Well, it happened—my deadline came and passed and I had no article for this week.
What happened? Well, life happened. Hanging out with teenaged daughter, going to soccer games, spending time with teenaged daughter’s boyfriend’s mom (REALLY like her!), laundry, “cook-keen and cleant-eeng,” dropping off and picking up, grocery shopping, creating, listening, going to the airport, waiting to go to the airport, completing projects, beginning projects, sewing.
Shoo, I have exhausted myself just making the list of some of the stuff I’ve been doing over the past week! By far the best was hanging out with my teenaged daughter. She truly is SO much fun (BOOSHKA!):
“Hey Mom, let me do your eyebrows. Pleeeeease?!”
“What are you gonna do to ‘em? NO pluckin’!”
“I promise I’m not going to pluck you. I just want to fill them in so you can get an idea of how they could look.”
What’s wrong with my eyebrows?! runs through my mind as I remain outwardly expressionless. The left one is quirky, but I think that gives my face character. . . .
“You had better not make me look like ‘Ernest Borgnine, the later years.’”
“Who?”
“Old actor. Had brows for days.”
“Oh. No, Mama. I’m gonna make you look good.”
Although, she did do a good job, it’s just not something I’ll ever fool with.
She also decided to make macarons. Not macaroons. Macarons.
I know what macaroons were and never could stand them. I just cannot do coconut. Love the flavor, but cannot put it or anything that contains it into my mouth and chew without a gag reflex occurring; it’s a texture thing. Well except for Coconut Shrimp, but it’s fried and becomes a different texture then….
So, what was a “mah-kah-RON?” I can only describe it as a little 100 calorie bite of heaven which reminded me of a “Pretty Patty” sans coconut—they are made with ground almonds! Oh. My. Lord.
What happened? Well, life happened. Hanging out with teenaged daughter, going to soccer games, spending time with teenaged daughter’s boyfriend’s mom (REALLY like her!), laundry, “cook-keen and cleant-eeng,” dropping off and picking up, grocery shopping, creating, listening, going to the airport, waiting to go to the airport, completing projects, beginning projects, sewing.
Shoo, I have exhausted myself just making the list of some of the stuff I’ve been doing over the past week! By far the best was hanging out with my teenaged daughter. She truly is SO much fun (BOOSHKA!):
“Hey Mom, let me do your eyebrows. Pleeeeease?!”
“What are you gonna do to ‘em? NO pluckin’!”
“I promise I’m not going to pluck you. I just want to fill them in so you can get an idea of how they could look.”
What’s wrong with my eyebrows?! runs through my mind as I remain outwardly expressionless. The left one is quirky, but I think that gives my face character. . . .
“You had better not make me look like ‘Ernest Borgnine, the later years.’”
“Who?”
“Old actor. Had brows for days.”
“Oh. No, Mama. I’m gonna make you look good.”
Although, she did do a good job, it’s just not something I’ll ever fool with.
She also decided to make macarons. Not macaroons. Macarons.
I know what macaroons were and never could stand them. I just cannot do coconut. Love the flavor, but cannot put it or anything that contains it into my mouth and chew without a gag reflex occurring; it’s a texture thing. Well except for Coconut Shrimp, but it’s fried and becomes a different texture then….
So, what was a “mah-kah-RON?” I can only describe it as a little 100 calorie bite of heaven which reminded me of a “Pretty Patty” sans coconut—they are made with ground almonds! Oh. My. Lord.
I had never heard of a macaron, let alone tasted one. Now, they are definitely what I want from my daughter for Christmas. And for my birthday. And Valentine’s Day. And St. Patrick’s Day. And Easter. And Mother’s Day. You get the idea.
As much as I have been drooling on about the macarons themselves, the best part of that experience was the two hours we spent together—off and on—working on them. It was completely her idea and began when she held up her IPad and said, “I wanna make these.” Do we have any ground almonds?”
“What are they? I think I’ve got whole ones. I can show you how to grind them.”
And so we began, me showing her how to use the immersion blender attachment to grind whole almonds; both of us jumping when she first squeezed the handle because the noise was so loud, then falling out laughing at ourselves.
I managed to find other things to do in the other part of the house, ironing, etc., only running back into the kitchen when she would call, “MAAHMMM!” I helped her sift the almonds and confectioner’s sugar when her arm got fatigued from squeezing the handle on the crappy double sifter I had (we threw it away and purchased one with a crank the next day). I didn’t have a pastry bag, but showed her how to fashion one out of a gallon Ziploc bag. She made the chocolate filling from scratch.
The end result was, well, as I said, a little bit of heaven--spending time with my daughter, laughing, learning and most importantly, loving.
As much as I have been drooling on about the macarons themselves, the best part of that experience was the two hours we spent together—off and on—working on them. It was completely her idea and began when she held up her IPad and said, “I wanna make these.” Do we have any ground almonds?”
“What are they? I think I’ve got whole ones. I can show you how to grind them.”
And so we began, me showing her how to use the immersion blender attachment to grind whole almonds; both of us jumping when she first squeezed the handle because the noise was so loud, then falling out laughing at ourselves.
I managed to find other things to do in the other part of the house, ironing, etc., only running back into the kitchen when she would call, “MAAHMMM!” I helped her sift the almonds and confectioner’s sugar when her arm got fatigued from squeezing the handle on the crappy double sifter I had (we threw it away and purchased one with a crank the next day). I didn’t have a pastry bag, but showed her how to fashion one out of a gallon Ziploc bag. She made the chocolate filling from scratch.
The end result was, well, as I said, a little bit of heaven--spending time with my daughter, laughing, learning and most importantly, loving.