We will have our stakewide RS Conference on Saturday. I was called to be on the committee to hep with the luncheon. That is a fun calling, really. One meeting, a few emails and voila! We have a great luncheon.
My part int he luncheon prep committee was dessert. Ooooh, they got the right girl for that one. After our discussion of "what do we want to have?" We opted for Costco cheesecake. It was my job to go buy 9 Costco cheesecakes.
I also was asked, since I was going to Costco anyway, could I also pick up 9 English cucumbers and 5 tubs of grape tomatoes fro the salad. But my main job was CHEESECAKE.
I bought 9. Not counting the one I bought for our family for Christmas Eve dinner. And you know what? The checkers at Costco didn't even bat and eyelash when I rolls up in my cart with 9 cheesecakes. They didn't even ask if I was hosting a party, or working with a RS committee for a Saturday Women's Conference. I love that about them. No guilt no matter what--or how many--things I am buying.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Friday, January 24, 2014
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
In Case I Haven't Mentioned Lately.....
....I am not liking the process of getting old! Lately I am discovering, or remembering, things that my body no longer likes once I eat it. I'm not talking about not enjoying something to eat...I mean, my body actually makes attempts--against my will--to spew it out when I eat certain foods.
Watermelon is not much of a desire any more. It gives me an upset stomach shortly after eating it.
Fried foods, which I realize isn't what I should be eating anyways, doesn't make be feel good--and not just when I eat the whole order of cheese fries on my own. That churning feeling that follows is not something I look forward to anymore.
Now, I need to add one more thing to the list: milk shakes from my favorite burger joint.
After a Family Home Evening lesson last night, the three of us headed out for a FHE treat at JCW's--lovingly called "The Barn" since I return to it like a cow to her barn. But my Reece's Peanut Butter Cup shake wasn't all it was meant to be.
I got almost down to scraping the Styrofoam cup's bottom and my stomach started the familiar churning and rolling. Not a good sign. It isn't lost on me that I am having these reactions to foods I really shouldn't be eating in the first place. But that still doesn't make it fun.
Watermelon is not much of a desire any more. It gives me an upset stomach shortly after eating it.
Fried foods, which I realize isn't what I should be eating anyways, doesn't make be feel good--and not just when I eat the whole order of cheese fries on my own. That churning feeling that follows is not something I look forward to anymore.
Now, I need to add one more thing to the list: milk shakes from my favorite burger joint.
After a Family Home Evening lesson last night, the three of us headed out for a FHE treat at JCW's--lovingly called "The Barn" since I return to it like a cow to her barn. But my Reece's Peanut Butter Cup shake wasn't all it was meant to be.
I got almost down to scraping the Styrofoam cup's bottom and my stomach started the familiar churning and rolling. Not a good sign. It isn't lost on me that I am having these reactions to foods I really shouldn't be eating in the first place. But that still doesn't make it fun.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The Legendary Potato Salad Escapade
It might not be legendary yet, but some day it will be. I'm sure of it. But to truly understand this weekend's Potato Salad Escapade, you must first know the back story.
When Genius Golfer and I married, I began to understand I joined a family of women who were great cooks, sewed beautifully, and were creative and crafty and amazing. Immediately I felt I was in over my head. One of the first family events I attended as a newlywed was a family BBQ for some reason or another. My good mother-in-law asked if I'd like to bring something. I said "Sure," wanting to show my enthusiasm for my new family and my competancy in preparing a side dish which everyone would enjoy. I told her my mom made the best potato salad, so I'd love to bring that.
Being so excited to do this, and thus looking for acceptance by my in-laws, and holding, deep in my heart, out hope that they would love my mom's potato salad as much as I did, I made a vat of the stuff. I filled the biggest bowl I owned. It was perfect. I had, of course, the requisite potatoes, eggs, mayo and mustard plus a pile of diced pickles, onions, celery, carrot and radishes. It was colorful and flavorful and beautiful.
No one ate any of it.
Actually, I think my mother-in-law had a tablespoon of it, just to be polite. But I returned home that evening with the whole vat still nearly compete, save only the polite tablespoon and the heaping spoonful I devoured. I ate the rest of that salad for the next week at least. I later learned that because of the colorful look, the others in the family weren't interested. It wasn't what they were used to, so they didn't even try it. And several years later, I learned that generally this family doesn't even really like potato salad at all, much less potato salad that was so different from what they were used to.
I haven't really been asked to bring potato salad to anything since. I usually get the chips and drinks request in stead. That has been the case for the last nineteen years. Until this weekend.
Monday night, the Fourth of July, we planned on getting together for our monthly family birthday dinner, this time to celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday later this month. Plus five teenage boy cousins and fireworks and you have a pretty raucous crowd. A summer party, to be sure!
In planning for the family birthday dinner, MIL told me she was bringing fried chicken--which is delicious--and the rest of the girls (read: her daughters and me) were bringing salads. Now, she did leave it wide open here, and I was kind of craving some mid-summer potato salad, and with delicious fried chicken there is nothing better, really. So I told her I'd love to bring some potato salad.
Over the phone I could hear the concern in her voice. She was polite as ever on the subject, but she happened to mention to me to remember that it would probably be just her and I and my brother-in-law who would eat it, so don't make too much. Okie dokie, I assured her.
A few days later, a couple of details had changed, so MIL called me again. While I chatted with her about the changes in the plan, she mentioned, again, very politely "You know, the ingredients in potato salad as a lot like my macaroni salad that everyone just loves. Maybe you would rather bring that instead?" I reassured her that I'd prefer some potato salad and it would be no problem. She still sounded worried as we hung up the phones.
The more I thought about it, the funnier it was to me. And I finally figured that I would pull a fast one. I headed down to our local favorite grocery store and bought a bucket of deli potato salad and then for Monday's BBQ I arranged it in my own covered bowl and sprinkled paprika on it whole thing. It looked lovely, but very normal. I brought it to the party.
We gathered that night at the home of our married niece, so her 2 year old can stay on her schedule, in her own bed, and miss the raucous crowd once her bedtime came. Genius Golfer was, well, golfing in a tournament that day so he didn't show up until almost 7 PM. The rest of the family was at least 45 minutes late, and I had to get The Girl back to our neighborhood for her to help take down the flags the Young Women put up in the yards of our ward members for their fundraiser. She and I were hoping to eat early enough to then sit around and visit until she had to go home.
Once everyone started showing up, EVERYONE showed up. Our extended family and the niece's husband's family. Come to find out, the niece's husband's extended family was invited for a BBQ and volleyball party and fireworks. No coordination for food was worked out. We didn't know the other side was coming over. We were all celebrating at the same location--but we were celebrating two different family events.
Awkward. That is all I can say about that.
But the meal was laid out and blessing was said, and the loading of plates began. I got looks of acceptance and appreciation for the potato salad we brought. I even heard a great-grandma from the opposite family even ask about the potato salad to which my MIL cheerfully replied "My daughter-in-law made that." The Great-Grandma seemed to imply it was really very tasty.
I ended up with just a couple of serving of potato salad left--perfect for my lunches this week, as still no one at my house will eat it. I just miss the radishes, pickles and celery. But the story will be worth that in a few more years, I think.
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When Genius Golfer and I married, I began to understand I joined a family of women who were great cooks, sewed beautifully, and were creative and crafty and amazing. Immediately I felt I was in over my head. One of the first family events I attended as a newlywed was a family BBQ for some reason or another. My good mother-in-law asked if I'd like to bring something. I said "Sure," wanting to show my enthusiasm for my new family and my competancy in preparing a side dish which everyone would enjoy. I told her my mom made the best potato salad, so I'd love to bring that.
Being so excited to do this, and thus looking for acceptance by my in-laws, and holding, deep in my heart, out hope that they would love my mom's potato salad as much as I did, I made a vat of the stuff. I filled the biggest bowl I owned. It was perfect. I had, of course, the requisite potatoes, eggs, mayo and mustard plus a pile of diced pickles, onions, celery, carrot and radishes. It was colorful and flavorful and beautiful.
No one ate any of it.
Actually, I think my mother-in-law had a tablespoon of it, just to be polite. But I returned home that evening with the whole vat still nearly compete, save only the polite tablespoon and the heaping spoonful I devoured. I ate the rest of that salad for the next week at least. I later learned that because of the colorful look, the others in the family weren't interested. It wasn't what they were used to, so they didn't even try it. And several years later, I learned that generally this family doesn't even really like potato salad at all, much less potato salad that was so different from what they were used to.
I haven't really been asked to bring potato salad to anything since. I usually get the chips and drinks request in stead. That has been the case for the last nineteen years. Until this weekend.
Monday night, the Fourth of July, we planned on getting together for our monthly family birthday dinner, this time to celebrate my mother-in-law's birthday later this month. Plus five teenage boy cousins and fireworks and you have a pretty raucous crowd. A summer party, to be sure!
In planning for the family birthday dinner, MIL told me she was bringing fried chicken--which is delicious--and the rest of the girls (read: her daughters and me) were bringing salads. Now, she did leave it wide open here, and I was kind of craving some mid-summer potato salad, and with delicious fried chicken there is nothing better, really. So I told her I'd love to bring some potato salad.
Over the phone I could hear the concern in her voice. She was polite as ever on the subject, but she happened to mention to me to remember that it would probably be just her and I and my brother-in-law who would eat it, so don't make too much. Okie dokie, I assured her.
A few days later, a couple of details had changed, so MIL called me again. While I chatted with her about the changes in the plan, she mentioned, again, very politely "You know, the ingredients in potato salad as a lot like my macaroni salad that everyone just loves. Maybe you would rather bring that instead?" I reassured her that I'd prefer some potato salad and it would be no problem. She still sounded worried as we hung up the phones.
The more I thought about it, the funnier it was to me. And I finally figured that I would pull a fast one. I headed down to our local favorite grocery store and bought a bucket of deli potato salad and then for Monday's BBQ I arranged it in my own covered bowl and sprinkled paprika on it whole thing. It looked lovely, but very normal. I brought it to the party.
We gathered that night at the home of our married niece, so her 2 year old can stay on her schedule, in her own bed, and miss the raucous crowd once her bedtime came. Genius Golfer was, well, golfing in a tournament that day so he didn't show up until almost 7 PM. The rest of the family was at least 45 minutes late, and I had to get The Girl back to our neighborhood for her to help take down the flags the Young Women put up in the yards of our ward members for their fundraiser. She and I were hoping to eat early enough to then sit around and visit until she had to go home.
Once everyone started showing up, EVERYONE showed up. Our extended family and the niece's husband's family. Come to find out, the niece's husband's extended family was invited for a BBQ and volleyball party and fireworks. No coordination for food was worked out. We didn't know the other side was coming over. We were all celebrating at the same location--but we were celebrating two different family events.
Awkward. That is all I can say about that.
But the meal was laid out and blessing was said, and the loading of plates began. I got looks of acceptance and appreciation for the potato salad we brought. I even heard a great-grandma from the opposite family even ask about the potato salad to which my MIL cheerfully replied "My daughter-in-law made that." The Great-Grandma seemed to imply it was really very tasty.
I ended up with just a couple of serving of potato salad left--perfect for my lunches this week, as still no one at my house will eat it. I just miss the radishes, pickles and celery. But the story will be worth that in a few more years, I think.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Cinco de Mayo
I had great plans to write a flowing ode to Mexican cuisine today, but I just spent about an hour washing all of winter off my car. The car looks great and the residue of winter is now officially gone from my life.
Maybe now Ican get on with the thoughts of salsa and chips, guacamole and carne asada, chili verde and good old fashion tacos and burritos.
Good thing I already had lunch.
Maybe now Ican get on with the thoughts of salsa and chips, guacamole and carne asada, chili verde and good old fashion tacos and burritos.
Good thing I already had lunch.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Food Blisters
Have you ever eaten MUCH more than you should have, but it felt soooo good? Yeah. Me too. More often than I'd like to admit.
Last night I did it again. I ran away with some friends to enjoy some girls' time--sans husbands and children. It was lovely. Part of our evening involved reservations at Schneitter's restaurant. On Fridays they have an all-you-can-eat Seafood Buffet. Oh yeah.
Do you see this bowl of ocean goodness fronting the ice sculpture? Yes. Yes, I nearly pulled up a chair and parked myself there. Oh the deliciousness that is snow crab legs and cocktail shrimp!! Yumm-oh!!
Needless to say, as this was an "all-you-can-eat" buffet, it begged for me to eat all I could. Well, there is no turning down an offer like that. So, I didn't--turn it down, that is. I ate crab and shrimp and even tried a shrimp taco and a cod taco. Then back to the crab and shrimp. Succulent morsels of ocean's wonder. If I was any kind of poet, I think I could wax poetic about the loveliness that is crab meat. Nothing quite like it in the world.
Well, as the evening progressed, so did the size of my food blister.
What's that? You don't know what a food blister is? A food blister is the physical protuberance that begins to show just under your rib cage when you have just eaten way more food that you should have and you feel so full that you might hurl, but it tasted so good you don't want to waste it.
My food blister developed just as it should: little bite by little tasty bite. I capped the evening off with a thorough visit to the dessert table and was rewarded for my effort in many chocolaty delicacies that were called names which I have no idea. But, wow! They were tasty.
To tend to a food blister, especially one properly prepared and adequately developed, takes some skill. A food blister demands to be stretched out on some soft, confortable furniture piece, preferably a couch or recliner. If must be kept warm, maybe with a cotton throw, acrylic blanket or quilt. It should also be kept quite to really begin to heal. This might mean a nice enjoyable movie with good plot and excellent characters to play out some family friendly story. A food blister mustn't be jolted by scary or sudden surprises. Keeping it settled is vitally important.
So that is what I did--almost. There was no recliner and the couch was full of three friends. So I lounged in the upholstered chair in the condo's family room, and enjoyed the conversation of live, in-person friends. This works too.
I recommend this prescribed treatment the next time you get a food blister and it must be cared for. This is timely information, as Thanksgiving is coming, and that is a particular time when most of us are especially susceptible to food blisters. Trust me in this remedy. You'll thank me later--even if your diet doesn't.
Last night I did it again. I ran away with some friends to enjoy some girls' time--sans husbands and children. It was lovely. Part of our evening involved reservations at Schneitter's restaurant. On Fridays they have an all-you-can-eat Seafood Buffet. Oh yeah.
Do you see this bowl of ocean goodness fronting the ice sculpture? Yes. Yes, I nearly pulled up a chair and parked myself there. Oh the deliciousness that is snow crab legs and cocktail shrimp!! Yumm-oh!!
Needless to say, as this was an "all-you-can-eat" buffet, it begged for me to eat all I could. Well, there is no turning down an offer like that. So, I didn't--turn it down, that is. I ate crab and shrimp and even tried a shrimp taco and a cod taco. Then back to the crab and shrimp. Succulent morsels of ocean's wonder. If I was any kind of poet, I think I could wax poetic about the loveliness that is crab meat. Nothing quite like it in the world.
Well, as the evening progressed, so did the size of my food blister.
What's that? You don't know what a food blister is? A food blister is the physical protuberance that begins to show just under your rib cage when you have just eaten way more food that you should have and you feel so full that you might hurl, but it tasted so good you don't want to waste it.
My food blister developed just as it should: little bite by little tasty bite. I capped the evening off with a thorough visit to the dessert table and was rewarded for my effort in many chocolaty delicacies that were called names which I have no idea. But, wow! They were tasty.
To tend to a food blister, especially one properly prepared and adequately developed, takes some skill. A food blister demands to be stretched out on some soft, confortable furniture piece, preferably a couch or recliner. If must be kept warm, maybe with a cotton throw, acrylic blanket or quilt. It should also be kept quite to really begin to heal. This might mean a nice enjoyable movie with good plot and excellent characters to play out some family friendly story. A food blister mustn't be jolted by scary or sudden surprises. Keeping it settled is vitally important.
So that is what I did--almost. There was no recliner and the couch was full of three friends. So I lounged in the upholstered chair in the condo's family room, and enjoyed the conversation of live, in-person friends. This works too.
I recommend this prescribed treatment the next time you get a food blister and it must be cared for. This is timely information, as Thanksgiving is coming, and that is a particular time when most of us are especially susceptible to food blisters. Trust me in this remedy. You'll thank me later--even if your diet doesn't.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
For the Love of Garlic
This weekend is the annual Gilroy Garlic Festival. What began in 1979 as a way to celebrate my hometown's stinky crop as well as raise money for the local high school and recreation teams, has turned into a world renown excuse to eat, drink and be merry.
Gourmet alley is where the heat is...as they cook up calamari, pepper steak, and pasta con pesto (my personal favorite). But the beer booths are where the action is. Or so I have been told.
Once upon a time the swim team collected garbage, the student council worked the ticket booth and the football team supplied the cooks at gourmet alley. I don't think it is quite that charming and local any more.
But it certainly does make me want to make some pasta con pesto today. I think I will for the Cul-De-Sac of fire tonight. Come on over and I'll treat you to my official Gilroy Garlic Festival fav as we light up the sky for Utah's Pioneer Day.
Now THAT is an odd combination.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
No Escape
It's the "most wonderful time of the year" to be sure, but the treats that seem to come out of the woodwork are what makes it so good! What is it with Christmas that makes me think I need to bake for days and days; make fudge and Canadian Squares? Sure we give a lot to friends and neighbors, but I seem to put away a lot more than I know I should.
But it is soooooo yummy. And it's only once a year, or so I tell myself. Happy Snacking, friends.
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