A Complaint

Okay I love my husband and all but his obsession with barbecue sauce is a little off-putting sometimes.

I mean, the man puts it on EVERYTHING!

I'll spend all this time seasoning a delicious cut of meat and cooking it to perfection only to watch him massacre it with barbecue sauce.

I partly blame myself for introducing him to Sweet Baby Rays, a family favorite.

Just the same, rather than wasting my cooking, I feel like I might as well just slap a hot pocket on his plate.  

It's not like he'd even know the difference under all that barbecue sauce.

On the other hand, when I do occasionally ruin dinner, I can always douse it in barbecue sauce and he'd eat it just the same.

A Craving

I have been begging Kyle to go to Tommy's Burger with me for months! It's a tiny shack of a place in Provo and I went there for one thing, and one thing only...

 THIS. The tastiest Chicago dog I've ever had in my life. I took this picture so I could drool on my laptop whenever I had a craving (i.e. now). Seriously, if you can go, you totally should.  And get a Chicago dog for me.  And please savor the buns. The buns are amazing.

(That's what she said)

Kyle went with a hamburger that had BBQ sauce, chili and bacon.

He said it was amazing.

I have a hard time believing it could ever beat the Chicago dog though.

The Secret to a Successful and Happy Marriage

link

I am here today to share with you the secret to a successful and happy marriage: separate tubs of ice cream.  I used to think that when you go to the grocery store, you buy one tub of ice cream and you share it with your spouse because that is the loving and kind thing to do.  Now, I know better. 

Having your own tub of ice cream means:

• You do not ever need to share (I mean really, sometimes sharing gets old)
• You do not need to compromise your ice cream hopes and dreams.  Kyle likes caramel, I like chocolate and chunky stuff.  Separate tubs=we both get what we want.
• You can eat your ice cream whenever you want.  With a shared tub, I always felt like I needed to eat it with Kyle.  But the problem with this is that I prefer my dessert shortly after dinner and Kyle likes to wait until the later moments before bed, long after dinner is good and gone.
• Your ice cream lasts longer.  Kyle is a natural-born Post which means that a serving of ice cream is equal to no less than 1/4 gallon.  Basically as much ice cream as you can cram into a large cereal bowl.  For me this is too much, especially with my delicate condition (read: gestational diabetes).  Remember folks, I have only been a Post for 21 months.  It may take me some time to reach my full ice cream potential as a Post.  Regardless, having my own tub means it lasts 2.4 times longer than Kyle's tub.  Win!

So if you find yourself quarreling over shared ice cream, do yourself a favor and switch to separate tubs. 

You're welcome.

A Moral Dilemma

Once upon a time I did a stupid thing. 

I am hungry, you see, and lunch is still a ways off.  A good amount of milk will usually keep me full for another couple of hours so I hit up the vending machine at work.  The only milk in stock is "Cookies 'n Cream."  Sounds good, right?  Chocolate creamy milk?  I figured it couldn't be that bad so I forked over thirteen dimes only to discover that my pint of protein came with FIVE HUNDRED CALORIES!!!!!  Can you even believe that?  A five hundred calorie bottle of milk?!?!  That should be illegal.

So now I am faced with a real problem.

On one hand, I am too cheap to waste thirteen dimes and toss the pint of caloric tragedy. I mean, this is $1.30 we're talking about here!!  $1.30 can go a long way in my book.  And, as you may know, I am pretty cheap.

But also, I am too afraid (and disgusted) to ingest 500 calories of whole milk fat and sugar.  Like there must be some kind of terrible cosmic repercussions for such a careless act.

But it does have 14 grams of protein...  is there even possibly an upside to all this?

To drink the chocolate milk, or not to drink the chocolate milk.

This is a serious problem.

Sandwich of my Dreams

I had the most vivid dream last night in which I was staring at an open faced sandwich.  It was so dreamy and delicious that I woke up and typed this into my phone: "French bresd ham swiss dill pickle."  (You must forgive the typos as it was 1:08 AM that I typed that) 

The sandwich of my dreams was a slice of french bread topped with ham, swiss cheese and two pickle spears.  And it looked something like this:

Only better, because in my dream it wasn't pasted together images from Google.  And in my mind I imagine it toasted until the cheese is bubbly and gooey.

Due to lack of ingredients, today's sandwich was not the sandwich of my dreams: 

Only it did have onions.  And these days, I do love me some onion.

Greeky

How many times do I have to write about food before I can consider myself a "food blogger?"

My mom did not so much care for her Greek yogurt so I gladly helped myself to it.  I had not previously sampled Greek yogurt but I just knew that I would like it because it seems kind of fancy and it's like one of those really cool things to eat these days.

Also, I'm kind of in love with natural frozen yogurt at such tasty places as Red Mango and Yogurt Stop. (Someone pleeeease feed me frozen yogurt! The fetus asked nicely)

So here are my thoughts about this particular yogurt of the Greeks:

1. What makes a yogurt Greek anyway?  

2.  What is locust bean gum? (as listed in the ingredients)

3. I loooove the creamy texture

4.  This was vanilla, but I did not so much taste vanilla?

5.  It is a little sour, which I expected, but I'm still not sure how I feel about it.

6.  I think this is one of those things I'll have to have a few times before I love it.

7.  If only I had some fresh berries to put in it...  I think it would be perfect!

8.  So far, it has not given me heartburn.  A big bonus in my book!

9.  In the absence of berries, I actually considered adding in dill pickles.  But then thought better of it.

(I am smart like that)

How do you feel about Greek yogurt?

Is there a certain brand that is the best? 

Can you define locust bean gum?

Love & Loathing

image from my brother's bar

I have to do that thing again. 

That thing that I loathe but I do a lot anyway. 

I'm getting on a plane.

I've been sweatin' about it for the last week or so.

To make it *that much* better, there is a storm coming this afternoon.

sigh.

To ease my unreasonable stress, I focus on what lies ahead: four days in Denver working the (wholesale) Denver Gift Show.  It is seriously so much fun.  I love our customers! I love the (wholesale) shopping!

And most of all, I look forward to My Brother's Bar.

Every time I hear someone is going to Denver, I tell them they must go to My Brother's Bar for a Ralphie JCB (translation: buffalo burger with jalapeno cream cheese).  Also, the onion rings.

It's not a fancy place and the only menus are printed on the walls.

It's dark and old-timey and from the exterior, you wouldn't even know what it is because there are no signs!  But that's part of the charm.  When you go to My Brother's Bar you feel like you're one of the cool insiders who knows what's up.  (Or maybe that is just me)

But more than anything, you go for the Ralphie JCB.  I'm drooling just thinking about it.

It's the thought of that deliciously packaged burger that will keep me sane during my 90 minute flight...

Torture

Once upon a time we went to Texas to see my Sister and my niece.  My niece has a boyfriend, which is so very weird unto me, but this boyfriend worked at a place called Rita's.  So one day we all went to visit the boyfriend at the Rita's. 

Enter: heaven.

This my friends, is the Gelati.  Italian ice topped with custard.  I recently remembered how much I loved this and now I can't get it off my mind.  It is haunting me day in and day out.  Infiltrating my mind like a delicious parasitic treat.  It's pure torture to be hundreds of miles away from the nearest Rita's (Arizona) and I can do nothing about it.

Have you ever been to a Rita's?

And on this day I tried to be positive

link
I recognize that I am equal parts female, emotional, and pregnant and that this can create quite an unpleasant combination.  I imagine it to be something like the vinegar and baking soda volcanoes you might have made for science class: a slow eruption that smells kind of funny.

As a result, I might have been a little cranky the last few days.  Perhaps a little irritable.  Maybe with some excessive sarcasm for good measure.  I mean, it's all well-intentioned, of course, but probably doesn't make for fine companionship. (Sorry, Kyle)

So today I'm dedicating this post to things that are cool.  Things that I love.  Things that rock my world.  You know, the simple pleasure in life.

1.  First and foremost: Marshmallow Mateys.  I think Kyle bought these for himself, but after the ice cream debacle, I don't think there is any food off limits anymore.  What's yours is mine, baby!  At any rate, Marshmallow Mateys totally rocked my morning.

link

2.  Maternity skirts.  After recently ripping a non-maternity skirt, I am ever more grateful for the fact that I have three well-fitting knit maternity skirts to rotate through on a weekly basis.  You see, I work in a place where I have to wear a skirt (or dress) and nylons (or tights) every single day.  I pretty much enjoy a bifurcated garment one day a week: Saturday.  Which is good because I only have one pair of pants that even fit me now.  (hello, I need a shopping spree)

link

3.  Maternity leggings.  Now that I've put holes in every pair of nylons I own, I pretty much wear maternity leggings and boots every day.  They're basically tights anyway.

link

4.  Eggs.  The news just had a special about how eggs are even healthier than they were 10 years ago: less cholesterol and more vitamin D!  This is especially good for a girl like me who eats 1-4 eggs on a daily basis.

5.  Teenagers.  I know, weird right?  I get to hang out with the young women at church a couple of times a week and they always prove to be a bright place in my dimly lit world of sarcastic gloom.  It doesn't matter how cranky I may be or how gross I might look, they always shower me with compliments and giddy wonderfulness!  Ah, to be 13 again...

6.  This guy.  (You know I couldn't make a list like this without putting him on here!)  Kyle never ceases to make me laugh, even when I'd rather be cranky.  He is the coolest, I sure love him, he definitely rocks my world, and while he may not be simple, he is always a pleasure to be around.

I could go on, but everything else I can think of is food related and I already write so much about food it is becoming an embarrassment.  Just think: pickles, mustard, olives, and frozen yogurt.  You get the idea. 

So what makes you happy?

Like a Freakin' Queen

link

I don't know, I guess maybe it was kind of dumb to eat three bowls of cereal at work.  Especially because I spilled half the milk on my skirt in the process.  Note to self: do not transport milk in a container who's lid does not fit.  I actually got milk everywhere.  I'm sure that's going to smell awesome later.

In other food news...

Yesterday I had the great fortune of eating like a freakin' queen.  For lunch I had sushi (sushi!!!!!) and for dinner I had the tastiest filet mignon ever!  (Thanks again, Elissa!!)  I mean, what does a girl like me gotta do to eat like this all the time?  Food makes my heart sing.  It is one of my great loves. 

Happy Valentine's Day to food.  I love you, baby.

Eggs & Such

How you like your eggs is a very personal thing, but don't you think?  I am just sure you can tell so much about a person just by knowing how they like their eggs.  I don't know what it is that it tells.... but, you know.

Really, I love eggs and I'll take them just about any way you wanna make 'em for me, but my very favorite is the way that my grandma taught me.

1.  Crack two eggs into a hot frying pan.

2.  Let them cook a little while until the whites start to become opaque.

3.  Put a little hot water in the lid of the pan and quickly dump it into the frying pan, and cover with the lid. 

4.  Let the eggs cook until the tops steam a pinkish color.

5.  Eat the best half-poached eggs of your life.

Like so*:

Now, if you were me (and aren't you glad you're not?) you would toast up some buttery toast and slap pieces of egg on top for a sort of egg sandwich with kind of poached eggs.  (The toast is perfect for sopping up running yolks)  (If you don't like running yolks... well, then, I'm not sure we can be friends)

*Do excuse my cell phone photography.  It's too much work for me to dig out my not-so-fancy camera and download images for da blog.  Besides, my eggs were getting cold.

A Public Service Announcement

I cannot say enough how much I am in love with my juicer.

Here you see green apple, orange, and pink grapefruit juices, juiced by yours truly.  I'm tellin' you, this juice doesn't even taste at all like the kinds from the store.  And to make it better, there are no preservatives, no artificial anything, and no sugar (except for whatever is naturally in the fruit, of course).

This is the juicer Kyle got for me and I think for what it can do, it was a great value.  Someday it might be nice to get one of the really expensive kinds that are so super that you don't even have to peel the oranges and grapefruits!  But really I'm getting quite good at peeling citrus these days and maybe it is good for me after all.  By way of information, I only have to peel fruits with hard rinds like oranges, grapefruits, pineapples, etc.  The apples were good to go.  We've also juiced carrots and celery (carrot juice is awesome!)

Anyway, do yourself a favor and make your own juice.  You will so not regret it!

During My Weeks Of Silence

All the things I wanted to say about being pregnant but couldn't during my weeks of silence.

(November 21, 2010)

It is still November and I'm not posting this today because we aren't going to make "the announcement" until after my January doctor's appointment. My pregnancy was confirmed today and we are, of course, SO HAPPY!! In reality, I'm still in shock. Still in disbelief. Still nauseas. Still kinda freaking out.

As soon as I got back from the doctor's office, Kyle took me out to dinner and then we scoured Target for "What to Expect When You're Expecting." The doctor recommended it, and believe me, Kyle takes the doctor's recommendations very, very seriously.

For further example: the doctor told me to drink at least four glasses of milk a day. FOUR! I don't even drink one as it is and I only really drink milk when I'm eating chocolate so this is new for me. Anyway, when we got home, Kyle poured me a huge glass of milk and said "finish this and drink one more before you go to bed!" Uh, unless he is going to supply me with endless amounts of chocolate, there is no way. I'm just not a milk drinker.

(November 22, 2010)

I went to the pharmacy for some hard core prenatal vitamins and saw other (more visibly) pregnant women everywhere! I wanted to run up to them with a big high five! A belly bump! A "you go girl!" Okay, maybe not.... that was never really cool to say, was it? At any rate, I'm finally "in." You know, part of the secret society of women with fetuses. The exclusive club I have wanted for so long to be a part of. I'm in! High five me!

(November 24, 2010)

It is so hard to keep this pregnancy a secret. Every time I talk to someone on the phone, whether it's family or work related, I want to answer "Hi this is Kourtney and I'm pregnant, how can I help you?" I've literally had to stop myself from saying something similar on more than a few occasions.

Right now I'm only 6 weeks along, which is not very much when compared to the 34 to go (15% finished!) but I have already managed to use the "pregnancy card" to my advantage.

Exhibit A: Due to fumes I was absolved from cleaning the showers.

Exhibit B: I was excused from the heavy lifting involved in our recent moving around of things.

Exhibit C: I can totally justify eating four Oreo truffles at a time(you know, so I can drink the milk after)

(December 3, 2010)

Someone please explain to my husband that hormones are real and beastly and sometimes take over my body and make me cry/scream/laugh hysterically at all the most inappropriate times. And at the most ridiculous things.

A car alarm went off 22 times in 2 hours today and I about had a nervous breakdown.

I just went from sweating like a pig to being freezing cold in a matter of minutes.

I nearly had a panic attack because I couldn't decide which 11" x 14" print to order and then after I placed the order I changed my mind and I couldn't go back and then well, the damage was done.

I slept 9.5 hours last night, 38 minutes on the bus this morning, and 24 minutes at lunch. And I'm still so tired.

I am hot. I am cold. I am yes. I am no. I am in. I am out. I am up. I am down.

I am an indecisive emotional roller coaster with a hyper-sensitive thermostat. Welcome, Little Fetus, and thank you for already driving me crazy! (But really, I'm so excited about you).

(December 7, 2010)

Today I am 8 weeks pregnant and I want to barf. If I didn't have such a phobia of barfing, I would probably just barf a few times and feel better. But, no. I hold it in. I moan and ache and writhe in bed for hours. I make Kyle fix me nachos for dinner because, of course, the only thing I want to eat is Mexican food. (Mexican food?) This is somewhat comforting unto me because I know that I am pregnant because who in their right mind simultaneously wants to barf and enjoy greasy Mexican food? Seriously. Burritos. Nachos. Quesadillas. I want it all. Also, there is the cranberry juice. I don't know what it is, but all I want to drink is cranberry juice. I stated my case for a solid week before Kyle surprised me with my very own jug. The jug that didn't last 24 hours in our fridge...

And there was that time just last weekend when I downed an entire container of clam dip. With chips. Ironically enough, I have no desire to even come near clam dip right now.

Ready for more food strangeness? My lunch of choice yesterday was cottage cheese topped with pickled beets, hard boiled eggs, cherry tomatoes and mandarin oranges.

(January 3, 2011)

So far I have cried stupidly about:

1. Taking down the Christmas tree
2. Kyle trying on a suit
3. Forgetting to buy milk
4. Taylor Swift appearing on Rachel Ray
5. Feeling fat
6. Going to bed
7. Live to Dance
8. The Constitution
9. The Saint Jude commercial with Jennifer Aniston
10. Just because

All this crying is, I suspect, just a way to prepare for all the crying that babies do. Wait, does that make me a baby? I guess maybe I had it coming.

Yo Quiero

link

I was driving around with Kati today (hi Kati!) and let me tell you, I have had the worst hankerin' for a soft taco all day long. So we detoured at the Taco Bell and it was seriously everything I had hoped it would be! Beef, cheese, lettuce and hot sauce. (I could eat another right this minute!) It was SO good that not more than 30 minutes later, we were back at the drive-thru for more. I am not ashamed; it was totally worth it.

I would just like to know...

link

What kind of person steals your shopping cart?!?

We had just finished hand-picking the finest of produce when I turned around and our cart was gone! At first I thought it was funny because I figured someone grabbed it by mistake and I'd find it sitting alone in some corner somewhere. But I was wrong.

When we went back to get another cart we discovered that there were no carts left so some *bleep* had stolen ours! I couldn't believe it. I kept eyeing others' carts to see if they had my squashes and apples hiding under their Marshmallow Mateys. But, no. It was for naught.

It wouldn't have mattered so much to me if our cart had been empty but do you know how long it takes to pick out good produce? It can take a long time, I tell you. And then we had to start all over again.

Saddest grocery shopping day ever.

Eater Beware

Since working late a few nights this week, I had the glorious opportunity to sleep in.  Late.  Normally I do not have time for much of a breakfast (seeing as how I wait until the last possible moment to drag myself out of bed) so it was such a treat to fix myself a hot breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast.  For fun, I threw in some diced onions and tomato.  Six hours, and several hand washings later, my hands still smelled like onions.  Only I kept thinking I smelled like B.O. because, (did you know?) onions smell like body odor.  It is true.  So, because I love lists and I want to assure everyone that it was not sweat, but onions instead that made me stink up my life yesterday, here is my list of foods that smell like various forms of B.O.:

Onions

Garlic

Doritos

Fritos

Cooked broccoli

Cooked cauliflower

Hard boiled eggs

Eater beware, even though they are quite tasty, these foods may incriminate you as a smelly fool.

Everything's Bigger

If you are thinking to yourself, "Self, it would be a great idea to visit a fair this year" you would not be alone.  I too am I lover of the fair.  I love fair animals I love fair rides and most of all, I love fair food.  So naturally, when we were in Texas last week, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to visit the State Fair of Texas. 

After three hours of stopped freeway traffic, this was a most welcome sign.

This, however, was not such a welcome sign.

But did you know that the State Fair of Texas is the largest state fair in the U.S.?  We found out the hard way.  As they say, "everything is bigger in Texas."  Even, apparently, the crowds.  (An average of 3 million people each year)

Here's a little equation for you:

3 million people=more sweaty arms unavoidably brushing up against you

3 million people=claustrophobia and also, perhaps, panic attacks

3 million people=an entrance line a few thousand people deep

3 million people=more little children to step on (accidentally, of course)

Despite the millions of people cramming every inch of the fairgrounds, we did get to see Boris III, an 1,100  pound boar... that's a lot of bacon.

 Remember how I mentioned my love affair with fair food?  It is real and everlasting.  We had a tough choice among fried cookie dough, fried butter, and fried PBJ & banana sandwich.  Behold the glory of fried cookie dough! 

Heaven. 

Heaven, I tell you.

I am afraid of the flakes

link

I absolutely detest soggy cereal.  There is just something about the texture of gooed up whole grains in milk that just makes me gag.  This is the reason I do not like flaky cereals.  I am afraid of the flakes.  Within seconds they turn into a gooey mass of carbohydrates, hell-bent on torturing my gag reflexes.  I do not like to gag.  Also, I do not like to puke, but that is a story for another day. 

Today I am thinking about cereal.  Perhaps it is because I am hungry at this very moment and wishing upon a star that I could have some milk in the fridge for which to have Cracklin' Oat Bran.  I looooove Cracklin' Oat Bran.  The Cracklin' Oat Bran is the perfect cereal because, you see, even when it has been sitting in milk for minutes, it is still crunchy.  Crunchy!  Yes, it looks like dog food and has more fiber than you can shake a stick at (and why wouldn't you?), but it is deliciously sweet and holds it's crunch.  But, sadly, at $4 a (small) box, it is a breakfast luxury and never lasts more than a day or two in my pantry. (It would be a sin to have just one bowl)

So tell me, are you afraid of the flakes too?  Or are you my friend Crystal who will forever live in infamy because she loves soggy cereal?

Fluff. Pigs. Spices. Also, Funnel Cakes.

There is so much fluff in my head right now I can hardly think.  It's making me motion sick, all this thinking.  To make matters worse, I walked into the Anthropologie today and smelled the most wonderful coconut something candle I have ever smelled and now I long to smell it more.  Someone please buy me the $18 candle so I can be at peace.  Also, my birthday is actually in eighteen days.  Just in case you forgot or something. 

But isn't September the best?  It's the end of much-too-hotness but still not quite into the much-too-coldness and then there's the leaves changing and the crispy breezes and pumpkin flavored everything!  (Read here about how much I love pumpkin flavored everything)  Which reminds me, I still need to try the pumpkin Hershey kisses.  Again, birthday=eighteen days.  Just FYI.

September, like the first day of school, marks the beginning of good things and wonderful firsts.  It's like a second January, when you feel a fresh start coming on.  At any rate, I forgot where I was going with that.  All that head fluff, you know. 

Speaking of beginnings and crispy things, have you been to Pig & Pepper yet?  You should go there right this minute and then come back here and tell me wonderful things that will make me not so anxious about the 36 pairs of leggings and the dozen or so handbags I just ordered to add to my loot in time for this boutique show you definitely should go to.  Or you may also recommend a delicious pumpkin something or other for me to try--that always calms my nerves.

And in case you are wondering why I chose a pig and a spice to represent my collection of accessories for sale, I will tell you the answer.  The answer is chapter eleven of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.  Have you read it?  I love it.  It's delightfully whimsical and strange and mostly comprehensible.  It's full of nonsense and wonderfulness and upside down backwardsness.  It's the very best thing to read when your head is full of fluff and that is all you really need to know. 

Kyle told me yesterday he thinks Pig & Pepper sounds like I'm selling seasoned pork.  And I guess, maybe, in a way, you could say I am.  I don't know.  Try to find some logic in that, why don't you? 

But if you are to remember two things today, remember first to go visit Pig & Pepper and remember second that funnel cakes are the very next best thing to pumpkin flavored everythings.  And tonight, Kyle is taking me to the fair and there will be funnel cakes at the fair, to be sure.

The Nerve

I made snickerdoodles for my young women's class on Sunday.  I could tell Kyle was a little put-out that all thirty-six of them were not for him, but he didn't even try to eat my cookie dough as I was baking (that's a first!) and he sounded only slightly disgruntled when I explained they were for the twelve and thirteen year old girls at church.  After church I had approximately ten cookies remaining.  And this is the point where I should have counted and labeled each one because by the end of the night they were gone! Vanished!  I kept thinking to myself, "How could I have eaten so many of those??  Kyle only had a couple..."

And 24 hours later the secret came out.

He had stashed them away!

His own private stash!

Of the cookies I had slaved over!

He just hid them away!

And then he ate them for lunch!

Can you even believe that?

And this after I had given him permission to eat my chocolate covered gummy bears.

The nerve.

And do you know what he tells me?  "Every Post has a stash."  He says this so matter-of-factly and as if I should have known this all along. 

Where have I been?

This totally explains why he tried to hide the Chewy Chips Ahoy in the pantry underneath the hamburger buns that one time.  (But I do have separate thoughts on Chewy Chips Ahoy which involve feeling that if you're going to buy store-bought cookies, then they might as well be crunchy because even chewy store-bought cookies will never be chewy like homemade cookies)

And so I baked a few dozen chocolate chip cookies.

And guarded them with my life.

I ate cookie dough all by myself.

And packaged them away tightly.

Except I felt sorry for him when he told me I was mean like a mother and so I gave in and shared my stash. 

 It's those pouty blue eyes, I tell you.  They just get me every time.

But I am plotting my own private stash...  and this time I'll not give in.