Why I don't make monkey pancakes.

Or any other fancy shaped pancakes. Or fancy cinderella carriage shaped sandwiches. Or fancy fish and automobile shaped hard boiled eggs.

I mean, I have all the necessary equipment (thanks Williams Sonoma)  but in reality, they are such a waste of time, and not to mention, pancake batter. Plus, they never ever turn out how you imagined. 'What IS it???'  Three words I never want to hear my kids say, in reference to my food, at least. Ugh.

So, no deep life lessons here. Just thought I'd share why I don't make monkey pancakes anymore.

You're welcome, pp

When Life Gives You Quinoa, Eat Chicken Wings

Disclaimer:
This is Superbowl related, only because the chicken wings were left over from Superbowl Sunday.

I made this yummy oatmeal-quinoa-strawberry bake for breakfast this morning: Shout out to @YummySpoonfuls on Instagram, she has the best recipes for a family with young kids that is trying to eat organic and as healthy as possible, without compromising the 'yum-factor'.

Numero Uno and Monkey boy have no problem with this dish; the while house smells like an oatmeal cookie - whats not to like? But Numero Uno keeps insisting that somewhere in there, he smells rice. {I was short on time and I did not grind my quinoa. Don't be like PP, grind your quinoa). Principessa however, was not having it. Not for breakfast. Not ever.

We had ten minutes on the clock and so I made my power play as QB of the household. One minute zap in the microwave, chicken wings done.  Orange juice while putting on jacket. Banana in the car. Breakfast was served.

I'm guessing I have the Superbowl to thank for this blog post. First since January 2015. Thank you Peyton Manning. 😁

Ain't no thang, pp

The Recipe

1 cup rolled oats
1/4 cup coconut sugar
1/2 cup ground quinoa (I didn't grind mine- refer to post)
1 cup coconut milk
3 eggs
salt, nutmeg, cinnamon
blueberries - I substituted strawberries cos I was out of blueberries

Mix together and bake for 40 mins at 300 degrees. I baked for 30 minutes at 400 degrees. I know - It was almost like I was determined NOT to follow @yummyspoonfuls great recipe.  She didn't say grease the pan, but I took the initiative.

Frugal Foodie

I used to be that girl. You know, the one that ate out every other night. Just because, hey, why not? '1789' for anniversaries, 'The Charleston' for lobster bisque (yummers), 'Cafe de Paris' for crepes and duck, 'Bob Evans' for banana bread etc etc etc. And some days, I'm not even gonna lie - I wanna be that girl again.

But, I don't know if you've heard of this little here thing called, ahem, the recession? Well, yeah. These days, the whole eating out thing? Well, not so much. I mean for special occasions, yes. And some occasions, we have to defer to life and 'da billz', yo.

So, this is where we get creative. It's all about using the formal dining room, whipping out the 'good china', splitting a bottle of great tasting muscato, and splurging on a good cut of meat. Cooked at home. By a man I love. Whom, I might add, just happens to love me.

I'd rather be this girl, methinks.

And so, I daresay, would she. (principessa with daddy on his birthday @ Chez Prada)

Can I say that the wine was $9, the beef wellington prepared by my hunnybunny was priceless, and the occasion was - you guessed it - 'just because'. Mmm hmm, we're living it up, peeps. :)

Egusi, garri and bud lite with lime. Don't sleep on it, people.

Bon Apetit,pp

Tea parties

It's not just for little girls. At least not at our house, since those -little girls, that is- seem to be in short supply. Dear Hubby took us for a lovely 'spot o' tea' at Tea on the Tiber in historic Ellicott City. It's so weird how when you live so close to something, you never really bother to check it out, you know? I was so glad we did go here though. They usually cater to the 7 years and older crowd, but Hubby convinced them to make an exception for Numero Uno son. Of course he proceeded to charm all the staff and behaved quite well, considering. Who says 'soaking up culture' always has to be about museums? I am a firm believer in allowing my kids to travel as I travel and experience what I experience, as long as it is not inappropriate.

It was actually quite charming - everything from the old mansion, our own personal space in the library, fine china place settings for all three of us, the petit fours, fruit, scones and clotted cream, incredibly tiny yet yummy crustless sandwiches, oolong pomegranate tea, chai cream tea, etc etc. We totally pigged out and still could not finish all three tiers. But we came close. And at $25 a person, it was a steal.

Paris.

view of Eiffel from hotel room

Yes, we are back from the fabulous city. Food in Paris was a bust. I just had to get that off my chest. The one meal I enjoyed cost an ungodly amount of money that I just don't feel comfortable 'fessing up to spending. Ye gods! I have honestly never, ever, had food that bad. And it's not like I don't like French food. Au Contraire, I actually adore it. Well, when it's seasoned and cooked right. So I deducted mucho points from Paris, as everyone that knows me has to know that I take my 'manger', tres serious. I had never been so happy to see a McDonalds in my entire life (we came across one near the hotel) I was this close to kissing the floor. For real.

But food aside, Paris was great. And everything was just a little bit nicer than I thought it would be. Parisians are less rude and snobbish than in the yesteryear, not everyone (in fact very few) were decked out in head to toe haute couture(lol) and everyone wears jeans now. It was a laid back, nice fab vacation. Well, not really laid back for us, obviously, with two little boys - one of whom had decided he was potty trained days before the trip and so would NOT under any circumstances pee in his 'pull ups' on the plane or anywhere else for that matter (even though I begged him to at one point) to this mothers' consternation and extreme annoyance. I mean, picture me- exhausted, bleary eyed at some ungodly hour, running down the narrow plane aisle to get Numero Uno to the stinky, cramped plane loo, while he's crying hysterically that "Poo-poo's coming, Mama!". Of course we get there, and nada. Just a few miserable drops of pee. All this after almost dislocating my arm to prevent him from falling down the cavernous, stinky toilet bowl. Now rewind and picture this twenty or so more times during the same flight. Exactement. I am grateful the boy is (finally) potty trained, don't get me wrong, but dear Lord, where is a nanny when you need one? I know, I'm a bad Momma. :-)

The boys (en Paris), having a laugh at our expense

But this picture of Numero Uno staring out his hotel room window, soaking up the culture, made all his hassling almost seem worth it. Almost.

Mom of the Year, pp

My Husband, The Rockstar

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My dear, dear man and I celebrated our 5th year anniversary yesterday. It makes me almost choke up now, when I remember who and where we both were in life, then. I was working full time at a Non-profit in Baltimore, while going to law school for my L.L.M, and interning for a Judge in Baltimore. Whew. He was no less busy, struggling to learn the ropes in real estate, under a mentor who unfortunately didn't pay that well. I remember us scrambling to get to the mall to buy his ring before 2pm - which was the time we were supposed to meet our four witnesses (family and friends) in our Pastor's office, for a small, legal marriage blessing. ( The 'Big Do' would follow the following year, but that is a story for another day. )

It just so happened that this year, five years later, we fought the day before our anniversary. A "not speaking to you like ever' tiff. And so I go off to work, sure my anniversary will be just another day, you know? When my darling man calls and asks where I want to go for dinner, still icy, I politely decline. I thaw after a few minutes and concede to a movie. We will go see 'The Dark Knight'. Hardly romantic, I know, but that's the mood I am in. Movie mood. We meet up there, me wearing the same Ann Taylor linen shift I wore at our wedding 5 years ago, (it still fits. 5 years and two kids later!) and he, a bleach stained (I kid you not) T-shirt and jeans. The movie is crappy and I scarf down a whole tub of bad movie popcorn, but at least we're friends again.

We get home at 10 pm and I head to the bedroom to rest my weary bones. And viola! I wouldn't go to dinner, so this darling, darling man that I married, brings dinner to me. In our bedroom. With the lights properly dimmed. From our favorite french restaurant that we usually go back to on nearly every anniversary, 'Tersugels'. And there is wine. And Salmon with butter infused shrimp 'cous cous'. And Lobster salad. And Peach Flan. And steak. And he changed into the white shirt he wore on our wedding day too. And... I'm just happy I chose this man to go through life with. I truly, truly am. Happy anniversary darling man. You Rock!

pradalicious

Potty Mouth

Bad words. Like s--t and st--id and 'shut up'. That's the phase we're in now - 'numero uno' son and I. It is a constant battle between us, made all the more difficult because he is, afterall only repeating what Mark* says. And as long as he prefaces it with "Mama, Mark said {insert expletive here). Bad word!", I am supposed to be okay with it. I mean, he is merely acting in his capacity as an objective journalist, providing verbatim quotes, but not really saying the 'bad words', right? Wrong, buddy.

I on the other hand, am trying to find the delicate balance of letting him know those words are not acceptable in our house, and from his mouth in any house for that matter, without getting too excited, as that would invariably have the same effect as making him say them even more, just to get a reaction from me. Sigh. Being an adult and a parent can be so tiresome. Why my kid has to be be BFFs with Mr. Potty Mouth is beyond me. So, does washing one's mouth out with soap and water really work?

* name changed to protect tots identity.

Speaking of mouths, (I know, clever segue) the good folks at 'Let's Dish' are offering a free - yes free - dinner for all new (even repeat) moms from May 4th to the 11th in honor of Mothers Day. I love free stuff and I love 'Let's Dish'! My hubby and I went to the Columbia location last year and had a blast. Plus we came away with meals for weeks and weeks. Delish and cost effective, which always works for me... (P>S. Not sure if they are only based in Maryland, but you could check the website and/or facebook page to find out.)

toodles, PP

Pots 'n' Pans

Your pots say a lot about you, just like a man's shoes, I think. For the longest time, my pot collection was sparse and shameful, consisting only of a few tiny pots that I had managed to hold onto during my 'spinster years', when all I needed to 'cook' was 'Top Ramen' or some other similarly uncomplicated fare. Over the years, I reluctantly added a crock pot, couple of pressure cookers and a grown up set of pots to the mix, but time and circumstance happened to them, so there I was, back at square one, using coverless pots and 'pressureless' pressure cookers. I guess that means that I am 'incomplete and lacking steam maybe?' At least as far as the 'pot analysis' thingy goes.

But alas, not anymore. A 'sister friend' sent me a gorgeous set of pots from the U.K, where she resides. Drastic I know, but she needed to get a point across. So shiny and new in their cream colored exterior and non stick interior, cast iron glory. So fabulous... so me! She says she hopes this will unleash my inner domestic goddess. Well, hope springs eternal, as they say. I love you Inybooboo - but those pots are WAY too pretty to cook in. Maybe on your next visit???:)

smooches, the newly domesticated pp (Ha!)

Starvation

A picture is worth a thousand words. I have two for ya - diet and deprivation. 'That' was actually my lunch a couple of days ago, as a result of spiraling out of control due to comments two ladies in church nonetheless, made about my expanding, um, assets. One of the ladies told me that I was putting on weight. I was incredulous. I just had a baby barely three months ago! I mean fine, I did gain more than I would have liked and the pounds are not exactly falling off, but three months is really not a lot of time, people! So the question is was she refering to my gaining weight from before I was pregnant? Well, duh. Last time I checked that was the deal. But you know how you never have the really smart comebacks until you've left the scene. Well there you go. So instead, I blog. And starve myself, eating 'barbie doll portions' of 'bad for you human food'. Like Ledo's pizza and chicken wings, with a carrot and celery to make it healthy. You know how we do.

Okay, Rant over and time for a review of a lip gloss that looks great, and is super affordable. Sally Hansen Diamond Slicks, available at your local drug store for less than six bucks. It goes on so smooth, is not sticky at all and smells/tastes great, in the best colors too! Me likey. Go get yours.

Cooking Horror Show

The horror in the picture is called a rosti nest. Crafted with love from grated boiled potatoes and carrots with an egg in the middle, it was approached with fear and treated with reverence by all. including my normally fearless two year old. I said 'crafted' because it looks like an art project gone wrong. According to my husband "it glows in the dark." Number one son actually addressed it from a distance, in whispers. Hysterically funny, even if I did spend quite some time slaving over the nest. The name should have been my first clue - what about 'rosti nests' screams "yum?". My point exactly. But I do love my baby and toddler cookbook, the meals are usually delish and healthy and great for both kids and adults ( cause who has time in the real world to make separate meals for husbands and kids?). But the rostis? Admittedly, a doozie. Even I, didn't get it. And I will usually eat my messes. I mean cooking. I'm making shish kebabs tonight as a peace offering, so it's okay to be home for dinner, dear. Promise.