I think I was roofied

You all remember my Aunt Sara, right? You know, the one that left me this voicemail last year? I thought she had learned her lesson about leaving me incriminating messages, so you can imagine my surprise when out of the blue this showed up on my phone:

To be clear, Henry hadn’t told me ANYTHING, so I had no freaking idea what she was going on about. Knowing her, I was able to surmise that “I was roofied” meant “I had a killer hangover” and “I can take nourishment” meant “I can drink wine again.” There is something to learn from this though: if you ever find yourself with a hangover at an age when you really should know better – just say your daughter’s friend roofied you. That will sound MUCH better.

I texted my cousin Polly (Sara’s daughter) and basically said “FYI – your mother is leaving me weird voicemails about getting roofied,” and she was like, “yeah, she does that sometimes.” Then she sent me this photo, which apparently represents how Sara spent the entire day after her unfortunate incident.

I’m assuming that Sara thought leaving me a voicemail would help with the damage control to her reputation in case I decided to write a post about this incident. She obviously hasn’t figured out how blogs work.

Aunt Sara – I love you. Lots. *hugs*

A Hunger Games “Tribute”


Please note: if you haven’t read “Hunger Games” this post is going to make absolutely no sense and you should probably just come back later. Or you should get your ass over to the bookstore because OH MY GOD WHY HAVEN’T YOU READ THIS BOOK YET??

Since the movie will finally be released today my frenzy for anything Hunger Games has reached it’s peak. This is bunch of stuff I found while obsessively searching the internet.

First, some awesome E-cards:

Honestly, when I first heard these nail polishes were being made I was like “that is some dumb bullshit,” and then I saw the colors and was all “ooooo pretty! I want ALL OF THEM.”

There are a lot of T-shirts out there by now, but these are two that I would actually consider wearing.


You guys have to check out Entertainment Weekly’s gallery of Hunger Games “ImPosters”. It pokes fun at what the movie could have been like if other directors had been at the helm. The one below is Hunger Games as Nancy Meyers would have seen it:

PS – I’m going to see this on Saturday. I will be a twitchy ball of excitement until then.

PSS – If you look closely in the credits of the movie, my name should be in there! (as production secretary – Asheville office) (true fact).

Make Your Own Tamales

Until I moved to California I had never actually eaten a tamale. Now, I am hopelessly addicted, but I’m getting a little tired of eating the usual chile & cheese that they have at the farmers market, which is why taking a tamale class at Tarasco’s sounded like such an awesome idea. You can check out my full review on the class over at Johnny Jet.com, but here’s a tutorial if you want to give it a try at home. (forgive the terrible Iphone photos, but I am super self-conscious about lugging a big camera around with me in public. I’m afraid everyone will think I’m some wannabe-blogger. As if, right?)

You should be able to find masa at your local grocery store, and then mix with water and/or broth according to the package directions and let sit 24hrs. Yes, 24 hours. If you’re reading this right now and were hoping to eat tamales for dinner tonight, I’m really sorry.

BTW – best part about making tamales at home? You can flavor the masa with all sorts of spices. We used a mix of garlic powder, chili powder and cumin. Holy shitakes, it is tasty.

Lay out a corn husk (you can also find these at most local grocery stores now), with the “bumpier” side facing up. (feel the ridges of the husk, you’ll notice that one is a little “smoother”). Spread a very thin layer of masa over the entire husk, leaving a 1/4 inch border around the edges.

Sprinkle some of your toppings in a little row down the center of the tamale. I have some veggies and cheese here, but go with meat if you’re into that kind of thing.

Now bring the edges of the tamale up to meet each other. With the edges pinched together, push all of the masa & filling down toward the bottom so it forms a tight little tube. Then open the corn husk again. Continue Reading →

Fudge Brownies with White Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting

Ohh. Emm. Gee. As I write this sentence,  I am currently winning my office’s NCAA bracket pool. And I know NOTHING about basketball. Except that UNC Chapel Hill is the BEST, am I right?

What? You’re a Duke fan? GET OF MY INTERNET.

(not really – please stay!)

(Go UNC!)

Winning something when you’re the underdog is so much more satisfying than when everyone expects it. It’s like when you go to a five-star restaurant and are a little underwhelmed by the satisfying plate in front of you. I mean, yeah, this tastes good but I just paid you $100 for a piece of fish and glass of wine so it should be damn amazing. But if you go to a hole-in-the-wall and fork over $5 for some sandwich that blows your mind you will rave about that place like you found the Leprechaun’s pot of gold in the bathroom.

BTW – you like my St. Patrick’s day tie-in?? You better – that’s all I got…

Sorry…it’s totally lame and I apologize. You all deserve better. Please go here or here for proper St. Patrick’s day recognition.

Let’s just say that these are the underdog in brownies. Most of you will probably have these ingredients on hand – there’s no call for special flours or almond extract or high quality dark chocolate chips.  There’s also almost zero technical knowledge required – if you can melt chocolate and stir stuff in a bowl you’ll do just fine. And yet, despite their humble means they have ruined me on brownies forever. They are, in a word, perfection. Moist, but not gooey. Chewy sides without being dry. Chocolatey without being super rich.

Perfect. Brownies.

Oh yeah, and then I added some white chocolate cream cheese frosting. That. Happened.

Continue Reading →

Willy the Lamp

Now that I’m a grown and semi-mature adult, I’m starting to realize what a strange child I was. I’m writing down some of these memories mainly so that my children will know it runs in the family.

When I was 8 my family moved into a house that we ended up remodeling from top to bottom. When it came time to do my room, one of the first “new” things that was installed was a ceiling lamp. Here’s the thing – as an eight year old witnessing my room being transformed before my eyes, I became abnormally attached to everything that was installed. Like, when the crummy floors were covered in beautiful new carpet, it was like “hey, that’s MY new purple carpet, put in there just for ME. It’s like me and the carpet were made for each other”

(Okay, it’s also totally possible that I was just a weird kid and needed more friends and it had nothing to do with my impressionable age. We’re not going to discuss my attachments to inanimate objects at age 27.)

But at any rate, my parents installed this ceiling fan in my room, and I was all like “hey, that ceiling fan is just for ME, it’s like the fan is my friend or something.”

And then my parents decided they didn’t like my ceiling fan and wanted to change it out.  I tried to play it cool and was all like “no, that’s okay, I like the fan that’s there. Please don’t replace it.” But they were super insistent, and kept trying to get me to change my mind, and I was totally not going to betray my fan like that, thankyouverymuch. So then my mom decided to play dirty.

Mom: “Are you friends with the fan or something? Are you going to be sad it’s gone?”

Me, as defensively as possible: “NO! Of course not!”

Obviously I did not play my hand right, because she totally caught on to the fact that I was, in fact, a bit attached to the ceiling fan. Most parents might have taken this moment to not further torture their obviously emotionally strange daughter, but mine saw this as an opportunity.

Mom: “Does it have a name? You know what? We should call it Willy.”

Henry (in the voice of Willy): “Save me Caroline, save me! Don’t let them take me away!”

Me: Fine! Just take the lamp out! I don’t care AT ALL!

So they took the lamp out, and I did care. Especially when my stepfather, Henry, would casually remark in my presence that Willy must be really sad, sitting a dumpster and knowing that I betrayed him.

And guys – I felt really bad. For the lamp. And just to be spiteful I looked that new lamp in the eye(??) and made sure it knew that I would NOT be naming it and we were NOT going to have any kind of attachment here. But of course I didn’t say this out loud because lamps can’t speak and they communicate through telepathy. Duh.

And even now when I go home to visit, the old/new lamp will sometimes start to rattle and annoy me and I think “Willy would never have made this obnoxious sound while I’m trying to sleep.”

So yeah. My abilities to hold a grudge against inanimate objects are unparalleled. At least I win at something.


Say it with me now: en-FREE-hoe-lah-dahs.

I’m not gonna lie, this recipe has been on my list for a while and I really dragged my feet to make it. Then I really dragged my feet even more to post it. Not because these aren’t delicious – nothing could be farther from the truth. But I’m into simple and easy recipes and this is neither of those things.

The first time I tried to make these, I failed. Miserably. The bean sauce was too thick, causing half of the tortillas to tear. The few that survived long enough to make it to the pan tore in half when I folded them because I hadn’t let them soak long enough, and so I stood in my kitchen doing everything in my power not to take a pan of bean/tortilla/cheese mess and throw it into the kitchen wall. And then we went and got In-N-Out for dinner.

This time, I was successful.


After I ruined about half of the tortillas I bought.

I just feel like I have to warn you – if you are a kitchen clutz like me, this recipe is gonna be a struggle, but it CAN be done. For the safety of your kitchen wall, you might want to have extra ingredients on hand…and a back-up dinner plan.

Okay, let’s do this:

Continue Reading →