I Want To Be An Auntie Boozebag When I Grow Up

Life has not been kind to me lately, Lovers.  The office has been a drag and more often than not, I leave there cranky and two clicks away from full bitch. I have come to find solice in food (which explains my expanding tush) and cooking dinner has become a soothing sedative.

On the other hand, shopping for ingredients is a nightmare.  I LOVE Peterson's Market in Yarmouth Port.  Their butcher shop is first rate. Sure, the parking lot is kinda scary.  Some of the people there may need to revisit their driving test since the last one they took was in a horse and buggy. Including the old lady who drove thru the front doors a few months ago.  But, who doesn't like to play a game of Frogger (you're the frog) when going from your car to the front door - which has been expertly repaired and outfitted with those reinforced steel posts - just in case someone confuses the brake and the gas pedal again.

So, back to my foul mood.

I was strolling down the dairy aisle after picking up some Sweet Heat Sirloin Tips (Holy Lindsay Lohan they're good) and trying to remember if we needed orange juice.  (We did, I thought we didn't).  I decided the only way I was ever going to get out of my funk was a threesome with Ben & Jerry.  As I circled and headed Northeast towards the cooler where my boys were chilling, I heard the most infectious, cackling laugh followed by a smokey voice exclaiming "You've gotta see this."  I looked up to see a fabulously dressed woman holding a pint of ice cream and gesturing toward her friends - three equally fashionable ladies. (I have to note their appearance because it is a rarity to see a woman in her 50's or 60's, in Peterson's dressed in anything but a sweatsuit or a housecoat).  Smokey Voice showed the pint to her friends and they all began to laugh.  I peered up over the top of the cooler and smiled politely when our eyes met. 

She strode over to me and said "You just have to look at this."

I looked down at the pint (Ben & Jerry's, of course) and read the name of the flavor:

I looked back at her, wide eyed.

She said, "I know! You thought so too!" (EDITORS NOTE:  The name has been since changed to What a Cluster) Then she proceeded to laugh, her friends and then myself joining in with her.

Holding bottles of wine, the fabulous foursome meticulously scoured the cooler selection for the perfect flavor.  "Gay Head Ginger" by Cape Cod Creamery evoked another round of pealing laughter.  I eagerly joined the ruckus.  They told me they were were spending time together and had done this for years.  Their family referred to them as the "Auntie Boozebags".  They referred to themselves as the "The Contessas". 

I left the store with a smile on my face and a the proverbial bounce in my step. Ladies, you have renewed my faith in my future.  I have always feared my midlife - afraid I might become stale.  Thank you for brightening my day. Everytime I walk into the market, I listen for your laughter and hope to see your smiling faces.  To The Contessas (aka Auntie Boozebags), you are utterly fabulous and my idols.

One Degree From Cake

Everyone has played the game "Six Degrees From Kevin Bacon" I can do it in 2.  I use to have my nails done by a girl who did the nails of a girl who was in a movie with Kevin Bacon.  I've met some famous people.  No one earth shattering.  I once had a conversation at a guitar show with Tom Hamilton (Aerosmith) the day after I went to his concert.  And by conversation, I mean, I stood there slackjawed while the husband said hi and discussed the concert with him.  I managed to burp out a word or two.  But, all in all, I was my incredibly uncool self.  I always thought I would act cool and calm if I ran into someone famous.  If the husband hadn't been there, I probably would have asked Tom to sign my bra.

In my line of work, we deal with alot of very well known people, very wealthy people and some regional politicians.  So, there is always someone who knows some guy, who knows another guy who's a rockin' big shot.  Never in my wildest wet dreams did I know I was a degree away from one of my favorite crushes.

Duff!  From Ace of Cakes.

I work with a guy who went to high school with him!!!

After that, I begged my secret Duff friend to give me any information he could.  I got to see high school yearbook photos and hear interesting naughty little tidbits (none which I will share 'cuz I feel oh so special now. But I will give you a hint - "balls"). My secret Duff friend also has a personal email address for him and phone number.  I also know he's not married and he "might" have a girl friend.  I mean, why wouldn't he.  He is Duff.  Awesomely sexy baker dude who has a funny laugh and makes cakes for a living.  Cake!  With  Frosting!  I am one email/phone call away from the man of my dreams.  A man who could cover me in homemade frosting and lick it off.

And then I remembered. I'm married. 

I excitedly told the husband when I got home.  "I know someone one who knows the Ace of Cakes dude!!"  The husband was unimpressed.  We weren't talking about a rock star or a porn star. And he wouldn't be getting any actual cake from this.  He barely acknowledged my excitement with a "Yes, dear."  I failed to mention the fact I was excited because I lusted after this cake God and was having tiny fantasies of him, in his bakery with a piping bag of frosting.

Honey, we will be having cake..... with frosting for dessert tonight.  You have been warned.

Will Sell Husband For Two Loaves Of Bread & A Bagel

We have gone nearly carb free in our household.  After TH went was forced to the doctor for physical because I got so annoyed with his slovenly behavior and became fearful he may have a heart attack at any moment so I called to make an appointment for him it was that time of year.  Sure enough, he needs to lose 50 a few pounds.  After gracefully doing the "I told you so" dance around the kitchen floor, I paused during a pirouette and asked how the doctor planned for him to lose weight.  "Lower my carb intake" he said.

Damn.

Those who are married, engaged or in a dedicated relationship with someone knows what happens next.

Um...yeah...I've got to go carb free too.

No punishment is more cruel than stuffing your pie hole with pasta while your beloved is choking down brown rice (I know it's not carb free - baby steps, people).  I couldn't continue my macaroni loving ways while TH was struggling with salad.

I won't pretend that I'm perfect.  The winter weather and my inability to pry my ass out of bed on a dark and frozen morning to run, may have allowed a few pounds to adhear to my frame.  Thankfully, the weather man has promised a few days in the 50's right after we get a nasty wet snowstorm threatening to dump 4-5 inches on us overnight.  Yes, here in New England we like to have a temperature swing of 40 degrees.  Freezing one day, sunny and warm the next.  Come move here and join us in the challenge of dressing each day.  But, I digress.

We have eliminated the pasta (we've gone to wheat pasta, but please don't tell the doctor) and bake potatoes.  There are minimal snacking options in the cabinet and TH is no longer allowed to make everything into a sandwich for dinner.  The man is Joey from "Friends." He will make a sandwich out of mac n'cheese if I don't watch him.

But, the greatest tragedy in this whole diet mess which is totally TH's fault and I'm blaming him for my pain is the lack of bread.  I LOVE bread.  Crispy baguettes, dinner rolls and crusty french bread.  If not stopped, I will make love to a ciabatta loaf and a bottle of olive oil.  Kinky, but it's my thing.  Carbs fill my life.

I also love sweet bread.  Lemon poppyseed bread, slightly warmed with sweet cream butter is delicious enough to make me forget sex for a moment or two.  Banana bread is another fav.  I searched years for a decent banana bread recipe.  Then, quite by surprise, I was looking through an old computer and found a file containing this recipe.  You always think you're going to find porn (and usually do) when cleaning out a former employees computer.  Instead, I found the best recipe for banana bread.

Enjoy, lovers.  Just because I'm suffering, doesn't mean you have to!

Banana Bread

Makes (2) 7x3 inch loaves or 1 bundt cake

Ingredients:
1 cup mashed bananas (3 overripe bananas)
1 cup sour cream
½ cup butter
1 1/3 cups white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
Optional: 1 cup fresh or frozen blueberries

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour pan(s)

Combine banana and sour cream. In a separate bowl cream butter and sugar. Add vanilla. Add 1 egg at a time and beat well. Mix together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Add to butter mixture until just combined. Blend in banana mixture. Gently fold in blueberries. Spread batter into prepared pan(s)

Bake for 50 minutes or until bread tests done. (1 ½ hour in metal pans.)

Parlez-Vous Francias Avec Moi....Oh....and Some Bread Too.

Food Snob. It's a proud badge and I wear it with pride. I won't eat anything unless it’s utterly delectable. What's the point?


This past Saturday, I had a little mid-morning business meeting. Eager to escape the confines of the Starbucks and the cliché chains, I trotted down near the airport and hopped onto Hinckley Road. Destination: Pain D'Avion's Café Boulangerie.

Most of us Codders know about Pain D'Avions bread. Available a specialty shops, area restaurants and on site at the bakery. Dozens of kinds of breads, rolls and bagels. YUM! A few years ago, after a brutal fire, the owners set up shop in a warehouse and the public followed. Tucked away between two industrial buildings, the bakery seems to blend well with the "rustic" area. Stepping in the warm, dough spiced air of the cafe; one is transported to a French market and stands in awe of the bounty of bread. Woven baskets hold beautiful ciabatta, focaccia, bagels, crusty rolls and delicate brioche. Baguette soldiers stood by the dozens. Glass cases were abundant with croissants, quiches, salads, and pain au chocolat. I snitch a sample of the chocolate hazelnut. The moistness of the inside, flecked with deep chocolate bits and hints of hazelnut surrounded by a rough crust was enough to send me into utopia. Butter would have been an unwelcome companion.

Nudge by my dining partner that we were suppose to be eating "healthy". I ordered a Croque Madame, an open faced sandwich with black forest ham, gruyere, and egg served on country bread. For "dessert", a yogurt parfait to share. I also ordered a cappuccino - and in these exact words - "as big as my head" - for you novices, that's a double shot, baby!

After ordering at the counter, we picked our way through the cafe tables to choose a spot in the sun. It appeared the cafe had been very busy moments before our arrival and there weren't any tables clear of dishes. A small downside, but I'm not too good to bus my own table. The cafe also features a long conference-like table perfect for the informal lunch meeting of 4 or more.

The Madame was delivered. One bite and I was transported to the European countryside. The sweetness of the ham played well with the nutty, melted gruyere. The hearty country bread stood up to the pairing and was an appropriate platform. The surprise was a small nest of arugula on top. Not noted on the menu, it was a fresh addition to the dish. The peppery crispness added an excellent finish. The parfait was unpretentious and lovely. Creamy vanilla yogurt, sweet sliced fresh strawberries and granola I would swear is homemade. Luscious as a quasi dessert or a simple snack.

Café Boulangerie has class, superb tastes and an atmosphere that is Paris in a laidback Cape Cod kinda way. The staff was a tad aloof, which I hope is a tribute to the traditional French attitude and not overall rudeness. Utterly Sinful gives the experience eight raised glasses out ten.  The cafe is open for dinner as well and you know I'll be back.

Bon chance, lovers

The Bad Girls Dinner

What happens when you take food and a case of wine then combine it with a bunch of naughty minded women?

Bread in cleavage.

Of course, you know these aren't my breasts.  We have already established the fact I do not have any.  This fabulous cleavage shot is Dollface.  We grabbed her bodacious TaTa's and jammed a baguette between them.  Aren't they beautiful!  Don't you just want to jammed your face in there and give her a quick motorboat.  But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This past Saturday, the girls and I gathered at the Casa de Fabulous Artist to wine and dine ourselves silly.  Everyone brings a dish, everyone brings their choice of adult beverage.  I brought a dynamite bottle of Pinor Noir.  I don't remember the label, I just remember it being very tasty.  Next time I'll pay more attention for you.

Here is the table:

Here's the spread:

We had angel hair pasta with pesto, shrimp and chicken lo mein and I made a huge antipasto that had bresaola (dried cured meat), fresh mozzarella, roasted herbed tomatoes, roasted shallots, grilled zucchini and summer squash, roasted red peppers, articokes with roasted garlic cloves, portabello mushrooms and asparagus.

And we had bread:

Glorious bread from a local baker.  But, do you see what I see?

Yup.  It's penis bread.  From that point on, it was all down hill from there.

We did everything with that bread.  That phallic piece of dough became the centerpiece of all our pictures.  We even have a video of Dollface and myself doing the full intro to Sir-Mix-A-Lot's "Baby Got Back", complete with the bread penis.  After a few glasses of wine, we became 12 year old boys.  I'm hoping that Simone does not put that video on YouTube.  Talent scouts from Hollywood will be calling me night and day. I am that good at Valley Girl speak.

On a more mature note, we were celebrating Dollface's birthday.  Being a bit of a closet pastry chef, I whipped out a delicious recipe for "That Chocolate Cake" from The Essence of Chocolate by Robert Steinberg and John Scharffenberge. (see below for recipe)

I think I did pretty well.  The cake was inhaled by all and Dollface brought decadent chocolate covered strawberries.  It was chocolate overload and it was good.

To all my Bad Girls, we rocked that night!  Stay tuned, lovers.  Bad Girl Dinner is becoming a monthly event. 

That Chocolate Cake

For the Cake

INGREDIENTS

Unsalted butter and flour for pans

2 cups granulated sugar

1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup unsweetened natural cocoa powder

1 teaspoon salt

1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1-1/2 teaspoons baking soda

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

½ cup canola oil

1 cup whole milk

1 cup boiling water

For the Frosting

INGREDIENTS

1-1/4 cups granulated sugar

1 cup heavy cream

5 ounces 99% Cacao Unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped

8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch pieces

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

PREPARATION:

For the Cake:

Position a rack in the center of the oven and preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Lightly butter the bottom of two 9-inch round cake pans. Line the bottom with parchment paper, then butter and flour the parchment and the sides of the pans.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the sugar, flour, cocoa, salt, baking powder, and baking soda, mixing on low speed. Min in the eggs, oil, and milk.

Increase the speed to medium and beat for 2 minutes. Reduce the speed to low and mix in the water. The batter will be soupy.

Divide the batter evenly between the cake pans. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean.

Remove from the oven and cool on a cooling rack for 5 minutes, then turn the layers out onto the rack and cool completely.

When the cakes have cooled, check the frosting. It should have the consistency of mayonnaise. If it is still too thin, allow it to cool longer.

For the Frosting:

In a small saucepan, combine the sugar and cream and bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat and simmer for 6 minutes. Add the chocolate and butter and stir until melted. Pour into a bowl and stir in the vanilla.

To Frost the Cake:

Place one cake layer on a serving plate. Spread the frosting with a hot palette knife or icing spatula to give the frosting a beautiful shine. Run the knife under hot tap water and dry with a towel. Spread about ¾ cup of the frosting over the top of the first layer. Top with the second layer. Spread the remaining frosting over the top and sides of the cake, heating the knife again as necessary.

Serves 8 to 10

Caffeine Orgasm

I believe the single-cup coffee machine is one of the the greatest inventions of all time.

I have the coffee curse. I can't make a pot to save my life. I always get the measurements wrong, either the water or the grounds. I can have someone standing next to me, coaching my actions step by step and it still comes out undrinkable. The result is a substance resembling thick, gritty paste or dirty water.

The single-cup machine makes it perfect every time. You pull the little shelf out, stick the pod in, push the shelf back in and press the button. A little whirling noise and that beautiful stream of caffeine heaven pours out into your cup. I have decided that this process is very similar to masturbation. You always achieve perfection every time and you can do it by yourself.

My addiction to coffee has been passed down from my mother. She must have a cup within 5-10 minutes of waking. She doesn't resemble a human until the first half of the cup has been drained. I can manage until I get to the office. This is probably because I'm too cheap to buy a cup on the way. I'm probably the only person around that doesn't foam at the mouth at the thought of Dunkin Donuts. I think their coffee tastes terrible. One day I calculated that I spent over $15.00 a week on take out coffee that I really wasn't happy with. Now, we have that perfect little machine tucked in the breakroom.

A good cup of coffee is ectasy. You hold the hot mug in both hands and lift it towards your face. The steam tickles your noise and teases its way across your lips. Have you ever noticed that you breathe in just before you sip a drink? It brings the taste of the coffee over your tongue. That first sip of a fresh cup is pure bliss. Like a fine wine, I let it sit on my tongue, savouring the flavor and the heat. Upon swallowing, I can feel the heat move down my body, under my breasts and curl up in my stomach.

Well, I'm off to have my third orgasm....I mean cup..... of the day.