Friday, December 21, 2012

Cheese Stick-Balls (gotta love a good stick and balls)

My friend, “L” and I were craving crescent rolls and cheese.  We wanted mother fucking cheese in an instant and had drank too much Chardonnay to even think about heading to the local pub for some nasty ass, over fried, greasy cheese sticks.   But boy did we ever try to convince someone to take us.  So, instead, we raided my fridge and found crescent rolls, VOILA!  Cheese sticks for my kids’ lunches, VOILA!  Garlic salt…pizza sauce for dipping…and mother fucking oregano.  JACKPOT! (btw, there are no pictures.  I wasn't sure how they were gonna turn out, but they came out amazing. Shoulda taken pictures.  Sorry 'bout that.)

Shit you’re gonna need: (even though I just gave you the run down of the ingredients, let’s break it down, shall we?)
1 tube of crescent rolls (aka, 8 triangles sent directly from heaven)
4 cheese sticks (yes, these were for my kids’ lunches, but I’m just THAT kind of mom)
garlic salt (you can’t live a full and productive life without this in your cabinet)
dried oregano in a jar (cuz I don’t buy the fresh stuff)
Pizza sauce (the kind in the jar that you pull out of the cabinet and realize the use by date is two weeks past, but you’ve had enough wine to say, “Fuck it. There’s preservatives in this shit.  We’ll be fine.”

Shit you’re gonna do:
Preheat your oven to 375, I believe.  I’ve since thrown away the package, so I’m not sure what the crescent roll package says, so please confirm with the tube you have, because my wacky ass is probably wrong.

While the oven is preheating, cut your cheese sticks in half.  That way, you’ll have the eight needed for the eight crescent triangles.  Spray a baking sheet with Kitchen KY (aka, non stick cooking spray, for you newbies out there) and set it aside. 

You’re gonna unroll each crescent triangle and then plop down one of the cut cheese sticks at the end of the fat part of the triangle.  Then, lay the corners of the fat part over the cheese stick and the roll that bitch up.  The goal is to make sure the cheese stick is completely covered so that none of that over processed, calcium goodness leaks out. 

Once you’ve gotten all eight of them rolled up, put them on your baking sheet, sprinkle with garlic salt and oregano, and then bake for about 14 minutes.  Again, please confirm the time with the tube of crescent rolls that you used.  Seriously.  I’m really bad at that shit and I don’t want your panties in a wad that I told you the wrong time.  And don’t be stupid.  Put a timer on.  If you don’t, that wine will most definitely help you forget when you actually put those little bastards in the oven.  Trust me.  I know.  I’ll look right at the fucking clock and go “Yep. 7:14pm.  I need to take them out of the oven at 7:27pm.”  And who the hell do you think forgot in .00035 seconds later.  This girl right here.

Now, once your little cheese stick-balls are done, please do not.  I repeat.  Do not put these directly into your pie hole.  The inside of these little fuckers is gonna be the same temperature as the fucking sun, so put down the rolls, walk away and go watch “Ain’t Nobody Got Time For That” on youtube.  After you’ve peed a little from watching that video eight times, feel free to pour off a side of that pizza sauce and dip these little bad boys in and chow the fuck down.  Not gonna lie.  We were waiting on two of our other girlfriends to get to my house to share these.  We had three each.  They only had one each.  Sucks when you’re late.  Lesson learned.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

My Effing Rules for Men

While farting around on the world wide web, I came across an “expert” column that advised its readers on “Five Ways to Satisfy Your Woman”.  I thought, “Alright.  Let’s see whatcha got.” Good. Lord.  If you’re twelve and trying to get a date for the eighth grade dance, by all means, follow that advice.  But if you’re a grown up.  Like, a real grown up.  A grown up that can shoot tequila and still recite your times tables and the Preamble, then you’ll need a new set of rules.  My rules.  Follow along…but first…

Dear Women Readers,

If you read the below rules and think “OMG.  This is so crass and so wrong.  This is NOT the way I would want to be treated.”  Then let me tell you something.  Get off your unicorn, climb down the steps of the tower you’re waiting to be rescued from, and buy a thong.  This is the real world, baby.  Deal with it.


Their rule number one:  “Tell Her You Love Her”

My rule number one:  Bullllllllllllshit.  Rule number one and what will always BE number one is, “Learn How to Go Down on a Girl BEFORE you tell her you love her.”  Don’t get me wrong, every girl wants to hear “I love you.”; I get it.  I’m one of those girls.  But, before you get to that, you need to know how to take a good muff dive.  If you’re unsure of yourself, search the web, watch porn (like I have to even tell you to do that), practice on a peach, whatever.  Just get good at it.  And THEN, after 4,327 licks, you’ll get to the center of that tootsie roll pop.  And rest assured my friend, you’ll even get an “I love you” back. 
But AFTER you get your bob knobbed.  Just keepin’ it real, fellas.

Their rule number two:  “Listen to Her”

My rule number two:  “Listen to Her…bitch and moan.”  Yes.  I mean that.  Sometimes a girl just needs to vent.  But men?  You guys like to “fix it”.  We may not need you to fix anything.  We just need you to be that one thing in the room that’s converting oxygen to carbon dioxide and finish by saying, “Can I make you a drink?”  By the time she’s done bitching about who did what to her and “You’ll never believe what this bitch at work did!” she’ll be telling her friends the next day, “He’s SUCH a good listener.”  I’m not saying you have to retain everything she says here, you may just need to hit your record button.  Take in enough that you can recite a few lines back and you’re solid.  She’ll be all “Omg, baby, you totally understand me.” And BAM, you get laid.  It might be twenty minutes of her bitching for your two minutes in the bedroom, but that’s your problem, not hers and I’ll refer you back to rule number one.

Their rule number three:  “Compliment her”

My rule number three:  “Compliment her…on what a bad ass she is.”  Skip the “Those jeans look amazing on you.”  She won’t believe you anyways, so find a personality trait to compliment her on.  Be impressed by her accomplishments even if you don’t know what underwater basket weaving is.  That’s why Jesus invented smart phones.  Head to the first page of google and fill your head with important girl shit like, the exact rules for Bunco and the difference if between a Muscato and a Chardonnay.

Their rule number four:  “Don’t flirt!”

My rule number four: “Don’t flirt…with other people”  I’m sure that’s what they meant, but seriously, if you’re in public with your girl, FLIRT WITH HER.  A kiss on the neck is a little PDA, yes, but an extreme turn on.  A squeeze on the thigh under the table.  An ass grab while waiting for your table.  And if you’re really brave and you’ve been out a few times, I triple dog dare you to whisper in her ear, “I can’t wait to wake up with you in the morning.”  Whammo!

Their rule number five:  “Take Her Out More Often”  They also say this “…this is another way to satisfy your woman and make her happy. Take your woman out with you whenever you are going out with friends. Have fun with her. You can take her to nice restaurants and even shopping. You don’t necessarily need to spend – all she wants is for you to spend some quality time with her.”

My rule number five: “Don’t call her ‘woman’” and yes, “Take Her Out”, but honestly, knowing me and my girls, we love to dress up and go out every now and then, but boy do we like hanging out in yoga pants, opening a bottle of wine, cooking dinner with our guy, and watching a movie.  If you’re lucky, you won’t even get to see the whole movie. Hehe.  Seriously, if you dig this girl, you’ll love her in yoga pants.  If you don’t want this girl in sweat pants and no make up, then you don’t deserve her in lingerie or even a wedding dress.

God speed, lads.  God. Speed.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

A kick in the taco pasta

Tacos are dramatic.  Are they not?  Seriously, all the shit you have to buy…the shells (and then you’re all “omg, do I get crispy or soft?”), the tomatoes, the lettuce, the cheese (which you should probably already have, but still…), sour cream, the meat, the onion, the taco seasoning, errrrrrgh.  And on top of that, taking the leftovers to work the next day is a crock of shit and fucking complicated.  So, I make a pasta dish out of it.  And not only do I shovel this into my pie hole, so do my kids.  Winning!

Shit you’re gonna need:
1 pound of ground beef (if you have yet to reach puberty and your balls haven’t dropped yet, use ground turkey.  But if you’re a real man, or better yet, a woman, use red meat.  Don’t be a puss.)
Half a large onion, chopped (fucking hate chopping; I suck at it)
2 garlic cloves, minced (if I thought I hated chopping onions, I for damn sure hate chopping garlic.  I imagine it’s how Hagrid feels chopping a muggle size onion. You understand, yes?)
1 can of diced tomatoes, drained (Call me crazy, which most people do, I love opening these.  Only because it smells like a bloody mary when you open the can.  It also reminds me of the pickled asparagus the boyfriend’s dad makes for a good ‘ol hair of the dog. Nom, nom, nom.)
3 to 4 tablespoons of taco seasoning (I buy this by the canister because I use it a lot.  When I buy those little packets, or at least I thought I did, I get pissed when I’m all “Shit. I thought I had it.” And no.  I don’t make my own.  That’s like making pancake mix from scratch.  Why?  It’s already done.  Make things easy people. Save time for things like playing Yahtzee and watching Family Guy in the nude.
Cooked pasta with about ½ cup of the pasta water saved (I’m honestly not sure how much.  I’m about as good at measuring pasta as I am chopping onions.  Shit doesn’t work for me.  So, I make the whole box and just save what I don’t use.)
½ cup of sour cream (yeah boy!)
3 oz of cream cheese (there we go!)

Shit you’re gonna do:

Start by cooking your onions until they’re tender.  Add your garlic for like, a minute, so it doesn’t burn and then add your beef.  “Beef”, what a solid word.  It’s strong like, “ox”, “crowbar”, and “carburetor”.

Once that’s done cooking, I highly recommend you draining the fat off and rinsing it.  I understand you’re about to put cream cheese in, but it’s not necessarily the calories I’m talking about here; I’m talking about grease.  It just doesn’t make for easy stirring and even consistency.  I’m not looking out for your thighs here people, just your presentation.  Because I’m a good friend.

Put your meat back in the pan and set the temperature somewhere between low and medium.  Would that be medium low, or low medium?  Hmmm.  Then add your tomatoes, your taco seasoning, your pasta water, the cream cheese, and the sour cream.  Now stir until it’s all swirling around in a melody of epicurious love.  Add as much pasta as you want (I don’t add too much because honestly, I’d rather just slurp this shit straight from a straw, but hey, you do what you want.).  You could probably put fresh cilantro on it, but seriously, why?

Now, doesn’t this seem easier to take to work for lunch the next day?  I know.

Monday, June 25, 2012

I want a Krystal burger but it’s not 2am and I’m not shit faced drunk. But this will do.

Crescent Burgers (aka, Krystal and White Castle taste-a-likes)

Not to proud to admit this, but I’ve never eaten a Krystal burger sober.  I was, however completely sober by the time the “after effect” of those damned things hit me.  Greek mythology wasn’t the only thing I learned in college.  Hehe.

The original recipe for these made only half.  Why the hell would you make just “a little” of something that tastes so mother trucking good?  That’s like “Oh, that glass of wine that you just poured?  You can only have half”.  Stupid.  So, I like to live life on the edge; go out on a limb; put my big girl panties on and just go for it.  So, I doubled the recipe.  No regrets here, my fine people.  No. Regrets.  Had enough for me and my hot preschool teacher friend to stuff our pie hole and STILL enough to freeze for when I’m shit faced drunk at 2am.  But whatevs.

Shit you’re gonna need:
2 cans of crescent rolls (just in case your application to MENSA was denied, that totals 16 crescent burgers)
1 pound of ground beef (I just found out that red meant isn’t good for you.  Bullshit.  That is complete and udder bullshit.  Don’t believe the haters.  And if you tell me that sex is bad for me too, well then, expect to get punched in the esophagus.)
1 large onion (you be needed lots of this to get that 2am taste)
‘bout 4 big splashes of worteshire sauce (I had no idea how to properly pronounce that word until I saw Shrek.  Anyone feel me on this one?)
2 big ass handfuls of shredded cheese (I think I used cheddar jack.  But sharp cheddar would be just as satisfactional.)
1 egg
1 tablespoon of water

Shit you’re gonna do:
Preheat your oven to 375 and then spray down a baking sheet with some kitchen KY.  The crescent rolls have enough butter in them to where they wouldn’t really stick, but just like an ex-girlfriend, let’s just be safe here.

Now, sauté your onion until it’s tender and then add your meat.  Cook that until it’s done and then I strongly suggest you rinse and drain this.  The grease, although fucking delicious, will NOT help you put these burgers together.  Let’s leave the grease to the professionals, aka, Krystals.  When you've rinsed and drained, add your handfuls of cheese and stir.

Here comes the part where I totally fuck up your mind by trying to explain how to make these.  After a few vodka tonics, I tried my best to take pictures that would qualify for Life magazine, but I realize that’s a pipe dream.  So, let’s just follow along with the pictures.  Brace yourself…

You’ll need to separate your triangles.  Then put about two tablespoons of the meat mixture on the fat end of your triangle.  Not sure how else to describe that.

Then take your skinny end, flop that shit over the meat so that the point goes over the fat end.  (Shit.  I’m so annoyed at myself at describing this.)

Now, take your fat ends and lay them on top so that their little ends touch or even overlap.

Then ever so gently, like the bosom of an angel, you’ll lift up your little patty and tuck the skinny end under it and then back over and lay it on your baking sheet.  Got that?  Good.  Repeat 15 more times.

Then you’ll need a hot ass preschool teacher like I have here to mix one beaten egg (we won’t joke about the things she likes to beat.  She’s a teacher for goodness sake!) and the tablespoon of water and mix with a  fork.  I couldn’t find a brush to “wash” these things with, so we poured it with a spoon and rubbed it in.  Rubbing works.  Always.

 Baked this schnizz for about 15 minutes until golden brown!  We had eight leftover, which I happily put in the freezer only to heat up two weeks later.  If you do that, just know that it worked.  Feel free to freeze the leftovers and when you’re drunk at 2am, pop these bad boys in the oven at 350 for about 15 minutes. 

Serve with mustard only.  You're an asshole if you use ketchup.  You're also an asshole if you spell it "catsup".  Only the dollar store brand spells it that way.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Fish in a bag, baby! ~submitted by Patty

(My own half-assed “recipe” for lack of a better term.  Calling it “throw some shit together and hope for the best” would also be a good term)

The first time I had this was at an over-priced and overly-decorated (yah mon) restaurant, and I fell in complete lust with it, and proceeded to jones for it for months.  Turns out that the restaurant doesn’t even make it anymore, so I had to figure that shit out for myself. 

A couple of nice things about making it at home are a) eating in my PJ’s (or Bra and Panties* when the kids are at their Dad’s), and b) finishing off the rest of the bottle that didn’t go in the recipe. 

*Note – Never EVER cook nude.  Bad things happen.

Shit you’re gonna need –
Couple of Filets of Fish (one per person – or more, I suppose, if you’re hungry)
A Lemon
Clove of Garlic
Olive Oil
Fresh Dill
White Wine (dryer the better)
Salt and Pepper
Parchment Paper (Not waxed – No “essence of crayola” here, ew)

Shit you’re gonna do

Set your oven to 350.  While it’s getting hot, bust out your favorite zesting tool. I use a Microplane grater, but maybe you’re lucky enough to have a fancy-pants Zester.  Strip the whole lemon (insert your favorite porn music here), and set the poor naked fruit aside.  Take your clove of garlic and slice it up really thin.  If you really like garlic, please feel free to use more than one clove.  Snag a couple sprigs of the fresh dill and strip off the leaves(?).  Note how careful I am with my measurements.

Get out a regular sized baking sheet (one with raised sides preferably, to catch any leakage) and pull a large enough sheet of parchment to fold in half and still fit the width of the pan. Lube up one half of the paper with the Olive Oil (doesn’t have to be extra virgin or anything. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be olive oil, I guess…just lube it up with something.)  Take your sliced Garlic and lay it out in the oil.

Fish time!!!  I used Tilapia for this because, well…Lots of reasons really.  First…shit’s cheap.  Second, screw Tuna being chicken of the sea – Tuna is always gonna taste like Tuna, Tilapia is going to taste like whatever you cook it in, just like chicken. I say the “Chicken of the Sea” Crown should go to Tilapia! Regimental overthrow!!!!!  But honestly, you can pretty much use any fish you want.  The Rasta Restaurant used Mahi-Mahi which is also delicious, nice and firm and meaty (just the way I like it, yeah), but it’s also more expensive. 

Anyway, fish…yes, let’s get back to the fish.  Salt and pepper one side, and then lay it on the parchment, overlapping is fine, but I’d stick the skinny sides on top of each other so it cooks evenly. Make sure that you leave a good amount of paper on the loose sides; you’re gonna need it.

Time to dress the fish!  Take your lemon zest and your dill and sprinkle them as evenly as you can over the filets. Next, roll your discarded (and probably needy) lemon on the counter a couple of times to soften it up, cut it in half, and squeeze it right over the fish (if you squeeze it cut side up – no seeds).  Then take your $10.99 bottle of Chardonnay, pour yourself a glass, and then pour a little of it over your fish, too.

Now for the hard part. As carefully as you can, fold up the sides of the parchment making it into a sealed “bag.”  Start with one side and kind of make little crimping folds all the way around until it’s completely closed.  Make sure that there aren’t any gaps for the steam to escape while it’s cooking.  If you happen to have a stapler at home, staple that bitch shut. 

Stick the pan in the oven and bake it for about 20 minutes.

Open it carefully, because it’s gonna be steamy. Serve it with whatever you wanna serve it with.  I had mine with Brown Rice (cooked in vegetable broth and recaito) and Green Beans.

Now, this is how I made it…this time.  The time before this, I used a couple of different herbs.  You could throw some vegetables in the bag too if you want; tomatoes, zucchini, or asparagus maybe.  Whatever Creams your Twinkie. Proceed to drink the rest of the bottle of wine.  You can even share the bottle if you like.  I, however, did not.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Faking It.

This is the ONLY time you will ever hear of me faking it.  Just sayin'.

It rained so muthertruckin much this week, that I swear I fucking floated to work.  Which leads me to believe that I apparently missed the memo from God where I was supposed to build an ark.  So me and the kids were locked in the house today which meant I had to get creative.  Aka, go on pinterest for three hours and claim that “mommy is working”.

Here’s the original link because gotta give credit where credit is due.  I changed some stufft up because for some reason, no matter how much shit is in this house to cook with, I never have what I need.  Son of a bitch.

Shit you’re gonna need:
3 bananas (Use the spotted, five day old ones if you have them.  I didn’t because I just bought these yesterday.  I could’ve used the whole bunch of five that I had on hand but heaven forbid my kids wake up in the morning and don’t have a fucking banana.
1 ½ heaping tablespoons of peanut butter (the original recipe called for “natural”.  Fuck that.  I’ll buy natural peanut butter the day we find out what Lady Gaga’s natural hair color is.)
2 tablespoons of hot cocoa mix (again, the original recipe called for dutch processed cocoa powerd.  Use it if ya got it.  I don’t.  Call me crazy, but I have no fucking clue what “dutch processed” means.  I actually imagine little tiny men who live in windmills wearing wooden shoes processing the cocoa.)
½ cup of chocolate chips (the original didn’t call for chocolate chips, this was actually my eight year olds idea.  Smart kid.  I guess I won’t sell him the gypsies after all.)

(I know this is only two bananas, but I swear on Trump's toupee that I used three)
Shit you’re gonna do:

Slice the bananas into a bowl or on a plate and stick in the freezer for about an hour.  When they’re done, you’re gonna pull out your beast of a food processor and dust that bitch off.    Fun.

Pulse the bananas until they look like little beads of banana.

Keep pulsing until it’s creamy, hehe.

Then add your peanut butter and your hot cocoa.  Honestly, the cocoa didn’t make that much of a difference but we decided after that fact that a tablespoon of nutella would’ve been amazing with this.  Too bad we polished off our tub of it at breakfast this morning.  Don’t judge.

Once that’s all pulsed together and nice and smooth, stir in the chocolate chips, pour in a bowl and stick in the freezer for about another hour or two.

This is about as healthy as ice cream is ever gonna get, my friends.  My kids are completely convinced that this is the real deal.  They’re now adding shit like sprinkles, and gummy worms to their bowl.  I don’t mind; my second vodka tonic just kicked in.

Monday, May 21, 2012

Slow Cooker Pulled Pork and Root Beer Sandwiches

So -  unfortunately for me, and you I suppose, I can't come up with a catchy/funny/dirty name for these yummy slow cooker pulled pork sandwiches that I made yesterday with a can of root beer and some BBQ sauce. I searched my little inappropriate brain, all the way down to the secret chamber that holds my nastiest thoughts.... nothing. So this is it my friends, Slow Cooker Pulled Pork and Root Beer Sandwiches is the best I could come up with. I need to get out more. And yes, you heard me right --- pulled pork with Root Beer. We're crazy and living on the edge people - join me won't you?

Side note, I don't typically have a can of root beer sitting around my house. My office supplies us with free sodas, so I ganked this can from work. Rebel yell muthatruckas!!!!!!!!

I can't get this freaking picture to turn, no matter what I do. So it's sideways - kinda like me and D1. 

Shit You're Gonna Need: 

  • 2-4 lbs of pork butt. I'm pretty sure this is labeled shoulder, which is obviously retarded.  Get more or less, depending on how many people you're feeding and if any of them are fatties that may each 2 sandwiches.  Oh, and make sure that booty isn't frozen.
  • 1 can of root beer. I've heard of people also doing this with Diet Pepsi or Dr. Pepper. I can not vouch for the latter 2 and how those taste. If you choose a different soda, please let me know how it turns out. If it tastes like shit, your fault - not mine. 
  • 1/2 a bottle of  Sweet Baby Ray's Barbecue Sauce, or your favorite BBQ sauce. I prefer Sweet Baby Ray's because it has a cool name and the shit is good. I also like the Jack Daniels one, for obvious reasons. Pick a favorite and use 1/2 the bottle - ole'!
  • Lawry's Seasoning Salt or Montreal Steak Seasoning. Either will do the job.
  • Some rolls. Rolls usually come in a pack of 8, so that should do it.  You can use those cheap hamburger buns that are like a buck, or even go all out and get some potato rolls. I got my rolls from the "Oops we baked too much" section in my grocer's bakery. Love that shit, roll baker has a hangover and miscounts - I save a dollar. I win! 
  • Your crock pot and 9 hours til chow time.

Shit You're Gonna Do: 
Make sure you do this shit a whole 9 hours before you plan to eat it. Don't get home from work at 6:15pm and think you're gonna throw this together - not gonna happen Sugar. 

To start, take your pork butt out of the package and leave the fat on that hog.  Poke that piggy with a fork and get it nice and ventilated. Then, take your seasoning of choice from the list above and generously sprinkle it all over your swine - both sides.  Pat it on, so it's nice and stuck to the meat.  If you want, you can take this extra step and brown your butt before putting it in the crock pot, but honestly you don't really have to. Heat up a pan with some olive oil and brown your booty on both sides. I did this, but only because I'd had 4 cups of coffee already that morning and had lots of energy. Again, not really a necessity. I'm sure you've got better things to do in the morning than to smell frying pork ass. 

Ok so, where were we? Right..... after you've browned it or if you haven't - next step is throwing that bad boy into your crock pot. Now, be sure that your crock pot is big enough for the size of your meat. Don't you hate when it doesn't fit? Now, pour your can of root beer/diet Pepsi/Dr. Pepper over the meat and cook on low for 7-8 hours. Keep an eye on your pork booty around hour 6 or so and see what it's status is. I find that depending on the meat, the cook-time can vary.  If you put this on before you leave for work in the morning, then you likely can't check it around hour # 6.  I'm going to go out on a limb and say that it will be ok. 

Ok, so after your lovely piece of meat is all cooked up - take that mofo out and onto a plate and shred it up. Leave the soda juice in the crock pot for now, don't pour it out.  Now's a good time to get rid of any excess fat, unless you're into that kinda thing - then you can leave it if you like. Transfer the shredded meat back to your crock pot and let that cook on high for about 30 minutes.  Drain out the juices or dare your drunk neighbor to drink the leftover soda/pork combo  - either way, rid yourself of that nasty stuff. Then pour in your BBQ sauce of choice (1/2 the bottle or about a cup and a half) and mix it up. Slice open a roll and slather that shit in the middle. I served mine with baked beans, like from a can 'cuz I was tipsy at this point and forgot to make a side dish for my sandwiches. Shit, it had been 9 hours since I started cooking, what's a girl to do in the time? Drink, that's what!

Ps - sorry I didn't clean the inside of the white bowl that holds my baked beans so that my presentation was better. Again, I was one bottle of wine in when I took this picture. We're all lucky I even remembered to document my pulled pork journey at this point. 

Enjoy! I know I did. Those little fuckers are insane. Root beer and pork - who knew? 

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Nutella crescent rolls. It’s for lovers.

Disclaimer:  This recipe has cinnamon in it.  Which pretty much means D2 won’t go any further than this sentence right here.  She’s also terrified of birds, but that’s a story for a different day.  That story involves Sea World and me peeing in my pants, but moving on...

Nutella was made by Jesus.  I know this because that shit is heavenly.  Unicorns dance and rainbows shoot through my kitchen window every time I eat it.  I open the vacuum sealed top and it sounds like angels flew straight out of the jar and wrapped their arms around me and sang me a lullaby of hope that all will be better in the world. 

So, it’s only natural to put crescent rolls, sugar, and cinnamon with this most delicious treat.  Thank you pinterest.  Thank you for wasting my time and helping me find ways to get fat and to dream of how organized I wish my home was.

Shit you’re gonna need:
One can of crescent rolls (I totally used generic.  Shocker.)
Nutella (I have a huge ass jar, which makes me wonder why they even sell small jars of this stuff.  I could inhale the small jar up through my left nostril in .009 seconds.)
‘bout a cup of sugar
‘bout a tablespoon of cinnamon

Shit you’re gonna do:
Preheat your oven to 375.  Fish out a baking pan, cover it in foil and spray that bad boy down with some kitchen ky. 

Mix together your cinnamon and sugar in a bowl and set aside.

Cross your legs so you don’t piss yourself when the crescent can pops open.  I need to note that you don’t need your crescent rolls out until you’re absolutely 100% ready to use them.  If they come out of the fridge and sit too long, they get sticky and warm and darn near impossible to work with.  Kinda like a few shitheads I know.  But anyhoo…One at a time, unroll your crescent roll, smear on some nutella and then roll that bad boy up.  Roll the large end down towards the little edge because that’s how the nice people at Pillsbury expect you to do it.  And who are we to go against the bake-off creators who so conveniently forget to even say “thank you” for entering their contest every year.  But I’m not bitter.  “Oh, we’re sorry to inform you, but your recipe looks like shit. And we wouldn’t even feed it to our dog…”  Errrrgh.

But after you roll these up, roll them around in your cinnamon sugar concoction, then lay them on your baking sheet and bake ‘em for about 15 minutes. 

Now, once they’re cooked, you’re really gonna have to a wait a few minutes and let these bastards cool.  Trust me.  I burned a few taste buds and said a few cuss words that I’m pretty sure were in Spanish when I tried to shovel one in right after pulling out of the oven.  Never trust anyone who eats immediately after pulling things out of the oven.  *snicker*  *snort*, lol.  But when they actually do cool down – ‘bout 10 minutes will do ya’- then bite down and enjoy the goodness that is the invention of nutella.  And by the way, every time you eat one, an angel gets its wings.

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Porky’s Revenge Tacos and a tale of the Non-Mexican food aisle.

I’m white.  Like, cracker white.  I was raised in a household where fried chicken, sweet potatoes, and “wife beater” tank tops were of heavy influence.  My grandmother was the richest of us all…she had a double wide trailer and we all helped her take the wheels off.  Fancy.

So, as I was posting on facebook about the pink taco pizza and how I used Chulola sauce, I casually mentioned that it was in the Mexican food aisle.  Well, this caused quite an uproar with D2.  See, she’s not white.  In fact, we are the ebony and ivory of this cooking blog, except that she’s tan; not black.  I’m her family’s token redneck gringa and when my family hears her speak Spanish, they think she’s Mexican.  It’s a match made in fucked up racial heaven. 

In comes my inspiration for this taco.  The boyfriend and I recently took a quick getaway trip to St. Augustine, Florida.  (I added the “Florida” in there in case you yanks weren’t sure where it was.  It’s only about two hours from where I live, hence the “quick getaway” reference.  You caught up now?  Good.)  So, we’re not big into setting up fancy reservations somewhere and getting dolled up just to sit at a table and wonder which fork to use first.  We’re more of a “let’s wander around and find a cool hole in the wall place and hope there’s a happy hour” kind of couple.  So we did.  We found a hole in the wall taco place (The name escapes me. Can’t imagine why.) that had graffiti on the walls and was packed with people.  We ordered the UFO burrito.  Since I had the pleasure of putting such deliciousness into my pie hole (dirty thought here), I’ve been wanting to recreate it since.  And I think I did.  Here you go…

Shit you’re gonna need:

For the pork:
5 lb Pork butt  (why they call the shoulder the “butt”, is beyond me.  But I didn’t trim the fat.  I figured it gives it extra flavor and a little extra lovin’.)
One large onion (I prefer yellow onions.  Sorta sweet but tough and packed with flavor.  Like me.)
Garlic salt (enough to sprinkle all over the butt)

I cooked this in the crock pot on low for about 8-10 hours.  Once it was done, I took out the fat, shredded it up and then stuck it in the fridge until I knew what the hell I was gonna do with it.

Two days later my “a-ha” moment set in…

For the tacos:
Your shredded pork (honestly, the taco we ordered from the above story was beef, so shredded beef or chicken will work well, too)
A can of black beans, heated and drained
Cheese (I used a Mexican blend [yes D2, it actually said “Mexican” on it])
“the” sauce (Ingredients below)

For the Sauce:
Once cup of plain, non fat yogurt (I just started using this to replace a lot of things.  I’ll explain later, but it sure does save time.  I’m not interested in saving calories, just time and money, kinda like hiring a hooker, or voting in a new congressman)
2 tablespoons of mayo (real mayo here people.  No hellmans nonsense)
6 tablespoons of sour cream (I’m sure there’s a conversion to cups there, but I’m not interested.  I’ve already dirtied a tablespoon, mine as well use that)
1 teaspoon of ground cumin (this stuff smells glorious to me)
½ teaspoon of cayenne pepper (now, don’t get your panties all in a bind and choke on them, it’s not that hot.  But if you haven’t grown a decent pair of balls yet, feel free to add a smidge at a time)
½ teaspoon of garlic salt
Salt and pepper to taste

Mix all this up and then you’ll look at it and say “Shit.  That’s a lot of sauce.”  No it’s not.  Trust me.  You’ll be using this for the inside of the tacos as well as dipping.  My hot ass realtor friend, we’ll call her T, couldn’t get enough.  It’s THAT good.

Now, let’s move on to heating up your pork.

More shit you’ll need:

Your pork from the fridge (now that you know what the hell you’re going to do with it)
2 tablespoons of olive oil (do not EVER say “evoo” around me.  I will punch you right in the esophagus.  Hate that fucking saying.  No offense Rachel…it’s just overused.  Just like my checking account, but I digress…)
3 tablespoons of chili powder (I secretly sniff this stuff and it makes me crave chili cheese fritos.  Weird.  I know.)
½  teaspoon of ground cumin (yep. Used it again.)
½  teaspoon of salt
1 14.5 oz can of diced tomatoes (do NOT drain these)
A pack of 10 tortillas

Shit you’re gonna FINALLY do:

Heat up your olive oil in a dutch oven (that term makes me laugh) and then add in your pork.  You can use a large skillet too if that’s more your fancy.  Then add your chili powder, cumin, salt and diced tomatoes.  Stir that around until it’s heated up and then put it aside so we can put together the tacos.

I needed to press these tacos like they did in St. Augustine, but I don’t have a Panini press.  (Gayest name EVER for a cooking appliance).  So, I heated up the skillet to cook them on and then heated up an iron skillet to sit on top to press them.  My hot, nurse friend, L, said “I don’t have an iron skillet.  What shall I use?”  I then gladly suggested she use a pot filled with water.  Heat that up too so there’s heat on both sides of the smushed taco.  Did ya’ get that?

Once your 924 pans are heated, you’ll need to assemble the tacos.  Heat up the torts in the microwave and then spread ‘er open, put in some pork, lay on the beans, some cheese and then “the sauce”.  I then channeled my Mexican friend, Hector, and rolled that bitch into what resembled a burrito shape (I was two drinks in at this point, my friends, so go easy on me.)  Then I put two in the pan at a time, laid the iron skillet on top and waited until they were brownish, or until my hot brunette realtor friend says “ummm, check yo shit.  They be done.”  And yes.  I said, brownish.  Not brown.  Not white.  Just the ‘ish of brown.  Keep that monotonous assembly line going and after a while, you’ll have a shit load!  As for how long it took.  I really don’t know.  We were shootin’ the shit, pouring more drinks and hoping for the best.  What WAS the best, was the sauce.  Hot Realtor Friend kept going back for more.  I don’t blame her.  I like the sauce.  Double meaning there.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Pink Taco Pizza

Friend: “What recipe are you posting next?”

Me: “Pink taco pizza.”

Friend: “That’s my favorite kind.”

Me: “You’ve had pink taco pizza?”

Friend: “Nope. I stopped listening after ‘pink taco’.”

I’ve got good friends.

Shit you’re gonna need:

1 lb. of ground beef

Taco seasoning (you can buy the premeasured packets, but I have a jar of the premade concoction. That’s how much I use it. So, if you have the jar, use the measurement they give you. I would give it to you, but what’s the point? You’ll look at the jar anyways. So, why should I get my fat ass off the couch to go look.)

Pizza crust (As you can see in the picture, I used the Pillsbury premade stuff. It’s easy, but not cheap. Kinda like an exgirlfriend.)

Can of refried beans (You’re more than welcome to use fat free, but why? You’re using sour cream and cheese, what the hell would make the difference if you used fat free beans? Think you’ll save an artery? Not a chance.)

Cheese (I would suggest using the taco flavored kind, or a Mexican blend of some sort. Gouda won’t work here, people.)

Shredded lettuce


‘bout half a cup of sour cream

Cholula hot sauce (You can find this in the Mexican food aisle. There’s a picture of a hot Mexican lady on it. Kinda like the Chiquita banana chick.)

Shit you’re gonna do:

Preheat your oven to 425. Spread out your pizza dough into a rectangle on an aluminum foil lined pan hosed down with kitchen ky and bake for about eight minutes.

While that’s getting half baked (don’t worry pot heads, we’ll get this shit fully baked in no time), brown your meat, drain and rinse and then put in back in your skillet and add your taco seasoning with HALF the water it suggests you use. You don’t want this watery and getting all gushy on your pizza dough.

When your dough is half baked, spread on your refried beans. Honestly, I have about ¼ of the can left when I do this. If beans are your thing, then slather it on. You can dutch oven your kids when dinner is over. Not that I do that or anything. Moms don’t fart.

After your beans, add your meat and cheese and then bake for another 8-10 minutes or so. While this is cooking, you’ll need to make your pink sauce. Start with about half a cup of sour cream and add your Cholula sauce until it’s pink. But if you’re a wuss and you can’t handle hot, I would keep checking to make sure it doesn’t get too spicy for you. But for me? I have balls, so I keep my shit spicy. Like all Mexican women should be.

(white alien looking arm...niiiiiiiiiiice)

When your pizza is done baking, add your lettuce and tomato…please notice that only half of my pizza has tomato on it because the boyfriend doesn’t like tomato. No problem. Less for me to cut and more for me to eat. I’m a good girlfriend like that.

Now add your sauce. I would just drizzle it on in a zig zag motion and then keep enough on the side for dipping. LOVE to dip. I’m a total dipper. Skinny dipper, sauce dipper, whatever…