If you can't take the heat, quit licking the grill, dummy.

When I have time off, as I do now, I tend to occupy my time a number of ways: Reading, trying to teach my pets to juggle, organizing various piles of crap around the house, sweeping up hairballs, staring at my pores for hours on end, internet shopping, cyber-stalking celebrities, self-diagnosing vague symptoms on WebMD, and finally- cooking.

I've been cooking up a storm here at Casa deVonPartypants lately, and I can confidently say that nothing I've made has killed anyone...yet.

Since I know y'all love food porn almost as much as you love midget clown porn, here is my last four days in food, minus the cereal I ate for breakfast and my 2:00 AM shame nachos.

Friday: White-wine braised swiss chard with...

...chicken with olives, capers & roasted lemons, loosely based on this recipe. So very, very delicious. I used kalamata olives since I didn't have any green ones, and I roasted the lemons a much shorter time at a higher heat, as I wanted them to get a bit browned.

Saturday found me craving these potato-tuna turnovers. I've had my students make them a bunch of times and they are like flaky, buttery crack to me. Phyllo can be a bitch to work with sometimes, but these are so good I don't mind. I mixed some spicy harissa (from a jar- sue me) with greek yogurt for a dipping sauce. If you can get the fancy tuna packed in oil, use it, otherwise just use regular tuna and add some good extra-virgin olive oil to the mix.

I thought I'd stick with a Mediterranean/Middle Eastern theme for the rest of the meal, so I made a spicy chicken, spinach & chickpea curry (served on basil quinoa):

And since we had some fabulous homegrown tomatoes and fresh basil from the farmer's market, I made a simple salad with tomatoes, basil and feta cheese with a basil-mint vinaigrette:

Oops- that's not food! How'd this snapshot of extreme cuteness get in there? Silly me...

Sunday found us wanting to grill. We had a friend coming over and some venison tenderloins in the freezer that we decided it was time to eat, so this is what I came up with- Balsamic-marinated venison loin with tomato-roasted pepper relish on grilled onions & zucchini:

Last night's dinner- Pan-roasted Wild-caught Alaskan halibut with avocado-lime salsa (basically just avocado, lots of lime juice, a little red onion, a little olive oil and some salt & pepper). I served it with arroz verde and green beans with caramelized onions, almonds & lime. The green beans were kind of an afterthought, but holy crap they were GOOD:

Oh, and we used the juicer to juice part of a watermelon so I could make watermelon daquiris:

I planted a cherry tree about 5 years ago which, up until this year I have been unable to actually enjoy as the stupid birds usually eat every. stinking. cherry. before I get a chance. For whatever reason, this year they aren't interested. These are super-duper-tart cherries, so they should be good for baking. Eating them straight off the tree isn't an option, unless eating a lemon like an apple is your sort of thing- sour as all get-out with a hefty side of bitter- yum!

Trouble likes to pull the cherries out of the bowl and bat them around. Yes, he's on the counter. I'm aware that he shouldn't be there. He's just so darned cute and persistent that I can't kick him off every time. Don't worry- the counter/cutting board get thoroughly scrubbed & disinfected every time I use them. I love them to death, but even I don't want my food to have overtones of cat butt:

So, I made cherry-almond pound cake today. It's still cooling, so I haven't tried it yet, but this is the finished product:

When I'm too fat to get off of the couch and bathe myself properly, you guys will be there for me- right?

Thanks- you're the best!

XO

The one where you debate staging a poignant, yet hilarious, intervention.

So, yeah.
I went to my 20-year reunion this past weekend, held at a distinguished and exclusive venue located in the pristine northwoods. Le Casa de Buffalo is a rustic, yet highly sophisticated tavern of sorts, complete with its own campground and semi-residential RV park. Many a night has occured when a retardedly drunk patron only has to stumble home 50 feet or so to their pop-up camper, where they have been living since the bitch wife got the house. Good times.
The lite beer flows freely from the freshly tapped kegs, and the giant fiberglass buffalo at the entrance lets you know that you're in the right place.

Waffle and I arrived fashionably late (6:45, it started at 6), to be greeted by a smorgasboard of our former students. We sat down with one guy that we adore who didn't actually graduate with our class as his family moved somewhere around 9th or 10th grade, but he was a good friend of our little misfit clan and we were dying to see him. This is also when the first drinks of the evening were consumed, followed by the second round about 8 minutes later. And so on...

(Me and Waffle, about 5 hours in.)

I have to say most everyone looked really, really good. As in, "How the fuck are we 38?? We look 28-32 TOPS. Right?? RIGHT??"
A few divorces here & there, lots of kids of all ages, and a few impending grandkids. Some of the girls were downright hot, and a few of the guys got much better looking with time. Everyone was nice to one another, and most everyone proceeded to drink themselves silly- literally and figuratively. There was a lot of hugging and smiling going on- pretty much 80% of my pictures were people in the same pose, as demonstrated here by myself and one of the guys from our class. I just hope the small-town folk are ready for interracial love such as ours:

(God, I'm pale.)

I feel very lucky (now) to have gone to such a small high school. At the time, I yearned to live somewhere that students didn't see driving a tractor to school as an option, and where the nightlife consisted of more than sitting in either mine or Waffle's bedrooms with music cranked and a half-empty bottle of Dr. Pepper getting passed between us while we called boys and munched on Doritos.
Now I see what a great thing that was- we all know each other, and we genuinely care about what is going on in everyone's life. It was really, really fun. And yes, there are a few VERY debaucherous things that happened. And no, for once they didn't directly involve me. But alas, to preserve the dignity of the individuals in question (or, more accurately, to not further sully it), I have to keep my lips sealed. I will give you three words: makeout, underpants, and boobies. Use your imagination, monkeys.

Sunday night I had the honor and the privelege to meet one of my all-time favorite blogger girls. Lollie has been in the picture from early on, when I was thrilled if I got 2 comments on a post. I love, love, love this woman and was really excited (and kind of nervous) to meet her & her Mr.

We met up at W.A. Frost's, here in St. Paul and sat on the amazing patio there. She also invited her friend Hulles, who lives in St. Paul and writes a not-often-enough-updated blog, among other fantastic things. I dragged the Mr. along, we sat, we drank, we talked, and we just had an awesome time in general. Lollie, her Mr. and Hulles were all funny, smart, easy to get along with, and people who "get it" in general. Lollie is gorgeous, totally tiny (even after having a cheeky little monkey boy less than 1 year ago) and her Mr. is a witty, handsome devil. Hulles was an unexpected delight and someone I hope we hang out with again and often- funniest guy I've met in a long time.

Oh, and did I mention that we drank a little?

Holy hell, after about 14 glasses of wine and then a trip across the street to the Russian place for vodka drinkies, it was all a little blurry. An exerpt from mine & Lollie's e-mail exchange the next day:

Lollie: "I felt like a dirty pirate hooker the next morning - I even barfed a couple of times. YEAH! SHE STILL HAS IT!! (Did you see my boobies at one point...?)" Me: "If I saw your boobies, I don't remember, but [Hulles] has pics from Moscow on the Hill that I think we should be scared of."

Good times. I love you, Lollie! You can totally show me your boobies anytime. I don't mind. How we didn't manage to get a picture of us together, only the booze knows why.


Beyond that, my last 5-6 days has consisted of the following:

• Pet hair removal from the house (took ALL day Tuesday and now it's ALL back- ugh.)
• BBQ-ing with friends
• Reading my first 1/2 book in 8 months. I hope to finish in the next 8.
  
• Staring at my toes and inventing fairy tales involving them. My favorite is "Goldietoes and the Festering Ingrowns."
  
• Putting up roman shades in 2 rooms- one of those "easy" projects that had me yelling "motherfucker!" and "Jesus, shit!" every few seconds. Fun.
  
• Minor gardening
• Dog/cat intervention and mediation
• Teaching said dog how to vomit into a plastic bag on car trips instead of my lap- yay, me!
• Visiting the spankin' new Trader Joe's that is LESS THAN ONE MILE FROM MY HOUSE AND I CAN BIKE THERE, SUCKAS!!
• Picking at scabs
• Target, Menards, Kmart (don't ask), Vintage furniture shopping, Farmer's market, and internet shopping.
  
• Applying for the corner hooker's position as Madge is retiring and I think we'll need the extra cash as we seem to be hemmoraging it lately. For my audition I demonstrated how I can say "butt job" in 14 different languages, thus demonstrating my versatility. I think I have a good chance of getting the position...
• Cooking- this one was last night's dinner. Brown rice risotto (I left it kind of saucy on purpose) with bacon, corn & swiss chard, adobo-rubbed & roasted pork tenderloin, and pumpkinseed pesto. Yum:

So there you have it, drama, romance, intrigue and little or no talk of pet feces, for once.

Happy Thursday, my little dirty pirate hookers. Happy Thursday.

XO

Dog? Human? Dinosaur?

We found this in our front yard today (my man hand in pic is for size reference):


Any guesses as to what this came from and why it would be in my yard?

Another view:


And, yes- I owe y'all a reunion post, but as I am recovering from last night when I drank waaaaayyyyy too much with this lady (YAY!!!!), it will have to wait until later/tomorrow, when my head isn't so hurty and I've exited my shame spiral.

XO

Can hunchbacks wear heels?

A few quick notes before I start my very busy day:

*My 20-year reunion is tonight (yes, I'm going). The 15th was debaucherous, drunken, silly and ended somewhere around 3 in the morning- I wonder if old age has mellowed us? I guess I'll find out tonight- I'll take pictures, I promise. Hopefully nudity and/or fancy 80's-style dance moves will be involved. If my prom dress was anywhere near fitting me these days, you know I totally would have worn it. Maybe at the 30th.

*As of today, I am basically off from work until Aug. 20- go me! Sorry, I know that's gloating, but I can't help it. Lucky for you, this means I have nothing but time to do retarded things on my blog again.

*Sleeping with Bubs in the bed is ruining my back. The little dude is powerfully strong and able to push me into odd sleeping positions I didn't know even existed, like "the question mark" and "the vertebrae crusher". When I'm hunched over and addicted to painkillers, I can count on you guys to take care of me, right? Right?

*I'm pregnant.

Just kidding, I just ran out of interesting points. You should all know by now that my ovaries are angry and shriveled like raisins covered in hot sauce.

Happy Friday, my wrinkly and drunky little hunchbacks. Happy Friday.

XO

Weenie dogs, cocktails and meat, not necessarily in that order.

Three days and counting until I'm off from work until the third week of August. Finally I will have time to sew those bikinis and speedos for my furry roommates and lounge by the kiddie pool with margaritas and frozen Friskiescicles.

Until then, a few photos for y'all:

Bubbles in his favorite "Look at me! I'm naked!" pose, also the pose with maximum potential for belly rubs:

Out for a walk with the happiest dog on the planet:

Fresh-picked lavender from my garden, drying in the back porch:

The two best salsas on the planet from El Burrito Mercado...:

...Which we had with grilled bison flank steak, avocado, spicy black beans and queso fresco:

The raw materials for making trouble:

The finished product- very tart margaritas with mint:

My newly-acquired 2nd-degree burn that looks much nastier in person. So very glad I'll be going through the entirety of sleeveless season with a large burn scar on my arm- classy!:

Trouble's new favorite dog-free resting spot: on top of the microwave that is on top of the fridge:

The End, for today.

Happy scorching-hot (here, anyways), sweaty Tuesday, my spicy lime no no spots. Happy Tuesday.

XOXO

Sadly, when we tell people about our weekend, we'll probably refer to this as "Date Night."

An excerpt from the domestic front at Casa de VonPartypants:

Me: "So, are you going to think that I'm a failure as a wife and a cook if I just order a pizza?"

Him: "Yes. Does that really matter?"

Me: "No. I can live with that."

Ahhh...Romance.

Rain, rain, dripping from my nose...

I've been riding my blue Univega bike (named Dirk- yes, all three of my bikes have names. I also have Ethel & Gary, but we'll talk about them another day) everywhere lately. In summers past, I would dabble in the cycle arts here and there- pulling out one of my vintage one-speeders to just meander around the neighborhood, challenging the other kids to races and ringing the bell on the handlebars every chance I got. It wasn't about getting anywhere in as much as it was about color-coordinating my outfit to match my sweet wheels.

This spring/summer, though, I decided to be a bit more serious about it and get out more. I put my saddlebag basket on Dirk's bum so I'd be ready for anything and ready to carry almost anything.

I've kept my word to Dirk- I've been all over town many times over- dodging traffic and drivers that don't seem to know the rules of the road, hitting teeth-shattering potholes, attempting some ridiculously steep hills, avoiding unleashed dogs, dealing with sore "bike ass", picking bugs from my teeth, and just enjoying the general awesomeness that comes from just coasting down a hill and listening to my wheels spin.

One thing I'm a bit timid about, however, is biking in the rain. It's slippery, your brakes don't work as well, and (pointing out the obvious here), you get really wet and kind of look silly, and you get that stripe of wet down your back and between your buttcheeks that feels so very, very wrong.

I rode Dirk to work yesterday, a day where (like every day lately) rain was predicted. And just like every other day lately, I figured that it wouldn't rain, as we hadn't actually achieved rain on even one single day that it has been predicted.
Oops.
When it was time to go, the skies were black and it was pouring with no sign of letting up. I thought about waiting it out, but knowing that I had a doggy at home that was probably doing the pee-pee dance and contemplating using the couch as a diaper, I knew I had to just suck it up and head out in the (still pouring) rain.

And it was AWESOME.

Other than one near-wipeout early on, I loved every second. I took a route that utilized biking & pedestrian paths, so I avoided traffic almost completely. I felt like a kid- soaked from head to toe, grinning uncontrollably, revelling in every second of it. It sounds cheesy, but I felt more alive and connected to things than I have in a while. It was fantastic.

wet:

...but still completely fantastic.

Happy Wednesday, my free-wheeling puppies with wet bums. Happy Wednesday.

XO

PS: Yes, this is as close as I'll ever get to mooning you.