baked oats green chile chicken enchiladas chow mein bakery-style butter cookies

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archive for August 2008

daring bakers: chocolate eclairs

Sunday, August 31st, 2008

To my darling Daring Bakers: I had planned to make the challenge this weekend, but was thwarted by a traitor within our own ranks: my appendix! I am typing from my hospital room right now – they said they’d have to keep me here for a few days. My apologies to our wonderful hosts Meeta and Tony because they are not only two of my favorite bloggers, but Meeta picked a recipe I really wanted to make. Please see what the rest of the lovely (and handsome) Daring Bakers made by visiting their blogroll. And as always, pay homage to the great ones, our founders: Lis and Ivonne. Besos, Bisous, xxoo.

not again

Thursday, August 28th, 2008

I’m headed to the ER, kids. If I’m lucky, I will be able to catch a live feed of the DNC while I wait my ass off for someone to come poke and prod me every hour and tell me they don’t know what’s wrong – just like the last time. heeee! [Yup! That’s sarcasm, for the sarcasm-impaired.] In the meantime, stay off the streets.

[Edit 12:30 am] Looks like I have a date with surgery in the morning. Hey, at least we now know the culprit. So long appendix!

a good 24 hours

Saturday, August 23rd, 2008

it’s my blog, and i will cuss if i want to
Not too long ago, my dear Tartelette posted about a friend who is ill with terminal cancer. A commenter had complained that her posts were too depressing. And yesterday I posted about what *I* look for in blogs and got a commenter telling me that my posts were negative and angry, that my criticism is harsh and arrogant, that I shouldn’t hold people up to the same high standards I have for myself. Anyone who has been paying attention to this blog for more than ONE HOUR knows that I am not writing to make others feel good. I write for me. The folks who join the ride have a good inkling of what to expect. If you can’t handle the reality, this is not a blog for you. I don’t pull punches and I am not about to sugar-coat my life and my observations so as not to disturb the sensitive feelings of blokes in their imaginary world of Happy-Go-Lucky. Yes, please stay the hell fuck* away from my blog. As Tartelette said, “You will not be missed.”

*used for emphasis, to indicate that I have strong feelings about this directive

anniversary dinner
Our eleventh wedding anniversary was in March and my ILs sent us a gift certificate to The Flagstaff House as a gift. It was incredibly generous and sweet of them. We decided to postpone dining there since I felt like crap, couldn’t taste food, and probably wouldn’t enjoy the meal as I was in the middle of (frakking) chemo. But at last, we made excellent use of the gift card and enjoyed the 9 course chef’s tasting menu Friday evening.

The Flagstaff House is the premier restaurant in Boulder, boasting a wine tome rather than the usual wine list, that consistently garners the distinction of making Wine Spectator’s Top Ten Wine Lists in the World. We have had the very very good fortune to dine there four times. The first time was after Jeremy was offered his faculty position, the second time was for our tenth anniversary, the third time was for the same anniversary but with Jeremy’s parents (they wanted to celebrate with us), and now!

complimentary: blue cheese and fig on top, house salmon on the bottom

**Jump for more butter**