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.