Happy Food

Our prompt for today is- What food always makes you feel happy while you’re eating it?

hmmm this is difficult…. there are TONS of foods that make me feel happy when I’m eating them. I’ll list my favorites.

1. My dad’s stuffing- This is probably my favorite food in existence. I think I need to start asking for this as a birthday meal, and we should definitely eat it more than just on Thanksgiving. He uses sourdough bread, dried cherries, granny smith apples, pork sausage, mushrooms, and a ton of other beautiful ingredients.

2. My chicken noodle soup- I use this recipe, but I add a hefty amount of butter to saute the onions, and I use egg noodles instead of cavatelli. It’s more of a stew than a soup, and the chicken thighs are pure magic- do not use white meat!! I make it probably once a week.

best. soup. ever.

best. soup. ever.

3. This bolognese sauce, over noodles, polenta, or nothing. It’s delicious enough to eat like soup.



4. Chocolate chip cookies, preferably home made (with dark chocolate chunks) or from this bakery. Optimally, these would be shared with a friend or family member over a cup of coffee or tea. Naturally, chocolate chip cookies are delightful, and hanging out with people I like is delightful, but the combination is downright bliss.

food porn

food porn

Summary: (simple carbohydrates x 2) + fat + handmade magic + good people = happy food.



Prompt: What is the one skill you see in other bloggers that you wish you had?


Some people- not just bloggers- have this amazing talent of turning any mundane thing into a story. Not just a story, a Story.

I don’t know how they do it! It’s amazing! I find myself retelling the most fantastic events- things that happen that are basically stories (with the whole arc thing, ect) that don’t even need editing- in the most flat, bland, boring way….

Like this: Once, we had a dog, and it ate a rock, and died.

THIS IS A TRUE STORY PEOPLE! A truly excellent story that requires little to no embellishment or exaggeration. It has drama, tragedy, comedy… and yet, I have never successfully delivered it. In fact, my repeatedly poor delivery has become somewhat of a “tag” among my friends group. Whenever someone tells a story that falls flat, another will inevitably chime in- “and then I ate a rock and died.”

So, all you talented tale-tellers, tell me your secrets!


2014-07-21 12.01.53     The weekly photo challenge at the Daily Prompt this week is “minimalism.” Jon and I went to the Cook Islands for our honeymoon… The Cook Islands are a 9 hour direct flight from LAX, and eons away from “real life.” Because of the remoteness of the islands, internet (wireless and *gasp* dial-up), phones and television were essentially nonexistent. It. was. heaven. It took some getting used to though… having a gorgeous meal without the ability to act on the impulse to instagram it, or surviving a rainy afternoon without the flickering distraction of blogs and forums and pinterest. We quickly discovered that distraction-free living suits us though. All I’ll ever need- two palm trees, a big hammock, the ocean, and my hammocking partner. Bliss. We get to go on another honeymoon on our anniversary, right?


Never do shrooms or LSD

Today’s daily prompt is to share a “second-hand story” that happened recently. Many of my/our friends are excellent story-tellers, crafting hilarious mini TED talks out of the most mundane of occurrences. For whatever reason, this (very old, very unimportant and irrelevant) story kept on popping up during my prompt-pondering sessions today. So, I will share it.

I had two friends in college (about a decade ago… yeesh!) that were intensely creative and unattainably brilliant. These men were absolute best friends with each other (platonically), and lovely (platonic) “fringe” friends of mine. ANYWAYS. One of these geniuses was a music major and was composing pieces that were super-famous (honestly I didn’t really pay attention, but it sounded like a big deal at the time), and the other was a hot-shot in the Econ department but was an incredible writer and had successfully published prose in some national publications. Basically, they were undergrad gods.

They also adored experimenting with drugs. Somehow, they were able to hold down impressive internships, preside over college clubs, and dazzle professors with their genius all while nursing a daily marijuana habit, and dabbling in “sexier” mind-altering substances on the side. (I did not have any interest or experience in the drugs they were doing, so there are going to be key details of this story that will absent. Essentially, take all of this with a grain of salt*)

ANYWAYS. One weekend, these two buddies obtained a new substance (LSD or mushrooms? yikes, either sounds terrible). They were SO PSYCHED, because they had heard that they would be brilliantly creative and extraordinarily amazing while on this drug: One would craft entire SYMPHONIES! The other would rescue the electoral college! Cure capitalism! And our two-party system!! ALL OF THE THINGS. The week leading up to their designated two-man brainstorm/revolution, they were giddy with glee. They secured housing, prepared food, and organized their academic materials. Their academic materials consisted mainly of Great Works of Literature- to inspire elevated thought, as well as mathematics and economics textbooks- to provide cold formulas and logic to their experiences, and  blank music staffs- to provide space for the impending Next Great Symphony.

Ingestibles were ingested, the hours whipped into a frenzy, and soon enough the two triumphant travelers emerged to share their grand discoveries.

We expected them to emerge from the chambers triumphantly, with chapters and chapters of the next great American novel hammered out in frenetic, Keruoacian prose. Instead they limped forth with two high school algebra textbooks in tow. When we questioned them about the minutae of the weekend, they shrugged… neither of them remembered anything, except for the rush they both felt while they were writing their brilliant revelations… The sharp, clear, unflinching morning sun recounted a different sight. The stacks of paper and music staff were left untouched and empty… Yet, they had scrawled on every. single. page of two entire algebra textbooks, “macaroni and cheese.”  Over, and over, and over. This cryptic message was interspersed with “666” and crude drawings of genitalia, but the predominant message was “mac n cheese.”

There is no accurate way to portray the utter tragedy that was painted on the faces of these two gentlemen… however, the stark contrast of their constant state of “win”, and the reality of their meticulously planned weekend was remarkable and mind-blowingly hilarious.

This post does not do this second-hand-story justice





*Isn’t “salt” a drug too? Or, “bath salts”? I think I’ve seen a PSA about it… NOTHING IS SACRED ANYMORE





<a href="http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/second-hand-stories/">Second-Hand Stories</a>


Time warps

The “Daily Prompt” today is about “pace oddities” in our daily lives… Would I rather speed up a period of my day that normally drags? Or slow down a period that zips by?

There is about a three and a half hour gap in between when I leave my classroom and when my husband (Jon) gets home from work. These empty hours (minutes, really) crawl. And worse, they taunt me with everything else I should be doing- wedding thank you notes! last week’s laundry! preparing a spectacular and brilliant dinner! writing a novel! reading a novel!- I could accomplish SO MUCH AWESOME STUFF in this “short” time frame. Instead, I wallow in self-pity, listlessly moving clutter from pile to pile, or procrastinating all of the things by wandering aimlessly through the aisles of Target, buying more clutter to put into another pile. THESE HOURS. I would give almost anything* to be able to fast-forward through these hours.


I do a lot of playing with these guys too

However, there is another two-to three hour window of time that I would tinker with, if given the opportunity. Our evenings, when Jon does get home, fly by with a bizarre speed. We can unintentionally pass an hour of time while I’m standing at the stove (he sits at the kitchen table, one or both dogs on his lap), caramelizing onions and chatting about our days. Sharing our wins and challenges, revelations and utter non-sequiturs (“Hey babe, I think you weigh as much as a tank of gas in my car [enter mathematical calculation behind his revelation here]”) are invariably one of the highlights of my day. Even if we spend these hours curled up on the couch with our wolf-pack, watching silly/mindless TV and dozing off, these hours are unfairly fleeting.


why do cozy things have to end??


I am formally requesting a time-warp.



*except actually be a productive human, apparently. I’ve heard that tackling real-live tasks is a highly rewarding and time-consuming endeavor. Maybe I’ll try it one day.

<a href=”http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/pace-oddity/”>Pace Oddity</a>