Apple

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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BIRTHDAY ALERT!!!

This post is totally not supposed to be about me eating forty apple chips in one sitting. That wasn’t my intention when I went to the store on Friday.

I was there to buy seven-layer-gradient-glitter-birthday-cake ingredients. (I was dreaming up a cake that matched my nails.) Instead I left with a big brown bag of apples.

I think it was a subconcious move to avoid my birthday. Typically, I’m totally not a good birthday person. I don’t like to throw myself parties, or bake myself cakes, or even let most people know it’s my big day.

The whole thing usually just gives me an anxiety attack and makes my face red and arms sweat. But this year I decided to shake the bad birthday attitude, man-up and celebrate. So here I am…

Just making myself some Apple Chips.

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There’s a scene an episode of the show “Six Feet Under” where one of the characters describes the perfect lunch as being a block of cheese, a crunchy apple and a piece of crusty bread.

Seriously, truer words have never been spoken. This is absolutely one of the best lunches you can have. Or snacks. Or…whatever excuse you wanna come up with to eat.

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Saturday I celebrated one more year of being on this earth by learning the difference between Double Red Delicious, Standard Red Delicious, and Starkey Delicious.

And all I can remember is that they’re all delicious. Like really delicious.

I also learned that bees LOVE apples. Who knew!

It all started when I woke up bright and early and went to Los Rios Ranchos with a group of friends to get my apple pickin’ on.  We picked apples, ate apples, contemplated paying a dollar to go through a corn maze, decided not too, then drank lots of beer and had a long lunch.

It convinced me that parts of being a grown-up are pretty dang fun.

And then when I got home with too many apples to stuff in my face, I realized I needed to put ‘em to good use.

I decided that putting them in muffins, along with some apple cider, would be a pretty good idea.

And then I found out that I was right.

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I have a friend. His name is Ryan (see the gentleman below with the good form) and he hates cake. But looooves pie. So when he invited me to his birthday party, which promised three-legged races, sack in the hole and an egg and wooden spoon race, I figured it’d be nice to bake him a pie.

And since I spent the whole summer dreaming about some variety of Hand Pies, I thought this was the perfect opportunity.  Hand Pies are basically the cuter, smaller version of bigger pies. They’re portable and perfect for things like fall picnics in the park…or eating in bed with one hand while typing with the other. Whatever.

Oh can we talk about something? It’s been bugging me for awhile…it’s about pie…

“Easy as pie” is probably the dumbest and most inaccurate idiom that exists. Because anyone that’s made a pie knows it’s the farthest thing from easy.

Eating it is totally easy, making it…not so much.

The thing that makes pie a little tough is the crust.  That’s where the main source of stress comes from. Mainly because pie dough has a total attitude. It can be uncooperative, unpredictable and fickle.

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Remember when I wrote about what I wouldn’t eat as a kid? Yeah, this recipe would also make it on that list, because it has lots of different foods actually touch each other *gasp*. This recipe also nearly made it on the list of what my adult self won’t eat, because not only are foods touching each other, but they’re foods that I wouldn’t normally put together. Eggs, granny smith apples and curry powder?? What mad scientist came up with this??

Well, I’m glad that someone out there was more adventurous than me. I’m also glad that I was brave enough to try this recipe even though  while making it there were a few times I wanted to call it quits. Not because it’s hard to make (it’s super easy) but when I started mixing the curry-lime dressing over my eggs, apples and onion I began wondering if I would be better off just making a peanut butter sandwich.

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Apple Butter

in Jams

AppleButter1

Okay, I know that Adrianna already spilled the beans. I am no longer living with my boyfriend in LA. No, I am now living with my FIANCE, which by the way, I’m still having trouble  saying to people. Fiance is one of those words that seems a little too big and surreal to say out loud. It’s a word that says that I am NEVER going to have a boyfriend ever again, which makes me feel grown up in ways I never thought possible. It also means that I, the girl that has never worn rings throughout her entire life, now has a ring that is never going to come off, and I’m actually okay with this.

There’s something else that I have to tell you is never going to happen again. I am never making apple butter again. Never. Again. I know, it must be a rare blog post when the author confesses that although the final product turned out perfectly, she has no desire whatsoever to return to it. To fully understand this, I need to explain my reasoning for making apple butter in the first place. When Adrianna and I made the fig jam a couple months back, I was stunned at how easy it was to make. I couldn’t help but ask, “Why haven’t I been making my own jam all my life?” So for Christmas I decided I would make a homemade canned gift for friends and family, and after much debate I chose to take on apple butter.

AppleButter6

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AppleSausageStuffing

Thursday’s a big day for me.  Not just because I love cooking and it’s the biggest cooking holiday of the year, but this Thanksgiving is the first time I get to cook for it in 3 years.  First, there was was a massive renovation at my parent’s house where the kitchen literally did not exist.  We went out to eat.  And then the past two years they sort of dreaded the cleaning and cooking and the hoopla of Thanksgiving, which was heartbreaking for me.  The idea of having a simple holiday sans stress was attractive so, again, we went out to eat.  I fought for a cooked meal every year, but lost every time.  But this year it’s different.  We’re cooking.  I think they missed it  so since it’s going to be a big deal I wanted to make sure I was prepared.

Parsnips

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ButternutSquashAppleSoup

Sometimes there are moments that make me super grateful I have good friends. Wonder what I’m talking about? Well, I’ll name off a few instances in the past few days that have proven to me that without friends I’d be too drunk for my own good, an unattractive eater and an insecure Mexican wrestler.

First there was Ryan who said, “Did you know that when you eat, you open your mouth as big as it can open? Even if it’s for something tiny, like an almond.” Hmm…thanks, Ryan. I didn’t know that. Thanks. That makes me feel really attractive.

Then there’s Ian, who on Saturday night, when I drunkenly demanded another shot, said, “Sure, Adrianna. I’ll make you another shot.” He didn’t protest and instead poured juice into a shot glass and handed it to me and watched me, unknowingly, down the juice and then I cheered. (This actually happened, seriously.)

And then Travis who told me (when I was in my Halloween costume), “You’re a really hot Mexican wrestler!” Friends are there to make you feel really good, even when you look like Nacho Libre.

ButternutSquash&Onions

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sangria1

Holy heck, is it September already??? Summer, where did you go?!?! I haven’t seen nearly as much of you as I would have liked, and now, you’re leaving already.  There’s so much to do in LA, and I feel like I didn’t do nearly as much as I had hoped. I wanted to see a concert at the Hollywood Bowl at least 3 times (I only went twice) I wanted to go to Cinespia at least every other weekend (I went 3 times all summer) and I swore that I would take much more advantage of the beach being only an hour away (I went twice, and one of those times was in April).

kiwi3

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