nov

New Beginnings

I’ve been browsing through classic food blogs lately in an effort to determine how I should go about this. I know that I love to cook. I know that my roommate is an awesome photograher. It only follows then that we should blog about this. But what does a food blog look like?

I stumbled across this article, which I found simultaneously informative and overwhelming. On the one hand, those dishes look amazing! I can’t get over it. People really cook like this? “For real?”

The truth of the matter is that I don’t have a single friend who cooks like that. I have friends who can make an amazing chocolate mint cookie or delicious ratatouille. But I don’t have friends who cook like that. I felt a little guilty at first. What am I doing starting a food blog when I don’t cook like that and I don’t spend time with people who cook like that? That’s when I discovered my answer.

On the average weekday, I get home from work not a moment before 5:30, and I’m hungry. When I say “hungry”, I don’t mean that I could use a few crackers while I whip up a gormet dinner. I mean hungry in the classical sense: as though I will faint from exhaustion if I’m not eating a full meal within the half hour. I’ll eat the salad after the pasta, thank you.

I’m also tired. Again, do not misunderstand me. I’m tired like I just had a hard day at work, and the thought of cooking the meal that I desperately crave seems impossible. Scratch the salad; that’s more work. Bring on the pasta!

If the time I spend cooking is longer than the time I spend eating, something is wrong. And let me tell you, I eat fast. Maybe I’m embarrassing myself, but I really don’t think I’m alone in this. I think capers, salmon mousse, and all manner of foods they don’t sell at Food Lion are all very fine in their own way, and if my roommates were to prepare them for me for dinner, I would happily eat them. But when you’re hungry, you need something quick and delicious, made with ingredients that you likely have in your pantry or fridge. And that is why I cook. What’s more, that is also why I’m starting this food blog.