Tripping in Heels

You know the saying “it’s like riding a bicycle?”  Like if you don’t ride a bicycle for a long time and then get on one you’ll go sailing down the street like an old pro?  Well, whoever made up that saying is a liar!  My brain does not just hold on to random information that is not currently in use.  I don’t know where that useful information goes, but after a few months, it’s like poof…never learned it.

Last Friday I got the cooking bug like BAD.  The fall weather was peaking in and I wanted to spend the weekend in the kitchen with delicious smells of fall all around me.  I’m sure this had more to do with the fact that I did NOT want to write my paper, but let’s just ignore that fact okay?

So I researched recipes and made my grocery list.  Friday afternoon I was off to Central Market where I spent a glorious hour checking things off my list and filling my cart with fresh seasonal foods and  flowers. 

Saturday’s task:  sausage and lentil stew for dinner with pumpkin bread pudding for dessert.  Everything started out okay.  I got the stew cooking and then realized I forgot to buy a can of diced tomatoes.  Humph.  But after a few minutes of digging in my cabinets a can was located.  Yay!  The stew was delicious and only later did I realize that I forgot to add the garnish of feta cheese and chopped parsley.  Oh well…no harm, no foul.  And now that I think about it the pumpkin bread pudding was a smashing success.  Seriously awesome and custardy.  The whole house smelled like fall.  Damn I’d like another bowl of that right about now!

So Sunday rolled around and I was pretty confident after my basically successful dinner.  Considering I haven’t made anything more extravagant than a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the last few months, a few tiny bumps could be expected.  And then I seemed to fall apart.  My task for Sunday was pork tenderloin stuffed with cranberries, goat cheese, and pistachios; and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies (to take to school). 

I decided to get the cookies going in the afternoon because the dough needed to chill.  And then I blew up the butter in the microwave.  Okay, messy sidetrack, but not the end of the world.  Craig laughed pretty hard, but after ten minutes of wiping down the microwave and stove I was back at it again.  I had to guesstimate on how much butter I’d lost the first time around so I just crossed my fingers that the cookies would come together.  I mixed all of my dry ingredients and then all of the wet ones, and then combined everything together.  I was about to add the chocolate chips when I looked at my box of baking powder.  Hmm…I don’t remember putting any of that in there.  Crap.  So I measured, dumped, and vigorously stirred the thick dough together…again hoping that these cookies would not just completely fall apart.  Craig had begun to call them ghetto cookies, but I was determined to succeed.  I baked them later that night and they actually came out okay…not as chewy as the recipe claimed, but I’m pretty sure that was baker error!

The pork was delicious although there was an enormous fly buzzing around the window while I was in the kitchen.  I attacked it with a towel and it hit the ground.  And then when I went to pick it up the damn thing disappeared.  I looked like a crazy person flying around my kitchen looking for the fly.  When I found him again I squashed him good and made a big scene.  Craig just shook his head.  I’m a mess…what can I say?

And for all of my hard work, I ate way too much both nights and then had nightmares!  Zombies and vampires made appearances.  Although, the zombies may have had more to do with the season premiere of the Walking Dead than the pumpkin cookies!