The reason why? Right before Christmas, Cullen’s aunt bought me a Deni yogurt maker. It was quite exciting, though I had strict self-deprecating thoughts about never using it (uni-tasker), and not needing it because I could just make yogurt at home on the stove and use a Crockpot or double towels for insulation… But you know, I don’t eat a lot of yogurt, despite liking it, probably because I’m particular about it nowadays. As a kid, I was all about some YoCrunch (Oreo when I was little, strawberry-granola a few years later). Then I moved on to Yoplait Thick N’ Creamy – no other. I loved (and still love) the texture; it’s like dessert (which is what they try to tell you about the Whips! and Delights, and it’s a lie). But I backed off after starting to pay attention to the ingredient factor. The sugar, the sodium, the artificial flavoring… eh, no thanks. I moved on to Greek yogurt, namely Oikos. That’s the stuff. (Wow, that’s a ridiculously old post.)
The yogurt maker sat untouched through Christmas, New Year’s, and weeks more. It stared me down every time I walked through the kitchen. How dare I bring it home and not show it love? After reading the manual, I was further filled with shame: so easy! Scald milk, let cool, add starter, fill jars, cook! Done! Exclamation! It was settled. Yogurt. Small doubts crept in – would I eat it all? I’m the only one that eats yogurt in the house, you see. Plus side, all for myself, and no bitching if anyone else didn’t like it, because hey – no one else eats it. See? Always a bright side.
I am, no question, a complete sucker for laminated pastry. I love tearing a horn off a croissant and biting into There is a small French bistro-type franchise in East Cobb called La Madeleine, that Mom and I must go to in order to have a proper visit over lattes and croissants, maybe a quiche. For a franchise, its pastries are delightful, thankfully fresh-baked every day. The Bunnery in St. Augustine, FL has every manner of pastry and baked sweet I could want; their croissants are as big as an appetizer plate, and you have to get there early to appreciate them fresh and warm from the oven. (Their coffees are equally huge-sized, and the specialty beverages artfully done.) I have yet to find a local (Athens-area) bakery that I can rave over for their pastries and atmosphere, but I haven’t been looking too hard, especially after recently I made up my mind to tackle croissants at home.
I’m not sure I fall under the category of “normal” pregnancy. Yes, I’m hungry often, but not for weird food combinations (any weirder than usual, anyway, if you ask my husband – who else eats ketchup on scrambled eggs?), or really for anything in particular. Except for sushi. I am all about some sushi. But anyway. I don’t really want chocolate, ice cream, or sweets in general; more likely, I’m in the market for some chips, super-buttery-salty popcorn, or something else savory/salty.
Bugaboo, here I am. Full of Christmas cheer and apologies for being a bad blogger. Over a month has passed since my last post about broccoli soup. And it will be quite a bit more time before I post any more food-related bits. Alas! However, I have a good reason for both of those things.
Why haven’t I posted in over a month? Well, because the thought of food, much less the smell of anything cooking, made me very sick. I couldn’t even look at my RSS feed without feeling a little green. I finally went to the doctor at the beginning of November and – surprise! I am happy to announce that we are expecting our first child in mid-June 2012! I am now to the point where I can at least stand to smell a working kitchen again, and carefully eat small meals – both of which meant Thanksgiving wasn’t a bust, a major concern – but I won’t be doing much cooking for a while. And that is because…
After living in Kentucky for a little over a year, we have had issues finding full-time employment and benefits. The economy here just isn’t what we expected when we moved up, and it’s not improving. No benefits = no insurance, and that isn’t something we can accept now that we have a baby on the way. So on the 15th of December, we will be putting all our kept belongings into a Uhaul trailer and various vehicles for the not-so-terribly-long drive back to Athens, Georgia. We can get the husband back behind the wheel of a police cruiser, where he belongs, and… well, we’ll figure something out to do with me.
In any case, the next two weeks will be full to the brim with obstetrics appointments, packing what we want and tossing or donating what we don’t, cleaning house, split shifts at work and preparing the dogs for a long-haul trip, I won’t have much time to myself before the move. After the fact, I don’t expect to be able to do much until after the holidays, what with settling in and the general holiday madness. So, barring the odd picture or comment, don’t expect to see much of me until after the first of the year. Have a merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, until we meet again!
First you might be thinking – first birthday cake? You’re how old, again? I’m 24, thanks, and I don’t mean this is my first birthday cake. (My first birthday cake, incidentally, happened to be a yellow cake with homemade chocolate frosting, made by Mom, and I smeared it all over my face. In the picture, I’m quite pleased with myself.) I mean that this was the first real “birthday cake” I made entirely by myself. Sure, I’ve made cakes, and one of them was even for a birthday. But this cake was a birthday cake, if you understand the difference. There are cakes for birthdays, and there are birthday cakes. This one was of the latter variety.