Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Meat Candy

Even from the name it sounds completely disgusting but I promise this was one of the most glorious things I ever tasted! Meat Candy!

This little bit of heaven on a toothpick came from my best friend's aunt (who loves to make odd but yummy things like fried biscuits). It also won best recipe at the West Virginia State Fair (this may be the thing that makes you not want to create it but do it anyway!).

Here goes:

1 pound of bacon

1 package of little smokies sausages

1 cup of brown sugar

Cut strips of bacon in thirds. Rap bacon around smokie and secure with toothpick.

Dump brown sugar in a zip-top bag. Place few meat skewers in bag and toss to coat.

Important: place brown sugared meat on foil-lined (best to use that non-stick foil in a double layer) pan.

Bake at (well, here's where it gets tricky...I don't know the back at temp or time so I looked it up on All Recipes and got 350-400 degrees for 20-40 minutes). Basically, you bake these treats until the bacon gets crispy and the sugar gets bubbly.

This will be the best thing you ever eat! But be warned...once you start you can't stop. I ate too much meat candy last week but that's not stopping me from making it for my staff Christmas party.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006


I have a cold.

Today I ran out of cold medicine and went to Target to buy some more. I chose to purchase enough meds to create my own mini meth lab if the medications actually contained the correct stuff. As I got them outside of the pharmacy, no meth could be produced.

As the checker girl was scanning my items, she looked at me and asked, "What's your date of birth?" I assumed this was needed because of the exorbitant amounts of drugs I had. I said 12/01/7_. She punched in the 12 and then the 01. Shoot...she messed up. Punched it in again then looked at me and said, "So is it 19 or 18 or what?"

Now I just did have my birthday and maybe I do look a bit older but are you kidding me? 120-something? Do I really look like I was born in the 1800's? Do you know how far back on my family tree you'd have to go to get someone born in the 1800's? My great-great-grandmother!

If I hadn't needed the meds so bad I might have said something witty. Instead I just muttered, "19" and left.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Attack of The Pantyhose

Friday was my was a truly amazing day. It started off with a nice breakfast of waffles and bacon and a couple of games of Battleship with my boyfriend. The two of us then went down to the art district of my city for lunch. After eating our fill of fried (fried shrimp, french fries, and hushpuppies) we walked around an art gallery. This led us to the locally famous ice cream shop where we split a tasty pralines and cream (which I loved and he didn't appreciate so I got to polish it off...this never happens!).

Taking the back door out of the shop, due to the massive amounts of prep school kids who filtered in quite suddenly, we found ourselves face-to-face with a carousel. The jazz guy (aka boyfriend) bought us tickets and we rode. I was on a wolf and jazz guy on a frog...there were your traditional carousel horses but come on, seeing your boyfriend ride a frog is quite amusing!

After walking around a second art district we were back home tying up the Battleship tournament (he couldn't stand that I won the first two games). Then it was time to ready ourselves for a nice dinner out at a very fancy restaurant (our usual Mexican was out for this special day).

I was trying to be secretive and somewhat alluring about my birthday outfit so while my boyfriend was showering, I was getting half dressed...the undergarment part. I had planned to wear a black dress and tall boots. Now I'm the kind of girl who has big calves. Even when I was younger and skinnier, I had big legs. So in order to wear tall boots I have to get the kind without a zipper. In order for them to stay upright and not slink down to my ankles, I have to wear thin socks. Since I had planned on the dress, I felt it necessary to wear pantyhose.

The thing about me wearing pantyhose is I don't do it. Ever. I hate them, always have. I wear dress pants every day just so I don't have to think about pantyhose. The last time I wore them was for my best friend's wedding two years ago! I'm pretty sure the one's in my sock drawer, in the unopened package, were the backup pair for that event.

But it was my birthday and we were going out fancy so I thought I could suck it up and wear them so my boots would look hot. Even though it had been two years since I had worn hose, I remembered how to put them on without snagging them on my nails or gouging a hole into them. Only when I was putting on the first leg, I kept getting stuck at the knee. The hose were tight and I was afraid I was going to have to cut myself out. So I pushed them down to the calf and tried on the other leg. That one fit fine. I pulled up the first leg again and still I had a pantyhose tourniquet cutting off the blood flow to my lower extremity. I imagined myself, wrapped in a towel and pantyhose laying on the floor, with my hold-your-gut-in underwear poking out screaming for my boyfriend to rescue me and wasn't too fond of him finding me in that particular garment!

When I got my wits about me I took off the killer leg and started over. This time everything worked just as it is supposed to. How I ever managed the constricting circle of hose I will never know.

With pantyhose on (not quite as they are supposed to fit...I had that lovely experience of the crotch of the hose not making it to my actual middle), boots up tall, and dress flowing, the two of us dined like Bossy and her husband (I imagined I was her when looking over the menu). We started with a glass of sparkling wine, which was very tasty. I ordered the seafood bisque, he the Caesar salad. Then came my delicious filet with garlic mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables (all of which I liked, a rare occurrence), and a cabernet-thyme sauce. To finish the restaurant portion of the evening, instead of truffle cake, which did look exquisite, I had an amaretto sour (one of my favorite girlie drinks).

As we were leaving the restaurant, jazz guy wanted to talk with the piano and bass players providing the live music (I hoped this was to make a contact in the area). Turns out, the bass player was the uncle of the great bass virtuoso Edgar Meyer (a favorite of mine and jazz guy). This made my evening...until jazz guy made me a chocolate pizza for dessert (I instructed but he did the actual preparing).

The day was superb. And after one final game of Battleship, I was declared the champion. It was the best birthday yet. And next year, I plan to go without hose!