Archive for August, 2010
… after playing around with ripping it off from several different other quiche recipes.
Yes, it’s for a quiche. A vegetable/cheese quiche. If you succeed, your quiche may look like this (only maybe not quite so yellow/green. I’m still not great with my new Nikon D3000 camera.)
Pre-made crust (I use Wholly Wholesome or Trader Joe’s brand)
1/2 onion, chopped
whatever vegetables you have on hand
1 container Boursin cheese
dash of salt (I skip this because I am an “over-taster,” according to My Chemical Romance. And he is a “person who is going to have a heart attack at age 40 from high blood pressure issues due to excessive salt intake,” according to me.)
Preheat oven to 375*F. Melt butter in a saucepan on low/medium heat. Add chopped onions and cook slowly until onions are soft and translucent. (Do not burn! It makes your whole house reek! And then you’ll wonder if you — and therefore your unborn child — are inhaling carcinogenic burned-pan smell and maybe you should start over with an entirely new pan. And then you’ll remember this is your fifth kid, and you probably did much worse with the first four.) Add veggies and cook for about 5 more minutes. Add boursin cheese and cook until melted.
In a small bowl, beat eggs and milk. Pour a small amount of eggs/milk into pie crust. Cover with the veggie/cheese mixture. Pour the remainder of eggs/milk on top.
Bake for 40 – 45 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes. Enjoy!
I’ve noticed lately that I’m getting a lot of hits from things like golden*shower.com and areal*s*xvideo.com and things like that, and I thought, Oh come on! It’s not called a ‘fistula’ because of fisting, people!
My Chemical Romance says it’s because of my name, Cream of Mommy Soup. But, you know, it’s like Cream of Celery or something! Not… ewww.
Should I change it? (again?) Sometimes I lean toward MommyMarinade.com since I love to marinade. Or is it marinate? Whatever. I can actually purchase that domain, mommymarinade, should I choose to.
Please let me know what you think!
In other news, Prop 8 (aka PropH8) was overturned. To which, if you can’t guess, I say HELLSTHEEFFYEAH!
I used to have my minvan covered in bumper stickers of all kinds — including “Don’t blame me. I was raised by wolves.” (Sorry, mom) and “Visualize Whirled Peas.” I had probably 10 stickers on there. Then I decided to get rid of everything except the ones that were really important to me.
So I kept my Cardigan Welsh Corgi Euro-sticker, and
However, when I was looking for that bumper sticker image, I totally wanted to buy this one:
There is something about gay rights that has always been a big thing for me. I can’t explain it. I have no dog in the fight. I don’t even have any close gay friends.
Maybe it’s not even gay rights — I just have empathy for people who are told that they can’t do XYZ because they’re ABC. I’m sure if I’d been around in the 1960s, I would have marched for equality; I definitely would have been all about suffrage. Gay rights seems to be the hot topic for my generation.
I just don’t get wanting to deny the right to marry. Seriously, why not? Marriage is a legal thing, but don’t we all have our own interpretation of it? No two marriages are alike. If two people genuinely want to get married, who am I (or you, or anyone) to say NO? Sorry, you do not have the opportunity to be an idiot like Britney Spears and get married in Vegas for 20 hours. Nor do you have the right to be like Elizabeth Taylor and pledge commitment to someone “til death do you part” — seven different someones.
Apparently we simply hold gays to a higher standard than that.
A really interesting book on the subject of marriage — historical through contemporary — is Elizabeth Gilbert’s follow up to Eat, Pray, Love, which is called Committed (A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage).
Every Friday night, My Chemical Romance goes to Nerd Night; Animal, Mineral, The Informant, and My Masterpiece watch a movie, and I have my girl friends over for Friday Night Jugs.
I have no idea how FNJ officially started. I love playing cards — my parents are actually professional card players, so games are part of my vernacular – but I refuse to play with My Chemical Romance because he is smarter than me and usually wins, and I’m a sore loser. Wii, on the other hand, is more my intellectual equal — at least when it comes to cards. Wii’s husband works very late most nights, so we were probably hanging out on a Friday night with our kids and they were bogarting the TV, so we decided to play cards like intelligent adults (SNORT).
Then we invited Nice-Nice, because she lives very close to me now, and she brought her baby, E, who still refuses to eat anything that doesn’t have Nice-Nice’s nipple attached to it.
I think next we invited Renaissance Redux — there! You officially have a nickname, RenRedux! I’ll explain it later — and Das Goofendorfer, both of whom have nursing babies.
In fact, everyone but Wii is either pregnant or nursing. I do not think she feels left out, though. She did nurse for four straight years.
Finally, Wii brought in The Mathlete, because we needed someone smart. She has the youngest baby, less than three months.
Occasionally we have She’s Super Sweet, and once we were graced with Six Degrees of Lora. She’s a photographer and everyone in the crunchy community “knows” her.
There are a few rules:
1. It’s always at my house and I make the best food. It’s at my house because four kids — and a half — trumps two (the next closest), and those two are Wii’s kids, who can hang with my kids if her husband isn’t home. Everyone else has not-quite-mobile babies. Also, Nice-Nice, RenRedux and She’s Super Sweet live very close. So it’s easy to get together for a game of four.
I make the best food because… I just do. Last night I cooked baked potato skins (sans bacon), mashed potatoes (made from the insides of the baked potato skins for Nice-Nice, whose baby doesn’t tolerate cheese), and black forest chocolate cake with overly-sweet vanilla frosting that I’d made for Nice-Nice the day before, when she watched my kids. Prior to that, I spent a few weeks experimenting with various deviled egg recipes.
I love cooking for FNJ because they appreciate my food!
2. When we have food, it stays in the kitchen.
This rule was instituted after a game-less game week in which we brought the food into my dining room and rather than play cards or games, we all stuffed our faces and yacked like girlfriends do all night. Wii said it was because the food took up the table, so we didn’t have any room for games.
3. Nice-Nice finds something offensive.
Nice-Nice herself isn’t actually offended; she merely points out that a certain phrase, gesture, word, look, food, child, joke, story, name, picture, internet site, magazine, book, movie, article, or Face*book game could be considered offensive. And how.
4. We offer three invitations to Friday Night Jugs; if you are invited and turn us down three times — without good reason — you are crossed off The List.
Honestly, I can’t see why anyone WOULDN’T want to come back after they attend once. The Mathlete drives over 25 miles one way for FNJ. Because it’s that awesome
I love Friday Night Jugs. It’s very refreshing after a long week, to hang out with my girlfriends. I look forward to Daylight Savings ending, when I can put my kids to bed even earlier and get more girl time!