Speaking of Football...

One of the best things about taking up being a Sports Fan as a hobby is Sports Related Snacks. There are so many fun, quick-worded foods involved in watching sports. Foods like chips and dips and wings and slices and rolls and pockets and sticks! I love it. I especially love sports snacks that combine 2 other snacks, like the Pizza Roll, or the Pretzel Nacho. Unfortunately, a lot of the best pre-made sports snacks are not friendly to persons with Gluten Allergy. Which would make me very grumpy, if my cousin Jessie hadn't introduced me to the best and most delicious combined-snack football food ever: The Buffalo Chicken Cheese Dip. Oh yes.

Rachel Ray, I am only slightly sorry for stealing your delicious photo.

You will need:

20 Ounces of Shredded Chicken.
(I'm a big fan of re-inventing left-overs, so I usually only make this when I have some chicken already in the fridge, but if you don't, a cheap and easy alternative is canned chunk chicken. Look, we can't all be Martha Stewart, and Gluten Free living is expensive enough!)

16 Ounces of softened Cream Cheese

1 Cup of Hot Sauce (I use Louisiana Crystal)

and 1 1/2 cups of shredded Cheddar Cheese.

Optional Additions:
1/3 Cup chopped Jalapeno Peppers (to garnish)

Some recipes I've seen call for a cup of ranch or blue cheese dressing as well. I've never found a GF Ranch I liked, blue cheese isn't GF friendly and Jessie didn't use it in her recipe, (which is bangin') So I omit it, but if you don't have diet restrictions and would like a thinner dip, go ahead and add a cup of whichever you choose.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees, and in a casserole dish, mix the chicken, cream cheese, hot sauce, (dressing, if your using it) and one cup of the shredded cheese all together. Top with remaining shredded cheese and jalapeno garnish.

Bake for about 10-20 minutes, depending on how deep your dish is, or until top layer of cheese is bubbly.

Serve with celery sticks, tortilla chips, and/or GF crackers and pretzels.

May I also recommend a sturdy GF beer, like Red Bridge, for maximum Football Enjoyment?

Yeah,  now that's the stuff!

Why ISN'T This a thing?!

So I was watching the sad spectacle of the Tuesday Night, Post-Blizzard Eagles vs Vikings game that was supposed to be football, and the game was just terrible. Everybody was fumbling, no one was getting any yardage, even the officials were mis-calling plays. It was a really off game, difficult to watch, and by 9:15 Andy Reid was turning into a Walrus, in the way of those live-action Disney movies from the 60's where all a sudden everybody's in cartoon land, and the Eagles were 7 points up, and Minnesota hadn't been anywhere near the end zone so I thought I might just put myself to bed.
Ohhh, but it was so close to halftime, and my husband's lap where my head was resting was sooo very comfortable, and even though my eyes were turning coaches into large sea mammals, my ears were still receiving the game accurately, so, ok, I'll just stay up for the rest of the quarter, and then to bed, for real.
But then what do you think happens?! Minnesota recovers a fumble and makes a 45 yard dash for a touchdown. God Damnit! Why do things always have to get interesting exactly when I get really sleepy? 

So now I'm torn. I really can't keep my eyes open another second, and I really don't want to miss anything exciting.
And then, I had a scathingly brilliant idea!
"Man, I wish I could go to sleep and then dream I was watching the game, so then I wouldn't miss anything."

Think about it! Now, I don't mean, like, put a patch in my head that would allow me to watch football in my sleep. Because I'm pretty sure that would screw you up in a lot of ways. But what if you could add certain elements of actual information into your dreams. Sort of engineered lucid dreaming. So you would still dream, and your brain could do all the stuff it uses dreams to do, but there would be a controlled element to the dream that would also allow you to take in information while you sleep. So I could dream myself watching the actual football game as it was broadcast on TV (rather than say, dreaming a football game, where my brain just controls everything) but everything around me watching the game would be true dream elements, so my brain could still do it's thing. So, you know, There might be some baby ducks on my coffee table, or my husband's head might be a pineapple, but I wouldn't miss any sports.
Of course, such a cool thing has way more valuable implications than being able to go to sleep and still catch a night game. I mean, you could attend a lecture, or a class (except you might find yourself in your underpants). Depending on how we could make it work, you might even get to travel, or explore places we can't normally go when awake, like underwater or into space. By introducing just one controlled element and letting your brain take over the rest, who knows what sort of inspiring and educational experiences we could have.
Oh my goodness! Imagine if we could combine it with my hibernation proposition! Then we could sleep and STILL be productive! You could go to college every winter! In your sleep! I am a genius!

Unfortunately, the first person I discussed this idea with was my husband Scott, who's major source of enjoyment in life is bursting my iridescent idea-bubbles. I hate it when he does that.
"Isn't that a great idea baby!!??" I exclaim, newly awake with inspirational excitement.
"Sure. Sure, it's a great idea. Then everybody can dream commercials."
"No, but! I mean! But that's not...! I mean we should use it for good things. Like education. And football."
"Yeah, but you know that's what would happen." I hate it even more when he is totally right.
Still, I think it is a good idea. Most awesome ideas are corruptible in some way, but it doesn't make them bad ideas.
And I hold out hope that some day soon, people will finally get sick of being saturated with consumerism, and the anti-advertisement counter-culture revolution will kick in. That's another great idea I've been working on.
Someday, Scott Nay-sayer,  someday.

It's too cold, let's order Chinese!

It snowed again in Raleigh. Four inches, maybe? Which in Raleigh terms is EIGHT FEET of ICY MADNESS. At least. You can tell it's a lot by the use of capitalization. Dramatic effect is everything.

When it's cold outside, I have compulsions I have to deal with. I have to watch several bad movies one right after another. I have to wear pajamas, the uglier, the better. And I need to cook. Baking is ideal, but I'm sugared out from the holidays. So you know what is delicious AND nutritious?

Beef & Broccoli Fake Takeout.

Here's what you need:
Soy Sauce, a few tablespoons, add as needed (I like Kikkoman, which has been tested to be gluten free AND you can get MSG-free. MSG gives me headaches.)
1/2 lb Thinly sliced beef (I get it pre-cut)
Broccoli, a whole head of it, chopped up
ginger (fresh - grate up about a 1/2 teaspoon; powdered - about 1 tsp, add to taste)
Onions, 1 big yellow one
Olive or sesame oil, a few tablespoons to taste
Oyster sauce, 1 tablespoon (Panda Brand for GF!!)
Garlic (I buy the minced in oil kind, because it's great for lazy cooks and then your hands won't smell!)

Toss onions in water, soy sauce, and oil (one tablespoon each) and 1 tsp of that minced garlic in a hot saucepan until the onions are translucent, medium heat. Add beef and let brown. Remove and set aside.

Blanch broccoli for one minute (blanching is dropping the food in already-boiling water) then drain (this gives it the bright green crunchy finish)

Then stir fry throw all the other ingredients in a large pan and add the broccoli and beef. Add liquid of your choice (oyster, soy, oil, water) if it's sticking.

Some notes: If you don't like a runny sauce, you can add a bit of cornstarch to thicken the broth after before you throw in the beef and broccoli. It reminds me of snot, so I don't do it. But you can. If you like your sauce a bit saltier, add more soy sauce rather than oil/oyster sauce. Or if you like a sweeter finish, add a dash of brown sugar. Also, I didn't include instructions for rice, because I'm bored by rice right now. But I love it over rice vermicelli, which you can buy at Asian grocery stores.

Remember that there are multiple ways of tenderizing beef - yes, you can buy meat tenderizer. But if you're mad, you should probably invest in a mallet and smack your dinner around a bit. (This will break down muscle fibers in the beef and make it tender, and you will have a delicious way to relieve stress!)

Also, you can skip the beef and use the sauce on any vegetables. It's so tasty; it tricks kids into liking vegetables.

Easy Cheesy

My dear friend Barry Kriebel and I have a time-honored tradition of Jane Austin movies and Kraft Mac n' Cheese. While we're flexible on the movies, (The Secret Garden, A Little Princess, Tom Jones, A&E's version of fill-in-the-blank all substitute nicely, and can be peppered with the occasional Kathy & Mo, AbFab, or French and Saunders) the Mac n' Cheese was a very rigid ritual.

2 boxes of Kraft Mac n' Cheese, Butter (NOT Margarine!) whole milk, exactly 2 slices of real American Cheese, 2 over-sized coffee mugs that are actually bowls, one spoon (Barry) and one fork (Molli) and a whole lot of pepper.
Yes, it's gross to eat a whole box of Kraft Mac n' Cheese in one go, but it is sooooo delicious. And as a once-a-year ritual, c'mon!

Of course, that was before I discovered my gluten allergy, and before Kriebel had to have his gall-bladder removed (speedy recovery, my dear friend!) Suffice to say, our Kraft Mac n' Cheese days must come to and end.

Still, Mac n' Cheese is one of my favorite comfort foods of all times, and I'm not quite ready to relinquish it entirely. After a lot of experimenting, I think I've come up with a recipe that is as delicious and comforting, and certainly healthier than my processed-food favorite. So in honor of Mr. Kriebel, who is in recovery as we speak, here is Molli's Movie Day Mac n' Cheese:

2 cups of gluten free Pasta. I recommend Tinkyada Pasta Joy Rice Pasta. It is easy to cook, has the perfect texture, and comes in a curly-fry shape that is fun!

1 cup of milk (I use 2 % these days, but whatever you like)

1/2 cup sharp cheddar cheese, grated

1/2 cup Colby jack cheese, grated

1/4 cup Parmesan cheese

2 slices of American cheese (optional, but necessary for the Barry Kriebel Experience)

2 tablespoons corn starch

2 tablespoons of butter

salt and pepper to taste.

Prepare the pasta following the package directions. ( If you're unfamiliar with gluten-free pasta, it requires more water and a longer cook time than regular.)

While you're pasta is boiling, in a sauce pan on low heat, melt the better into the milk, stirring constantly with a wire whisk. When the butter is melted, whisk in 1 TBSP of corn starch until there are no lumps.

Increase to medium heat and add shredded cheeses a little at a time, continuing to stir with whisk. When all the cheese is melted, the sauce should still be thin.

By now your pasta should be ready. Drain, rinse with cold water and set aside.

Increase heat under sauce to medium-high. Whisk in Parmesan and second TBSP of corn starch to thicken. Once all the lumps are out, reduce heat to low and add in pasta.

Add salt according to your taste.

Break up two slices of American cheese and add.

Remove from heat and serve, adding pepper to taste.

Relax with a great old movie and a good friend and enjoy!

Nemesis City

I thought I'd offer up a companion piece to Noey's New Jersey Blog, because I feel that anyone who travels a lot will inevitably encounter their own personal geographical Nemesis. Mine is definitely New York City. I hate NY. Which, of course, doesn't keep me from going there, because a lot of things I love, like Muse concerts and a girl named Peppers, are very often in NY.

New York hates me too. Which doesn't mean I sometimes don't have an awesome time in NY, because it is a clever city that will continually try to lull me into a false sense of enjoyment and security so that it can murder me in my contented, rock-n-roll exhausted, alcohol-soaked sleep.

For example, there was the time when New York gave me taco-and-beer delivery, right to the apartment I was staying in, complete with limes for the Coronas! In under 20 minutes! And then 7 hours later New York knifed me in the back via an obsessed Drunk Married man with a penchant for accosting me in darkened doorways at 4:30 am as some friends and I desperately tried for 45 frosty, late-November-early-morning minutes to find a cab, only to see our hostess, the afore-mentioned beloved Peppers, whiz by in said cab, half-naked and blowing kisses, from the lap of the rock-star brother of afore-mentioned Drunk-Married stalker. I can't even make something like that up.

Another time there was the incredible Muse concert at MSG, at the high point of their H.A.R.R.P tour, with sounds and colors ringing in my head for days, and wine on the roof, and the best cheeseburger ever, only to be followed in a few short weeks by a lost hotel reservation, Times Square with a migraine and America's Worst Long Distance Boyfriend.
New York does me a solid: I lose my cellphone in a taxi, the next fair finds, it, calls me, and the Best Cabby in the City brings it back to me, no charge. I love NY!
New York punches me in the face: 2:30 am hotel fire mid-long-awaited-lover's-tryst. I hate NY!

On my very last day in the city (I haven't been back since) I had a laid-back, agenda-free visit with a beautiful girl, a long, music-filled stroll through China Town on a crispy, crunchy, sun-streaked fall Sunday. Peppers and I had crepes and mimosas over a leisurely brunch and I caught a lazy train home without mishap. And I thought to myself, "we've finally made peace, this city and I." And I saw why she loved it, saw it's beauty through my friend's eyes, and I was content.

Until a few months later, on a train back to Philly from Stamford, CT, when in a lashing November Nor'easter, my train is caught, without heat or power, smack in the middle of Hell's Gate Bridge for 8 and a half hours. Trapped on a ghost train with only 1/3 of a bottle of Jamison to warm me and my fellow passengers, I saw Manhattan, winking at me cheekily through the icy squall from across the water. The warm, Christmas lights twinkling at me as I hunched in the dark, spooky, cell-phone illuminated train car said, "I win!" with distinct and malicious glee, and there was nothing I could do but finish off the whiskey and concede defeat.
New York, ya got me.

Enemy of the State

Really, I have no animosity towards New Jersey. Frankly, New Jersey started the whole business. It hates me. And I am always rising to the occasion when assholes hate on me. (My New Jersey friends are always trying to explain that I am wrong, and New Jersey couldn't possibly hate me. If anything, New Jersey couldn't give a shit.)

But that's where they're wrong! Because I'm constantly thwarted by New Jersey every time I cross into that state line. Like the time I was road tripping with friends and had to pee. And every single rest stop and gas station was closed. I was about to have kidney failure due to holding it for an hour as we took every exit. And going outside seemed a bad choice, because of the outside December-ness. Also, no toilet paper. Why are things closed anyway? What about truckers? They have to go. This is a major highway, Garden State! You are forcing people to pee all over you!

And then the time I stopped for a sammich. Four hours had passed without me realizing it (New Jersey has holes in time.), and it was sammich o-clock. I pulled over at a fast food joint and ordered a burger, with "pickles and mayonnaise only, please", because. I was back on the road enjoying my tasty beverage when I opened up my burger to discover I had a pickle and mayonnaise on my bread. But no meat. New Jersey, I ask you - who gets pickles and mayonnaise on bread?! Also, ONE PICKLE? But I wiped the mayonnaise off and ate the pickle anyways. (I don't like the combination of pickles, mayonnaise, & bread unless there IS a burger on it.)

Fortified by a sliced pickle, I made it to my best friend's baby shower, which was my whole reason for braving New Jersey in the first place. It's great. There are babies and presents and tiny finger foods and cake. I like all those things. But I know that New Jersey is my enemy, and I better book it before it gets dark.

So I hop in my truck and put in some Cake (the music. Not the food.) and it's twenty minutes later and I'm singing "You Turn the Screws" in some really impressive New Jersey traffic when suddenly I realize as I put my foot on the gas, I am actually slowing down. And over the noise of traffic from my rolled down window, actually, I can't hear any music, and also, I can't hear the sound of my truck running. And also, when I put my foot on the brake pedal, I am not, in fact, slowing down even a little bit. Which is an interesting thing to realize going 65 miles an hour in neck to neck New Jersey traffic. I don't panic exactly, except for chanting a lot of bad words to the tune of "You Turn the Screws". If I'm going to die, I'm at least not going to kill other people, so in the longest sixty seconds of my life and the most middle fingers I've ever received, I slide over four lanes of traffic to pull onto the side of the road, and unfortunately, keep rolling, because of the current inefficiency of my brakes. My truck is still moving, so I decide to hit the parking brake. ...that works. And then I am stopped, at a major major intersection right where there are lots of entrances and exits.

I don't really know much about the mechanics of a vehicle, but I dutifully get out of my truck and get to see if anything is on fire. (It's not.) I check where all the fluids go, and they're all full of fluid. Two cop cars pass me without stopping. And one of those highway patrol cars. I am losing faith in the law enforcement system and humanity as well as New Jersey. Oh, and also, I discovered on the trip up to New Jersey that my cell phone doesn't get reception in this state. So I stand in front of my truck looking pitiful, even though it's a really pretty day and nothing is on fire.

And looking pitiful causes a New Jersey driver to pull over and ask me if I need help. "Er, yes", I say. He opens up the hood of my truck and agrees with me that nothing is on fire. (Oh good.) Then he explains that he left his cell phone at home ("I'm always doing that!" he says), but he would be happy to stop at the next exit and make a phone call for me.

I go sit in my truck and roll my window down and stick my left foot out the window as if it's perfectly natural to be hanging out on the side of a major interstate, just, y'know, chillaxing. I'm pretty excited about the fact that I'm neither hungry nor do I have to pee.

Then a car slows down beside me and a couple ask me if I need help. "Yes", I agree, with a cheesy Southern-girl smile. The girl gets out, with her long long brown hair blowing in the wind. It's very Bruce Springsteen-lyrics. No wonder he says Jersey girls have a special glow. And the guy gets out and he has fantastic curly red hair and a pirate bandana. Just looking at them is making me feel better. Pirates and hippies are a good solution to certain problems. Also, they have triple A, and let me use their card.

They sit with me in the back of my truck for a long time. Maybe hours! I call my best friend several times to update her, and triple A arrives. The tow truck guy is also our age, with a killer Jersey accent. I'm afraid he's not going to tow me because it's not my card, but he says "Whatevah, I've been towin' assholes all day and you're all right." (Yeah! I'm all right!) Then we talk on the way back about how he plans to own his own business and he's takin' night classes and he wants to have a family, and looks at me seriously with his pretty blue eyes. I think I fell in love a little bit with New Jersey right then.

When I get to my best friend's house, she's not there, so I walk to a cafe and have some pie. An hour later, I hear someone screaming my name and it turns out she's been driving from place to place trying to find me for a while. I give her a diner lemon bar and we both feel better.

Eventually, I get back on the road, feeling shiny and happy. So I stop, full of New Jersey glow, renewed by everything, to get a taco. I order a 7 layer taco, because I'm pretty hungry, and 7 layers of food should do me up nicely. I take a big bite, ready for sour cream and cheese and things. And it's pretty good. But I can't taste the sour cream or guacamole. I open up my taco. It has three layers.

Of course.

Ouch! My Naivete!

This is relevant to the kitchen because it is about bees. And bees make honey. And I don't want to be in a kitchen that doesn't have any honey in it.
So if you've spent even a teeny bit of time with me over the last few years, you've heard me express outrage and concern over the mysterious disappearance of the honey bee in North America and Europe. If you haven't heard the news, google "Bee Crisis" and you'll get about 10,200,000 results. The mass disappearance of honey bees has been going on since 2006, only know one has been able to figure out why. Where the bees are going, what's happened to them, and what's causing it has remained a hotly debated mystery. Blame has been aimed everywhere, from cell phones to global warming to mass alien bee abduction. Pesticides also seemed like a likely source for the bee crisis, now sometimes termed Colony Collapse Disorder, or CCD. However, the Environmental Protection Agency, you know, the government agency who's only job is to PROTECT the ENVIRONMENT, assured us that pesticides were not responsible for CCD, at least not the ones they approved. This is from the EPA's website, current as of June 2010, and their statement on pesticides is:
Our role in the federal response to CCD is to keep abreast of and help advance research investigating pesticide effects on pollinators. To date, we’re aware of no data demonstrating that an EPA-registered pesticide used according to the label instructions has caused CCD. While our longstanding regulatory requirements for pesticides are designed to protect beneficial insects such as bees, since 2007 we have been looking at many different ways of possibly improving pollinator protection.
you can view the entire page here, as maniac bloggers are well known for taking government quotes entirely out of context to suit their own paranoiac conspiracy agendas.
Now, call me crazy, ok well, you could probably call me many more colorful, apt, and insulting words at this point, but I reallyreally did think that the EPA might be one of those government agencies that really had the best interest of both humanity and the planet at heart, and of COURSE they would be crusaders for the noble honey bee, supplier of sweet nectar, pollinator of delicious produce, serenader of dulcet summertime soundtracks. That is until today, when I read this article on FastCompany.com.
You see, the EPA did know of a pesticide that they approved that was highly harmful to bees. Their scientists wrote them a nice 101 page report about the dangers, and potential long-term effects of using the pesticide. The actual report is linked to the article, and you can read it in its entirety. But it might make you cry. And then exclaim weird, mom-ish things like, "Mercy!" and "For shame!" and, "Won't somebody think of the children!?"
FOR SHAME, EPA! You are every bit as soul-less and horrible as the portrayal of you in the 1984 comedy blockbuster Ghost Busters, starring Bill Murray.
I'm looking in your particular direction, Risk Branch V!
Now it is unusual of me to wish harm on another being. I am forgiving by nature. But I also have gypsy blood and know how to lay a well-deserved curse when the situation demands, it, so let me sum up by saying, I don't know what your agenda was, but I sincerely hope that each and everyone one of the TO: recipients on that memo wakes up to a washing machine full of demon ghost bees hell-bent on stinging revenge. You Bastards.