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Pantry Cleanup

You ever wake up on a Sunday morning, open your pantry to gather breakfast fixings, just to discover that "YOU CAN"T LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE!"  That's what happen to me today.  It's been months and months since my last pantry purge.  It's seems odd to me that every day between these fits of expulsion(and the "between" is literally 6 months to a year), the look of the pantry doesn't bother me in the slightest.  In fact, I find great comfort in knowing where everything is, even if it's a bit untidy.  The odd part is on Sunday mornings like today when you look inside and the disgust of what your pantry has become overwhelms you and suddenly, the whole world must, and I do mean must, take a back seat to the cleaning and organizing rage that has overcome you.  "I've had it with this pantry!"  I scream at it as if it's somehow the pantry's fault that it has become the seed of my hatred.  No worries... As if preparing for battle, I changed into workout clothing, put my MP3 player on loud, popped in my headphones...and went to war.     

Here's what awaited me:

Gross, huh?  You wouldn't know it, but there is a slight amount of organization going on here.  The general breakfast stuff is on top..I.E: Cereals, Oatmeal..

There's Pasta "stuff" on the top right...kinda

Most baking "stuff" is on the bottom shelf..

Oh, and yes, that is indeed a can of SPAM on the top.

Don't your dare judge.  Until you've had the pleasure of spam, rice and eggs in the morning...you haven't quite lived.

After an hour of purging (and might I add a lot of great songs and rocking ass moves no one should ever witness)...Here's what the pantry looked like.

Aahhh..Isn't that better?!  Look closely and follow along:

On the top shelf:

Breakfast foods (Cereal, pancake/waffle mixes, oatmeal, etc)

Snacky stuff (Cookies, chips, crackers, popcorn, etc)

All pasta fixings (All dried noodle and rice, boxed stuff, etc)

On the middle shelf:

All Vinegars, Worcestershire's, etc And also unopened condiments

Peanut butter, nutella, honey, and syrups

All canned goods (we don't eat a lot of canned goods, so there's quite a bit of space on this shelf)

All large spices (most of our spices are in a spice cabinet, but these are the larger ones)

And misc. baking goodies (Yeast, baking soda, baking powder, chocolate, sprinkles, oh..and cocoa)

On the bottom shelf:

All cooking oils

All Flour

All Sugar

All Salt

And the large lunch juices for my little one (Seems outta place...but it's where it fit :)

I cleaned so much and threw away so many outdated things.  In fact, the mister was afraid to stand still too long for fear that he, too, would end up in the dumpster. 

Now to the market to stock up! I feel like we're outta stuff :)


Laura

Americanized Italian

picture from 123RF.com #11233363

I love Italian food.  Adore it.  Crave it.  Pine for it.  When I say Italian food, of course I'm speaking of the Americanized version of it.  When I say Americanized...of course I'm speaking of cheese.  That's right...almost every "Italian" dish I prepare is most often covered in cheese.  Smothered in it.  Stifled with it.  Go ahead and look back at my Stuffed Manicotti.

picture from 123RF.com #10127692

I know that most authentic Italian dishes, if they do in fact have cheese on them, are merely dusted with a nice pecorino, asiago, or (my favorite) parmigiano-reggiano.  Not my "Italian".  Oh no, sir.  In fact, I dare to say that when I'm craving a great plate of spaghetti or risotto, I'm actually just craving cheese.  The pasta may very well be an afterthought to me.

I make pasta so often that I thought it appropriate to teach my daughter at a young age how to "properly" twirl the spaghetti, fettuccine, or linguine with a fork and a spoon.  Most people are amazed that I child of her age rarely has noodle slapped sauce marks across her face after devouring a large bowl of noodles.  I am so so proud.  As it turns out, however, this is not at all the authentic Italian way to properly eat pasta.  Dang it!  I thought I was so sophisticated!  You're actually never supposed to use a spoon, but rather the side of your bowl or the lip of your plate to gently twirl your starchy strands around your fork.  

So I've decided that when in Italy (Hah!  Can't wait to see that day!) I will eat as they do.  But when it my kitchen, I will smother away in cheese and watch adoringly as my daughter shows our guests our "proper" way to eat spaghetti.

Laura 

The New Holiday Coke Can

Some of you may have recently seen these new cans in your travels over the past couple of weeks.  It's the Holiday can from Coca Cola.  I have seen it displayed in center aisles the past few trips to the store and actually quite like them.  Even though I'm a "1950swannabe", I am a bit tired of the overdone classic Santa.  It's time to retire that old guy and spice up the season again with something new and fresh.  So, upon seeing the new cans, I got a bit more giddy than the average person.  (I am always a bit too giddy the first few weeks after Thanksgiving in the spirit of Christmas). 

Now let me say that I am not anymore a Coca Cola drinker.  I used to be until a few years ago when my friend asked me to accompany her to the Dominican Republic for a vacation.  Upon this request, I immediately looked in the mirror and saw a body that was no where near fit for such an adventure.  I immediately began working out and cut most fats from my daily life.  However, even the idea of the obtaining the beach body I had in mind could not keep me from my occasional rum and cokes.  So, like any cocktail girl, I figured I could cut some of the calorie intake by switching from Coke to Diet Coke.  This took me a few weeks to get used to due to the fact that I think I was actually breast fed on Coca Cola Classic (I am originally from Atlanta.)  But after a few weeks, my taste buds began to cooperate and I finally made my permanent switch from regular coke to diet coke.  Now I can't even stand the stand of the regular stuff.

The only problem I have with Diet Coke now is the fact that it seems to be left out of the Christmas marketing spirit.  I don't see "Holiday Correct" diet coke cans or bottles...no, no...this Christmas advertising joy seems to be reserved for the full calorie can fans.  No matter my choice in drinking habits, I still like seeing the Christmas spirit printed on the regular cans.  Which brings me to the point of this rambling thought.  I just read an article in the news stating that because of the "confusing" look of the new holiday can, Coca Cola is now yanking it from stores only two weeks into it's debut.  Turns out, many people were "confused" by it's appearance and bought the cans thinking it was the diet version.  I have troubles with these people.  I myself am a diet coke drinker and was not tricked by this new can's appearance for more than two seconds!  It's plain to see it's not diet coke!!!  The only similarity is the can color.  If you are in fact a diet coke drinker, you'll notice that no matter what, your can/bottle/whatever will always say Diet COKE.  These holiday cans, along with every other holiday version, say Coca Cola Classic...in cursive!!!  That never changes.

What really upsets me is "uproar" over this.  Ok ok..so some people didn't look very closely and bought this product thinking it was diet.  (Still having trouble understanding that) but ok...so you take one sip, realize your fatal mistake and throw it out or return it for what you originally intended to purchase.  Done, right?  Nope...let's get our panties waded up over it and start e-mailing congress men for crying out loud.  Now, just to be clear, I could somewhat understand if a diabetic happens to purchase this by mistake and there might be a medical risk involved.  However, I have no medical need to drink diet coke other than my "I feel skinnier when I drink something labeled diet" syndrome and I am somehow able to tell the difference even with that insignificant thought running through my brain!

In short (I know, way too late) I really liked these cans and now, due to this mass confusion, I probably only have that stupid overdone vintage Santa to look forward to now.  Sigh.

Book Reports

       Bear, my only child, is in the 3rd grade.  The curriculum and changes to children's behavior leap from the 2nd to the 3rd grade seems to be the largest between grades so far.  Math, reading, and girl cliques have taken over our lives the last few months.  The students even have to complete monthly book reports this year.  This is no big deal in our house due to the fact that Bear loves, loves, loves to read.  I adore this characteristic in her.  Maybe because it reminds me of me.  But also, I know that being an avid reader helps you absorb information more quickly therefore, in my opinion, makes learning any subject easier.

     At the beginning of every month, Bear's teacher sends home the criteria for completing the book report for that month with a suggested list of book's to choose from.  Each list of suggested books has a theme.  For example, in October, the student's had to pick from a list of 'mystery' books.  This month had a history theme to it.  Armed with this 'history' themed list of books, Bear and I headed off to the city library.  I walked to the search computer and began typing in the book titles Bear thought might be interesting.  Checked out..checked out...checked out .  This search computer's tone was beginning to annoy me.  None of the books Bear had originally chosen were in...turns out every other student at the school had the same opinions about these titles and their mommies had gotten to the library days before me.  UGH...So I decided to just start at the top of the list of suggested books and write down the ones that were available.  Checked out, checked out, checked out, checked out...etc.  This is a list of at least 25 books and every one had been checked out!!!  Who were all these supermoms?  What the hell?  Is this the highlight of their month?  Let me guess, they just can't wait to get their grubby little hands on this list and run off to the library the first day the list lands on their doorstep!  Wait!  What's this...Oh My God!  I found one!  One precious little book that hasn't been checked out.  Got IT!  "Beethoven Lives Upstairs".  I wrote down the location and "not too suspiciously" walked quickly towards the correct aisle.  For all I know, these supermom's are just watching, waiting to grab the last available book on the list. Once found, I very calmly grabbed my daughter and made a quick sprint for the check out computer with the last book on the "list" .  Haha!  There must be at least one mother out there slower than me!  Ha ha! Ha ha ha ha!
  
      
     

Outta town

I have the coolest friend who lives in Boise. She's fun and creative and somewhat crazy. Don't worry...she already knows I feel this way about her. I'm generally a quiet, low key, in bed by 9 pm type of girl. But when we come to Boise for a visit, I become the other girl that has too many cocktails, stays up way too late, and tries cartwheels in the front yard at 2 am. The point is, when in Boise with my dear friend, I am somehow allowed to be a little girl again. It's exhilarating to say the least but at the same time exhausting. It explains why little ones pass out at the end of a busy, fun filled day. It's so much fun and I experience so many things while visiting, yet I can't wait to get back home to my quiet existence. My point in all of this is to remind you to get away once in a while and let your hair down. Be a kid whenever you can and rejuvenate yourself. It allows me to experience so much, including being grateful for my quiet little life.

What is Success?

Since I was a little girl, I wanted to be someone successful.  I wanted to be an independent woman that had an amazing career, making tons of money.  Then, I had Bear..my little girl.  My own metamorphisis didn't start right away.  Even after having her, I still had that desire to be very successful.  Slowly but surely, I started to become less interested in work, and more and more interested in being with my child.  I would be late to work due to letting her sleep an extra half hour.  I would call in sick, due to wanting to go and feed ducks with her.  Once she started school, I began finding reasons to leave my job early so I could pick her up at her classroom.  Slowly, but surely and unknowingly, I began to quit my job.  What? Job?  I had always thought of it as my career!  I was going to be somebody!  Be successful!  Thing is, over the years, my definition of success began to change.  It began to mature as I did.  It took me a long time to understand that a career and money did not equal success.  I started understanding that my girl couldn't care less about my job title or where the commas were on bank account statement.  She wanted me.  All of me.  And it was my dream career to give her just that.

I'm sickened

I'm sorry.... I meant for this blog to be a fun, release from everyday life so us ladies could sink our teeth into an atmosphere of safe, protected life.  I, like many others have read or seen the news on the California salon murders.  I was just reading my local paper and read the devastating news.  The funny thing is, I was in the middle of a fight with my man.  Turns out, he was slightly unhappy that dinner wasn't ready in a timely matter this evening.  Now now.... He and I have been in a long standing relationship where both adults have worked and traded the nightly dinner duties because until recently, we both worked full time.  Tonight happened to be my night and I became preoccupied with neighborly chatter and fun before I realized it was past 8 and dinner hadn't been started.  He was not happy.  Now, I believe in taking care of your man, however, I am no on demand chef and since these late nights don't happen often, I was quite vocally offended by his displeasure.  We haven't spoken since before dinner was served.  I find myself online, very physically showing my annoyance....and what do I read?  A man walked into his ex-wife's place of business and not only kills her, but other innocent people.  I can't at any point wrap my head around this.  All I can think of is the poor little soul that has to grow up without his mother and all because of his father's hand.  I just don't understand and it brings and surprising stream of tears to my face.  Life is just too short to fight over dinner.