Put 'em in the oven, you'll thank me

Strawberry picking will be in season near that lake town we've been seen in, you should come next time, you and that brood.  Totally invited to fess up and get interested, there's a foreign exchange student coming in October, I've familial traditions I intend to implore.  Being American's only half my pride and glory, toasting waffles for sport is the other four.

I bet we have that in common too, among everything.  All my memories growing up of family that is yours.  A common thread of patriotism, a German-Jewish root...recipes upon recipes borrowed and stolen.  Only the best-of-the-best, from now on that is what I promise you.

Seriously

Rainbow quinoa, a head of broccoli, some chicken broth to boil away for 15 minutes until your anger gets the best of you, it always did.  A shining example of eggs, ham and shredded cheese becoming important allies in your Parmesan-cheddar equation, don't get all muffin-tin-y on me, not attractive.

So when you're done moaning and groaning about all the recipes swirling on the to-do list, aiming straight for ta-da but never truly reaching for it, just landing serendipitously where chili Mac would have you.  It's not every pound of ground beef's paradise to assert itself among boisterous green chilies and corn, despite the chili powder that hangs around, then leaves tomato sauce, garlic cloves, and coriander to keep reminding.

Over and over, how stellar black bean pizza on a whole grain crust will be, now that red pepper has reconciled with the cilantro, twice gone without.

Dire need

Two and a quarter cups warm water makes the world go round, when a tablespoon yeast walks right up to you-know-who, and asks nothing of 2 tablespoons sugar, ever!  Shedding some light on the matter (finally!) and ensuring French bread loaves were dang pleased with their half whole wheat status, in case anyone asks, or forgets to mention it, or tweet.

You know with instagram accounts laying around everywhere, sporting pinterest-type personalities, you just can't whip up enough pasta al Forno to please every sixteen year old's birthday.  It takes stamina to direct all your energies towards wholeness, I should know exactly this path, I brandish it, smiling.  Refusing to give credit where it's due, is ridiculous.

God meant for my mushroom gravy swiped from Mel 's kitchen-y Cafe to become my new favorite mashed potatoes coverup, chicken cutlets browned in a med-heat skillet in enough olive oil to make it all worth it, four established minutes per golden, yet straight-forward side.  The vanilla cupcakes admitted faux-heartedly that it would trade places with schoolyard cupcakes in a split second, any day of the week, but it was the easy buttercream frosting that kept us all sane.

It's genetics

If you knew me and skillets you'd decide then and there that a Chicken Parmesan came into being without much fanfare, so long as sun dried tomatoes didn't get offended from the moment I met all the broccoli I desired.  It kinda IS a big deal to brown up some skillet chicken, and at the same time get the method recommended, as a tried and true track towards a steady supply of Asian.

Oh you'll get with the program eventually, don't criticize.  Breading, then browning chicken is a delight I'll never cease to endeavor, but it's the mere marinating several flavors into a skillet worthy of browning chicken goodness, please, I'll apply.  Someday when every shredded carrot meets steamed broccoli where it's actually at, instead of supplying interpretations destined for fiction.

Then we'll agree that taking a longer than necessary break from stir fry was more than useful, it's the highlight of life's journey.  If steel cut oats actually doubled its recipe, then six cups of water with two cups of oats would make perfect sense.  As if a quarter cup each brown sugar and pure maple syrup knew it all along, a teaspoon of cinnamon generally does not endorse such unconventional behaviors, we know, we know.

But then a half teaspoon salt walks right in, sits down, and apologizes for nothing.

Spreads

Overcoming the hurdles of pesto and hummus, much like standing your ground when chickpeas and basil determine your fate, who doesn't crave olive oil and garlic in large doses?  It's an easier than pie feeling when discussing past meals feels wronger than usual, as if a refrigerator full of waiting meatballs wasn't celebration enough with whole wheat bread a victory not yet achieved prior.

Turns out French toast was the perfect investment for all my extra loaves, those incorporated into meatball subs with red sauce notwithstanding.  Not sure what all the blocks are about when a week's worth of meals studded with oatmeal crisp cookies and even baked potatoes topped with homemade chili comes so naturally.

Entering the pantry

It's established that 28 oz crushed tomatoes is the throw-together sauce basil, oregano, garlic powder, sugar and salt would make of it.  Doubling a recipe known to be delicious and freezable makes 50-60 meatballs common sense, when French bread rolls are invited to every grand opening, of cooking inspiration in my kitchen.

Doesn't happen every day, oftentimes I whip up refrigerated deep dark chocolate brownies with nary a whistle, and mistaking rotisserie shredded chicken as a bow tie pasta salad ingredient when it was really meant for albacore tuna in the first place, green olives and artichoke hearts completely aside.

No one's perfect in this family is the point that I was making, when Italian meatball subs barged into my life, stole my lack of ambition and replaced it with a motherly sense like no other.  Took a determination to grill chicken all the way from amateur to expert, before my time, light years ahead they tell me.

Because if you knew how many recipes I have waiting for some leisurely grilled chicken, which will be stockpiled for the coming winter that tries its hardest to be real when it's easiest to feign a comfortable distance, you'd wholeheartedly believe.

IKEA's meatballs with cream

I'm thinking about cooking, I'm making plans about cooking, and cooking enough to feed my family even while on summer vacation.  Cindy's oatmeal peanut butter chocolate bars were stupendous, my blueberry banana muffins an anchor when needed, easiest Spaghetti ever even walked up to my door, rang the doorbell, but then let itself in.  You know how I feel about browned ground beef and pork with Giada's sauce, it's very dear to me.

Turned out whole wheat protein enriched thin spaghetti really did need exactly 8 minutes, al dente. The kids consumed and devoured on many unrelated occasions this Egg Bake as I like to call it, including chopped up biscuit dough immersed in eggs and milk (I'd add a few more, unless bread coated-in-egg's enough for a bland lifetime).  Getting scandalous with sliced microwaved precooked sausage links begs the question you knew everyone had been asking.

What, like a cup and a half of shredded cheddar makes it obviously not about you then.  I'm already happier with my pantry, bottom shelf fully straightened, an opening for inner peace to fill it. Shelf two is in the works as I birth chicken and stars from my seams, and slice triangles of watermelon like there's a child to scarf them.  Oh the novelty.

Eight kids

Healthy Banana Blueberry Muffins have caught my attention, and so has an easier than ever chicken pot pie.  That is, if you're into store bought ingredients like pie crusts, a pair of frozen, a box of refrigerated, a rotisserie, frozen mixed veggies, cream of chicken soup, and of course celery salt and black pepper.  This makes my life so much easier knowing it's everyone's favorite, and the pounds each of ground pork and beef, plus Giada's tomato and basil, some protein enriched thin spaghetti noodles.

So those muffins, and waiting ripened bananas are acknowledged, sweet potato fries still on the back burner until I get all reacquainted with black beans, tons of corn, salsa and frozen chicken.  In a crockpot over chips or wrapped in tortillas.  Hell, you can fry up as many corn tacos this summer as you like.  I've got all day to myself to plan, explore, and take barbecuing and summer salads seriously.

I've an army I can't ignore.

Antioxidants

I could make some homemade bread is my answer to everything.  Not sure slathering a loaf of Italian in pizza dip with cheese would bequeath her queen majesty with enough greatness to swear by pepperoni to make it worth a shot and an entire green pepper, sneaking a few baby orange bells and sliced black olives in for the running.  I lean towards the vegetables in my quest to make beet soup possible.  What, I just pull beet hash salads out my ears?  No standards.

Pineapple hurdles

Might have to break my no Hawaiian Pizza Dip rule and indulge in a block of Neufchâtel destined for eternal greatness when a cup of mozzarella couldn't have worse timing, or planning.  Who confirms gossip better than a half teaspoon oregano and a quarter teaspoon garlic powder...a cup of pineapple and 3 oz of Canadian bacon according to you.  Well, layer that conundrum with any homemade marinara you've laying around there, store bought's not better.

Ten years shy of my fiftieth birthday, I should know by smarts that a 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes and 2 T tomato paste can make each teaspoon of oregano and two teaspoons basil you meet seem peculiar.  A teaspoon red pepper flakes does NOT replace the love I have in my heart for two cloves minced garlic sautéed for two minutes over medium.  Browning fragrant garlic turns out to be my specialty, but from bubbling to low for 5-10 minutes happens to add insult to injury, hosting salt and then pepper, like forever unimportant.

Oh, it's a gift, trust me.  So your brand new sauce recipe that will likely make panko breaded mozzarella bites show up unbidden, can be left alone to itself and bask in feeling superior.  Try asking the last cup of pineapple what it wants then, a shell shocked 3 oz of Canadian bacon holding up the fort, while a cup of mozzarella browns the top, at 350 for at least 20 minutes.  Dip with pretzel chips, bread or crackers, or astound your friends and get over it.

The final outcome

Whipping up banana blueberry muffins upon request was easier than, say, the chocolate chip blondies missing their walnuts, can you forgive 'em?  Look deep into your heart and soul and sans the two loaves of English muffin bread you must've whipped up in a state of delirium, and the Killer Crunch brownies that were declared the best brownie hands down eaten in a lifetime, ever.

Meaning that and sticking by it is the key to all that comes after.  Honestly, sweet potato fries diced and tossed with rinsed black beans and a smattering of salsa, rolled in a lightly cheesed tortilla, now an every day staple.  Becoming salad's best friend and thinking shredded carrots and shredded purple cabbage would be a lovely accompaniment leaves you craving the hard boiled eggs expected of everyone, a source of protein.

Sprinkling sunflower seeds on top, pulling out of your hat a recollected sausage and peppers with some mushrooms thrown in, a little saucy but delightful with penne, I've warned you.  Thinking you know everything and holding on to a grudge to spare your dignity, yeah, I've witnessed.  Of all the recipes going through my head, if only you were of upright character, no one underestimates the drama you'll unfold.

Yes there's an excuse or explanation for all things, an understanding that will set steel cut oats with thawed cherries, bananas and blueberries free.  It's the brown sugar, pure maple syrup, cinnamon and salt conundrum that gets what it expects at every false turn though, 1/8 cup, 1/8 cup, 1/2 tsp, 1/4 tsp to a 1:3 cup oats to boiling water ratio.

Serial gastronomy

Having great success in life is a predisposition, either you've attributed your baked egg and sausage sandwiches to good luck, or done everything you could to avoid it.  I'm not one of those persons who under pressure cracks an egg AND stuffs cheese into every crevice of these snack worthy muffins, but I'm willing to assume the best in others, and trust me I've tried.

When it comes down to it, my kitchen has an eternity to talk me out of baked chicken nuggets with sweet potato fries on the side, stuffed mushrooms optional.  I've cleaning to do, that's no lie, an entire three baskets of laundry to mangle, disagree with, and ultimately besmirch.  It's tablespoons galore with olive oil taking the lead at three, and exonerated sugar making a sound choice of just one, finally, a grown up!

Seeing what I've seen, a single teaspoon of every mistake known to man you can imagine, just thinking chili and garlic powder can vouch for your goodness while cumin and oregano denigrate your well-versed character.  This gets you irritated?  Well baste the damn sweet potatoes yourself then, 425 for about 15 minutes gets you over who else, but we warned you.

Heating your pans, plus the caramelizing sugar and carefully determined spices, a cup or so of "red and orange vegetables" in, without a fuss?  You don't just get Panko crusted chicken nuggets that come out crispy, but then can be sliced for crispy corn tacos with salsa, cheese, sour cream, and even corn and black beans.  Doesn't add up, not even on Friday.

Take note

Blueberry crumb muffins are going to get my day going, much like cheesy chicken spaghetti fulfilled my week, it was the baked chicken solution that took it over the top, satisfying everyone. Only sprinkled lightly with a medley Pioneer Woman concocted for a chicken tortilla soup that never made it into existence, let alone anywhere near the running.  Heating up my stovetop for an hour and a half of stewing didn't make sense for me or my family, overriding aromas tend to cancel out Feng shui happiness.  Haven't you looked inward?

A teaspoon and a half of cumin, an ordinary teaspoon chili powder, a half teaspoon garlic powder mini remedy, purported to heal everything but gout, even wickedness inherited.  Take a 375 degree oven and prove me wrong then, the olive oil was the adherent, an hour later the plan. All this family pack had to offer in the end was the quarter cup of onion, green and orange bell peppers, the mushrooms I snuck in.  Otherwise intentionally neglected, left to struggle independent of any guidance, thrown to the wolves in another sense.

Shredded chicken in that manner nearly knocked me over, tumbling self-righteously into quesadillas, mixed with rinsed black beans, a quarter cup of salsa calling a do over.  Shredded cheddar hates to admit when it's wrong, so why wouldn't you, too?  Like cream of chicken soup, the crumb topping tends more towards enjoyment, less towards a splendid repertoire of fandangled new casseroles.  I fear none of them.

It happens

I know, I know what you're all thinking.  You don't just make homemade baked donuts from scratch, insert a pair of English muffin bread loaves into your diehard repertoire, insist the fudginess of these quick, easy brownies didn't astound you in their refrigerated condition, unless you're bored.

And reckless.  In search of the homeschooling solution my whole life, wherein self-directed learning takes the cake, and betting your life on all you know matters makes the difference you were looking for.  A meal plan into it and everyone's fed, and nourished, and happy.

It's an easy balance knowing everything I need is in my pantry, should beans and tomatoes suddenly wage certain war, if headstrong romaine forces broccoli, cauliflower, and shredded carrots into convincing a tricolor cheese tortellini to embrace Alfredo, scooping in the Parmesan.

My own new casserole

It sits well to have forgone the absentee cabbage, making acquaintance with oregano like never before raised the gold standard, that and pepper.  You see, browning 3 lbs of ground pork and ground beef with two small diced onions to congratulate them on their togetherness, in public anyway.  Behind closed doors you see what two cans of diced tomatoes are made of, two cups of water and a cup and a third of rice into the equation, and you've got the boiling to simmering down to a pattern.

Hope you remembered the 2 tsp oregano and gallon of pepper invited, just kidding it's only a teaspoon adopted from foster care.  About twenty minutes later, if you've kept your pot covered, your goulash has morphed from cabbage roll ingredients to a Shepherd pie bottom.  Sure you still mix the cupful of cheese in, gotta have your dairy.  Layer the bottom of your 9 x 12 with half that 28 oz can of tomato sauce, having stirred the 2 tsp sugar and a tsp of dried oregano in, a 350 degree oven for 35-40 minutes will cover the magic.

Of course you're a stubborn old Capricorn goat like myself, and you layer 2 cups mixed frozen vegetables, awash in tomato sauce, atop goulash for another layer.  Thank every lucky star in the sky that you pre-made 4 lbs of peeled, sliced 3/4 in, covered with cold water and then boiled somewhere between 10 minutes and fork tender.  Mash with 12 T butter and 2 cups half and half, or just use milk and stop at a cup, then salt and pepper with abandon.

It's a mess to be cleaned up, an agreed flotsam we can both spit on, you and I are freed.  To know layering Easy Mashed Potatoes upon mixed frozen vegetables, upon pork/beef/rice/tomato/onion goulash, with an extra half cup or so of shredded cheese propped on top, like icing.

Always waiting

It was a joke.  Sweet potatoes have no problem knocking at my door, sporting fries coated in panko, so what's up with cabbage pulling the whole disappearing act, I'm sure my cabbage rolls wouldn't understand if you asked them.  A pound and a half of browned pork and ground beef, a small chopped onion.  Adding 2 cups of diced tomatoes, a cup of water, 2/3 cup uncooked long grain rice, a tsp oregano, 1/2 tsp pepper.

If you bring that civilized concoction to boiling on your stovetop, over reduced heat you can simmer for 20 minutes, so long as your pot's kept covered.  Trimming a heavy vein from a cabbage leaf will have to wait until cabbage gets over its complex need for approval, immersing 4 at a time into boiling water ought to scald their socks off.  Two to three minutes later you've got that limpness required.

Not everyone can handle the insight involved when taking a half cup of shredded Swiss cheese, use your own compass, guide that Swiss cheese somewhere.  Note the 1/3 cup of meat mixture getting over itself as we speak, cheese included.  Fold in sides, roll up, a yogi catches my drift here.  A sauce for cabbage rolls is not complete until two 15 ounce cans of tomato sauce date 2 teaspoons of sugar for just a little bit, only to find a teaspoon of oregano just doesn't stop cheating on her.

Being all alone with your recipes is tragic enough, two times can't be a charm, why would three successful cabbage roll dinners in a row change your mind about all those who disappoint you. Never pour half the sauce on the bottom of a 2 quart baking dish then, arrange rolls and spoon remaining sauce over your conscience buried somewhere in there.  Three hundred fifty degrees for 35-40 minutes is a no brainer, skull's empty.

If you think another half cup of Swiss cheese sprinkled on top doesn't change your cabbage, easy mashed potatoes, corn, wait-I'm-out of cabbage endeavor, think again sister.

Fresh Market Slaw

If you're gonna go ahead and make cabbage your centerpiece, invest in red and green.  Slice each in half unless cooking for an army, then shred any which way you can, and add a bunch of sliced scallions.  Dress with 1/2 c apple cider vinegar, 1/4 c rice wine vinegar, 2 T honey and sesame oil, 2 t salt, 1 T mustard seeds, 2 T toasted sesame seeds, an hour at room temperature to meld.

15-1/2 cups of vegetables a week

You've no idea what I've been through, an enlightenment as to our daily requirements of vegetables, you get the picture?  Who was I to ignore the sage advice of my elders, pumping 5 cups a week of red and orange vegetables (sweet potatoes, butternut squash, and carrots being the star) into your bloodstream is barely fathomable, let alone the 5 EXTRA CUPS of starches expected, you know a mere five cups a week of peas, corn and potatoes.

Then 4 cups extra of "other vegetables" later, you've celery to pick through, green peppers, onions, cauliflower, cucumbers, cabbage and mushrooms to regard.  Go ahead and stake your odds on an additional 1-1/2 cups dark green vegetables, trending spinach and kale if I get my ornery way, that broccoli you owe your talent to, even romaine gets a challenge.  A cup and a half of bean opportunities and peas with various pastas or beside mashed potatoes is not really that big of a deal, so confront it.

And if you can guarantee a cup's worth of tomato sauce per week into yours and everyone else's diets, a simple surrender to a crockpot chili (turkey or beef), a knowing glance at cabbage rolls, a fiesta casserole.  Then the six ounces of protein you're expected to eat every day makes chickpea red pepper hummus kind of essential, also a tuna dish, chili bean pockets and homemade bean burritos always there, quenching hunger.

Only a fruitophobe would deny the cup and a half necessary to meet blueberries in oatmeal halfway, to take pineapple, cantaloupe and watermelon out on a limb, the random mandarin orange sideglancing grapefruit before ignoring her altogether.  We all have our favorites, don't let frozen fruit smoothies just get a cups worth over with and accept responsibility for the two cups of kale/spinach that goes into every act of second guessing.

Life's way too short and to let grains like quinoa, or even rice, crackers and bread miss out on acting their age, even when a free spirit and intuitive nature are all that is required of any of them, everlasting.  Saying it up front is not the same as putting it out there, three cups of dairy a day takes things personally, 8 ounces of yogurt, a couple ounces of cheese, that almond milk you rely on.  Become your own best friend, make the refrigerator bran muffins of your dreams, a veggie bow tie salad is at the top of your list, a fresh market slaw that feels amply like family.

Raspberry jam sugar cookies

Secrets to my success are never constant, just ask me.  That exercise plan wherein thirty minutes a day, five days a week seems excessive, becoming three days a week, into nada, pure nothing. Can't say stretching and yoga didn't take its place on the spur of the moment, so did a rooted and centeredness become my calling.

Cooking is currently frozen at its nexus also, though I push forth with open-endedness, intent on past successes being the seat of my pants I fly on.  Alas no, only my kitchen aid mixer has done all the damage what with pretzel bites, chocolate cupcakes, vanilla buttermilk also, and that buttercream with a stick of butter, three ounces of cream cheese.

So I can't say reflecting on an empty fridge hasn't somewhat restored me, complaining about extra watermelon seems meaningless, carrot sticks galore however, celery stalks out my ears, plus homemade ranch dressing.  Doesn't make me a bad person that hardly anything speaks volumes, not the pork and beef I have frozen in the freezer.

But there's spinach, and kiwi, and lemon wedges.  At four degrees, who goes to the grocery store? Not a feta cheese induced coma addict, nor the three pounds of tomatoes it takes to get there. Potatoes are needed at this very moment, to be baked and slathered in cheddar and bacon, which I don't have from Sam's Club either, missing frozen cherries and blueberries above all though.

Spring veggies have yet to allure, summer strawberries egging me on carelessly, and grilling that's impossible makes all the trouble.  Gearing forward.

About three baskets of laundry first, then

It looks like sugar cookies have made a comeback for Valentine's day, at least that's what Wednesday's after school intention with my seven year old holds.  Yes I've measured the 1-1/3 cups butter (really more than 2-1/2 sticks) and am contemplating the 1-1/2 cups sugar we'll add as soon as she gets her patootsie home, I'll admit it's due entirely to frozen butter.

Otherwise I'd have gone ahead and whipped the sugar to butter ratio for a fully absorbed five minutes, taking none of the time to complain that I have to wait until Valentine's day to enlist my new red KitchenAid mixer.  Blending two eggs in one at a time, and then 2-1/2 teaspoons vanilla thereafter makes you finally take a stand on everything wholesome, it's well overdue.

Put thought into the 3-1/2 cups flour, two teaspoons baking powder and 3/4 teaspoon salt that will go in there, because Frosted Soft Sugar Cookies are riding on this like an Olympic gold medal in need of a champion.  Adding it a cup at a time instills fear in those who profess a 400 degree oven is not a threat, when 7-1/2 to 8 minutes is basically how you operate, no browning necessary.

So while rolling to a quarter-inch thickness, slicing out hearts at your whimsy, or if desperate to avoid freehand use a complicated cutter.   Be sure the icing you also swiped from the back of your C&H sugar packaging comes in handy.  No need to lie that two sticks of butter whipped together with 1/4 tsp cream of tartar, a package of confectioner's, a tsp water, two tsp vanilla, you get the picture.

So when making Spaghetti Pie tonight like a real live rock star, envisioning the oversized casserole dish you'll stuff a doubled recipe into, for the love of your family.  Make a fantastic attempt at your world famous garlic bread because when you pre-buy a whole wheat loaf, mourning the loss of any potential sesame seeds while being firm about the addition of softened butter, garlic powder and yes, shredded Sam's Club Stella, staunchly broiled.  Leaning heavily towards the brand name and organic, it's tomatoes!  Vitamins and antioxidants galore.

Defunct meal plans and such

I better get some carrots shaved, enough to dice small for my two cups in Asian quinoa, leftovers aplenty to feed my family in homemade ranch dressing.  A cup of mayo with a cup of buttermilk and a pack of Hidden Valley means everything.  So thank you for buying the cauliflower and celery but forgetting the cherry tomatoes, as did everyone, we're family.

Birthed from the same lines of insanity, cooking maelstroms within reason.  I mean feeding your family for the glory of God is the one thing we have in common, everything else is relevant only if included, nah, old resentments.  So if you're avoiding shredding and dicing two cups of carrots for fear you'll chop your own bloody fingers off in the process, avoid that.

Make the green onions happen for you as well, a whole cup's worth, while your quinoa simmers away covered, you envision the oils you'll heat up in a larger than life sauté pan.  Be particular, it makes every difference.  And when your worth resides on cooking those green onions and carrots together with sesame oil (a teaspoon) and olive oil (a tablespoon), well double both because quinoa's delicious AND it's good for your leftovers which you'll eat all week, inspired.

This is my signature dish, all my work following.  Being prepared for life by learning to cook great food at a young age means mothers who have plenty of laundry shoved out of peripheral hindsite, which yields a view of twenty-twenty.  Being only forty has opened up my eyes in all the ways the next decade of my life could be even more prepared for life's table.

Staples with proteins, oats and brans (gotta try that flaxseed, bran flakes, oat bran muffin I was out of raisins for), maybe cinnamon really can function in close proximity to, ...anyway, I've nothing more to say on the matter.

Teriyaki everything

I've 2 cups of carrots to cube, a cup of green onions to dice before I filet a family pack of chicken breasts, love that thinness quality.  When you paint 'em red, white and blue like I will with teriyaki sauce thickened over low until bubbly, that entire 6 cloves of garlic that will enter your bloodstream is an eye opener.

Yes two into the doubled-by-nature teriyaki, four more interlocking cuff links with a quinoa based on Asian, you've seen it over at The Sisters cafe site, now don't make me go on over there.  Invited myself to a two cup helping of quinoa, rinsed of course, doesn't everyone?  Seasoned with four cups of low sodium chicken broth, it simmers over medium-high covered, which begs another spot-on question there is no answer to.

So demanding.  Enter the fifteen minutes you're forced to wait there, does it simmer without me even worrying, ever.  Yes it does until fully cooked and you give 'er the 'ol taste test, failing miserably.  Because your taste buds may have gotten you this far in life, but so has quinoa before, and sweet potatoes which begs you yet another question.

Did a 475 degree oven really make an hour's worth of chicken popular with everyone, because I mean dicing it up and adding a cup of peas, the obvious carrots and green onions, and 4 T of soy sauce didn't stop you.  So mistrust is an issue I doubt anyone would reject or abhor in their own, so salting to taste should be a metaphor for the twelve minutes of sautéing I never even began to mention.

I just didn't, no truth there.

Can't say no to fiber

I'm making Melt-in-Your-Mouth muffins, let's hope you like 'em.  Being easy to please is kind of what you've got going for you, when not in therapy for different reasons.  Taking the advice of a seasoned psychologist falls short of having actual conversations with a cup-and-a-half of oat bran, interwoven superciliously with backstabbing cups of all-purpose flour, ground flaxseed, and everybody's friend wheat bran.

Mixing in a tablespoon baking powder like a banshee is admired, though flaunting a half teaspoon of salt as if it matters is the driving force in every psychological issue you have, apart from wrongness in general.  Just getting out your food processor brings it up, well tell that to a cup of brown sugar who didn't mention it, actually gloated on the fact, it makes me weary.

Two quartered, seeded oranges will make you feel better, about your shortcomings AND your inability to resist drama.  Told you a cup of buttermilk, two eggs, a half cup canola and yes, a teaspoon baking soda were ignorant, no insight, ever!  Nor personal responsibility for the cup and a half of golden raisins that never made it in there.

Eighteen to twenty minutes invites your modern day oven to plead guilty at 375 degrees.

Puff pastry invasion

Cumin, brown sugar, oregano, paprika and beef broth takes things further, the mushrooms and rosemary can take the break they always needed, I won't be offended.  Sealing the deal with the mashed potatoes and Swiss however, fully-functioning game planning in the process of being executed, three cloves of garlic, a pound each of beef and pork, and an onion even.

It's warding off all the raspberry dark chocolate cheesy filling that's going to force powdered sugar as a topping into bakery heaven.  Been there, seen the damage, played the cards.

Needing sanding sugar became a crutch everyone relied on, I know how it is.

A dazzling trio

Super Bowl snacks galore are what this recipe blog needed, so glad cheesy pepperoni bread glazed in melted garlic butter is just around the corner, headed my way.  I can't deny I've been feeling ambivalent in the kitchen, watching winter knock everyone's guts out kinda takes a butternut squash-owning, pastry puff thawing, cream of chicken soup, frozen ground beef and pork dilemma and proves it further.

Squash can sit around being pretty all it needs, guzzling compliments for its steadfast wit, let alone bounty.  Makes me not nervous, only looking forth at the chicken I'll probably always pair it with, oh and spinach.  Takes fresh sage to a whole new level, at least in my vocabulary.  Wherein your worth is defined by whether or not it's possible to stuff pork and ground beef with an onion and garlic into an empanadas made for bad boys.

Being out of rosemary, while sure of Worcestershire, does that leave marjoram?  Will I sacrifice an entire dish on an inkling and a curse, well if adding sliced green olives to this tuna pasta salad is any witness, then I am.  Cubing sharp cheddar cheese sprung forth with abandon, it was the two cans of tuna that were out of my sphere of reckoning.  Never is.

Wherefore art my apron

The question was unasked up until that point, could some pulverized bran flakes ever be a stand-in for graham crackers?  Sure you'd take the same liberties and add four cups bran flakes to one half cup sugar and a stick of melted butter, press firmly into glass pan, I'd aim for 9 x 13.  Should only 1-1/2 blocks cream cheese be available, three eggs, 3/4 cup of sugar, 3/4 tsp vanilla is my firm answer. No, I've made up my mind.  Use the smaller pan, thicker crust never hurt no non-believer.

Three hundred twenty-five degrees for twenty minutes is a wonderful suggestion, don't get me wrong.  But my grandmother always blasted the goddanged hell out of her creations at 350 degrees, pretty standard.  This summer her marshmallowy fluff fruit salads will enter the picture, some tried and true side salads in general will take to the fore.

So all in all, and because cherry pie filling is politely insisting its way past the bread pudding that's so dangblasted easy.  Blame it on the bran flakes, out to spite muffins in general, and sans bananas.  The pan keeps calling my name and catching my attention, food processor blasting dishes out of my sink into the dishwasher, counters sprayed and cleared, every crumb swept off the floor.

Monday meal plan

Salisbury steaks in a crockpot sounds edgy enough to cause little regret, plus there's mashed potatoes. Only needing dry onion soup mix and dry au jus mix to make it possible, 2 cans of cream of mushroom thrown in to make light of it.  Wouldn't either.

I'm just not sure, maybe baked teriyaki chicken breasts with Asian-inspired white rice, because being out of quinoa after all that fanfare, embarrassing to say the least, otherwise it's revolutionary. Because now my peppers can be stuffed another way, not confusing, but motivating.

Get with it, a marinade of a tablespoon each of cornstarch and water, a half cup sugar and soy sauce a fourth cup cider vinegar, a minced clove of garlic, half tsp ginger, quarter tsp pepper.  Paint a family pack of chicken, both sides at 425 for an hour.  Don't apologize, we're in this together.

Fully fluent in backstabbing behavior, the links to possible dinner ideas ceaseless and endearing. Wouldn't anyone?

Pepper therapy

Imprisoned in snow is a dementia I live in, battling North Dakota winter a long held dream I've achieved.  Facing stuffed pepper recipes like a champion mosquito slapper on the other hand, as desperate for quinoa as that sounds, makes sure I don't spend the entire day obsessing about frittatas because oh, have I told you?  Eggs have invaded, and I'm talking more than two dozen.

'Course I hate frittatas and everything they stand for, too much egg, not enough cheese, and adding veggies that may or may not agree, and have you heard I'm out of peppers?  The Sisters Cafe has an Asian-inspired quinoa with carrots, peas, and green onion that I'd like to devour, 2 T soy sauce, two cloves minced garlic, and a teaspoon of sesame oil take it over the top, stuffed in peppers.

Not sure covering them in foil and baking at 350 for 18 minutes, then another five minutes under blazing hot fire means everything to me.  It will, I'd gander.  Making sure I'm out of peppers so I can't add them to the frittata is genius AND insane, because I'm stuffing them with Asian-inspired quinoa, I thought I told you.  So making a frittata with spinach perhaps, or broccoli if you insist, my peppers are gone.

I'd once thought stuffed peppers required a tomato sauce, but go ahead and invent a Mexican-inspired quinoa invasion, seen it done AND copied it exactly.  Both go hand in hand when frittatas don't come into being due to being the stubborn oldest child in a ham, green onion, broccoli and Swiss delight! Ask the grapevine.

Plus, there's chickpea croutons, no seriously

The whole entire reason we were put on this earth is to take lentils and boil them straight-up with brown rice, no hesitation.  Makes sense of the bigger picture when you assume washing them well and doing an overnight soak are your only options, it happens.  I'm sorry but boiling for 30-45 minutes needs to be said, I didn't invent the formula, I just invest in it, wholeheartedly.

I mean who wakes up in the morning with a head of broccoli and a sweet potato dicing on her agenda, steels forth with shredding 2 cups of cabbage and dressing it lightly with lemon or lime juice, a drizzle of olive oil later.  Not many people, that's who.  You can do the garlic-ginger pumpkin seed sauce if you're a total convert, roasted or raw, it's up to you really.

As for me, peppers stuffed with quinoa versus the tacos I'll make, and whatever else my kitchen will confess, a purge is in store.

Sounds hellish

Mostly Not Potato Salad is an execution I'd admire should whole food cooking suddenly sneak up on me, scream loudly, and bash my face right in.  Medleys like that are known for their misbehavior, trust me.  Slamming mere 2-in diced potatoes against the wall, because about ten minutes submerged in hideously hot water will get them tender like you like 'em.  Believe me!

Throwing 4 ounces of green beans into the water is second nature...at just the right time, unless steaming them in the microwave preoccupies your imagination leaving no choice in the matter, only surrender.  Leek and fresh dill are the next victims I'd assume, sautéed readily and willingly for 4-5 minutes until golden and crispy.  Six stalks of diced celery into the defiant matter an entire cucumber, 6 ounces of tofu, a tablespoon of chives, oh, and there's dressing!

I'd never make this, just giving an example.  It is not against my religion to whisk 2 T whole grain mustard with 2 T red wine vinegar and 2 t olive oil, never has been.  It's spanking the heck out of a half teaspoon sugar, getting the belt out for all I know, adding fine grain sea salt.  No problemo.

So when I think of all the world's problems and acknowledge the depth of depravity in all the psychopaths out there, me being one of them, make peace with Jesus while you can.  Thank Him regularly for all of your blessings, with every breath I'd hope.  And look forward, because serving chilled Mostly Not Potato Salad with everything BUT the kitchen sink, though mostly just celery, cucumber, tofu I'll have to admit but take back later, and there's potatoes, and green beans, yes leeks, dill, chives, salt...wait.

Where's the pepper.

Crockpot lore

Spirit leads the way and so when you're working out for 40 minutes every morning with good ol' Jillian, switching it up with TIU workouts with Karena and Katrina, cooking with black beans, butternut squash and spinach retreats to the back burner for awhile.  Sure, you've diced enough celery, carrots, onion, and garlic to make any crockpot split pea soup with ham jealous of its melding potential.  Been to the bread bowl sanctuary and retreated with your anti-sugar stance.

C'mon, being out of sugar is a flaw we can all recognize, but is having a seventh child really apropos for a forty year old?  Steamed broccoli and baked sweet potatoes aside, is being in great shape while cooking up a firestorm enough satisfaction for a thriving woman my age, or is rejecting a blessing from God the way I'll go.  Never been one to limit my quiver, nor refuse to bear witness to my little arrows' roles.

Ex-unschoolers like me go through this all the time, uncertainty in the long run but surefootedness halfway there, until the meantime.  Painting it with flashy colors for all to see, those uninvited, sisters and mothers with prying eyes, fully obsessed with my soul.

When you've bought the hash browns, have celery, carrots, onion and garlic on hand

Running out of sugar was the catastrophe of the century, still being out meant I'd been bamboozled by the weather, it happens.  Never being planned on is the first thing I'd recommend getting over, should running out of sugar continue to be a trend, because when it comes straight down to it, you and sugar are friends.  We both have always known that.

Ordinarily, I'd be so pleased that Christmas came off without a hitch, overly abundant if you ask me, which you didn't and don't plan to.  Because when birthdays rolled around and I turned 40, so dang blasted happy I am who I am today, just saying.  Cooking the birthday cake up was my plan and I executed it, unbelievable chocolate cake paired with can't believe 3 sticks of butter can be whipped into infinite bliss like that, I mean licking the cake platter clean is a compliment?! Whatever.

Being out of sugar is no big deal after that cake really.  Nothing matters except that gourmet salads can become the norm in everyone's kitchens, I mean how easy.  I still have half a butternut squash on my mind however, ready to be diced practically pea-sized, gotta disguise them with the black beans somehow.  I mean it's 3 cloves of garlic, an onion, ol' jalapeño, and a teaspoon each of cumin and chili powder.

Red enchilada sauce everywhere, eight corn tortillas, a cup of Monterey Jack with jalapeños, I'll make it tomorrow.  Probably gonna do some prep work tonight, a little dicing, some examining my conscience for ingredients that inspire.  Can't take a green and red pepper for granted, it'd be a shame to forget diced ham fully expecting split pea everything.  You've seen the movie, been to grocery stores, you smile.  See, we're alike in every which way, some are just hoarding the arrogant pile.

Tread bold

My heart's beating all on its own in the kitchen lately, well two times to say exactly when my cook's heart took hold and just knew where to lead me.  For instance, this morning knew I'd put butter cookie dough in the refrigerator, to take out at my leisure and douse with gifted raspberry jam.

It's easy when you get all crazy and cream three room temperature sticks of your butter with an entire cup of free-willed and fancy-free sugar, what you don't believe me?  Try taking a teaspoon of vanilla and throwin' it in like some master, a three-and-a-half cups of flour plus quarter teaspoon salt endeavor.

Yeah, totally dusted them with powdered sugar after their reckoning.  And tonight was going to be some butternut squash and black bean with red enchilada sauce and corn tortillas concoction I dare not mention.  For fear tonight's actual dinner is composed of homemade spaghetti sauce, entirely experimental, off the cuff even.

When you start messing around with teaspoons of oregano and basil with some extra garlic powder thrown in.  Just sure of your way when you're salting and peppering.  Even gay when you take red pepper out on a limb and denigrate it to your heart's content.  After all, speech is free in America, and the internet's uncertain territory.

At least it was back in the day, in '92 I graduated.  Yes back when chicken pillows first enticed your family into cohesiveness.  The side of peas present at near every meal, what vitamin c's not a reason? Whole wheat, oatmeal, and beans not your priority!

The Pioneer Woman can take her ranch and homeschool her children while I recover from past wrongs done unto me by those undeserved.  What' I'm not gonna say it?  This New Year won't be
blessed beyond all humans can imagine?  Time will tell that cooking's where it's at, beside raising
healthy happy children.  I've got six of my own, plus one blessed soul in His heaven.

But tonight's about the upcoming 365 days of a new year, take none of it for granted.