Snack Attack!

I've already had a Klondike bar and I'm already thinking about swiping another from the freezer. So that got me thinking:

What are my FAVE guilty snack pleasures????? 

Klondike bars happen to be a once-in-a-while treat. (I actually blame my "in laws" for the ones I have at the moment. The last time the bf and I went to visit them in Pa., I happened to find those glorious delights in their freezer. And naturally, I had to have one. So as you can see, it's not my fault that I'm about to scarf down another Klondike bar. I'm just a product of my environment. 0:-))

My all-time favorite thing to eat is anything pasta-related. But when it comes to snacks, Doritos top the list! Cool ranch, Salsa Verde, Nacho Cheese, Baja Picante...well, you get the idea.

Next: Any candy you can think of. Sweetarts, gummy bears, gummy worms, skittles, Nerds, Now and Later, Mentos (but only the strawberry ones), Tootsie Roll pops, Starbursts, cinnamon imperials....(God, I'm hungry.)

Cooking Class…Day 2: “Pound That Chicken Like It’s Your Husband and You’re Mad at Him!”

I may be one of the few black people who, if given the choice, would rarely, if ever, eat chicken.

Blasphemous, I know.

Fried chicken … baked chicken … BBQ chicken … rotisserie chicken … chicken cutlets … “Would you like chicken with your Caesar salad, ma’am???” ...“NO! I’ve had enough chicken to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.”

(Although, buffalo wings are a COMPLETELY different story! They’re just heavenly. ...As a matter of fact, I’m currently contemplating going on a mini North Jersey road trip to find the best buffalo wings in town. The top contenders thus far are Sharkey’s and The Shannon Rose Irish Pub, which are both located in Clifton.)

So needless to say I wasn’t all that thrilled when I learned we were making chicken marsala in our Week 2 cooking class. Great, more chicken, I thought. But turns out I learned a thing or two in the kitchen...

A Little Spice in My Life...

Have you ever looked at the spices in your cupboard? I mean really looked at them?

It amazes me how many condiments, oils, spices and sauces I have stuffed in our tiny cupboard -- and yet I have no idea what the hell they're for! 

I was all gung-ho about cooking something Friday, being that I had to travel to Atlanta for work over the weekend. But a simple recipe for “Chili Mac” and another for “Four Cheese Baked Penne” sent me into such a tizzy, I threw in the towel.

It’s my fault for thinking I could tackle two different dishes. But my bf hates (I mean HATES) cheese, except for mozzarella, so I knew he wasn’t going to eat any of my cheesy penne. Luckily I found the chili mac recipe and thought, ‘Let’s do it!’

Then I hit a snag.

Cooking Class: Day 1...And So It Begins!

I must admit. I was a TAD nervous for tonight's cooking class. I was pacing back and forth in the apartment while my bf sat on the couch. What should I wear? Will the other students be nice? What if they don't talk? Will I make a ton of friends? What will our first meal be? What if the instructor spends two whole hours talking about utensils?

But after 15 or so minutes, I gave up caring about what I looked like, settled on my gray grandma sweater (for comfort) and headed out the door. An hour later I was knee-deep in raw pork and onions, wishing I had worn a T-shirt in the sweltering heat of our home-ec classroom -- and loving every minute of it.

Cooking Class Is A Go!

It's official people! Yours truly finally got word that she's been registered for her adult cooking class! 

WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Imagine, in just two months I'll be a cooking whiz -- beating eggs with authority and making fresh pasta from scratch. I'm sure Julia Child is smiling right now.

Class starts Monday. Not sure what the class of 15 will be cooking. But I'm hoping the instructor shows us how to make lasagna. ...and chocolate ganache cupcakes. ...and penne alla vodka. ...and something with shrimp -- CAUSE I LOOOOOVE SHRIMP!!! =) 


(image courtesy of 5loaves-2fishes.blogspot.com)

Cook Your Own Damn Food...

I didn't always have an aversion to cooking. In fact, some of my fondest childhood memories are of my mother and I baking cheese straws and homemade bread in our cramped kitchen in Brooklyn. But as I got older, she and I stopped cooking and I spent most of my time with my head in a book, juggling junior high with all the homework I got from Prep. There hardly was time for cooking when I was 11 and 12, and eventually my interests turned to music, TV and thinking about boys when I entered high school.

By the time I got to college, cooking wasn't even on my radar. I wasn't about to whip out a pot or pan when I had McDonald's, Wendy's, Wes Wings, Cup-O'-Noodles, Niblets corn and Chef Boyardee at my disposal. The most "cooking" I ever did at Wesleyan entailed frying kielbasa in a pan. 

And the deeper entrenched in my 20s I became, the more often I would hear the same question: "How are you going to feed your husband?"

Excuse me?

"What are you going to do when you get married?"

My response: "Eat bologna sandwiches, I guess."

Turkey, Why Must You Look So Menacing?

Look at it. All pink and bumpy. Head decapitated and legs tied together like a common criminal.

Turkey, I'm sorry you were slaughtered because now I have to look at your naked form and -- let's be honest, it ain't pretty. But, alas, I'm visiting the "in laws" in Pennsylvania and I've vowed to get up-close and personal with this 16-pound bird.