The Dress Up Trunk (Warning: Lots of parenthetic descriptors)

The dress up trunk started as a labor of love by my Mom for Elise and I. She spent hours scouring remnant bins at SewFro and Hancock’s. She spent even more hours sewing elastic sequin belts and little skirts and dresses and pirate costumes. She donated some old, strange jewelry to the cause (think peach pit necklace she was given at a Mardi Gras parade). She poured a lot of love into that box… And the whole time she was doing it, all my Dad could think was, “Poor Kelley… They are NEVER going to play with that thing…”

Boy, was he wrong.

As you can see, Elise is having a marvelous time in her metallic top, tutu, pirate skirt, curling ribbon tiara, and genuine Ruby Slippers. (The general rule with the DUT is the more the merrier: the more articles of clothing you can adorn yourself with at a single time, the happier you will be. Good job, Elise!)

The Dress Up Trunk

Elise and I wore it until it was threadbare, and gave it to friends, who also loved it to shreds and then gave it to their cousins. The oddball collection of costumes was one of the coolest things we owned. It was a creative outlet and a gateway for our imaginations. We spent hours playing boarding school (Seriously… I was always the teacher, we were usually in Eastern Europe, and Elise, the perpetual pupil, was having to run away or be hidden from something, so the game always began with a journey of epic proportions, and that journey of epic proportions, for reasons I don’t remember, almost always began in her closet), pirate ship, magical princess ball, and, every girl’s favorite, wedding day (don’t worry, Elise got to be the bride sometimes… Not nearly as often as me, of course). I can’t stress enough how much we loved that thing.

Those memories are what drove me to make a contemporary facsimile of the infamous dress up trunk as a Christmas gift for my 5 year-old (for all intents and purposes) step daughter Caroline and her two younger half-sisters.

So I began. I scoured the remnants bin at Joann’s, came up with little (it’s the 20-tweens, a lamé drought!), and scoured for coupons instead. If you are not yet in the know, you can get any item in the store at any given time for at least 40% off. Seriously. They always have sales running and coupons available, either in the store, in mailers, or online. I got great deals on all kinds of fun fabrics. They have a whole aisle, which I have fondly dubbed “The Quinceñera Depot,” where one can find about ten different styles of fancy, wedding-inspired apparel fabric in about 20 different colors. I had a field day. I didn’t even know that they made aqua lace, much less that I could get a yard of it for less than $5. I also found some light pink knit jersey with navy stripes and skulls. They even make jungle green spandex that has little scale-looking things on it, just like a mermaid’s tail! It’s really pretty amazing, the amount of unique (tacky) things available out there.

I had a windfall during my second trip ever to Hobby Lobby. Trim was on sale! I got several yards of fringe and sequined elastic. I even located some hot pink fringe with sequins in the actual fringe. Woohoo!

Then, I sewed. I sewed and sewed and sewed. I kept sewing some more. I got the world’s coolest serger for my birthday, thanks Mom and Dad, and kept humming right along (though I did so with a new sense of professionalism; all my seams now looked lovely and store-bought). I sewed close to 40 items for that thing. I’m sure Justin, despite hearing Dad’s reassurances that we played with ours until we grew out of all the costumes, wondered if I was crazy at times, staying up until late at night fooling with a tulle skirt that simply wouldn’t come out the way I wanted.

I made a gold pleather skirt (yes, gold pleather exists), several pairs of harem pants (don’t worry, we called them Jasmine pants in front of the munchkin… The last thing I want is her asking me to explain a harem), a head scarf with jingly coins, an indigo satin cape with black glitter stars and moons, a wizard’s cloak with purple sleeves, a black-and-white polka dot skirt, a purple metallic evening gown, an asymmetrical disco-ball dress, a pair of electric yellow and electric blue cheetah print shorts (it’s in the material pic at the top… I wish I had gotten more yardage for myself. I felt that way about several of the fabrics. So did Nikki.)… and a wedding veil and skirt to top them all.

This is, of course, not mentioning the notorious flower girl-turned-princess dress that you can still see traces of in my kitchen sink. This creation started when Justin, Caroline, and I were all in Justin’s best friend Jacob’s wedding to Cami. The wedding was beautiful and went off without a hitch. At the end of it all, though, we ended up with a large-running size six wedding dress replica, which had set me back about $80, that there was no chance in Christendom Caroline would wear again.

(My bridesmaid dress, on the other hand, is a flattering deep purple and will be recycled into an organization in Houston that gives out prom dresses for free to girls who don’t have the money to buy their own dress but still want to go to their prom. They literally just have to call and say they are showing up, and they get a free dress, make-up, and accessories! There are several organizations like this throughout Houston and the entire US. Conduct a search for one in your area if you too have dresses from sorority formals or friends’ weddings collecting dust in your spare bedroom closet. Some organizations also need cocktail-type dresses and give them out for girls to wear to graduation and other senior events, so if that’s all you got bring ’em on!)

Back to the FG dress… What was I to do?

I got the bright idea to dye the 100% polyester creation. It was a disaster. The first time (HA) I dyed it, it came out splotchy. It was no surprise, since apparently polyester is the most difficult thing to dye by far. After round two, this time with a lot more dye and some vinegar to set it, I achieved a reasonable shade of aqua (see Aquamarine, under the blue-green shades). It was still splotchy, but not nearly as noticeable as the first trial. (I’ll make another, separate post with a photographic account of the princess dress, for those of you interested in laughing at my folly.)

I bejeweled it to moderate success, and then I sewed a feather boa around the top of the bodice and sewed on a few dozen beads. Caroline LOVED it.

At the end of her stay, I told her she could keep two outfits here and could take the rest home. Luckily, the princess dress is staying. 🙂 She was torn about leaving her wedding veil. Conclusion: I told her I would make her another one for here. I went back to Joann’s today to buy some more white lace for a veil. I also bought some awesome fabric to make a new wedding skirt, as well as some bright-white brocade for a wedding tunic to go under aforementioned wedding skirt. I hope she will be pleased. I also have some leftover tulle for another skirt for her. I also never actually used the aqua lace and figured it would make lovely sleeves for something, or perhaps a princess something-or-other since it matches that dress quite nicely.

Suffice it to say, I don’t think I’m done with the dress up trunk. Though I am not quite willing to admit it yet, I’ll probably make another dress up trunk’s worth of tacky clothes to stay here at Casa Kaia and Justin.

Which, really, is fine. I absolutely love that girl. I think she is smart and talented and beautiful and amazing and helpful and, well, just a wonderful person. It brings me pure joy to see her face light up when she accomplishes something or her mile-wide smile when she runs to me yelling “My Kaia!” and wiggles into my arms for a hug. I can’t think of anyone or anything better to spend my time and energy on, and that’s the truth.

Watching her open the trunk up was certainly the highlight of my Christmas (the three of us opened gifts as a family on Tuesday, complete with a treasure hunt to find her new bike), and I hope she and her sisters enjoy it. Below are a few pictures of Wedding – Evening Gown Caroline, Rudolph – Gypsy Caroline, and Pirate – Model Caroline. There is also a picture of the munchkin, Justin, and her new bike. Did I mention she’s athletic, too? 🙂

Roast Chicken, Passionate Potatoes, and Goat Log

My cousin Hannah turned 18 last week. I took her out for coffee yesterday, and gave her a choice in birthday presents. She could have a quilt for her bed in college OR makeup from whatever counter she wanted at Macy’s. (I know. I am an amazing cousin.) After some deliberation, we went to Tea Time Quilting on Tulane here in the Heights. (Tulane! Roll Wave! PS- Did you know that Hanky Panky came out with a collegiate collection, and that Tulane is part of it!?! What good fortune!)

Jana, the owner, also runs Jana’s flowers on the same corner. Let me tell ya’ll: she is a trip, in a good way. She talks fast, walks fast, and knows her stuff. I think she is awesome, and I try to buy whatever I can from her. They also have a ton of fat quarters there, literally boxes upon boxes, all sorted by color, so if you’re into precuts you have to check this spot out. We walked around for a few minutes and ended up leaving with a pattern which later went out the window when we found fabric Hannah loves online that requires something different.

Free Spirit Fabrics have a TON of great lines. I have Deer Valley (how coincidental) as the shade in my bathroom, and have bought several yards of this and that for different projects. All of it is awesome. Hannah is deliberating over the Cottage Garden line. I happen to think it is amazing. They kind of have a Matisse-Floral-On Acid thing going. Love it.

On the way home from Tea Time, she decided to stay for dinner, and boy was that an excellent decision. First of all, Hannah and I found yet another common bond while hanging at my house: we are both serious Martha Stewart fans. Second of all, we ate roast chicken. I love roast chicken.

Now, if you did not know that Martha Stewart had little blurbs on Comcast OnDemand, I’m sorry you’ve missed out so far. They are wonderful. This month is (of course) all about Halloween. She makes glitter pumpkins, a shrunken head tree, and a scary candy bowl that Nikki told me I was not allowed to make because it would bring me too much pleasure in scaring innocent children. We watched almost all of them while I cooked yesterday.

On to roast chicken. I have something to say to anyone out there who cooks: don’t be afraid of the whole bird. You can’t be. They are so much better than the standard boneless skinless chicken breast. I bought a large organic, free-range, never-been-frozen chicken at Kroger yesterday for about $11. It fed Justin (who counts as two people), myself, and Hannah with enough left over for two lunches or a batch of chicken tetrazzini. Seriously, that was a good deal. It would have been even cheaper if I had gone with a bird with fewer bells and whistles, but that was not available fully thawed. I just rubbed it down with a compound butter and stuffed it with lemon halves and herbs. Easy.

Last week Mom had Bunco at her house. She had to make an appointment day-of, so we worked it out that I could help her cook. She made individual pot pies. While we were at Central Market, she found purple fingerling potatoes. I didn’t know purple potatoes existed, much less that they are incredibly good for you and packed with nutrients and antioxidants. Last night, when Hannah and I spotted baby Purple Passion Potatoes at Kroger, we bought them. 🙂

They were a little sweet, and about the same texture as a sweet potato. And they were bright purple inside. I boiled them in salted water and hit them with some finely chopped parsley, butter, lots of black pepper, some crushed red pepper because we like it hot, and a little cream cheese. I’ve done it with sour cream before (if you do this make sure to get a brand name container because the nicer stuff tends to hold up to heat better), and it would be good with goat cheese. I mean goat log.

The goat log part comes from the salad. Justin LOVES goat cheese. I credit myself with that introduction. I try to get him surprises at the grocery store, like some crazy mango-pineapple-guava juice or the supremely spicy Sabra hummus… or goat cheese. Hannah and I, being juvenile, thought that serving “goat log” would be hilaaarious. I mean, really. Goat log. Makes me giggle now.

I made a spinach salad with cherry tomatoes, the goat log, grated carrots, and a homemade lemony vinaigrette. I think it would have been nice with balsamic, too. Grated carrots, along with caramelized onions, are underrated in my opinion. Carrots are good for your eyes, and are loaded with nutrients. They are also cheap.

In Germany, they serve all kinds of little salads with meals. Karrotensalat, literally translated “carrot salad,” is my favorite. Some varieties utilize vinegar, others use a mayonnaise or sour cream base. I couldn’t get enough of it over there. They also had wonderful potato salads, cucumber salads, tomato salads, and more. If you are heading to Deutschland anytime soon, make sure to order them at lunchtime.

All in all, last night was capital. I love nothing better than being with the people I love. Feeding them and giving them presents are a close-second tie. I am so happy I get to make Hannah a quilt that she can take north with her. I know it’s sentimental, but I am honored that I get to be a part of her growing and finding herself as an artist, even if it’s just that I get to help keep her warm at night. I am so happy I have the luxury of making roast chicken on a weeknight. Seriously, Justin’s whole face lit up when I said, “roast chicken.” He smiled even wider at the prospect of S-S-S-Hummus. Hannah ate her weight in passionate potatoes and walked out with the recipe on a 3×5 card. I’m going to have to get mom to make her a cookbook with all the food we ate growing up in it like she did for Elise and I. What a wonderful evening spent in the company of Hannah, Justin, and Martha Stewart. I’m a lucky lady.

 

Side Note: All recipes are under Roast Chicken Dinner on the Recipes page. 🙂 Happy cooking.

Chicken Contest

A few weeks ago Justin and I were talking about where we were going to eat for dinner, and no one wanted to choose. This is a common occurrence with us. The common solution, which Justin suggested then, was rock-paper-scissors. Whoever lost had to decide where we were going AND pay. I “lost.” I chose Popeye’s. I won.

That night, the chicken contest was born. We decided to try all the fried chicken we could find and decide what was best. Before you read on, I should warn you: this contest, if you can even call it that, is completely arbitrary and has no rules. The reliability and validity of our findings are poor, and our methods are questionable. If you decide to go by something we say, you do so at your own peril. 🙂

Since that Saturday, we have been eating fried chicken for lunch or dinner every Saturday. Popeye’s was first, and it was delectable.The biscuits were buttery, the red beans and rice were spicy, and the chicken was juicy, crispy, and good good good! The people who work at the Popeye’s on Shepherd at W 11th are incredibly nice. The whole shebang constitutes a pleasant dining experience. I was truly delighted with my choice and purchase. I won like Charlie Sheen.

I think one of the reasons I like Popeye’s is that it’s the chicken I grew up on. When we were growing up, Elise knew two kinds of chicken: chicken on the grill (which is exactly what it sounds like) and chicken on the bone (FRIED chicken!). That’s still one of my favorite Elise-isms. She has so many good ones. When we ate chicken on the bone we either ate it at home, when Dad made it, or at Popeye’s. Dad does make some tasty fried chicken, for the record. I can eat a LOT of it. Yum. Dad, if you’re reading this, I’m saying nothing more than, “You have not made fried chicken in a long time, and you know we all really like it when you do.” He also makes the world’s best potato pancakes. There’s a good story about those, but I am starting on a tangent.

Back to the chicken contest.

The next week we went to KFC, and it was gross. I mean it. Disgusting. The chicken was soggy! Literally. Soggy. Ew. The gravy (which I had to try, because Cartman on Southpark is sooo obsessed with it) was nasty. The quality of service was poor. I mean, Justin asked for a breast and a thigh (hehehe, I know I’m like an 11 year old but that’s still funny to me!), and they couldn’t even do that! The girl was downright rude! Everything was just gross. I don’t ever think I will go back.

I wanted to write a letter to Southpark telling the producers that Cartman has no logical reason to be obsessed with such a terrible place. I mean, remember the episode where the guys get mad at Cartman because he eats all the skin off the bucket of chicken, and he says, “I don’t get what ya’ll are mad at I left you the good part,” after they come back from helping Stan’s mom bring in groceries? Directly after that he leaves. Well, that’s pretty bad. Hilarious yes, but awful. Now imagine that the chicken skin was soggy. THE HORROR!

I wanted to write another letter to Popeye’s, offering my services to their marketing team. If they don’t want to hire me, that’s fine, but they need to hire someone. I mean, how is KFC beating them?! How is it that Popeye’s is that much better, and people still eat at KFC?! Marketing! Everyone knows KFC: the face, the jingle, but of the four people I polled, all of whom are serious Popeye’s fans, no one could sing, “Love that chicken from POPEYE’S!” No one! It’s kind of sad, really. If someone at Popeye’s reads this, I would be happy to work for ya’ll and help turn this thing around.

KFC doesn’t deserve a letter.

Last week was by far the most interesting in the contest yet: Justin likes Church’s the most now. That’s right. Church’s beat out Popeye’s in a national spicy recipe taste test, and Justin agrees with the majority! I liked the chicken. It was about the same as Popeye’s for me. I also liked that they had okra. I love okra. What I was unimpressed with (which Justin liked) were the red beans. I thought they were lacking. Justin really liked them, though, and they weren’t bad, but they weren’t my favorite.

The biscuits at Church’s, however, were really good. They put honey on them as part of the baking process. I am a huge fan. They were some of the yummiest biscuits I’ve ever had. They also looked like homemade biscuits: nice and ugly. Nothing like some good homestyle cooking. I wonder if I can figure out how to duplicate that…

What with both the chicken and biscuits being delectable, I’d say I am also a Church’s fan. I guess the best way to put it is this: if I wanted chicken, I wouldn’t pass up a Church’s to get to a Popeye’s. I would pass up KFC to get to anything else.

On a side note, I had surgery last week, and I was still sort of on pain killers when we ate Church’s, so my opinion is most likely a little skewed. That’s also why I didn’t write on the blog at all. Sorry about that, but everything I wrote was complete nonsense. Think Alice In Wonderland. I actually decided to work on a story, and wrote a good 2500 words on it, but the next day re-read it and had to delete delete delete. I had, in my delerium, decided to add magic to the plot. Nikki got a real kick out of that when I told her. Narrator foul. 🙂

Tomorrow should be good. Justin and I are going to try Hartz Chicken Buffet. Rod and Zsazsa said they have eaten there several times and that it’s pretty good. We’ll see about that! Popeye’s still reigns supreme for me.

Missoni for Target Recap, GF Goodness, and Cautionary Tales from Bulk Foods

1. I went to Target yesterday for Missoni. There was so little Missoni I felt like weeping. They done been cleaned OUT. Mom said people at the Target on Main had been taking things out of each other’s carts. Party foul, Target shoppers. Apparently one lady even got all in Mom’s business, asking, “Are you talking to someone at the San Felipe store?!?!?” Mom was talking to Aunt Stacie in Atlanta. Wow. Just… Wow. A woman at my cheap Target on 290 insisted to me that she knows the Chronicle’s fashion editor, and that she said Target would be re-stocking through October. My take? Target only buys the Missoni name for a certain number of items for a certain amount of time. If the website is sold out, then I doubt there will be more Missoni on Target shelves in Houston, Texas. I know, Doomsday. Sorry, loves. eBay has a fabulous selection, though.

2. I love Rice Epicurean Markets. First of all, they have amazing specials on meat every weekend. Beef tenderloins are ridiculously cheap. The guys at the butcher counter will even cut the one you want into roasts and steaks and freezer pack it all for you. Second, it can get crowded, but not in the way Central Market or the gigantic Kroger near my house can. You can pretty much always be in and out of there in less than thirty minutes, even if you’re getting a fair amount of stuff. Thirdly, and most importantly, Rice carries a ton of Gluten-Free options. This is important because Nikki and Hannah (my BFF and Fave Lil’ Cuz-lette, respectively) are both celiac. I have found all kinds of gluten-free temptations on their aisles. GF chocolate chip pancakes, anyone? Yes, please! They are frozen and delicious and perfect for school mornings. Also frozen are GF lemon streusel muffins, blueberry waffles, chocolate-coated donuts, and cinnamon raisin bread. They have tons of different flours, flavored crackers and pretzels, and they even have GF breadcrumbs! It’s so nice to be able to cut that step out of cooking. Trustworthy GF shortcuts are not always easy to find. I got Hannah a bunch of gluten-free booty (arg!) the other day before our girls’ night out, and when I was leaving the parking lot I actually called Rice’s corporate headquarters to thank them for making Hannah and Nicole a priority. How nerdy am I?? While Fiesta is still my usual destination (they also have a lot of GF items in stock), Rice is by far the best place to go for celiac snacks.

3. I made Gluten-Free French Bread for Nikki on our Friend-iversary. It was very tasty, and  it was admittedly difficult for Justin and I to stop quality-controlling her gift. The recipe is posted in PDF on the Recipes page, and linked to the original website here. Thank you, Sonja Stewart, for coming up with this excellent recipe! I will definitely be making it again.

4. A note about the bulk food department: BEWARE. The bulk food section is chock full of cross-contamination. I know, I sound like Alton Brown. It’s the truth, though! There is no way to keep people from using the wrong scoops in bins, spilling items between bins, or (yuck) sticking their grubby hands into bins. I just spoke to an associate in bulk at Central Market on the phone, and he said, “It’s frustrating to watch people just reach on in for almonds with their hands in front of everyone on a Saturday.” NARSTY!!! Apparently their time is more valuable than others’ health. CM, Whole Foods, and Fiesta all had similar stellar sterilization methods for cleaning bins between uses, but unfortunately no one can control that human factor. Fiesta and Whole Foods mentioned routinely cleaning the bulk area, washing the scoops regularly, vacuuming and wiping down the bins throughout the day, and tossing merchandise known to be contaminated with potential allergens. WF goes so far as to set up it’s organic goods above its conventional ones, and non-allergen products above allergens to prevent cross-contamination as much as possible. Good work, Whole Foods! ¡Buen trabajo, Fiesta! (Note: I’m not saying Kroger and CM don’t, but I did inquire about the general regimen and neither of their employees mentioned these things.) So. If you’re cooking for someone with an allergy, say a Nikki, and you want to get some soy powder, it’s probably not the best to buy it from CM bulk where it sits between a wheat product and a milk product, and there is indeterminate white stuff everywhere. I asked the lady to please get me some from the back. Just something to keep in mind. 🙂

Nikki and Kaia Turn 10!

Nikki Crocker and I will be celebrating our ten year friend anniversary tomorrow. It’s kind of a big deal. Of course, we didn’t become close friends until about 8 months later when we were able to bond over having two of the three worst numbers in the school-wide housing lottery, landing us both in the highly undesirable Clement House. As it turns out, Clement House was one of the biggest blessings Andover offered. More on that some other time, though.

Our BFF status was not secured until lower (sophomore) year. Over the course of the fall trimester, several traumatic events brought us closer to the thick-as-thieves mark. Most are funny now, others not so much. I would say the most notable event was the first night Nikki and Mark Margiotta broke up, and I walked into her room with no advance warning of this event. Nikki had this telemarketer phone, which I greatly envy now but made merciless fun of then despite her insistence (and rightly so) of its practicality. She was talking on the T-phone, instant messaging 6 or 7 people, drinking out of a 2-liter bottle of orange soda, and shoveling KIX into her mouth by the handful.

She was pissed. I was petrified.

I said something along the lines of, “I’ll just come back later,” to which she replied, “NO. Stay.” I sat on her bed for about 10 minutes, then finally excused myself by promising I would be back in 5 minutes.

I ran up the stairs and called my mother, panicking. “I think Nikki needs to go to Isham.” Isham is the health center. My mom laughed. I was so upset and worried about Nikki, and I distinctly remember telling mom, “It’s NOT funny!” Mom told me Nikki would be alright, she just needed a friend, and it would not be a bad idea to replace the orange soda with water because that seemed like an awful lot of sugar.

I tromped back down to Nikki’s room with a stack of homework, a clean cup full of ice water, and the words, “She will be fine, sweetie,” echoing through my head. She was.

Since then Nikki has been there for me through everything. She is my rock when my life gets bowled over by hurricanes, and the one who laughs my pain away when I am sad. She is one of the first people I call to tell good news. I am so lucky to have her as my friend.

I am making her a surprise tomorrow. I will have to start early in the morning, but it is totally worth it. It’s small change in comparison to all the wonderful things she does for me every day… Yesterday, she gave me the dress off her back. What a friend! It’s things like that that got us the most write-ins for best friends senior superlative. We lost by less than ten votes, and we weren’t even on the ballot. I hope she likes her special gift.

Nik- Thanks, girl, for ten years of fun and fabulosity. I’m looking forward to several decades more. Love you tons!

September 11, 2001

September 11, 2001 was my first day of classes in high school. I was 14, on my own for the first time, and my parents and sister had flown out of Boston’s Logan airport the night before the attacks. I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the attacks: Ms. Kelly’s english class. Nikki and Terrance were there. Our teacher, a whimsical woman, asked us, “What would you say if I told you airplanes had been hijacked by terrorists and flown into the World Trade Center? What would you say if I told you the towers had fallen, and thousands had lost their lives?” Needless to say, we said nothing. It was all so fantastic; we truly thought she was joking. It was not until Mr. Scott, our geometry teacher, began talking about the tragedy that we understood it was real. I remember reaching across to my friend Terrance, the first person I met at Andover, looking into his eyes, and seeing all the fear and uncertainty I felt reflected back on me. It was one of the scariest days of my life.

One girl in my dorm’s dad worked in the WTC. She could not get through to call her parents to make sure he was ok. My dorm, Double Brick House, all got on our phones until we made it through. Her mother, a hypochondriac, had insisted her dad stay home from work that day because he had coughed up a storm that morning. I remember her crying and saying, “Thank God, Thank God,” over and over again. We all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

On the ten year anniversary of this tragedy, I will be praying for the families of all who lost their lives that day, and the families of those who have lost their lives in the aftermath of war. I will be thinking of what I can do to better our world, like being kind to everyone and tolerant of all cultures and religions. I am sure others will be doing the same. The more who do, the better chance we have for peace in the future.

Welcome / Green Chile Week+ / Etc.

I’m very glad this blog is finally up and running. Welcome, readers! In other words: Welcome, Mom and Rod and Zsazsa!

About two weeks ago I stopped at Whole Foods to pick up dinner. Upon entering I found a 1.9 bushel box of HOT green chiles. In other words, it was a ten pound box of heat, spice, and wonder for less than a Hamilton. So I purchased it and brought it home. Then the chiles sat there while I went out of town for a week. Then I came home and started playing with them. I had to throw some away as they had gotten mushy, but it was ok. I had roughly 8 lbs. left. In about ten days, green chiles were a major ingredient in six dinners. List as follows.

1. The first night, Justin and I had green chile and shrimp enchiladas. They were quite tasty.

2. Two nights later, Nikki came over and we had green chile and chicken enchiladas. She wasn’t a huge fan of the roasted chile I made her try. Apparently she got a “hot” one, and had to down a glass of milk to keep from spontaneously combusting. Thank heaven she remembered her Lactaid or the night would have been a disaster.

3. On Monday, with our new friend Rochel over, we were supposed to have chiles rellenos. Instead, we had shrimp wrapped in green chiles, battered, fried, and smothered in cheese, green salsa, and yummy sauce. In other words, we had “WhyDidn’tYouTellMeYourFriendWasComingAt7-BecauseNowIts6-AndYouKnewAt3!-IAmBeyondFrazzled-TheChilesHaveShreddedUnderTheBroiler-NoChilesRellenosTonightSeñor-IWillHaveToCallForPIzzaIfICan’tThinkOfSomethingElseSoon-IHopeThisPoorGuyIsAGoodEater-Whatever-WhenInDoubtDeepFryItAndWalkAway.” It was good fun. Rochel was a good sport about everything, and despite my initial misgivings, the little shrimp and chile poppers turned out well. I ate several. The evening itself was a great success. I liked Rochel a lot. We all had a frank discussion about spirituality, which is interesting with a first-time dinner guest. We watched professional wrestling, and then Rochel went home with the advice to check out either Second Baptist or First UU on Sunday morning. We went to UU and listened to a hilarious sermon that included a hot pink cast, QT gas stations, and Precious Moments figurines. Rochel’s GPS failed him on his way to Second. I am going to volunteer to go with him next weekend so he won’t have to go alone.

4. Steak Smothered in green chiles with rice and salad.

5. Jambalaya and green chile vegetable medley.

6. Green Chile Meatloaf.

7.  Coming Soon: Green Chile Macaroni and Cheese, Chicken Stuffed with Green Chiles, Some Tasty Main Dish and Green Chile Cornbread

For your viewing pleasure, I thought I would post a picture from my recent trip to the northern states.

Nebraska Pic

Welcome to Nebraska, My Texan Friend!

I had a marvelous time up there. Really I did. Everyone was really nice, and the weather was perfect. High eighties, sunny, slight breeze… I had a great time. 🙂

Recipes are going to go up somewhere else. I don’t know where yet. I also have not figured out how exactly to write them down. I am not a measure-er, and I don’t want anyone to come down on me for posting useless recipes that say things like, “Add some cumin.” The last thing I want in my email are hostile notes asking, “Just how much is ‘some’ cumin? That’s not an accepted measurement.” I think some is roughly a teaspoon. A bunch, for spices anyways, is usually around a tablespoon, and a little bit is usually less than a half teaspoon. I think. My family doesn’t really measure, either. I mean, we do if it needs to be measured, or if trying something new and we are having guests that night. Well, unless you’re me. The hostess-with-the-mostess gene seems to have died out with me. See above story about our poor guinea pig guest for proof.

I shall sign off now. It is getting very close to day time. The only reason I was up at all was because I woke up for no reason, and when I stepped across the hall to the ladies’ room SoCo came flying by out of nowhere and scared me into a state of wired frustration. Quite the productive vanishing hour.