There are some things money can't buy...for everything else there's kazoos.

Can we start by talking about the musical wonder that is a kazoo?  It is awesome because it is the only instrument that levels the playing field as far as musical talent goes.  Music majors and tone-deaf Joe-schmoes all sound equally amazingly obnoxious (upon making that claim I am sure someone will quickly show me a YouTube video of someone who can play one to make them sound like you are at the orchestra but I would say that if you have watched a video of a kazoo orchestra on YouTube then I am calling for an intervention, you've got a problem, so be prepared).  I also enjoy a kazoo because it takes me back to one of my favorite memories.  Picture a warm summer evening after getting some Moosetracks ice cream with my aunt and having completed a trip to the dollar store (which you know only leads to the purchasing of worthless things you don't really have a need for like kazoos).  With one hand holding our ice cream and one hand holding our kazoo's and I suppose a third mutant hand for my aunt who was steering the car, we cruised around northern Michigan playing all the hits kazoo style.  The best portion was when we happened to need to go the same direction as another car for a good 20 minutes, so we were unintentionally following this car while jamming out on our recently acquired musical investments.  I wondered what he thought of us but wasn't worried enough to stop the jam session.  With 40 minutes of kazoo rehearsal on our drive, naturally we were ready for our debut performance and subjected our whole extended family to a concert.  I would like to say I was 7 when we did this, but I was a little past that (okay maybe a lot past that) and she was a little more past that (okay maybe a lot more past that).  Kazoo's transformed us, united us, and I will forever esteem the musical instrument that is the kazoo.  I share those same sentiments of regard for my kazoo band-mate and aunt, who passed away on Monday.  Few words can quite capture her character, to explain who she is an the mark she left on the world and in many hearts is as difficult as explaining a kazoo to someone who has never played one.  My attempt to describe her to you would be mediocre at best but I will say I have met few who encapsulate heart, passion and drive as she did. She wore the Achatz name well so hopefully I can carry on the legacy.  Maybe I'll enhance Achatz fame by perfecting my kazoo skills and creating a YouTube video in her honor.  Who knows?  But for now? I think I'll stick to baking.

You never plan for loss, but luckily for me I did plan for a massive weekend of baking up at camp, so I got me some baketherapy.  It all began with biscotti.  I made three flavors.  I consider it an accomplishment that I waited until day 2 to actually try any of it.  I let it sit for one whole day looking all tempting and cute before I finally gave in.  Biscotti makes me weak at the knees.  Forget the soft and chewy cookies, I love me a crispy cookie.  They were delightful, especially with a warm cup of coffee (even if it is not my favorite #1 Grandpa mug that broke a few summers ago).

Baketherapy continued with molten chocolate cakes.  I had never made them before.  My boss said I was crazy for trying them for a banquet.  I agreed.  I will never deny my over-achiever-type-A-never-take-the-easy-way-out-don't-try-what-I'm-trying-cause-it's-insane way of life.  I'm all in.  That's how I do.  Molten chocolate cake?  We will meet again soon, now that I know how to make you and all.  I've got some tweaking to do.

In case you were worried that I did not sufficiently baketherapize enough with the biscotti and the molten chocolate cake, fear not, I had another banquet.  Me being me, everything was made-from-scratch down to the lemon curd that I put in, um... um... um... one of the recipes, maybe the berry mascarpone mousse?  Yes. That's the one.  There were so many ingredients and minute details that I barely kept my head straight.  Yes friends, I was sufficiently therapized.

Meet mousse contestant number one: The Creamsicle.  Lemon sponge cake topped with a tangerine mousse.

Contestant number two: Chocolate Dream. Mocha devil's food cake with a mocha mousse, brownie bite, strawberry and chocolate sauce. 

Finally we have contestant number three: Berry bliss.  A blood-orange soaked biscotti bottom, fresh berries and a berry mascarpone mousse.

I am not really sure the contestants could actually enter into the same contest because they were all so different but I am just gonna go out on a limb and say that I am the winner because I made them all without eating any.  If you want to make me a medal, feel free.  Also, I wonder if I drooled enough over the crates of mousse that drool should count as an ingredient?  They looked like the kind of dessert you order at a restaurant and then stick your spoon in about 10 more times after you finish it just to make sure you ate even the air that now sits where the dessert used to be because the air might taste like what you just ate if it was in its presence long enough. 

It was a glorious and much needed weekend in the world of baking.  I am anxiously awaiting my next excuse to bake.  This week I was reminded of how short life really is, so I had better get baking STAT.  The world is full of millions of delicious treats and it is my civic duty to try as many as possible and force feed them to my friends.  I don't think they mind...

"How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog--it's here a little while, then it's gone." James 4:14

R.I.P. Aunt Mary. You will be missed!

When life gives you lemons... bake them into things.

In my mind there is little debate about the best dessert ingredient.  While this blog is about lemons, lemons do not take the title home.  The obvious answer is chocolate.  People who disagree are freaks of nature and I find you difficult to understand.  With this in mind, I was invited to bake gourmet desserts for a banquet up at camp in two weeks.  If it were up to me I would make three desserts that are chocolate in one variation or another, but some people prefer other things so I had to play with some not-chocolate dessert options.  One of my experiments resulted in the purchasing of meyer lemons.  I bought massive amounts of them because when I go up to camp to bake, the nearest grocery store is 20 minutes away so I stock up to avoid a mid-bake emergency trip to the grocery store.  I came home from camp with a good 10 extra lemons and no idea what to do with them.  Life didn't necessarily give me these lemons, I had willfully purchased them, but I had to figure out what to do with them, so bake-fest began.  I went on trusty Pinterest and the lemon-y treats were plenty, beginning with these Lemon Burst cookies.  Funny thing?  I found the recipe and it was ridiculously easy but did not require a single actual meyer lemon to make it thanks to the lemon cake mix.  10-0=10, so I was still stuck with 10 lemons. Quite the conundrum.  Your heart goes out to me, I'm sure. 

 

My pinning frenzy resulted in some sweet roll and cinnamon roll recipes however that did an adequate job of depleting my lemon supply.  They also depleted my time for sleep as I went to bed at 1:30am on a school night, but that surprises no one since I'll choose about any activity over sleep except maybe running (whether its from a bear or for "leisure").  I made blueberry cinnamon rolls, meyer lemon sticky rolls, and straight up cinnamon rolls (because all experiments need a control, right?). 

Exhibit A: Blueberry Cinnamon Rolls

Exhibit B: Meyer Lemon Sticky Rolls

Exhibit C: Straight Up Cinnamon Rolls

The sweet roll project used 4 lemons.  10-4=6 (admiring my math skills? bet so!).  Experimentation continued.  Lemon poppy seed bread was an obvious choice.  Using my favorite cookbook, Pie in the Sky, for the recipe was another obvious choice.  The beauty of these choices is that it resulted in a delicious treat which my kiddos enjoyed while it snowed! Seriously, who doesn't love shoving your mouth full of bread on a snowy day?  I'm a fan of it.  So were my students.

The result of all of these endeavors was one remaining meyer lemon, which was lacking a peel, since I used it for zesting.  I can feel good about my use of all of the lemons because even the leftover one got used somehow.  Not like I-used-all-of-the-buffalo-I-hunted-including-the-eyeballs good, but good. It turned out to be a tasty endeavor, although if the lemon man and chocolate man had to duke it out, I am still gonna put my money on chocolate man.

Sometimes life is full of lemons.  I am in a season of lots of lemons and life lemons aren't really the kind of lemons you can bake into delicious things (trust me, I would if I could).  There are not sufficient inspirational quotes or tubs of ice cream for some of the things life can throw at us.  Sickness, brokenness, and death are unfortunately things that no one is a stranger to.  In the midst of these seasons, it is so easy to throw tantrums, to question, to wrestle with reality or retreat.  We disdain the presence of these lemons and curse their existence.  I'm not gonna say that they compare to the challenge of finding the use of 10 measly meyer lemons that called to me from the fridge because they don't, but I am gonna say that the result is sweet, much like these desserts.  As it turns out, these life lemons challenge us to identify our purpose, mold us to be a better version of ourselves and give perspective to what is already in our lives and its value.  I told you, pretty sweet, right?  I would also like to mention that it is calorie-free sweet (and that's not because I made up a fake rule about it), so that's a double win.  As you are reading this, you might be wondering why I am getting so emo, since  my usual style is not this-belongs-on-a-hallmark-card but you also might be reading this in the midst of some big life lemons like me wanting to have a fist-pounding temper tantrum like me and needing some encouragement.

So today, be reminded that life lemons serve a purpose, what we go through is not in vain, our circumstances to not define us, and we are being sculpted into something beautiful through the process.  As a sculptor sculpts, it uses a chisel.  Chisels are not smooth and delicate objects; they are sharp and probably could be added as a weapon in the game of Clue.  Each chunk the sculptor carves from the rock is removed with force, but the end result is a masterpiece.  You are the Sculptor's work of art and the finished piece will be a thing of beauty, bringing glory to it's Creator.

"I have refined you, but not as silver is refined.   Rather, I have refined you in the furnace of suffering. I will rescue you for my sake— yes, for my own sake! I will not let my reputation be tarnished, and I will not share my glory with idols!" Isaiah 48:10-11

Donut you want some of this?

Yesterday, some people played football. Anyone watch?  I was too busy in the kitchen.  My chef-in-crime and I made a Superbowl feast, complete with a full assortment of apps and desserts.  I called my mom after the game and she asked me who won the game (of course she hadn't watched the game either which proves that I am my mother's daughter).  Though I had thrown a Superbowl party, I couldn't even tell her who had won.  I knew the jersey colors (because naturally some food has to be sporting the colors of each team) but couldn't tell her the names of the teams or anything.  This is not something I am ashamed to admit.  Our party rocked!  We now also have an official name for our duo: Reinas de la Kitchen.  The perfect tribute to our Mexican-American heritage (seriously some days you can't tell which one of us is the Mexican and which is the gringa).  Don't worry, we even made t-shirts.  Oh yeah. We are that cool. We are also that type-A.  Our party spread had been pinned for two months, we researched recipes, created and edited the pinboard multiple times, made massive lists and then cooked away.  Our spread included spinach artichoke dip, guacamole and chips, stuffed mushrooms, bacon potato bites, sliders, wings, pinwheels, chip 'n' dip cookies, brownies, cake pops and your usual suspects (m&m's, veggie trays, and chips).  Definite win. (Except the mini hot dog buns that we aren't going to talk about because they worked 3 weeks ago in the trial run but did not work all three times I attempted to make them this weekend and I used the same everything and I just really don't know what happened and when it failed I really just wanted to throw myself to the ground and have a tantrum like a two year old but saved it for the typed tantrum version that you just experienced in the form of run-on venting sentence.  Sorry you had to witness that.)  Other than the buns? Awesomeness happened.  I have changed my mind about football games, but only because it results in conning more victims to eat your experiments.   It is still a boring game.  I read somewhere the average football game is about 12 minutes of actual game time.  A cake takes 30-45 minutes.  A cake has more action than a football game. 

The beauty throwing big parties is always the leftovers.  Left over veggies naturally lent themselves to toppings for a breakfast-for-dinner omelet adventure, which we enjoyed today.  Donuts, which  are a food I do not usually enjoy, were requested for the occasion.  I do not own a donut pan, but not owning a culinary tool has never been a stopping point for me.  Donut pan was purchased.  Good thing the request was around Valentine's Day, because they were selling heart-shaped donut pans! Jealous? You probably should be.  While currently I am not enamored with the stores' plastering of hearts throughout every nook and cranny, I couldn't resist.  Hearts equal cuteness.

See? Doesn't that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside?  Thought so.  

Then, much to my surprise, I actually liked these Mexican Hot Chocolate Donuts.  They were light and fluffy and made you feel like you were snuggling with puppies or something with every bite.  I think I could reconsider my stance on donuts after these, but since I only do one treat a week, it doesn't hold much of a candle to the other contenders.

The best part was that the directions to these donuts had an option for blow-torch use. You had better believe I own one of those, except I have been afraid to use it until now.  It is supposedly dummy-proof so I took it out tonight to try it, but unfortunately it is dummy-proof and I couldn't figure it out. Wah wah wahhhh.  Blow torch: 1 Me: 0.  I guess there is always a creme brulee to make to christen my blow torch.  But being type-A, you know I had a plan-B for my poor little donuts (aka the broil setting on the oven) and they turned out more than just fine. Sometimes plan-B isn't so bad, you know?  Tonight was a great reminder of that.  I think I am going on plan-M right now in real life but I am grateful for the assurance that just like this donut, I too will be made into something beautiful and that every difficult thing will result in good.

"We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."  Romans 5:3-5

I'm standing on that promise today, but more immediately sleeping on that promise because it is now 12:16 and those kids won't teach themselves. (Well, they might but it might not be the correct information. I'm quality control).

Good night!

I think I should only be trusted with a spoon. It's edges are round.

Are you ready for a sob story? Here it is.  I cut myself. It is embarrassing.  I mean here I am posting about my ability to bake delicious treats and I can't open a package of tempeh without slicing my finger to the bone.  Wah wah wah.  Yeah. Pathetic.  So I am now in the hunt for a sugar daddy or a sugar anybody who will sponsor culinary classes for me.  It is the logical next step.  My knifing skills are proving to be sub-par.  While few baked goods rarely require sharp knifes, I have been told that cake for all meals will result in the need for larger pants, obesity, and death. Blah blah blah.  So I eat other things and cut myself.  Typing this blog is currently a challenge but my non-bending finger has an awesome neon green Band-Aid on it, so I am not gonna complain too much.

Next subject.  Cake.  Black forest cake to be exact.  One of my teammates at school tells the best stories of her southern upbringing, her nanny and that Georgian cuisine of fried chicken, some greens and a big ole slice of black forest cake.  She NEVER eats sweets anymore, but anytime we start talking about baking, there goes Patti off down memory lane to the black forest cake.  I decided it was about time to bring one into work.  After all, it's only been 4 years.  There was some anxiety around bringing in her childhood favorite because that's a lot to live up to.  I was shaking in my boots.  Black forest cake also has 4 pieces to the process (see below):

You get your cake, then your ganache, then the whipped cream (with mascarpone cheese btw which equaled heaven), and finally cherries.  Many steps, many opportunities for fail.  But don't worry, no fail occurred.  Why I call it a win? My principal ate it for breakfast AND stopped my lesson to tell me it was amazing.  I wish there could be an extra blank at the bottom of my evaluation for that one.  If only raises could be acquired this way... 

I had full intention of snapping a photo after completion of the cake in all its glory to post, but it didn't occur.  The whipped mascarpone cream frosting was added to the cake literally minutes before heading out the door to school at 7:23 and my brain doesn't function until 8:25, right when my kiddos flood into my classroom and after a Rockstar (aka 220 milligrams of delicious caffeine).  By the time I realized the missed picture, I returned to the staff lounge to find only measly remnants of this cake.  Meh, I think I'll take a fully eaten cake over a picture.  If you are really curious, google "black forest cake".  I am sure you can find one that looks cool and similar to mine.

Man do I wish other things were as easy to google.  How about googling the timeline of my life for the next year so I am not in the lovely land of limbo anymore? That might be nice.  But alas, I think I will just have to figure that out as it comes.  Plus, God beats Google, so I think its all going to be alright.  I am so planned, to an extreme.  I live by lists and charts and I analyze the breakfast I eat as if this choice will effect the next fifty years of my existence.  With this cake, I had even planned out of all the recipes made last week, which one I would blog about and the types of pictures I wanted to capture days before I had ever even baked the cake.  Hyper-type-A.  Anyone who knows me can attest to that.  So, missing this photo event is one small (albeit accidental) step to handing control of this current limbo-life of mine to God, who knows way more about, sees way more of and wants way more from my life then I can ever imagine.  I think I'll leave it to him, and let go. 

In case your wondering whats next? Since I can't tell you much about whats next in my actual life because I don't know, but I can tell you that  me and my favorite cooking buddy are throwing a Superbowl party.  You better believe we have an awesome spread, a pinboard on Pinterest about it, pictures planned and probably will make a lovely list of that plan to ensure documentation.  Yeah.  I'm that kinda type-A.  Deal with it. Best part of this party? I only know who is playing because I wanted to make sure that some of the treats where coordinated to their jersey colors.  If you aren't coming to our Superbowl party, hope you enjoy your mediocre food and be thinking about ours.  Jealous?  You probably should be. 

Happy bowling of the super kind!

-Me

My instant gratification is taking 0.5 seconds too long to get here.

Waiting.  Not always a fan of it.  To give you some examples of how little of a fan I can be of waiting at times take example 1:
I was cooking dinner with my friend Amy on Thursday.  We were cooking this bomb cauliflower pizza crust (for clarification purposes, it is not bomb as in an explosive but bomb as in amazing, really good, you probably should make this in your near future) and while reading through the directions, it asked me to rice the cauliflower and then microwave it for 8 minutes. (For further clarification, I am not a microwave chef, this was one step in the recipe and I didn't want to waiver because it was my first attempt at the recipe.)  I reread the directions, thinking, wait, 8 MINUTES?! I put it in the microwave because I am a rule follower to the core but was tempted to take it out of the microwave every 17 seconds, thinking to myself, they couldn't really mean 8 minutes, right? 

If this has not succeeded in convincing you in my dislike of waiting, take example 2:
I was hungry yesterday.  You know, it happens.  I looked in my pantry and quickly selected a packet of oatmeal to eat.  (So I know you are probably expecting that my next sentence will be adding water and under-microwaving my oatmeal because I couldn't wait for it to cook thoroughly, but its worse, just wait.)  I opened up the package, grabbed a spoon and dug in.  Please people, oatmeal takes too long.  That's 2 minutes of my precious time.

So naturally, some recipes I avoid creating as a result of my dislike of this art known as waiting. Bread is usually on the list except we needed to have mini hot dog buns that were 1.5 inches in length, which are not sold at any supermarket in the 303.

This sweet ball of dough was rising for 3 hours to double.  3. Hours.  Good thing I am a multitasker and I check about 23 things off of my to-do list in those 3 hours.

Then you take that ball of dough, mold it into mini hot dog buns and let it rise for another hour.  Are you counting?  That's 4 hours so far.  Waiting.  Mucho.  Remember how I talked about that spiritual six pack I am working on last time? On top of the actual one I am working on courtesy of Jillian Michaels.  Yeah these mini hot dog buns are definitely an exercise of that.  I am slowly becoming a pro-waiter.

And it was worth it.  See? Ain't that a cute little bun?  All 1.5 inches of fluffiness?  You know you want some... I pulled them out of the oven and immediately quoted Despicable Me's "It's so fluffy, I'm gonna die!" They were adorable. Tres chic.   Yeah, I even learned a French phrase to encapsulate exactly how cool they were (and am now crossing my fingers hoping some French speaker doesn't rat me out if I used it incorrectly).

So, I guess sometimes the wait was worth it.  It resulted in the cutest dinner I have eaten in my life.  (And yes I am aware that is not the usual adjective that accompanies a dinner, but it was just that, cute.)  Waiting, while not preferred, can bring something more worthwhile than anticipated.  I'm not going to lie, I haven't gotten that much closer to enjoying waiting and would rather not be waiting as I currently am but such is life.  But until I get that spiritual six pack, I guess I've got some more "life crunches" coming my way  (sorry, lame wording but it had to happen and you are the sucker who chose to reach my blog so deal with it).  You can't even microwave a life-lesson for 8 minutes although I sure wish I could on every day that ends in y, and especially in the last approximately 4.42 days. I am grateful, however, that in my lack of patience I can rest in a Strength much stronger than mine, and I think I'll accept that.

"Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD." Psalm 27:14

Love y'all!

Me

Death by chocolate is preferable.

So, for most people, January is New Year's resolution time, but for the gym rats of the world, January seems to have the opposite effect (at least for this gym rat).  So I have used these few weeks to indulge in as many terrible things as possible, most including chocolate.  Example 1: Triple Chocolate Mousse. To quote myself, "Heaven, if heaven were 3 layers of chocolate."  And yes I just quoted myself and yes that could be categorized as conceited but the reality is is that I said that on Facebook already and then if you stalk me on both Facebook and my blog, you would notice the awkward repeat of the statement and to avoid that, I chose to sound conceited instead.  Now you know.

 

Three layers of decadence.  More than three hours of waiting to eat this.  It was brutal.  Why do all of the good desserts have to set for hours?   

Someone was tired of waiting.  I would have been doing this too, except I am not a small child and it changes from adorable to pathetic.  She asked me while waiting about how I made it.  I started listing all of the ingredients, but then I wanted to cry because there is no way that this is in the least bit good for you.  But, I did wait all week to eat dessert just for this and it was worth everything I denied myself all week long. I get to indulge a little.

One of the desserts I denied? Dark chocolate cupcakes with Cadbury Caramel Eggs baked inside with caramel frosting on top.  Oh. Yes. Batter shots are usually overrated, but um chocolate obviously makes things better, even batter shots, so here you go: batter shot. Bam.

This cupcake looks so innocent and sweet until you bit into that caloric filled Cadbury egg. Yeah, I am not helping out with America's obesity rate on this blog. Oops.

I even passed up my javalicious chocolate fix all week long so I could eat my Triple Chocolate Mousse.  It was real hard.  The espresso beans where taunting me from on top of the fridge every time I walked by.  Sometimes, in situations like these when I have junk food around the house (which isn't often) I like to eat it all at once so it won't tempt me any more, but that isn't a great life decision and 16-cookies-in-one-sitting incidents happen, sooooo I resisted.  You can give me a high five next time you see me for this one.

Chocolate.  Reason number 543 that I know God loves me.  Chocolate has been chasing me around all week as I have been faithfully doing my daily Six Week 6-pack.  Do not worry about the progress of my six pack though, Jillian Michaels is telling my midsection whats up.  I seriously think it might happen.  Its kind of freaky.  Okay, a lot freaky.  (My nickname as a baby was Buddha-belly to give you a hint as to my relationship to a 6 pack previously.)

Progress.  Sweet beautiful progress.  What I love is that the soreness is paying off.  It isn't happening overnight, and it will probably take 7 1/2 weeks instead of 6 but it has proven worthwhile.  One thing that I have learned is that usually the things that build the most strength and character take a while and never just fall into your lap.  You just have to keep pushing through, one more crunch, one more plank, one more jack knife, one more mountain climber.  I have been going through a lot of character building lately, and the "just one more" has been a quality mantra.  While character building is not always fun, maybe I'll get a six-pack personality out of all of it at the end, so I think I'm gonna just keep truckin' along on this one and when in doubt? Chocolate.  And God. Mostly God with some chocolate sprinkled on top.

“Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” 1 Corinthians 9:24

Lost my marbles. I think I baked them in my cheesecake.

The aftermath of Christmas cookie season being over is this great void in my life in bakinglandia.  Christmas is about the only time where you can give platefuls of cookies to the masses, so I have been on the hunt for new excuses to bake.  Not to worry however (as I am sure you were ever so worried reading these last few lines and wondering how I was coping during this terribly difficult season), days after the end of cookie season, I was asked to bake in March at a banquet.  Let me tell you, when my boss said "bake whatever you want, the sky is the limit," I could hear the angels singing.  Along with the request came the suggestion that the dessert could co-function as the centerpiece.  Heaven.  Desserts can be art and now its time to be Picasso.  I refuse for the record to create sugar sculptures that compromise taste.  No fondant.  Finding the perfect recipe is going to be a challenge, because it is high altitude mass product-ed elegance but at least I am not on Sweet Genius  and having to make a decadent dessert inspired by toe fungus and including anchovies.  This is gonna be fun! Here is product number 1: Raspberry Swirl Cheesecake. Ain't she purdy?

To be honest, I knew even before baking this recipe that it wasn't going to work for the banquet but I had to try.  I like to marble things. 

This new baking project is definitely taking me to my happy place, which is probably good because I am simultaneously going crazy.  Exciting adventures are about to ensue, but not before loads of papers and forms are filled and filed.  I have started, as a result of this craziness, to write down all of my thoughts, lists, reminders and freak outs in a cutesy black leather monogrammed journal I got today. (Hey, if you are going to record your freak outs, might as well put them in a journal that is so formal it tricks people into thinking you have it together, right?  Annnnd, since it is monogrammed, if I get forgetful, at least I can always remember my first initial.) 

To de-stress, I also have taken to Jillian Micheal's 6-week Six Pack workout video.  I just started week 4 and my abs certainly are getting a busting and then some.  It has been most excellent, and also a welcome respite from the overly packed gyms from everyone who has decided to partake in New Year's Resolutions this year and that football is more suitable for the gym than the Food Network.  Yup, me an Jillian Micheals are gonna be best buds for a while.  She's got 3 more weeks to show my core whats up and then I figure the gym will be back to it's previously empty state at 10 pm.  Just how I like it. 

Alright y'all, this post has now cut into one of my six hours of sleep I planned to get tonight, and I've got to get dreaming of all those sugar plums and such for my banquet in March.  To come are many hopefully delightful, decadent and delicious treats as I explore the aesthetics of the pastry world.  Its going to be B-E-A-uuuuutiful or so I hope. 

Sweet dreams!

P.S. I am feeling a little delirious and pun-y at the moment.  I was going to tell you I would keep you "posted" on my adventures in the final paragraph (because a blog entry is called a post) but I avoided it because then it turned into one of those if you have to explain the joke it is no longer funny kind of things but then I couldn't not include it because I had typed-deleted-typed-deleted one too many times and it needed to happen.  Thought you should know.  Now you do.  P.S. rocks for reasons such as these.