This is my Pizza. My Pizza is amazing.

Yes, yes, the dough from scratch and FRESH ingredients.  I DID go laz-o-mode on the sauce and pre sliced mushrooms, but, if you had tasted my pizza, these minor details would have been sun-blinded by your adoring gaze upon my pizza as your mouth devoured it, one delicious nom after another.

Also, if you think I'm lazy by using pre-made sauce and not slicing my own mushrooms, then piss off anyway.

Here it is.  This is my Pizza.  My Pizza is amazing.  And I'm going to tell you how to make it as well.

If you have spent hours and hours on Pinterest looking at a ton of Pizzas for ideas like I did, save yourself the forehead slap and just go with mine it's so simple stupid.  I can't BELIEVE making pizza and my own dough was this simple.  Forehead slap, again.

Another version of people who'd rather be drinking, than cooking.

Ingredients for the dough:

• 1 packet of yeast (they come in a three pack at my local Kroger for 89cents) - don't stress out about the measurement here.  Literally one of those small three packets.
• 1/2 teaspoon sugar
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 2.5 cups of flour (regular all purpose)
• 2 tablespoons of olive oil
• 1 and 1/2 cups of warm water
• You will need a mix master.  Kitchenaid thing.  Bloody heavy and well worth the $200 + price tag.

So, here I am, Tuesday.  I'm nursing a powerfully painful combination of limited at home tough mudder workout with Mr. Price along with a night filled with the bottom of two wine bottles.  A hangover and a hurt body.  My mind is twitching like Macauly Culkin looks (Seriously, have you seen him lately? Check out a photo of him here and even in photos he looks like he's twitching.  ugh.  Yet another "child star" gone down the child star path.  Twitchy McTwitch.)

I have to think of carbs.  Not just greasy salty carbs, but delicious nom carbs, I must think about them, set a goal towards them and achieve that goal.  I drink 3 liters of water today and I pee once.  My liver and kidneys have staged a mutiny and I must give them a peace offering before they team up with my colon and I can't afford an at-work organ failure-to-comply with neurological rules.  Homemade pizza it is.  Pinterest, here I come.

Looking for a vegetarian pizza as we have a friend who, for some reason, WON'T give in to Mr. Price's relentless tirade of "Just try a steak, you'll love it." onslaughts and insists she STAY vegetarian.  She's nice for putting up with that, so I make vegetarian stuff, which really, is just stuff I like, without the meat part.  So it's a win for the friendship all around.

I decide the vegetarian will consist of fresh sliced tomatoes, red onions a SHIT TON of garlic, fresh spinach and all the mushrooms on planet earth that I can find (pre-sliced of course) with a healthy Roald Dahl BFG fist full of mozzarella.   Whole mushrooms and mess with a cutting board and large knife AND I'm already MAKING MY OWN DOUGH?!!  Ain't nobody got time for that.  (Only regret here is that I didn't use FRESH MOZZ, but it was spastic delicious anyway, forget your food snobbery, so yes, that was pre-sliced too.)

So, even though I am making this pizza, I'd rather be drinking, but I can't because my left kidney will file the paperwork necessary with my intestinal tract to go into renal failure as payback, so I don't drink, but I made delicious food as a substitute/organ peace offering. 

Instructions:

• Start at 5pm and dinner will be ready by 7.  Hang out, play cards against humanity during the down times and watch everyone else enjoy social drinks while you silently barf.
• In your mixer put the warm water and yeast together, stir for a bit then let sit for 10 so the yeast can "activate".  I don't know what that really means so here I'd take a drink, (can't - barf) but instead think about how yeast is actually a bacteria and it's alive, and that starts to freak me out but still, occupies me for a solid ten minutes until I complete the next step.
• Yeast looks weird with the water now, cool.  Assume this is "activated".
• Put in your sugar, and salt and put your mixer on low for a while.  Starts to smell like yummy bread. (that's yeast doofus) and add olive oil and keep mixer on low.  Totally mix it through.
• Add your flour and beat on low/medium until the dough is sticking mainly to your paddle of the mixer and not the mixing bowl.  Like, 3 seconds.  It's quick.
• Spray a big silver bowl with PAM ready for the dough.
• Pull the dough out of the mixer and it's sticky, so coat your hands in flour first, actually, have a bowl of about 1/2 cup flour handy, just for your hands to handle the dough.
• Toss it about a bit, roll it into a ball and dump it in the big silver bowl coated with PAM.  Roll it around in the PAM in the bowl.
• Cover it with a tea towel (Americans call this a hand towel or kitchen towel) and put it in the sun for ONE HOUR.

Play a few rounds of cards against humanity, check on the dough once or twice as the yeast makes it rise and one hour later, punch the middle of it with your fist.  That's pretty fun.  But coat your fist in flour first so it's not sticky.

I took the dough out of the bowl, attempted to roll it around (on wax paper) to make a ball, I cut it in half, placed one half on top of the other, rolled it out and realized I didn't have a pizza pan.  BUT I DID have a Candy Corn teflon pan I bought at Target on Halloween clearance.  So Candy Corn shaped pizza it is.

OK - Pizza Toppings:

• One jar of Simple Truth Organic Tomato and basil PASTA SAUCE.  I used half a jar on the pizza.
• Almost an entire packet of shredded mozz cheese.
• Half a packet of sliced mushrooms (should have used more, but the pizza was SO HUGE already)
• An entire medium sized tomato, sliced then halved.
• Half a medium red onion, sliced.
• Fist full of fresh spinach.
• 5-20 cloves of fresh garlic.  Ok here, I'm being obnoxious. But I love garlic and used like 5 or 6 big cloves.  Roughly chopped.
• Or just whatever the hell you want.  It's homemade.  Nobody is going to call your customer service line and complain about the cheese adhering to the top of the pizza box that it was delivered in.  Go crazy.

Your pizza dough is on the candy corn pan - yes?  Pour out the sauce on the dough, SPREAD IT ON!  Trickle over top the sauce, the garlic.  Add half your mozz cheese, put in the oven at 450 for 10-12 minutes.  Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you to preheat your oven. 

You're going to need to use your oven at 450.  Yeah, do that sooner than here.

10 minutes later, add mushies, onion, tomatoes, spinach and the rest of your cheese.  Continue baking for another 10-12 minutes or until you think it's done.

Slice it up, devour it and thank my mother for birthing you a homemade pizza genius.

Here it is again for you to admire:

League Dad, S.W.A.T. Dad and P90x Dad

You know those people, that show up every day in your life, that you don't know very well, but you are happy to draw massive, likely inaccurate judgements about them as you only peer from afar, never engage in conversation, but since you see them every day you wonder what the hell is their story and what they are about so you just make up one for yourself?

I do.

Another tale from the drop off/pick up line.  Sounds like Car Talk's personal limo driver, the Russian one....  (if you listen to car talk on NPR you will get that.)

So, every morning, when I drop off #1 at the school car pool line, there's these guys, I assume DADs that are hanging out in the cross walk, likely talking about last night's game or I dunno, not talking, cuz guys don't communicate...
 
But there they are. 
Every day. 

I have seen them every day and I draw lots of conclusions about who they are and what they do, based on their physical appearance and the fact that my brain has nothing else more constructive to do with it's time as I sit and wait for just the right moment to creep through the crossing before the banshee crossing guard deems my act insufferable and goes all bat shit crazy on my hood again.  I think she's given me PTCGSD (post traumatic crossing guard stress disorder)  Bitch.

S.W.A.T. Dad, League Dad and P90X Dad.  Here are their stories.  As made up and told, by me.

SO there's S.W.A.T. Dad.  He's always got a silver travel coffe mug, even when it was warmer, he wore a beanie over what I can assume is only a slickly shaved bald head, and has a dark goatee.  He's also about 6'4" and 250 and wears only dark clothing.  The bald head, the beanie, the tough travel mug, he looks like he just got off LPD S.W.A.T. Duty the night before. 

Dallas S.W.A.T.

I really like S.W.A.T. Dad.  He's big, tough looking and would scare any shit head kid as well as be able to stop a rogue school bus with his fist.   He's just come off the graveyard shift, kicking dirt bag ass all night and probably forgot to take off his kevlar vest before he hit the car pool crossing.  He's tired of scumbags but is ready to take them on should any approach his kid's school.   Take that mother-fucker.  He also says things like, when arresting said dirt bags, "How'd you like THEM apples, bitch."  and "How about I punch-a-size your face for FREE?" and "That's not a knife, THIS is a knife." and "Get to the chopper!!!."  Well, I dunno about that last one, but he could have an Austrian accent.


P90X Dad.  Slightly balding, but still a lot of hair, always wearing tightly or slim fitting clothing.  He's NOT buff, he's very trim, but you can tell, also very muscular, and he knows it.  Always the last one to join the group.  He also drives a very SMALL, SHORT and FAST sports car.  For, him, I think that's what she said if you get my drift...  Looks like what a dude at his age would be if they went through P90X, and completed it, and stayed on top of it, and it became his ENTIRE FOCUS.  He looks really into it.  The car, the conscious clothing choices, yeah, he's not beating up low life's like S.W.A.T. dad, he's beating up punching bags, so he can stay fit. 

Yesh, this is pretty accurate of P90X dad, though I don't know who the hell this guy is.

He's already counting down the minutes until when he can go home and complete a re-run of P90X in his basement that went from a man cave to a vain cave over the last 90 days.  He's uploaded FIFTEEN you tube videos of his work outs and his before and after shots and P90X STILL hasn't used one of them for their commercials.  But he still DVR's shows at 3am each day, just to make sure he doesn't miss his footage being picked up.  Just in case.

Then, there's League Dad.  He looks like a guy from The League.  Dead on.  I swear.

He's hanging out with S.W.A.T. Dad, about 500 below sea level compared to him, and is the most animated of them all.  He's likely the only one who is talking, and then talking about his league win or trade and how Shiva is finally going to be his this season.  S.W.A.T. Dad and P90X dad always seem unamused, but yet entertain his lively talks. 

League Dad is business dressed everyday, ready to continue his league talks in the cubicles surrouding his little cube at work.  He's all jazzed up, had his coffee, got his "man talk on with his dudes" that morning at the car pool line and is ready to hit the paperwork, hard, man, totally hard dude, paperwork sucks, man.  "These TPS reports are so inefficient."  He asks S.W.A.T. Dad and P90X dad if they ever want to grab a "java" outside of school drop off line, S.W.A.T. Dad asks what the "fucking hell is java?" and P90X dad, says, "No, I've got to re-do day 35 of day 90 because my lunge-squat-press ups weren't up to par on my glueteus maximus this morning."

That doesn't deter League dad, he's just as eager to continue talking to his peeps about whatever they are going to cut him off mid sentence about.


Ok, so none of this is actually really harsh judgement, what I do want to mention is how I really appreciate that there are dads that take the time out of their morning that can, to supervise my tiny #1 kindergarten baby bear as he gets from my car and walks 1/4 mile to his school.  They stand there and make me feel a little better about letting my little one go every morning.  SO I really appreciate them.  Even if P90X dad thinks he's the coolest.

Cooking for People who'd rather be DRINKING.

So I can cook now.  All it took was a $20 Williams Sonoma Apron, a sudden emphatic bi-polar type mood upswing and the energy to go shopping at the grocery store with two kids and promise myself "cook dinner or BUST", and I cooked dinner.  And it was edible.  AND it was delicious.  AND I am going to do it again. AND it wasn't just spaghetti.

Always wait 24 hours before saying cooking was a success, I say.  That's how long it can potentially take for salmonella or other bad cooking to show up on/in your guests.  (=The level of faith I have in my cooking, yes.)  But today, today I feast on the glorys of a meal well done, well prepared, well cooked, and totally gone. 

Today, I am cooking GODDESS.

Today, I am running on a delicious hand made meal post-high.  Did I mention this meal was hand-made?  BY ME? 

Oh yeah.
What?
OK. 
YE-AH!
(Yes, Dave Chappelle Rick James reference).

I'm going to start a label in my blog called "Cooking for People who'd rather be DRINKING."  This section of the blog will include my kitchen experiments that end in disaster or perfection, that always includes a bottle of alcohol, and the fact that I would, absolutely, most surely, rather be drinking, than slaving over a hot stove/watching water boil - but I'm going to do it anyway.  I'm going to be cooking, though I'd rather just be drinking.

I'm going to be a the woman who has it all dammit, clean, well-behaved children, hopelessly romantic husband, old dog that doesn't pee on the floor - yes, I'm going to have it ALL! 
I am going to:  COOK DINNER OR BUST.  Most nights, or just when I can, or just when I have one of those bi-polar type mood upswings again. 

I can't promise that this area won't include dinner that involves garlic pretzels and Nutella.  Head's up on that one.  I also don't promise that my five year old and 18 month old will love these meals, they are EDIBLE and tasty, but I'm not a short order cook, so the children have to suffer through eating adult meals and can pull as many faces as they'd like while doing it.

You can expect photos of REAL food, none of that "Barbara Walters" filter that makes food look totally appetizing and unachiev-able.  Real, creative displays of presentation, even if it SUCKS and actual techniques that include following a recipe, drinking, forgetting a step, trying to undo what you've done by adding too much garlic powder, drinking more and total exhasperation/and/or/success bliss.

Most importantly it will be fully representative of my minor skillset with cooking and food that you can replicate if it's deemed edible.  Ingredients, shit you'll need that might be in your house and has cobwebs on it and, hilarity.  I promise food, sarcasm and hilarity, afterall, it's only funny until someone get's hurt, then, it's HILARIOUS.

So if you need to cook dinner, but you'd rather be drinking, this might be the area of my blog that's just ice ice baby for you.

Up First:  Chipotle Cilantro Shrimp over a bed of Avocado and Lime Orzo.  Or as the lady who'd rather be drinking than cooking shall call it: Avocado Orzo and Grilled Shrimp.  I'll have to start a whole new post for this one, you've already skipped to the end here expecting a recipe.  So just come back next time you jerk, and take the time to scroll up and read my sarcastic self depricating cooking references above.

Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal.

Frustrating a Five year old with Fiction Inaccuracies

Ahhhhh, one of the many perks of parenting.

I mean, there has to be some.  Sleepless nights, constant worry, bumped heads with eagle like attention for unusual behavior patterns indicating worrysome mental activity....  So there are some evening out points - right?  Yup.

My five year old, Number One, was desperately explaining the complicated storyline TWIST as Lauren, Jayden's older sister (the red power ranger, his older sister inexplicaly appears mid season) appears and begins to lead the other power rangers to never ending tease of vistory, that never actually presents itself at the end of ANY episode, at the sudden and shocking exit of Jayden, the red power ranger.

Here's how the conversation between the all knowledgeable five year old who is the living encyclopeadia of Power Ranger expertise and his unassuming, gullible, purposely ignorant parents, engage in a conversation about the exodus of Jayden (the red power ranger and previous leader of the power ranger saumrai team) and his sudden entrance and replacement by his older sister, Lauren (who assumes the role of the new red power ranger and the new leader) rocks his and the Samurai Power Ranger's world.

Joseph: "Jayden left because he didn't have the sealing power."
Us: "He hit the ceiling?  That sucks, I bet his head hurt a lot."
Joseph: "NOOO, he didn't have the SEALING power so he left and Lauren took over."
Me: "Ooooh, there's a lot of glass ceilings in the corporate world, I'm happy to see that Lauren broke through one of them and is now the leader as a female, of the power rangers, although I bet her pay wasn't as much as her younger brother's, because she is a girl."
Joseph:  "NOOOOOOO, Lauren has sealing power, but Jayden doesn't so now he is gone away."
Us: "For how long?"
Joseph:  "I dunno, he's just gone and now Lauren is here."
Paul: "Because she has sealant power?  Like, she can fix all the leaks within the power ranger crew or because she can be handy around the house?"
Joseph: "NOOOOOOOOO, seriously guys, Lauren is taking over, Jayden doesn't have SEALING power, and the other rangers are like, whatever, ok with it, I guess."
Me: "So now that Lauren broke through the glass ceiling, is she going to pursue equal pay and benefits along with acceptable maternity leave with her new leadership role?"
Joseph: "Wha?  "  Think raised eyebrows and big WTF Face...
Paul: "So, with the sealing that Lauren can do as the red power ranger, does she think she can just take over and walk into her role without any prior training and expertise?  I mean, the other rangers are going to take a while to accept her as their new leader and require some re-training."
Joseph: "Guys, I'm serious, I dunno, Jayden's gone and Lauren is the new red ranger."

Here's where we continue the conversation well beyond my five year olds tolderance level for ignorant adults who perpetually fill his life with beyond-acceptable-levels of annoyance on a daily basis.

We chuckle, pour more red wine and Number One, crosses his arms, rolls his eyes, stomps his foot and declares "You guys don't know anything, I'm getting out of here."

We agree at this preposterous display of ignorance and adult level nonsense, enjoy dinner as our Five Year old expands his infinite availble brain space, not with Stephen Hawkins approved data, but with more, Power Rangers Samurai.

We drink more red wine.

FIN.