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Saturday, September 12, 2009



Take A Bite Of: Strawberry Mascarpone Ice Cream



A sinister and creamy bit of heaven. It is still HOT in ATL, GA and since my son loves ice cream, we are far from putting away the ice cream maker for the year. This thick, sweet, delicious prize is just what the Doctor ordered to keep the heat at bay.  If you don't have an ice cream maker, you can buy an automatic Cuisinart at Crate and Barrel and save yourself the hand cranking.  There are thousands of amazing ice cream recipes and guess what..homemade is worth the time.Try this, and next thing you know, your family and friends will ask you to drive through the neighborhood playing the ice cream man theme song. You could sell this and buy yourself a summer home, it is that good.Buon Appetito!Strawberry Mascarpone Ice CreamIngredients 1 1/2 cups half and half1/2 cup heavy cream1 tsp vanilla3/4 cup sugar3 egg yolks2 1/2 Tbs honey8 0z mascarpone cheese1 cup fresh strawberries2 Tbs Honey2 Tbs grand Marnier ( optional )Directions Heat half and half, cream and vanilla to almost a boil over medium heat.Meanwhile blend egg yolks , sugar and honey till smooth.Slowly whisk a bit of hot cream mixture into egg yolks to temper it and slowly return egg mixture to pan, whisk constantly over medium low heat until mixture coats back of a spoon ( about 5 minutes or so ).Remove from heat and let cool to warm.Add and blend in the mascarpone cheese.Refrigerate, covered until well chilled.Meanwhile slice strawberries and mix with honey and liqueurProcess chilled mixture in ice cream machine following  manufacturer's instructions.When beginning to get thick, add drained strawberries and continue to churn until a soft consistency.Then freeze well.Note: the liqueur in the strawberries may make the ice cream a bit softer.This is okay since this ice cream freezes hard and needs to soften a bit at room temperature before serving.* I have made this with blueberries and blackberries as well. Fabulous!




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ice cream,
recipes,
strawberry





Friday, September 11, 2009



Bravery



Before 2001, the  date 9/11 may have held the greatest value for the fact is was for some an anniversary,  the start of a new job, the day of a wedding, a big rival football game, or perhaps the day someone's first child was born.   Now, and possibly  forever, this date is scratched into the minds of so many people, not just  here in the US, but far and wide abroad, as a day smothered  by a blanket  manufactured from raw emotion, travesty and heartbreak.   A close friend of mine in  Atlanta went to school at NYU. He shared a letter from one of his classmates,  written after that classmate escaped and survived the implosion of Tower II at the  World Trade Center.  In my entire life, I have read very few things that  made me gasp, and weep, and ache the way this particular letter did. Even  reading his words on paper, about climbing down a pitch black staircase  surrounded by screaming and crying, I could not fathom the panic  he must have felt both internally and externally during this jarring day, or for the many jarring days ahead.   One portion of his letter  stood out to me as extremely telling, and it was the portion in which he wrote  about seeing the long line of fire fighters and police officers going up that  same staircase he was so desperate to descend.  Those fire fighters and police officers were climbing up that staircase to lend a hand, save lives,  perhaps instill a sense of peace.A staircase that served as a vessel of freedom for some. And an introduction to death for others.   I don't know if I possess  the volume of bravery needed to do what hundreds of people did that day. The bravery needed to go in those burning buildings and  climb those staircases. The bravery that leads you to save someone's life at the cost of your own.I hope I do.And I also hope I never have to find out just  how brave I can be. Bravery is easy to ponder when you have the luxury to think about it before it is actually needed.And bravery  wasn't limited to only the fire fighters and police officers, but also the  thousands of others who came to the  aid of all of those people broken by the events that took place on this particular September  11. This sorrowful event was shared around the world. The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it.    To everyone  who held a hand, held their breath, held a candle,  or held a heart on this day and the resonating days to come because of it, I give my respect to you for your bravery.God Bless America.           




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Thursday, September 10, 2009



Wash your mouth out......



As you may have determined yesterday, I am the advocate for "no bad words" in front of our son. I also enjoyed poking fun of both of my parents for slipping in front of him last week while we visited them in Seattle. So it is NOT funny that I need to order a case of EffWord for my transgressions yesterday.JohnnyMac called me in the late afternoon. I had several things occur at my office which displeased me in no uncertain terms. In regards to blathering on about work, I prefer to share only highly valid points at the end of our work day because I work all the time and I don't need to spend family time discussing it. Except for yesterday.  JohnnyMac asked me how the meeting/meeting/meeting/meeting went.  I opted to tell him about two specifics one of which included me saying loud and clear something highly poetic and intelligent like, "This is absolutely Mother F*cking ridiculous" followed by more pretty thoughts and sun-filled kissy style narrative.JohnnyMac then said in his oh so calm voice, "Honey, you are on the car speaker."Followed by a tiny voice saying "Hi Mommy."Even  when caught, I am very quick. I respond with, "As I was saying, my MOTHER thinks PUMPKIN is DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-licious. Except I said it as basically one long sentence with a very high pitched voice.JohnnyMac: Mmmm hmmmm. You are in t-r-o-u-b-l-e.Mind you, the worst word I have ever said in front of our son is sh*t.Mind you, I RARELY say MFMind you, it would be amongst a list of words I would NEVER want to say in front of my two year old.Mind you, when the guy at the car dealership tells you BlueTooth doesn't sound like speaker phone, even on speaker phone, believe it.As I said yesterday, where is that bar soap now, honey. I hope its a bar soap boomerang and comes back to me immediately.And oh look, just what I needed, more irony.This will give me something to think about while I write my 20 year reunion post this weekend.




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bad language





Wednesday, September 9, 2009



Irony (and oh, its good to be back in BlogLand)



Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh........I loved being home in Seattle. But now, I am back in the ATL. And we are ready to return to our regularly scheduled programming.Le Blog.And friends, I will be the first to admit I missed you. I am spending as much time this week as feasible catching up on your blogs. And of course, I am also back to my 6 posts per week schedule. Thank you all for reading while I was gallivanting around the Pacific Northwest.And on that note, here are some thoughts on my visit home. Or, what I will call:Irony: The Seattle Visit EditionIrony is when you once had the opportunity to have your mouth washed out with soap by one of your parents...not just washed out but bar of soap jammed in and twisted for saying Shove it to your siblings when in reality, you didn't even know what it meant and may or may not have allegedly heard this phrase from one of your parents.And then while visiting Seattle you have to reprimand first your Father for uttering  sh*t, bullsh*t, and G. damn it in front of your son. And then you then must reprimand your normally sweet talking Mom for saying prick in front of your two year old after we were pulled over by a police officer. In her defense, he was being a prick. Where is the bar soap now, honey?Irony is when you got a speeding ticket the very first week you had your driver's license and car, had your Mom find out without you actually telling her, having her stomp into your little after school job and demand your keys, only to have her promptly return in a few minutes to return the keys since you have no other means of returning home.And then, when you are older and oh so much wiser, you ask your Mom to drop you off at the big night of your 20 year reunion and since she has your son in the car, you then tell her to be careful driving him home approximately three times AND ask her to text you when she returns home safely. Mind you, this woman has multiple children and raised them all in a time when car seats were unheard of and seat belts were highly optional and rarely utilized.    Irony is when your entire high school existence, your Mom would always offer to do your make up for big events to which you gave a totally impolite UMMMM NO THANKS and made a ridiculous sneering face. Like your Mom could not possibly put on your heinous blue eye shadow any better than you. And then when you are older, and wiser, and realize that amongst the many reasons your Mom looks like a million bucks is because she does wear and apply her make up in a fabulous way. And then you ask her to not only do your make up for your wedding, but also for your big night of your 20 year reunion. And it looks terrific.    Irony is when you were a kid and obsessed with Mario Brothers and Ms. PacMan, and your Dad had to teach you how to play, and you think you still have all the mad skills now but no,  he can still kick your arse to this day.    Irony is when you were in high school and had to show your Mom how to do something on the computer but now, it is your Mom actually teaching you secret tricks on your Blackberry.   Irony is when your a kid and since you have "indoor chores" like loading the dishwasher, so you do SUCH a bad job when required that you hope to be removed from this job, and then when you are visiting home, you completely volunteer to mow your Mom's giant yard and she has to show you how to use the mower since you were so spoiled you have NEVER mowed a lawn in your life.And you actually want to do a really great job lest you provide your Mom cause to believe you can't even mow a lawn well. And you are secretly so grateful that your Mom has high-tech super mower that requires very little work on your part because you discover there is more than one reason you have never mowed the giant lawn...because mowing the lawn contains ZERO fun.    And irony runs both ways. Like when you are cooking soup on the stove, since you like your soup on the stove, your Mom says, "Oh, did you know you could put that in the microwave?"   Really? You think? And in your brain you say What is this microwave of which you speak?And since you are a serial smart arse, you actually verbalize this out loud to your Mom.   And she finds NO irony in her ongoing confirmation that at least ONE part of you will never change. 




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irony,
Seattle visit,
shenanigans





Tuesday, September 8, 2009



In-flight entertainment



Thankfully our son loves music like U2, Jimmy Buffett, The Eagles, and Coldplay. Thankfully Apple made an iPod in which I can upload many hits from the above plus countless others which help make traveling with a toddler significantly easier.  On the plane, he listened to the best playlist ever and was quite content. And when he tired of that, he could watch various videos on it too. It was a 4.5 hour flight each way to and fro Seattle. Content = very, very good.But, this does not rule out some in airport shenanigans...trust me.While in line for security, we do what we are required to do...off go the jackets, out come the laptops. I am not going to dicker over the TSA rules, believe me.  While perhaps it may be some people's airport initiation, the majority of travelers in the US are aware that the removal of shoes is also a requirement. Guess who did not know? The entire group of people in front of us who got RAILED on my the TSA agent. First timers to the busiest airport in the US of A? Oh no... They were flight attendants.   He yelled at them twice for overlooking an obvious rule they are required to do in virtually every airport in America.When they got sent back, our son yells YOU HAVE TO TAKE YOUR SHOES OFF.Haha. I love it when a two year old calls you on the carpet.While on the plane, our son was slightly enamored with the woman behind us who informed us she has ten grandchildren, and two great grand-children.  As I have stated before, you can spot those with a proclivity towards kiddos a hundred miles away when you are traveling. This kind woman was delighted to talk to our son. At one point, I turn around to ask her something and she is sticking her tongue out at him. I kind of laughed, in an odd way I am sure, and she said, "Oh, we were just playing with each other's tongues."Ummmmm. What? And yes, I know that is not exactly what she meant.And our son says, "That's not nice to stick your tongue out at people."Haha. I love it when a two year old calls you on the carpet.And then the woman one row over and up had a hacking fit of coughs. Sorry, I must have left my SARS mask on tram. Do me a little favor, and cover your mouth?!?! I am not shopping for Swine Flu just yet. But she just hack hack hacked away. Thanks.And then my son said, "She didn't  cover up her cough mouth."HAHA. I love it when a two year old calls you on the carpet.And when we were returning home, we hit some turbulence so the Captain turned on the fasten seat belt light. Minutes later a flight attendant came on to remind everyone to remain seated. Because clearly, people do not listen.At this time, my son is asking for a snack. I waited as long as a could but weighed potentially crabby child with a potential head jarring should my rise to the overhead compartment be timed with an extra rumble of turbulence. I decide to quickly rise and grab his snacks positioned strategically at the top of my bag.  As soon as I get up, our son says shoutsYOU NEED TO SIT ON YOUR BOTTOM MOMMY!Because clearly, people do not listen.HAHA...ummmm, what? Apparently I don't love it when a two year old calls you on the carpet.JohnnyMac and the flight attendant certainly did love it.And this is true in-flight entertainment.Our two year old son = 4Grown ups who should clearly know better in all of these instances = 0




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airports,
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traveling





Saturday, September 5, 2009



Take A Bite Of: Momcatt's Pumpkin Bread



One of my favorite baked goods coming out of my Mom's kitchen. And since Fall is being ushered in, this is a perfect treat for this season and the holidays. I also make mini loaves to give away. Perfect alone, slightly more perfect with butter, and if you want a twist, try a little cream cheese. Heaven. And the days I am really missing my Mom, this is a go to item. Filling our kitchen with the same great smell.Since this is our last day in Seattle, I hope I get some of this to take home. (HINT HINT MOM!)I need pumpkin bread to soothe us on the l-o-n-g plane ride back to Atlanta.Buon Appetito!And Happy Labor Day weekend.Momcatt's Pumpkin BreadIngredients:3 c. sugar1 c. oil ( I use canola)4 eggs1 1/2 t salt1 t cinnamon1 t nutmeg2 t (rounded) baking soda2 c. pumpkin (or you can use 1 15oz can of Libby)2/3 c waterMix togetherAdd 3 1/2 c flour. Mix until moistened.Pour into greased loaf pans. Bake 1 hour at 350 degrees.And just try to share some ok?




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baking,
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Thursday, September 3, 2009



Brat



I have laughed so hard this week being at home with family and friends. And the 20 year reunion was fantastic. More on that to come....And being home always includes reminders of shenanigans from yesteryear. Like the following:One morning, driving to my high school, all prissed up in my cheerleading uniform, I got pulled over. In front of the school. I saw those lights coming and assumed they could not possibly be for me. My Father was a Police Lt. so I thought this fact both absconded me from trouble, at the same time teaching me the art of not pushing the wrong envelope.This Officer pulled me over and proceeded to my window to chat with me about my driving. He also proceeded to write me a ticket for driving 26 mph in a 25 mph zone. WOW. You are a big _______ _______. After he gave me the ticket, I asked in my syrupy cheerleader voice if he did not, in fact, know my Father. He looked at my license and said, "Oh, yeah...you're ____'s kid. I see that now."NOW? And not when you were writing my name down on the ticket? It is not as if I was Penny PlainName. Did you also notice the resemblance? Shouldn't the fact I inherited my Father's nose pay off some dividend? I probably made a little scowl at this point. I asked if he had to give me the ticket.He said, "Well, I do now since I already wrote it."Believe me, this was LONG before dash-cams. One little ripped up ticket would have caused no harm. So I take my ticket, and my sassy ass, and stomp away in my little red and white saddle shoes.That night, my Father calls me.Him: How was your day?Me: FineHim: Anything unusual happen?Me: Ummmm. No.Him: Really? Are you certain?Me: OH! I ate tater tots at school. Yuck. You know I don't normally eat tater tots.Him: I am NOT talking about G.D. tater tots! Officer X called me and told me he cited you for speeding.Me: Hmmmm. Right. That.As I am quickly devising a plan/alibi/route of escape.Me: Correct. He did write me a ticket. I almost forgot. Did he tell you he wrote the ticket for one mile over the speed limit?SilenceHim: You have got to be sh*tting me!?!?!?!?!?!Me: Would I kid you, Dad?Believe me, only the d-baggery of the Officer got me off the hook. However:Him: Don't do that again.Me: What? Go one mile over?Him: NO SMART ASS. Don't lobby my name to get yourself out of trouble.Me: I will take that under advisement.I wanted my Dad to get me out of the ticket. DENIED. The judge however thought it was RIDICULOUS and threw it out of court.Total BRAT. That is why I used it for the title of the post. And not "Perfect Daughter."




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brattiness,
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About Me


JennyMac
Atlanta, GA, United States
I am a mom, wife, professional, daughter, sister, friend (and fab-u-lous dancer) sharing observations on life and culture. Thirsty for humor? Let's have a cocktail...
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Blog Archive





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2009
(170)


▼ 

September
(8)
Take A Bite Of: Strawberry Mascarpone Ice Cream
Bravery
Wash your mouth out......
Irony (and oh, its good to be back in BlogLand)
In-flight entertainment
Take A Bite Of: Momcatt's Pumpkin Bread
Brat
My paramour...





          ► 
        


August
(27)
So Taboo
Take a Bite Of: Mexican Chocolate Cake
What happens in Seattle, stays in Seattle
Homeward bound
Is it worth it, let me work it
Me love you long time
Shot Drinker
You give blog a good name
Take A Sip Of: Watermelon Bloody Mary
You're so busted,  you don't even know.
Name Dropper
A Beaver Tale
If these tiles could talk
Safety first
Take A Bite Of: Key Lime Creme Brulee
Potty Mouth
Oh Princess
The tiny brown beaver
Honky Tonk Badonkadonk
Let's play  WHO IS DUMBER
Take A Bite Of: Italian stuffed Pork Chops
Red wine under $20.00: One for every day of the we...
Run baby run
Don't mishandle the company wiener
Don Patron has an ugly cousin
Crotchety
Take A Bite Of: Boston Cream Cupcakes with Godiva ...





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July
(28)
A bar by any other name
Don't you be my neighbor
Sculpture: It's an art form
I give good blog
Scrappy...and getting awarded for it.
Get Tanked
Have A Sip Of: Basil-Strawberry Vodka Lemonade
My own cartoon life?
What Would Shady Do
Ungrateful
Be not my future daughter-in-law
Lemur for sale
Take A Bite Of: Raspberry Cream (Birthday) Cupcake...
Having cake, and eating it too.
Front Court Smash





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June
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May
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April
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March
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