The Official Blog of Steff Deschenes

Almanac of Eats: Week 4 (Whiskey and a Mouthgasm)

2012-01-30T09:12:00.001-05:00

In my new project, Almanac of Eats, I'm attempting to eat the National Food Holiday every day for a year.

This is a recap of the fourth week where I ate:
Pie
Peanut Butter
Irish Coffee
Peanut Brittle
Chocolate Cake
Blueberry Pancakes
and Corn Chip

I had my official second "mouthgasm" with the Irish Coffee - if you like whiskey and espresso, you should REALLY make it! Also, I had never had peanut brittle before this week and I have to say it was delicious!

I'd love if you followed along and spread the word about this new endeavor. You can find Almanac of Eats on Twitter and Facebook!

Almanac of Eats: Week 3 (Pirate Drinks and Emo Rum)

2012-01-23T09:00:00.003-05:00

In my new project, Almanac of Eats, I'm attempting to eat the National Food Holiday every day for a year.

This is a recap of the third week where I ate:
Hot Tea (thanks to Good Earth for that!)
Hot Buttered Rum
Gourmet Coffee
Popcorn
Cheese
Granola Bars
and Southern Food

It was a real "beverage-heavy" kind of week, but the cashew cheeze that I made for Friday's "National Cheese Lover's Day" was absolutely stunning! No, really - you gotta try it!

I'd love if you followed along and spread the word about this new endeavor. You can find Almanac of Eats on Twitter and Facebook!

Fact is Better: Scammed.

2012-01-20T13:25:00.002-05:00

The Photographer, bless him, is a very, very trusting soul and he see's the good in everyone. I think it's an admirable trait, because I'm a girl who trusts in few and believes people are genuinely awful creatures (until proven otherwise that is: if an elderly woman holds open a door for me, she's instantly off my "People Suck" List and onto my "Maybe There's Faith in Humanity After All" List).

I was given permission to relay this story - please think tenderly of The Photographer when you read it as he has beaten himself up enough over it.

Oh, and if you feel like harassing the phone number provided ((323) 496-0248) . . . I highly encourage it.

(It's true: sometimes I'm on that "People Suck" List).

The Photographer had a $100 gift card to Target that he wanted to try and sell on Craigslist for cold hard cash. So he put on the site for $90. He got two offers: the first guy offered him $60. So The Photographer counter-offered with $75 (which seems reasonable when you're offering a $90 gift card, someone wants it for thirty bucks cheaper, so you offer it in the middle. That makes sense right?).

This guy then counter-offered the counter-offer with $55.

*cough* Douche. *cough*

The Photographer deleted his email.

The second offer came from an older gentleman who called (did I mention his number is (323) 496-0248?) The Photographer directly and told him how interested he was. He explained that he wouldn't be out of work until late, and that he was going to have his daughter pick up the gift ard. The Photographer told him the general area he lived in, but forget to ask where this guy lived - it also didn't register that the guy's phone number was an out of state one. The man explained that his daughter would be out of work by 3:30 and would call The Photographer to coordinate a meeting time and place.

At 3pm, the guy texts The Photographer.

(323) 496-0248: "I suddenly don't trust you and I want you to give me the number on the card so that I can call Target to make sure there's actually $100 on it as promised. I'm not gonna send my daughter with cash to some place I don't know."

The Photographer: "I completely understand. But, I'm not gonna give you the number over the phone, 'cause I'm pretty sure you're just gonna scam me and take the money."

(323) 496-0248: "No, listen, I'm at work. We’ll do a conference call. I'll call Target, and then you can punch in the number so I won't know what it is, but I'll be able to hear the balance of it."

So they did. The guy seemed satisfied and told The Photographer he was going to send his daughter to get it after all.

Hours and hours (and hours) later nothing happens. The Photographer, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, called Target to check the balance of the card.

It was: $0.

Somehow, the guy scammed him in the end.

The Photographer called Target and explained what had happened. The customer service lady felt really bad. She told him that the card had been used in Virginia, and there was nothing they could do to help him because he basically handed someone cash. It was his own fault for doing so. Unsatisfied, The Photographer asked to speak to someone else. So, he got the head of the gift card department. He repeated that the card had been used in Virginia - but also told him which register it was, the transaction number, and the time it had all taken place.

The Photographer then called the store in Virginia and was transferred to the manager. The Manager knew what was going on - apparently this scam has been happening a lot. They're currently compiling a list of information to catch the people doing it. He's going to have law enforcement call The Photographer in a week to discuss the situation. Hopefully they'll be able to track the guy down.

True story.

And further proof that fact can really suck (more than fiction) sometimes.

Almanac of Eats: Week 2 (Kim Kardashian and Ice Cream)

2012-01-16T08:10:00.002-05:00

In my new project, Almanac of Eats, I'm attempting to eat the National Food Holiday every day for a year.

This is a recap of the second week where I ate:
Apricots
Bittersweet Chocolate
A Hot Toddy
Marzipan
Peach Melba
Hot Pastrami Sandwich
and Strawberry Ice Cream

Overall, it was a disappointing week for me as a foodie, except for the Hot Pastrami Sandwich - my first official mouthgasm of 2012 (who would've thought a veghead would be so deliriously happy over a mock pastrami sandwich?)!

I'd love if you followed along and spread the word about this new endeavor. You can find Almanac of Eats on Twitter and Facebook!

Almanac of Eats: Week 1 (Hangover Cure and Sonic the Hedgehog Food)

2012-01-09T15:53:00.005-05:00

In my new project, Almanac of Eats, I'm attempting to eat the National Food Holiday every day for a year.

This is a recap of the first week where I ate:
Blood Mary's
Cream Puffs
Chocolate Covered Cherries
Spaghetti
Whipped Cream
Beans
Tempura
and Sticky Toffee Pudding

It was an EXCELLENT week to be a foodie!

I'd love if you followed along and spread the word about this new endeavor. You can find Almanac of Eats on Twitter and Facebook!

Maybe It's Me: Death/Bully's, or, The Year of Patience and Tribulations

2012-01-04T13:56:00.000-05:00

I'm one of those people who subscribes to the belief that a new year means a new start; it means a world of endless possibilities. If we choose to, we get to leave behind everything and anything we want as we step unencumbered into a yet-to-be-written period of our life. It's a clean slate for anyone who allows it to be.

Most importantly: it's the rebirth of hope.

And I know that one doesn't have to wait until New Year's to make a positive, life-affirming change, or to allow themselves to "start over again" - they could do it on their birthday, after a traumatic event, after a health scare, for no reason at all on a random Tuesday morning - but there's a peaceful feeling of a solidarity knowing the entire world has come together for this one day of letting go what was, in the faithful anticipation of the good we all wish to do, we all wish for each other, we all wish to come.

Some people make resolutions: many I think are done half-heartedly or with the foolish expectation of instant gratification. Unfortunately, that only sets ourselves up for disappointment and what we perceive as failure, because no: we can't have something, change something, make something now. Right now. In this very moment. It takes time. Everything takes time. Perhaps this is why so many people give-up on these resolutions within weeks.

Some, however? Some really do make commendable, dedicated, and sincere efforts to be and create the change they want to see and feel from themselves and for the world they live in.

And then there are those people who just let their old afflictions continue to burden them, continue to prevent them from living the best life they can for themselves.

I don't know about you, but I'm not one of those people who likes to carry my old baggage into the New Year. The damages that were done to me throughout the previous twelve months don't need to haunt me beyond December 31st. The only way I know how to let go and move forward is by writing it all out. Seeing those things that I endured that hurt (me) the most and tarnished my year written out forces me to have to recognize that they happened. But by facing them, by accepting them, it gives me a strange sense of closure; it reminds me that where I came from is not where I'm going; and, it encourages me to keep on keepin' on - because once you slay one dragon, you slay another.

That's my yearly resolution to myself.

This past year I realized that bully's happen through all walks of life. They don't ever just go away, no matter how old you get. And they attack in all manner of ways . . .

People who I thought were friends turned out to be jealous, petty, destructive individuals who would prefer it if people were miserable like them, trapped in their immaturity and selfishness. They went to great liberties to attempt to ruin my character, but those who knew me knew better.

I was taken advantage of by a tattoo artist who abused my trust and time (the most valuable thing there is), lied to me, and caused me a great deal of stress and money. He nearly ruined the skin on my arm with the shoddy work he did. I am thankful to have had the common sense to walk away when I did, and to have found an incredible new, highly recommended and acclaimed artist who I have no qualms about and am thoroughly excited to have crossed-paths with (and work with again in the near future!).

And the biggest slap in the face all year: I was blatantly lied to, misled, and used by a company that I was entirely devoted to and had given everything up for. I was promised and guaranteed for nearly a year before even being hired that I would grow with them; supposedly they were grooming me to be the "Vice President of Marketing." After stealing what I knew about the business (which was far more than the CEO of the company knew - his resume contained little more than the position of "hot dog vendor" for the local baseball team prior to his position at this company), I was pigeon-holed in a position I was overqualified for. And then I was literally ignored for months on end by the other employees who pretended I didn't exist (no, really). They took credit for all the things I did, and degraded me every chance they could get. I realized quickly that the young CEO and the investors were greedy, nepotistic, judgemental, two-faced, immoral, unethical, double-standard loving narcissits. A position was created exactly like the one I had previously held at an exponentially bigger company, but I wasn't allowed to interview for it, neither was I even being considered for it. They didn't think my "skill set" was suited for it. Instead, they hired someone with no experience, qualifications, or education about the business at all. They eliminated my position entirely, but offered me a new part-time job as a cashier. I would not stand for that abuse, so I left. I have never in my life felt so disgusted or betrayed by a company or by another young professional. I will never support them.

Bully's are everywhere.

Death was also a prevalent theme this year. So much so that I became preoccupied with the thought of it, I had dreams about dying, and I became irrationally convinced that the people around me were going to die at any given minute. Of course, in reality they will at some point. Death is inevitable. But for the first time in my life I really, really began thinking about it, and the ramifications of it in those loved one's lives who survive them . . .

An ex-boyfriend of mine died unexpectedly from an overdose of wrongly prescribed medicine. Something that could happen to anyone at any time(I became incredibly paranoid about my own medications, so much so that when I received a bottle of pills that had a different doctor's name than my own on it, a different Rx number, while the pills looked entirely different I refused to take them until I had spoken face-to-face with the pharmicist. In the end, everything had an explanation: my own G.P. had been out the day they had been requested, and the pharmacy was getting their drugs from a different manufactuer.). But no one can prepare you for a loss quite like that. He would be my last ex-boyfriend, and things had ended very abruptly and without real closure. I was in total shock for days - months, even . . . maybe I still am - as I processed what had happened. And I started having questions I never had before: what would happen with his cell phone? Would someone call and terminate his contract? Would there be a fee? And his car? What if he still had payments on it? What about his stuff? Would his parents go to his apartment and throw things away, keeping what they thought was important? How would they know why their son kept certain trinkets, and would they keep them if they didn't know the story?

So many questions.

And then not even two months later, I was driving down the highway going 69mph (only four miles over the speed limit) and I hit a deer. As my car spun out of control, crashing against the guardrail, the only thought I had was: "I didn't think it was time, God, but if this is what you want - help everyone I know to be okay with it." My car came to a stop, the entire front end of it torn off. And I walked away unscathed. The state trooper said it was an unavoidable accident and that I was lucky to be alive. Both the state trooper and the tow truck driver - who picked up my car in pieces - used the word "totaled" to describe the remains of my vehicle. And usually they're 99% accurate when they make that statement.

But I fell in that 1%, and despite being told by everyone (including my own insurance agent) that I should start looking for a new car, in the end the claims adjuster decided my car was only "mostly totaled" and not "totally totaled." Which resulted in the death of my bank account as I had to spend an exorbitant amount of money to get the car fixed. This is something I'm still trying to come back from, but am struggling to do so.

So, that was my year: death and bully's.

I have never practiced so much patience as I endured so many tribulations as I did this year.

But last minute miracles did happen to and for those I love and hold close to my heart. And when good things like that happen to them, however big or small, it’s not only encouraging, but it reminds me that good things happen to everyone - in some way, shape, or form - eventually. Big prayers were answered and it was a huge sigh of relief for all of us involved. In a way, it almost seemed as though "their time had come" and they were finally being rewarded for the hardships they had endured over the course of their days, their years.

In an effort to uphold my families privacy and to maintain an air of mystery (because every good story needs a little bit of that), I won't go into too many details. But I will say this: one loved one finally stepped out of his own way, allowing himself the opportunity to succeed and be happy chasing a dream; one loved one's mind, heart, and soul is at ease as a heavy weight has been lifted off her shoulders; and, the life of one loved one was saved from both herself and from the darkness she had found herself in.

I'll take that. I'll take all of that. Because their victories are my victories. When they thrive, it helps me to keep on keepin’ on too: for them and because of them. So does the fact that I survived a year of hardships, which I've faced here and can now move on from.

Our triumphs (mine in the face of adversity) have restored my faith and renewed my hope.

And maybe it’s me, but that’s all the resolution I need going into this New Year.

BIG "365/730 Project" NEWS!

2011-12-31T23:59:00.001-05:00

Starting tomorrow, January 1st, I'll be launching a NEW site called Almanac of Eats (you can see a sneak peek of it now!), and it will be replacing all 365/730 Project food posts here at my personal website.

An "almanac" is a reference guide of useful or interesting information. And what's more useful or interesting than food?! So, for one year, I'll:

1. Attempt to eat whatever the National Food Holiday is every day for a year (I can't do "Roast Suckling Pig Day," obviously, so I'll revert to whatever the National Food of the Month is) while...
2. Discovering and posting new recipes in both blog and vlog format, and...
3. I'll be reviewing restaurants and products along the way!

SteffDeschenes.com will continue to feature my writings (including "Maybe It's Me" and "Fact is Better," both of which will be stepped-up to be more frequent and involve YOU more), and will also post an update once a week about all the happenings at Almanac of Eats.

I think that this will be a really fun endeavor, and I hope that'll you want to participate and follow-along both blogs throughout the year!

Hugs,
Steff

730 Project: 2011 Dinner Party with Steff Deschenes

2011-12-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

Soundtrack 2011: The Year of Patience and Tribulations

2011-12-31T17:12:00.001-05:00

An annual end of year tradition for me is to create a playlist, or soundtrack if you will, describing my life over the course of the past year using songs I discovered within that timeframe.

Here is the Soundtrack to 2011 . . .
(download some of these - this might be my finest compilation yet!

Opening Credits – “Helena Beat” by Foster the People
Waking Up – “Black and Blue” by Miike Snow
Average Day – “L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N.” by Noah and the Whale
Flirting – “Crave You” by Flight Facilities ft. Giselle
First Date – “Something Good Can Work” by Two Door Cinema Club
Falling in Love – “Cinema” by Benny Benassi
Love Scene – “Holocene” by Bon Iver
Fight Scene – “Next Girl” by The Black Keys
Breaking Up – “Bad Day” by Darwin Deez
Getting Back Together – “Everything Goes My Way” by Metronomy
Secret Love –“Will Do” by TV on the Radio
Faith Restored – “Listen to ‘Starry Night’” by Chris August
Life’s Okay – “It’s Not Easy Being Green” by Andrew Bird
Mental Breakdown – “Jump into the Fog” by The Wombats
Driving – “Blow” by Ke$ha
Learning a Lesson – “If I Die Young” by The Band Perry
Deep Thought – “Good Friends, Bad Habits.” by Owen
Flashback – “Helplessness Blues” by Fleet Foxes
Partying in the U.S. – “Shots” by LMFAO

Partying in Europe – “Loca People” by Sak Noel
Happy Dance - “Moves Like Jagger” byMaroon 5

Regretting – “Cheerleader” by St. Vincent
Long Night Alone – “Pleasure Pruncple” by Sufjan Steven
Death Scene – “Hyperballad” by Bjork
Closing Credits – “Armchairs” by Andrew Bird

730 Project - December 31st

2011-12-31T01:29:00.001-05:00

We'll take a cup o' kindness yet.

730 Project - 12.31.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Chinese food from Wei-Li, including: veggie lo mein, spring rolls, and (level two) "Amazing Bean Curd.

Another year has gone by and the people I love the most are alive, and as happy and healthy as they can be.

As for me, I'm excited to part ways with 2011. It was a tough year: a year of tribulations and practicing/learning incredible amounts of patience.

I am thrilled to have been able to document my life one more time, and appreciate all the love and support I received throughout.

From my family to yours . . . I pray that 2012 is the kinder and more rewarding year I think we all deserve.

With gratitude,
Steff

730 Project - December 30th

2011-12-30T13:57:00.000-05:00

Giant Hand is Giant

730 Project - 12.30.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Spicy Thai coconut soup with tofu, endive, and squash.

I have decided a few things here in the last few hours of 2010:
- Looking back, this year really sucked.
- The only things I crave lately are Chinese food and french fries.
- I refuse to accept that Christmas is over, and may just keep my decorations up for the rest of the year.

What about you - any last minute revelations?

Click.

730 Project - December 29th

2011-12-30T12:17:00.000-05:00

Je Suis Fatigue

730 Project - 12.29.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Tacos.

If everything you're eating is the same-ish bland color, you're doing something wrong.

What you eat should be naturally vibrant. Like tonight's tacos. Have you looked at these beauts yet? No, seriously: have you really LOOKED at them?

Here, let your eyes feast upon this refreshing arrangement of delectable delights:

Now go out into the world and create, eat, and be merry!

(Someone's punch-drunk with fatigue.)

Click.

730 Project - December 28th

2011-12-30T11:16:00.002-05:00

"Tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff!"

730 Project - 12.28.11. Steff. At home. Nut spread on sun-dried tomato bread and a side of mashed potatoes.

This was far too much food for me.

I feel a bit like Pooh Bear:

(My gut is so swollen, I don't think I can see my feet, either.)
((And I definitely do not look as joyous as he does about being a fatty.)

Click.

730 Project - December 27th

2011-12-28T15:39:00.001-05:00

When the Body Wins, the Soul is Sad

730 Project - 12.27.11. Steff. At home. Beet salad with goat cheese and maple-candied walnuts.

This salad is delicious.

And easy to make!
(Take some arugula, or endive, or lettuce and chop it up into bite-sized pieces. Top with diced cold beets [that you roasted and peeled prior], crumbled goat cheese, and chopped/crushed candied maple walnuts [my grocery store carries them, I'm sure yours does, too]. In a side bowl whisk together some olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a splash of lemon juice. Whisk. Pour. Eat. Love.)

But it's not what I wanted tonight.

What I wanted rhymes with cheese pizza and french fries.

So instead I had this very appetizing salad, because it's what was in my house.

*snarl*

*pout*

*eat*

Click.

730 Project - December 26th

2011-12-28T15:32:00.000-05:00

The Deschenes Girls Say Goodbye to 2011

730 Project - 12.26.11. Steff and Cari. At home. Homemade guacamole, Sisters Salsa, and tortilla chips.

Before my sister went back home, there were some important things she needed to do with me. Like:

- Eat a tub full of guacamole and salsa out of a vintage record chip bowl while watching The Biggest Loser (because the irony makes it - the show, the food, the act of eating, just everything - ten times more awesome).
- Increase her "bunny wrangling" level (they're both getting much more gentle in their own age, and it seems they can play nice now).
- Increase her "lock pick skill" level (seriously, if my life was an RPG game, I would want her in my party).
- Discuss important things like the internet, boys, and . . . nope, that's it.

Click.

730 Project - December 25th

2011-12-27T12:27:00.000-05:00

Christmas Day

730 Project - 12.25.11. Steff. At home. Waffles topped with Nutella and sliced strawberries.

My go-to Christmastime blog entry:
"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

That’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown."

(My family and I need a little privacy, too. So on this holiest of days, you can enjoy a picture of me eating nutella with bright red strawberries. That's festive enough, right?)

Click.

730 Project - December 24th

2011-12-27T12:21:00.000-05:00

We Loved it too Much

730 Project - 12.24.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Homemade "Thanksgiving Pizza" (beer dough topped with Daiya cheese, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce) with a side of extra crispy crinkle cut fries and Vegenaise for dipping.

I'm one of those people who stops counting calories and generally giving a hoot about what they eat starting at Thanksgiving and ending around the first week of January. I just don't see the point: it's the time of year that you see family you don't see (and usually eat with them), go to parties (and usually eat at them), and get to gorge yourself on treats that only get made once a year. Thus, I don't try to restrict myself or enforce any weird dietary rules the last month (or so) of the year.

Besides: that's what winter is for! To become a polar bear (get fat, stop shaving, sleep loads - that's my goal for the next few months . . . you?).

I wanted to gastronomically spoil The Photographer the few days he was spending at my house for our little Christmas break, and I knew this semi-decadent pizza would (since it's basically carb on top of carb on top of starch on top of carb). He loved it. I loved it. We loved it.

Actually, we loved it a little too much and overindulged.

Merry Christmas, my foodie friends!

Click.

730 Project - December 23rd

2011-12-27T12:04:00.001-05:00

The Night's Spent At Home

730 Project - 12.23.11. Steff, Cari, and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Potato skins with f'acon, Daiya, Vegenaise, and green onions with a side of warm artichoke dip and blue corn tortilla chips.

There will come a point in your life - if you haven't already reached it - that the best night's of your life will be the one's spent at home, with good food, great people, and incredible conversation.

Tonight was one of those nights.

I hunkered down on my living room floor and spent hours eating delicious, vegan food crafted with an enormous amount of love, while talking about every and anything with two of the love's of my life. It was simple. It was beautiful. And it was just what I needed.

For eats:
- Artichoke dip and blue corn tortilla chips
- Potato skins (with Daiya, Tofurky's "Smoky Maple Bacon Marinated Tempeh", Vegenaise, and a tremendous amount of green onions)
- Chocolate Candy Cane Cake (layers of chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, and candy cane dust)

The night couldn't have been more perfect.

Here's wishing time with your loved ones is just as sweet, fulfilling, and memorable.

Click.

730 Project - December 22nd

2011-12-26T12:12:00.002-05:00

A New Favorite Food

730 Project - 12.22.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Boca chic'n patty topped with Daiya cheese on a bed of spinach and sundried tomato pasta with Cabernet tomato sauce, and a side of wine glazed Brussel sprouts.

I have no problem admitting that tonight, I was the pig. The good thing about our relationship is neither one of us is more a fatty than the other. We take turns.

I didn't expect to be, but I tried this new recipe - wine glazed Brussels sprouts - and they instantly became one of my new favorite foods ever. I polished my plate off in record time and then began eyeing The Photographers. Either he didn't like them or was afraid for his life, but he sacrificed his plate to me to gobble up, too.

And then I finished off his pasta.

My belly is swollen (but it's cool, because being a fatty doesn't count this time of year anyway).

Should you feel so inclined (and aren't geographically around me), that wine glazed Brussels sprouts recipe from VegKitchen.com is:

Ingedients
2 pounds Brussels sprouts
1/2 cup dry red wine
3 tablespoons agave nectar or maple syrup
1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce or tamari
1 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch

Directions
(PLEASE NOTE: I've modified this recipe, because the original directions just didn't work in my opinion):
- Trim the stems from the Brussels sprouts.
- In a small bowl, combine the wine, agave nectar, and soy sauce and stir together. Transfer to a 3-quart saucepan along with 1/4 cup water and the Brussels sprouts. Stir together, then cook, covered, at a gentle simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Uncover and cook, stirring occasionally, for another 5 minutes (you don't want to overcook these little nuggets of heaven, but if you need more time, than okay. This isn't set in concrete).
- Dissolve the cornstarch in a small amount of water (you may need TWICE as much of this stuff than you think you will - you want a really thick, purple-hazed glaze). Stir into the saucepan quickly, then cook for another 5 minutes. Remove from heat and transfer to a covered casserole dish to serve (or just east right out of the pan, you piglet mcgee).

Yields: 8 (that's a lie: this might yield two, MAX).

Make. Eat. Love. Oink.

Click.

Fact is Better: Christmas Music Through the Years

2011-12-23T11:37:00.005-05:00

Every Christmas season it seems I get obsessed with a particular holiday-themed song or album. I thought it was time to share these delicious festive audible treats with you.

Don't judge me.

1997: "Christmas Time" - Hanson
1998: "Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays" - N*Sync
1999: "Christmas Song" - Dave Matthews
2000: "Here We Come A-Wassailing - A Putamayo World Christmas
2001: "Simply Having A Wonderful Christmastime" - Paul McCartney
2002: "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" - The Peanuts (Vince Guaraldi Trio)
2003: “All I Want for Christmas” – Mariah Carey
(but really the Love Actually version)
2004: "Sing Noel" - Newsong /"Light a Candle" - Avalon
2005: "Thankful Heart" - The Muppets Christmas Carol
("One More Sleep 'Til Christmas," too)
2006: "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" - James Taylor
2007: “Last Christmas” - WHAM
2008: "I heard the bells on Christmas Day" - Casting Crown
2009: "Sister Winter" - Sufjan Stevens
2010: “Christmas Lights” – Coldplay
2011: “Merry Christmas, Here’s to Many More” – Relient K

While we're at it, let's pay homage to those songs I was obsessed with as a child:

"The Maine Christmas Song" - Unknown Artist/Every 4th Grade class in the State
"Round and Round the Christmas Tree" - Bing Crosby
"Home for the Holidays" - Perry Como
"12 Days of Christmas" - The Muppets and John Denver
"Feliz Navidad" -José Feliciano
"Walking in a Winter Wonderland" - Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers

Let's finish this yuletide musical trip down memory lane with a few of the songs that I have come to LOATHE:

"Santa Claus is Coming to Town" - Bruce Springsteen
"Little Drummer Boy" - David Bowie and Bing Crosby
(not the song, just the version of it . . . *shudder*)
"My Favorite Things" - Tony Bennett
(maybe I would like this song more if it was done with a little dubstep flair)
"Please Come Home for Christmas" - The Eagles
"Santa Baby" - Eartha Kitt
"White Christmas" - The Drifters

Happy Christmas!

730 Project - December 21st

2011-12-22T15:32:00.001-05:00

Kitchen Couch

730 Project - 12.21.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Chick'n sandwiches with lettuce and Vegenaise, and a side of extra crispy crinkle cut fries and ketchup.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm setting our plates down. I thought we could eat in the kitchen."

"We're going to what?"

"We're going to eat in the kitchen."

" . . . "

"If you're really that uncomfortable, you can sit on the couch instead. That's WHY I got a Kitchen Couch. Well that, and y'know, having a couch in a kitchen seemed like an infinitely awesome idea. Who else does that shit? I do."

My name is Steff and I LOATHE kitchen tables.

I both am morally and socially opposed to them.

(But that doesn't mean I'm anti-"eating in my kitchen from time to time."

Viva del sofá.

Click.

730 Project - December 20th

2011-12-21T19:58:00.000-05:00

Background

730 Project - 12.20.11. Steff. At home. Roasted beets with goat cheese, maple candied cashews, and endive.

Who cares about what's going on in the foreground of this picture? Seriously - it's what's going on behind me that matters.

Masterfully, in about an hour's time, I created very large amounts of two separate dishes: a mock beef stew (it's on the right) and a spicy coconut Thai soup (it's on the left, it's bright yellow, and if you look closely you'll see that it's overflowing on one side - that was fun to clean [my apartment is going to smell for days]).

And then I refused to clean it all up until I had devoured some dinner (you'll see a dirty spoon and cutting board where a hunk of butternut squash is sitting alongside an empty bag of almonds and, why yes, that IS multi-colored lights in a Guinness glass!).

Click.

730 Project - December 19th

2011-12-21T19:46:00.000-05:00

Netflix Surfing

730 Project - 12.19.11. Steff, Mom, Cari. At Mom's house. Enchilada's (made from rice, beans, cheese, tomatoes, and a spicy sauce) with chips.

Somehow, despite my best efforts to leave early and get to bed at a reasonable time, I didn't go to sleep until well after midnight.

My sister suckered me into staying by seducing me with bad Netflix surfing (I'm easy, what can I say?!). Eventually we settled on watching Life in A Day (GORGEOUS film, except for the last five minutes which felt forced and phony, which is too bad since the rest of the movie flowed organically), but not before reading through several terrible sounding movies. And she also showed me some random clip of a movie about people who get sewn anus to mouth to anus to create a centipede like creature (yes, it's a real movie . . . it's like screen writers don't even try anymore, and producers just throw their money at anything. Which makes me wonder why the hell they aren't jumping at the chance to make my book a romcom).

Man, I love when she's home.

Click.

Maybe It's Me: December 17th, or, A So Needed Good Day

2011-12-20T12:53:00.000-05:00

December 17th.

As far as I know, there is nothing particularly spectacular about this date. It’s just another ordinary day in a calendar year filled with other routinely ordinary days.

Or so I thought.

It’s amazing how when we wake up in the morning, despite our best intentions, we really don’t have any idea how the day is going to turn out. We may think we do – we may anxiously anticipate or dread things that end up being much more harmless than we expected; we may be disappointed or underwhelmed by those things that we had looked forward to with delight; we may even be pleasantly and unexpectedly swept off our feet by the abundant beauty, inspiration, love, and peace than we ever thought was possible by seemingly undistinguished moments.

Today was a perfect day in a year of imperfect days. And by no means do I expect you to find it especially extraordinary or impressive, beecause my small miracles, may not be yours; we may not share the same moments of joy; your simple pleasures and mine may be different.

But December 17th was good to me. And it was good for me.

And I so needed it.

Maybe it’s me, but any day that we can look back on and genuinely remember as being a “good day” to be who we are, to be alive, to be actively living life is good enough to make the “bad days” not seem so bad.

My sister – one of my best friends and love’s of my life – moved too far away from me in this past year. And I think we both can feel the strain. Not just emotionally, either: for me, at least, it sometimes feels as though a part of my physical self is being uncomfortably stretched in a way that alternatively aches and feels liberating (because, I know she needs space to grow as a person – and if there’s one way to do it, running away to a foreign country certainly helps. Trust me. I know a thing or two about doing that. Selfishly, though, that still doesn’t stop me from hating the miles between us.). She hasn’t been back home much. And the first time she did come to visit for a couple weeks during summer, the time we had together was a little awkward. She had changed so much, it was a little difficult to try and race to keep up. For the first time ever I wondered where I fit into her new life, how I would evolve or conform to be a part of it, and whether or not I would contribute anything important to her life as her “big sister” ever again.

But the bottom line is that when a person can give and receive love to and from you unconditionally, when a person can make you laugh right from the deepest depths of your soul, when you share so much private history with someone . . . very little can get in the way of a relationship like that.

And very, very little has ever gotten between her and me.

Her coming home for the holidays may have been the number one thing I was looking forward to, especially since I was having a tremendously difficult time feeling festive. I was absolutely delighted that I would be able to spend an entire day with her when she first arrived back in town – that, in and of itself, was the most amazing gift I could have ever hope or asked for. And I had an idea of how I wanted to celebrate this very special season with her, what I wanted to do, where I wanted to take her, but I had no idea that it was going to turn out better than what I had wanted.

I picked her up and we collapsed into a loving embrace, breathing the familiar scent of each other in, before leaving for our grand adventure out. We quickly picked up where we left off, falling back into our witty banter, quips, and intelligent conversation.

She was openly chatty the entire car ride – and I just soaked in the beauty of it. It had been a long time since I could just listen to her voice – still girlish in some ways, yet raspy from years of cigarettes in others - listen to her speaking freely about any and everything. I didn’t say much, but that was as it needed to be: sometimes it really is more important to just stop and listen, because it can be just as meaningful.

When we got into town, we stopped for coffee and I coerced her into getting something other than coffee. Trusting me, she got a peppermint mocha latte and loved it. “This was not nearly as pretentious or confusing to order as I thought it was going to be!” she exclaimed, slurping on her drink while I felt the tendrils of warmth of my own cinnamon dolce latte with soy milk-no whip cream-no toppings expand throughout my own torso. It was nice to see her open and receptive to new things – that may have been part of the glow I was feeling internally.

My gift to her was tattoos: matching wasps on our left arm in honor of one of our favorite songs about siblings that have been through a lot, are best friends, and have been separated for one reason or another (no, I don’t feel the need to expand on this: I’m intentionally being vague, because this is between me and her). We have each had some exceptionally bad experiences with tattoo artists in recent memory, and I was excited to introduce her to my new one: someone who invoked calmness, was genuinely honest, had a reassuring presence, and was both surrounded by and exuded a clean, positive energy. As she sat in the chair getting tattooed in a black hoodie, her graham cracker colored hair falling in her face, she looked over at me with tears in her clear eyes and said, “This might be the most relaxed I’ve been all year.” And for me: that moment . . . that beautiful moment of sitting in an art studio, in my favorite town, with one of my favorite people, in what felt like a totally peaceful and organic moment, sharing an incredibly meaningful and permanent piece of work on our bodies . . . made my already good day perfect.

After our appointment, I took her to lunch where we sat quietly and ate ravenously. I took a photo of us and it might be one of my new favorite ones, maybe it’s because I know what we were thinking, how we were feeling, and the lack of wanting anything else in that exact moment.

I then though it would be fun to take her someplace in our beloved city that she had never been. So we headed over to the East End Beach, a gem right in the middle of town. Despite the frigid temperature, we leisurely walked up the isolated crescent of beach, our shoes sinking and slipping on the cold sand. We stopped here and there to collect pretty or unique shells (something we've been doing our entire lives: we're ocean babies), and to stare out onto the majestic Atlantic, mesmerized by the sound of her waves rolling up on to the beach inches from our feet. "You know, I haven't seen the ocean in five months," my sister mentioned softly. "The longest stretch I've ever gone." Nearby a seagull mocked us teetering close then wobbly shifting away again. And it was an incredibly serene and majestic moment.

Before heading home we stopped at the grocery store where we meandered around encumbered like the other shoppers rushed around here and there, totally self-absorbed with their “last minute” shopping lists. She and I laughed over private jokes, people watched/mocked, tried too many samples of everything, and were just us. The us we always have been.

During our drive home we had a heart to heart about love and boyfriends. I am not sure what I accomplished with it: did I perhaps reassure her about the feelings she had? Did I remind her that she wasn’t alone with those feelings or her thoughts – that she had someone she could identify with and confide in? Did I permit her a brief respite from her usual guarded self to let her feel those feelings and think those thoughts openly? It was just as good for me as it was for her to put into words and outwardly voice my own feelings and thoughts of my relationship – it made it even more real. And it was nice to have such an adult moment with my little sister. It really, really was.

I dropped her off at my parent’s house where we spent a few more hours together. She helped me construct a vegan salami loaf (layers of salami and cream cheese, topped with green olives – I’m sure it sounds disgusting, but it was a staple holiday nosh item when we were younger and something I wouldn’t dream of eating now . . . until I figured out how to “veganize” it). I was totally convinced it was going to taste absolutely repulsive, while she – from the beginning - had unwavering confidence that it was going to be delicious. And she was right: it was very tasty. She is the only person I could have made such a food disaster with, and it was thrilling to me that it worked out.

We ended our night like we always have and probably always will: with music. We discussed the best albums of the years, bands surely to be popular in the year to come, trends in the industry, etc. She introduced me to several new songs I had never heard of. One of which, when I would listen to again later that night, would make me cry big, salty tears of joy.

Because it had been such a good day.

Good to us.

And good for us.

And we so needed it.

After I had hugged her and said goodnight for the third time, I wondered if my leaving for the night was a mistake. I could stay just a little longer, couldn’t I? We could spend a few more hours talking. For that matter, she and I could probably spend a few more days just talking and laughing and being us. Good days are so far and few in between for she and I, not just as a team, but individually as well. And part of me didn’t want to see it ever come to an end: so how could I prolong the beauty of the day we had? How could I sustain the deep sense of peace and love that was resonating within each of us?

The truth is: I couldn’t.

Because at some point it had to end – the day that is. Nothing else had to end if we didn’t – if we don’t – want it to. She and I have been blessed enough to have already shared multiple days together throughout sisterhood that have been “one of the best days of our lives.” We don’t forget them. We draw from them in our dark or lonely moments. They strengthen and encourage us. And this day? This December 17th which I assumed would be just another ordinary day in a calendar year filled with routinely ordinary days?

This was something totally extraordinary. I was pleasantly and unexpectedly swept off my feet in a way I never thought was possible by a string of seemingly normal moments.

And it was another day for us to add to that catalog of “best days ever.”

Despite all of the awful things that I suffered through this year, I know beyond reasonable doubt that this one good day will be remembered more than the rest of those ugly days will be.

So with a grateful prayer and a thankful heart I headed home.

730 Project - December 18th

2011-12-20T11:04:00.000-05:00

Salami Loaf

730 Project - 12.18.11. Steff. At home. Leftover salami loaf with water crackers.

So, when I was little my mom used to make this thing called "Salami Loaf" at the holidays. It's a dish for noshing on (like a dip) that you cut into, take a wedge, and plop it on a Chicken in a Biskit cracker (a very serious mouthgasm).

While I don't "miss" much from my pre-vegetarian life, this is one of those things that makes me nostalgic: it reminds me of many good childhood Christmases.

I thought I would try and recreate it vegan style, settled upon the fact that it would not taste like the real thing and may even taste disgusting. But I had to know if it was possible.

And, ooh babeh . . . it was STILL a mouthgasm.

Salami Loaf
(for carnivores or herbivores)
Ingredients
- Package of salami
- Tub of cream cheese
- Green olives
- Crackers

Directions
Mix some of the juice of the green olives and the tub of cream cheese together. Smear some of the cream cheese concoction on a plate, place a piece of salami on top of that. Repeat process until you've run out of salami. Then cover the whole thing in the cream cheese concoction like you're icing a cake. Cut green olives in half and place on top and sides of "Salami Loaf."

Chill. Eat (with a cracker). Love.

Click.

730 Project - December 17th

2011-12-20T10:54:00.005-05:00

"I see a wasp on the length of my arm."

730 Project - 12.17.11. Steff and Cari. At Otto's (in Portland, ME). Cari: chicken, asiago, and spinach pizza; Steff: white bean, roasted tomato, herb and red flake.

Today was one of the best days I've had all year.
(This may be one of my new favorite pictures of me and my sister.)

Also (matching tattoos for Christmas) . . .

Click.

730 Project - December 16th

2011-12-16T20:53:00.000-05:00

Guac Girl

730 Project - 12.16.11. Steff. At home. A giant bowl of homemade guacamole and some really bad tortilla chips from the Dollar Store. WINNING.

What do you do on a Friday night?

Oh, me? I make a bathtub sized vat of guacamole and go to town.

Duh.

(In case you were wondering: this is what smexy looks like.)

Click.

730 Project - December 15th

2011-12-16T11:17:00.001-05:00

Posing, Posing in the Distance; Posing, Posing With My Arm

730 Project - 12.15.11. Steff. At home. Nachos w/ a Caribbean twist: tortilla chips, topped with a jalapeno-bean spread, mango, and avocado.

I am thankful for yoga.

Mostly, because people have no idea the crazy poses I sometimes have to situate myself in just to get a good dinner shot. I'm sure they look effortless, and I look totally calm, cool, and collected but there are some nights where not only do I have to take a dozen shots before one looks good (things are out of focus, the food got cut off, it's too dark - this is what you get when you're using your BlackBerry as your camera), but I have to be a twisty-bobcat-pretzel just to get myself near enough to the food that we're both in the shot.

Take example tonight's photo . . . this is the ACTUAL shot before I resize it . . .

See the way the legs are bent?

That shit ain't easy.

So know that - while it infrequently looks like it - I work hard to deliver good shots nightly.

So there.

Click.

730 Project - December 14th

2011-12-15T14:21:00.000-05:00

Soggy

730 Project - 12.14.11. Steff. At home. Round two: mock chicken salad (made from chickpeas) sandwich with tomato and lettuce on pumpkin-raisin bread with a side of crinkle cut french fries topped with ketchup. Oh! And a Coke Zero.

Why do you look so ~~bored~~ surprised? I told you yesterday this was going to happen.

It tasted just as good as it did the first go around, too.

I'm really kind of failing you all here in the home stretch of this 730 Project, ain't I?

I do have to mention though: I did not cook my crinkle cut french fries as well as I cooked them last night. Tonight's were . . . soggy. THAT'S why I hate frozen french fries. How did I get them so crisp and lovely last night?!

I know . . . #firstworldproblems.

Click.

730 Project - December 13th

2011-12-14T18:57:00.003-05:00

Yes, That IS My Advent Book Behind me.

730 Project - 12.13.11. Steff. At home. A mock chicken salad (made from chickpeas) sandwich with tomato and lettuce on pumpkin-raisin bread with a side of crinkle cut french fries topped with ketchup.

You oughta be supah jelly 'bout toonight's pictah, yessuh.

It was delish.

I found this awesome mock chicken salad recipe and, as you may have noticed by now, am all about crinkle cut french fries these days (really, they're all I think about).

But bad, bad news (for you, not for me): get ready to see this EXACT dinner recreated definitely once more, maybe twice more.

Om nom, motherfrakin', nom.

Click.

730 Project - December 12th

2011-12-14T18:51:00.000-05:00

Tasty Counter Tops

730 Project - 12.12.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Mom: salad with balsamic vinaigrette; Steff: spicy chili stew.

We all do things in the privacy of our own homes that while we don't think twice about, others might find . . . well, weird.

For example (and this is me revealing something bizarre about myself) when I spill something on my counter, I immediately just bend down and lick it off. I don't see the point in wiping it with a dampened napkin or rag when my mouth can clean it just as well.

Tonight, a spot of jelly dripped onto my mom's counters. For a nanosecond I hesitated, quickly looking over my shoulder to see if she was watching, before leaning down to slurp it clean off.

"How'd the counter taste?" She asked.

"C'MON! YOU SAW THAT!?"

"No, but I could tell what you were doing by the way your body was bending," she responded, turning to look at me all sassy-like with that 'Mother's-know-everything-that-you-do-within-a-ten-foot-radius-of-them' look.

Meh, oh well. If she knows I do it, the rest of you oughta as well.

What're your quirky habits?

Click.

Maybe It's Me: Those Christmas (Un)Feelings, or, Powerful Stuff

2011-12-13T12:50:00.000-05:00

It’s Christmastime again.

I know this, because a calendar tells me so. Because stores are advertising for it. Because people have begun to wish me a “Merry this” and a “Happy that,” and they ask me what I’m doing for the holidays this year.

So, I know its Christmas.

I know it, but that doesn’t mean I feel it.

Christmas is a spectacular time to be alive, especially when you’re a Christian. What’s there not to love about . . . well, love? Which is entirely what the season is about: we were so loved that a baby was born for us purposefully to grow up to die for our sins. All because He loved us.

That’s powerful stuff right there.

But I’m worried for myself. I’m worried for the one’s I love who seem to be going through the motions of the season effortlessly. I wonder if they’re actually feeling the holiday in their heart and soul, or is it just a cognizant thing to them as well? Maybe they’re just better actors than I am, or maybe they really do feel something I’m not.

And if it’s just me “unfeeling,” than I’m especially worried.

I can’t figure out why I’m having this strange disconnect mentally from emotionally, though. I’m not “celebrating” any less than I have during past holidays. And sensorically-speaking, I’ve done everything and more . . .

My house is decorated with all my favorite things, including the crèche I received when I was first born, a stunning poinsettia, and a very large tree with quite a lot of character (it might be my most ill-behaved fir, yet). I see Christmas, but I don’t feel it.

There is an undercurrent of pine in the air. And whenever I visit my parent’s house, I’m enveloped in the scents I’ve especially come to love at this time of year, like baked goods and cinnamon. I smell Christmas, but I don’t feel it.

I’ve listened to all my favorite songs (I even got to hear actual carol singers on the street!). Alright so I’ve avoided one or two because they make me especially emotional, but still . . . I even have jingle bells on my front door! I hear Christmas, but I don’t feel it.

Gingerbread men? Check. Muddy buddies? Check. Soynog? Check. Dinner menu ready? Check. I taste Christmas, but I don’t feel it.

I’ve tried to think back on Christmases past. Have I ever truly “felt” the season as it was happening? The exaltation, the wonder, the fellowship, the worship, the thanksgiving, the holiness, the love: did I embrace those glorious emotions letting them permeate through me, through my day? Did I recognize and celebrate, not only the breathtaking moments of the season, but the ordinary moments as well – those which are small miracles in and of themselves, and while they go underappreciated all yearlong, seem to be magnified and undeniably beautiful during this season of tenderness and appreciation?

Or did I simply get swept up in the unsurprising yearly flood of obligatory yuletide merriment, expectation, anticipation, the unavoidable angst that accompanies both, and traditions which are becoming so traditional, so repetitive in nature that they’ve actually begun to lose their meaning?

I don’t remember.

I do recall that last Christmas was one of the best I’ve ever had. There was something in the air - some sort of undulating, unconditional joy between every exchange, every interaction that was had. It was truly a hopeful season. And maybe I just felt this way, because I was in such a good place in my life – professionally, financially, romantically, etc. - that all I could see was the beauty in everything. Absolutely everything. But, even more gloriously in the background of everything my significant other was becoming a faithful man, submitting his heart to the Reason we celebrate Christmas. And that’s possibly the best gift he could have given me . . . given himself . . . given to us.

I’m one of those people who habitually get the post-Christmas blues. And I know why: despite my attitude towards the humanity (which is generally a pretty negative one, because let’s face it – we can be quite wicked creatures), I really do want love for us all. I think loving and being loved is healing, comforting, and empowering. And during Christmas it just always seems that people are a gentler, more thoughtful, more loving version of themselves. And I hate that everyone reverts back to their darker shades as soon as the annual celebration of the birth of Christ as come and gone. Why can’t these feelings be sustained all year long? Is it really that much more work to be compassionate and kind then to be self-serving and bitter?

You know, maybe it doesn’t feel like Christmas because there isn’t any snow. Not that I want any, but during this time of year, my geographical world is usually covered in it’s seasonal blanket of white, glittering snow (which is pretty now, but becomes depressing and suffocating quite quickly after the New Year.)

Or maybe it doesn’t feel like Christmas, because I’m beginning to lose sense of time. It seems the older I get, the quicker the days, the weeks, the months . . . the years . . . tick by. I can remember every day of this past year like it was yesterday and yet somehow: it wasn’t. Those memories take place months ago. It’s like time speeds on, and I’m struggling to play catch-up. Oh, it’s the holidays already? Again? Wasn’t it just Christmas . . . a year ago? So, here we are at the end of another calendar and I’m not sure where the time went.

My frustration and confusion is mounting. I have no control over the weather. I have no control over the passing of time. And I’ve done absolutely everything “right” as far as sensory overload, celebration, involvement, and tradition goes.

What more can I do to make it feel like Christmas for myself?!?

You know, maybe it’s me, but perhaps “more” isn’t what I, or you, or any of us should be doing during this season: perhaps we could be doing “less.”

Less obligatory yuletide merriment, less expectation, less anticipation, less of the unavoidable angst that accompanies both, less forcing traditions on ourselves if they aren’t meaningful, less “stuff” if it has no sentimental value, less white noise with songs or specials that don’t move us, less gifts for people we feel we have to buy and don’t genuinely want to buy, less of us getting in the way of ourselves from celebrating one of the most important days of the year.

I know that inevitably something will trigger a surge of emotions that will propel me into the here and now, warming my soul with Christmas “cheer.” It happens, it always happens, and I need to stop worrying in abundance that it hasn’t happened yet.

Perhaps what I need to do is to sit quietly with my tree, and tea, and thoughts. And without agenda or demand, allow myself to soak in an ordinary moment – appreciating the small miracle that is being able to afford a tree, or taste delicate flavors, or have the time (a luxury few of us can afford in these hurried, dark times) to simply be still in His presence in an otherwise unremarkable moment.

My hope for you this season is that you’ll remember to let go. And breathe. Breathe in the exaltation, the wonder, the fellowship, the worship, the thanksgiving, the holiness . . . and breathe out – even if for just one December day – the doubts, anxiety, and fear that keep you from being your most gentle and thoughtful both to others and to yourself.

My hope for you is love.

Because that’s powerful stuff right there.

730 Project - December 11th

2011-12-13T10:15:00.000-05:00

The Story of Me Eating Gingerbread Men

730 Project - 12.11.11. Steff. At home. A (portly) gingerbread man.

730 Project - December 10th

2011-12-13T08:31:00.000-05:00

Life In High-Def

730 Project - 12.10.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Gardein Seven Grain Crispy Chick'n Tender sandwich with tomato, lettuce, and avocado and a side of crinkle-cut french fries.

Sometimes I wonder why I don't have my boyfriend just follow me around and take pictures of my life . . . he captures it so pretty. Even things like this:

(Now I just need to find:
a) a musician friend who'll write me theme songs to play while I live, and
b) a friend with a great, deep voice to narrate my life and I'll be all set).

Click.

730 Project - December 9th

2011-12-11T20:31:00.000-05:00

Nachos Redux

730 Project - 12.09.11. Steff. At home. Nachos with Daiya cheddar cheeze, Amy's Organics chili, avocado, and salsa.

Tonight, I triumphantly returned to the grocery store I had bought last night's moldy cheese from and demanded my money back - but not before I went back to the cheeze aisle and found multiple other bags with mold growing in them.

Blech.

Yak.

Shudder.

Anyway, the point anyway is that I HAD to redo last night's dinner, but properly: with cheeze, on a tray, baked. And, hell yes, I ate the whole damn thing.

Oh, nachos: why you taste so good?

(Dear city in which I abide: you can thank me later for saving you all from moldy fake cheeze.)

Click.

Fact is Better: Conversations from the Pizza Line

2011-12-09T14:07:00.000-05:00

We had stopped by Otto's at the beginning of the First Friday Art Walk in hope of scoring some of their "pear-gorgonzola-arugula" pizza, a specialty for that night only (and they rarely do vegetarian-based specialties). When the girl said they had it, but couldn't put it out yet, we immediately bailed knowing we would just try again later.

Later came, and we slipped back in line. Behind us were two very loud, very arrogant tourists. The woman was so close behind me in the queue, that I couldn't pull a full breath without fear of actually touching her (I wish that was an exaggeration).

Otto's Girl: *recognizing us from earlier* "Hey, we've got the pear one now, you guys want that?"
*we nod enthusiastically.*
Angry Tourist Woman: *starts yell-talking over us - literally* "WHAT WAS THAT?! I MISSED THAT. DID YOU HEAR THAT!? I DIDN'T HEAR THAT!" *she turns to her significant other and sighs heavily as if some great offense has just been personally done to her* "DID YOU HEAR THAT? BECAUSE I DIDN'T."
*we cross the counter to wait on the other side of it, and watch as the woman starts verbally attacking the server.*
Angry Tourist Woman: "I DIDN'T HEAR WHAT THEY ORDERED. WHAT DID THEY ORDER? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT TO ORDER IF YOU DON'T LABEL THE PIZZAS?!"
Otto's Girl: *patiently* "Well, tonight we have: cheese, tortellini, pear-gorgonzola-arugula, pork and mango, chicken-apple-brie, bacon-mashed potato-scal . . ."
Angry Tourist Woman: "WHAT WAS THE ONE BEFORE THAT?!"
Otto's Girl: "Um, chicken-apple-brie?"
Angry Tourist Woman: "NO. NO. YOU'RE LYING. WHAT WAS THE BEFORE THAT?!"
Otto's Girl: "Um . . . I'm not sure . . ."
Angry Tourist Woman: "UGH! WE WANT THE ONE THEY'RE HAVING."
Otto's Girl: "Pear-gorgonzola-arugula?"
Angry Tourist Woman: "YES. UGH. THAT'S WHY I SAID THE ONE BEFORE THE ONE'S YOU WERE LISTING."
*The Photographer and I just look at each other, quietly biting our tongues. When our pizzas, along with the angry tourist woman's, were ready (after they had been cooked), they were topped with fresh arugula and a sweet vinagrette. I grab the slices off the counter and hand one to The Photographer and, trying to be nice since it was crowded and loud (and the angry tourists didn't hear the guy say they were ready), one to the loud woman.*
Angry Tourist Woman: "WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT'RE YOU DOING RIGHT NOW?!"
Me: "It's the pear-gorgonzola-arugula pizza you ordered, I was just . . . handing them out?"
Angry Tourist Woman: *she pushes the plate and my hand away from her, and begins to bark at the folks behind the counter.* "WHAT IS THIS?! WHERE'S MY PIZZA. I ASKED FOR THE PEAR, GORGONZOLA, AND ARUGUALA ONE."
Otto's Girl: *takes several deep breaths* "Ma'am, that IS the pear, gorgonzola, aruguala one."
Angry Tourist Woman: "NO. NO. NO IT'S NOT."
Otto's Girl: "Yes, it sure is."
Angry Tourist Woman: *looks around . . . well . . . angrily, before ripping the plate out of my hand* "I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE TWO DIFFERENT SLICES. A PEAR-GORGONZOLA PIZZA, AND AN ARUGULA PIZZA."
The Photographer: *usually the picture of patience, growls under his breath* "We need to leave right now." *as soon we were outside, he breathes out* "WHAT THE HELL IS ARUGULA PIZZA?! Really, arugula pizza? Really?! Those people were just awful." *he takes a huge bite of his slice, and calms right down while the Angry Tourist Woman continues to unhappily bitch in the background.*

How can one be so unhappy when they've got a slice of pizza in their hands?!

True story.

And further proof that fact, and the conversations that happen while waiting in line to get your pizza with other famished folks, is better than fiction.

730 Project - December 8th

2011-12-09T09:00:00.000-05:00

Disappointment

730 Project - 12.08.11. Steff. At home. Tortilla chips topped with Amy's Organics chili and chopped up avocado.

This is the face of a very, very sad girl.

Today was payday. And payday usually means that I can splurge and by some kind of wonderful food item. I was craving nachos and was delighted at the idea of having them, since some of the ingredients can be a little pricey (given my geographical location and dietary lifestyle). So, I went to the store and got some salsa, chips, avocado, vegan chili, and vegan cheeze.

Rushing home, I turned the oven on and pulled out a cookie sheet to line it with aluminum foil. Excitedly (and ravenously) I dumped half the bag of chips on it, popped open the salsa jar, prepared the chili, chopped the avocado, and ripped the bag of cheeze open . . .

. . . to find it was absolutely covered in green mold.

My stomach dropped and I grimaced at the off-putting smell coming from it. After taking multiple pictures of this abnormality, I wrapped it up, stuck it back in the fridge and stared at the now sad looking assortment of nacho toppings that I knew were eagerly awaiting the chance of being piled on top of one another and baked with cheeze until it just began to brown.

A fate they would never see.

But when a girl has a craving, a girl has a craving. And nothing can (or should) thwart that. So, after Tweeting my disappointment to the cheeze company, I unhappily made and ate the pathetic nachos anyway, longing for that oven-browned cheeze.

And I pouted.

This is the face of a very, very sad girl.

Click.

730 Project - December 7th

2011-12-08T20:30:00.000-05:00

Make it your own!

730 Project - 12.07.11. Steff. At home. Lentil coconut curry with butternut squash on a bed of basmati rice.

I can't remember where I found the original lentil with butternut squash curry recipe. I've tried to search for it on the interwebz, but I can't seem to find it.

I'm thinking that's because it's mostly made up at this point.

That's the fun and uniqueness about cooking. You can take something that isn't yours, put a spin on it, perfect it, and over the years it becomes something you made. Something you can claim as yours, because . . . well, it is.

This recipe definitely didn't call for coconut curry powder originally, I know that much. But my parents bought me some really nice spices when they were in the Caribbean, including a pale yellow coconut curry spice - it is the most lush, silky smelling thing in the world. I could breathe it in all day.

Have a recipe that you like? Why don't you work on making it your own and grow to love it? Then when you teach people - like your kids - your creating your own gastronomical legacy.

Click.

730 Project - December 6th

2011-12-07T15:53:00.002-05:00

I really love Chinese food.

730 Project - 12.06.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Veggie lo mein and spring rolls with sauce from Wei Li.

My family has loved Wei-Li Chinese Restaurant for over a decade. Their food is cooked to order and contains no MSG or oil, and are naturally low in sodium, carbs, and calories (I mean, really, what more could you want!?). A couple years ago they were even named one of the top 100 Chinese Food Restaurants in all of the United States.

When we first started frequenting this place, the husband and wife duo who own and operate it had one daughter. Over the years, they had another. The two girls have their own designated play area in the restaurant, and are both well-behaved and entertaining. They've become a staple part of the experience at Wei Li.

But at some point, they grew up. Because the eldest daughter now knows how to run the cash register. I don't think she's much older than twelve or thirteen. While I was waiting for my take-out order, someone else came in and was patiently waiting at the empty cash register for someone to ring him up. The eldest daughter came out of the kitchen, apathetically walked over, and started punching things into the POS system. "Credit card?," she asked with boredom in her voice, taking his card and swiping it. She handed him his receipt, and walked away with the same indifferent gait.

It was my "holy shit, do I feel old" moment of the day.

(I expect more of these are going to happen over the course of the years now).

Click.

P.S.
Today was an incredible "Mommy and Me Day" (NO YOU CAN NEVER BE TOO OLD FOR THOSE, JERKFACE!). We had lunch, we saw The Muppets (weepy Steff was weepy), we watched bad reality TV show and laughed, we had delicious Chinese, then we watched Hallmark Christmas movies and cried. Really? It was awesome. Maybe even f'awesome.

730 Project - December 5th

2011-12-06T11:24:00.000-05:00

National Comfort Food Day

730 Project - 12.05.11. Steff (and not pictured: the Phantom Food Provider, aka my Mom). At Mom's house. Grilled cheese on sun-dried tomato bread with a side of french fries and ketchup. Happy National Comfort Food Day, indeed!

I accidentally happened to be able to celebration National Comfort Food Day today because my brilliant mom invited me over for grilled cheese.

And then she surprised me with french fries.

FRENCH FRIES!

Oh man, is there anything better (or more comforting, or more nostalgic) than your mom making you grilled cheese and french fries on a cold winter day?!

And, y'know, I felt like a little kid eating my frah-fries: I can't remember the last time I had ketchup, and joyfully squirted it all over my fries. After each french fry I had to lick my fingers clean - it was seriously like being a kid again and I loved every second of it.

I hope your National Comfort Food Day was as wonderful!

Click.

730 Project - December 4th

2011-12-05T13:31:00.000-05:00

This is My "I Don't Want This" Face

730 Project - 12.04.11. Steff. At home. Garlic rice, caramelized butternut squash, and a mandarin.

It's the end of the second year of my "Photos at Dinner" project thingermabob and tonight may have been one of the most disappointing nights yet.

This is not what I wanted.

Nope. Nosireebob. Not at all. Definitely not. Nu unh. No way.

But, it's what a girl had in her house for food.

Bah mother-frackin'-humbug.

Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is . . . good food.

Click.

730 Project - December 3rd

2011-12-05T13:28:00.000-05:00

A Veggie-versary

730 Project - 12.3.11. Steff, Jeffrey Remick. and Beth (Jeffrey's Mom). In Rochester, NH. Fajita's (made with orange, yellow, and red peppers, onions, mushrooms, and Gardein's "Seven Grain Crispy Tenders") and chips with homemade guacamole and salsa.

My fascination with food goes far beyond just eating it - it has to do with the history of it, the social significance, the cultural relevance, the sourcing of the ingredients, etc. The entire experience is what I'm intrigued and moved by.

It's always kind of fun to educate someone about your dietary and lifestyle choices who are genuinely interested in them. It's even more amazing when someone you love has absorbed so much, that they can then turn around and show someone else that they love.

Tonight, I was impressed with The Photographer, who excitedly and enthusiastically wanted to prepare and share a vegan meal with his mom. I have never seen him so dedicated and involved when cooking before, but tonight he was in his zone. He julienned peppers, he de-seeded jalapenos, and he masterfully prepared fajitas like he had been doing it his whole life.

I think this is the same kind of pride a teacher feels when a student finally "gets it."

Happy almost Two Year Veggie-versary, Photographer!

Click.

730 Project - December 2nd

2011-12-04T17:27:00.001-05:00

Our Waistlines Are Doomed

730 Project - 12.2.11, Part 1. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Otto's (in Portland, ME). Pear, gorgonzola, and arugula pizza.

730 Project - 12.2.11, Part 2. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. In Portland, ME. Veggie burritos from Hella Good Tacos.

What's better than a night of awesome local food (we didn't eat dinner once, we ate dinner twice! BOTH of our favorite places were available tonight: it's like the universe wants us to get fat), beautiful festive scenery, artistry, and a cute boy to share it with?

We drank loads of free red wine, listened to carolers (CAROLERS! Nobody carol's anymore!), purchased four one-of-a-kind Chinese-inspired water colors by local art students for $4, and had a run-in with one of The Photographer's ex's who was openly and intimately flirting with him (but I was cool with it, because I love awkward moments - is that weird?).

This holiday season is going to rock.

Click.

730 Project - December 1st

2011-12-03T23:20:00.000-05:00

The Home Stretch

730 Project - 12.1.11. Steff. At home. English Tea: a bacon butty and roasties.

Immediately after this, I thought: "I'm a motherfrackin' fatty, aren't I?"

Despite the fact that this meal was entirely vegan, I still felt like I could've done better for myself than eat a pan of butter-roasted potatoes and a fried fake bacon sandwich. Even while I was eating it, I was shaking my head in disgust at myself randomly pinching that fat on my pooch and batwings. This has got to stop.

After the holidays, of course. Because, y'know, all of December is a celebration and my taste buds deserve to be part of those festivities. And, what else is New Years for but to make resolutions about reducing our fatty-ness?!

Click.

730 Project - November 30th

2011-12-03T23:12:00.001-05:00

DOUBLE SCORE

730 Project - 11.30.11. Steff. At home. Leftover vegetarian lo mein and multiple clementines.

Few things in this world are as delicious as leftover, cold Chinese food.

(Thank you, boyfriend, for forgetting to take this with you when you left this morning. SCORE FOR ME!)

((One more day where I didn't have to cook, plan, or think about "what's for dinner?" DOUBLE SCORE FOR ME!!))

Click.

730 Project - November 29th

2011-12-01T15:09:00.000-05:00

Pork Fried Rice? That doesn't make sense.

730 Project - 11.29.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Chinese food!: vegetarian lo mein, spring rolls, and a mushroom-pea pod-broccoli dish with white rice.

Let me tell you a story.

This afternoon I asked The Photographer, "What shall we do for dinner?"

To which he replied, "I'm not sure."

So I said, "How about Chinky food?"

He responded with an enthusastic, "YES."

I finalized the plans by telling him, "It doesn't have to be very good - just cheap and plentiful."

So he picked me up.

And we drove to Bad Chinese Food Place #1.

Their entire menu featured dead animal.

So we drove down the street to Bad Chinese Food Place #2.

Their entire menu featured dead animal, as well.

We decided to drive to the next town to try Bad Chinese Food Place #3.

Their menu was eight pages long - only four items on the whole thing were vegetarian (and two of them came with pork fried rice . . . does that make sense to you? No, us either).

We bought three of those four items (but asked for white rice instead).

It was f'awesomely bad Chinese food.

And I didn't have to cook.

Click.

730 Project - November 28th

2011-11-30T08:17:00.000-05:00

The Beginning of a Holiday "Slump"

730 Project - 11.28.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Lasagna and crescent rolls. Homemade pudding for dessert.

Yeah, I can't say that I've been doing too much by way of cooking lately. I think I'm in a holiday "slump." And I blame this entirely on Thanksgiving which has ruined me in two ways:

1. I ate so freakin' much on Thanksgiving, that ever since I've been having "hollow days." NOTHING is making me full! I just have to eat and eat and eat to fill the expanded black hole that my belleh has become as a result of the massive quantities of food I shoveled into my face on that Day of Giving Thanks.

2. Because there were so many leftovers for Thanksgiving, I haven't had to buy groceries or even think about cooking anything. A never ending supply of delicious food seems to have been in my fridge. Until today - I've officially ran out. Now I'm under the false hope that more food will magically appear, because it's officially the holiday season and there always seems to be an overabundance of food and that I'm often an enthusiastic recipient of.

So, thanks, Mom for helping me avoid cooking or even thinking about "what to do for dinner" for one more night.

(I wonder how long this can last?)

Click.

730 Project - November 27th

2011-11-28T15:56:00.001-05:00

Two Slices

730 Project - 11.27.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Otto's (in Portland, ME). Jeffrey: tomato basil pizza; Steff: mushroom-cauliflower pizza.

The fact of the matter is that The Photographer and I are ~~fatty's~~ foodies. And when it comes to the things we love, we love them in large quantities.

And when we don't, we're cranky a few hours later. And cranky foodies are not people you necessarily want to hang out with (because they act like cranky dinosaurs).

This happens A LOT with our favorite place, Otto's. We each think one slice of their mouthgasmic pizza is going to suffice.

And it never does.

And two hours later we're starving.

Tonight, I highly suggested that we each get two slices. He said no. He said one slice a piece would be totally sufficient.

Two hours later he was texting me, whining because he was hungry.

Well boo hoo. You shoulda gotten two pieces, boy-o. I told you so.
(Actually, so should I have: I went home and downed some leftover stuffing and apple sauce. Which was good, but no Otto's.)

Click.

730 Project - November 26th

2011-11-27T19:01:00.000-05:00

Leftovers, Part 2

730 Project - 11.26.11. Steff. At home. Thanksgiving Leftovers: cranberry sauce, mashed potatoes with gravy, mushroom and nut stuffing, and cauliflower casserole.

Yes, this is too much food for a girl to eat in one sitting.

I did it anyway.

(My belleh hurts.)

Click.

730 Project - November 25th

2011-11-27T18:57:00.000-05:00

Leftovers, Part 1

730 Project - 11.25.11. Steff. At home. Thanksgiving Leftovers: cranberry sauce, apple sauce, mashed potatoes with gravy, mushroom and nut stuffing, glazed carrots, and cauliflower casserole.

Hmm . . . shall I eat all these leftovers?

I shall! I shall!

('Tis the season of gluttony.)

Click.

Fact is Better: Pilgrim Pick-Up Lines

2011-11-26T18:12:00.000-05:00

When I was in the first grade our class recreated the first Thanksgiving meal. All the parents got together to cook and serve traditional foods, as the students acted out what it may have been like with the Pilgrims and the Native Americans. Now, without legally being able to admit to this, each student was chosen to be either a Pilgrim or a Native American based entirely on their looks.

A fair-haired, freckled me was brokenhearted when I was selected to be a Pilgrim (I wanted so badly to be a Native American - those kids to wear headdresses and pretty jewelry; while the "Pilgrim's" had to wear dresses and stupid hats).

So, I retold this story to The Photographer the night before Thanksgiving (and had a mild self-induced heart attack when I realized it was more than twenty years ago when this happened). Now, despite his dark, furry hair, when he was little The Photographer was also a blonde kid, meaning he would've also been a Pilgrim.

Now, I try not to share really personal stories about my romantic life, but this one was too humorous and lovely not to: a few days after we had the above conversation, the following text messages happened . . .

The Photographer: "I wanted you to know, that I would have shared food at the First Feast with you."

Me: "You would? How? Courting is very difficult you know."

The Photographer: "Of course I would. Foodies go well together, I hear."

Me: "So you'd just ask, 'Is this seat taken?'"

Me: "Or: 'Which colony are you from?'"

The Photographer: "Wanna own a farm with me? You're pretty."

Me: "'Were you on the Santamaria or the Nina? I didn't see you on The Pinta!'"

The Photographer: "That sure was a long journey. Wish we had been together to keep warm.'"

Me: "Wow, you would've jumped right in, eh?

Me: "'I make great pie.' That would've been my pick-up line."

The Photographer: "I never could've been so forward.

Me: "I take mine back. I would've said: 'I've got baby-making hips and can churn butter with the best of them.'"

The Photographer: "Oof. Winner. Pie making would've taken it, too, though."

Me: "Why am I picking YOU up at the First Feast? YOU'RE the boy. You would've had to trade some chickens for me or something."

The Photographer: "I would've traded all my chickens and a goat for you."

Me: "So, as a Pilgrim, when we landed on Plymouth Rock, you loved me upon first sight? And you waited until the first Thanksgiving to work up the nerve to court me?"

The Photographer: "First sight and hearing your witty talk."

Me: "I'm glad that even as a Settler, I was witty and not docile. The other Pilgrim boys wouldn't have liked my sass, you know."

The Photographer: "I know. But I was ahead of the times. I knew you could lead better than most men."

Me: "I'm glad you noticed me, Pilgrim Boy.'

The Photographer: "I'm glad you noticed me back, Pilgrim Girl."

*swooneth*

True story.

Further proof that fact is better (even in the first grade) then fiction.

730 Project - November 24th (Happy Thanksgiving!)

2011-11-25T16:41:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving 2011

730 Project - 11.24.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. Jack and Coke Zero - 'cause that's about all I could get in my tummy. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Highlights from Thanksgiving 2011:
1. If you sent me a "Happy Turkey Day" message, I defriended you because you don't probably don't really know me all that well.
2. Friend sent a mass text message. Someone on his list responded to ALL of us asking "You too! How was the breaf?!" Wrote to friend, "Yeah dude, how WAS the breaf?!" hoping for some juicy story. Apparently his mom is just learning to text and had sent him some banana bread in the mail. She wanted to know the breaD was. Still kept me entertained for hours.
3. The boyfriend had a fight with a wine bottle: he won (although he did have to go outside to kick it's ass, because the womenfolk were making him nervous).

But most importantly . . .
(and because four is my favorite number)

4. I ate so much, I'm pretty sure I rearranged my internal organs. But wait! "What can a vegetarian even eat on Thanksgiving?" (fuck, I hate the question).

So, here . . . THIS is what we eat on Thanksgiving:

(And you know what? This isn't even my plate, it was the boyfriends. Mine was twice as full of food, 'cause I'm a ziggypiggy.)

Click.

730 Project - November 23rd

2011-11-25T16:29:00.000-05:00

PB and Bacon

730 Project - 11.23.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Peanutbutter, fake bacon, and agave sandwiches with a side of homemade sweet potato fries.

A few weeks backs I had promised to make peanutbutter, fake bacon, and agave sandwiches for The Photographer for Thanksgiving Eve. At first, he wrinkled his nose at the idea of that particular combination of flavor profiles. "Do you like peanutbutter? Do you like bacon? Do you like agave? Well, ohkay then. I promise you're gonna love these, too. Besides what haven't you liked that I've made yet?!"

He had no response. That's right, bitches, I am a rockstar in the kitchen.
(At least in the boyfriend's eyes).

I made these sandwiches tonight and wouldn't you know The Photographer inhaled his. "Wow," I think he said, trying to lick his fingers with a mouth still full of food, "THERALLLOO!" "Yes," I responded, patting his knee, "These ARE really good. I told you you'd love them."

Now, I'd love to take the credit for these delicious badboys, but I can't. A friend's mother used to make them for us when we were in the third grade.

They're easy: grill or toast some bread, top with peanutbutter, cooked/facon for us bacon, and agave syrup. Close. Eat. Love.

You can thank me later.

Click.

730 Project - November 22nd

2011-11-23T23:23:00.002-05:00

Stuffed.

730 Project - 11.22.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Rice, soyrizo, and pea stuffed maple-glazed squash.

Up until about three years ago I was one of those girls who flat out refused to cook. I had this overwhelming feminist anxiety that if I cooked - especially for a boy - then that made me domestic. That made me a stereotypical woman standing in a kitchen cooking for a man. And for some strange reason that attacked my sense of dignity: as if all the advancements made for the female gender would be compromised by me turning on a burner.

I know that isn't true now. Mostly because when you become a vegetarian, you really have to learn to fend for yourself. Because no one is gonna fight your battles for you. So, I'm a self taught wonder-girl in the kitchen now and if anything, I actually feel like that's made me a stronger, more self-sustaining woman.

I can make healthy dishes, vegan ones, gluten-free meals . . . the only problem I've struggled with through the years in the kitchen is portion-control. I can't figure out how to cook for one person, or even two people. I always cook enough like I'm feeding a small country.

These squash . . . they're huge. Don't let the picture fool you . . . They were definitely too big for two people to eat alone.

That didn't stop us though.

Click.

730 Project - November 21st

2011-11-22T15:52:00.000-05:00

Soup's Up In Mah House

730 Project - 11.21.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Vegetarian chili soup with a side of cranberry-goat cheese spread on crackers. For dessert? MUDDY BUDDIES.

NPR recently said that soup sales have decreased in America.

. . .

Anybody follow this blog? Anybody see how much freakin' soup I've been eating lately? I feel like I'm drowning from the inside out sometimes.

(Bee tee dubs: eating a bowl of delicious homemade soup that wasn't made in your home?! Ten thousand times more awesome.)

Click.

730 Project - November 20th

2011-11-21T12:23:00.001-05:00

Thanksgiving Pizza

730 Project - 11.20.11. Steff. At home. Thanksgiving pizza (stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and Daiya "cheeze" on beer dough).

Sometimes, I impress even myself.

I woke up at noon, and by 3pm I had made: a simple carrot-onion-potato soup, a cabbage and tofu soup, a coconut curry lentil stew, an apple pie, and this beaut . . .

. . . a Thanksgiving pizza.

And it was so easy to make! Get some pre-made pizza dough (mine was beer dough, of course), spread a THIN amount of red sauce on it (don't bock! I know I wasn't the only kid in the cafeteria mixing their chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, and ketchup all together), layer with Daiya cheese, and top with mashed potatoes and stuffing (both of which are way easier to create then people make them out to be). Bake until the crust rises, and then dollop some cranberry sauce (mine was homemade, but I'm definitely not a canned-cranberry sauce hater: I could eat that shit all day) on it prior to eating.

Voila! A Thanksgiving pizza. And it was no more difficult to make then any regular homemade 'za.

The best part of all? It was totally vegan.

And I get to eat the whole thing by mahself.

After this creation, I gotta be honest: if I could ask myself out, I would.

Click.

730 Project - November 19th

2011-11-21T12:07:00.001-05:00

FWP

730 Project - 11.19.11. Steff. At home. Leftover homemade Chinese fried rice.

Yeah, leftover "Shiny" food isn't what I wanted after a full day of watching sparkling vampires marry and impregnate nondescript, average girls before duking it out with their werewolf archenemies over who she loves more even though the werewolf is gonna fall in love with their infant child anyway.

Sigh.

First world problems.

Click.

730 Project - November 18th

2011-11-21T11:35:00.000-05:00

Twitlight Night Three: Eclipse

730 Project - 11.18.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Artichoke dip and tortilla chips with facon wrapped chestnuts.

It was night three of my "Rewatch-the-Twilight-saga-and-tweet-live-my-every-thought."

And the boyfrann was with me (I paid him off in what was possible the most delicious dinner ever, even though it was very appetizer-y).

It's Twitter and Twilight. It's Twitlight!

Some of the glorious little tweets from yours truly included . . .

7:51pm - "Boyfrann: 'What is this, the matrix?' On opening credits with Summit logo."

7:54pm - "Pausing the movie because the boyfrann wants a back story. I love that he's taking an interest in this. Sexy point to him for this."

8:08pm - "I did an awful job at explaining these movies. A half a bottle of wine may have contributed to my tangential explanation. Sorry, Ms. Meyer."

8:36pm - "Trying to explain werewolf telepathy might be the hardest thing I've done all year."

8:40pm - "Panty dropping line: "When you see her? Its as if gravity isn't holding you down - she is." Well played, Jacob. Well. Played."

8:50pm - "My boyfrann can't wrap his brain around a vampire getting an erection. Minor detail, lover!"

9:01pm - "'You wouldn't have to change for me. Or say goodbye to anyone. I can give you more than him': Jacob panty dropping lines."

9:03pm - "‎'I kissed her. And she broke her hand punching me in the face. Total misunderstanding.' Aint life always like that, boys?"

9:09pm - "The newborn vampires are running a-muck a-muck a-muck a-muck a-muck (little Hocus Pocus reference for you)."

9:13pm - "Boyfrann says: 'I like how they make the werewolves act like a pack even when they're human.' I think he's suckered in."

9:36pm - "Ill make you a vampire if you marry me. Ill marry you if you have sex with me. These conditions are ridiculous, kiddos."

9:39pm - "‎'I promise to love you every moment of forever. Would you do me the extraordinary honor of marrying me?' PANTY DROPPING line forrizzle."

9:48pm - "Boyfrann says: 'If I was a vampire and we were in this situation, I would be okay w/ you cuddling the werewolf for warmth.' Whatta good guy."

9:59pm - "Boyfrann: 'I like the vampire who looks like a Jersey Shore bro-dude.' (He's talking about Emmett.) GTLB! Gym, tanning, laundry, blood"

Don't let him fool you: my boyfriend might look and act like a hipster, but he's all Jersey Shore-Sparkly Vampire loving underneath it all.

Click.

Fact is Better: With a Wink and a Smile

2011-11-18T15:30:00.000-05:00

About a month ago a friend suggested that I consider writing a guest “Fact is Better” blog. I did and it was so well received, I knew I had to do it again (check out the first one here, if you're so tempted). After all, everyone experiences moments in life that are just too awesome or too bizarre to be real. But the best part is: they are. That’s what makes fact better than fiction most times.

Now, when I ask for guest bloggers, I have NO IDEA what they’re going to write about. After all – this is their lives they’re writing about, not mine. So, I don’t give them parameters; how could I? Fact is fact is fact. I can’t deny someone’s interesting story just because it doesn’t fit some theme or reality I wish existed or didn’t, right? Even if their story is totally mortifying.

As is the case for our next blog.

(Disclaimer: this one ain’t for the faint of heart, or for those people that truly believe that “stuff like this” doesn’t actually happen. It does . . .)

“A peculiar event occurred to me last summer. After having a little more than ‘a few rounds’ with my friend at the bar, he suggested that we go hang out at the beach. Knowing that we were both nowhere near able to drive, we walked across the street to Denny's to grab some grub and attempt to sober up.

Two hours and three strawberry lemonades later, we decided we were good to go. At this point it was slightly after 3AM and we knew it would take us about 15 minutes to drive to the nearest beach. About halfway there my friend turns to me and says:

Friend: ‘Dude, I really gotta go to the bathroom.’
Me: ‘Why didn't you go before we left Denny's!? ‘
Friend: ‘Didn't have to go then.’
Me: *sigh* ‘Well, we are almost there so you'll just have to hold it.’
Friend: ‘Damn it...’

I can clearly see that my friend is struggling with his current situation, so I try to get to the beach parking lot as fast as I can. Unfortunately, finding parking isn't exactly easy and my friend is starting to lose his patience. When we finally see an open parking space and start to get closer to it, my friend tells me to just stop and let him out.

Me: ‘Wait, the parking space is right there!’
Friend: ‘Dude, just let me out.’
Me: ‘But, wher-‘
Friend: ‘JUST STOP THE CAR!’

I do as he says and he immediately runs for the nearest alleyway. I figure that while he's doing his business, I'll park the car. So, I eventually found a spot and pulled in between some white car and this old matte-brown junker from what looks like the late 70's. As I'm putting my car into ‘Park,’ I get the feeling that someone is watching me. So, I look to my left and notice that there is a police officer in full uniform sitting in the front passenger seat of the ugly brown car. He lock eyes with me and looks as though I’ve caught him doing something very wrong.

Over the course of the next few seconds, my heart starts racing and I run the emotional gamete of being confused and mildly curious. I’m wondering, "Why is there a police officer sitting in this ugly brown car? Why is he in the passenger seat? Why is he alon-" And right as I’m thinking that very question, a face POPS UP from the officers lap and is now starting at me as well.

The look of confusion on my face changed to an expression of surprise, disbelief, and mild horror. What was probably only two seconds, seemed like a good long minute of three of us just staring back and forth at each other. Eventually, the young lady, still hovering over the officers lap, gives me a little smirk and a wink before returning to whatever it was she was doing before I had interrupted. It was at that point that I finally broke eye contact with the officer who still had this look of terror on his face, put my car back into ‘Drive,’ and backed out as quickly as I could.

I parked near the entrance of the lot to meet my friend. As I got out of my car, I could hear another car door open and then slam shut. Against my better judgment, I looked back to see if it was who I thought it was, and it was indeed the officer. He was walking back to his police cruiser. The young lady then started up the ugly brown car, pulled out of her parking spot, and drove right past me towards the exit. She even blew me a kiss and waved as she passed me by.

I met up with my friend at and he could clearly tell by the look on my face that something had happened.

Friend: ‘You ok, dude? ‘
Me: ‘...I think I just witnessed a cop getting a freebie from a hooker in the parking lot.’
Friend: ‘Wait, what!? WHERE!?’
Me: ‘Over there where I parked, but they both left already. I think I killed the mood for him because they didn't stick around for very long after we made eye contact.’
Friend: ‘You killed the mood only for him?’
Me: ‘Well, the hooker... the hooker seemed oddly okay with it.’
Friend: ‘Yeah, you're probably right. Well, if it makes you feel better, I peed in front some dude who was smoking in the alley near me.’"

True story (from David Nazario).

Further proof that fact is better (and sometimes more disturbing) than fiction.

730 Project - November 17th

2011-11-18T13:22:00.000-05:00

Twitlight Night Two: New Moon

730 Project - 11.17.11. Steff. At home. Peanutbutter and banana open-faced sandwich on homemade blueberry beer bread.

It's a peanutbutter and ban . . . look, who cares?! THERE'S MORE TWILIGHT TO WATCH AND DISCUSS.

It was night two of my "Rewatch-the-Twilight-saga-and-tweet-live-my-every-thought."

It's Twitter and Twilight. It's Twitlight.

Some of the glorious little tweets from yours truly included . . .

7:08pm - "Jacob had a bit of a growth spurt from film 1 to film 2 eh? I always hoped for that. But I always left school at 5'2 and returned 5'2. Sigh."

7:12pm - "‎You give me everything just be breathing." Lines that make girls panties drop. Well played, Edward Cullen. Well played indeed."

7:17pm - "Vampires know how to throw birthday parties. Ive never walked down a flight of stairs to a crowd of beautiful people, candles, & indie pop."

7:22pm - "I've felt the deep desolation that Bella has, but crawling into a ball in the middle of the woods? At least walk home to your bed and do it!"

7:26pm - "FAVORITE SCENE: Bella watches the seasons pass as the months flash on the screen. As a writer I loved the way this happened in the book too."

8:06pm - "And now that Jacobs cut his hair I'm no longer thinking of him dressed as a woman. He's pretty buff, eh? I'm sorry what? So. Many. Muscles."

8:16pm - "Yeah, the "my wearwolf boyfriend attacked me and ripped my face off but says he won't do it again and I love him!" routine is a lil cliche."

8:32pm - "In all seriousness, I really love the character of Charlie Swan. I like him the way I liked Neville Longbottom of the Harry Potter series."

8:44pm - "I forgot how much I LOVE the way this Twilight movie ends. He demands: "Marry me, Bella." She gasps slightly. Cut to black. Fin. Just great."

8:46pm - "So night two of my Twitard-edness comes to an end and I realize: nope, there's still no sustenance to these movies but fuck are they fun."

Yes they are.

Click.

730 Project - November 16th

2011-11-17T21:00:00.000-05:00

Twilight

730 Project - 11.16.11. Steff. At home. Grilled avocado and tomato panini with Vegenaise on blueberry beer bread.

Yeah, okay, I ate smashed avocado and slices of tomato on some homemade blueberry beer bread. Blah blah blah. Who cares?! It's boring!. Whatever.

Let's talk about more important things: in preparation of "Breaking Dawn: Pt. 1" ('cause I'm like obvi a fan gurl of the Twilight series, duh!) coming out this weekend, I've decided to re-watch the three previous Twilight movies . . .

AND tweet my thoughts about each LIVE while I'm watching them. Raw, uncensored streaming Steffasaurus. Who WOULDN'T be interested?!?

Tonight was the first one: Twilight. And here are just some of my thoughts about it . . .

6:20pm - "Sitting down to watch Twilight. When I saw it the first time - I went alone to the movies. And was the oldest person by ten years. Creeper."

6:26pm - "You can hate on Twilight all you want - the soundtracks are always pretty well thought-out and awesome."

6:32pm - "Oh c'mon! When the Cullens walk into school for the first time?! Sexy. All of them."

6:45pm - "When the car almost smashes into Bella and Edward stops it? That intense moment when they're looking at each other? FAVORITE scene. Rewind."

7:03pm - "Dear boyfriend: should you ever want instant access to mah panties, please rescue me in an alleyway with your sweet volvo and sweeter hair."

7:10pm - "Any other late twenty-somethings find it super funny that the football jock from Can't Hardly Wait is the DAD in Twilight? Man, are we old."

7:16pm - "And this is the point when we realize that vampires sparkle. SPARKLE. Like, when they're cremated they become glitter on little kids art."

7:19pm - "Edward Cullen said: "And so the lion fell in love with the lamb. Bitches love lions.""

7:56pm - "Nothing disrupts a friendly baseball game like hungry non-vegetarian vampires."

8:02pm - "Are there any other straight girls out there who find Rosalie Cullen to be super flippin' hot? Seriously, her body and sass are luscious."

8:22pm - "Dear boys: dancing with a girl to an Iron and Wine song in a fairy light lit gazebo after you saved her life is romantic. Trust me."

Yep. You can follow along tomorrow night if you want!

Click.

730 Project - November 15th

2011-11-16T16:14:00.000-05:00

Cheap-o Fried Rice

730 Project - 11.15.11. Steff. At home. Homemade vegan fried rice (with pea pods, peas, chestnuts, and onions). Delish!

If you couldn't tell by the frequency in which I eat the same soups over and over again: my refrigerator and cupboards have been looking pretty slim lately. It seemed all I had was rice, Bragg's Liquid Aminos (veggie for "soy sauce"_, a can of water chestnuts, some frozen peas, and an onion that had been sitting in my veggie drawer for a mysteriously long time (along with some figs, frozen peanut butter cups, and a tremendous amount of curry powder).

My brain quickly did the math and I realized I had exactly what I needed to make fried rice (minus the figs, frozen peanut butter cups, and various curry powders). While this is something I'd never made before, I assumed it couldn't be that difficult.

Not having a lot of money, but wanting to make my rice even heartier, I went to the local farm stand and purchased eighty-three cents worth of snap peas (and that was at least three large handfuls worth!) and a head a garlic for sixty-seven cents (if there are two staples in your house you should ALWAYS have, it should be garlic and onions: they are the starters for nearly everything!), went home and created pretty decent vegan fried rice.

Ingredients
- Rice (1 to 1.5 cups)
- Olive oil (3 to 6 Tablespoonfuls)
- Garlic (3 cloves)
- Onion (1 small red one)
- Crushed red pepper (1 Tablespoon or less if you're a weeny, like me)
- Snow peas (as much as you want!)
- Frozen peas (go wild!)
- Chestnuts (you can never have enough!)
- Tamari or Bragg's (3 to 6 Tablespoonfuls)
(PLEASE NOTE: you can pretty much use whatever veg you've got in the house. Got a can of baby corn?! GO FOR IT! Some 'shrooms? I LOVE TRIPPING. Seriously, though . . . be creative!)

Directions
- Cook le rice.
- After le rice is cooked, spread it out on le baking tray (I did this because I thought if I didn't let it breathe, it might all clump up into one gooey, sticky mess).
- In a wok (if you have one) or an awesome "this'll work" kinda pan, heat some olive oil. Throw in the chopped garlic. After a few minutes, toss in the chopped onions. Make sure you stir, stir, stir. Don't stop stirring. JUST KEEP STIRRING. JUST KEEP STIRRING. JUST KEEP STIRRING, STIRRING, STIRRING. WHAT DO WE DO? WE STIR STIR STIR. Sing this. It'll help pass some time. Add crushed red pepper. STIR! Add your snow peas, frozen peas, and chestnuts. Stir until they're cooked through. And then STIR! some more. Squirt in some Bragg's. Guess what you're gonna do next? STIR! It will quickly thicken. Scrape your baking-tray rice into your pretend-wok. STIIIIIIRRRRRR. Taste. Add more of whatever you want. Stir. Eat. Love.

I'll be honest - this is dish is missing SOMETHING. Ginger, maybe? Another tangier spice? I'm not sure - if you make it, and you figure out what that extra "umph!" is that it's missing, lemme know. I'll give you a dollar.

Click.

730 Project - November 14th

2011-11-15T15:33:00.000-05:00

Random Thoughts from a Tired Grill

730 Project - 11.14.11. Steff (and not pictured: Mom). At Mom's house. Grilled avocado and cheese panini on olive bread with a side of chips and salsa. Boston Cream donut and strawberries for dessert.

Random thoughts from a tired grill:
In honor of it being National Guacamole Day, I threw some avocado on my panini. Segue . . .

I'm seriously contemplating altering next year's "365 Project" so that instead of it being just pictures of me at dinner every night, it's pictures of me eating the "National" food every day. How much more fun/hard work would that be? WHO'S INTERESTED?! EH?! It's never been done before (as far as I know). And who better to do it then me?!?!

(Besides, many of those "National Food Holidays" happen to be alcohol - like January 1st is apparently "National Bloody Mary" Day. And, I'm pretty sure there's a "National Espresso Day." So, really, it would only be difficult to do on like "National Roast Suckling Pig Day." Ack. Gag.)

My body is like Inception: I'm wearing an apple shirt. And underneath that is a tattoo of apple blossoms. SO MANY LAYERS!

I've realized this year that while I LOVE Boston Cream anything - I HAVE to eat strawberries at the same time. I can eat strawberries on their own. But I can't eat Boston Cream anything on it's own. Very weird.

ITSALREADYTHANKSGIVINGTIMEZ. When did that happen?
(becausefuckdudeitstillfeelsapril.)

I think I need to start working on the next book already. It's had plenty of time to marinate in my brain and it's about time to breathe some life into this idea. After all, a writer isn't a writer unless they write. AM I RIGHT?!

What did you eat tonight, and what were your random thoughts?

Click.

730 Project - November 13th

2011-11-14T14:01:00.000-05:00

Sunday: The Day of Rest

730 Project - 11.13.11. Steff. At home. Lentil coconut curry with butternut squash.

Why the pout?

Woke up incredibly late (as in: went to bed when it was dark out, woke up when it was dark out - missing all of the sunshine I assume there was).

Spent the rest of the day on the couch with a heat pad on my knee (randomly sprinting through the city on Friday night wasn't my best choice, obviously, but parking is a nightmare on a weekend night and I needed to relocate).

Ate my weight in blueberry beer bread (seriously: half the loaf!: each slice topped with "butter," and raspberry jam or strawberry-rhubarb jam).

Wasted the entire day being unproductive (though I did watch three indie films, all of which were very, very good).

That's the reason for the mega-pout.

What did you eat on your Sunday?

Click.

730 Project - November 12th

2011-11-14T10:26:00.000-05:00

The Two Absolute Certainties

730 Project - 11.12.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Jeffrey's house (in Portland, ME). Micucci's Sicilian Slabs and sfogliatelle for dessert.

In the past two years The Photographer and I have discovered that whenever we're in a hurry there are two absolute certainties we can bank on:
1. The place we're at (despite being dead upon arrival) will always get 100% more busy
2. We will always (unknowingly) get the slowest employee

Today, we needed to be at the Mall (which is maybe ten or fifteen minutes away) for 1:15pm. Knowing we would be busy all afternoon, we thought it would be best if we stopped for a slice of pizza - after all, among other things we know about ourselves after this much time together, we both get a little bitchy when we're hungry. So, we thought we'd treat ourselves to a Sicilian Slab at Micucci's (in all the countries I've lived in, all of the places I've traveled, this particular food item might be one of my all time favorites) and an Italian pastry.

When we arrived, there was one person too many in the store. A tray of Sicilian Slabs makes about eight slices of pizza. When we got to the counter, there was one piece remaining until the next round came out - in fifteen minutes. The Photographer and I looked at each other dejectedly. If we had just arrived a few minutes beforehand, walked a little faster around other customers also speedily making their way to the pizza counter, then we would've been able to grab two slices and not have to wait for the next round. A large queue quickly formed behind us - others waiting for their slab. "There's one here, if any of you just need one." I said, allowing a man immediately behind us to come and grab it.

And so we waited.

And waited.

And (more than) fifteen minutes later, we grabbed our two slabs and hurried to the cash register to pay for them: where suddenly both cash registers had twenty or so people waiting in line to cash out. We picked a random line . . . and watched as the other cash register checked people out quickly - people who were behind us in line for the slabs were cashed out long before we were, because we chose the line with the very elderly, near-deaf Italian woman who wanted to talk to each person about their families.

We left the store at 1:16pm.

We got to the mall at 1:20pm.
(Did I mention it takes anywhere from ten to fifteen minutes to get to the mall from where we were?)

In the past two years The Photographer and I have discovered that whenever we're in a hurry there are two other guarantees we can look forward to:
1. The Photographer will keep his cool, while I'll come completely unraveled in a ball of stress ("This was a huge mistake. THIS WAS A HUGE MISTAKE. We should just drop the pizza and leave, we're gonna be late!" chanted I, my blood pressure elevating.)
2. Despite running VERY late, with my awesome (maniacal) driving skills we somehow still manage to get to where we need to be only a few minutes past (this is when The Photographer's blood pressure rises, as he sits, closed-eyed, and prays for his safety).

Click.

730 Project - November 11th

2011-11-13T18:13:00.001-05:00

Five-Star Reviews

730 Project - 11.11.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. On Fore St. in Portland, ME. Hella Good Taco's soyrizo burrito's extra spicy.

As a struggling artist, my heart bleeds for other's like me. People who are wholly invested and entirely passionate about their artistic craft whether that's writing, photography, pottery, or even culinary arts.

It's a strange feeling when you believe so deeply in another's dream, too. When you would give anything - if you had it - to see them succeed, or even when you feel personally affronted when the universe deals them an unfair hand.

While I have no investment in Hella Good Tacos, I so desperately want good things to happen for Josh, the man who runs this authentic burrito stand. The Photographer and I were thrilled when we discovered his thoughtfully-crafted food in June of this year, and have been some of his biggest champions since.

At the beginning of their careers, small businesses like Josh's "Hella Good Tacos," partially depend on free marketing like word of mouth and websites that encourage consumers to write reviews on restaurants, experiences, etc. But when those sites revoke reviews they, essentially, are DENYING those businesses that need them the ability to grow. And that isn't fair, is it? We found out that a review site that claims they have "real reviews by real people" removed all of reviews off of Hella Good Taco's page, because it seemed "suspicious." Apparently our world really is so dark and so jaded that it's impossible for a company to receive several five-star reviews. As a result, this site assumed that the company was rigging the reviews and have now disallowed most of them from showing up (including mine).

It's disgusting and disheartening.
(So why bother trusting these internet review sites if they can't trust you?)
((Which is the point?))

The Photographer will continue to be Hella Good apostles, though, in hopes that one day Josh has his own restaurant, one that we would frequent and call our own.

Click.

730 Project - November 10th

2011-11-11T15:41:00.002-05:00

The Subtleties of Branding

730 Project - 11.10.11. Steff. At home. BRANDOMANIA! Tofutti Pizza Pizzaz with a side of Kettle Brand "Tias!: Salsa Picante" chips, Jack Daniels BBQ sauce to dip my crust in, and a Coke Zero to wash it all down.

I'm sure it's pretty vague, but there's a few hidden messages in here regarding certain brands I enjoy. After all, it's difficult being dairy free and loving it, or having a great taste . . . naturally, when it's made as our fathers made it, because I'm smexy and I enjoy everything.

I obviously just tried to keep it all as subtle as possible.

Actually, it's a little like "LOGORAMA", isn't it?
(Seriously, watch the above short film - it won an Oscar.)
((It wasn't the one I wanted to win at the time, but it's still clever, nevertheless.))

Click.

*DISCLOSURE POLICY: This is not a paid insertion. All opinions expressed in this post regarding the product are my own experiences and personal observations. No monetary or any other form of compensation was received.*

730 Project - November 9th

2011-11-10T15:52:00.001-05:00

Dear Food Network and Ms. Deen: I can make anything better than you.

730 Project - 11.09.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Cornbread casserole (with Gardein's "Seven Grain Crispy Tenders," a Maine blueberry BBQ sauce, and Daiya's Pepperjack "Cheeze") and a side of cranberry sauce.

Dear Food Network,

I have both veganized and perfected a recipe originally made by Paula Dean entitled "BBQ Chicken in Cornbread Cups."

Mine was made with compassion.
It was a far more sustainable dish.
And it's way, way more healthy.

All without losing any of the flavor she claims can't be had without a bathtub of fat ("Y'all critics always sayin', 'Oh that Paula uses too much butter. It's bad for your body.' Well honey, I say that if something is making you say 'yum' and it makes your tummy happy, then it ain't bad for you. Butter is just a little stick of smiles and happiness." BLECH.)

Well, Ms. Deen, I made your dish.

And I made it better!

After this epic win of the ages, I got just one thing to say to the Food Network: anything you can make, I can make better. I can make anything better than you!

No, you can't.

Yes, I can . . . watch me.

(Coming soon to a YouTube near you!: my own personal cooking show. Where I take dishes from Food Network, my childhood, or wherever . . . and make them better [vegan and beautiful]).

Motherflippin click.

730 Project - November 8th

2011-11-09T16:02:00.001-05:00

The Key to F'AWESOME Taters Avec Le Graveh

730 Project - 11.08.11. Steff. At home. Mashed potatoes and gravy with a side of cranberry sauce. Red wine and chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

Lemme tell you how to make F'AWESOME mashed potatoes with gravy:

Le Mashed Taters
- Boil potatoes
- Drain potatoes after their boiled
- Mash potatoes
- Add VEGENAISE (if you don't speak vegetarian, that's "mayo")
- Add EARTH BALANCE (vegetarian speak for "buttah," which is Maine speak for "butter")
- Add Salt and Pepper
- Tell the smashed-up potatoes to wait patiently while you make . . .

Le Grav-eh
- Melt some Earth Balance in a pot.
- Whisk in some flour.
- Squirt in some Bragg's Liquid Aminos (veg-lingo for "soy sauce")
- Add some water until it's the consistency you like.
- Add Salt and Pepper
- Pour onto top of Le Mashed Taters.

FORK. EAT. LOVE.

OYE! This entire meal cost me . . . (wait, what's the "less than" sign? It's: <, right? I wish I had paid more attention in school regarding math, especially when it comes to this stuff and motherflippin' fractions) . . . the entire meal cost me <$3. I AM A GROCERY SHOPPIN' ROCKSTAR.What'd you have for dinner, and did it cost < mine?!Click.

730 Project - November 7th

2011-11-08T15:32:00.000-05:00

Lasagna Realities

730 Project - 11.07.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Lasagna, roasted asparagus, and toasted rosemary-pepper bread.

"Your perception is your reality," may just be my least favorite cliche of them all.

But sometimes . . . ain't it the truth?

As my mom fed me (which she graciously does every Monday night) she told me she had finally perfected her lasagna recipe. "Wait . . . was there something wrong with it the last time we had it? 'Cause it seemed pretty fricken' spot on to me. What was wrong with it? ARE YOU CRAZY?! You must be crazy. There was nothing wrong with it," said I while shoveling in forkfuls of the pasta into my mouth.

"If the first thing you taste is the tomato sauce, then you haven't made your lasagna right. All I could taste was the tomato sauce last time. It was disgusting. The whole thing was a disaster. But, I think I've got it down this time."

I looked up at her in bewilderment. The last time she made lasagna not only did I devour everything on my plate, but I also chowed down on a second serving, the uneaten bits on my boyfriend's plate, the uneaten bits on her plate, leftovers the next day, and the crunchy crusts bits she wanted to throw away (but I convinced her to let me snack on). "You're crazy," said I again, digging into her lasagna once again.

Her perception of the reality of her lasagna? Off.

Just ask'ah mah hips.

So, hey, what did you have for dinner (and did you think it sucked while others around you inhaled it like little piggies because it was so fanfuckin'tastic?)?

Click.

730 Project - November 6th

2011-11-07T16:11:00.000-05:00

My Freezer's Looking Bleak

730 Project - 11.06.11. Steff. At home. Butternut squash, kale, kalamata olive, and white bean stew.

Dear Freezer,

I keep thinking that maybe the next time I open you, you will have magically produced a multitude of divine tasting dishes ready for me to (de)thaw and enjoy.

Instead, every time I open it I find my stock of soups made this summer slowly depleting.

I am unimpressed with you, Mr. Freezer.

With disdain,
Steffasaurus Smex

I need to bring back the "themed" journals that made me an internet celebrity 'lo those many years ago on Ye Olde Red Vs. Blue. I mean, c'mon, how cool would it be to have "Childhood Supper Saturday" where I recreate a dish from my (or your!) childhood all veganified?!

Hunh? HUNH?!

It's gonna be great.

Anyway, please tell me what you had for dinner was better than this!

Click.

2011-11-06T15:58:00.000-05:00

A Photographer and Writer Celebrate Their Second Anniversary!

730 Project - 11.05.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Local Sprouts (in Portland, ME). Coffee and Vegan "Love" Cookies for our Second Anniversary.

The Photographer and I decided to celebrate our second year anniversary together in true "us" style: we had a lie-in, followed by some snuggle-time while watching our new favorite TV show, walked down to the Public Market to buy some soup and coffee, went back to his place for more snuggle-time while watching more of our new favorite TV show, went to dinner at a place we had a Groupon for, drove back to his house so that we could walk to the cafe around the corner for coffee and cookies, and finished the night with more snuggle-time while continuing our TV marathon.

It was very us.

During the night, The Photographer asked, "So, in the past two years, what's been your favorite dinner?"

It was a very thought-provoking question, so I hesitated before answering. "I don't know. Honestly, there've been so many good ones, y'know? Probably the time you cooked, though, if I had to pick just one. It wasn't very good, but I was incredibly moved that you at least tried. Oh! The first time we made the Brussels sprouts with cream! I loved that! And I know you loved the potato-leek-cheesy-death pizza we made that I'll never make again. More recently, I think we both fell in love with that corn bread, fake chicken, cheese, and and BBQ sauce casserole. But, I don't know. That's a hard question. I think I'll stick with the time you cooked. What about you? What was your favorite?"

He smiled warmly, took my hand and said genuinely, "Every time I get to eat dinner with you is my favorite, Steff. Doesn't matter where. Doesn't matter what. As long as I'm with you."

This is me still swooning after two years.

Happy Anniversary to us.

Click.

730 Project - November 4th

2011-11-06T00:48:00.001-04:00

First Friday

730 Project - 11.04.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Otto's (in Portland, ME). Jeffrey: ricotta, tomato, and basil; Steff: mushroom and cauliflower.

Portland, Maine's First Friday Art Walk is something The Photographer and I have always tried to attend throughout our relationship. It's a great way to explore the city we love, as well as support fellow artists in their endeavors.

In general we hit very specific galleries during the monthly Art Walks. Lately, it feels like some of our favorite locales seem uninspired. So, tonight we decided that we needed to go somewhere we had never gone in our travels and hopefully see something we'd never seen.

We ended up finding a few new spots. One was a library neither one of us knew existed. It was on the second floor of this otherwise deceivingly boring looking building we've both passed a thousand times. We were informed that Paul Revere had created a library in Boston specifically for blue collar folks to go to educate themselves. The library in Portland was the second one of its kind open, and only has non-fiction and history books. To this day, that's all they carry. And upstairs from the library used to be a grand ballroom (unfortunately, it's since been changed to a photography studio). Absolutely fascinating stuff we never knew about.

We also discovered an art gallery above a flower shop that had wood cuttings by an artist named Blue Butterfield. Sipping chai, we fell in love with both the studio and this particular artist who seemed to capture the state of Maine like few else have in their (artistic) crafts. I fell in love with a particular one entitled "Picking Cortlands" (shocker, right?): it featured a family picking apples from a giant tree, but the focus of the cutting was on a large, filled apple crate. I will someday own a print of that wood cutting. Unfortunately, I couldn't an image of it to share here, but I did find this one . . . possibly my favorite thing about Portland is the way it's illuminated throughout the holiday season by the lights they wrap around all the trees (captured almost perfectly here):

November Art Walk: you done us well this time around.

(Kicked-off, of course, with a slice of Ottos.)
((Hello, lover, it's been a while.))

Click.

730 Project - November 3rd

2011-11-04T16:10:00.000-04:00

Fail Night

730 Project - 11.03.11. Steff. At home. Potato-leek soup and a side of peas.

I would like to apologize for the boringness of tonight's dinner.
(I'm sure it seems unexciting [more leftover soup] and random [peas? yes, peas.])

But you're looking at one sick, little girl.

ALL I wanted was "chick'n" fingers and mashed potatoes. I went to the store to purchase said craved items. And they had no "chick'n" fingers in stock. I left empty-handed (because, doggone it, if I couldn't have EXACTLY what I wanted, then I didn't want anything at all! HUMPH!).

Here's hoping tomorrow night's dinner is better for the both of us,
Steffasaurus Smex

What the heck did you have for dinner, anyway? Was it better than mah peaz?

I doubt it.

730 Project - November 2nd (Happy 27th Birthday to me!)

2011-11-03T19:43:00.000-04:00

A Day in the Life of Steff

730 Project - 11.02.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. A giant tray of homemade nachos (tortilla chips, cheese, tomatoes, homemade guacamole, jalapenos, salsa, and sour cream). For dessert? Boston cream pie with a side of strawberries. Happy 27th Birthday to me!

- Woke up peacefully around 10am, feeling more relaxed than I had in two years.
- Received a call at 10:02am from tattoo artist about scheduling my touch-ups.
- Snuggled with The Photographer for a half hour.
- Put on my favorite (and only) designer top by Dries Van Noten that I purchased at some very swanky clothing store in London, along with my blue topaz earrings and necklace that I got from Mexico, and of course my sweet flatcap that I stole from my Newcastle Girl outfit.
- Went to the grocery store to buy my mom a "BirthING Day" gift.
- Had the most amazing Chinese food with Mom for my birthday lunch.
- Spent hours with my Mom looking through baby/childhood stuff.
- Found serious validation that I was born to be a writer.
- Went home where The Photographer made me cry repeatedly with his thoughtful gifts and their accompanying notes.
- Asked The Photographer to walk me through said gifts and accompanying notes a second time so I could take it all in.
- Went to the liquor store. Ogled "Cookie Dough" (in lust) flavored vodka. Didn't buy anything.
- Went back to the grocery store.
- Went to the liquor store. Ogled (in disgust) "Swedish Fish" flavored vodka. Bought malbec.
- Came home and made enough nachos to feed the country of Canada.
- Ate all of the nachos as just two people.
- Never regretted a moment.
- Snuggled with The Photographer some more.
- Forced him to eat a giant slice of Boston cream pie with me, even though he was convinced he didn't like Boston cream pie. He loved the Boston cream pie. Don't let him fool you.
- Talked to my sister who lives in Canada (didn't tell her I robbed her country of their nachos).
- Had a visit from my old friend, Jack (Daniels).
- Went to bed just as relaxed as when I woke up.

I can do this twenty-seven year old thing.

Click.

730 Project - November 1st

2011-11-03T15:17:00.001-04:00

World Vegan Day

730 Project - 11.01.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Chinese cabbage and tofu soup for World Vegan Day!

It's weird to be eating something that resembles chicken so much on World Vegan Day.

But that's the fun thing about tofu - it is extremely malleable. Depending on how it's cooked it can take on different textures and tastes. Yes, when done badly it can be bland and slimy - which is why I think most people don't like it or feel strongly about it. They're under the assumption that that's how it always is. The Photographer was an avid tofu-hater before he met me. But in the many different ways I've prepared it for him (like egg salad, like scrambled eggs, as a cheese replacement in lasagna, smashed for tacos) he's grown to really appreciate it.

And tonight? Because it had been frozen in a soup, it had the texture of chicken after being thawed and reheated; so much so that it disturbed The Photographer (who's favorite food pre-Veggiedom was poultry). He kept looking at me and saying between (giant) mouthfuls, "I feel really guilty eating this on National Vegan Day." *slurp* "But I know it's vegan." *slurp* "So . . ." *slurp* "I'm confused." *slurp* "And it's so good." *slurp* "And it's vegan!" *slurp* "Are you sure it's vegan?" *slurp* "It's so good!"

That pretty much sums up our dinner conversation.

Really, though: please consider a vegetarian lifestyle. Even if you can't commit fully, participate in Meatless Mondays (which a lot of restaurants now partake in). Or try giving up those foods once or twice a month. Remember: a vegetarian diet is the more compassionate, more sustainable, and more healthy way of eating.

Click.

"It's a giant and long cliche . . .

2011-11-01T23:08:00.004-04:00

. . . and that's why I want you to sing it anyway.
Sing me happy birthday!
'Cause hell, what's it all about?"

Twenty-seven can't be that bad . . . right?

730 Project - October 31st

2011-11-01T15:35:00.001-04:00

Hallomas/Christmaween

730 Project - 10.31.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Leftover enchiladas with guac and a ginormous helping of Mexican brownie dessert.

When I was little Halloween used to be one of my favorite holidays for three reasons:
1. I got to play dress-up
(although, don't be fooled: I went as a cat for, like, six years in a row.)
((and then, in my twenties it was an excuse to dress like hooker.))
2. I got to eat as much friggen' candy as I wanted
(which is cool when you're a kid, but not so much fun when you're an adult and your metabolism hates you and every bite of chocolate is another inch of cellulite on your thighs.)
3. It was the start of my birthday celebration
(which wasn't until two days later, but when you're a smart kid you milk it for as long as you can, and since I saw most of my relatives

- Now, I didn't dress up this year or last.
(Why bother? My mom made a bet with me when I was little that if I could go trick-or-treating until I was thirty she'd give me $50. At age twenty-five she begged me to stop, waving the white flag of a Jackson and a Lincoln in my face. When I balked, she explained that because of deflation and the dollar not being worth as much, $25 was the new $50. Whatevs - it was money, and I won the bet in the end, anyway.)

- I didn't eat much candy this year or last.
(It's hard to shove fistfuls of processed, sugary crap in your face when you eat a pretty strict vegetarian diet. It's sad, but true.)

- And my birthday celebrations were really limited to my actual birthday this year and last.
(Who wants to celebrate getting older for three days?!)

What made this Halloween vastly different from last Halloween?

While they were both my first "adult" Halloween sans-kids, last year I spent the day totally alone. And this year, I got to be a big MamaTataHead.

Who needs candy and costumes when I can haz momma lub?!

P.S.
Besides, who wants to celebrate Halloween when meteorologically it feels more like Christmas anyway?

Click.

Maybe It's Me: Reset and Restart, or, How a Duck and Frappacino Started It All

2011-11-01T12:52:00.003-04:00

Maybe it’s me, but it’s interesting how immature we can be about age.

When we’re younger, we so desperately want to be older that we tick away the time every chance we get: we aren’t seven years old, we’re seven and a half years old, or seven and three-quarters years old. Without realizing it, this simple, naive act of marking time by the desire to be as old as we possibly can be every day prevents us from truly reveling in the innocence and freedom that only comes with youth.

Which is something we’ll wish we would have done more of when were grown-up and looking back.

And when we’re older, we so desperately want to be younger that we blatantly lie to others and to ourselves about “how old we are,” we make self-degrading comments about “showing our age,” we use synthetically made chemicals in and on our body to “reverse the aging effect.” Why? With age comes experience, knowledge, confidence, and skills. Why are we denying ourselves those earned rights?

After all, it’s everything we hope for when we’re growing-up and looking forward.

It’s the curse of humanity, right? No matter where we are, we’re never happy.

But we can be content.

Which, for all the turmoil bubbling just beneath the surface as I celebrate another birthday, I am at this point in my life. Content. I don’t necessarily want to be as old as I am, yet I have no interest in being too much younger. I feel as though I’m beautifully caught between two distinct moments in my life; and, while it’s a disruptive, conflicting feeling (am I too old to be enjoying this? I’m too young to feel this way already!), I’ll take it. I’d rather feel this struggle, then one of wanting and not having (youth) or of having and not wanting (seniority).

I like that in one breath I can still be moved by childlike wonder, and in the next am incredibly grateful for foresight and just “knowing better,” both of which only really come with age. But I’m also cognizant of the fact that I don’t know everything. While I feel like I’ve come into my own, understanding both myself and my world better than I did five years ago, I know that in five years from now I’ll look back and think, “I had no idea what I was talking about then.”

Which is an okay place to be in life, I suppose: somewhere between here and there.

Birthdays have always profoundly affected me.

Like New Years Eve, for me birthday they are a time to think about and absorb the previous year of life and the year to come. Am I who I want to be? Am I doing what I was created to? Do I honor my childhood the way I should? Do I acknowledge and appreciate the life I’m currently living? Do I look ahead at a future that doesn’t exist in fear or excitement?

Birthdays are a time to reset and restart.

And think.

It’s an interesting time to be alive, both with the state of the world and turning this particular “late” twenty-something age. I’ve never been a middle-of-the-road kind of girl. Not with my opinions, not with my emotions, not with my wants. I’ve always felt strongly one way or another.

And lately, I’m caught.

I want to be sad by this birthday. And while I’m unsettled by it, there’s also a feeling of indifference, too. I can’t stop aging – getting older is totally, totally inevitable. Nothing I could have done would have prevented this from happening. Yes, it’s a major disappointment to see my age climb further and further up. But, I’m thankful to be seeing it climbing at all. Another year that passes means another year I was able to live and love and laugh and be.

Part of the awkward feeling from this birthday may stem from the fact that I look almost exactly like I did ten years ago. This isn’t a bad thing at all! But it’s psychologically confusing at times for me to process fully. What I see and what I feel are beginning to be detached from each other. When I look in the mirror I see a bright-eyed college-aged kid; what I physically feel most of the time is a body that doesn’t quite perform, react, or heal the way it used to.

My “clock” certainly isn’t ticking, but after having been invited to ten weddings over the course of the past year along with multiple baby showers, I do feel at odds with myself. I currently have no desire to be someone’s wife or mother, and yet I feel like I’m supposed to feel like I should. What’s so wrong with wanting as much me-time as possible before giving that up? I don’t think there’s anything selfish about wanting to be the most healthy, happy, comfortable version of myself that I can offer another person. But, to be honest, most of this also stems from the fact that I’m now officially older than my mom was when she had me – her first born. She’s now been a parent more than half her life. Something about this resonates deep in my bones, the recesses of my mind, and the furthest corners of my heart. It’s the biggest reminder I think of how much older I’m getting.

Ten years ago, my mom introduced me to the arts and historical district of my now favorite city in the country. Despite being a late-teen, she bought me this bright yellow stuffed duck that had webbed feet bigger than my own hands (this made me laugh) from the indie toy store that specialized in book-related playthings. In complete contrast, she also purchased for me my very first specialty coffee drink - a venti caramel frappacino. And so I stood in the middle of the cobble-stoned streets, big giant sobs of frustration racking my body, while one arm clutched the duck close to my torso, the other hand gripped around the frappucino. And I wondered . . .

Who was I?

What was I gonna do with my life?

How did my childhood slip away so fast?

Where would I be in ten years?

Despite its simplicity, it remains a very poignant moment in my existence, where the little kid clashed with the adult in me (for the first of many, many times might I add).

Since that moment in time, every year I think I know who I am (I'm closer now to that answer). Every year I know what I want to do with my life and try as hard as I can to achieve it (I'm closer to that now, too). And every year I wonder how the previous year slipped away so fast (I'll never be closer to understanding that).

But where would I be in ten years? I know that answer now with absolute certainty. Because where I would be in ten years is here. The girl . . . woman . . . I am now, writing about strong emotions towards yet another birthday.

I still have that stuffed, yellow duck. He's not as brightly colored anymore, but his webbed feet are still bigger than my hands and that still makes me giggle.

Specialty coffee drinks have continued to make me entirely weak in the knees (they've also become far harder to work off my hips).

And my significant other comes from that very part of the city I love where I wept unabashedly in confliction in 'lo those many years ago (and when we walk hand-in-hand through those same streets it's as if I get a private screening to the evolution of my own life).

The point is that I made it through that tumultuous teen year. Somehow ten years has suddenly slipped past, and I'll make it through this birthday, too (however unsettling or indifferent I may feel about it). And will, once again, reset and restart from here: honoring the childhood I had, appreciating fully the life I'm living now, and looking ahead at a future that intrigues me.

And when it's all said and done, I can confidently say with childlike wonder: I'm content with how old . . . how young? . . . I am in this moment.

730 Project - October 30th

2011-10-31T14:38:00.001-04:00

Birfday Dinner, Round 1

730 Project - 10.30.11. Steff, Jeffrey Remick (and not pictured: Mom and Wayne, my step-dad). At Mom's house. Rice and bean enchiladas topped with homemade guacamole, salsa, and more cheese with a side of tortilla chips. Birthday dessert?: Mexican brownies topped with Maine strawberries, whipped cream, and crushed churros.

After twenty-six years and three hundred and sixty-two days my mom knows me pretty well.

After wolfing down my two enchiladas and tortilla chips, my eyes flickered to the kitchen counter to get round two. Seeing this my mother, in a booming voice, said, "YOU MUST WAIT TWENTY MINUTES. IF YOU'RE STILL HUNGRY IN TWENTY MINUTES YOU CAN HAVE MORE."

I looked at the big meanie. "Are you kidding me?"

My mother replied, "No. Rice and beans expand. Give it time to settle."

"You are underestimating my ability to eat, woman." I grumpily responded as I began watching the clock slowly tick away the long moments.

Twenty minutes later "round two" ended up being nothing more than just a few chips with salsa, because wouldn't you know the rice and beans had expanded in my belly making me feel way fuller than I had only a few minutes earlier as predicted by my mother.

Clever girl.

(Man, I hate being wrong.)

So what'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 29th

2011-10-30T13:24:00.000-04:00

My Most Autumnal Meal

730 Project - 10.29.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Butternut squash and apple cider soup with Shipyard Pumpkinhead bread topped with pumpkin butter.

This might be the most autumnal meal I've ever made.

The flavors of the roasted butternut squash, fresh apple cider, and pumpkin beer complimented each other for an explosion of deliciously balanced flavors. If there was anyway to celebrate a season, this meal was definitely it.

And it was easy . . .

For the soup:
Ingredients
- an onion
- butter
- a small butternut squash
- veggie broth
- a little ginger
- apple cider
- crushed red pepper
- salt and pepper to taste
- love

Directions
- In a pan saute diced onions in butter until translucent. Add butternut squash and veggie stock until just covered. Grate a teaspoon or so of ginger. Boil until squash is tender. Puree in blender, adding apple cider until consistency of your choice, and crushed red pepper, salt, pepper, and love to taste. Enjoy!

For the bread:
Ingredients
- three cups of flour
- four teaspoons of baking soda
- three to four Tablespoons of sugar
- a dash of a salt
- a bottle of pumpkin-flavored beer
(I was told that Shipyard's was "the most pumpkin-y"
- SECRET INGREDIENT: add a dash of clove, nutmeg, and cinnamon

Directions
- Mix it all up.
- Bake it in a greased loaf pan at 350 degrees for forty-five minutes to an hour.
- Eat with Earth Balance, pumpkin butter, or apple butter (or all three if you're a piglet like me)

You can all thank me later!

So what'd you eat tonight?

730 Project - October 28th

2011-10-28T23:48:00.001-04:00

Cravings and Wild Card Winners

730 Project - 10.28.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Spinach pasta with arrabbiata sauce and mock "meat"balls.

Sometimes when cravings hit, they hit really hard.

And when they do they can be entirely all-consuming.

Tonight, while in the grocery store at 9:15pm picking up little necessities so that we might hunker down for tomorrow's predicted pseudo Nor'Easter (in October?! REALLY?!), I realized that I NEEDED SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS. The Photographer tried to ask me questions about other things (orange juice? soy creamer? did we need avocados? what kind of chips did I want?), but all I heard was SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS. And so I charged around the market looking for those exact items. Then drove home like a maniac to start the very late-night dinner. Showered like I was on speed while the water boiled.

Then inhaled my food in what seemed like a single breath.

I would love to tell you about how delicious this was, but I can't.

Because I can't really remember tasting the food.

Anyway, the craving demon has been satiated (for now) and all is well in my world.

Also: congrats to my Mom, who's favorite team (behind the Boston Red Sox), the St. Louis Cardinals, won the World Series tonight as a Wild Card. In her words, "I was 9 when they beat the Red Sox in the '67 Series and I fell in love with them. I was so nervous to tell my dad, but he said, 'It's okay - they're in the National League!' And that was that. They won again in '82 and they won seven weeks after Dad died. Now tonight. I are happy."

I are happy, too.

So, what'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 27th

2011-10-28T16:17:00.000-04:00

Dinner Options as an Adult

730 Project - 10.27.11. Steff. At home. Tortilla chips with salsa and homemade guacamole.

Things that suck about being an adult: bills, not having health insurance, the awkwardness that is making new friends, work, responsibility, ownership, getting older and having your boobs sag, death, and did I mention bills?

One thing that doesn't have to suck though is making dinner. Sure, sometimes it takes a tremendous amount of energy to plan, prep, and produce (more so if you've got serious dietary restrictions, because you can't simply go to any restaurant and just grab whatever you want - it just isn't that easy for some of us).

And sometimes "dinner" as an adult is awesome, because you can do what I did tonight.

Say "fuck it," and eat Dollar Store chips and salsa.

It's what I was craving, so obviously my body needed something I wasn't giving it.

Was it nutritious? Maybe not the best thing I've eaten recently.

But was it delicious? OHHELLZYEAHITWAS.

So what'd you have for dinner?

Click.

730 Project - October 26th

2011-10-27T16:12:00.000-04:00

A (Snowy?) National Pumpkin Day

730 Project - 10.26.11. Steff. At home. Cucumber sandwich on multigrain bread, roasted pumpkin seeds, and grapes.

Today is National Pumpkin Day! And in celebration of that, I ate my weight in pumpkin seeds. And Halloween Oreo's that had pumpkins on them, obviously. If I had time, I would've made a chocolate pumpkin pie (if you make it before me, please let me know how it is! I plan on making one soon, though - perhaps I can morph my culinary obsession with apple dumplings into chocolate pumpkin pie for November).

I am fighting hard to preserve those final Halloween-esque/autumnal feelings before the snow rolls in. Yes . . . you read that right. They're predicting snow in our area in the next few days.

SNOW BEFORE HALLOWEEN?! That just isn't right.

Poutfully yours,
A cold Steffasaurus Smex

So what'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 25th

2011-10-26T12:30:00.001-04:00

Maine in Autumn

730 Project - 10.25.11. Steff. At Wallingford's (in Auburn, ME). An apple dumpling with vanilla sauce.

It's no secret that Wallingford's apple orchard is one of my favorite spots in the entire world (and I've traveled to some beautiful places). Unfortunately, it's changed over the years. Lost it's rustic simplicity and warmth, and has become a seriously over-commercialized at the hands of the new owners. When I take people I encourage them to ignore all the brightly-colored, out-of-place, money-making gimmicks they see and just focus on the apple orchard itself.

When I was seventeen I started going to Wallingford's once a week from the time they were open (a little after Labor Day) to the time they closed (right around the beginning of November) to treat myself to the flavors of autumn I loved best. Now, they're open earlier (early August) and stay open later (Christmas), and the uniqueness of their availability has been lost.

To keep tradition alive and to continue to make Wallingford's be the special place it always was (sans the sensory-overload and unnecessary clutter they now have on their lawn and in their store), I probably will stop going within in the next week or so. I will have made it to the orchard roughly a dozen times this year. I ate my weight in apple dumplings with vanilla sauce, apple squares, apple ciders. The staff came to know me as the girl with the apple blossom tattoo. I strolled lazily through the orchard picking apples here and there. I climbed trees with the love of my days and stole kisses in the top branches. It rained, it was cold, it was humid, it was Maine weather in autumn.

September through December are my favorite months to be alive. No matter how dark or hostile the rest of the year may seem, if I can make it to these last four months then I'm good. It's like everyone realizes how fast the year's gone by and suddenly remembers to slow down just a little bit, breathe in the season, and just enjoy being alive. For me, it starts with the explosion of color on the trees and the focus on the last harvest of the season, segues to another birthday gone and my favorite holiday of the year: Thanksgiving, and ends with the first of the glittery-like-diamond snowfall and the celebration of the birth of a King.

No matter what happened yesterday, no matter what happens tomorrow, today I give a grateful prayer and have thankful heart.

Click.

730 Project - October 24th

2011-10-25T19:09:00.000-04:00

Fuzzy on the good and bad.

730 Project - 10.24.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Pasta with alfredo sauce, black beans, topped with a rosemary and hot garlic oil bread crumb, and a side of cranberry sauce to boot! AND MORE OF MOM'S CHOCOLATE PUDDING.

Tonight's meal went down easy.

A little too easy.

While not usually a huge alfredo sauce fan, my mom talked me into this dish promising that there were so many other flavors and textures going on that I wouldn't be distracted by the stuff. And she was right - who would've thought to put beans in something like this (don't you think putting frijoles negros in an Italian pasta dish like this is a little like crossing the streams?)?

And, here's a little fact about me you probably didn't know: I'm a slut for cranberry sauce.

Oooh, babeh.

Anyway - dishes like this prove that all it takes is a little creativity to not only reinvent the same dish over and over (instead of black beans, use white beans; instead of rosemary and hot garlic oil bread crumbs, use a cranberry and walnut bread crumb) keeping things exciting and new, but it also shows how easy it is to make a little out of a lot. Which is something we could all learn to do better in these times.

So, what'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 23rd

2011-10-24T11:58:00.005-04:00

Gourd Guts

730 Project - 10.23.11. Steff. At home. Kale-white bean-olive-and butternut squash stew with a side of the much coveted tray of annual roasted pumpkin seeds.

Every October I disembowel my pumpkin friends to breathe new life into them as jack-o-lanterns and so that I may eat their guts.

Literally.

My roasted pumpkin seeds are something of a treat (and there's no trick to making them at all). It's pumpkin seeds coated in a little butter, baked, then left to dry before dusted in salt.

Although I've already taken out two gourds in my gluttony-induced killing spree, I feel like I may need to take out a few more to feed this year's insatiable autumnal culinary over-indulgence.

So, what'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 22nd

2011-10-23T14:58:00.000-04:00

Cheating: When It Doesn't Count

730 Project - 10.22.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Jeffrey's house (in Portland, ME). Otto's pizza: two slices of butternut squash-ricotta-cranberry and two slices of mushroom-ricotta.

Dear Ottos,

I have something to tell you: I've been cheating on you. But not with other pizza places, so it's okay right? It doesn't count if it's been Mexican, New American, soups, gourds, and apples, apple dumplings, apple squares, apple doughnuts, and apple dumplings. Right?!

RIGHT?!?!

Don't be mad. You're still - and always will be - number one. I just needed a little change. But being away from you so long made me realize that no one else can replace what we have.

So don't be mad.

Love always,
Steff

What'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 21st

2011-10-22T22:37:00.003-04:00

Good vs. Bad

730 Project - 10.21.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Mesa Verde (in Portland, ME). Jeffrey: chile rellano; Steff: taco salad with tempeh.

I love Mexican food.

I even love bad Mexican food, which, in my opinion, is better than some good other ethnic foods.

What I don't love, though, is bad service.

Because bad service can make even deliciously bad Mexican food seem, well, bad-bad. Not good-bad.

Tonight, we sat our table and waited for at least eleven or twelve minutes before being acknowledged, despite the fact that The Photographer stared openly at the waitresses to try and get their attention. When a waitress did appear she seemed hassled at best and disinterest in life. She made us feel like we were somehow torturing her by being there.

Unfortunately, the food was awesome.

So this left us in a pickle: to tip good or to tip bad? That was the question.

Here's what it came down to: the food was good. The service was bad. We weren't tipping based on how good the food was - that's why we went to the restaurant in the first place. For the food. A tip is a way for a customer to show thanks and appreciation for their servers hard work. So if a server is hardly working, then what is there to appreciate?

Nothing.

So we left a bad tip.

Which isn't very good.

And while we felt slightly guilty adding on to that waitresses' awful, terrible, no good, very bad day, our belly's felt mostly full.

Which is why you go to a restaurant in the first place: for the food, not for the attitude.

What'd you eat for dinner?

Fact is Better: Feortan

2011-10-21T15:34:00.000-04:00

Flatulence is funny.
(By the way: girls fart. They really do. If a girl tells you she doesn't, she's lying.)

Bodily functions are a regular, comfortable conversational topic between my sister and I (they always have been, but have increased in regularity with older age). Which is why I wasn't surprised we had the following text message chat recently . . .

Sister: "I need your help . . . what is the speed of a fart?"
Me: "About 10 feet per second."
Me: "They are mostly created by e-coli."
Me: "Temperature of fart at time of creation is 98.6 degrees."
Sister: "That's gross. Yet awesome. How do you know these things?"
Me: "On average a fart is composed of about 59% nitrogen, 21% hydrogen, 9% carbon dioxide, 7% methane, and 4% oxygen."
Sister: ". . . I knew you were the fartologist to go to."
Me: "Fart comes from the old English word 'feortan,' which means to break wind."
Me: "Okay, that's all I got."
Sister: "You are a master fartologist. My utmost gratitude."
Me: "Sure, I'm pretty awesome like that."
Sister: "Well, that's just a lot of flatulent knowledge to have."
Me: "Am I honored that you wanted to talk to ME about this?"
Sister: "Yes. You are my favorite fart/poop conversationalist."
Me: "Does this stem from the fact that you're having beeturia-envy?"
Sister: ". . . I really, really am."

True story.

Pfffffffft.
*looks around to see if anyone's noticed*

Further proof that fact is always better than fiction.

730 Project - October 20th

2011-10-21T15:16:00.002-04:00

My advice is to . . .

730 Project - 10.20.11. Steff. At home. Chinese cabbage-tofu soup with a side of peanut-butter smeared apples.

Make this soup.
(You will be happy you did.)
((I promise.))

Slice an apple you picked yourself from a local orchard and top it with organic peanut butter.
(Your belleh will thank you.)
((So will your inner child.))

Eat vegan cookies afterwards with a giant glass of apple cider.
(The calories don't count when it's vegan.)
((Duh.))

What'd you eat for dinner?

730 Project - October 19th

2011-10-20T21:47:00.001-04:00

Too Hungry to Take A Proper Picture

730 Project - 10.19.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Tofu and veggies in a peanut sauce with a glass of Cupcake's cabernet sauvignon.

All I had to do was text: "I'm making tofu and veggies with a spicy peanutbutter sauce, and dessert of your choice if you come over and help me eat it at all."

He responded: "Are you serious?"

So, I texted back: "Yes. But you have to bring me some red wine."

Forty-five minutes later a bearded boy walked into my apartment with a bottle of Cupcake wine ("I got it because of the name!") and a plant ("It helps calm the senses!").

I wish all relationships were this simple and beautiful.

Click.

730 Project - October 18th

2011-10-19T15:16:00.000-04:00

Soup is love.

730 Project - 10.18.11. Steff. At home. White bean, kale, olive, and butternut squash stew.

Make a giant pot of cabbage tofu soup?
Check.
Make a giant pot of coconut curry red lentil stew?
Double check!
Make a giant pot of butternut squash and apple cider soup?
TRIPLE check!!
Make a giant pot of white bean, kale, olive, and butternut squash stew?
QUADRUPLE CHECK!!!

I think that we seriously underestimate the awesomeness of soups and stews. After all, they're pretty hard to eff-up, they make a ton of food, and the possibilities are endless.

What's not to love?
(Unless it's in a can . . . that crap can be awful.)

Click.

730 Project - October 17th

2011-10-19T15:06:00.000-04:00

The Pudding Band-Aid

730 Project - 10.17.11. Steff and Mom. At Mom's house. Cheese pizza (Mom-style [topped with thousand island dressing, crushed red peppers, and parmesan cheese]) and a peach-cheese roll-up.

Today was a rough day in The Life of Steff.

And none of that mattered, because in the end my Mom made it all better with one glorious little act of kindness she couldn't have possibly known was going to be the bandage on the gaping wound that was my day.

My mom made homemade chocolate pudding.
(WHICH SHE NEVER DOES OUTSIDE OF THE HOLIDAYS!!!).

Clearly this woman felt some psychic connection.

(If there was anything in this world that I wish I could share with you gastronomically, it would be a bowl of this woman's pudding.)

Click.

730 Project - October 16th

2011-10-18T21:31:00.000-04:00

"I wish there was real Jack Daniels in it, though."

730 Project - 10.16.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Corn bread, Gardein's seven grain chick'n tenders, Jack Daniels BBQ sauce, and cheese casserole with a side of carrots and salad dressing.

I know that The Photographer loves a meal when he doesn't speak.

Or breathe.

And has to be reminded to slow down and chew his food.

My mom had been talking about this recipe that seemed entirely too easy to "vegetarianize" (even "veganize" if we hadn't used real cheese), so I thought I'd try it out using my lovely boyfriend as the taste test subject.

The dish starts with corn bread (which you can either make yourself or buy pre-made) and then is topped with cooked "chick'n," bbq sauce, and cheese before being thrown back into the oven (with love) and baked until golden.

Yeah, so, we accidentally ate the entire casserole dish of it.
(I don't even wanna think about how many calories I consumed. I don't.)

Make this. Seriously. It is an explosion of wonderful, homey flavors and is awesomely both warm and filling. It's one of the easiest dishes I've ever translated from omnivore to vegetarian to vegan (and one of the quickest, cheapest things I've ever thrown together - ever. Ever ever!)

Click.

Delinquent Bunny Behavior

2011-10-18T16:21:00.001-04:00

The paparazzi are always asking what it is I do in my spare time.

I encourage ill behavior in my pet rabbit, obviously.

Srslee - how cute is he?!

730 Project - October 15th

2011-10-17T12:35:00.002-04:00

"Somethings you say are not for sale . . .

730 Project - 10.15.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At Panera Bread (in Augusta, ME). Pre-Andrew Bird concert grilled tomato and mozzarella paninis with kettle chips.

. . . I would hold that we’re all free agents of a substance or scale."

Today is a bittersweet reminder of time.

Nearly two years ago to the date my little sister and I saw Andrew Bird (with St. Vincent) at the South Portland High School auditorium. It was an important night for her and I to spend together - life had been especially tumultuous and music always seemed to always bring us together, calm us down for a brief spell, and help us "get through."

Tonight I saw Andrew Bird (w/ Dosh) again. This time with The Photographer. This time at the Skowhegan Opera House. And life is totally, unexpectedly different than it was the first time I saw him preform. My sister was not with me, and she was missed tremendously. Even more so when Andrew Bird announced, "I used to play barefoot. I don't any more. Wouldn't you know it's bad for the knees the older you get." This meant nothing to my boyfriend - and it would have meant everything to my little sister (who appreciates the importance of barefootedness like I do, and is as profoundly and sadly affected by the passing time). Especially the last song . . . when he slipped his shoes off anyway and hugged his sock monkey.

For Cari . . .
(Andrew Bird with Dosh, "Tables and Chairs"
Skowhegan Opera House, October 15th, 2011)

"Just don't let the human factor fail to be a factor."

Click.

Fact is Better: The "Little" Guy is Usually the "Good" Guy, Too

2011-10-14T10:56:00.001-04:00

A dear-to-my-heart friend recently approached me about possibly writing a guest "Fact is Better" blog. And truth be told, I thought that was a BRILLIANT idea (and something I should've entertained a long time ago). Stories were meant to be shared. After all, each of us experience moments in life that are too good, or bad, or outlandish to be real: but they are. To me, that's part of what makes life so worth living - all the little moments that remind us that fact IS better than fiction. Or at least more interesting. Or absurd. Or sometimes totally beautiful.

Like in my friend's case . . .

"So, the other day my brakes started making a growling sound. I, knowing what brakes should sound like, decided it was best to have them looked at by a professional. Unfortunately, my normal car guy moved his business a good distance away from my house and place of employment, so he wasn't feasible. I decided to go with a well known, bigger place that I had dealt with successfully in the past. The bigger place quoted me $800 to $900 dollars for the repairs to my brakes; they also listed off the many issues they found with my car as a warning that I might just die in a burning fiery wreck spontaneously in anywhere from 1 minute to 900 years if I didn't get the issues fixed ASAP. Knowing that the parts would really total somewhere in the $150-$200 dollar range, I decided that I'd like to have a second opinion. So, I called my normal car guy.

Car Guy: 'I'll do it for $250.'
Me: 'Can you do it Saturday?'
Car Guy: 'Saturday's bad. How about after 5 tonight?'
Me: 'That'll be awesome. I'll see you after 5.'

So I went up to my mechanic's shop, and he diligently worked from about 6pm to 8pm. During this time I got immensely bored. I decided that walking down to the gas station nearby would not only bring me refreshing gas station food (gag), but also allow me to grab an extra twenty bucks cash to pay for the work that was being done.

While I was walking back from the gas station, I noticed a car I recognized. I waved. They waved back while driving by. Within minutes, though, I realized they had reversed directions and were driving back to me. They pulled over and rolled their window down.

Car Friends: 'Where are you going?'
Me: *I pointed at the nearby auto place* 'There.'
Car Friends: 'Oh'
Me: 'Were you swinging around to give me a ride home?'
Car Friends: 'That was the plan'
Me: 'Thanks, but I'm actually getting my car fixed here currently and I'll drive it home later.'

I wandered back into the shop and waited for my car guy to finish. Once he was finished, he gave me the total. As he was being a really generous person by staying so late to help me out, I passed him a check with a few extra dollars on it. He looked at me as though I was nuts.

Me: 'Nope. I want to take care of the decent people in the world when I can.'
Car Guy: 'Okay, I just don't want you to leave here wishing you didn't pay me that much. Don't want you to leave mad.'
Me: 'I wouldn't have offered it if I didn't want to.'
Car Guy: *stopped to think for a moment* 'Hey . . . you like Swiss cake rolls?'
Me: 'Who doesn't like Swiss Cake rolls?'

My car guy then proceeded to give me two full boxes of Swiss cake rolls."

True story (from Nick Sima).

And further proof that fact is better (and more generous and more compassionate) than fiction.

730 Project - October 13th

2011-10-13T20:55:00.002-04:00

Based On a Photo

730 Project - 10.13.11. Steff and Jeffrey Remick. At home. Lentils topped with caramelized onions and acorn squash.

I made this (see above) after seeing this (see below).

(Why yes, that is a photo from the internet that I took with my phone then sent back to the internet.)

Alright, so it didn't come out exactly like I had hoped for, and it was kinda overwhelmingly oniony tasting, but we rewarded ourselves for eating our vegetables with apple crisp afterwards.

Being an adult is awesome.
(When it comes to food, anyway.)

Click.

730 Project - October 12th

2011-10-13T20:40:00.001-04:00

A Pile of Chicken

730 Project - 10.12.11. Steff. At home. An open-faced tomato and avocado sandwich on dehydrated tomato and dill bread with a side of Japanese sweet potato fries.

Me: "Help me write something about this picture.
The Photographer: "Okay, like what?"
Me: "I don't know. Maybe about how I look like a fat squirrel."
The Photographer: "You don't look like a fa . . . is that a pile of a chicken?! It looks like you're eating a pile of chicken."
Me: "And that's it right there."

(Please note: it its NOT a pile of chicken, it is a pile of Japanese sweet potato fries [which were so awful I had to smother them in Jack Daniels BBQ sauce {see it behind my arm?}]).

Click.