Huh, a new post?

So you may be wondering – what are you, some fair-weather blogger? The answer is ‘yes.’ The truth is that someone whom I never told about my blog came up to me and told me my blog was boring so I decided I hated blogs again. However, I’m bored and quite distraught so I figured, eh, blog about it.

The thing is – 2007 is off to a rocky start. It was bad enough a few months ago when Rachel Bilson and Adam Brody broke up, bringing a crashing halt to my ultimate dream of making them our couple’s friends - but now, the OC has been canceled. Don’t get me wrong, the show deserves to be canceled. There hasn’t been a good episode since Chrismukkah season 2 when Ryan convinces Kirsten to open her home to his girlfriend, a.k.a his adopted mother’s newly discovered half-sister. I just wish the show had been able to get past the Marissa write-off and entered a new era a la 90210, the college years sans Shannon Doherty. I mean, what does it say that both the MTV mocumentary/reality tv show based of the OC and it’s spin off are only increasing in ratings and the OC couldn’t make it through one year of college…At least I still have Grey’s Anatomy.

Which brings me to another thought. Can Izzie and George really just be best friends without any sexual tension? Some friends and I had quite a ‘discussion’ about it today. My answer to the Harry-and-Sally age old question is – no, men and women can’t just be friends. One may not realize that they have slight sexual feelings toward another but trust me, it’s there. Even Matt Lauer has a crush on Meredith Viera – and anyone who saw the ‘year-in-review’ footage last week will agree with me. The sheer number of times that Matt kissed Meredith was embarrassing, particularly considering 1) she only started in September and 2) they are both married and their spouses are probably watching (well, her husband is blind but I’m sure he can hear the lips smacking). By the way, I didn’t realize we were kissing coworkers these days. I thought that would qualify under sexual harassment.

Anyway, I digress. Feel free to challenge my sexual tension among all male/female friends. No matter what, I win.

Sensual Chocolate Souffles
1 stick unsalted butter
1 box Scharfenberger semisweet chocolate
1.5 cups sugar
1 tablespoon cornstarch
4 eggs plus 4 egg yolks

Melt the butter and chocolate in a double boiler. Combine the sugar and cornstarch in a bowl. Add the melted butter/chocolate to the sugar mixture. Fold in the eggs. Refrigerate overnight. When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Scoop the cooled mixture into a 3 inch ramekin. Bake for 22-24 minutes. Serve hot with iced cream or whipped cream.

P.S. (Even if the guy is gay, the girl has a secret crush – she just knows it can never happen. Try again).

The sweet smell of unearned money

I write this entry as a testament that it pays to be honest.

I like money. I like all types of money – cash, checks, euros, credit cards – especially credit cards. Hand me money and I will find a way (or two) to spend it.

Last week, I received a check in the mail that was double what it should have been. When I brought it to the attention of the company that sent it, they kindly told me to keep the original check. Their exact words were ‘Keep it. You deserve it. Go buy yourself something nice.’

Well folks, that’s just what I did. A pair of boots, lace skirt, two top and one super-soft-sweater later, I pumped my hard unearned money back into the economy.

Now you might be thinking, ‘You dumby (or some un-blog-friendly profanity)! You could have just not said anything and kept the money!’ Yes. Perhaps.

But then I would have felt guilty every time I wore my boots.
And skirt….
And tops….
And super-soft-sweater. My oh-so-soft sweater...

Dish of the Day
Guiltless Carbs -Roasted Carrots

1 lb carrots
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Parsley

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. I always find it weird that carrots are considered a carbohydrate because to me, carbs should always be white. Here is a great side substitute to potatoes, pasta and rice. They are so simple but always receive rave reviews. Peel carrots and cut on an angle in 2 inch slices. Drizzle a small amount of olive oil – 1 teaspoon or so. Salt and pepper generously. Roast for 20-25 minutes until caramelized. Sprinkle with chopped parsley.

Help! There's a monster in my closet.

When I was little, I would wake up in the middle of the night thinking the shadow of a tree branch swaying in the wind or a dog barking in the far off distance was clearly some monster coming to get me. Even at the narcissistic age of seven, it made sense to me that, of all the children in the world, the monster would pick me to taunt. It didn't matter that monsters didn't really exist. They haunted me nonetheless.

Twenty years later, I'm older and supposedly wiser. The imaginary monsters have faded into childhood memories but now I'm left with the tangible ones. You know, those thoughts buried deep in the back of your mind. The ones that only seem to creep to the surface at two in the morning when you were busy sleeping. How am I going to get everything done tomorrow? Did I offend someone the other day with my cynical comment? What should I do with my life? What do I want to do with my life?

If only the tangible monsters could disappear with the help of a nitelite.

The perfect midnight snack:
S'mores with a twist
Graham crackers
Marshmellows
Nutella

Spice up your traditional s'more by using nutella instead of chocolate. Take a short cut by assembling the pieces together and putting them in the microwave for 20 seconds rather than roasting the marshmellows over the stove.

I’ll order the blog…with a side of hypocrisy

The truth is – I’m anti-blogs. Let me rephrase that. I’m not anti-reading blogs. I get a certain enjoyment out of reading my friends’ entries (particularly the ones in which I’m quoted as doing something funny or saying something witty). However, I am anti the whole concept of blogging. Since when did it become okay to use the internet like a personal diary? I recently googled someone I hadn’t seen in awhile. The first hit that came up was a blog entry written by some girl two years ago. In it, she details minute-by-minute the awful date my friend took her on. Now, not knowing this girl or anything, I’d have to take a guess in assuming that she wouldn’t say to my friend’s face what she wrote. So if you are going to use your blog for your daily rants, why put last names in the entry? People are vain – they google themselves. Do you really want to hurt someone’s feelings like that? Hence, why I hate blogs.

So what on earth am I doing blogging? Is this a case of peer pressure? I can hear my father in the back of my head: If everyone else jumped off the Brooklyn Bridge, would you? (Yes, I am afraid of heights and would want to get off the bridge as quickly as possible). Or is this one of those “it’s different” ploys? I can write a blog because mine is going to be different. (Really, I promise.) Either way you look at it, I’m clearly being hypocritical. But owning up to the hypocrisy must count for something…

Now, I’m still not entirely sure how this whole blogging thing works but I think I’m supposed to use this first entry to 1) try to be at least a little entertaining so that you want to read more and 2) tell you what my blog is about – after all, I am claiming the “it’s different” argument. Here’s the thing about me: I love food. I love to dish on gossip, life and just about anything. For some succulent recipes* and even juicier gossip**, visit my blog Side Dish.

Dish of the day:
Hypocritical Hot Potatoes
4-5 large red potatoes
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
Paprika

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Slice the potatoes ¼ of an inch thick. Place them on a cookie sheet lined with foil. In a small bowl, combine 3 tablespoons olive oil, 1.5 teaspoons salt, ¾ teaspoon pepper and ½ teaspoon paprika. Brush both sides of the potatoes with the oil mixture. Bake for 20-25 minutes until crisp, turning once.

Disclaimers:
*I like food with substance. I take no responsibility for any weight gained from feasting on one of my recipes.
**A proper girl never reveals her sources of gossip.