I’ve been baking and cooking my fanny off lately. Last night I made my mom’s recipe for homemade chocolate mousse. No Cool Whip here, just heavy whipping cream, cocoa powder, vanilla, gelatin, and a whole lot of elbow grease. My mom said she made it for my Dad in the early days, pre-kids, even pre-wedding. After I tasted it, this recipe is definitively what Paula Deen would qualify as a “husband catcher.” I mean it, there’s no going back after you serve that mousse. I forgot to take a photo because IT WAS SO GOOD. I also made red chili chicken with rice and black beans tonight and I forgot to take a photo of that because I WAS SO HUNGRY.
If you’re interested in the mousse recipe, let me know. Maybe I’ll get snazzy and make a recipe card in Photoshop and link it onto here.
I keep forgetting to post this, but I found this book in a bargain bin at a Border’s while in Princeton, NJ last weekend. It was entitled:
What that price tag is covering up, is that actually it isn’t NPH’s advice, but rather Barney Stinson’s advice from the show “How I Met Your Mother.”
I just couldn’t NOT look inside to see what sage advice he was dishing out. These were a few of my favorites.
For the bro on a date:
And this one, just in time for the World Cup:
It seemed like a TV show version of Man Law. And I hate Man Law. So imagine my feelings for this book. I think the price tag says it all …
In other news, I am officially Captain Cat Lady. Jack has never worn a collar, but I decided I need to know, or at least hear, where this little varmit is. (He has taken to jumping on pretty much every surface I do NOT want him to jump on.) So after two days of me putting the collar on, and Jack finding a way to take it off, and me putting it on again, and Jack wresting it off … again … it is on, and I have hope its there FOR-EV-A. Sandlot style.
I also taught him how to sit. When I’d give him a treat he’d crawl all over me like a freakin monkey, but no more! He doesn’t get the treat until his furry butt is on the floor. It’s awesome. For his next trick, I’m going to train him to jump and flip my light switch in my room. It’s 100 percent possible because he’s already learned how to open the latch of the sun porch door to let himself inside. The latch is up to my waist. Yeah.
So for all his good behavior, he got a major treat today:
That’s right, I bought my cat a Kitty Garden. Really, who is shocked right now? That’s what I thought. It grows rye, barley, wheat and oats. Jack particularly likes the barley. Nothing like some fiber in the afternoon!
If you’re getting the Fail Whale on Twitter recently, you can blame it on me. I tweeted the NHL Awards last night. Saying it was better than last year’s really isn’t a compliment … but then again, it really is. A.O. won the Lindsay, Pavel won the Selke, Sid won something meaningless, Ovie cried when he didn’t win the Hart, blah blah blah. But, RYAN MILLER WON THE VEZINA! WOOOOOO! My love will never fade for you, Millertime. Never.
Besides the Coyote’s Coach Tippet’s acceptance speech that included a major ZING moment – “Usually coaches thank their owners, but I have 29 owners, soooo … ” – the best part was this montage video of Anaheim Ducks Bobby Ryan and Ryan Getzlaf battling out their Winter Olympics gold medal vs. silver medal. Check, check, ccccheck it:
Today is brought to you by my recipe search for my next great baking escapade. Any ideas? Requests? Guinea pigs? Le-le-le-let me knooooo-ohhhhhhhh. (Seriously Snoop Dogg, get out of my head.)