Archive: December 2008

At this time last year, I resolved to try two new recipes each month and give up soda for the year, with the exception of a root beer float at the end of each month as a reward. I’m proud to report that I totally did it!

(Please hold while I bust out a one-person version of The Dance of Joy.)

On the soda front, I found that my borderline sugar addiction abated once I no longer had a soda supply at my fingertips.  Despite my blasted weak enamel, I developed fewer and less serious cavities, and my sweet tooth definitely lessened.

The hardest part of this resolution — really, get your hankies out — was that I was often at a loss at events where only soda was served; I learned to bring along a bottle of water just in case I was faced with a barricade of Diet Coke.  In the same vein, I have had to become a little more adventurous in terms of my go-to drinks; rum and Coke was off limits, and I became acquainted with the vodka tonic, my new wedding pal.

I’m glad I put myself up to the task of semi-soda abstinence, because it showed me that I just needed to keep it out of the house to stay away from it.  In the future, I’ll restrict my soda intake to weekends, but there is vanilla ice cream waiting in the freezer for my post-midnight root beer float.  I deserve it, I think.

In the past year, I tried 38 new recipes, far exceeding my 24-recipe goal, with the following success rate:

• Failures: 2
• So-so: 9
• Winners: 27

Not bad, right?  To be fair, Whip It Up certainly helped my output, but beyond sheer quantity, I’m pleased that I’ve become much more proactive in seeking out new recipes to try.  I’m not nearly as nervous about cooking (as opposed to baking) as I was a year ago, and I have a healthy slate of dinners that I can produce consistently and with minimal drama.  If nothing else, I can finally chop an onion, so I’m proud of my overall improvement.  I don’t plan on having a specific recipe goal in the future, but I want to stay in the habit of expanding my cooking repertoire.

For any recipe foragers out there, the solid additions to our dinner rotation were:

• Penne with chicken and broccoli
• Skillet chili mac
• Penne with sausage and spinach
• Chicken divan
• Sweet and sour chicken
• Barbecue pulled pork sandwiches

These knock-it-out-of-the-park, I-can’t believe-I-made-that, we-must-have-that-again successes also received their own clear plastic sleeves in the recipe binder, but they are reserved for special occasions or weekends:

• Portobello lasagna
• Potstickers
• Grilled pizza
• Soft pretzels

Not only did I keep my resolutions this year (yay!), but I’m excited to kick off January with a new set of self-imposed challenges, which I will share after our exciting night of eating ribs, watching Sports Night on DVD, and catching the end of the Peach Bowl.  Oh, we are wild and crazy!  I’d be shocked if we lasted long enough to watch the ball drop, but I’m sure that 2009 will commence nonetheless.

Happy New Year!

For the first time ever, I disliked our Christmas Eve service.

I used store-bought whipped cream and ginger snaps to layer with my pumpkin mousse.  Ina Garten would not approve.

After a morning of baking from scratch, I had to run out and rent movies for the family.  Before I left, JG asked me guiltily if I wouldn’t mind picking up a double quarter-pounder value meal for lunch.  I rolled my eyes and wrote down his order, but when I got to the McDonald’s, I couldn’t resist.  I ordered myself a double cheeseburger value meal with extra shame.

JG gave me a 1.9-pound bag of Swedish fish as part of my stocking, and its chances of seeing 2009 are almost zero.

I have been on a sugar binge for the past five days, and I am simultaneously nervous and relieved about my appointment to get my teeth cleaned next week.

I’ve been trying not to wear red or green so as not to appear too full of holiday spirit, but my wardrobe is not allowing it; I wore red yesterday, and I’m wearing green today.  Apparently, I can’t stop any time I want.

JG asked if he could eat the last mint swirl brownie, and I said it was okay, but only after it was gone did I realize that I didn’t ever get a brownie for myself!  I would not have been nearly as flippant over the brownies if I had known.

This afternoon, JG is playing video games with a group of guys as part of their declared “man day,” but I am secretly looking forward to changing into pajamas when I get home and watching DVRed episodes of Barefoot Contessa.

I am wearing illegal jeans at work today, but I am justifying it with pointy flats and a blazer.  It’s my “Friday,” right?

The bottom line is that we survived the Family Christmas Invasion — yes! — and that is me being overly dramatic because JG and I managed to relax a bit in between having a lovely Christmas morning of our own, making gobs of food, and running the dishwasher 24/7, or so it seemed, but let me just say that my micromanagement style of making lists all over the place was our saving grace because I don’t even know how I would have known what to do next if the white board of chores (turn on heat in guest rooms, iron tablecloth, set out Christmas presents) and checklist of food prep (bake cookies, chill mousse, grate cheese) were not staring at us from the fridge between Christmas Eve and Saturday (but now that I think about it, I guess my list mania may have turned me in somewhat of an automaton throughout that period — whatever, I was an efficient automaton), especially with the big old wrench in the plans that took the shape of my parents and grandmother arriving a couple of hours earlier in need of lunch when — oops — I had specifically asked them if they would need lunch when they arrived, and they said no, but hey, we threw together grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for them, and no one was the wiser except that my stress level was ratcheted up to three times the expected value for that time of the day, but that was really the only snafu from Christmas Day, thank goodness, since my sister and her boyfriend arrived with armfuls of yummy appetizers (oh, my word, the crab cakes!), and JG took charge of getting Christmas dinner pulled together on the condition that I kept everyone else out of the kitchen, and I did not mind at all being the bouncer, as long as I could keep a hard cider in my hand and my face stuffed with Camembert on slices of baguette, and so the dinner came to the table all at the same time with everything tasty, if not amazing, which was a nice precursor to present-opening, wherein I gave my grandma basket of Kennett Square goodies (mushroom soup mix, marinated mushrooms, fair trade soap, a mug from Longwood Gardens), and received, among other things, an apron from my sister preaching, “Eat Your Veggies!” which everyone agreed was so me, but as is the case with my family, presents only hold the attention for so long because, duh, dessert beckons, and I was relieved that my sloppy servings of pumpkin mousse went over well, and the men in the group even went in for seconds to finish off what I thought was a Very Large Dessert (that’s what men in the family are for, right?), and I guess that fired everyone up for a lively round of Mario Kart, during which I brought up the rear every single time, even when my mom fell off the course every twenty seconds, but I could not even beat her, and ultimately, we all went to bed nicely tired and replete with good eats of all kinds, not that that stopped us for the next day of breakfast casserole, lunch at a local Italian place (where I was mortified that there was no hostess to speak of, and we stood there for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only two minutes), and a gigantic slow cooker of chili for dinner, interspersed with naps and Guitar Hero, until my parents and grandma left that evening and JG opened a bottle of Belgian beer and other such entertaining drinks so that my sister, her boyfriend, JG, and I could properly glaze over during whatever football game was on, and even though he and I spent almost all of Saturday alternating between sleeping and warming up leftovers, we pulled ourselves together in time to have drinks and nachos with Janet and Andrew at the Half Moon — the meeting of blog husbands is very interesting! — but the next day, JG and I hit the mall to buy him a black pea coat (yes!), and I used a gift card to buy two pairs of shoes on super sale at Ann Taylor Loft (both originally $50, but marked down to $10), and I was glad to mark my return to the workweek with shiny new shoes, so all in all, with the exceptions of my panic during appetizer prep, the soupy gratin, and the irreparable scratches on our rented copies of Elf and Iron Man, everything basically went according to plan, everyone seemed to have a good time, and we had enough food, but despite that, I am not in any hurry to play host again, and it’s sweet comfort knowing that tomorrow is my Friday — hello, five-day weekend!

JG and I have very strong opinions about Christmas, but they are not the same opinions.

He believes that:

• Christmas music can only be played between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Eve.  If you receive a Christmas album for Christmas, then you’d better start playing it, and fast.
• The only true Christmas trees are the ones you cut down from a tree farm, wielding a bow saw.
• The proper Christmas Day breakfast is homemade monkey bread.
• Opening Christmas presents takes place slowly, with one person opening one present at a time.  You should encourage your family members to open their presents before you, not out of generosity so much as toward the end objective that is to be the last person opening a present.  Because everything is a competition, you know.

I believe that:

• A Charlie Brown Christmas is the best Christmas special, and the others are not even worth watching.  It is totally acceptable — nay, expected! — that I will recite every single line as I watch it.
• The thought behind the gift is what counts, but a nice wrapping job doesn’t hurt.  Curly ribbon can make almost anything look festive.
• The objective of trimming the tree is to jam the maximum number of lights onto it and arrange the ornaments to be as equally distributed as possible.
• Opening presents all at once is a more fun and efficient way to see how everyone reacts to their gifts.  Plus, if you don’t like something you received, you’re not on the spot to fake a positive reaction.

So, at our house, our philosophies mean that:

• We mute commercials and sneer at restaurants that have the audacity to play premature Christmas music.
• I hold up the trunk while JG lies on the cold ground to saw at the tree.
• I make monkey bread on Christmas morning according to my mother-in-law’s recipe.
• JG endures watching A Charlie Brown Christmas with me, and then laughs when I toss my head back to sing with the kids at the end.
• Except for the ones I’m receiving, I wrap all of the presents so that I can curl as much ribbon as I want.
• I commandeer the tree decorations, except for the ornaments and lights that go at the very top.
• We open presents one at a time for the two of us, but all at once with my family.

I’m pretty sure we are a great example of that whole “Peace on earth, good will toward men” thing.

Heh.

Merry Christmas!