Woot! It works!

Here we are in 2010! New year, new adventures, and a city covered in snow. I kicked some serious artichoke dip ass for New Year's Eve and will attempt to make some whole wheat rolls later on, but my big excitement for the weekend was meant to include my first trip snow shoeing!

That is - until the accident.

New Year's Day, 2010. Fresh, white, fluffy powder surrounds Munjoy Hill. Not a care in the world... and Jay and I decide today's adventure will include some serious sledding off the Eastern Promenade. I'm armed with my foam Millenium Falcon (which I prefer for speed and aerodynamics) and Jay is armed with his Big Blue Ho (yes, it says Ho on it and Jay loves it for the extra leg room and steering ability).

We bundle ourselves up - Jay even wears goggles - and make our way to the mountain.
It is BEAUTIFUL! Enough folks have sledded before us to make a slick, steep path where you can either veer righ (and hit abandonded XMas trees), veer left (and wind up in a marsh), or go straight on (and risk paralysis when you hit the oncoming picnic bench). Yes, it truly was going to be an adventure.

Off I go, wind in my face, laughter/screaming pouring forth from my oral cavity, and I managed to steer the Falcon right between the marsh and picnic bench for a safe landing.
Things didn't go so well for Jay.

He was totally stoked to abandon the Ho for the Falcon to try the hill with some serious speed. Off he went... with disasterous results. Having never taken a ride in the Millenium Falcon before, Jay was headed straight for the bench. A string of sh*tf*cksh*tf*ckf*cksh*t spewed forth from his mouth and every parent did their best to cover their little ones' ears.
Jay threw down his arms to slow down.... and came to a halt just before impact. Some would say he was lucky...

I would call him a crotchety, old man. You see, by tossing down his arms for brakes, he created an unneccessary pull on the muscle between his shoulder and neck. And now he can't turn his head without crying like a sissy, nanna girl. It's true - my man, my hero, my night in shining armor injured himself while sledding.

Big ol' baby.

On the upside, I've managed to clean, finish a book, and catch up on this blog. And, HUZZAH!, I was able to upload some photos! Enjoy!!!



Okay, up top you will see what frying Sufganyot looks like. My apartment smelled like HEAVEN for a week afterwards (and by heaven, I mean the stench of oil was in the air, and clogging my pours - I broke out like an adolescent!) and they were quite delish. This batch was my first attempt... they were supposed to puff up like golf balls, but because I tossed so many into the oil at once, they stayed all frisbee like.


Here's what they look like after 5 minutes in WICKED hot peanut oil. Why peanut oil? It can maintain the highest temperature before smoking. It's also really, really, really, really bad for you. But I figured, I'm makin' flippin donuts - is health my main concern? Also, I'm not entirely sure of:
A. Whether or not the smoke detector works
B. If I did set something on fire, I can't find the fire extinguisher.

Jay is the bestest helper on the planet. As each piping hot donut frisbee was freed from its jacuzzi of boiling oil, Jay helped to cool them down by covering them in powdered sugar. Mmmmm....

And finally - after several attempts of making puffy Sufganyot and violating them with a spoonful o'jelly... IT WORKED (sort of)! Fried dough crammed with jelly and sprinkled in sugar is well worth the apartment stink, those "5 extra pounds", and feeling like a baked goods rapist.

More to come in 2010! Happy New Year!!!

Hannafords O'Bliss

I can't help it... the grocery store makes me giddy.
You can keep your yoga - nothing makes me more zen-like than a Sunday afternoon at Hannafords Super Market.
And I'm lucky - the Portland Hannafords is the LARGEST IN MAINE! It's just aisles and aisles of happy!

I am not a freak. One of my favorite parts of any given Sunday includes making up my grocery list, color coordinating my re-usable grocery tote to go with my flip-flops, and doing battle with the squeaky cart up and down the endless aisles of food bliss.

My lovely brother has assigned me the Paleo Diet to help me get all Wedding Dress Hotness. Basically, if the cavemen didn't eat it, I shouldn't either. I can have one meal to myself each week, otherwise it's meat, eggs, meat, fish, meat, root veggies, meat, berries, meat, water all week long. We're talking A LOT of meat. I hate violent movies and I've now watched 3 Tarantino flicks all in one week - who knows what sort of hormones are raging freely through my veins. And I had a dream where lots of fat bald men were missing the top part of their skulls. Go figure.

As much as I miss my bagels, pasta, and cream of wheat (aka Nectar of a Merciful and Loving G-d) - I get all excited to search out recipes and head to Hannafords for the weekly purchase.

On tap for this week:
Italian Chicken
Rosemary Salmon (if the salmon is cheap... one would think with the ocean 10 yards from my kitchen I could get some reasonably priced seafood)
For Dessert... I'm going to try Banana Pear Ambrosia

For Banana Pear Ambrosia I have to blend a pear, a banana, some lemon juice, some honey (no refined sugar on this diet o'mine), and an avocado for texture. I'm highly intrigued and a bit weirded out.

Any bets on what it will look like? While you ponder this thought, I'm off to Hannafords, my own little Graceland.