Tag Archive: cooking


I made something in the kitchen today other than a small fire.

I know, you’re proud. I can hear your applause right now.

Now, this is something we usually only make in the fall, but, dude, I got home from work tonight and was like I NEED PUMKIN CAKE RIGHT NOW ASAP so I just fuckin’ did it. And let me tell you, it’s as good as I remember from November.

I didn’t think to take pictures while I was in the process of actually making it, but when I went to eat it, I decided it was too good to just hoard and not share with you.  So, here, my friends, is a delicious recipe for a lovely fall dessert.

(It just isn’t seasonally appropriate anymore, but whatevs, I still dig it.)

Ingredients:

  • 1 can Evaporated Milk
  • 3 Large Eggs
  • 1 ¼ tsp Cinnamon
  • ½ tsp Nutmeg*
  • ½ tsp Salt
  • 1 cup Sugar
  • 1 can Pumpkin (13 oz)
  • 1 pkg Yellow Cake Mix
  • ½ cup butter (softened/melted)
  • 1 carton Cool Whip (or other whipped topping)

Instructions:

  1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit
  2. Mix evaporated milk, eggs, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, sugar, and pumpkin in a bowl.  Pour mixture into a greased and floured 9 x 13 pan.
  3. Mix cake mix with ½ cup melted butter.
  4. Crumble cake/butter mixture on top of pumpkin mixture.
  5. Bake at 350 for 40 minutes.
  6. Let cool.
  7. Serve with Cool Whip (or other whipped topping).
  8. ZOMG Yum!

Oh, heavens to Betsy, No! You MUST add the Cool Whip! It’s just not the same without it!!

Oh, yes, yes, yes!! That’s the ticket!!

Excuse me while I go enjoy my pumpkin cake!!

*”Oh, Meg, my little flower, my little bird, my little Nut Meg!”

Name that movie!!

Have a wonderful holiday weekend!!

So, I went out on the town with a couple girlfriends last weekend. It was the first time I did something social on the weekend in a month. I’m not kidding.

Oh, except for the weekend before, when the two other legs of the tripod came to my house and we stayed in and watched movies in our jammies.

Anyway.

For this night out, I made jello shots. It was the first time since junior year of college that I had anything to do with jello shots. I think a few years apart did some good. I wasn’t as irresponsible this time as I was when I was 20 years old. Well, irresponsible in the sense that I didn’t black out and throw up for two days.  There was no blacking out nor was there vomit this time. Just other… less-than-wise decisions were made.

I’m putting last Saturday night in the win column.

It seems that the only things I can successfully create in the kitchen are alcohol-related.

Without further ado…

ZOMG Yum!

  • 6 ounces of Jello (the big box!)
  • 16 ounces boiling water
  • 6 ounces cold water
  • 10 ounces alcohol

I used Bacardi Razz, obviously, to go with my raspberry jello but you can use whatever flavor jello and kind of alcohol you like!

The first thing I did was boil some water. I didn’t watch the pot the whole time, though, because we all know a watched pot never boils. (hahaha)

Then I poured the boiling water into a big measuring cup.

Next, I dissolved the jello dust into the boiling water.

Once the jello was completely dissolved, I poured in the cold water and my alcohol of choice.

PRETTY!!!

While the water was boiling, I set up the little cups the mixture was going to be going into.

I used the smallest little Dixie cups I could find. I put them in a cake pan type thingy to keep them all in one place and to cut down on the mess I was inevitably going to make.

I filled each cup a little less than half-full.

Told you I’m a mess-maker.

It was after this that I realized that using a ladle would be way easier.

This proved to be much easier. And less messy.

Once all of this alcoholic liquid was poured (or ladled) into the tiny cups, I was done! It was time to refrigerate those little babies.

pretty!!!!

I didn’t remember to get (attractive) pictures of them when we were consuming them. I did, however, manage to snipe a pic of Chiefy for you. He has a weird thing happening with his eyes, so we can pretend that it’s because he’s drunk/hungover even though it was mostly that I woke him up from a little catnap because he looked too cute for words all curled up on his blankie.

how cute is he!?!? Crazy eyes and all!

I didn’t make any resolutions for the New Year. I never do.

But something I do want to work on is learning how to cook.  My mom’s a really great cook and I really love The Pioneer Woman and she cooks.  I feel like it’s something I should learn to do.

I also don’t think I can get away with being a terrible cook my whole life.

Perhaps it’s not that I’m a bad cook, it’s just that I don’t cook. And lately, every time I attempt to do anything in the kitchen, I might as well just put money in the trash or light it on fire.  Either way, it’s a waste.

Well, friends, I’m about to work on that.  I’ll be fending for myself for almost two weeks and that means that I asked my mom a fuck-ton of questions on how to prepare food.  I have a feeling I’ll probably try to bite off more than I can chew and end up setting the kitchen on fire. That, or I’ll just end up eating cereal and cheese for two weeks.

I can’t be a baby forever, I guess.

Oh, and on an unrelated note, I had a complete nerd-alert moment last week.  I gave two grammar lessons on split infinitives. Each time, it was like I might as well have been talking to a pile of sweaters. I only mean that both parties were neither excited to learn about split infinitives nor were they particularly impressed with my knowledge of split infinitives.  Talking to a pile of sweaters would have elicited the same response: silence.

Now, split infinitives really aren’t a big deal. In fact, they’re not frowned upon like they used to be. But I encountered one in the group project I was working on last week for my finance class.  In one of the sections of our paper that one of my group members had written, I found one. I saw it and was like, oh heeeellllllll nahhhh.

So I changed that shit.

But the cherry on top of this story is that the next day, after I had provided my co-worker with a grammar lesson on split infinitives, I was watching Peter Pan. At the end, Captain Hook is surprised by something Peter does and shouts an exclamation.  Can you guess what his exclamation was?

“Split my infinitives!”

Ohhhhh yeahhhh.

I’m using that from now on.

We here are all fairly familiar with crazy.

I know this to be true because when you stop by Adventures from Grandma’s Attic (which, incidentally, is no longer really applicable as a title… hm, I should remedy that….) you get regular doses of crazy from this girl. You get to read all about my tendency to talk to animals, how I get overly emotional on a whim at seriously random shit, the irrational fears I possess, my paranoia about death, the blunders I have had in the kitchen, and various other bouts of crazy.

This kind of crazy is totally okay with me. I even like it.  I’m quite fond of my brand of crazy.

I’ll even be fair and say that Britney Spears’ brand of crazy, while scary and unfortunate (lest we forget the shaving of the head, the attacking of that SUV with an umbrella, and the weird “friendship” with Sam Lufti), didn’t even deter me from being a fan.

I’m an equal-opportunity fan of crazy.

The brand of crazy I’m not okay with? Tom Cruise.

Sell crazy someplace else, we're all stocked up here!

Ick.

Seriously.

Gross.

Dude, something about that couch-jumping incident just turned me off. Scientology also kinda freaks me out. I don’t know too much about it, but it seems a little cult-ish. Also, who the fuck divorces Nicole Kidman?! Back in the day, when she wasn’t addicted to Botox, she was going places and she was gorgeous. You don’t just bail on that. Unless you’re an insecure prick… Just sayin’.

With all this said, you might be surprised to know that it seems that I have come down with a case of the I-Heart-Tom-Cruise-Movies-And-Can’t-Seem-To-Get-Enough’s.

It started out innocently enough.

A few weeks ago, we bought Knight & Day on Blu-Ray. It had just been released and I was planning on staying in one Saturday night (story of my life!).

That same day, we bought Jerry Maguire on Blu-Ray because we didn’t own it.

Last weekend, I watched Top Gun for the first time.

Uhm, hello, why did NO ONE tell me Goose dies?! I HAD NO IDEA!! It was the kind of devastation I faced when I saw Up Close & Personal for the first time when I found out that Robert Redford’s character died and Michelle Pfeiffer was devastated. Oh. Em. Gee. It’s just heartbreaking. If you haven’t seen it, I apologize for ruining the movie for you, but you simply must see it. You’ll love it. I know it!

Anyway, yeah. Goose. Shit, that was sad! I really thought that it was just a love story that made Take my Breath Away really popular. I didn’t know it was an epic bromance movie too! Oh, be still my beating heart, I love bromances! They’re precious.

That brings us to today: I bought A Few Good Men from Target for $5. I love $5 movies. And A Few Good Men is a great fucking movie. I watched it the second I got home today.

And now, because I ate way too much cookie dough when I made chocolate chip cookies this afternoon, and I consumed a great amount of chocolate, I just have the need to watch Jerry Maguire.

Pretty soon I’m gonna have to go buy Rain Man, because that’s a great movie too. And Risky Business because I haven’t’ seen that and now’s as good a time as any.

It would seem that I’m a Tom Cruise fan. Officially. And there’s really not a whole lot I can do about it. It just happened.

But I’d just like to reiterate: he freaks me out.

Just moments ago, Tam came inside saying something about how Chief was munching on some frozen dog food.

Only, Drew and I were enthralled in season 6 of Grey’s Anatomy on dvd (which he got for Christmas) and Tam is making pot roast for dinner (ew) and the pressure cooker was making that obnoxious noise it makes from that little knob on the top of the lid. It was difficult to hear and I was only half listening.

Turns out Tam was saying that Chief was outside eating some frozen dog poop.

Yeah. You read that right.

Frozen dog poop.

My dog eats his own poop.

He is BEYOND precious

Can I just say….

What the fuck?

In fact, there are a few things that I say what the fuck to because of Chief.

He’s quite peculiar.

Like yesterday, Nikki came over with her family and brought her dog Sally. Chief and Sally became fast friends and played together allllll afternoon. But when they played, Chief kept trying to sit on Sally. They would bite each other ears and run around but then Chief would whip around and put his butt on her.

What is that about?

And Chief really enjoys being wet.

He found an open spot on the otherwise frozen lake and hopped right in. Just decided he’d take a dip. Then he got out, rolled in the snow and got back in the water. And then he cried at the door when it started raining the other day because Michigan weather is outrageous and it went from being freezing cold outside to 52 degrees and raining. He cried at the door because he wanted to go outside and sit in the rain.  He just sat there. Hangin’ out in the rain. And just yesterday, when I turned around to let him in from being outside, I was surprised to see him soaking wet. It wasn’t raining and the ground wasn’t even wet anymore. But then I realized that the cover to the grill had been on the floor of the deck and there had been a puddle and some ice on it. Chief had found it and rolled in it, effectively covering himself in water.

It seems we have figured out if he likes water or not.

Sure, you hear golden retriever and think that of course he’ll like water. But let me just tell you, Ruby, the golden retriever at my dad’s house, does not like water and does not enjoy swimming and being soaking wet like my Chiefy poo does.

I’m so happy we have a dog again.

I was going to try my hand at a domestic skill today.

Actually, I did try my hand at a domestic skill today. It wasn’t just an intention; I actually did it.

I planned on taking pictures of this foray into “cooking” and provide a little how-to for all of you to be able to try out the easiest little snack ever.

And when I say planned, I actually mean that I did take pictures.  But then… well, then I stopped taking pictures.

Please note that I did just say that this was the “easiest little snack ever.”

Well, let’s just get into this. And you’ll see what happened.

Here’s what you need:

Easiest. Snack. Ever.

Chocolate kisses, pretzels and M&Ms. That’s seriously it.

So, here’s a very important step. You must unwrap the chocolate kisses.

Next, you must place the pretzels onto a cookie sheet. Any size cookie sheet will do. And you don’t have to be as anal as I was about the placement of the pretzels but they should not overlap.

Once you’ve placed your pretzels on your cookie sheet, top each pretzel with a Kiss.

Okay, here’s where I stopped taking pictures.

I thought I was doing everything right. I had the oven set to 300 degrees Fahrenheit and I let the pretzel/kiss combo hang out for a couple minutes.

What is supposed to happen is that the Kiss will soften just enough that it is easy to push an M&M onto the top of it and it’ll smush down just the tiniest bit. Then you let them hang out to cool down and harden into one pretzel/kiss/M&M creation. Then you eat and enjoy.

But, uhm, that didn’t happen for me.

When I went to push an M&M onto one of the kisses, it didn’t work. There was no smush. The kiss was still hard. I thought I hadn’t waited long enough. Maybe a minute isn’t long enough.  So I put it back in the oven. And when I tried again, it still wasn’t soft enough. So then I turned the temperature of the oven up.  Like, way up. (I don’t know why I thought that was the best idea! Domestic skills clearly are not an instinct I possess!!) A minute later, I went to check on them and push an M&M into a kiss and ohhhhh no.

The chocolate had totally burned. And everything looked… not right.

I think it was just moments short of catching fire, to be honest.

So I looked at it and felt disappointed in myself. Then I threw it away and gave up.

In preparing for my trip to Philadelphia (alone, because my travel buddy bailed and had to stay home to work all weekend 😦 sad face for me) I had to do laundry.

I read, you know? I read other blogs. And I read books. And it’s all, like, girly stuff. Stuff about relationships and being a mom and cooking and shiz. You know, all stuff that doesn’t apply to me since I’m not in a relationship, I’m not a mom, I have no domestic skills and consider getting a box of triscuits out of the pantry cooking.  But don’t judge. It’s my life. I can read what I want. You’re not the boss of me.

Anyway.  Laundry. Even though I know that laundry is a universal thing, you know, something everyone has to contend with, a lot of what I read about laundry is women (usually older than me) bitching about it.

I’m not mad about it. Go ahead and bitch. More bitching I say.

In fact, if I had to do laundry that didn’t belong to me, I’d probably bitch about it too.

fancy, fancy machines! I love the buttons! They make little noises!

And if I had little mess-makers who are noisy and get dirty, like really dirty, I’d probably hate laundry too.

If I had to fold tiny things that are hard to fold, like tiny pants and onesies and bibs and stuff, like Nikki does or like other moms on the internet, I’d be irritated.

If I had a husband who was clumsy and spilled shit all over his shirt or if I had a significant other (whose laundry I was responsible for doing) who changed outfits four times a day (like I do sometimes), I would be irritated.

If that was the case, I would bitch about laundry. I would be annoyed with how it never ends.  I’d be irritated that things don’t fold easily and look nice when it’s all said and done. I would probably be overwhelmed by how often I move items between the washer and the dryer. I’d probably hate the makers of all of this laundry as I sorted it into different piles.

But, alas, it’s just me.

Just my laundry.

So when it comes time for me to do laundry (read: when I run out of underwear- and trust me, I have a lottttt so it takes a looong time before I muster up the courage to partake in a domestic skill), I don’t really have anyone to blame but myself.

And I really enjoy sorting my clothes into color piles. I can examine how big each of the piles are and be like Damn, how do I have that much clothing?!

And then I enjoy pushing the buttons on the washing machine. And measuring out the soapy stuff and sniffing the fabric softener.

I enjoy dedicating hours to laundry. Because while my clothes are being washed and dried, I can chill out and watch The West Wing or Grey’s Anatomy under the guise that I’m doing laundry, or I’m waiting for my clothes to dry. That I couldn’t possibly leave or run errands or something because God forbid my clothes would wrinkle. And you would be correct in assuming I don’t know how to operate an iron.

The best part, though, is folding. I really, really love folding my laundry. There’s something about seeing a perfectly folded shirt or matching up my socks. I love it.

I guess we can add laundry to the list of reasons why I’d make an excellent wife someday. (lolz) Sure, it may be the only thing right now on that list but that’s fine since I have no marriage proposals on the horizon. Also, I’m not really interested in being a domestic goddess. Carrie Bradshaw did just fine in life and she kept sweaters in her oven.

For Halloween weekend, Seneca and I did something special.

We made Skittle Vodka.

It was a couple weeks ago that I read one of Barefoot Foodie‘s posts and immediately knew that it was something I needed to do.

It was something I had never heard of and I was a little embarrassed that I didn’t think of it myself. Regardless, when I saw it, I knew I needed to enlist someone to do this with me. Seneca was just the girl.

While I was going by the instructions I had found and making vodka with the regular version of skittles, Seneca opted to make her batch of skittle vodka out of the tropical kind.

I posted a preliminary picture of this activity on my facebook page the day I started this project.

Ohhhh, yes!!

What I Used:

  • 2 big bags of skittles
  • (just over) a fifth of vodka (any kind will do!)
  • four plastic bottles
  • measuring cup
  • 4 glasses
  • lots and lots of coffee filters

I sorted each of the colors into cutesy plastic cups we had in the basement. One of the “recipes” we found said that only 60 skittles were necessary per 6 ounces of vodka but I just used 2 whole bags.  I started out by counting but decided it was a waste of time since I didn’t intend on wasting the leftover skittles.

Once they were all sorted, I sniped a pic because I like when things are organized. The purple ones are in a different cup because they were being rejected. I hate grape flavored things.

I should mention that I poured about 7 ounces of vodka into each of the plastic containers. Once all the skittles were sorted by color, I dumped the skittles into the vodka. Right away, the color started dissolving off of the skittles. Every time I walked by them, I gave each of the plastic bottles a good shake to help the candy dissolve.  It takes a while for the skittles to dissolve all the way. I let mine sit overnight.  Actually, they probably sat for a little over 24 hours.

Once all the candy was dissolved I began the long, long project of straining the skittle vodka mixture. You can see in my picture that I used hair ties to secure the coffee filters around the glasses and poured a little bit of the vodka in each glass. If you plan on making skittle vodka, I suggest you make sure you have plenty of time to strain your vodka. It took a long time and it’s a messy job. (Or I’m a child and always end up making a mess. Or, I’m a shit show and no matter what I do, I always end up sticky and covered in vodka. Either one.)

I don’t know if you’re supposed to strain it more than once, but I only strained mine once. I didn’t have any more patience by the time it was done with the first round. The most important thing is just to make sure it’s not lumpy and that you don’t have any white stuff floating around. (That sounds disgusting.)

Oh, I also changed coffee filters often.

I don’t have any more pictures of the skittle vodka process but once everything was strained and the original plastic containers were cleaned, I put the newly strained skittle-infused vodka back into the plastic containers. After that, I put the vodka in the freezer. Where it belongs.

It remained in the freezer until we were ready to drink.

There are lots of different ways to enjoy this fun little treat but we drank ours in the form of shots. Because we’re out of our minds. We did chase it with sprite, though, and that was delish.

If you drink responsibly, you could probably mix it and use actual ice cubes or something. And sip it rather than chugging it. I don’t know.

Anyway, it was awesome and I would totally do it again. Only next time I would think about laying down newspaper on the counter or something and covering myself in plastic and wearing gloves so I didn’t end up covered in it like I did this time.