HOT MESS-terpiece

I'm not very good at keeping in touch with people...even people I love a whole lot. I know this because: a) I'm very perceptive and sensitive to the aches of hearts I've left void of my wit, wisdom, and overall awesomeness. b) One very honest, world-traveling friend told me so. c) "a" was a lie.

It's not that I don't care. (I DO!! I care enough for multiple exclamation points!!!) I'm just not good at it. I'll forget to write you those old-school-super-cute-hand-written notes I promised, I'll get sucked into my own life ie: college, wedding planning, etc...and then I'll awkwardly attempt to post on your facebook wall....I'll sit there with my post in the box...

"HEY GIRL! It's been forever, huh? Miss you tons! How is everything?!"

...hmm over-zealous much? let's try it again, Fryer...and this time, try not to sound like you want to wear her skin for Halloween. 

"Hey ____. Hope everything is going well."

Ew...now you sound like a passive aggressive ex-girlfriend trying subtly tell them to choke on their frozen yogurt...hmmph. Oh well! Looks like I'll just wait until their birthday or assorted major holiday...

I happily stalk you from afar...and your birthday approaches...and I forget. Or I'm not on Facebook on your birthday and therefore have no idea that it actually happened. (What? Don't act like you have everyone's birthdays memorized. You don't. YOU. DON'T.)

But every once and a while in this InstaTwitterFace-a-fide world, you get to have real conversation with your "friends"....I mean friends. Sorry about the quotes, but do you really know 758 people? (No, you don't. YOU DON'T.)

On my way to a basic work-related errand, I ran into a dear friend (no quotes) who was victim to the aforementioned forgetfulness. We had been the best of friends for YEARS of our formative awkward phase. (And when I say our formative awkward phase - I'm referring to....mine). We danced, sang, acted, star gazed, sailed, and giddily talked about everything together and then....poof! Life gets weird. You go to different high schools, different colleges, live in different states, get married, and one day you see a profile picture and think - hey, I remember you! You were (and probably still are) awesome! Why did I let you slip away?! STEEELLLLLLLLAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

Okay. You probably don't get that dramatic.
But I do.

So yeah, back to long-lost friend...we run into each other and immediately start talking a mile a minute about life/transition/puppies/cars/marriage....my brain says..
"ME FOUND...FRIEND?"

Hellz yeah.
We make plans to hang out that coming week.
And then it happens.

I get hit by a wall of weirdness. The kind that makes you feel like an alien invaded your body and you can't control your own limbs...well, no. It just makes you feel weird.

Did she think I looked okay?
Have I gained weight since the last time she saw me?
Did I come on too strong? She's going to think I have NO friends. (she'd be right-ish)
What should I wear? Does this blazer say "I have my ish together?"
Ah! This is a double date? Oh crap, I have to coach Husband on what to say/not say. Awkward dance moves, freakish love of Ina Garten, cartoon voice (don't ask), and falling asleep to the Food Network without brushing my teeth are off limits. Focus on my new car. Yeah, that's a selling point. Who doesn't want a friend with a kick-ass new whip?! BOOM!

Ew. I hate myself. I'm going to cancel.

...NO! I can't! I'm an adult!

Does ANY of this ring any bells? Not even Notre Dame status. I'll take a jingle bell. Anyone?
Why do we play this game? We're all a bunch of hot messes. Can I get an "Amen" from all my 20-something peoples?

Yeah, I could hear the roar all the way on my side of the internet.

It's true.

We're perfectly happy to proclaim it to the world via ironic memes (old folks, google that term), but when we really need to project who we are to the world most of us try our best to create a shiny-perfectly-intact-responsible-pulled-together-adult shell.

Well, that got me thinking about one of my absolute favorite desserts. (ANOTHER DESSERT, LILY?? yes friends, another dessert. deal.)

Let me introduce you to trifle. Not English trifle with freaky fruit gel and sprinkles, but a sticky sweet good ol' American trifle. You guys, do you know what trifle is?

WHATEVER THE HECK YOU WANT IT TO BE.
Yeah, I just yelled in your face a little. Sorry.

But seriously, this dessert is you. It's layered. It changes depending on who's making it. It's full of completely different textures. It's a mess really. However, somehow it still looks gorgeous. But how, Lily?! Welp, wanna learn a lesson from a conglomeration of ripped up cake, pudding, and fruit? ...yeah you do...

Peaches and Cream Trifle

Step One: Bake a vanilla cake. Yeah, that's all I'm giving you....vague much? Well here's the thing...since I've got a big girl job now (booya! more on that soon) I don't have as much energy to make all da thangs from scratch, so a boxed cake mix will do as long as it's not Betty Crapper Crocker....What's that you say? I used a box cake mix BEFORE I got this new job?...well, in that case, in the spirit of tradition feel free to use a boxed cake mix. Bake it according to the directions and let it cool.

Step Two: While your cake is cooling, put a metal mixing bowl in the freezer (this will eventually make sense...and for those of you who know me...it already does) and cook up some instant or not-so-instant vanilla pudding. Yep, this recipe just gets more and more difficult.

PUDDIN'

Step Three: After all the hard work, you'll need to be mentally prepared for this one...Wash 6 peaches. Don't break out in hives now, folks. Pace yourselves. Then slice them into 1/4 inch (ish) wedges.

This is how far past season I am...(fail)

Step Four: Throw sliced peaches into a large shallow saucepan with 4 tablespoons beet sugar. (or regular white sugar if you must). Cook for about 10 minutes on medium heat until they are softened and simmering in their own juice. Remove from heat.

Step Five: Remember that mixing bowl? Grab that sucker and pour in some whipping cream. Mhmm - it's WHIPPED CREAM TIME, BABIES! I use a whole quart - DUH. Whip it into oblivion with an electric mixer and add a half a teaspoon of cinnamon. Stop beating when stiff peaks form..or else you'll get butter. And last time I checked eating a pile of butter on top of your dessert wasn't socially acceptable. (If I'm mistaken, someone please tell me, cause I'm IN)

Step Six: Cut your cake in half across the top, thus making it thinner. Cube it from there.

Thanks, box!

Step Seven: Layer cake in the bottom. Follow by a layer of peaches, pudding, cake, peaches, pudding, cake, peaches, and ALL THE WHIPPED CREAM!

 

Step Eight: Take like a bazillion pics of this thing - cause DIS BE NICE LOOKIN'!  Eat. Eat. Eat.

 

Behold, one of the most beautiful desserts around made from ripped up chunks of cake, instant pudding, and assorted shortcuts...And the here's the thing - it's just as delicious as it is beautiful despite all the hidden craziness.

So after making this, I got less nervous/dumb. No one has it all together. If they say they do, they are 1) Lying 2) Completely out of touch 3) Beyonce (girl has got is going ON)

There you have it friendys. Let your shortcuts, weirdness, and ripped up bits shape you into something beautiful. People will love you for it.
...Or at least I will. xo

Simple Sauce

Full disclosure:


This blog will not give you a recipe to Ed's secret sauce (ie: Good Burger - one of the best Nickelodeon movies ever), beurre blanc, or well....any sauce.


There will be no sauce here....Unless you count whipped cream...


...which I ALWAYS DO.


So yeah, anyways...Let us turn our attention to that first word rather than the fact that I compulsively add the word sauce onto things purely for emphasis.


Simple.


In some regards, I am damn good at simple.


For example, I find complete and utter joy in watching Iron Chef America in bed while playing cards with Husband. (and no, "playing cards" is not code for anything creepy...you guys are weirdos.) I can regularly be found in line at the only my favorite bagel place in Bangor quivering with joy upon ordering a lemonade. (peoplez, i LUVS da lemonadez...srsly) Fresh flowers cut from our family garden bring me to tears. Well, not really....actually not at all. But I do really dig em! (gardening pun?...yikes) I could be completely content with a bowl of coconut pudding with a dollop  smothered in whipped cream.


You get the idea.


However, there are some aspects of this simplicity thing that I just cannot wrap my head around. One of them being people that only have 3  5  10 15 pairs of shoes. I mean, I'm on a budget, but when I find a pair of $7 designer shoes (yes, this does happen in Maine...it just happened yesterday actually...twice) how can you say no?!


Meh...that one I'll never understand and I'm not going to try.
Don't try to convince me...Seriously, I'm dedicated to my shoes....Don't mess with me in the comments section...or I'll bake an effigy cake of you for my next blog. (I probably won't, but that wouldn't be kinda cool?...and sick?...and awesome?)


Wow...ADD today, huh? The day you're writing the "Simplicity" blog, huh Fryer? Figures.


The simple I'm worst at is what I'll dub 'the weekend kind.'
You know.


You finally get home on Friday afternoon. Your work week was "crazy" (like everyone always says theirs was - even if they work reading books to plants in a zen garden). You're tired. Your feet hurt from those $7 designer shoes you just couldn't put down. So what do you do? Relax with a glass of wine out on your deck? Take a long bath and read Vogue? Change into sweats and start a Lord of The Rings marathon with your other nerdy girlfriends? Well, if you do the latter, please invite me. Not only am I an avid nerd and psychotic fan of Tolkien, but chances are I'm not being so wise with my limited leisure time.


You'll probably find me hastily running errands, changing into my gym (here "gym" is a loose term meaning living room Netflix workout or ...sidewalk) clothes at lightning speed, working out, making plans that don't need to be made, organizing my closet, and overall ruining my weekend from the get-go.


Even my weekend "fun" is usually type-A-over-achieving-annoying. I plan things out. If I'm sitting still for more than the length of a Parks and Rec episode, I'm "wasting time". I'm idle. I'm useless! MUST. ACCOMPLISH. ALL. THE. THINGS!!!!


Yeah, I spiral pretty quickly.


So this weekend, I once again had grand plans to get up at 6, be on the road by 7, drive 2 hours to the beach with Husband, come back that night, work out (yeah...right), church Sunday morning, cook, blog, work out, movies, cleaning, make cookies, etc...sickening, I know..


No, I'm not trying to sound cool and superhero-y. My point is, this is a terrible way to live. Scheduled fun? What am I a Hogwarts student getting an advanced permission slip to grab a butter beer with my friends?! (I wish.) But anyhooo (ah! Harry Potter owl pun! they. just. don't. stop.)


For realzy, I'm not good at the relaxation thing. I blame my super-multi-tasking-epic-Jeni-Cat. She is constantly getting the thangs done! Amazing! I'm sure watching her be incredible has influenced me in some way...Also, she's my mom, so I'll just go with the general psychological consensus and blame her like everyone else....


Nah...It's my fault. I fall victim to restless-life-syndrome far too often. Why can't we just be okay with the fact that at this very moment we're all relatively okay? Instead of trying to make your Facebook page a mecca of all things awesome that you apparently do or always answering "how are you?" with "oh my gosh, SO busy, but GREAT!" - just stop it already.


Busy does not = great.


We know you're a phony. We know because, like the saying goes, "it takes one to know one."
Calm it down.


That's what I told myself this weekend. So what did I do off my list? LITERALLY NOTHING.
......except make cookies...obviously


So instead of bringing you some intricate recipe I slaved over - Here is a simple recipe for a simple dessert. A tart.


What's more simple than defaulting to the namesake of this blog for a tasty and easy treat? You won't need to stir for hours. You won't need to shop forever at the grocery store. You won't need to plan this out for days and read through the directions 5 times. You can come home on Friday, throw on your sweats, pour some red wine, and make this with your Honey or your nerdy girlfriends. They'll appreciate it and they'll appreciate you for putting an end to your darn obsessiveness. Simple Sauce.


Sugar Cookie Fruit Tarts


Step One: Combine 2 1/2 cups flour, 1/2 teaspoon baking powder, 1/4 teaspoon salt


Step Two: In a separate bowl, beat 1 cup sugar, 10 tablespoons softened butter (no one said simply meant healthy, folks)


Step Three: Add 1 1/2  teaspoons vanilla and 2 egg whites. And as Michael would say, "Beat it"


Step Four: Slowly add dry mix, beating on low until combined. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 1 hour. (Relax, start a movie, play a board game, compose a poem describing your love of sugar cookie dough, whatever....but if you do write an ode to sugar cookie dough, I expect to see it in the comments)


Step Five: Remove dough from fridge. Mold dough into mini tart pans. Simple.

TINY THINGS ARE SO CUTE!!

Step Six: Bake at 350 for about 20-30 minutes depending on how crunchy you like your tart crust. I err on the side of 20.

Try not to eat the dough...or at least don't eat all of it

Step Seven: Remove baked tart shells and fill with your choice of fruit. I chose fresh Maine blueberries (DUH) and strawberries we picked ourselves (DOUBLE DUH). Cover with either ice cream or whipped cream (UH...IS THERE A TRIPLE DUH?) ..or both..

207 where you at!?

Fun Fact: That's homemade ice cream...another day another blog for that one

Mhmm, that's a tart after my own heart.

There you have it, crazy kids. Do away with your lists for a change. Stop attempting to learn Mandarian in your car between appointments. Stop making mandatory, but unwanted playdates for yourself like an over-involved mama. Stop chasing this intangible and unhealthy ideal of all we must do and be. Take your weekend and oh, I don't know...STOP WORKING.


Take a bike ride (or rollerblade if you're one of those ironic types, or a child of the 70s, or Husband who just genuinely loves rollerblading). Write a letter - not a text - to that friend you haven't seen in months. Or give up entirely on your plans to "accomplish" fun and just have it. Have a laugh with a friend. Have a double scoop of ice cream and don't think about working it off. Or....Have a Star Wars marathon with your entire family as you eat a bucket of Sour Patch Watermelon candies.
Worked for me.

EGGcellent!....and other bad breakfast puns

Have you ever seen the show Best Week Ever on VH1? It's pretty ridiculous...It's all like, "Tom Cruise is having the BEST WEEEEK EVERRR!!! Tom grew almost an inch in his custom lifts AND ate a cheeseburger!!!"

Uh.....yay?

Quite frankly, I don't care if Blake Lively got a haircut or Ryan Reynolds bought a shirt....sorry, Ryan.

What I do care about is news of friends' successes and blessings. The beautiful baby boy born to my dearest friends, Neil and Heather; the upcoming wedding of our friend, Tyler and his sweet fiancée; the travels and triumphs of Husband's sisters, Christie and Lisa....that kind of stuff.

I'm also a little selfish and I like having victories. (I'm only human, people!)

So listen, I know we're not the very best of friends yet, but I thought you might want to hear a little about my BEST WEEK EVER!! If not, well, you can just scroll down to the bottom and enjoy my EGGceptional recipe. Har har har! Hey, puns! As promised!

Anyways, during my blogging sabbatical some amazing things happened in the Fryer house. (and yes, by that I still mean my parents' house...woo! Adulthood!)

Okay, here are the top three highlights:

1. I GOT A JOB. Yeah, a REAL job. A big girl job. Like, what I went to school for! Booyah, Sallie Mae - in your face! Who's laughing now?! Oh, yeah my loan bill....but hey, now I can actually start seriously paying it down while doing what I love.

And I do love it. Not just honeymoon phase love it. Truly, deeply, somewhat creepily, love it. I went in for my first day of what was supposed to be an internship and by 4 o'clock, they asked to bring me on fulltime....uhhh....YES, boss lady, Y-E-S please!

Not only are the people fantastic, the caliber of work superb, and the location ideal, but all of them are equally food obsessed. Yeah, could there be a better job for Lily Fryer? Professionally shopping for shoes and eating French fries on the beach? Yes, you're right. Well, if you're the CEO of the company - holler at me.

2. I BOUGHT A CAR. I know, all of you are probably thinking. "uhh, okay Lily. Let me get this straight. You live with your parents, have tons of school debt, are barely a month into a real job and you decided to prioritize buying a car?" Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. Though I don't feel the need to get all serious about my finances, Suze Orman (Your masculine, angular haircut, will not wear me down!) I will tell you that we got an insanely good deal AND sharing a car once Husband starts grad school in August would have been beyond impossible.

And let me just clarify, homegirl is not taking the bus. So hurray! Honda Civic EX-L, I love you and your leather interior. (More specifically. I love Geoff, Wendy, and Josh at Darlings Honda in Bangor, Maine!)

3. I GOT FILMED FOR THE TRAVEL CHANNEL. If you're not a foodie, you can skip this part because it probably means nothing to you...also you should probably find another blog to read because you're in the wrong part of town.

So...one of my all time favorite places to eat in Maine is Dysart's. I can't even explain the tastiness. Like if I could marry a Dysart's sticky bun...well, sorry Husband. Also sorry sticky bun, but it would definitely be a black widow marriage and your life would be cut tragically short by my need for sweet, cinnamon deliciousness....so anyyyyyways....awkward.

The show Food Paradise was set to film last week, so inevitably I had to show up. I mean as a former theatre major with a Communications degree and a passion for all things food it would have taken a tornado to keep me away ( unless it was a tornado of sticky buns, of course). Long story short, they filmed me and Jeni-cat for like 20 minutes and the producer told me, and I quote, "Uhh, wow that was perfect. You're a sound bite machine."

Bucket list - I have been to lazy to make you, but consider like three of your items crossed off with this one epic adventure. Look for me on the Food Paradise - Maine episode coming soon! And if you haven't met me in 'real life' don't be disappointed by my weird 5 octave speaking voice....just kidding! Or am I? Well, you'll have to watch and see :)

After coming off this incredible stretch of success in my own life (and the lives of those most excellent people that tolerate me as their friend) I got to thinking about what foods can lead you to your best week ever.

I couldn't come up with anything.

Hey, you couldn't expect me to ride the WIN wave forever, could ya?

But eventually, what I did think of was the best advice any parent, elementary school teacher, or pediatrician ever gave me.

"Grapes go in your mouth, not your nose." Wait, that's not it...eh, good advice nonetheless.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day." Yeah, that's more like it...

As we all know, a good breakfast is the best way to get the wheels in your brain a-turnin. I'm not talking poptarts, folks. Get your minds out of the over-processed-sugar-packed-gutter. And while cheerios are nice and all, you need something bigger, better, and if I may say so, more EGGciting (2 egg puns!? Genius!).

Start your week out with this breakfast egg scramble and I guarantee (in a non-legally binding, encouragement sort of way) that you'll be on the way to your BEST WEEK EVER! I mean, it'll at least be better than Tom Cruise's. Poor Tom, maybe he should have gone on a Mission Eggspossible....ehhh....

Too far of a reach, huh? ....oh well. 2 outta 3 ain't bad.

Onto the good part....

Spinach, Green Chile Egg Scramble

Step One: Combine 1 1/2 cups frozen spinach - thawed and drained - with 1/2 cup green chiles (don't worry, they are sweeter than hot and you can even buy them canned - i'll allow it) and 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese.

*Frozen vegetables, Lily? We thought you liked healthy food! I do. Frozen vegetables hold their nutrition extraordinarily well...unless they are the side in your Hungry Man dinner. In that case, put the fork DOWN.*

The incredible edible...rocks. Just kidding, eggs.

Mismatched sleeping attire is vital to optimum egg fluffiness

Step Two: Whisk 5 eggs with 1/3 cup milk. The milk makes the eggs much fluffier. Step Three: Heat large shallow pan to Medium-Low. Cover in two tablespoons olive oil. Because you are (or should be) cooking eggs at a low temp, the low smoking point of the olive oil won't be a problem.

Step Four: Pour in egg mixture. Pour spinach mixture on top. Mix gently with a fork until combined in pan.

While taking this picture I almost dumped my new ipad (courtesy of the new job) into the pan - you're welcome.

Step Five: Be patient. Most people cook eggs on higher heat resulting in a dry or rubbery egg. Low heat and less fuss will give you the best result. Resist the urge to poke around or crank up the heat. Yes, your eggs will be done faster, but they will also taste horrid. Flip with a wide spatula every so often until cooked through. The spinach will add more moisture, so don't be too worried if you see extra liquid. It will taste great.

Patience, grasshopper. Resist the urge to crank the heatz.

Worth it. So worth it.

There you go! With a few basic ingredients and some patience, you can be on your way to some of your own amazing things. Take your time. Don't turn the heat up on yourself. You'll be ready when you're ready and not a moment sooner. The wait will be worth it and you'll be better for it. Now get out there and have a week that will exceed your greatest EGGspectations!... Okay, I'm done. I promise.

Delinquent Dinner

First of all, let me apologize for being the classic delinquent blogger. You know them. Theye're all like "welcome to my new blog! I am so excited for you all to join me on this new adventure!...bla bla...excitement..empty promises of interesting writing and topical intrigue...bla...obligatory request for followers and readers..bla blaaa" followed by one really really long post(or in my case 10)....and then...

Silence.

You check in periodically out of kindness/guilt (or on the rare occasion) actual interest...nothing.

You twist your memories into a much more flattering picture. You wonder if all the beautiful promises of Internet adventures were nothing, but a sham. You feel dirty and used.....and then out of nowhere - BOOM! They're back. With nothing, but a lame two line apology about how they're "sorry it's been so long, but life has been sooOoOo crazy lately." They're onto the next post as if you were nothing, but a piece of old chewed gum on the bedpost that they can just forget about for weeks and then pop right back in to keep chewing (or maybe that analogy only applies to that creepy gum chewing chic on willy wonka...oh well, you get the point).

Or, worse, they abandon the first attempt and simply create a whole new blog leaving you feeling like a discarded mistress sent to live in an apartment across town to keep the offender's reputation clean. You know the skeletons in their past. You're a liability and so they've started anew and left you alone in their wake.

Well friends, I respect you too much to give you such a pathetic excuse. I take responsibility for neglecting you and for that I will accept my digital flogging.... aka, leave me an angry comment if the lack of scrumptious recipes and self-depricating humor really sent you into a tizzy. Otherwise, with your permission, I'd like to continue with this little web-based tryst. I think we've got something good going. For all of you still with me after that melodramatic and drawn out intro....here we go!

I'd like to get back in the saddle with a post that I meant to write a few weeks ago. It would have been entitled: Shower the People You Love with Love. For those of you who don't recognize the brilliance of James Taylor (AHEM - BeCcA!) be patient, read this post, and then youtube this song if you haven't had the pleasure of hearing it already. (or if you haven't had the pleasure of stalking James Taylor in your hayday and seeing him sing this and other lovely tunes live about 12+ times....AHEM - Jeni Cat)

Allow me to digress....I've mentioned before that I don't have a lot of family close by and for the most part that's true. As far as blood relatives go, we're spread out from Maine to Rhode Island, to Michigan, to Alabama, to Florida, to California, and a lot of places in between.

We're travelers. No, not in the American gypsy sense. Reunions and family weddings can get pretty rowdy, but you won't find us in hot pink wedding dresses with 50 ft. trains...although I do have some sassy cousins yet to be married, so don't hold me to that.

The point being, if you find yourself living on a culdesac of crazy, loud aunts, uncles, and everyone in between, count yourself lucky. And for those of us trapped with only our immediate crazy, well, sometimes you need to get creative. We started the Lloyd/Fryer family adoption program years ago and since then we've amassed an Avengers caliber, faux family.

There's Deb, able to jumpstart a business or a infuse a party with live wire energy in a way that can only be described as electric. There's Uncle Mike, who can dazzle you with musical knowledge or patiently listen to every detail of your recent surgery with the attentive prowess of the kindest golden retriever. (and yes, I can assure you, he will take that as a compliment). His other half, Kelly, has the sugary sweet voice of Jennifer Tilly mixed with the work ethic of Donald Trump....and that's just naming a few of the many aunts, uncles, sisters, and brothers that we've invited into our little circle of love.

So what do you do once you've sucked all the awesome people in your vicinity into your vortex of "healthy" family obsession? Well, if you've caught on to the theme of my life...you invite them to dinner! Not just any ol' dinner.

Family dinner.

When you become blessed enough to be surrounded by barely-mortal-superhumans, you don't just make any dinner. You make a dish that will impress, wow, and flatter those you made it for. To show your love, you're willing to sweat under a cumbersome (and somewhat useless) apron, fumble to reach your measuring cups over a pot of bubbling fire water, and even cry into a simmering pot....(we Italians always salt the water, you know). Why do we go through it all? The second degree burns from the stupid hole in the pot holder, the pruny fingers soaked in raw egg, the sobbing over a board of chopped onions hoping to God you don't cut a digit off...(yes, all of these have happened, but luckily not at family dinner)... 

Because we love. And if you've got a family like mine - you love hard. And it's worth every second.

So what to make? Well....If you've watched a single episode of Hell's Kitchen, you know that the bane of even the most accomplished chef's existence is often summed up in one word.... 

Risotto. 

A dish that requires delicate toasting of the rice, unsure measurements, and endless stirring; risotto is not for the faint of heart. (ie: if you struggle with the directions on the back of Easy Mac, you should probably sit this one out)

*DISCLAIMER* This recipe involves A LOT of stirring...thus no action shots. Wahh... I know. But I solemnly swear to upload the few sloppy dinner shots I mustered up, but for now let me walk you through this recipe so you can have some pity on me putting this all together by my lonesome...

Step one. Steam 20 stalks of asparagus. Cut into bite-size pieces. Set aside. Grate 1 cup of asiago cheese - set aside.

Step two. Chop 2 pounds of Portobello mushrooms into small cubes. Place 2 tablespoons of butter into a saucepan over medium heat. Add mushrooms. Cook through. Turn off heat.

Step three. Place 3 cups of arborrio rice in a separate large saucepan over medium-high heat. Toast rice lightly - about 3 minutes.

Step four. This is where the measurements get dicey. You'll need almost double the amount of liquid to rice. I like to use a mix of vegetable broth and half-and-half. You'll add half a cup of each liquid alternating between the two - stir continuously. Do. Not. Stop. Stirring! (I told you - this recipe is not for the weak.) Continue this process until the liquid is absorbed and the rice is al dente.

Step five. Fold in Portobello mushrooms, steamed asparagus, and the asiago cheese.

Step six. Mop the sweat from your brow, allow the feeling to return to your wrist and forearm, and bring this incredible dish to the table with a smile. Watch your remarkably impressive family be impressed by you.

There they are. As promised - My Avengers.

You might not be blessed with family. You're dinner table may consist of you and Mr. Mittens the tabby cat. You may be just as far from blood relatives as I am. But let me assure you - blood may be thicker than water, but nothing is thicker than a good risotto. In the words of the great James Taylor, "Shower the people you love with love. Show them the way that you feel."

Salad Remix

I've been a bit stuck lately.

Have you ever gotten stuck? Car in the deathly March mud pits of your driveway? Longest grocery store line ever seemingly filled to the brim with extreme couponers? NY gridlock in 103 degrees with no air conditioning? (true story) Impossible amounts of gum on your shoe leaving you hopping around like a deranged Mick Jagger? (yeah, also true story) Super glued fingers while fixing your mom's favorite lamp...that you broke? (mhmm...true story...I don't wanna get into it...)

Well lucky for us, those aforementioned sticky situations generally have reasonably timed ends. I mean, yes, 2 hours in line at the grocery store seems like an eternity, but at least the incessant high pitched beeping means there is a light at the end of the tabloid-lined tunnel.

But I'm not talking about that kind of stuck. I'm talking full-blown life rut.

Here are a few of the ruts I've been in lately:

1. Eating chocolate (or other assorted things) after 10 pm. - Delicious failure is still failure. A) Go to sleep, Fryer! What are you doing awake at 11:30? You think you're some kind of spring chicken?! B)You remember that insomnia trouble you've been having? Here's a hint: the cure is not peanut butter toast OR cheese and crackers...(or those weird cookies that you're pretty sure are from Christmas, but are too proud to ask about) 

2. Procrastination - Yes ladies and gentlemen, the beast of my college years has risen it's slothful head yet again. I swear I'm not against doctors, it's just so much work to pick up the phone and make an apt....yeah, dumb.

3. Isolationism - Well, actually I'm not exactly avoiding foreign policy...I'm not important enough for that. I've just been an overall homebody, too nervous to ask anyone to do anything for fear of being rejected (Drinks after work? With you? Oh uhh...I have to wash my cat's hair....or vacuum my dishes...or something)

4.  Ponytails - Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate a sporty up-do, but it's getting ridiculous. Like, I have seriously worn one 28 of the last 30 days. This is not a joke. Sadly, that's been my only option...since I haven't gotten my hair done by a professional for 6 months...trust me, it's bad. 

Ruts are generally bad things.

Emotional ruts make you a torment to yourself and everyone you encounter...You become either relentlessly depressed ("yay for emo friends!" says NO ONE) or obnoxiously manic (no one believes you are that chipper all the time..we're all just waiting for you to go ballistic.) No, I'm not here to judge. I have proudly been both of those at one time or another. (or lots of times)

Physical ruts usually involve extremes like working out every day at 4 am to Insanity/P90X/other-terrifying-routine-of-death and developing an actual rut...you know what I'm talking about..like that cavern in the center of your creepy rippling abs. Sorry people, but nobody likes the look of the that Grand Canyon between your bulging muscle pockets (too descriptive?...probably) Some folks go to the other end of the spectrum and end up making their own personalized rut...shaped like their buns... on the cushion of their favorite spot on the couch...Yes, I have also been both of these people.

Dietary ruts are the worst of all. Honestly, what is worse than eating the same thing..every. single. day. ?? My Dad is one of those freaks who finds solace in culinary monotony. (LOVE YA DAD!) He likes his lunch consistent (and boring): carrots, pretzels, and protein bars. Ew. (STILL LOVE YA!) I am not a fan of this. I enjoy variety and I get very resentful of certain foods if I don't get it. (Stay away from me, black bean salad. We're still not on speaking terms.)

I think we all need something to refresh our palette: Emotional, Physical, and yes, Dietary (my favorite).

Since I don't know all of you lovely readers intimately, I figured I'd start with the dietary. Quite frankly I'm not equipped to craft physical or emotional reboot plans, but I can whip up a mean fruit and veggie salad. That's gotta count for something, right?

In any case, this salad is far from ordinary and sure to pop you right out of any food rut you may have developed. Eating cereal every morning got you down? Constantly disappointed by bland salads after painfully choosing them over more caloric (delicious) options? Villainous fast food egg sandwiches haunting your dreams? Starting to actually believe that the frozen lunch you're microwaving is real food??

Say no more! This salad was the first step in my road to rut recovery. Try it as a breakfast, side salad with lunch, or late afternoon power snack. It's refreshing and unexpected, which is just what you and I need.

Carrot Apple Salad and Lemon Dressing

Step One: Grate/Shred 6-10 carrots depending on size of the carrot/group you're feeding/how fearless you are with a mandolin blade or grater. My fingers barely held on for all 10 carrots, but hey, at least I still have all 10 fingers.

Step Two: Grate/Shred 2 large Gala or Fiji apples. Trust me, these are the absolute best. Red delicious fans, be quiet.

Step Three: Combine shredded ingredients with 2/3 cup of craisins (dried cranberries for those of you that have yet to discover these tasty morsels).

Step Four: Juice two medium/large lemons, add 1 tablespoon agave nectar (or sugar if you're not as hip as the kids are these days), 1/4 teaspoon salt.

Step Five: Whisking constantly, add in 1/4 -1/2 cup (good) olive oil depending on your affinity for tart flavors. Obviously I'm biased. (emoticon wink)

Step Six: Pour over salad and fold in. Enjoy one less day eating frozen waffles for breakfast! 

After feasting on this salad, working out in the fresh air, making fun of the P90X infomercial, enjoying a coffee date with my husband, and FINALLY getting my hair done (see evidence below), I started feeling a bit better. 

Look ma! No split ends!

So let me keep it short and sweet for you, friends.

Take some time to refresh your palette. Do something unexpected. Get out of your daily pattern and take a risk. 

Reach out to that neighbor who's name you still don't know. They'd probably like a friend just as much as you would and if they don't - you should probably move. They're most likely an anti-social murderer..... Just kidding! If they aren't receptive, make that chocolate cake. If they still aren't receptive - yeah, you should move....definitely a murderer. 

Gotcha again! Some people are just mean, but at least you tried. At least you reached.

Smile at a stranger...maybe start with that angsty cashier at the grocery store - you've got to have some sympathy (all those damn coupons!). If you start smiling when you don't feel like it - eventually you'll feel like it.  :D ( <-- just like that guy)

Leave the Hamburger Helper on the shelf (or incinerate it...all of it...please) and make this salad. I promise you'll feel at least a little better.

Sweat the Small Stuff. No, really.

The sun is shining. It's going to be a balmy 73. I accomplished my work out early this morning and loved every second of the glorious 4 miles. My cocoa butter body wash has left my skin smelling like vanilla pudding......

And I could spit nails. 

Seriously, I'm about to take my earrings out and smack this day in its stupid face!

Do you have these days? The kind of days where in reality things seem quite peachy, but for some reason you are caught up in a Hulk-like rage that can only be quelled by copious amounts of reality TV and the safety of your bed? 

.....Well, maybe the remedy differs, but you get me, right?

No, thank you condescending readers, but it is not "that time of the month" nor am I grouchy due to some crash diet or "cleanse" (if any of you actually had that thought cross your minds you must be new to this blog). 

I'm just annoyed at life today.

It all started last night when Husband and I made our almost nightly trek to the kitchen for a post-dinner-pre-breakfast snack. I had already decided on my morsel of choice. Envisioning the perfect bunch of bananas that sat poised on my counter gently calling my name, I walked into the kitchen. AH! To my utter dismay, the bananas that I had anticipated dipping into melted dark chocolate were spattered with brown spots of death. Premature browning! NOOOOO! 

Cut down in the prime of their lives!

So I suppose my anger was still ruminating around my brain when I passed out watching Storage Wars drifted off to sleep, which must have resulted in my proverbial poo colored glasses today. 

Here I shall outline my list of grievances that have since been noted:

1. The lovely (and rare) professional manicure I got with my sister for her birthday has now been irreconcilably chipped.

2. My hair takes WAY too long to dry and leaves my neck feeling cold and clammy.

3. Sam's Club had NO bananas (yeah, I buy my bananas at Sam's - don't judge) . Thus, I am resigned to return home and stare into the mushy brown skin of my precious bananas as they succumb to a slow death by oxidation and humidity.

4. The damn birds are SO loud this time of year. I mean, I get that you're excited to be alive and all, but puh-leez SHUT IT while us normal non-birds are sleeping at 3 am.

5. I had to eat a tomato sandwich for lunch. ONLY tomato. Doesn't Sky Mall sell a grocery shopping robot by now? It's 2012, people. Get on that.

Okay that's enough of that. As you can see, I was in quite the state when I started this day. I felt incapable of accomplishing anything while in such a foul mood....so I didn't. I sat for about 30 minutes doing nothing.....except mindlessly picking at my already ruined manicure and watching the Barefoot Contessa make scrambled eggs....

It was then that I realized how simultaneously obnoxious and blessed I am. 

It doesn't take a licensed psychoanalyst to figure out that these problems are miniscule in the grand scheme of life -- in fact it only took Ina Garten a few minutes of whisking to snap me out my funk.

So here it is: Not to get too morbid on you all, but there was a time when I seriously wondered whether or not my mom would be alive to see me graduate. Yes, she rocked that bald head, but I like her much more with her glossy brunette locks and health intact. 

Since the C word took our lives for a turn, my family developed a new life philosophy: 

It could always be worse. 

I know, we're not always the most creative bunch...but that's what we say...and it's the truth. 

What we (and you) consider our worst day is what others would consider their best. How many people would LOVE to be complaining about nail polish instead of being told that they need 4 more rounds of chemo? I've already been in on that kind of conversation and let me tell you - nail polish wins.

I'm not trying to guilt you all. This is not a diatribe against having a comfortable life. I'm just trying to point out that sometimes when there is nothing to complain about - we make problems for ourselves. I would place every penny I ever earn on the fact that all the grievances I listed (and all the rest of them I kept to myself - you're welcome) would never have drawn my attention under more trying circumstances.

Quite frankly, sometimes my mom annoys me with her chronic optimism (as I'm probably annoying some of you), but I'm thankful for it.

Knowing how lucky we are makes me realize that being annoyed is really a luxury. It allows us to really go for the drama sometimes - just for the fun of it. For example, "Oh. My. Gosh. This lemonade I paid 3 bucks for is SooOOo diluted! Where is my sugar in the raw, Jeeves??" 

It can actually be fun. For example, "Oh. My. Gosh. This diluted lemonade is so much better than drinking cement!"

Once you realize that you are no longer dealing with life and death real-life drama and fear, it makes everything else a cake walk. So go ahead, sweat the small stuff - just because you can! For real, if my biggest problem today is a chipped manicure....well, in the immortal words of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (your welcome, Husband) "Right on! Righteous! KOWABUNGA!" ....and all that other exuberant surfer-type stuff.

I can choose to love everyday and make it into something better. What's more, I can actually learn to love my petty problems, my daily annoyances, the close talker in the elevator, the There's-Something-About-Mary-thing my bangs do when I wake up, even gross bananas....

You know how the saying goes, "if life hands you brown bananas, make banana cake!"

Another cake?? I know, I know, but it's really more of a really spongy banana bread. Go with it.

Step One: Preheat oven to 375. Whisk together 3 cups of flour (I already scolded you all about white flour, don't make me tell you twice) with 2/3 cup of sugar, 2 teaspoons baking powder, 2 teaspoons baking soda, 2 teaspoons cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon salt.

Step Two: Mash 6 bananas (give or take a banana) by removing them from their skins like so...

 Get a Masher of some type....Like this....

Available at your local torture implement store...or Homegoods, whatever.

 Mash the heck out of those buggers...

This shot goes out to any babies that read my blog. Looks tasty huh?

Step Three: Mix mashed bananas (should yield about 2 cups) with 1 cup non-fat (or low fat if you want to live on the edge) sour cream, 1 cup plain fat free yogurt, 2 lightly whisked eggs,  1/2 cup canola oil, 2 teaspoons vanilla extract.

Step Four: Pour batter evenly into two greased 8x8 (or 9x9) glass baking dishes (or metal pans).

Step Five: Bake for 30-40 minutes or until golden on the top and solid through (test with a toothpick, don't wiggle the pan, you silly kids). Let cool. Or don't...Just try not to give yourself third degree burns on your esophagus like I probably did...oops.

So tomorrow, when you sleep through your alarm and are frantically brushing your teeth in the shower to try avoiding tardiness at your job, be thankful you have a job to be late to. Then indulge yourself a little drama and loudly lament to your husband/roommate/sibling/parakeet. Oh, and grab a slice of this cake. It makes a great breakfast, too. Or at least it's better than cement.