Angel Hair & Shrimp

I thought I'd end this stream of out of no where posts, with one that at least looks more appealing than the other ones did. This was just some pasta tossed in a bit of olive oil, parsley, sauteed shrimp, some garlic and a little cheese. Pretty easy, pretty delicious! Welcome back, blogger babies.

101 posts? I should get a hobby!

Gnocchi Crab Bake

I should of titled this Gnocchi Crab Disaster. This was THE most expensive meal I've ever made, aside from Christmas or Thanksgiving which aren't really meals rather than spreads, and feed small villages so it's okay that they cost hundreds of dollars. My dad was in town, and for those of you who don't know my dad, he's the size of a tea cup poodle. Although, his bite is certainly bigger than his bark, he goes for high carb meals and more sour cream on your potatoes in one sitting than you've used in your lifetime. My point is, he came to visit and I tried making a new recipe, we spent a lot of money, and it hardly got eaten. It wasn't that the taste was bad, it just wasn't right. It called for a few fancy pants types of cheeses, which if you've shopped in the nice cheese section you know you're spending like ten dollars per tiny slice of each type of cheese. Crab meat? Yeah. I threw away some money with the meal. With the cream and the cheese and the pasta, it was so heavy, and thick, and dense. Oh did I mention, we couldn't find premade Gnocchi anywhere in the small po' dunk town in Georgia we currently were living in? Homemade Gnocchi? Psh. We were busy, alright?! So, we substituted with pre-stuffed ravioli... maybe that's where we went wrong. However, there were so many wrong turns here, one right couldn't have saved us in the end. Rest easy Crab Bake, rest easy.

Maybe you'll have better luck, real deal here.

Smore Bake

Say what? Yes, say it again. Five billion calories per bite. Every bite is worth it times ten. Everyone I've fed this to, the two.. or three times I have made it, cry from the pain inside their bellies after forcing themselves to eat more then they ever thought they could, or should. I like to serve this while it's still warm so, the chocolate and marshmallow run all over the plate and it's just a heaping pile of ooey gooey deliciousness. Now that I think about it, September is practically the best time for this dessert.. because well, I needed an excuse to make it of course. My husband has asked more times then I could count (math just isn't my strong suit) to make this and I usually try to avoid it. I picture us standing above the almost empty pan, spoons in hand, scrapping the remaining crumbs into our mouths like modern day savages. It was a beautiful day. A day everyone should have, and now you can.

I either found this recipe off of FoodGawker.com or Pinterest... however, the results are the same. Awesome.

I must not have been into staging fun food photos our last few months in Georgia. Oh, yeah, since this was made, we moved back across the country to Nebraska... and purchased our first home! (We should celebrate with some Smore Bake....)

Thanksgiving, Almost A Year Late!

Well, heh, hello there. It's really me. Not my husband coming to tell all of my die-hard fans that I've died in some tragic cooking accident. Death by good food. Good way to go, though. Ah, it's been so long I've almost forgotten how to be funny. Not sure if death is a good way to open up a food blog post, but it's slightly chilly outside and I'm not eating, so today seems a little dark. So I've made some recent discoveries while I've been gone. First, I hate not working, periods of not working tend to include lots of cooking and surprised weight gain. Who actually cooks and then eats it? I know I'm a rare case here. So I'm not sure how Paula Dean's fancy pants photographer makes her turkey snap shots look so beautiful but I swear, in person, my turkey is Miss America. My turkeys are prepared the same way every year, I just happened to get lucky the first time I tried it at sixteen, because I really do make a damn good turkey. Before anyone thinks 'she stuffs her turkey, she must be trying secretly kill her family because that just traps in disease and the turkey doesn't fully cook and they're all going to die after eating that turkey', don't. Thus far, few people have fallen over after eating my turkey, and it wasn't tragic, it was magic.

So, I may have gotten a little too nursery rhyme there, but it's going to take me a few posts to get back on my feet. Not that I stand while posting, but you get the point. With blogging so popular now you're probably wondering what amazing pair of yoga pants we all wear to reverse the signs of blogger's butt. I haven't ever Googled that but (no pun intended), I'm sure the term has been used. One of my not friends anymore friend's (you know, from high school, the tragic days) mom used to yell at us to get off the computer before we got 'secretary's spread'. I can only imagine it'd be similar.

So, here it is. In all his glory. Tommy the turkey. No, I don't typically name my turkeys, however, it may become a new tradition.