Well, never let it be said that in my cousin's house that the cupboard is bare. It very nearly is. But not BARE.
This is what I scraped together today while she was at work:
Kraft Mac -n- Cheese, Bush's Baked Beans and assorted mixed frozen veggies.
I began with boiling the water, while I chopped red onion,
"Wendy," I asked the oldest daughter, "do you think we'll need two boxes or just one?"
"Just one," she said.
While I was waiting for the water to boil, I made a cucumber sandwich to serve as an appetizer. A white bread roll, heated until steaming in the microwave, slathered with mayo, then cucumber slices -and last, celery seed to finish it, was served promptly. Wendy finished it gratefully and fed some of it to the children (there were children present).
The youngest child (my cousin's grandchild) David walked around carrying two cucumber slices, one in each hand. A double fisted eater!
To the macaroni, I added four tablespoons of real butter, the cheese sauce mix (a disgusting orange color, to be sure) and the onion. It looked a bit dry and I was about to add some milk. But the milk in the refrigerator did not have one of those reassuring "we don't use RBST on our cows" labels. I'm sorry, without that label? I'm not drinking it. The last thing I need is to have some weird hormonal thing happen to me because I had the misfortune to ingest such a noxious substance. So I moistened it with almond milk and you'd never know the difference.
The baked beans went into the pan and cooked while I microwaved each plate with frozen veggies. I fed Wendy first, then Isobel her sister (mother of David) and then myself.
It was okay. The mac-n-cheese needed more flavor, but if you mixed it with the baked beans, it was pretty good.
Wendy failed to eat her veggies.
I was sad about that. But at least she helped me finish off the rest of the mac-n-cheese. She was right. We did only need one package.
Until next time, my loyal fans..
KISSES!!!
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Chinese Food
My darling readers, it's been awhile since I've blogged, mea culpa.
Now to the dish: my mother's Chinese cooking.
The interesting thing about my mother, is that even though she is Swedish, she will cook most any other ethnic cuisine. But she will not be caught dead making Swedish meatballs in brown gravy over noodles, of which, incidentally, I love.
First the beef: tender strips of the finest cut of meat sizzling in a spicy brown gravy, complete with scallions (which I really really like). It is served over brown rice and topped with green beans. This from the farm stand kind, not the frozen variety.
Next, the chicken: the smell of that chicken was so sublime that you would sell your soul, merely to eat some. My nose was in nirvana. Scallions, tomatoes and brown rice were also in this dish, but it was a different sauce.
My mother had learned Chinese Cookery from a book written by two Benedictine nuns who had escaped Communist China. Unfortunately, the book has been lost in the mists of time, ergo, I must seek it out, find it and return it to it's rightful place: my mother's recipe bookshelf.
I have just left the confines of hearth and home to journey to a place far far away: my cousin Danny's house.
Danny is a hoot and plans to take me out for Chinese food. Cheap Chinese food, she says.
Well, just 'cos it's cheap doesn't mean it CAN'T be good, but I will let you, my dear readers know about that!
I remain, still on vacay,
Hilda Stinson, food pornographer extraordinaire
Now to the dish: my mother's Chinese cooking.
The interesting thing about my mother, is that even though she is Swedish, she will cook most any other ethnic cuisine. But she will not be caught dead making Swedish meatballs in brown gravy over noodles, of which, incidentally, I love.
First the beef: tender strips of the finest cut of meat sizzling in a spicy brown gravy, complete with scallions (which I really really like). It is served over brown rice and topped with green beans. This from the farm stand kind, not the frozen variety.
Next, the chicken: the smell of that chicken was so sublime that you would sell your soul, merely to eat some. My nose was in nirvana. Scallions, tomatoes and brown rice were also in this dish, but it was a different sauce.
My mother had learned Chinese Cookery from a book written by two Benedictine nuns who had escaped Communist China. Unfortunately, the book has been lost in the mists of time, ergo, I must seek it out, find it and return it to it's rightful place: my mother's recipe bookshelf.
I have just left the confines of hearth and home to journey to a place far far away: my cousin Danny's house.
Danny is a hoot and plans to take me out for Chinese food. Cheap Chinese food, she says.
Well, just 'cos it's cheap doesn't mean it CAN'T be good, but I will let you, my dear readers know about that!
I remain, still on vacay,
Hilda Stinson, food pornographer extraordinaire
Friday, December 17, 2010
Choclatification: The Chocolate Trifecta
Can we be honest right here and now?
It's about the sin of choclatification.
After dinner, I ate not just a chocolate brownie (rich and smooth, filled with tiny little nuts that crunched so agreeably) but a small container of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Brownie ice cream (which, while rich, cold and creamy, had very little actual brownie in it-if at all) I ate these, I did, while I drank European hot chocolate (the milk being almond milk-because you all know how gross it is to contemplate where cow's milk comes from: cow teats (which, incidentally, is pronounced "tits" not "teets"- just so those of you in the ignoramous community know and are set straight). And let's not go into how FILTHY cows are. 'Cos they ARE!
I wish I could say it was glorious. But all I got was a stomachache. :(
*sigh*
Well, I have to go. Cap is looking expectantly at me. With those puppy dog eyes.
Dammit.
At least tonight he's wearing pajamas.
G'night, my loyal fans!
Kisses,
Hilda
It's about the sin of choclatification.
After dinner, I ate not just a chocolate brownie (rich and smooth, filled with tiny little nuts that crunched so agreeably) but a small container of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Brownie ice cream (which, while rich, cold and creamy, had very little actual brownie in it-if at all) I ate these, I did, while I drank European hot chocolate (the milk being almond milk-because you all know how gross it is to contemplate where cow's milk comes from: cow teats (which, incidentally, is pronounced "tits" not "teets"- just so those of you in the ignoramous community know and are set straight). And let's not go into how FILTHY cows are. 'Cos they ARE!
I wish I could say it was glorious. But all I got was a stomachache. :(
*sigh*
Well, I have to go. Cap is looking expectantly at me. With those puppy dog eyes.
Dammit.
At least tonight he's wearing pajamas.
G'night, my loyal fans!
Kisses,
Hilda
What the Best Cockroach? Cockroach of the Sea!
First, as promised: dish-about the Captain. He DID come to visit. His body pressed against the glass and then through it, on top of me, while I tried to sleep. He tried to cuddle me. I was annoyed. I was tired.
I finally allowed him to have his way with me. He left soundlessly as I drifted off. Finally. I was TIRED! Dammit.
Today was very trying.
Lunch was very uninspiring because it was exactly the same thing I had the day before. And I was tired.
Dinner? It was quite the t'do.
Because I bothered to purchase a lobster tail for myself.
The lobster, for those of you who don't know this- is the cockroach of the sea. Which makes me wonder: why don't people eat cockroaches? If lobster is delicious and the cockroach of the sea, then why can't cockroaches be good? I mean, they would at least be crunchy. But they do have a particular smell to them, if I am remembering correctly (my uncle has a rent controlled apartment in New York that comes complete with cockroaches) from the time I was seven and the fam visited New York. So, they might have to have their flavor disguised somehow. OR people would have to develop a taste for them. Oh. I'm sorry. Am I making you feel queasy? My apologies. But, this IS porno. So suck it up, people!
So I had no clue on what to do with this lobster tail-save boil it, which I thought would be a bit harsh. So I found a few articles that suggested steaming it (thank you, God for the internet!). I steamed it, thought it was done, then changed my mind (it looked a bit raw) and then added some broccoli. So there was the lobster tail, nearly done, and the frozen broccoli, in the steamer, together, making sweet sweet love. Or so we would hope.
I went into the freezer to get some butter and cut some off. I popped a wee bit in my mouth. (You all KNOW how I LOVE frozen butter!)
Eventually the lobster and the broccoli were done and I placed them on the paper plate (I don't "DO" dishes during the week) with the butter.
The lobster still had some shell on it, which I broke off with my fingers. There was black stuff underneath. It was kind of icky looking, but I ate it anyway. I ate all of it, except the shell of course (who eats lobster shells?!).
The verdict? I don't think I would buy it again. I think lobster should be eaten in a restaurant when one is with a boy who loves you. Or WANTS to love you. Part of the joy of eating lobster is having a companion to eat it with-because by itself, it's actually kind of wormy.
Yes. Okay. Back to my veganism. I don't care. Sometimes living things gross me out. I'm squeamish. I don't like the sight of blood. Or hearts beating. It's just disgusting. I don't like to think about where food comes from. I don't.
And to be completely honest? If I'm going to eat flesh? Their 'ent nothing like steak. Filet.
Seduce me with THAT, Cowboys.
I remain,
Hilda Stinson
I finally allowed him to have his way with me. He left soundlessly as I drifted off. Finally. I was TIRED! Dammit.
Today was very trying.
Lunch was very uninspiring because it was exactly the same thing I had the day before. And I was tired.
Dinner? It was quite the t'do.
Because I bothered to purchase a lobster tail for myself.
The lobster, for those of you who don't know this- is the cockroach of the sea. Which makes me wonder: why don't people eat cockroaches? If lobster is delicious and the cockroach of the sea, then why can't cockroaches be good? I mean, they would at least be crunchy. But they do have a particular smell to them, if I am remembering correctly (my uncle has a rent controlled apartment in New York that comes complete with cockroaches) from the time I was seven and the fam visited New York. So, they might have to have their flavor disguised somehow. OR people would have to develop a taste for them. Oh. I'm sorry. Am I making you feel queasy? My apologies. But, this IS porno. So suck it up, people!
So I had no clue on what to do with this lobster tail-save boil it, which I thought would be a bit harsh. So I found a few articles that suggested steaming it (thank you, God for the internet!). I steamed it, thought it was done, then changed my mind (it looked a bit raw) and then added some broccoli. So there was the lobster tail, nearly done, and the frozen broccoli, in the steamer, together, making sweet sweet love. Or so we would hope.
I went into the freezer to get some butter and cut some off. I popped a wee bit in my mouth. (You all KNOW how I LOVE frozen butter!)
Eventually the lobster and the broccoli were done and I placed them on the paper plate (I don't "DO" dishes during the week) with the butter.
The lobster still had some shell on it, which I broke off with my fingers. There was black stuff underneath. It was kind of icky looking, but I ate it anyway. I ate all of it, except the shell of course (who eats lobster shells?!).
The verdict? I don't think I would buy it again. I think lobster should be eaten in a restaurant when one is with a boy who loves you. Or WANTS to love you. Part of the joy of eating lobster is having a companion to eat it with-because by itself, it's actually kind of wormy.
Yes. Okay. Back to my veganism. I don't care. Sometimes living things gross me out. I'm squeamish. I don't like the sight of blood. Or hearts beating. It's just disgusting. I don't like to think about where food comes from. I don't.
And to be completely honest? If I'm going to eat flesh? Their 'ent nothing like steak. Filet.
Seduce me with THAT, Cowboys.
I remain,
Hilda Stinson
Thursday, December 16, 2010
When Food Loses All Meaning
I had a date the other night.
He was a GENUINE Southern Gentleman. Yeah. Even his name was Southern: Beau.
He was tall, he was dark-and yes, readers, he was handsome. And, I completely, well, not COMPLETELY, but somewhat, did, forget about food. He made me laugh. I made him laugh. We drank, we ate, we kissed. It was sheer perfection.
And I had lost my edge.
But let's get back to what I'm good at. What I really love-and I think you should know by now what THAT is.
Today I had a craving for a peanut butter sandwich with cucumber on sprouted wheat bread. I ate half a sandy. HALF. Because there was more. I'm still force fluidating, so an entire bucket of beef broth. The usual cucumber, sliced thick and served with seaweed chips (sixty calories for a WHOLE package-and you get the sensation of eating potato chips) was delicious.
But what I really love lay baking in the oven: it was a turkey meat loaf muffin. The mashed potatoes are lightly infused with parmesan cheese and heavy cream. So delicious. But oddly enough, they don't bake so well in the oven, they are better from the microwave-and since I don't have one, I've decided to just eat these at work from now on. Yeah. It wasn't so good. Dammit!
And I ate half a greek salad. I'm just full. I blame the bucket of beef broth.
This is my modus o: I write, I toggle between the kitchen (the computer) and the main closet room (I live in a closet) where the tv is. When a particularly boring commercial comes on, I get out of bed and lunge back toward the kitchen and my computer.
For dessert this evening, I will fantasize about the chocolate covered ginger cookies that I didn't buy today at Trader Joe's. These cookies have a dark chocolate coating and the cookie inside is chewy and the chocolate crumbles so nicely in your mouth as the cookie is eaten.
So there it is.
It was a good dinner. I had just done Root Lock AND Indie Prime (two new vids I'd recently purchased) so it was all right. The Captain had popped in to watch me. He wore grey sweatshorts and a matching grey t-shirt. He sat on the edge of my mat, his legs crossed, knees halfway up to his chest. I could tell he was curious. And I wondered, would he be visiting me later?
I'll let you know.
Pornoliciously yours,
Hilda
kisskiss
He was a GENUINE Southern Gentleman. Yeah. Even his name was Southern: Beau.
He was tall, he was dark-and yes, readers, he was handsome. And, I completely, well, not COMPLETELY, but somewhat, did, forget about food. He made me laugh. I made him laugh. We drank, we ate, we kissed. It was sheer perfection.
And I had lost my edge.
But let's get back to what I'm good at. What I really love-and I think you should know by now what THAT is.
Today I had a craving for a peanut butter sandwich with cucumber on sprouted wheat bread. I ate half a sandy. HALF. Because there was more. I'm still force fluidating, so an entire bucket of beef broth. The usual cucumber, sliced thick and served with seaweed chips (sixty calories for a WHOLE package-and you get the sensation of eating potato chips) was delicious.
But what I really love lay baking in the oven: it was a turkey meat loaf muffin. The mashed potatoes are lightly infused with parmesan cheese and heavy cream. So delicious. But oddly enough, they don't bake so well in the oven, they are better from the microwave-and since I don't have one, I've decided to just eat these at work from now on. Yeah. It wasn't so good. Dammit!
And I ate half a greek salad. I'm just full. I blame the bucket of beef broth.
This is my modus o: I write, I toggle between the kitchen (the computer) and the main closet room (I live in a closet) where the tv is. When a particularly boring commercial comes on, I get out of bed and lunge back toward the kitchen and my computer.
For dessert this evening, I will fantasize about the chocolate covered ginger cookies that I didn't buy today at Trader Joe's. These cookies have a dark chocolate coating and the cookie inside is chewy and the chocolate crumbles so nicely in your mouth as the cookie is eaten.
So there it is.
It was a good dinner. I had just done Root Lock AND Indie Prime (two new vids I'd recently purchased) so it was all right. The Captain had popped in to watch me. He wore grey sweatshorts and a matching grey t-shirt. He sat on the edge of my mat, his legs crossed, knees halfway up to his chest. I could tell he was curious. And I wondered, would he be visiting me later?
I'll let you know.
Pornoliciously yours,
Hilda
kisskiss
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Back from the Dead
I am back, my dear readers I am back!
I lusted in my heart over a chocolate cake frosted with white coconut icing (which was on a magazine cover at the check out at Target) and YES, I shopped.
It was amazing.
At Target I found, in the girls' dept, no less, cords for 10 bucks each. (I have no hips and I'm short, so I can sometimes wear a girls' size 16). And they look FABULOUS!
AND shoes. Me finding shoes. Is that not incredible (you have to know me to know how amazing this is)? I found two pairs. One a shoe boot type and the other a dress shoe for job interviews.
Oh the excitement!
And I bought new rubber gloves for the dishes.
Extra exciting.
I just thought everyone should know.
*WINK*
Love and hugs to all my fans!
I remain,
Hilda Stinson
I lusted in my heart over a chocolate cake frosted with white coconut icing (which was on a magazine cover at the check out at Target) and YES, I shopped.
It was amazing.
At Target I found, in the girls' dept, no less, cords for 10 bucks each. (I have no hips and I'm short, so I can sometimes wear a girls' size 16). And they look FABULOUS!
AND shoes. Me finding shoes. Is that not incredible (you have to know me to know how amazing this is)? I found two pairs. One a shoe boot type and the other a dress shoe for job interviews.
Oh the excitement!
And I bought new rubber gloves for the dishes.
Extra exciting.
I just thought everyone should know.
*WINK*
Love and hugs to all my fans!
I remain,
Hilda Stinson
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)