I am bad at YouTube

Last night my son recommended* I check out this video on YouTube, so I fired up the laptop and showed The Chef and we laughed and laughed and laughed.

And then I, who was in charge of the laptop because it was on my lap, started clicking on a couple of other funny videos that weren't as funny. And then I said, "What should I look up now?" because I was enjoying our cozy couch time.*** 

Then I actually said, "What else do they have?" because I am so very cool.

I clicked on a few things and then watched an Adele video because we saw her on the Grammy's**** and I liked her a lot.*****

And then I threw up my hands. "I don't know what else to look at," I said.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" he asked.

I admit I'm not. Just like I get bored on the internet. And shopping. I go in, get what I want, and then leave. Want to see a funny Louis C.K. bit? Open it, watch, laugh hysterically, move on. Want to check my amazon sales? In and out baby, with an announcement of the day's number. Need a new pair of yoga pants?  Hello Target, how are you doing and gotta go!

I'm afraid of learning to like YouTube stuff, or the mighty internets for that matter. I can waste plenty of time on a good day without that kind of distraction. I have books to write! And Mary Kay sales to make! And TV to watch!****** And... and... and...

So, sorry, YouTube. I will not be your friend. I'm sure there's someone else out there who will pay attention to you.





*Ha ha ha. In some families, the recommend the newest literary work by Sir Stuffypants or seeing the latest pretentious documentary by Baron von Betterthanyou.  We recommend videos of cats playing Fruit Ninja.**

**Fruit Ninja is a really fun game!

***I'm such a GIRL sometimes. Ugh.

****Um, that Nicki Minaj girl? SO not a fan.

*****You have to remember that I don't actually listen to music. Ever. (Except when The Chef is driving.) Audiobooks in the car and on my iPod. Always. And I mean ALWAYS.

******You're thinking I should say "And papers to grade!" but you'd be wrong. I don't bring that work home.

An Ode to Mio Farro

The Chef and I went to Uno's Chicago Grill in Warwick, RI last week and had a super fun time sitting at the pizza station where we got to watch the amazing pizza cook, whose name I can't remember, sorry Pizza Guy, kick serious pie butt. (Can you tell by the length of that sentence that I've had a TON of Diet Coke and it's before 9:00 am?)

Before we ordered our main courses,* we got the farro appetizer.  I know it doesn't look like the most beautiful thing in the whole wide world, but that's not what your mouth will say. Your mouth will say,** "Holy mother of pearl and all that is good and delicious, this is effing amazing." Your mouth will then cause your brain to make your arm push the man you love from his pizza-station stool to create a diversion so you can eat all the farro while he recovers.***

I will admit that I didn't actually know what farro is, so when the chef suggested the appetizer, I shrugged and said "okay" because I am very agreeable and I was eyeing the thin crust, multigrain Mediterranean pizza we also ordered as an app.**** He could have the weird stuff.

Here's what I learned about farro because I am curious by nature. Hahahahaha no. I suspect you might be curious about what it is, so I'm here to tell you, and by tell you, I mean plagiarize Wikipedia.

"Farro is a food product consisting of the grains of certain wheat species in whole form. The exact definition is debated. It is sold dried and is prepared by cooking in water until soft, but still crunchy (many recommend first soaking over night). It may be eaten plain, though it is often used as an ingredient in dishes such as salads and soups. It is sometimes ground into flour and used to make pasta or bread.

"There is much confusion or disagreement about exactly what farro is. Emmer, spelt, and einkorn are called farro in Italy, sometimes (but not always) distinguished as farro medio, farro grande, and farro piccolo, respectively. Regional differences in what is grown locally and eaten as farro, as well as similarities between the three grains, may explain the confusion."

Do you think the people at Uno, who The Chef actually knows, would give me the recipe and then The Chef could make it for me?***** Or am I going to have to drug The Chef at night and sneak over to the local Uno's and get an order or ten? Nightly.  Well done, Uno's. I wouldn't sacrifice sleep for much, but in your farrowing case, I will make an exception.

Oh, you wily little grain, you.

*Which I will tell you about later if this post doesn't get too long.

**But your mouth will not be able to say it aloud because it will be full of delicious farro.

***I'm so sorry, honey. It was an accident.******I swear I didn't mean to push you. I blame the farro.

****When you've worked in the restaurant business, you get to say appetizer like this. If you haven't worked in the biz, then you're just being a pretentious butthead.

*****Please note that nowhere am I suggesting that I actually have anything to do with the creation of this product. That would just be SILLY! And dangerous for the beloved farro.

******This didn't actually happen in real life.*******  I am blowing the scene out of proportion for dramatic emphasis on how ay-may-ZING this stuff is.

*******Just in my head. Shhh.

Delish Dish (pan actually but no alliteration there!)

Barbecue pizza with chicken and red onions and cilantro! (It was supposed to have flat leaf parsley on it, but The Chef made a mid-cooking replacement.) That's it, below.

Hello, I am it.

We're at Uno Dué Go in the heart of Boston* and this place is fantabulous! It's like Panera only waaaay better (and not just because there's pizza here).

I swear if there were one of these anywhere near Casa Chef and Me, I would write here; I would run my Mary Kay business from here; I would even eat here. Of course all that would be contingent on them losing the Pepsi products and hauling in a fountain dispenser of the good stuff. (You know what I'm talking about!)

We also had the grilled cheese panini with tomatoey goodness (we should have gotten the tomato soup to dip it in; make sure you do this if you go there) and a prosciutto, fig, and cheddar panini, which would have been superawesomegreat if I didn't have this thing about prosciutto... it was one of the last things I had before I got really sick last October and spent a good long time in the hospital, so not so fond of that anymore... But the rest fell out of the tasty tree and hit every branch!

Of the three things, the pizza won my heart, though. Just in time for Valentine's Day!

And keeping with the Uno's theme, we went to an actual Uno's restaurant a couple of nights ago, but you'll have to wait on that. Time to go!  The Chef is done chatting with the workers and I'm going to see if I can score myself a whoopie pie (chocolate with chocolate filling)!!

XOXO

* Yeah baby. Blogging from my phone in a restaurant. Am I cool or WHAT?

Look!!!

More details soon!!!

I am the cover to Penny's book! *

*Designed by the most awesomely amazing Jame Richards!

It is so pretty and yet...

Yuck.

But the sushi makes The Chef very very very very very happy, so I order unpretty foods that taste delicious, like the chicken tempura and moo shu pork, which he also partakes in when the raw fish is gone.

I've tried to like sushi but here are my hang ups about it:

1. Um, fish. Me no likey.*
2. You're supposed to jam the whole piece of sushi in your mouth at one time. I'm a delicate flower and it's unladylike and uncomfortable to have no chewing room in your maw.
3. Chopsticks are not for the clumsy. I tend to flick things far away from my face and the table when the sticks are in use.



Not good but apparently good for you. I'll take the deep fried vegetables, please.



*The Chef and his dad decided I don't like fish because I haven't had it prepared the right way. I can tell you that RAW is not the right way.

Oh curly noodles.*

Stop being so awesome. I want to eat you all.**


Hello. I am Fusilli Bucati Corti. How are you?



*I would tell you their Official Pasta Name but I am too lazy to look it up.

**Especially when you are covered in The Chef's amazing chili.***

***Maybe if you're especially nice, I will tell you how to make it someday. I promise to tell you all the recipe parts--not just the ones that interest me.****

****This has nothing to do with curly noodles***** or chili but SUPER BIG GIGANTIC news about Hazel and her pals is coming very soon.

*****Actually, there IS a connection because Hazel's story takes place in Italy! And you know how those Italians love the noodles (not to mention the Parmesan cheese and the eggs on everything).

My dad, the foodie

Dad: What's this?
Me: Baba ganoush, baba ganoush*
Dad: What's in it? I'm not going to eat something if I don't know what it is.
Mom: Just try it.
Dad: I don't like it!
The Chef: Have you ever had it?
Dad: No, but I don't like the way it looks.

Brief staredown between all parties.

Dad tries the baba ganoush with the homemade pita chips The Chef made at home.

Dad (excited): This tastes like ham salad!

Penny, The Chef, Mom: ::facepalm::


*Singing my most-excellent baba ganoush song

Shiny Antics

The Chef and I were at BJ's Wholesale today getting a few things. Right when we walked in, a guy handed us two raffle tickets and mumbled something about the jewelry department.

I carried the red stubs in my hand like they were winning lottery tickets (foreshadowing, in case you missed it).

Then we were about halfway done shopping and people-watching, the voice of god or someone on a bad PA system or god on a bad PA system said we should all go to the jewelry kiosk so we did because we are very obedient.

We had to be present to win. Present as in shouting distance, which meant we had to listen to his spiel about this fine fine jewelry line and its lovely gold plating or spray painting or something.

Me: Can we not listen to this anymore and go?
Jewelry guy: blah blah blah
The Chef: Nope. We're going to stay for the whole thing. [He loves torturing me like this!]
Jewelry guy: ...and it's available in white gold!
Audience: Ohhhhh!
Me (whining): Please can we go?

This conversation went on for about four hours or maybe four long minutes.

Me: I don't even want to win the ugly necklace.
Other audience members: Oooh! Pretty!
Me: Harumph. Can we go?

Then the jewelry guy tossed around the raffle stubs in a plastic grocery bag and pulled out the winning number.

Our number.

We won the lovely necklace below. Look how on one side the charm is yellowish and more whitey on the other side. Classy.

Jewelry guy said it was a real CRYSTAL! The Chef asked if he could sell it in eBay and retire.

Jewelry guy was not amused.

But we were! We laughed and laughed and then bought the fixins for Manwiches.

You should get this

...because it is one of the most amazingly awesome things ever.

You're welcome.

(Mine is bright pink.) (And who would have thought anything could make Froot Loops even better? Yet this bowl does just that!)

Xoxo

Sign you know your partner is in the right profession

During an intimate* time...

STOP READING THIS IF YOU ARE ONE OF MY PARENTS!!!

and the TV is on the Science Channel in the background showing "How It's Made" and apparently out of the corner of his eye, he sees what's on the screen and this partner of yours, this partner who loves you very much and you love him very much, stops what he is doing and says, "Hey! All-Clad!"**


*I am clarifying "intimate time," per The Chef's request. Naughty bits were involved. Shut. Up.

**The creation of All-Clad pans is actually a pretty interesting process.

When worlds collide, part 2

When I "throw something together" for dinner, peanut butter is involved, as is its BFF jelly.

When The Chef "throws something together" for dinner, we have tandoori chicken, baba ganoush*, and raita.

You can be jealous now.

Maybe later I'll tell you how to make some of these things. Right now, I have to go lie down because I'm so full.


*This makes me sing "baba ganoush...baba ganoush" in an annoying melody of my own making. Even I know it's annoying and yet I can't stop.