Hey! Something About Pie!

There seems to be only one school of thought when it comes to pie crust: lard, butter, flour, water.

Well I'm going to shock you.  My pie crust has more ingredients.  Three more.

I'm sure every baker worth his salt would faint when I say this, but I rely on chemical reaction and not temperature.

Whoever wants to know about a pie crust that is easier to work with, flakier and tastier, just let me know and I send you the recipe.

It took me two years to get this right, but you can benefit from my effort.

Thanks Diana!

The great stitched postcard swap!  Do it!  Today!

http://aspecialjourneyofmyown.blogspot.com/2010/05/join-great-big-stitched-postcard-swap.html

I Rock a Stove so Hard it Should be Moshing

I made dinner tonight. 

I know most of you will think, "So?"

Seriously though, you should really know that this is a major event worthy of boundless celebration as I am quite accomplished at turning average food stuffs into delightful morsels. 

I roasted a lovely and tender "grass fed" shoulder roast with the obligatory carrots, onion and celery.  I added a bit of salt, paprika, ginger powder (for real, try it), black peppercorn and a dash of pineapple juice.  Pineapple juice helps to tenderize the meat and adds subtle sweetness.  I also wilted some beautiful spinach, with olive and garlic, that I picked up from the Decatur farmer's market.

But the crowd pleaser is always the roasted potatoes.  I roasted them in olive oil and a bit of salt and surrounded them in thick wedges of Vidalia onions.  As the potatoes came out of the oven I tossed them with finely chopped oregano and rosemary from my patio.

This was the pulled together, last minute dinner mind you.  Don't you just want to live with me?

Reasons Why I Love Atlanta #153

Awesomes Signs:

Misspelled Signs:

On the same block, on my way to and from the restaurant J.P. (fiance and all around awesome dude) and I went to tonight with dear and awesome friends.

A Layman's Guide to Retail Speak

Have you ever wondered if your salesperson means something different from what's he or she is saying?  Well the answer is most likely yes and here's a quick translation:

"That dress would be too voluminous on your small frame."
We do not have that dress in stock but I'm just going to blame it on your height.

"Those shoes are so cute on you!"
This is the hundredth time I have said that in the past two hours, I just need an in so I can tell you about our discount card program.  Oh, and I actually think those shoes are hideous.

"I understand, this is a big decision, why don't you go and have a coffee and talk about it?"
I am super tired of your indecisiveness and I really need to go pee/take my break/smoke/drink my coffee.

"We sure do have a lot of varieties of x-product, here's a catalog with full descriptions of each.  Why don't you peruse that and I'll be back with you."
There are people waiting behind you while you ply me with redundant questions.  They will spend more money than you and ask less questions.  Step aside.

"Excellent choice."
Thank God you finally made a choice.

"That looks fabulous on you!"
That has a price tag that makes me very happy.

"Oh isn't he/she adorable!"
Your child is tearing up my store.

"Of course he/she's not being any trouble at all.  I wish all the children in here where as well behaved."
Your child is tearing up my store.

"He/she is a real spitfire huh?"
Your child is tearing up my store and now annoying other customers.

"So adorable."
I hate you and your stupid child.

"Well, it's been super great working with you, hope to see you soon!"
Get out, you smell.

I Hate You, New Roll of Toilet Paper

Listen up buddy; when I go to the bathroom I just want to pee and get out of there as quickly as possible. When I am confronted by you, New Roll of Toilet Paper, it messes up all of my plans. I know what you’re thinking, “What could possibly be wrong with a brand new, shiny roll like me?” Well I’ll tell ya.




First of all, there’s that glue. Try as I might to pull on your first sheet evenly it still rips in half vertically and then I try to pull the half that’s still glued down and that rips in half too. I then realize that I have only freed the first ply. I then have to commence picking at the second ply only to end up tearing the plies underneath.



Now that I’ve shredded a large amount of TP into an almost unrecognizable heap, I still have to get past the glue on the underneath layer, because really, I don’t know what that glue is made of and I’m not sure I want to be exposing my nether regions to it.



Now I have an alarming amount of TP in my hands that I feel guilty about throwing away because it is wasteful and bad for the planet because it’s made out of trees and tossing things willy nilly makes Indians cry. I can’t use it because of the glue that I have now convinced myself is full of carcinogenic chemicals that will give me hooha cancer. Not to mention if I did use the shredded TP it would probably get all linty on me and I would need to jump in the shower to get rid of the linty-ness and now I’m wasting water and I fall into an environment waste shame spiral when all I really wanted to do was pee!



Why do you have to have that impossible glue?!? Why not like a rubber band or something? Rubber is a renewable resource and rubber bands are reusable products. I wouldn’t end up questioning my beliefs while on the pot if you just used a rubber band. Isn’t the satisfaction and sanity of your loyal users important to you?



Thank you for listening, I will look for rubber band wrapped toilet paper to be available in my local grocery emporium soon.



Sincerely,

Rikki

In Retrospect

So JP (fiancé and all around awesome dude) and I went to lunch and to the William Breman Jewish Heritage and Holocaust Museum today.

I guess I should back up and say first that I got up this morning got ready and went to work, only to find out that if I had just looked at my cell phone I could have stayed in bed because they called me and told me I didn't need to come in.

So when I got home from thoroughly embarrassing myself in front of my boss and coworkers, JP said, “Hey, since you’re already dressed, let’s go to lunch!” At lunch we decided to go the Breman Museum and check out the Dr. Seuss Goes to War...and More! exhibit since we were so close. I was super excited! “Yay! I love Dr, Seuss! This is going to awesome!” I thought to myself. Having been to the Jim Henson exhibit, the Norman Rockwell exhibit and the like, I felt I had a good idea what this exhibit was going to be like.

I was wrong.

The William Breman Jewish Heritage and Holocaust Museum is locked down tight, like a military base at war time.

We had to get buzzed through the front gate, buzzed into the building, sign in, show two forms of ID, get patted down and have our vehicle searched. (OK, only true up until the two forms of ID.) And that kind of security at a museum just gives you a hinky feeling. We then had to shell out twenty bucks, and listen to an almost ten minute diatribe about the layout and current exhibits of a building roughly half the size of a DSW shoe store. The explanation was murderously long. As the (I’m sure) nice lady went on and on about where stuff was, the dialog in my brain went like this: “Yay Dr. Seuss! There will be Dr. Seuss stuff I’ve never seen! Yay new cool stuff! The fish and chips at lunch were delicious. Is the lady still talking? Why is the lady still talking? When do I get to look at the Dr. Seuss stuff? I really liked One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish when I was a kid. Why is she still talking?!?! Hhmm, JP is wearing a low-top shoe today, that’s unusual. Did the talk-y lady say something about Horton? I like Horton Hears a Who, that was a cool book. Maybe that will be in there too.” And just when I thought I was going to explode with frustration, the talk-y lady finally stopped and we got to go in. Finally!!!

I was so right! The Dr. Seuss exhibit was really great. It included a Seuss-ian play area where JP and I played. No I do not care that it was made for kids and we are both grown adults. There were things to throw and places to climb into and a xylophone and gongs made out of trash can lids and it was an ADHD paradise.

Then we toured the rest of the museum because although JP has been there before, I have not. The last leg of the tour was the holocaust exhibit which is, I suppose, somewhat expected in a Jewish history museum. I really felt that we needed to see it since A) we paid twenty dollars to be there B) it would seem super crass gentile-y of us to just walk out without looking at the holocaust part and C) I was unprepared for how depressing it would be. I know what you’re thinking, “Rikki, it’s the freaking holocaust what were you expecting???” and yes, I realize that. But somewhere around reading about people being forced to pull out the gold teeth of their dead friends so the Nazi’s could have them, I crashed from my dizzying high of Dr. Seuss awesomeness to the dark low of people are awful and there is no hope for humanity.

So the moral of the story is this: Do the holocaust part first, save Dr. Seuss for last or you’ll end going home and curling up in the fetal position on your couch with a bag of popcorn and the bitter taste of defeat and Coke Zero in your mouth.

Do not go from this

To this

Or it will make you