The first time I made risotto, I cried. And not like, oh cute-teary-Demi-Moore-cry, but more like a ugly-face-contorted-Carrie-from-Homeland-cry. It was Christmas and the house was filled. I thought it would be a genius idea to make every single dish for Christmas dinner, from scratch, and all by myself. Everything was going great, totally fine, I mean I was frantic and super busy but I was on my way to Martha Stewart hostess-type success, but then…risotto.
Since it was my first time attempting this dish (and I was 16 years old), I had no idea what was involved. I was way over my head. I started the process of toasting the rice, adding the broth, etc. I’m pretty sure I got distracted by various other things and came back to the pot only to be met with a gummy, dried up, disgusting mess. I was heartbroken. Tears fell. An Adrianna-melt-down occurred. There was lots of, “Oh we don’t even like risotto,” that was said over and over to me.
It took me years to give it another go, but when I finally nailed down the process I felt like a damn professional chef, no lie. Nowadays I really, really love making risotto–it’s actually not stressful at all but it took me a while to get to this place of risotto-calm. I found a few fun facts and tips to help along the way, and I’m sharing them–along with the recipe itself–over on Etsy.
Muffin or cupcake? So many muffins skate that fine line between breakfast and dessert, am I right? Not mad at it. Not complaining…though some mornings I don’t want sweet. I don’t want dessert. I want something savory, delicious, cheesy and warm.
Enter: Goat Cheese Chive Corn Muffins.
Also!–don’t mean to be a debbie-downer on breakfast muffins–but sometimes I’m all psyched about making muffins, and so I do, and then I eat, like, two for breakfast and end up with a bunch leftover. Lame.
These muffins are pretty cool because they can dual as a breakfast snack or a dinner snack. Double-action muffins!
“Roasted Rainbow Heirloom Carrot Goat Cheese and Avocado Salad with a Citrus Cumin Dressing.”
But! it needed some tweaking. Let’s not do recipe titles that read like paragraphs. Not a good look. Also the word “rainbow” is way cuter than the word “heirloom.” (I think.) Who doesn’t want to eat a rainbow?! No one.
This dish is like a plate full of skittles…but in carrot form.
1. Wrapping cylinder objects is super annoying. Like, how am I supposed to wrap the bottoms and the tops, and it still be somewhat presentable?!
2. Yesterday, as I was standing in line at the post office, I realized no one really understands the whole priority, express, confirmation slip, tracking number deal–it’s confusing. Too many options, man. And I have to say, the women at the post office are incredibly patient with people. They just sit there and explain the rules OVER and OVER and OVER. And people are still confused. I feel like this needs to be taught to us in schools.
3. Last night, as I was getting ready to head out, I went to go flat iron my bangs, didn’t realize the setting was on 450˙ and burned a good piece of my bangs. Just straight fried a chunk of hair off. Yeah. That happened. So, if you see me in the next few weeks, I might be doing a little bang pinning to the side action.
4. When it’s freezing out all I want is soup. I want to ingest heat. I think I particularly like drinking heat. That’s where this soup comes in…
It’s Wednesday. I’m all sorts of sleepy. I have a huge to-do list. Yet my brain keeps replaying how Teresa (from RH of New Jersey) pronounces “cumin” and says “ingredient-enses.” Wish I could get that out of my head. For real.
I’m also looking at my google reader and obsessing over my new blog addition. No. No. It’s not a new fashion or food blog or lifestyle blog. I want to share it. It’s major. Just kiss your whole morning productivity away because you’re in for it.
Wait. Hold on. I have to say something before I share my new obsession. The disclaimer is this: Of course I would never hurt an animal, and yes, I’ve had a hurt animal before and my heart cried. Literally. But holy geez…is this cute.
Sometimes I do things I’m not so proud of. This is true.
Like…putting ice cubes in white wine. I’m impatient. I dunno…in the privacy in my own house I like “mom” wine. Gross.
I sometimes buy three bags of groceries and then decide I don’t want to cook and go out to eat instead. Total brat.
I’m also known to back out of Saturday night plans…because sometimes sitting on the couch internet stalking–for some reason–sounds like WAY more fun. Lame. Totally lame.
I’m really bad at returning library books. I found two under my bed. I’m guessing I now owe LA County Library like thousands of dollars for two $10 books from the 70s. I’m also pretty convinced that those fees are going to end up at the DMV. LA doesn’t play.
Sometimes though…sometimes I do really good things.
Like look at my friends dead in their eyes and tell them that I love them. This makes them super awkward and squirm in their seat. And then they usually just tell me to shut up.
I really dig telling strangers “bless you” when they sneeze. They’re always pleasantly surprised.
Whenever a boy, who I don’t know, opens the door for me, I look at them in their face and smile extra hard. And not in a I-like-you-let-me-make-you-eggs-and-bacon kind of way, but in a thank-you-for-being-a-damn-gentlemen way…now let’s get married!! JK.
No, no. I just like saying thank you the proper way, that’s all.
If I’m feeling particularly rich, I’ll put $2 (instead of $1) in my barista’s tip jar. They totally deserve more. Maybe more money and a hug? I’m a handful without coffee.
I can also turn a sandwich into a pizza. I think this qualifies as one of the good things I did recently.
I keep notebooks. Do you keep notebooks? Where else am I supposed to keep random thoughts? I can’t post EVERYTHING that’s going on in my brain on Twitter. That’d be just wrong. And scary.
So I keep notebooks. Despite the weirdness (and embarrassment) of what goes on in my brain, I’m not too worried about someone finding them–since they’re nearly impossible to read. My typically neat and girly handwriting transforms into incomprehensible scribble, pages are re-used over and over, and the entire thing reads like one strange grocery list.
It’s true, I like lists. Sunday morning I got up abnormally early (read: 7am)–which basically means I’m turning into my father–and I decided to just write stuff down. Stuff I like. Stuff I don’t like. Sort of simple, no? Yeah, nothing too deep; I’m not that complicated.
Current brain/feelings likes and dislikes are flowing like this:
1. Like: Making a list. Crossing it off. Completion is so satisfying. Succeeding at simple things just never gets old.
2. Dislike: Having that nagging thing on the list, not doing it and putting it on the next day’s list. Like, DMV stuff or basically anything that requires a call to someone that will involve being put on hold. When are we gonna be able to email the government, anybody?
Summer’s totally in full effect. I haven’t watched TV in days, my nails are bright pink, I can’t leave the house without sunglasses, and all I want to do is sit outside while drinking pink wine and eating pizza.
And iced coffee. I’m eating that like crazy, too.
I’ve been playing with a lot of pizza topping combinations and I’m really digging the whole sweet fruit thing with cheese and some sort of salty meat. It’s a winner of a combo; made only better with a drizzle of this balsamic/honey reduction thing I made. Sounds fancy (meh)…nah! Totally easy.
I was going to use blackberries instead of the figs, but when I saw them perched, looking all cute in their pretty little basket, blackberries didn’t have a chance. [click to continue…]