I know the, what, two of you who read this have probably never done this before...
But go look at nfl.com. Right now. I'll wait.
Yes. You saw that right. Its pink. For the next two weeks. 2 weeks! Apparantly the Commisioner has some ties to breast cancer so the league is doing a big breast cancer awareness/fundraiser. So everyone is going to be wearing pink. Pink on the referee uniforms, pink suits on the sidelines, pink pink pink! Weeeeeeeeeeee!
I can't think of any other organization - especially one that is SO male-dominated - that would be secure enough to pull this off. But kudos to the NFL on this one. Go boobies!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Jambalaya
Ok, no cake this time. Because this cake deserves documentation, and my camera is not being friends with my computer right now. So we'll come back to the cake later, maybe after I work off the 5lbs I gained eating it!
I've mentioned before that I like to cook on Sunday afternoons. D and I like to try new things on those days too - we've made dumplings, gnocchi, all sorts of goodness for the first time on Sundays. A few weeks ago I asked D what he wanted to make and he had one word for me: jambalaya.
Side note: This is why I love this man.
Anyway, neither of us have very much experience with jambalaya, and our version is less-than-authentic. He doesn't eat pork and I don't eat seafood so our meats were chicken and turkey sausage. Louisiana, I apologize. However inauthentic, it was still quite tasty!
Jambalaya
2 chicken breasts (1lb)
3 sausages (1lb)
extra virgin olive oil
1 can whole peeled tomatoes
2 onions
2 green peppers
6 celery stalks
Garlic
1/2 can tomato paste
6 green onion
chicken stock
salt and pepper
paprika
italian seasoning
cajun seasoning
4 bay leaves
1 can kidney beans
1 can black eyed peas
tabasco
3c rice
Saute chicken and turkey sausage with olive oil in a large pot until cooked through. Remove and drain meat. Saute chopped onion, pepper, and celery with garlic until onion is translucent.
Add tomatoes, tomato paste, beans, chicken broth and seasoning to pot. Season to taste.
Add rice. Cover and cook on medium heat until rice is done.
Return meat to pot. Serve warm.
I've mentioned before that I like to cook on Sunday afternoons. D and I like to try new things on those days too - we've made dumplings, gnocchi, all sorts of goodness for the first time on Sundays. A few weeks ago I asked D what he wanted to make and he had one word for me: jambalaya.
Side note: This is why I love this man.
Anyway, neither of us have very much experience with jambalaya, and our version is less-than-authentic. He doesn't eat pork and I don't eat seafood so our meats were chicken and turkey sausage. Louisiana, I apologize. However inauthentic, it was still quite tasty!
Jambalaya
2 chicken breasts (1lb)
3 sausages (1lb)
extra virgin olive oil
1 can whole peeled tomatoes
2 onions
2 green peppers
6 celery stalks
Garlic
1/2 can tomato paste
6 green onion
chicken stock
salt and pepper
paprika
italian seasoning
cajun seasoning
4 bay leaves
1 can kidney beans
1 can black eyed peas
tabasco
3c rice
Saute chicken and turkey sausage with olive oil in a large pot until cooked through. Remove and drain meat. Saute chopped onion, pepper, and celery with garlic until onion is translucent.
Add tomatoes, tomato paste, beans, chicken broth and seasoning to pot. Season to taste.
Add rice. Cover and cook on medium heat until rice is done.
Return meat to pot. Serve warm.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Pretending to be Jewish
I mentioned last week was Rosh Hashanah, but I wasn't done telling stories about it.
One New Year tradition is one of eating apples and honey. Together, they signify a blessing for a sweet new year. It is also traditional to eat challah, a Jewish egg bread, made in a special circular loaf (instead of its more familiar braid).
The area I work in is fairly Jewish. And by that I mean it has a Jewish population that is significant in LA, which is to say its pretty damn Jewish. There are a number of Jewish bakeries around my work, so I figured there would be no problem picking up a fresh loaf of challah on my lunch hour last Friday. I mapquested the closest one, only about a mile away from work, and was all set to make the quick trip over for my bread.
I was wrong.
As I was getting ready to head over to the bakery, a patient informed me she had just been there - and said it had taken her almost 2 hours to get her challah and her babka. Cue oh shit moment. I drove over and sure enough, the place was packed. I took my number - I was 96 and they were only helping number 32. But I was already there, so I waited. And waited. And waited.
There was no way they were getting to 96 before 12:30. I had almost given up hope when a nice lady tapped me on the shoulder and said "Don't you work for Doctor *@#&?" We wear pretty distinctive uniforms so I guess I was an easy spot. We started talking and when her number, 68, came up at 12:15 she offered to let me order with her. I ordered two loaves - plain and raisin - pulled out my money and told her I would like to please pay for her challah. She practically laughed at me and shooed me out the door and back to work.
This was awesome. And it would have been more awesome if I knew who the hell my challah fairy was. She had these big sunglasses on the whole time so I didn't recognize her... all I knew was that she was short, middle aged, Jewish, and the wife of a physician. Um... shit?
Back at work I was asking everyone who she could be - the doctor, the office manager, everyone. I left work Friday not being any closer to knowing who she was, but went home and blessed that challah and broke bread and ate it and said a little thank you for her generosity. Then promptly forgot about it.
Until she walked into our office on Tuesday afternoon to see the nutritionist. She walked by, I smiled like a dork not having a clue who she was until she asked me how the challah was. I jumped up and hugged her and did a little dance as she walked away. I think it was god's way of saying thank you for sitting through services by myself on Saturday :)
One New Year tradition is one of eating apples and honey. Together, they signify a blessing for a sweet new year. It is also traditional to eat challah, a Jewish egg bread, made in a special circular loaf (instead of its more familiar braid).
The area I work in is fairly Jewish. And by that I mean it has a Jewish population that is significant in LA, which is to say its pretty damn Jewish. There are a number of Jewish bakeries around my work, so I figured there would be no problem picking up a fresh loaf of challah on my lunch hour last Friday. I mapquested the closest one, only about a mile away from work, and was all set to make the quick trip over for my bread.
I was wrong.
As I was getting ready to head over to the bakery, a patient informed me she had just been there - and said it had taken her almost 2 hours to get her challah and her babka. Cue oh shit moment. I drove over and sure enough, the place was packed. I took my number - I was 96 and they were only helping number 32. But I was already there, so I waited. And waited. And waited.
There was no way they were getting to 96 before 12:30. I had almost given up hope when a nice lady tapped me on the shoulder and said "Don't you work for Doctor *@#&?" We wear pretty distinctive uniforms so I guess I was an easy spot. We started talking and when her number, 68, came up at 12:15 she offered to let me order with her. I ordered two loaves - plain and raisin - pulled out my money and told her I would like to please pay for her challah. She practically laughed at me and shooed me out the door and back to work.
This was awesome. And it would have been more awesome if I knew who the hell my challah fairy was. She had these big sunglasses on the whole time so I didn't recognize her... all I knew was that she was short, middle aged, Jewish, and the wife of a physician. Um... shit?
Back at work I was asking everyone who she could be - the doctor, the office manager, everyone. I left work Friday not being any closer to knowing who she was, but went home and blessed that challah and broke bread and ate it and said a little thank you for her generosity. Then promptly forgot about it.
Until she walked into our office on Tuesday afternoon to see the nutritionist. She walked by, I smiled like a dork not having a clue who she was until she asked me how the challah was. I jumped up and hugged her and did a little dance as she walked away. I think it was god's way of saying thank you for sitting through services by myself on Saturday :)
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Boom, Baby!
Hellooooooo there.
I've been inside all day. We only left the apartment to go to Fresh n Easy. I really love the beginning of football season. By the middle, though, yuk. And then the playoffs come around and I'm excited again. But right now I'm really enjoying holing up on the couch for a solid 3 games.
Especially when its been such a busy few weeks!
Luckily my job hasn't been keeping me late... actually, my boss is kicking me out right on time. He doesn't want to pay me overtime. But I LIKE overtime... but getting home at a good time is nice too :)
This Saturday was Rosh Hashanah, which is the Jewish New Year. We celebrated by going to services at the local Chabad (Jewish Community Center) and coming home for a nice meal. Services, though... they were interesting!
I've only gone to services with D a few times, including last Rosh Hashanah. Last year we went with his cousins to their synagogue, and it was a pretty laid back time. This year was, umm, a little more serious. We walked in to the hotel that was hosting and struck up a convo with the Rabbi who told us a little more about his way of doing things. He told us it was a nice mix of old and new traditions - a shorter service, in Hebrew, with a traditional seating arrangement.
Which means on opposite sides of the room.
.......AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..........
So to summarize what was to be going on: Non Jew in Rosh Hashanah services. Non Hebrew speaking person in a 90% Hebrew situation. No idea whats going on, what to do, or when to turn the page. And on the opposite side of the room from the only person she knows.
At that point in time I started having a mini breakdown. What was I going to do? But we picked up our prayer books, walked in, sat down and when the service began it wasn't so bad. We were quite close to each other and I'm pretty sure there was no pointing and laughing at me, so I must not have stood out too much. Whew.
The service was actually really cool. All of the Hebrew was more sung than spoken, and for such a punctuated language it was beautiful. It was really neat to sit in that room and think that this was the same way Jews have been celebrating this holiday for thousands of years - the same words, the same prayers, the same songs. I love learning about D's culture and religion, its so different than what I grew up on and such an important part of who he is. Its a neat experience for me to get to tag along and experience that too :)
Here's to another week - make it a good one!
I've been inside all day. We only left the apartment to go to Fresh n Easy. I really love the beginning of football season. By the middle, though, yuk. And then the playoffs come around and I'm excited again. But right now I'm really enjoying holing up on the couch for a solid 3 games.
Especially when its been such a busy few weeks!
Luckily my job hasn't been keeping me late... actually, my boss is kicking me out right on time. He doesn't want to pay me overtime. But I LIKE overtime... but getting home at a good time is nice too :)
This Saturday was Rosh Hashanah, which is the Jewish New Year. We celebrated by going to services at the local Chabad (Jewish Community Center) and coming home for a nice meal. Services, though... they were interesting!
I've only gone to services with D a few times, including last Rosh Hashanah. Last year we went with his cousins to their synagogue, and it was a pretty laid back time. This year was, umm, a little more serious. We walked in to the hotel that was hosting and struck up a convo with the Rabbi who told us a little more about his way of doing things. He told us it was a nice mix of old and new traditions - a shorter service, in Hebrew, with a traditional seating arrangement.
Which means on opposite sides of the room.
.......AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH..........
So to summarize what was to be going on: Non Jew in Rosh Hashanah services. Non Hebrew speaking person in a 90% Hebrew situation. No idea whats going on, what to do, or when to turn the page. And on the opposite side of the room from the only person she knows.
At that point in time I started having a mini breakdown. What was I going to do? But we picked up our prayer books, walked in, sat down and when the service began it wasn't so bad. We were quite close to each other and I'm pretty sure there was no pointing and laughing at me, so I must not have stood out too much. Whew.
The service was actually really cool. All of the Hebrew was more sung than spoken, and for such a punctuated language it was beautiful. It was really neat to sit in that room and think that this was the same way Jews have been celebrating this holiday for thousands of years - the same words, the same prayers, the same songs. I love learning about D's culture and religion, its so different than what I grew up on and such an important part of who he is. Its a neat experience for me to get to tag along and experience that too :)
Here's to another week - make it a good one!
Cuban Dinner
The actual Cuban name for this is Picadillo, but in my family it is simply known as Cuban Dinner. My whole extended family goes on vacation together quite a bit, and every time we are all together we convince my grandmother to make this. Though, I won't lie, its not much work to convince her :) My grandmother grew up in Cuba - my great grandfather was in the CIA and was based at Guantanamo. This is her recipe, based on what she ate in her childhood. Nowadays picadillo can be quite fancy, with potatoes or olives or capers or all sorts of yummy things mixed in, but this recipe is nice and simple. Just like Cuba, in the 30's.
Gran's Picadillo
1 lb ground beef
2 peppers
2 onions
Garlic
1 small can tomato paste
Red Wine
Cumin
Oregano
Black Beans
Rice
Brown beef in a large pan - it does not need to be done all the way, you'll be cooking it again. Remove beef from pan and saute chopped onions, peppers, and garlic. When the onions are done, remove 1/3 of the veggies and mix into the black beans. Return the beef to the pan with the remaining veggies. Add tomato paste plus 1 can-full each of water and red wine. Season to taste with cumin and oregano.
Serve with rice and black beans. My gran also serves with crusty bread or crackers.
Gran's Picadillo
1 lb ground beef
2 peppers
2 onions
Garlic
1 small can tomato paste
Red Wine
Cumin
Oregano
Black Beans
Rice
Brown beef in a large pan - it does not need to be done all the way, you'll be cooking it again. Remove beef from pan and saute chopped onions, peppers, and garlic. When the onions are done, remove 1/3 of the veggies and mix into the black beans. Return the beef to the pan with the remaining veggies. Add tomato paste plus 1 can-full each of water and red wine. Season to taste with cumin and oregano.
Serve with rice and black beans. My gran also serves with crusty bread or crackers.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Haircut.
Its time. I'm sad, but its time.
I'm thinking short. And more blonde. Like Reese Witherspoon:
I'm thinking short. And more blonde. Like Reese Witherspoon:
What do we think?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Adventures in Grilling
You may think that its all fun and games being with someone who works for the The League. You may think its all meeting players, going to League functions, and getting free stuff. You may think that free rent is actually free, and free cars come without strings attached.
Most of the time, you would be right. But this week, ohhhhhh, this week. You are wrong.
This is a big big week for The League. This is a very important night, too. So this week poor D has worked his little butt off. He has spent multiple 12 hour days at the office. On his lunch hour he has been leaving his department to go help another. He has only eaten dinner before 9 when The League has brought it in for him and his fellow laborers. I have seen the boy for a grand total of 4 hours since Monday. I feel bad for him. And for me.
Take tonight for example. For dinner I decided to make myself some chicken kabobs with an orzo salad. Sounds delicious, right? The only problem in my way was the grill. D is our resident grill master - I grew up on charcol and I just don't know how to work these fancy gas contraptions. But the kabobs, they called to me. Besides, how hard could it be? Fire + food = cooked food. Its an equation our monkey ancestors could solve; why couldn't I?
The cooking part went well. So did the eating.
The part that didn't go well was not burning my arm on the 350 degree grill. And then again on the kabob skewer.
From now on I'm going to leave the grilling to the grill master.
PS, Dear boyfriend... come home soon.
Most of the time, you would be right. But this week, ohhhhhh, this week. You are wrong.
This is a big big week for The League. This is a very important night, too. So this week poor D has worked his little butt off. He has spent multiple 12 hour days at the office. On his lunch hour he has been leaving his department to go help another. He has only eaten dinner before 9 when The League has brought it in for him and his fellow laborers. I have seen the boy for a grand total of 4 hours since Monday. I feel bad for him. And for me.
Take tonight for example. For dinner I decided to make myself some chicken kabobs with an orzo salad. Sounds delicious, right? The only problem in my way was the grill. D is our resident grill master - I grew up on charcol and I just don't know how to work these fancy gas contraptions. But the kabobs, they called to me. Besides, how hard could it be? Fire + food = cooked food. Its an equation our monkey ancestors could solve; why couldn't I?
The cooking part went well. So did the eating.
The part that didn't go well was not burning my arm on the 350 degree grill. And then again on the kabob skewer.
From now on I'm going to leave the grilling to the grill master.
PS, Dear boyfriend... come home soon.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
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