Real talk. Are you ready?
On Friday…(the one that just passed) I was a huge brat. I woke up extra early to show the day who’s who and by noon I had four failed recipes. Every bowl I owned was in the sink. Flour was all over the floor. There was melted butter in my bangs. Soo…to no surprise, I had major attitude. Like major. So I was like, Cool, I’m gonna sit outside eat two tacos, have an iced tea and I’ll feel better.
Didn’t work. Came home…still had an attitude.
I decided to sit in my mess of a kitchen and open up a new book that just arrived: Christina Tosi’s, Momofuku Milk Bar. Right after the introduction there is a section…and it’s called ‘Real Talk.’
Her Real Talk? Stop complaining. Keep your cool. Baking with no AC totally sweating? Shut up. No really…just shut up. Your mixer broke and you have 100 pounds of cookie dough to mix? Woman-up…roll up your sleeves…time to get busy.
Her hardbody, total attitude of pep talk is what I needed. Sometimes all of us need someone to set us straight. Christina did it. Girl crush? Totally.
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“Positive, positive, positive!!”
That’s my favorite line from Knocked Up.
Leslie Mann says it to Katherine-whatever-her-name-is when she’s all bummed out and can’t bring herself to get out of bed.
I say it to Teri when she’s being a brat.
I also say it to myself, outloud…every Monday morning when I look at my gigantic to-do list. I have to un-bratify myself, you know?
Monday mornings require pep-talks. It’s just a fact. Pep-talks. Coffee…and pop-tarts don’t hurt either.
Pop Tarts was a genius invention. They knew what they were doing. They knew they were basically just making pie for breakfast. It’s cool. We’re all cool with it, pop tart inventor. We thank you.
I didn’t grow up on pop tarts, unfortunately. I wasn’t that lucky. My parents saw through their marketing schemes; they knew the deal.
But now that I’m a grown-up and pay taxes and parking tickets and deal with all sorts of fun stuff…I’ve made the decision that I’m gonna have pie for breakfast…and call it a pop tart.
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This may be a total shocker to some of you, but in third grade I was not the cool girl.
Definitely not the cool girl. But I also wasn’t the weird girl, the girl that smelled nor the girl that was super jockey and athletic.
I was just way normal. Like really normal. Too normal for my own good. So I’m pretty sure I just kinda faded into the background…
The cool girls were the sprightly blond ones. Their hairs were always French braided. They wore a lot of pink. They were talkative and outgoing. The boys liked to punch them, in a good way (I think). And they had awesome packed lunches. (Read: Lunchables, Cheetos, Snack Packs.)
I was like, the antithesis of the situation you just read.
My dad thought it was a genius idea to buy me boys’ tennis shoes because he thought they were “designed” better. So yeah…I have him to thank for that. I was shy and quiet and observant. And my hair was frizzy and always sort of a mess. My mom, nor I, could French braid despite how many times we tried.
And my lunch…ugh…my lunch was always kind of lame. Think like, hummus, crudites and…arroz con pollo. Tell me! …how is a child supposed to be cool with yellow rice in their lunchbox?!?!
But now…I’m a totally different person. I know how to use a blow-dryer. My clothes are better. That lunch would actually make me excited. And I know how to do regular braids, French braids and fishtails. Yeah…I totally graduated to braiding pro status.
Despite who you were in third grade, everyone can braid this cheese danish. Everyone.
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Schemllo! Hi! What’s up!! How are you?! I’m well. Thanks. I have three Friday significant thoughts to share with you:
1. The Millionaire Matchmaker lady scares me. Like a lot.
2. When it rains in Los Angeles (which is like twice a year) everybody’s cuteness goes up a notch. They bring their serious rain gear ‘A’ game–it’s kind of intense. Boys have peacoats on. They wear those rustic looking boots that I love. Girls look spiffy in their Hunter boots. Everybody is wearing big pretty big sweaters. Everybody is drinking coffee. It’s a good look.
3. I learned that bourbon is delicious in everything. Like everything. Just everything.
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Hi there! I have a request. Actually…it’s more like a favor.
I know this weekend you probably have some important things to do like errands or laundry or studying or organizing some closet you’ve been putting off.
I think you should blow it off. Yes, I’m telling you to be irresponsible.
Here’s the thing: we work too much, we run too many errands, we have too many to-do lists. Me included. But sometimes we have to put our foot down and choose fun. We gotta show our responsibilities who’s in charge in this relationship. And guess what…you are.
So I say choose fun. Just this once.
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I can be a total brat sometimes. Like attitude city, population: ME. I’ve mentioned this before. So when I see recipes that have the name: “Jessica’s Best Blank” or “Best Blank You’ve Ever Eaten,” I get way bratty. I kinda think those recipes are super self-righteous.
Wait, you’re telling me it’s ridiculous that I think recipes CAN even be self-righteous?!? Listen, I said I was a brat, I never said I was logical!!
I digress…so when I stumbled upon this recipe, I was way skeptical. Bratty skeptical.
(You know what I’m about to say next, right?! Of course you do!)
I was incredibly surprised. Blown away, actually.
So take your cute little self over to PW’s Tasty Kitchen Blog where I wrote a guest post. There’s some step-by-step photos–a lot of which include my glitter nails!–the low down on the recipe and the recipe itself.
xo
Adrianna
What’s uuuuuuup?!
Oh what am I doing, you ask?
Nothing much…just plugged away this weekend…curing big world problems…like the issue of how to get Rocky Road in your face (sans Rocky Road ice cream). Were you aware this was an issue? It totally WAS. Don’t worry; I figured it out.
First way: this milkshake. Sure you can use rocky road ice cream. I realize this. But then you wouldn’t have toasted marshmallow. And really that’s the whole thing about this milkshake. I was totally in it for the burnt marshmallows.
Then there are these Rocky Road cookies. Chocolate making out with chocolate, walnuts and marshmallows all folded in. Ma-jor.
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Hey! What kind of real life stuff you got going on this weekend?
Are you about to go on adventure? To a new restaurant? To a new town? Maybe with someone that’ll make you laugh… and make the whole thing that much better…
Are you about to watch your little youngin’ figure out how to put one foot in front of the other? Are you on that tip? That’s some beautiful stuff right there.
Are you planning a night out with your best friend to drink pink wine, talk about boys, tell inappropriate jokes and plan all the fall shoes you’re gonna buy?!
Are you about to watch another human eat a peach for the first time in their lives? This is gorgeous.
Or are you figuring out how you’re gonna make your horrid depressing dorm room cute?!
P.S. I went with the “minimalist” look and spent the rest on liquor that I hid in my ceiling. This is true.
I wanna know what’s going on. Mainly because I’m nosy.
Also, because I love real life talk…and we’re in the thick of it.
Can I tell you how to make all this good stuff slightly better?
I mean, I’m weary to promise big things…but this pudding…is super legit.
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Hi! I have a weekend project for you: Ding Dongs. Yeah, it’s like that.
Nothing complicated about them…maybe a little time consuming…maybe just a tad. Nothing too major, though.
Can I walk you through it? Let’s do this together. #teamwork2011
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I have an affinity for old things.
Vintage dresses, creaky old houses, boots from the flea market, random old family photos I find in the street…I dunno…I dig it all. I think it’s because I like things with history and stories attached…stuff that’s aged. I just, myself, don’t want to be aged. I confuse myself. Constantly.
Icebox Cakes have a bit of history. They’re aged like all that stuff listed above, though I’m entirely sure about its history (if you know, please leave it in the comments!!), I do know that this dessert is what someone must’ve stumbled upon/dreamed up when they were desperate for something fast, easy and amazing. Calling for only two ingredients (chocolate wafers and whipped cream), means anyone at any time can do this successfully.
Can we talk cake deets?
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