Saturday, May 22, 2010

Breakfast Burritos (version 1.0)

Now, let me get something straight. I really do like getting up, making breakfast for everyone, making coffee, making lunches and getting everyone’s happy ass out the door. Because after the door closes, I plop my happy ass on the couch and sip a very strong cup of coffee. I like my coffee like I like my NBA players. Tall, black and strong. But I like my eggs soft, fluffy and hot. Just like Kevin James. (I’ve gotta a little “thing” for him). But I digress. Let’s make some mother fucking breakfast, shall we?

Shit you’re gonna need:

Tbsp of butta

2 eggs

1 tbsp of whipping cream (if you’re stuffing more than just your very own pie hole and you want to make more eggs, do the freakin’ math on the cream. 1 tbsp of cream with 2 eggs and so forth. It’s rocket science math you’re dealing with but I trust you can do it)

¼ cup of diced onion

¼ cup of diced green pepper (holy macaroni these fuckers are expensive. Who’s with me?)

Salt (again, I use Sea Salt. Why? Cuz Martha does.)

Pepper

2 tortilla wraps

Sliced cheese

Shit you’re gonna do:

Heat up a small saucepan and melt your butter. (That sentence should actually be the intro to every freakin’ recipe I write.) While that’s melting, beat together your eggs and whipping cream. (I giggle that the word “beat” and “cream” are in the same sentence. Why yes, I AM that kind of girl). Let’s carry on…so into the melted butta, add your onion and green pepper and get those puppies cookin’. I cook ‘em for about a minute or two so they soak up the very healthy and very good for you butter in the pan. Add your eggs, salt and pepper. Now, let me stress that eggs are not made to be fast. Take your time. They like to be heated up slowly, and not touched a whole lot. Kinda like the first time you…nevermind. But just pull the eggs from the side of the pan into the middle. You don’t need to do much ‘cause the cream is doing all the work. (omg, I cracked myself up with that one). You’ll know when they’re done. You like ‘em runny, do it. You like ‘em dry, do it. (Seriously, this egg recipe is cracking my ass UP!) But can I make one suggestion here? Tabasco sauce. It’ll change your life people. I’m not sayin’ douse ‘em in this shit. I’m just sayin’ it adds that little something extra. Kinda like when you end up on a flight where you’re pissed because you know you have a middle seat but come to find out to your right is a hot gymnast and to your left is an army man dressed in uniform smelling good. Now I’m not saying that’s actually happened. I’m just sayin it would be nice. Just like a hint of Tabasco. Just a suggestion.


But what I do in the morning for the hubs is I heat up one of those really good for you sausage patties from the freezer, dice it and put in a wrap with cheese and the eggs. I roll ‘em doobie tight in aluminum foil and place those fuckers right next to his coffee, his keys, his wallet (after I take $20) and his phone. I do this all because I probably went over my grocery budget because white wine was on sale and I just HAD to buy more manchego. I’ll serve him the breakfast above and I’ll show him dessert when he gets home. No complaints my friends. Guaranteed.





Enjoy!

Friday, May 14, 2010

French Toast. I like the French. Especially the way they kiss.

The French toast I grew up with was soggy in the middle. Fucking gross. But this shit is perfect. I give props to two people for this…Food Network magazine and the hubs, cuz he bought me the subscription.

This is the kind of breakfast you make someone when you want something. I want a new dress that I saw at Betsey Johnson. No, I’m not spoiled – I’m smart. I’m also not conceded. I’m convinced.

Shit you’re gonna need:

3 eggs

¼ cup of whipping cream

1 teaspoon of vanilla (use the real shit here people. No joke)

½ teaspoon of nutmeg (there’s that damn nutmeg again, being all versatile, just like edible underwear)

½ teaspoon of sugar

Pinch of salt (I use sea salt. I use it because Martha uses it. That’s my only reason)

Loaf of bakery bread (you can use challah, which I think is pronounced “holla!”, or even French bread, but here I used sourdough because it was on sale and you all know what a cheap ass I am)

Butter (the cottage cheese on my ass just tingled when I wrote that)

Shit you’re gonna do:

Preheat your oven to 350. That’s right – not only are we gonna fry this shit in butter, we’re gonna bake the hell out of it. So, melt a tablespoon of butter in your pan and let’s get to slicing up that bread. Now, I didn’t go to the School of How to Chop Shit. Nor did I attend the Vo-tech University of Slicing and Dicing. So, if you want to slice your bread all at an angle and shit…go for it. I can’t do it. Because I’m obviously a ruh-tard when it comes to using a fucking knife. But cut up enough that your family is gonna eat. In the meantime, let’s mix our dipping shit.

Whisk together your eggs, whipping cream, vanilla, nutmeg, sugar and salt in a bowl. I could’ve just said “Whisk the first six ingredients.” But I didn’t. I didn’t want you to have to look back up there and count that shit. But if you want to look back up there and count, go for it. I’ll wait.

See? Told ya. But once that’s all mixed and your bread is cut up, your butter should be melted. So, dip the bread in the sloppy shit and then plop it in the pan. Don’t overcrowd it because you’ll be pissed when you don’t have enough room to dig your spatula in and flip this shit. When one side is brown (you can peak a little), flip it and wait for the other side to brown. When it’s done, take the pieces out and lay them on a baking sheet. You’ll probably need to add another tablespoon of butter to fry the next batch, so go for it…cuz butter is good for you; don’t believe the haters. Once your batches are done, bake these bad boys for about 10 minutes. They’s gonna be all crispy and brown and full of goodness. Now pour on some Aunt Jemima and stick this in your pie hole.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Bacon grease; a tale of a good beating

In honor of this past Mother's Day weekend, I thought I'd share this with you. My mom was born and raised in Georgia. Bacon grease should be on her family plaque. So, when I was about eight years old or so, I thought "hey, wouldn't it be nice if I cleaned the kitchen for mom?". Nobody answered me because I was raised an only child. But being a latch key kid, I had to amuse myself until the queen, er, I mean, mom came home. Gotta give the woman credit; she worked a really stressful job and came home to my lonely ass who talked her ear off as if I'd been in solitary confinement for three months. Tidbit about my mom...she's NOT a talker and she doesn't understand why in the world people talk when they don't need to. We butt heads...a lot. But she's got some really good dirty jokes and for that, I'm thankful.

So, on to me cleaning the kitchen...I cleaned everything...even her silver metal jar thingy of bacon grease. I'm sure it had about three months worth of fat in that damn thing. It goes to say that not only did I learn about the precious fatty gold that Southern Women so patiently reserve for delicious meals for their families (odd because it's the worst shit ever to put in your body besides fucking hot dogs), but I learned that my mother has a lot of restraint. I'm sure she wanted to beat the living shit out of me and it wouldn't be the first time. But she didn't. And that's why I'm able to write you this story today that means absolutely nothing. Just know that you should never, ever throw away saved bacon grease. Ever. I love you mom.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Hershey needs to pay me for this shit

After stuffing my big ass mouth with half a bag of Hershey’s Bliss Chocolate, I realized that my chocolate craving was not only unsatisfied, but my ass and thighs were yet to be filled. Walgreens has a 2/$6 deal going on for these little suckers but I’m way too fucking lazy tonight to go get more. I’m also babysitting my friend Ariel’s kids tonight and I’m soooo not dragging four boys to Walgreens. Especially not to the candy aisle. Do ya’ feel me here? So, I used what I had.

Bitchin’ Bliss Brownies

Shit you’re gonna need:

1 box of brownie mix (don’t judge me for using a premade mix. I need to get this shit into my pie hole in 8.3 seconds and this is the fastest way to do it. I also need to make this shit quick because the hubs was in the shower and I didn’t want anyone else fucking with the batter in the bowl. That shit is MINE.)

You’ll also need the shit that it tells you on the box (mine said oil, water and eggs)

16 Bliss candies (16 is all I had. Yes, that’s all I had left after eating two entire bags myself. I’m a fucking loser. Thank you.)



Shit you’re gonna do:

Preheat your oven to 350. Please remember to do this. I forgot. So, after I was ready to put the shit in, my oven was as cold as a witch’s tit. I was pissed because that meant that I had to wait an extra 10 minutes for this shit to get into my face.

Now, make your mix according to your box directions. Mine is for the 9x13 size, so I used my Kitchen KY (non-stick spray) on my pan and poured the mixed batter in. Btw, most premade brownie mixes will tell you to stir for about 50 strokes. Believe them when they tell you this. It has something to do with the gluten being all shredded and shit. I don’t fucking know. Call Alton. So, after it’s poured in your pan, you’ll get a calculator out and perform an equation close to the theory of relativity to get the exact proportions of where to put the fucking chocolates. Fuuuuuuuck that. Eye ball this shit. I’m just a perfect person, so mine is exactly even. But DO NOT, I repeat, do not press down the chocolate. Just lay them gently on top. There’s baking powder in this shit so it’s gonna rise around the chocolate during baking.

After the chocolates are on, throw this bad boy in the oven and bake according to the box’s directions. And then my loves, you will have one hell of a chocolate masterpiece on your hands. Your mouth will be happy. The planets will align. And nobody will get hurt because you don’t have anymore chocolate. I’ll now wait for Oprah to call and say “thank you”. Because I’m sure she’s reading this.