She Lives!

Okay, yes, a bit melodramatic considering most of you see me in other social media. But I had a recipe eureka! moment this morning, and had to share with all of you.

Our family’s New Year’s Day tradition involves-drum roll-food. Basically it’s all you can eat apps all day. Lil smokies in grape jelly/chili sauce, meatballs in sauce (today it’s Korean Bulgogi), deviled eggs, relish tray, dips, cheese, crackers etc. DH had to go out to grab more milk and asked me to text him if I needed other things. While he was out, I had a snap craving: Pinwheels! You know the kind, cream cheese wrapped up in flour tortillas with little bits of tasty goodness like red peppers or lunchmeat or what have you? So I texted flour tortillas and scallions to DH.

He came home, and oops! No flour tortillas! No scallions! What??? He showed me his phone. All my texts came through except that one! Curses technology! (You might be thinking however, about how wait a minute, aren’t you supposed to be GF? Yes I am, but sometimes cravings will not be denied.)

He offered to go back out, but what kind of woman do you think I am? The roads suck, the temps are negative a billion degrees; I told him we’d make do.

Then I had an inspiration. I already had the cream cheese, some red pepper, some yellow pepper, some black olives. I added green olives. And ranch dressing mix. I also had crispy romaine hearts in my fridge, and the idea was born! And they’re GF!


I don’t know if they’ll hold up for a couple hours in the fridge before they get wilty, but fingers crossed. At least I enjoyed all the tasty ends I cut off. I basically made each one an inch wide and you can use the romaine ribs as a little handle. Nifty!IMG_20180101_113129

Pop T*rts Are From the Devil

I banned DH from purchasing Pop T*rts. This is what happens. Someone is at the grocery hungry, a huge no-no, everyone knows. Pop T*rts always seem like a good idea. They’re sweet, full of carbs, easy to prepare, (no one in my family toasts them) and quick. Then the kids see the box of Pop T*rts in the cereal cupboard, and get all excited. The wrappers are easy to open; they tear soundlessly out of their foil-like paper.

Then I find the detritus of half-eaten ‘toaster pastries’ on the kitchen table. Do I leave it so that a hungry little person can finish it later? Are they going to finish it later? I’m uncertain. If I toss it, another package of two will be opened. If I leave it, another package of two will be opened, because the person won’t remember if the half-eaten one on the table is theirs.

I go into the living room. Will you look at that? There is the forensic evidence of a violently dismembered Pop T*rt all over the floor. The insides of the Pop T*rt stick to the carpet.  I think I’m going to be sick.

Cursing, I pick up the flotsam and tartsum from off the floor and throw it away. I find the wrappers strewn under the couch and the rocking chair. I find some Pop T*rt goo on the cushions. Disgusted, I start ranting to no one in particular. “Pop T*rts are from the Devil! No one is allowed to bring this stuff into the house again!”

I make a decision. All unattended Pop T*rts will be consigned to the trash without argument.  My righteous anger is unassailable. I dare kids to complain. And yet I hear nothing. No one cries about their missing Pop T*rt. No one exclaims that they weren’t finished yet. As it turns out, no one misses that food. As it turns out, they don’t really like Pop T*rts enough to finish their first one, let alone start the second one.

In a state of piqued hunger, I found one that someone, probably DH because he is thrifty like that, had put in a zip-top baggie. What the heck, I thought. I took it out and took a big bite. It was dry on the outside, and gooey and sweet on the inside. One bite was enough. They’re not really that good. I tossed it without guilt. I think this is proof that the easy way is not the best way. That is why I think Pop T*rts are from the Devil.