Eggs Love Bacon

Dearest Bacon,

Researchers and physicians are saying bad things about you on the news.  I know it's not true.  I still love you. 

Those rumor-spreading scientists can say what they want about your friends, Hot Dog and Bologna. I just want them to stop talking smack about you.  You are salty, crispy, and worthy of a little more respect than those mystery meats you hang with in the grocery store. You're pork, damn it. Give the pig some cred. 

Hotdogs may have traces of human DNA in them.  Yes, that's disgusting and wrong, but it has NOTHING to do with you, Bacon. 

Bacon, you want people to get along. No one has ever heard of a fight or argument erupting while people are enjoying Bacon. Plenty of fights occur at picnics and BBQs. That ain't Bacon's fault. Once again, it's Hot Dog causing a commotion. Bacon just wants everyone's day to get off on the right foot.  Bacon, you are a lover not a fighter.  They even started flavoring vodka in honor of you. Clearly, there are no plans in the works for a Bologna flavored vodka.  That would be wrong. You know what's, right? Bacon flavored flavored anything. 

Let's just agree that nobody looks forward to an L.T. sandwich at the end of the day. If there is no B in that sandwich you're basically eating a salad.  You make salads better. Bacon, you make everything better. 

Bacon, you had me at sssazzizzle. You are what's right about a pig. Bacon, you are the best!  

The FDA seems to forget that everybody dies from something someday.   Bacon, I'll go down with you.

Love,
Eggs

An Open Apology Letter to My Digestive Tract

Dear Digestive Tract,

I want to apologize for my behavior on Friday night.

In fairness to me, I had a really rough week.  Monday was Monday (need I say more?); Tuesday I had a flat tire; Wednesday was my annual exam where a nice gynecologist shoved her fist up and into my hoo-ha; Thursday I started PMS-ing like it was my job; and by Friday I was pretty sure everyone was out to get me.

After all of that stress, I met friends after work and decided to eat as if I were representing an entire college fraternity.

Why I thought eating fried pickles, fried mushrooms, potatoes skins, french fries, and something called "nachos from hell" in one sitting was a good idea, I may never know.  I can only say it was stress eating terribly, terribly out of control.

Incidentally, nachos from hell features not one, but two pork related toppings.  Imagine a plate of nachos covered in melted cheese, onions, bacon, ham, and more cheese.  Yeah, I ate that and then ordered fries.  I'm a health nut coronary heart disease waiting to happen.  Blessedly, the nachos did have a thin layer of tomatoes and lettuce on top so I'm counting that as a serving of vegetables.

I'd like to say I washed it down with water or some healthy beverage that wasn't full of empty calories, but who would I be kidding?  You absolutely know with what I washed it down.

Again, I seemingly forgot you are not the digestive tract of my twenties.  You are more sensitive, and you deserve demand my respect.  Although I would prefer you not wake me with severe gas pains at 2 o'clock on Saturday morning, I understand the difficulty I caused you earlier that evening.

I want to tell you I won't do it again.  I want to say I will never eat like a pack of starving college men again.  We both know I am weak.  Just writing about nachos from hell makes me suddenly crave bacon and cheese.

You've been a good digestive tract for the past 39-ish years, and I hope our friendship can continue. I'm sorry I made you work so hard this past weekend. I'll try to eat more thoughtfully this week today.

Yours Truly,

Emotional Eater

Pre-Trip Preparations

All of us have certain habits or regimens we follow before embarking on a trip.

We may stop our mail, make arrangements for a cat sitter, clean our dirty laundry, or do a host of other little tasks in anticipation for a few days or weeks away from home.

I have a little regimen I hope is not unique to me, but nothing surprises me. 

I “clean out” the refrigerator. 

And what I really mean is I personally consume all of the items in the refrigerator that may go bad before I return from my trip. 

This means earlier this evening I ate 2 hardboiled eggs, three strawberries, nearly three-fourths of a bottle of wine, a chunk of cheddar cheese, a handful of pretzels, a tomato, 2 spoonful’s of hummus, and 3 garlic-stuffed olives… wait… make that four garlic-stuffed olives.  Honestly, I can eat those suckers like popcorn. 

After the wine, it really just turns into binge eating.   

There is no need to point out that pretzels rarely “go bad.”  Sure they may get stale, but that’s never stopped me from eating them in the past.  After the wine, items don’t even necessarily have to be in my refrigerator.  I just need to see them in order for them to qualify for ingestion.

I will argue I am doing my husband a favor. 

Yes, I am a woman who sacrifices a great deal.  No one wants to come home to the smell of rotting vegetables or wasted wine, right?  I take that risk off the table by just consuming it all in a single evening. 

It’s my duty as the woman of this household to make sure we are prepared for our little vaca.  If that means eating everything within arm’s reach, well so be it. 

Let the vacation begin!

The Girl Scout Cookie Diet

We've all heard of the South Beach diet, the Atkins diet, Weight Watchers, and various cleansing diets.  They all have pros and cons.

I feel it is time for me to share my Girl Scout Cookie Diet.
It's perfect for vegetarians or carnivores.  There is no counting points and no counting calories.  You just need to have a strong desire to eat your weight in Girl Scout cookies to try something new.

As I said in Those Cookie-Pushing Girl Scouts!, I really do think there is crack-cocaine in Girl Scout cookies.  Why else would we spend so much money on a cookie?  My diet takes advantage of the crack-cocaine cookie goodness so you don't even feel like you're dieting.

These cookies really are perfect for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

After doing much research, I believe one can supplement Girl Scout cookies for actual food.  Perhaps this diet isn't right for everyone, but this will be my diet until I run out of crack-cocaine cookies. In other words, this is really a one or two day diet unless you purchase several cases of cookies.

You can thank me later:

Breakfast:

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.

Start the day off right with a fistful of the powdery goodness of Savannah Smiles.  This cookie is practically a fruit with its lemony goodness. Two to three fistfuls of these cookies is the equivalent of one serving of fruit.

Follow that with crispy but light Trefoils.  These are a perfect breakfast scone-like treat. I've personally decided that one box is the equivalent of a rationally sized breakfast.

Lunch:

Even if you are in a hurry, this lunch comes together quickly.

The Do-Si-dos are like a gourmet peanut butter sandwich.  A dozen Do-Si-dos equals half a sandwich.  Do not feel bad about eating two dozen cookies. There's peanut butter in these cookies and that means protein. You need protein.

Don't forget to have another serving of fruit so shove a few more fistfuls of Savannah Smiles in your mouth. Mmmmm.

Afternoon Snack:

You are now probably feeling a bit shaky.  This is perfectly normal.
Once you eat an entire box of Tagalongs, you'll start to feel much better.  The chocolate serves as a little dose of caffeine your body needs mid-afternoon, while the peanut butter on a crisp wafer is the perfect balance of protein and carbohydrates.

I find taking two ibuprofen at this point also helps.

Dinner:

Serve your family a normal dinner.  Pick something that requires very little thought on your part because, quite frankly, you are probably having a difficult time concentrating at this point.  Might I suggest a can of ravioli, or something? Don't forget to heat it or your family will become suspicious.

Trust me, you do not want to share your diet with them because they will then want your cookies or they will judge you.  Neither is very helpful to your effort to follow the Girls Scout Cookie Diet.

After your family is fed, open a box of Somoas and eat the entire box.  The coconut and chocolate will revive your spirit.

Again, have about two or three fistfuls of Savannah Smiles.  Fruit is a very important part of a healthy diet.

For dessert, treat yourself to a sleeve of Thin Mints.  You deserve it!

Congratulate yourself on sticking to your diet.
Who says diets are hard?

Super Bowl 2013 Recap

Did you see this year's Super Bowl? 

And what I really mean is did you see the commercials?

And what I really mean, ladies, is did you see the Calvin Klein underwear commercial?

Hello, Calvin Klein!

Talk about good advertising. I immediately had the urge to run out and buy my hubby Calvin Klein undies.  I'm hoping they come with the same amazing abdominal muscles as in that commercial.  Otherwise it's kind of like false advertising.

I'm being totally sexist, right?

Imagine if my hubby admitted his hope that my boobies would stand at attention and my thighs would firm up upon putting on Victoria Secret apparel.  Yes, I would dig a shallow grave in my backyard and put his Calvin Klein wearing ass in it.

No, there are no undies on the planet that suddenly create perky boobies and firm thighs.  Oh, how I wish!

Clearly, the Calvin Klein commercial was the crown jewel of the Super Bowl commercials, although Taco Bell's seniors rocked it as did Budweiser's Clydesdale.  Of course, Ram Truck's "So God made a Farmer" commercial is also a winner.

Now about that Go Daddy commercial...
My hubby tells me it took 40 plus takes to get the kiss just right. That poor, round, bespectacled child needed to kiss that skanky, blond model multiple times before getting the kiss "just right."  That's a strong work ethic!  I'm amazed by his ability to persevere.

The commercial was upsetting to me because it was one of the more slurpy-like kisses I've heard in some time.  It's hard to eat wings while listening to two people slurpy kiss.
I nearly lost my appetite.  Nearly, but not quite.  I still managed to suck down wings, beer, pizza, and chips.

Needless to say, I could really use some magical undies right about now!


Watch the "So God made a Farmer" video, share it with others, and the Ram brand makes a donation.  Help them raise $1 million to support FFA and assist in local hunger and educational programs.  Click here or go to http://www.ramtrucks.com/en/keepplowing/ for more information.

Shhhhh...Bob Greene Has Secrets

The other night I was sitting in bed, drinking wine, munching on chips carrot sticks while simultaneously browsing various apps on my handy, dandy iPad who I have affectionately named Paddy.

I see an article on my Flipboard App entitled, "Live Strong, Feel Great:  Bob Greene's 3 Secrets to Feeling 20 Years Younger."

The article is actually from 2011, so I have no idea why my favorite app is recycling this particular article.  It must only mean the app gods are trying to tell me something about my lifestyle.  As I sit in bed consuming a large amount of calories at 11:00 PM, I reflect on what message they could possibly be trying to send me.  Hmmm?

Anywho, I'm initially annoyed imagining how young I would feel had I read Bob's dang article two years ago.  Then I read the article, and I am THRILLED to report I am already following all three of his "secrets."

Here are his secrets and...Shhhhh...keep this on the down-low because it's a secret, after all.

(Please note, I am now whispering to you because that's my secret-sharing voice):

Secret #1 - Maintain an active social life.
Well, Bob, no problem there!  I'm happy to say I have over 300 Facebook friends who I report to daily.  They know when I'm having a good day or a bad day.  At least a few of them like what I have to say, and they sure share the Facebook love with me on my birthday.  Plus, I always have my good buddy, Paddy the iPad, by my side.

Secret #2 - Try some tofu
I tried tofu.  I have no intention of trying it again.  Enough said.

Secret #3 -Get active
Well, my index fingers are remarkably active and that should count for something, right?  They get quite a workout texting, Facebooking, and flipping through apps.  I really do have svelte fingers.  I suppose exercise could have the same impact on the rest of my body, but for now I'm going to just continue exercising my fingers.  I would hate to pull a muscle or something.

After following these three tips, I guess it means I should feel 20 years younger.  That means I should feel like a 21 year old.

Bob, I hate to argue with you since you're the fitness guru, but I am waaaaaayyyy too sober to feel like my 21 year old self.  Guess I should pour myself another drink to celebrate my youthfulness!

Look Out, Waistline, Here Comes My Mouth

My mouth has literally become the most impressive garbage disposal in North America.  

I can shove anything in there and it disappears instantly.

I know everyone thinks November and December are bad dieting months.  Everyone is busy making cookies and candies.  Large dinners are prepared and served.  Leftovers are consumed in record amounts.

Yeah, I get it.  It's a total bitch to diet in November and December.  I won't argue that.

Once the dust from the holiday settles, I can't just stop the beast.  She's been feeding since November and she won't go quietly into hibernation.  No way.  She needs fed.  Feed her!

Adding to the problem is the fact I know a bunch of generous people.  You know who you are.  Honestly, every person I saw between December 1st and January 1st gave me either candies, cookies, chocolate, or wine.  My friends know me so well!

How could I refuse them?  Did it ever even occur to me to re-gift these baggies of goodness?  Hello?  Of course not!

I just spent the last month shoveling all that goodness into me via my attached garbage disposal. Mmmmm, mmmmm, and mmmmm.

Now it's January and I can't just turn the switch off.  Noooo, I don't have that kind of willpower.

The monster needs fed and that monster is me.  Specifically my mouth, the largest most effective garbage disposal in all the land.

The other day I stood in front of the refrigerator.  I may have initially intended to clean out the refrigerator - as in throw items away.  Instead I decided to clean it out by eating as much as I possibly could while standing in front of it.  I didn't even bother fixing a plate of food.  I just snacked right from the fridge like a poorly trained man.

I would tell you what I ate, but I don't want you to lose all respect for me.  Oh, hell, who am I kidding?

I had a fistful of garlic stuffed olives, four spoonfuls of cheese spread, a bite (or two) of mashed potatoes, a slice of pumpkin roll, a chunk of pork, and a diet coke.  Don't point out the irony, I'm well aware of it.

I would have stopped myself after the olives, but I'm kind of scared to come between me and cheese.

Had I been thinking clearly in December, I would have asked Santa for a muzzle. Or, at the very least, a little self-control.

Fudge Bisque

Have you ever tried fudge bisque?

Me neither.

I never even heard of it until the day I accidentally made it.

My intentions were good.
Give friends a bag of yummy goodies when they stop by during the holiday season.

So simple, right?
Very Martha Stewart-y of me, right?

W.R.O.N.G.

I swear on my favorite cookbook, I followed the instructions for the easy peanut butter and chocolate fudge.

I put 4 gazillion pounds of sugar, butter, marshmallow cream, and peanut butter in a large pot on the stove over medium heat.

The recipe is quite clear that under no circumstances should I stop stirring the sugary concoction.  I stir and stir and stir.  After the liquid sugar comes to a rolling boil, I am to continue stirring an additional five minutes.

Turns out, it takes the mountain of sugar quite a looooooong time to get to a boil.
So as I stir, while wearing layers of winter clothing, I begin to sweat.  It is winter, after all, so I'm dressed for the weather.  The outside weather.  I didn't realize I would be required to stir until nearly the new year. In addition to sweating, I realize how little upper arm strength I actually possess.  I mean, really, who knew stirring could be such a physically demanding experience?

Finally succumbing to the fact that it is no longer winter in my kitchen, I remove my first layer of clothing.  I drop the fleece by my feet so I won't need to stop stirring for even a moment.  Again, the directions are nearly threatening about the consequences of not stirring constantly.

The second layer of clothing comes off shortly thereafter.  I'm sure my refrigerator is enjoying this slow strip tease cooking experience.

When my husband comes home, he finds me by the stove in a T-shirt stirring 72 million calories of hot melted, sugar while standing near a pile of sweaters and fleeces.

He asks why I am standing on a pile of laundry, but I am too busy sweating and stirring to form an adequate response.  Quite frankly, we've been married so long I really think it is more of a rhetorical question.

Finally, the recipe instructs me to turn off the heat and stir in a bag of chocolate chips.  Obediently I do so.

The chocolate chips melt and I pour this gooey, sweet smelling concoction into a pan lined with foil and then I let it set.  I let it set overnight.

Imagine my surprise when I attempt to cut it in the morning only to discover it remains in a somewhat liquid form.

I have sweet friends who love sweet things so they seem utterly thrilled to watch me spoon their fudge bisque into holiday goodie bags.  Sadly, they'll need to supply their own straws to enjoy it.

Undaunted, I spoon the fudge into bowls for my children.  They, of course, each have a sweet tooth the size of Santa's sleigh.  As they slurp up the fudge, I am quickly crowned "best mom ever."

Now excuse me while I go drink some fudge.

Ho Ho Ho!

5 Essentials for a Bug Out Bag

That bitch Sandy got me thinking about the time my family was without power for all eternity countless days. (Check out Sociology Experiment Gone Bad if you want to glimpse that madness.)

This then got me thinking about survivalists and other people with whom I have nothing in common.

According to my research, a "Bug Out Bag" is a backpack filled with items you will need when you come face to face with Armageddon.  Survivalist seemingly love their BOBs (Bug Out Bags).Bug-Out Bag (Google Affiliate Ad)

As I understand it, rational people put things like bottled water, canned meat, weapons and a variety of seeds (since, of course, planting a garden following Armageddon is necessary.  Duh!).

I would argue that truly rational people don't even pack a "Bug Out Bag," but what do I know?

All of this to say, either way you look at it, I am not a rational person.

I now want to make a "Bug Out Bag," but mine will not contain water and canned meat.

After giving this a considerable amount of thought, and by that I mean a solid five minutes, I've come up with the 5 essential items to place in my "Bug Out Bag."

1.  Multiple bottles of wine
There's water in wine and it's also sort of like fruit.  I'm not packing a corkscrew so the wine will be in screw top bottles. Notice I am also not packing any cups. Cups would take up much needed space.

2.  Razors
Yes, a zombie might eat my face during a zombie apocalypse, but I refuse to die with hairy armpits.  Simply Venus Disposable Razor - 16 ct. - Shaving & Hair Removal (Google Affiliate Ad)

3.  Cheez Whiz 
I hate to admit it during non-Armageddon times, but when face to face with the end of times, I will totally own up to the fact that I'm a huge fan of processed cheese.  All cheese is good, of course, but it's hard to beat the goodness of a rich, thick processed cheese product... especially while drinking cheep wine right from the bottle.  Cheez Whiz (White) T-Shirt (Google Affiliate Ad)

4.  Aspirin
Wine can give me a headache. I can only assume that wine plus trying to survive the end of times will also give me a headache.

5.  Multiple bottles of wine
Seriously, can you ever have enough wine during an apocalypse?

For scarier other ideas about what to pack, google "Bug Out Bag" bag.

Don't say I didn't warn you!

Crack in a Crock

I am not a crackhead, but I think I now understand crackhead addictions.

I know I don't typically blog about recipes, but I've got to share this recipe with you.
You MUST make it, eat it, and then continue reading.

I admit I am taking liberty with the name, but the recipe is totally legitimate.

Crack in a Crock Dip

In a crockpot place the following items:

A bunch of cooked, shredded chicken
1 cup of ranch dressing
2 containers of cream cheese
1.5 -2 cups of shredded cheddar cheese
Hot sauce (I don't know how much.  It probably depends on how hot you want it to be.)

Turn crockpot on and cook for several hours until the delicious smell draws you to it like a fly to a big pile of horse dung.

You are now, no doubt, wondering why I don't write a food blog.  Clearly, I'm talented at this.

Once the crack in a crock is ready, get a a bag of chips or crackers.

If you're health conscious, grab some celery sticks.  Actually, if you're health conscious just stop reading and go away.  You are already judging me for the obscene amount of cheese in this recipe.  Haven't you realized life is too short not to eat cheese?  Cheese is good!

Ok, unhealthy conscious folks who I totally relate to, commence eating.

Start by putting one appropriately sized spoonful of crack in a crock on your plate.
Eat it with a chip in a civilized manner.

If you are like me, the feeling starts rather quickly.
The crack in the crock makes you start thinking like this:

It's sooooooooo very good that when others approach, tell them it tastes like total crap.  You don't want to share this goodness with anyone.  No sharing!

Add another spoonful to your plate, only this time make the spoonful at least three times the size of your first serving.  Eat the dip as quickly as possible so you can put more crack on your plate.
In fact, who really needs a plate?

Ditch the plate, grab a chip and use it as a spoon while standing over the crockpot. Remind yourself you are burning more calories by hovering over the crockpot than you would be if you were sitting down.

Now you will notice your eyes are darting around.

Is someone trying to eat your dip?
Hunch over the crockpot. Nobody's getting your crack in a crock.

Slowly reach over, unplug the crockpot and carry it to a private place. Might I suggest a bathroom or closet?  You need privacy.

While walking there you may get crack in a crock dip on your new shirt.  Don't worry.  You can lick and suck it off your shirt once you are in the privacy of your closet.

Eat all of the crack in the crock.

You WILL feel your arteries start to clog immediately, and you will actually feel the cells on your butt begin to multiply.

Despite all logic, you will absolutely want more crack in a crock.

Being an addict is tough!

The Essentials

Dear Family and Friends,

Last week Mother Nature went ape shit threw a temper tantrum of epic proportion.

She threw trees, branches, patio furniture, and then cried like she has never cried before. Making matters worse, like any toddler would, she decided to throw this fit just as our babysitter arrived. Hubby and I had been planning date night.

As my family stood in our dining room with our babysitter, we watched Mother Nature knock down a 30 foot tall tree and fling it towards our house. At that moment our power went off, and I ordered all of us to the basement.

An hour later, Mother Nature was in time out and the babysitter was sent home. The rest of us sat in the dark looking at one another. We became remarkably loving towards one another and patient. Near death experiences can do that to a family.

The next day we did what everyone else in our county decided to do. We went to the grocery store to buy "essentials." Power was out and we were being told it could be 5-7 days before it would be restored. This news is code for "go shopping."

Here's the great thing about "essentials": it's all in the eye of the beholder.
Since there were a mere 7200 people crammed into our local grocery store, I had plenty of time to look in other people's carts to see what they felt they needed in the coming days.

My favorite cart was pushed by a young man who clearly lived simply. His cart had 2 wine boxes and chips. Another woman had a cart loaded with grilling supplies, dog food and corn. I saw several carts full of practical things like water, bread, and peanut butter.

I was fascinated by all the varieties of cart content until I took a moment to look into my own cart. It was unquestionably the most bizarre. I had (and I really don't know why I'm compelled to share this) 2 cases of bottled water, 1 box of brown rice, 2 cans of black beans, 24 rolls of toilet paper, 2 rolls of paper towels, and toilet bowl cleaner.

Apparently, I was worried about dehydration and exploding bowels.

We all have our hang-ups, I suppose.

I hope the rest of you are fairing well.

Waiting for the Electricity Fairy to visit us as we enjoy our beans and rice comforted by the knowledge that we will have clean butts and toilets,

Jen
Days 1 & 2 of no electricity

Kim Kardashian Hates Food

Yes, I've had a little too much time on my hands. That never leads to anything good. While surfing the net in search of breaking news, I got the latest info on Kim Kardashian's struggles. Poor Kim!

Kim Kardashian reportedly said Indian food is "disgusting." Now everyone who loves Indian food hates her. In an effort to salvage her flawless reputation she further explained her comments by saying:

"In NO way was [my comment] intended as an insult to the Indian people or their culture. This is just my own personal taste. There are a lot of foods I don’t like . . . I hate cilantro and peppers, and there are definitely some Armenian foods that I personally find disgusting, but that doesn’t reflect my opinions on other Armenian people or my culture."

Frankly, her agent, publicist, mom, sisters, Kayne, should never let her try to further explain herself again. This is not her strong suit.

Now I'm even more annoyed by her than ever! What kind of person hates cilantro? I'm no Mayan, but I'm predicting an uprising of cilantro farmers and cilantro lovers. This could lead to the end of times.

Let's also take a moment and state the obvious. When I was surfing nonsense yesterday and typed "breaking news" into my search engine, I wasn't expecting to get the latest update on Ms. Food-Hater Kardashian. How is this breaking news?

One look at her figure, and any weight watching person can tell Kim Kardashian hates a variety of foods. I'm going out on a limb here, but I imagine she eats more of her words than any other thing on this planet. This is not breaking news.

In the end, I'm mostly annoyed because pepper loathing Kim has created in me an absolute unparalleled desire to eat my weight in Tandoori chicken with warm naan.

Stick a fork in me. I'm done.

Save the Chocolate Bunnies!

When my daughter was six years old, she sat down at dinner one night and proclaimed she was a vegetarian. One day she could very well be a vegetarian, but at six??
I tried not to panic since meat is a staple on our dinner table.

"A vegetarian? What's it mean to be a vegetarian?" I asked innocently.

"I don't eat whale."

"Well, you're in luck," I say. "This happens to be chicken, and I promise to never serve you whale."

"I don't eat any extinct animals, mom."

This is when I assured her that chickens are not going extinct, and I promised never to serve her whales, Bengal tigers, or African cheetahs.

With that, my daughter shrugged, picked up her fork, and gobbled up her chicken. So much for her brief foray into vegetarianism.

I am not a vegetarian. I can eat foods that have faces. Cow, chicken, fish. Mmmmmm. All good!

So someone please tell me why I whimper at the thought of eating a chocolate bunny?
I cannot do it.
I cannot even buy chocolate bunnies for my children.
I cannot do it.
I cannot and will not eat a chocolate bunny.

I'm not even sure I would know how. Do you bite off the ears first?
What sort of barbaric person can buy a darling, sweet chocolate Easter bunny and then bite off its ears?

I prefer to eat chocolate bars or chocolate in any shape that does not resemble that of a small bunny. I'm really not a chocolate snob. Just don't make me bite the head off a chocolate bunny. I cannot do it.

Let's consider the plight of chocolate bunnies this time of year.
They line the shelves in their cute little cardboard boxes. They wait innocently to be purchased. Easter morning arrives and the plastic is greedily removed, momentarily freeing them from their boxed captivity. Just when they think they might have an opportunity to bunny hop with their fellow chocolate bunnies, they are lifted into the air.

The the last thing they hear is someone biting off their ears. Then, in all likelihood, they remain earless until they are tossed into the trash because, let's be honest, chocolate bunnies are not the best tasting goodies in one's Easter basket.* Everyone knows the peanut butter eggs are the crown jewel of the Easter basket. As an aside, I have no moral qualms whatsoever ingesting my weight in chocolate peanut butter eggs. They are faceless chocolate ovals filled with goodness.

*Note: My husband claims chocolate bunnies are delicious and I don't know what I'm talking about.

To him and others I have only one thing to say.

Save the chocolate bunnies (and the whales, too)!

Super Super Bowl Stomach

Ahhh...Super Bowl Sunday.

This is the only day other than Thanksgiving when I can eat all the food imaginable without it counting towards a single Weight Watcher point.

Glorious, glorious Super Bowl Sunday!

For that reason alone it's a holiday, and I resent that we don't have the following Monday off. I need time to digest all of the high-caloric carbohydrates I will consume. My stomach literally becomes its own super bowl filled with an assortment of high caloric dips and chips.

Let me take a moment to share my Super Bowl menu. We will serve the following: wings, nachos, stuffed potato skins, artichoke dip, Doritos, cheesy fries, mozzarella sticks and....hmmm...I'm forgetting something. I'm sure it contains cheese.

No, we are not having a party. Our children are not invited to join us either.
My husband and I sequester ourselves in a room where he will watch football, and I will eat like I've not eaten since last year's Super Bowl.

Super Bowl Sunday is the one glorious day of the year when the world seemingly tilts on its axis. I eat every appetizer known to man, and I look forward to the commercials.

I eat with a fury that is actually frightening. Sadly, I'm usually bloated and stuffed 47 seconds after kickoff.

I fight to stay awake as the carb coma slowly tries to drag me into unconsciousness. My Super Bowl resolution today is to hold off on the quesadillas (that's what I forgot!) until the start of the second quarter. Not sure I can do it.

As for which team I want to see win? Who's playing?
I'm cheering for the commercials!

I'm a big supporter of commercials featuring athletic horses, singing dogs, or darling children doing darling things. Any commercial featuring Betty White will also work. If a commercial comes on that isn't funny or thought provoking, I risk slipping back into a food coma.

Really, any commercial other than the Big Daddy commercials are acceptable.
What's up with those soft porn commercials? I want the women to keep their shirts on and I don't want the commercial to include any references to farts or other bodily functions. I hear enough about that in my daily life.

Those belching and farting commercials have the potential to upset my very delicate stomach.
And I will have none of that!

Go Patriots!
(My hubby made me write that.)

Those Cookie-Pushing Girl Scouts!

They look so sweet dressed in their brown uniforms covered in badges. Doe-eyed with sugary sweet voices, they ask if you want to buy any Girl Scout cookies.

Do you want any Girl Scout cookies?    Ha!

There must be crack cocaine in those cookies and no reasonable, addicted adult can refuse the crispy goodness of a Thin Mint. The question isn't whether or not you want a box of Girl Scout cookies. The real question is how many cases of cookies can you order before you reveal your need for GSC Rehab (that's Girl Scout Cookie Rehabilitation for those of you who are clean).

You know you have a problem (and I'm just being hypothetical here) when you purchase the crack-cocaine cookies from various dealers...err...girl scouts in an effort to look less addicted. If you only buy 3 boxes from any one cookie-pusher, you look less addicted than if you buy...oh...I don't know...maybe three boxes from 9 different dealers...errrr...there I go again...girl scouts. You end up with 27 boxes of crack-cocaine cookies and nobody is the wiser.

Another sign that you may need intervention is when you bring home your 27 boxes, but you don't admit it to anyone. Sure you may share a couple boxes with your family because you are a generous person, but your addiction forces you to hide the remaining 25 boxes in various places like the freezer, laundry room, underwear drawer, and the linen closet. Again, this is purely conjecture on my part. Please don't ask to look in my underwear drawer.

I could pontificate on which cookies are the most addicting but let's just all agree that Thin Mints and Tagalongs have the highest crack concentration. I've researched this thoroughly.

However, the boxes cost a small fortune per serving. A box of Tagalongs really only contains one serving of cookies. Thin Mints may have 2-3 servings per box unless, of course, one is in the throws of PMS. Then we all know that one box isn't even a full serving of cookies.

My daughter is not a Girl Scout because the best dealers do not use themselves. I could not withstand the pressure of having to store and distribute cookies out of my home. I imagine most people would not be happy to have me deliver a half eaten box of cookies. You expect better from your dealer, right?

The irony is that we are less than 2 weeks into our New Year's resolutions to eat better, and we are being forced to anticipate how many cookies we will need to make it through the year. Those crack-cocaine cookies aren't delivered until March. They have to last until at least the holiday season when Christmas Cookies are plentiful.

How many boxes of crack-cocaine....errrr...cookies does one mother need? I figure 27 boxes could potentially last in my house from mid March through maybe the first week of April.

I suppose it goes without saying...If you know any cookie-pushing girl scouts, please send them my way!

Please Pass the Potatoes

What better time than the overindulgent holidays to pay tribute to my favorite food...the spud.

There is a delightful scene in "Forest Gump" when Forest's friend Bubba is listing all the various ways to prepare shrimp. This scene speaks to me because I have the same love affair with the potato. The potato is one of the most versatile foods. Imagine all the ways to enjoy a potato: baked, twice baked, scalloped, roasted, mashed, fried. Is your mouth watering yet?

The list could go on, but let's stop at the fried potato, specifically french fries.
Recently I was at a fast food establishment when the teenager behind the counter asked me, "Do you want fries with that?" I resisted the urge to ask him if anyone ever answers, "No."

Of course, I want fries with that!

To be more precise, I want a cheeseburger with my fries. In fact I'm only standing here in this fast food establishment for two reasons:

1. I am addicted to your greasy, calorie laden fries
2. My son is a huge fan of the chicken-like products you serve (exactly what part of a chicken is in the chicken nugget? Never mind, I digress).

The point is, who doesn't love french fries?

Well, blessedly, I do happen to know one person who doesn't love fries. He's my nugget addicted 8 year old son. I know this may sound horrible, and there is a part of me ashamed to admit it, but his aversion to fries is just one more reason why I love him. More fries for me!

There are so many different types of french fries. Prepare it skinny, curly, or Cajun. They are all good. The potato is one of those unique foods that actually makes other foods better. Today I actually encountered cheesy bread with fries baked on top! Never tasted cheesy bread so good! Cover a potato with butter, onion, cheese, chili, you name it, and suddenly you have a spud delicacy.

Want to know what else is good? Any food stuffed with potatoes. A perfect example is the perogi. If you've never had a perogi you need to immediately stop reading this and go eat one. Seriously, stop reading. GO EAT A PEROGI. I'll wait.

Wasn't it just about the best thing your mouth has ever experienced? A dumpling filled with potatoes and sautéed in butter and onions. Mmmmmmmmm. Let me just have a moment....... Delicious!

Holidays are a time to reflect on the blessings around us and to appreciate those we love. Clearly, you know what I'm thankful for this holiday season.

Now please pass the potatoes.