Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip Cookies

Today was a very lazy day. Embarrassingly lazy. I spent the morning catching up on favorite television shows online, and during each commercial break I was bombarding with the Payton/Eli Manning versus Donald Trump Oreo spots. Have you seen these? They are cringe-worthy, but after 2 1/2 hours of television I turned to Matt and said, "Can you get me some Oreos?" (Very good call on their part to market to pathetic women in their pajamas watching equally questionable shows like Grey's Anatomy.)

Of course he said no, and since I was still not dressed I decided to take matters in my own hands and make some cookies. I saw delicious cookies on The Bright Side's blog, but I decided it was chocolate or bust today (I still had Oreos on the brain). I had a little bit of butter, a little bit of oats, a little bit of chocolate, and a little bit of raisins on hand. No worries, because I found the perfect recipe for a little bit of everything: Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip Cookies. They are wonderful: crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside, and Matt and I adore the raisin/chocolate combo. Our favorite candy bar, in fact, is Cadbury's Fruit and Nut (chocolate, raisins, and almonds = divine). Even Matt, who is a cookie snob - oh, and he knows it - devoured them with his nightly coffee.

I'd also like to add they're quite filling, which is really a plus if you're like me and usually eat no less than eight cookies at a time.

Oatmeal Raisin Chocolate Chip Cookies
(recipe courtesy of The Dragon's Kitchen)

Makes 16 large cookies.

• 1/2 cup butter
• 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons maple syrup
• 1 large egg
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1 cup all purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
• 3/4 cup chocolate chips
• 3/4 cup golden raisins

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.

2. In a mixer bowl cream together the butter, brown sugar and maple syrup until light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the egg and vanilla, beating well.

3. In a bowl sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Set aside.

4. With mixer on low speed, add flour mixture and mix until just incorporated.

5. Stir in the oatmeal, chocolate chips and raisins.

6. Drop 2 tablespoons of dough into mounds onto a parchment lined cookie sheets. I made my mounds bigger by using an ice cream scoop. Space mounds about 2 inches apart. Bake until lightly golden around the edges about 10-12 minutes.

My mom got Matt parchment paper (well, amongst other things) for Christmas this year. I'm not sure why. But she just wrote me an email saying she was looking at the blog and disappointed I had not used the parchment paper in any of the recipes so far. So this is for you, mom. Sit back and take it allll in.

What; you don't let your dog lick the bowl, too? (For anyone who eats at our house: all dishes are thoroughly washed and disinfected in the dishwasher. Well....most of them at least.)

Camouflage cookies!

Spicy Roasted Cauliflower and Salmon

Martha Stewart scares me. A domestic diva I am not: I "clean" by sweeping things under the bed and in the closet, and "cook" by dumping ingredients in a pot. I do not care about thread-count, I can't craft a darn thing, and all of my drawers are lazily unorganized. But the woman (well, her team) can concoct a mean dinner.

Last week I left a recipe on the counter and a few ingredients in the fridge and instructed Matt to do the rest. I returned home to this: spicy roasted cauliflower and salmon. It was divine. It really was, and even Matt said we're adding this to our regular rotation (so thank you Martha).

A note: The recipe - in it's original, published form - is below. However, we had a VERY large head of cauliflower (it's priced per head and not per pound, so OF COURSE I'm gonna rummage for the biggest one available!) and doubled the anchovies/garlic and thought it was superb. Also, don't be scared of the anchovies! They added a delicious complexity of flavor to the dish, and were not fishy.

One last thing: Take "spicy" with a grain of salt. I do not eat anything very spicy (as in hot) due to my IC/Crohn's - the red pepper flakes just gave it a bit of a kick.

Spicy Roasted Cauliflower and Salmon

Serves 4; courtesy of Martha Stewart

• 4 garlic cloves
• 2 to 4 anchovy fillets (optional)
• 1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon red-pepper flakes
• Coarse salt and ground pepper
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 tablespoons anchovy oil (from can of anchovies) or olive oil
• 1 head cauliflower (about 2 pounds), cored and cut into large florets
• 4 skinless salmon fillets (6 to 8 ounces each)
• 4 thin lemon slices, halved, plus 4 wedges, for serving

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Gather garlic, anchovies (if using), and red-pepper flakes into a pile. Using a chefs knife, coarsely chop; season generously with salt. Using flat side of knife blade, mash mixture into a paste.
2. Place paste into a large bowl; add oils, and mix to combine. Add cauliflower, and toss to coat. Spread mixture in a single layer on a large rimmed baking sheet. Roast until starting to soften, about 15 minutes.
3. Season salmon with salt and pepper. Remove baking sheet from oven; push cauliflower to sides, and place fillets in the center. Arrange two half-slices of lemon on each fillet. Return to oven; bake until fish is opaque throughout, 10 to 15 minutes. Serve with lemon wedges.

We were both voraciously eating this, and fighting over the cauliflower. Who fights over cauliflower?!

Smashed chickpea sandwiches

Sometimes you just want a good sandwich. Fresh turkey, crisp romaine, hearty bread, and some mayo, if in the mood, is the closest thing to divinity. This week I wanted to add a vegetarian twist, and a recipe on Smitten Kitchen fit the bill. This food blog has the most gorgeous photos, and if you call if food porn, then call me addict.

These sandwiches are deliciously simple, and just plain delicious. The beans make them filling and they have a slight Medi flair. They call for olives - which I had on hand for half the mixture since Matt's a fan and I'm not - but he ate them when I wasn't looking. Go figure. He said he "didn't know they were for the recipe" but they were on the counter with all the other ingredients, so I think he's lying.

I topped my sandwich with some roasted red pepper, sliced cucumber for more crunch, and cheddar cheese (cheese makes everything better). Matt topped his with some gorgeous watercress (given to us from his parents from a hydroponic farm near their house...it still had the roots!) and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar: equally amazing, light, and just plain fresh.

Smashed Chickpea Sandwiches

• 2 15 oz. cans chickpeas, drained
• 4 Tb. sliced black olives (we didn't use)
• 4 Tb. finely chopped red onion
• 4 Tb. chopped parsley
• Zest and juice from 1 lemon
• salt and pepper
• few Tb. of olive oil (more or less dependent on your personal preference)
  

Mix everything but the oil in a bowl and lightly smash the chickpeas. Add the olive oil, and mix and adjust seasonings. Enjoy as a sandwich or atop greens.

See that plastic container in the middle? That housed the olives, which Matt "didn't know belonged to the recipe". Lies, I tell you, lies!!

Pre-mash.

Post-mash.

Check if out open-faced style!

Roasted Veggie Soup

Last week I made a soup with kale. Kale-wah?! I am a kale novice, and a bit frightened of it. First off, kale is one hardcore and tough green...it's almost....leathery. I just can't really imagine sauteing the stuff and it would surely beat chard or spinach in hand-to-hand combat any day. This soup also has butternut squash, which is a major milestone for me because years ago I made the following decree: "The most disgusting foods in the world are winter squashes, olives, and cottage cheese!" Now it looks like only two of those will be become permanent fixtures on the list.

I shamelessly stole this recipe from Simply Recipes - one of my food blog favorites. I've never had a knack at following recipes to their exact specifications, and I threw in some portabellos, which I know think are quite necessary in the dish: they add a certain earthy heartiness to the soup. I'm also a lifelong fan of all things mushroom. (And has anyone else noticed that the fancy shiitakes and creminis in the bulk bins are often just as cheap as the pre-wrapped button mushrooms?!) I also added some peppers to the roasting pan because I had them (a soup is the perfect excuse to clean out your produce bin, am I right?).

We ate this soup for two days straight and each night Matt brought home a fresh loaf of bread to accompany the meal. We're heathens!

Roasted Veggie Soup

• 3 medium carrots, peeled and quartered lengthwise (I used 5.)
  
• 2 large tomatoes, quartered (I used a can of peeled whole tomatoes.)
  
• 1 large onion, cut into 8 wedges or 4 or 5 slices
• 1/2 small butternut squash, peeled, seeded, cut lengthwise into 1/2 inch thick wedges (I used a whole squash, small in size.)
  
• 6 garlic cloves
• 1 Tbsp olive oil
• 6 cups or more of vegetable broth
• 4 cups of finely chopped kale (Used one bunch.)
  
• 3 large fresh thyme sprigs
• 1 bay leaf (Used a few.)
  
• 1 15 oz can of Great Northern white beans, drained
• I added a couple of large portobella mushroom caps, sliced, and a large handful of baby bell peppers.
  

1 Preheat oven to 400°F. Brush rimmed baking sheet with a thin coat of olive oil. Arrange carrots, squash, tomatoes, onion, and garlic (and any other veggies you're using) on sheet. Drizzle with more olive oil. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toss to coat. Roast vegetables until they are brown and tender, stirring occasionally, about 45 minutes.

2 Cut squash and carrots into 1/2 inch pieces; set aside. (I simply scooped the insides of the squash out and added to the soup as spoonfuls.) Place garlic cloves in food processor. Add tomatoes and onion; puree until almost smooth. Pour 1/2 cup broth onto the baking sheet; scrape up any browned bits. Transfer broth and vegetable puree to large pot. Add 5 1/2 cups broth, kale, thyme and bay leaf(s) to pot. Bring to boil. Reduce heat. Simmer uncovered until kale is tender, about 30 minutes.

3 Add carrots, beans, and squash to soup. Simmer 8 minutes to blend flavors, adding more broth to thin soup if necessary. Season with salt and pepper. Discard thyme sprigs and bay leaf.

What a bountiful kitchen. What a cornucopia. What a...okay, I'll stop.

Roast those suckers!

I only know how to use one blade on my food processor, and this is it.

Because of my sub-par camera skills, the soup is glistening!

Now how do I get to this wedding?

If you know me, you know I’m not a fan of weddings. No, scratch that: I’m not a fan of what weddings have become (read: the cost of your 20% home down payment). I was raised by really cheap parents: my mom washed Ziplock baggies!!! I had like two Barbies tops, and one of them was headless. I got socks and slippers when other kids got Nintendo for Christmas. I know, I know: it was a tough childhood, cry me a river.

But back to weddings. What in the world is going on here? And why, even with my distaste for the whole industry, do I get sucked into watching episodes of “Say Yes to the Dress” at the gym?! With all my ranting aside, I want to post this superbly cute video. It kind of sickens me on how GOOD it is, but if you’re going to make a “Save the Date” video, then darnit, this is how to do it. And being 5’10” (my coworkers measured me and said I was 5’11” but I WILL NOT ACCEPT THAT), I’m swooning over how this couple embraces their height difference. I mean, Matt and I are the same height but only recently have I been secure enough to wear 1 ½ inch heels. I know – pathetic. Now watch the video and marvel at how much more creative Jeff and Erin are than you and me.

Looking for a deluge of recipes? Why, yes!

When I’m upset I cook. And cry. And fling things across the room. I’ve been upset over, essentially, every facet of my life (read what you will into that, but I’m sure you get my drift since I talk about everything else, cough cough) for the past couple weeks. The only good every day constants are Matt and Penny, and thank goodness for them. Yesterday I was crying so loudly Penny ran over to my side and remained there, shaking. Poor darling. (She was surrendered and brought to the shelter by a divorcing couple, so I can only assume she gets very tense when I embark on an emotional fit.) Last night I told Matt to grab two (yes, two) bottles of wine and we headed to the Italian BYOB a mile from our house. It fit the bill.

Anyway, what I’m trying to get at, is that I have a ton of backlogged recipes that need posting, and post I will! Crohnies who are amidst a flare, avert your eyes! I’ll be posting recipes for crushed chickpea sandwiches, salmon and spicy roasted cauliflower, and roasted vegetable soup with kale for starters. Stay tuned, and savor the weekend. (I know I certainly will.)

With love,
The Gutsy Girl

We're gonna need some industrial strength Draino in here!

Note: I am delving into my journey (and I guess that’s what it will now be called) to have a child because my difficulties are, in part, related to my Crohn’s. No more, no less.

I’m going to try to avoid any further Draino references…but it’s hard. Yesterday I had my HSG. You know, the test where you the doc shoots some dye up through your cervix and down your fallopian tubes to ensure they are clear and an egg can travel down to (hopefully) be fertilized. First off, I would like to say the radiologist was beautiful in a “I’m a 2nd year resident and a little awkward but I’m tall and endearing” sort of way. He had me at “Hello, are you Ms. Hopkins?”, and if I were not married (oh, and trying to have a baby), I would have surely made sure to glance at his left hand to see if he was married. Secondly, my fabulous doctor asked if I’d mind if her med student watched the procedure. Maybe some women would balk at the thought of lying naked (from the waist down) on a table with your legs spread and a 24-year-old boy watching, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. But that is not me. “I have Crohn’s: there is no indignity I haven’t faced, so no problem, bring him in!” I said theatrically with a swish of my arm. So it was me spread eagle, a petite little radiology tech, my doctor, the goofy-looking (sorry, Brendan – that was his name) med student, and the gorgeous (in the nerdy way I like) radiologist. The more the merrier, I say. Of course, I immediately got down to business and asked the really important question: “Will this hurt?”

“You will have bad cramping – and you won’t like me for a bit – but it’s over in a minute,” my doctor replied. That would have been fine, but the woman lied. First they insert the speculum and then they wash your cervix. This is cold but no biggie, and women who have had children are probably thinking, “Get over yourself, sissy.” Fine, I deserve that. They then attach a big syringe-thing (I know, you’re like, “Where did this woman learn all this medical jargon?!”) into this long metal thing and insert it so the tip is through your cervix. Still no biggie. Then they say, “Okay, we’re starting” and start releasing dye into ye ol’ tubes. This is when I screeched, “You LIED!!” to my doctor, “This hurts!”. The rad tech was patting my shoulder and saying it was just another minute, and the radiologist had the x-ray machine above my pelvic area and was snapping photos. Everyone was looking at the screen and saying, “Oh, look at that, it filled beautifully” (thank you), but then, “I don’t see anything in her right tube”. Upon not seeing any dye they pumped more in and I am not lying: I have never felt worse abdominal cramping. My abdomen felt like it was expanding and contracting and it was very reminiscent of my severe Crohn’s episodes that sent me to the Percocet. I’ve heard this test is no big deal, it doesn’t really hurt, so I kept my mouth shut this time. After all, there was a cute radiologist in my presence – no need to make a scene. (Later in the day I read it is indeed painful if there is blockage, so I feel somewhat validated for my outburst.) In about a minute it was over – but the horrible cramping persisted for the next two hours or so – and I got my verdict: One of my tubes is clogged. I have a dud tube. (These are my words.)

The fallopian tube that wasn’t functioning is probably scarred and blocked by scar tissue, which may have been present long before my surgery, or not, due to the rampant inflammation in my pelvic area. I got off the table – blood trickling down my leg (“spotting” is normal after an HSG) – and got dressed. And this is the upshot: We are waiting for the results of my Day 3 (as in cycle) blood work – taken last week – and Matt’s, how do I put this?, oh, yes, semen analysis. If both are normal (I am indeed ovulating, and Matt’s sperm can indeed swim), I will be put up to three months of Clomid, which is a fertility drug, and if that doesn’t work, I will leave my ob/gyn’s care and go to a fertility specialist immediately. If any of these tests come back with a “hit”, we are going directly to the fertility specialist. She said if I do get pregnant on Clomid, I am a high-risk pregnancy because of the Crohn’s, but more particularly, because of this dummy of a tube (again, my words). Apparently, my chances of an ectopic pregnancy are much greater, so I will have to be closely monitored for the first few months. She said the fertility doctors may want to remove the clogged tube proactively due to the risk, or look into attempting to repair the tube – and remove the scar tissue – laparoscopically.

I got into my car and called Matt. Because he is Matt, he took this news as good news: “Hey, you have one good tube!” he said. We have dealt with so much disappointment, things like this aren’t wholly bad news, and in reality, it isn’t. One functioning tube is huge, and with fertility meds, can be as good as two. But I see it as the beginning of another round of tests and doctors (and possible surgery) and a whole new set of concerns. Hell, I’m frustrated. I'm sad. And very bitter than men do not have to go through this. I have also caught myself, with black mascara tears running down my face, saying, “I hope women who can easily have children realize how fortunate they are!” with rancor in my voice. This is when Matt tells me to calm down, and it will happen for us…eventually. He then asks if I want some chocolate or candy, because, like a child, I am pacified by sweets.

So now I’m just waiting for our other test results. I want to get a move on – get started on next steps, and get “Operation Baby” underway. Until then I suppose I’ll simply look in envious adoration at young families at the grocery store. With that said: someone please keep me away from Babies ‘R’ Us.

Eat cake!

Um, what is rich chocolate with coffee undertones, and a whipped cream frosting tinged with Bailey’s Irish Cream? Well, it’s obviously the cake I baked this weekend, which I’ve entitled “Irish Mocha Cake”. It’s a chocolate cake dripping in coffee and accented with tablespoon upon tablespoon of Bailey’s Irish Cream.

The original recipe was for a tiramisu cake, but that called for Kahula and times are tough; this girl wasn’t going to pony up for some fancy liqueur! Because I am nothing but a novice lush, we had Bailey’s in the fridge (score!) and I decided to take full advantage. Bailey’s plus chocolate plus heavy whipping cream plus mascarpone cheese? That’s what I call indulgence. And two extra pounds.

Now, I never purported to be a good froster. I am the worst froster, in fact, but the cake still came out relatively presentation worthy, which is a good thing because I was taking this to a dinner and you simply cannot take a mess of a cake to a dinner party. Well, you probably can, but Kathryn doesn’t do that.

The original recipe calls for two cups of heavy whipping cream (high carumba!) but I ended up using about half that and eating the rest of it with my spatula when I was done. (Wait, what’s this you say about counting calories??? Yeah, I don’t do that.) I also doubled the liqueur (goes without saying) and the coffee in the recipe because more is more, right? I also switched out the white cake mix for a chocolate, because coffee and chocolate are magic together. Oh, and the original recipe uses three cake pans; who has three cake pans?! I used two 8” and cut one of the layers in half because I’m fancy like that. And what’s more, the original recipe didn’t ask you to “coffee-fy” all the layers of cake. That is doing this cake wrong and I wouldn’t put up with it.

Anywho, the result is a super-moist cake that hits its peak the next day (not that I came downstairs at midnight to finagle a piece, no, not me). Oh, and it uses a boxed cake mix, which I’m all about (I bought a dark chocolate variety because, apparently, even boxed cake mixes can be sophisticated). If you’re fancy, garnish with dusted cocoa.

Irish Mocha Cake

CAKE:
1 (18.25 ounce) package chocolate cake mix
2 teaspoons instant coffee powder
1/2 cup coffee
2 tablespoons coffee flavored liqueur

FILLING:
1 (8 ounce) container mascarpone cheese (Trader Joe’s has it reasonably priced.)
1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
2 tablespoons coffee flavored liqueur

FROSTING:
1 ½ cups whipping cream
1/4 cup confectioners' sugar
4 tablespoons coffee flavored liqueur

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour 2 8 inch cake pans.
2. Prepare the cake mix according to package directions and add instant coffee. Divide batter between 2 pans.
3. Bake in the preheated oven according to package directions. Let cool in pan for 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack and cool completely. In a measuring cup, combine brewed coffee and 2 tablespoons of Bailey’s; set aside.
4. To make the filling: In a small bowl, using an electric mixer set on low speed, combine mascarpone, 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar and 2 tablespoons Bailey’s; beat just until smooth. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate.
5. To make the frosting: In a medium bowl, using an electric mixer set on medium-high speed, beat the cream, 1/4 cup confectioners' sugar and 4 tablespoons coffee liqueur until stiff. Fold 1/2 cup of cream mixture into filling mixture.
6. To assemble the cake: Cut both (I only did one because I’m lazy) cakes in half, creating four thin layers. Place one plain cake layer on a serving plate. Using a chopstick, poke holes all over like a crazy person. Pour 1/4 of reserved coffee mixture over cake, then spread with 1/3 of the filling mixture atop. Repeat for the remaining layers. Cover cake with frosting. Garnish as you see fit and refrigerate for at least a good hour (or overnight) prior to serving. Keep refrigerated.

This is me stabbing the cake with a chopstick.

This cake should be shameful; it's naked!!

The definition of a friend: they humor you and try so, so hard to act candid, yet fail so, so miserably. (Check out that expression on Brian, far right!)

The aftermath!

Holy guacomole!

This was a bad food weekend...and by bad, I mean DELICIOUS!!!!!!! Duh. We had dinner at friends' (who made a spectacular Thai dish - and I want that recipe, Megan!), and I made a Bailey's Chocolate Irish Cream crazy cake (recipe coming, I assure you), and then today Matt and I went up to his parents to celebrate his brother and sister's birthdays with crepes galore (and all the fixins for both the sweet and savory). My digestive track needs a break.

But, to fill the food void, I have a back-up of recipes that simply demand to be posted. There's that cake, and then a roasted veggie soup I made earlier in the week, and there's what I want to talk about now: simple guacamole. I love guacamole. It's a yummy fat, no? However, I do have a problem with grocery store guacamoles. Mainly, they are sub par and it's all a tragedy because good guacamole takes three minutes to prepare (and a little bit of foresight as you wait for those avocados to ripen).

We live in suburban Philadelphia, so naturally, we cheer on the Eagles. Well, they very pitifully played the last couple of weeks and were knocked out of the Playoffs, but that didn't stop us from making guacamole to go with our game day nachos. If there's one good thing about football Sundays, it's chips and dip. That is it.

This guacamole is as simple as it gets: avocados, a bit of garlic, salt and pepper, cilantro, and a can of Lime and Cilantro RoTel Tomatoes (that is my secret). The can already has the lime you need, it has cilantro (but I add more), and it adds a smidgen of heat. Also, I am strongly against smashing your avocados. I say dice 'em for a chunkier - and somehow, fresher - version.

Simple Guacamole

• 2 avocados, diced
• 1 can RoTel Lime and Cilantro Diced Tomatoes, drained
• 1-2 cloves minced garlic
• 1/4 cup (more or less to taste) chopped cilantro
• salt and pepper, to taste
  

Add all ingredients, and adjust seasonings to taste.

Guacamole needs lime, but not when you have a can of this RoTel on hand. It's cheating, but in the best possible way.


Here's Matt properly illustrating how to cut an avocado. Cut the fruit in half, around the pit. Remove the pit. Then, with a spoon, scoop out the inside of the avocado. Viola!


To die for (okay, not literally, but it's mighty good).

Weekend domesticity

I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of domesticity. Last weekend had an “all things house” veneer: grocery shopping (which I love, cross my heart), a run to Target (which I love even more than grocery shopping), Best Buy (which I abhor, so I usually mill around the sexy new washer and dryers, and yes, cleaning clothes can apparently be sexy, particularly if you have a teal blue LG washer/dryer combo), and a whole afternoon at Ikea (which I possibly love in its particle-board glory even more than grocery shopping and perhaps Target, but that’s a tough call). After reading this you can get two impressions: 1) what a quaint weekend, or 2) this girl is lame. I urge you to go with the former.

I generally only like three types of shopping: 1) at Amazon.com (I love putting books upon books in my cart and then closing my browser window), 2) Target (I get my prescriptions filled there because it’s just another excuse to go, and they have spectacular pill containers to boot, and 3) grocery shopping. I love grocery shopping because it’s an excuse to eat before I shop. Our grocery store has an in-house pub (no joke), a sub shop, pizza place, oh golly, a burrito stand, a sushi counter, and so on. Because they say you should never grocery shop hungry, I immediately head over to the eatery to get my chow on before perusing the aisles. Once properly satiated, I will shop.

There is no method to my madness when it comes to discretionary spending: I will, on a whim, decide I need a bookshelf for my cookbooks in the kitchen (see below), but then spend five minutes determining the pro’s and con’s of buying a bunch of fresh thyme for $1.99 when I have a bottle of the dried stuff at home. Matt told me not to get it, but “my soup calls for fresh sprigs of thyme!” I countered. This went on for a few minutes until I put it back, only to return three minutes later to place it in my cart when he was at the olive bar. If I can’t find him at the olive bar, you can usually bet he’s near the chocolate milk.

Then we went to Best Buy to get a television, which was my Christmas present. I think having a t.v. in the kitchen is trashy, so naturally I was pining for one for quite a while. As many people in my life already know, Matt and I do not have cable. Most people think this is unbelievable, saying things like, “I don’t get it” and “But what do you watch?!” in horror (with no sense of irony, mind you). Well, you can get CBS, ABC, NBC, PBS, CW, FOX, and a few other stations – get this – free! They come in crystal clear! No $100/month bills! And you can get some cable station shows online! (This is how I watch my new favorite show, “Jersey Shore”). Now I can cook and watch the evening news to my heart's content.

After Best Buy we naturally had to go to Target; it only made sense. Matt had a huge hole in his slippers (actually, half of his foot was sticking out). Being Matt, he was happy to duck tape them, but 1) they were stinky and 2) I knew I could get a Target visit out of this, so off we headed.

And then there was Sunday, when we entered Ikea in the mid-afternoon and didn’t return home until 7:30 pm. That’s what happens when you go to Ikea. You enter a vortex of young couples, words like Markor and Framsta and Lack, and oh, Swedish meatballs. Even though we knew what we wanted (a slender bookshelf) a visit is not complete without following the arrows and wondering through the showrooms and spying young couples looking at refrigerators. Did you know that Ikea makes refrigerators? I do now.

During our journey I picked-up a lot of really important, necessary stuff, like this:

That's a dog butt hook, by the way. We chose the green.