Category Archives: Funny Stuff

Popcorn Fail

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Those of you who already bought my new cookbook (thanks!) might have seen waaaay in the back my efforts at a recipe for DIY microwave popcorn.

I love popcorn and it’s a whole grain, but it loses its health benefits when you cook it in a ton of oil and smother it with salt and butter. So I put myself on a quest to figure it out. After all the turmoil, failed experiments, and hot kernels in my eye, I finally succeeded, so YAY me.

And then one day (about 47 seconds after my cookbook was published) I was walking through Target and saw this for $8.99 …

popcorn bowl

The Nordic Ware Microwave Popcorn Popper.

In 3 minutes it makes enough popcorn for hubs and myself. No oil, no mess, no fuss.

D’oh.

No, they aren’t paying me to pitch it, but if they wanted me to, I could do it in my sleep. That’s how much I love it. Perhaps I’ll shoot a hot kernel in my eye, though, for old times sake.

Are there any other secrets you people are keeping from me??

The Color Run – Join My Team!

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If you’ve visited my website for more than 8 seconds, you probably know I’m kinda lazy. I acknowledge that I need to exercise, though, to maintain the perkiness that is The Becky. Mostly I’d rather do it from the comfort of my own home where nobody cares about the decidedly unladylike noises I make while lifting weights or mocks me for how many times I must pause the treadmill to run upstairs and piddle.

I will, however, make an exception to play in the park for The Color Run. This sounds like entirely too much fun to be exercise!

The Color Run is a 5k, but don’t let that scare you. According to their FAQs, “There are plenty of other great 5ks out there to test speed and performance. This Color Run™ event is all about a color crazy day with friends and family. You can run, walk, crawl, or cartwheel if you wish!”

There’s no age limit to The Color Run which is also different from most other races. But the biggest difference is that throughout the course there are “Color Zones” where all the runners/walkers/crawlers/cartwheelers are pelted with different colored explosions of a cornstarch-based concoction. By the time you finish the race, you are a rainbow of silly gorgeousness.

Watch this The Color Run video… and this one …

Doesn’t that look like FUN?!

They do these events all over the country (and Australia) and in every venue they pick a cause or an organization to donate to.

Do you want to join my team for a Color Run in Denver at City Park on June 16? Speed is of the essence, not for the race, but for registration. Everyone has to register on their own, and apparently these races fill up fast. If you’re even toying with the idea of considering thinking about it, I suggest you add your name to the VIP list so you get notified when registration changes, or if they make announcements you need to be aware of.

It looks like early registration is open and costs $35/person. On March 1 the price goes up to $40 … and after May 1st it’s $45.

We’ll need a groovy team name, too. Here are some I’ll run up your flagpole:

• Lazy Psychedelic Relics

• Lazy Palette

• True Colors of Laziness

• Lazy Riot

• What Would Honey Badger Do?

So … are you in? I said, ARE YOU IN?? Let me know by leaving a comment. And check back in a couple of days where I’ll update this page with the Official Team Name so you can get registered. Even if you can’t join us, please tell me which name you like, or toss in one of your own. (We need to have one before we start registering, so we can all be on the same team. I’ll pick one by executive decision very soon.) I suspect I will have awesome prizes for my team too … Most Colorful … Pinkest … Best Use of Goggles or Headband … oh, the possibilities!

But seriously, ARE YOU IN???

Spatchcocking the Bird

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It sounds like as much fun as it was.

Please enjoy immoderate amounts of information and photos from a previous Thanksgiving bacchanal.

The word “spatchcock” — for those of you not up-to-date on archaic vocabulary —  is a combination of “dispatch” meaning to prepare poultry for cooking (including all the indelicate parts from killing to feathering to trimming; you know, the stuff you don’t want to know about) and “cock” meaning bird. Dispatch the cock. Spatchcock.

The more modern meaning would be “tell your husband to remove himself from the recliner because it’s time to fight with this slippery turkey and we have a zillion people coming over soon.”

Come. Join me on a pictorial tutorial through a half hour of our Thanksgiving morning. Apologies to my vegetarian friends and those foreigners who might not comprehend the desperate measures and sacrifices Americans make on this holiest of Eating Holidays.

Posing and dancing the bird on the counter is the first step. That’s how you know if it’s ripe.

Cut one side of the backbone …

… then the other …

… finally removing it altogether. Then hope your grandma doesn’t smite you from her heavenly perch for not saving it to make soup.

Almost spatched.

Turn it over. Maneuver it one last time in a demure pose. After all, how would you feel to be all naked on the kitchen counter like that?!

Press firmly on the sternum until it makes a delicious cracking sound. Like a really good chiropractic adjustment.

Spatched.

And posed one last time. Just because it’s fun.

Ready to cook …

Cooked. Quite delish.

The benefits to spatchcocking are numerous and include more than just getting to play with your food. Your turkey cooks in about half the time, but choose one that’s no more than 15 pounds. (This one was about 11 pounds. We did another one in the traditional way. You know, in a bag.) You can get the spices everywhere much easier. Breast and thighs are done at the same time. Crispier skin. Easier to carve. Guaranteed blog entry with maybe the extra bonus of angry vegetarian comments.

You will sacrifice the big Norman Rockwell presentation, but by the time that happens, everyone is all liquored up anyway and just wants to tear into a drumstick.

Chief Spatchcocker says I wouldn’t be able to do it myself but methinks he underestimates the mighty, mighty power of my willfullness. Or what I’d do for a blog entry.

And here’s a dramatic video representation. Have a tissue handy … it’s a tear-jerker.

So … what do you think? Will you spatchcock YOUR bird?

100 Foods To Eat Before You Die

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This Food List Challenge has been going around Facebook for awhile, but I hate installing the apps, so I hadn’t done it. Then, because I’m smart this way, I thought, “Oh! I should check the google. Maybe the magic box has it.” Lo and behold, I found this blog that had the list.

I don’t know that I’m a particularly adventurous eater, but I don’t shy away from trying new things when offered, so I was curious. I’ve bolded everything I’ve tried and crossed out everything that wouldn’t touch my lips even if George Clooney held it there and spoke soothingly to me. The rest I guess I’ll have to seek out.

 1. Venison — duh. I live in Colorado.

2. Nettle tea

3. Huevos rancheros

4. Steak tartare — that’s dangerous

5. Crocodile

6. Black pudding — in England, Ireland and Denver

7. Cheese fondue

8. Carp

9. Borscht

10. Baba ghanoush

11. Calamari

12. Pho

13. PB&J sandwich

14. Aloo gobi — at an Indian buffet where I asked, “What’s this?” about a thousand times

15. Hot dog from a street cart — NYC, baby

16. Epoisses

17. Black truffle

18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes — duh, Boone’s Farm Strawberry, plus I get extra points for drinking wine made from something other than fruit (green chile wine)

19. Steamed pork buns

20. Pistachio ice cream

21. Heirloom tomatoes

22. Fresh wild berries — in Montana. The same ones the bears were eating. Well, not the VERY same ones …

23. Foie gras

24. Rice and beans

25. Brawn, or head cheese — meat jelly? No, you can have mine.

26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper — crossing off all the uber-hot peppers. Nobody needs that.

27. Dulce de leche

28. Oysters

29. Baklava

30. Bagna cauda

31. Wasabi peas

32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl

33. Salted lassi

34. Sauerkraut

35. Root beer float

36. Cognac with a fat cigar — I’ve had the fat cigar, but I honestly don’t know if I’ve had cognac

37. Clotted cream tea

38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O —are they talking about Jello shots? If so, then yes. Don’t judge me, I’m sure it was accidental.

39. Gumbo

40. Oxtail — the soup variety

41. Curried goat

42. Whole insects — I think I had chocolate-covered grasshoppers once. Does that count? And my kids used to make ‘Ants on a Log’ but I think that was different. Gummy worms don’t count either.

43. Phaal

44. Goat’s milk — yes, and I’ll never do it again.

45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more — don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you know how many six-packs you can get for $120??

46. Fugu — pufferfish. I shy away from food that can kill me.

47. Chicken tikka masala — see #14

48. Eel

49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut — fresh from the hot oil!

50. Sea urchin

51. Prickly pear

52. Umeboshi

53. Abalone

54. Paneer

55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal — in my wild and crazy youth, of course

56. Spaetzle

57. Dirty gin martini

58. Beer above 8% ABV — mmmm …. A gorgeous chocolate ale

59. Poutine

60. Carob chips

61. S’mores

62. Sweetbreads — kids, don’t be confused; this is not what it sounds like. but technically, yes, because I’ve had Rocky Mountain Oysters

63. Kaolin — this one confused me because it’s clay-like soil. But it’s Kaopectate, so yes, it’ll cure what ails you.

64. Currywurst

65. Durian — no, but I am desperate to try some. How could you not want to eat something that tastes good but smells like rotting flesh?

66. Frogs’ legs

67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake — duh, I’ve left my house once or twice over the years

68. Haggis — I should take credit for this one because both my daughter and my father are fans ‘o the haggis

69. Fried plantain — delicious

70. Chitterlings, or andouillette

71. Gazpacho

72. Caviar and blini — separately, so I’m counting them

73. Louche absinthe

74. Gjetost, or brunost — goat cheese but only the once … blech

75. Roadkill — I’m drawing the line here.

76. Baijiu

77. Hostess Fruit Pie — in fact, I got in trouble for stealing one, once. Again, don’t go all judgy on me.

78. Snail — but I call them by their Christian name, Escargot

79. Lapsang souchong

80. Bellini

81. Tom yum

82. Eggs Benedict

83. Pocky

84. Tasting menu at a three-Michelin-star restaurant — I’m not fancy like that, but I’m willing to learn!

85. Kobe beef

86. Hare — different from ‘hair’ which I don’t see on this list

87. Goulash

88. Flowers — yes: calendula, carnation, dandelion, honeysuckle, pansy, safflower, and sunflower at least

89. Horse — ewww!

90. Criollo chocolate — I don’t think so, but please send me some

91. Spam

92. Soft shell crab

93. Rose harissa — never, but I allowed the piri piri my hubbie brought back from the Congo stay in my fridge for a fairly long time

94. Catfish

95. Mole poblano — does a taste off my husband’s plate count?

96. Bagel and lox

97. Lobster Thermidor

98. Polenta

99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee — that’s just showing off

100. Snake — no, but I bet it tastes like chicken

So that’s 55 I’ve had, with 8 I’ll never try. Although, George, if you’re reading, there’s no reason you shouldn’t come over with that expensive bottle of whiskey. I’d allow you to try and convince me to drink it with you.

How ’bout you? How many have you tried? How many did you cross off?

What’s Your Funniest Kitchen Story or Food Tradition?

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To say THANK YOU for a great year — and to have some fun — I’m having a contest.

Just leave a comment on this blog — the one entitled, “What’s your funniest kitchen story or food tradition?”

The winner gets a digital copy of your choice of one of my books. Deadline is January 13, 2012. I might award prizes in other categories too, depending on the quality and quantity of the entries.

I’ll whittle the entries down to the three funniest and set up a poll which you can share with your friends and shamelessly beg for their votes, because honestly – despite what the hokey pokey says – WINNING FREE STUFF is what it’s all about. Of course your friends can also play, and they should because no prizes will be awarded unless there are at least 20 entries before the deadline.

Have fun with it and accept my heartfelt thanks for a fabulously entertaining and lazy year … let’s have another one, okay?

Cheers and Happy Eating!

 

 

PS — don’t forget to join my mailing list or check back here to see if your entry made the cut and to get your friends to vote!

The Freshiest Info On the Web

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My friend George posted this on his blog. It’s just too funny not to steal, er, share.

Laughter Is The Unintended Medicine

Kids write the darnedest things. Here are some entertaining excerpts from actual student essays. The teens’ task here? To explore the pros and cons of eating locally; the “locavore” movement.

One student kicked it off thusly: “No matter if you’re religious or a vegetarian, you still have to eat food.” In fact, that is pretty much true unless you are undead. And if that’s the case, your first priority is probably not whether your red peppers are from out of state.

Although, another student made the argument that eating locally would be beneficial if there were a “zombie apocalypse in New Jersey.” I think teachers appreciate humor, but they generally consider it a smoke screen for a lack of hard facts. At least my high school grades would indicate so.

One student noted that “lambs in New Zealand are raised in pastures with a small carbon football.” You know what he meant, of course, right? He is referring to what we would call a soccer ball.

One student suggested that “with the help of education and governmental support, locavores could consume most of our population.” That would certainly leave very few produce-truck drivers, rendering the entire issue moot. Or maybe it is a reference to that zombie situation New Jersey has.

Strangely enough, another student’s gaffe seemed to reference this whole cannibalistic theme: “It does not mean that people who do not eat from this option are less nutritious.” Mmmm. Locavores. They taste like chicken.

Many students were cynical about the locavore movement. One wrote “That’s government official! They must know the truth and have obviously disproved this hippie theory so far.” Another went so far as to say “Locavores are becoming a parasite phenomenon throughout America.” Certainly in New Jersey, if rumors bear out.

One student, presumably from a red state, wrote “…becoming a locavore, like becoming a vegetarian, a Democrat, a homosexual…” What, he ran out of room for “NPR listener”?

Not all teens were anti-local-food, though. “It’s freshier,” one wrote. I expect there is some “truthiness” in that. Another opined, “The locally grown fruits must really be replete with savory juices.” And his future is clearly replete with a career in advertising.

One student wrote, “Local food has less chance of containing alien diseases.” You know. Like the ones that caused that Garden State zombie thing. Another student was less concerned about human welfare: “Pollution can intoxicate animals and produce as well.”

You think you know “crazy drunk”? You have not seen “crazy drunk” until you have seen “rutabaga crazy drunk.”

Several kids seemed to be a little vague on the geography: “…sub-Saharan Africa, the provider of much of the world’s produce.” Yes, I often load up my grocery cart with fresh African, um, the uh, you know. Those…oh never mind.

And this, from perhaps a Southern Californian, “We live in a dessert; very little food can be grown here.” True enough, but don’t discount our hot fudge rivers and red velvet valleys.

One kid commented on the harvesting aspects, noting that produce gets “handpicked by many cheap labored workers.” And the growers? “They are reeking the benefits.” One writer suggested Americans are cheap; “That’s why we’re overweight and unhealthy. People need to spend a little more money if they want to be America’s Next Top Model.”

Another kid wrote that the locavore movement was “completely soundproof and ecologically correct.”

The locavore debate will go on, but as this kid put it, one thing is for sure: “Health is the main concern of this rotund country.”

~~~~~

I don’t know which to worry about more … their grasp of language or the way logic seems to ping around in their brains and never find its way out.

Playing With Food

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On my personal blog, every year I link to the Peeps Diorama contest our newspaper puts on. And every year I am truly amazed at the talent some people have. My hubbie and I even tried our hand at one this year. We woefully overestimated our artistic skills and underestimated the stickiness of Peeps.

Here in LazyLand I am dabbling in yoga, and by ‘dabbling’ I mean trying to keep my balance while standing on two feet. Mock me if you must, but I bet you’ll get bored soon since I’m such an easy target.

I know some of you stay fit with yoga, so I though you might like this backstage peek at a yoga peeps diorama. Very cute and cool to see some of the tricks of the trade.

I love these dioramas, and Peeps just beg to be played with (waaaay better than eating them – ugh!) but I’m wondering, did you ever play with your food? I don’t mean push it around your plate with a fork; I mean REALLY play with it. I want stories! How did your parents react? Do your kids play with their food? How do you react? If you didn’t play with your food as a kid and feel like you missed out on some rite of passage, if I invited you into the time machine, what foodstuffs would you like to play with?

Japan Is One Forward Thinking Country

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Weird boozy synchronicities collided in my world recently, topping off my inbox with a sudsy head of foam.

First, the Olive Garden is now offering sangria on their kiddie menu.

Then, I hear that Applebees is jumping on that marketing bandwagon too. They’re calling theirs “Baby Margaritas.” I wonder if they put teething gel around the rim.

And finally, I see this commercial from Japan. Beer for kids … proving it’s never too early to get started on those healthy habits.

Instead of writing in, chastising me for my lack of good taste (get in line, baby!), channel that creative energy into putting English lines to the Japanese music. Then we can all be in bad taste together. I’ll start.

“Mommy, Mommy please go get me some liquor”

Okay …. GO!

How To Count Laps

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I heard a good idea the other day for those of you who, like me, can barely remember their way home.

*crickets chirping*

What are you doing here? Did I summon you? Oh, that’s right … a good idea for those of us with sieve-like memories.

If you have trouble remembering how many intervals or sets you did, or how many laps you need to do around the track, you should count out the appropriate number of almonds. Carry them in your pocket and eat one after every interval, set or lap.

Good idea, eh?

Until I realized I don’t have pockets in my workout clothes.

But then I had my own good idea. Do the same thing with elastics on your wrist or treadmill handle. Simply transfer them to the opposite one after each completion.

Now that I’m thinking about it, there are a gazillion ways to handle this problem.

• Use the almond idea, but start out with them all in your mouth. Spit one out after every quarter mile lap. Use extreme caution if you do this during a marathon.

• Wear as many t-shirts as you have laps to run and peel one off every time. When you’re naked, you’ve done one too many.

• Barrettes. Before you go on your three mile run, place 12 barrettes in your hair. As you complete each quarter mile, take one out. To double your workout (and your fun!) fling each one on the ground and retrace your steps to put them all back in your hair. Then take a picture and send it to me.

• Ration your water. Find a water bottle marked at one-ounce intervals. Fill each interval for your, um, intervals. Drink one ounce of water after each, say it with me … interval.

Or just do what I do. Stop running when you can’t breathe anymore.

Do you have any good ideas as to how one can brainlessly count laps or intervals?

Edible Dirt

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If a waiter stuck a plate of dirt in front of me at a restaurant, I’m not gonna lie. I’d eat it.

But only because I know about the crazy new edible dirt food fad.

Assuming you go to the right restaurant, the dirt isn’t really dirt. In the photo above, the “dirt” is crumbled mushrooms. Other times it’s chickpeas, or dried malt, or olives, or charred onions.

But if you come for dinner in LazyLand, don’t be surprised if you get dirt and worms for dessert. For those of you who never had little kids terrorizing your kitchen, that would be chocolate pudding, crushed Oreos and gummi worms mooshed together by little fingers, lovingly designed and proudly served.

Are you an adventurous eater, willing to try new things? Have you or your kids ever made Dirt and Worms?