Chef's Salad

It sure is heating up, y'all.

Have you heard? I'll bet you have if you use your facebook account.

The high was 107 degrees today. 

I was not about to turn on my oven.

&I sure as shit was not going to get fast food.

I have c o m p e l l i n g reasons to avoid fast food joints.

It's not that I don't like fast food. Actually I love it!

It has:

-Unlimited diet coke. 

-Sauce packets galore.

-People to judge.

-Pro-sweatpants atmosphere.
-Even gambling!

Skinny bitches love a free McFlurry.

So can you guess why I don't go to fast food???

It's not because of the nutrition,
or the sanitation, 

or because I'm some kind of hip locavore.

I can't believe you even guessed that.

It aaaaaall stems from a traumatizing experience at a KFC one day, not too long ago......

After refilling my diet coke back to the tippy top, 

I began the return to my booth (do you take up a booth for four when you dine alone?? I do.)

but something interrupted my progress. A child.

A child who had fallen smack on his little child face.

I did not move to his aid. Child blood is tough to get out.

His mother was unhappy with my decision. 

In order to combat her shrill accusations of callousness I told her the following sentence:

"I, uh, I'm not supposed to interact with children because, well... you know. The law."

I implied that I was a convicted sex offender.

To an entire KFC.

So the mother wouldn't think I was a jerk.

Anyway, so, that's why I made a massive chef's salad today.

Because I'm too socially awkward for the colonel.

Filling up at the Quick Tip: Punkin

I have another tip, y'all.

Do you over-zealously purchase canned pumpkin each fall? I do.

In a frenzy, I clean stores out of their Libby's. 

I'm like those extreme couponing people.

(but without the coupons)

I'm over here paying $0.75 for canned vegetables like a goddamn chump.

Come next season, I inevitably have a pantry full of canned pumpkin.

& m a g i c a l  t h i n g s begin to happen.

[J. W. Sterling]

Pumpkin puree is perfect in summer, folks. Trust me. 

I have a ton of ideas for y'all to get all that d e l i c i o u s  n u t r i t i o u s canned pumpkin into your gullet.

Starting with a fantastic vegetable dip.

Always Reddy Stew

Recovering nicely, y'all?

Ugh.
I got a little roughed up this weekend. At  A t h f e s t.

The heat was not favorable. 

& the depressants in my bloodstream didn't help my energy level.

But don't worry y'all, 

Reptar pepped me right back up.

[thanks Blane]

That crowd was wild. 
My life was on the line Friday night, folks.
The gentleman behind me was raging hard trying to mosh. 
(It involved  punching people mostly.)
& I nearly got crushed by rogue crowd surfers!

I needed some protection. 
In the form of dance.

I planted my feet and pretended to run in place. For protection.
Arms swining madly, I bore a striking resemblance to a drunk Richard Simmons.

The dance kept me safe, but I finished out the night exhausted. And so did my wallet.

Uninterested in cooking, 

and unable to go shopping with my meager bank account, 

I set to work inventively using up the things from my pantry.

Baked pumpkin pie oatmeal topped with peanut butter & cold-brewed coffee.

Not Really Bruschetta

Good evening, y'all.

Are you going to A t h f e s t tonight?? 

Everyone will be there. I'll be there!

And aaaaall the townies,

 dressed to the nines in 

   homeless-chic.

Do you know how expensive it is to look this poor?

Ah,  A t h f e s t . The biggest party this town has to offer.

.....................................................Well.

Have you memorized your lines yet???

You gotta have something to say, baby.

All the hipsters are gonna wanna know what you thought of that new Reptar album. 

&isn't Atlas Sound just, like, so alluring and distinct these days?? M e l a n c h o l i c . . ..

I haven't settled on what to say.

Perhaps, "It was o k a y, but...

they missed their chance to do something surprising."

But I do know one thing for sure:

I'm sooo making breaded eggplant "bruschetta" again.

(Topped with garlic lemon "aioli".)

Fadulous Orange Oatmeal, Ossified

Beating the heat, y'all?

I've always been a sucker for f a d s. 

I lovingly cultivated a home for my lifeless pet rock.

Suffered scorn for my blinding orange crocs. 

(Until my mom, fearing they'd be caught in an escalator and I'd be maimed, banned crocs.)

I had a rainbow fanny pack emblazoned with my name!! 

An improvement over the goth phase.

Yes, my addiction to  f a d s  has deep roots y'all.

Aaaaall the way back to 1990. The year they closed the leaning tower of Pisa.

I'm not ashamed!

Food  f a d s  are alright, don't you think??

See also: cupcakes.

I noticed baked oatmeal popping up a while ago.

I was sold immediately. 
I was sold before I tried them. I became fiendishly addicted after I tried them.

Breakfast of the Year, All Years.

Extremely simple to make & customize, baked oatmeal  is just... awesome. It's like eating cake for breakfast, except good for you! 

Scoop some out every morning, top with nuts, drown it in milk, spread nut butter on it, or eat it warm, or cold, or with honey on top, and you're guaranteed to have a bangin' day.

The Lost City of Atlanta

How are things with y'all?

Remember my weekend spent in A t l a n t a visiting my parents? It was only yesterday.

A shining example for city planners everywhere.

By the time my two days were up, I felt like a real expert on A t l a n t a.
Thanks to the internet and my two days, I knew everything. 
I strutted around Piedmont Park, eyeing down groups of hipper-than-thou 20-somethings with gusto.
I made restaurant recommendations. 

I even gave a guy directions!

Just keep looking for Peachtree Street.

Folks, I was lost when I gave those directions. 

I sent a man and his child on a complete goose chase. 

I'm not sure why.

My overconfidence in my street smarts, aided by my overconfidence in my smartphone, leads to me getting lost a lot.

I come home, completely famished after wandering for hours.

In need of something quick.

I MacGyvered myself up a quick & relatively healthy pizza sandwich with deviled eggs.

Spicy & Sweet Potato Hash

Happy Father's Day, y'all!

Father's day is a tough time of year for me. Expectations are high when you've got two fathers.

Mine have everything. Two of everything. 

They forget about gift cards until they expire.

 Only eat v e g a n  f o o d.

Hmmmm. 

A real brain tickler, folks.

Perhaps I should skip the gifts this year? Perhaps just a visit. 

I could help them unpack from their recent move! We'd relax by the pool! Grill portobello burgers! 

It was a genius idea. Perfect!
So perfect, in fact, that all my siblings came up with the same plan. 

My dads live in a two-room condo in Midtown. With no furniture. 

What were you thinking young lady.

After a Saturday night in an unpacked and unfurnished condo with five other people, I longed for breakfast that did not need to be microwaved & eaten out of tupperware: Spicy & Sweet Potato Hash. 

Sriracha & honey make this hash taste much better than my poor photography skills can ever portray.

Somebody Call Pesto Corntrol!

Been doing any travelin' this summer, y'all?

Perhaps you've heard of the m e g a b u s?
Massive. Blue. Double-decked.

Filled to the brim with uncomfortable looking strangers ?

Just pretend like you're asleep.

I got well-acquainted with the m e g a b u s this summer.
Blinded by the prospect of cheap travel, I booked myself an 8$ round trip to Mobile, AL.

I was so proud of myself.

I was going to meet all kinds of worldly people riding the bus. 

We'd be friends forever!

The woman in the seat next to me was wearing thick purple socks over her shoes.

She was working on a journal entry titled "25 Ways to Kill Your Lover"

It was exhaustive.

Folks, I didn't make any friends on the m e g a b u s that day.

On the ride home, I sprawled across 2 seats.

Nobody sat next to me. I pretended to be asleep.

Dejected and alone, I was cheered by one thing:

I brought a baggie of Sunflower Pesto Corn Salad & ate it with a plastic Wendy's fork, 

no longer caring whether food accumulated upon my personage. Or in my teeth.

Filling up at the Quick Tip: Crummies

I have a tip for y'all right quick.

You folks remember all those extra pieces of bread I've been saving up lately? 

From my half a peanut butter toast? The crust off the eggplant sandwich? Bread heels?

Uhh....

Well, I accumulate a lot of extra bits of bread. 

It's tough to use a whole loaf as a single person in the time granted by the expiration date.

My habit of eating half slices of bread for things doesn't exactly help.

What's a body to do with all that extra bread???

Berenjena el Almuerzo

Having a nice week, y'all?

I certainly am.
I went s a l s a  d a n c i n g last night. 
It was Cuban style.

"Woohoo!" I thought to myself.

"This will be fun. Easy!"

"Why, it' s only fancy walking!"

Not quite.

I was terrible. More terrible than anyone else there.

More terrible than my stiff, birdlike roommate Paul.

A girl actually asked him to dance with her!

Just when I thought I was finally getting the hang of it, the instructor would stare meaningfully at me and cheerily remind "everyone" that no one was perfect!

It just took time!

You're supposed to be turning right!

Other right!

Folks, I can't dance.
But I can make sandwiches!

I enjoyed this satiating eggplant sandwich to replenish all the energy I lost fumbling around the dance floor.

I also enjoyed an extra whiskey after exhausting my drink ticket.

I Can Hear the Mermaids Singing, Peach to Peach

Sleep alright, y'all?

I was not treated to a peaceful repose last night myself.

This is not why.

No. 

Convincing people into my rock hard, way-too-small 20 year old half of a bunk bed does not happen with alarming frequency. Obviously my bed is the only thing standing between me and a sex life.

Bunk beds may seem awesome, folks. 

(You can build hotwheel tracks off the top! Or drape blankets for a fort!)

But there is  an unavoidable reality  when it  comes to adults sleeping in bunk beds.

& it is stark.

Awesome bunk beds: a great way to appear as if you want to lure children into your home!

I needed something refreshing after a night in my horrible infirm (pun intended--old&hard???) half a bunk bed.

I needed a peach smoothie to brighten up my day.

And some peanut butter toast.

I love how the peach skin looks in the smoothie.

Silky Pasta

Bonjourno, y'all!

I've never had a taste for Italian food. Whenever its served, my countenance sours.
Oh. You got lasagna? Perhaps I could eat some old leftovers from your fridge? 
What did you have yesterday? Meatloaf?


Isn't Italian food just a delivery system for butter & cheese? 
...
What?

"No!", you say? "What about the vino", you wonder? "Polenta is basically grits", you'd remind me? "Surely you eat arrosticini fairly regularly?" you'd marvel?

Well, Grand Inquisitor, riddle me this.
It'd stump even Bilbo Baggins himself, I wager.

How do you explain the Olive Garden???

Oh, you can't? That's what I thought.

Folks, I know Olive Garden is not the only eatery proffering Italian-American fare. 
I am aware of the possibility that Olive Garden is not authentic Italian food.

I don't care. (I still don't want to eat Italian-style food okay.)

But there is one thing that really gets me jazzed about eating (anything) & that one thing is FREEBIES.

Man oh man do I like free shit.

One of the many personality traits I share with Oprah.

So when one of my brother's friends was moving out of his apartment, and inexplicably throwing his pantry out, I scored some egg noodles.

They had an Italian flag printed right on the box. "Made in Italy," they taunted me. 
Those noodles sat in my pantry forever. Well past the recommended use by date. 

Finally I used some of them last night.
I'll be dratted if I didn't enjoy those egg noodles down to the last bite.

I even ate an extra noodle I found while cleaning out my colander later that evening.

Ugly Waffles

The rooster's crowing, y'all.

That doesn't always mean it's morning. This rooster is vigilant. Alert.

(Loud)

All day long.

Wake the fuck up.

But today it is morning. Ahhh. 

Refreshing. 

Another Georgia summer morning of relaxation, courtesy of the UGA Board of Regents.

They laid me off. Those bastards.

What are we gonna do with all this free time??

Make a time-consuming breakfast,  o f  c o u r s e.

And what could be more comforting on a still-rainy day than ugly waffles? Mmmm. One of my favorites.

One of my favorite healthy breakfasts, anyway.

I call them ugly waffles because they're sort of ugly. They're floppy. Spongey. Beige.

Moist.

They come out in a big pile, and I love them! It's because of the oat flour, folks. It soaks up liquid like you would not believe, especially if you don't cut it with other types of flour.

Which I don't, really. (well, maybe a little other flour)

Eggy and buttery, despite the omission of both yolks and butter, ugly waffles are always a fun way to start the week!