Food, glorious, food

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Last night, the Husband's company had a little dinner party at the Kitchen Conservatory. We've done this with his firm before, and it was really a lot of fun.

The concept is this: You show up as a group, and with the guidance of two executive chefs from local restaurants, learn to cook your own gourmet meal. Then, once your gourmet meal is complete, you sit down together and eat the delicious food prepared by your own hands.

As I have demonstrated in the past, I lack somewhat in the cooking area. Not the baking area. I rock the baking area like nobody's business. But the cooking area? Not so much.

So, I made it my mission last night to extract every ounce of cooking knowledge I could from our chef. I followed him around like a puppy, observing everything he did. To his credit, he was very patient with my seemingly endless list of questions, and I learned a great deal. Like, did you know that you can make your own ravioli from scratch?

I know. I always thought it just came in a frozen package from the store.

Last night, as I was devouring our butternut squash/mushroom/duck ravioli, I saw the call for greater things from my kitchen.

And, as I am always so kind and thoughtful, I thought I'd teach you some of the basics I learned last night. Because if one has to start somewhere, it should always be at the beginning.

Like, for example, this is not food:
And this IS food:
Once again, not food:
Food:

I know, right?

This one may offend several mothers out there, but this is definitely NOT food:


And this scary looking creature IS food:And finally, not a family meal:

['What?' says my inner Stie, her voice incredulous. I know, I know. But it's true. I think there is actually very little food in anything on that menu.]

Instead, I want to opt for one like this, prepared lovingly by hand from fresh ingredients, topped off with a prayer of thanks for the bounty before me:
If only.

Oh, yeah, and one thing I forgot. My chef did admit that everything in a restaurant tastes so good because it is really chock full of this:


Any questions?

Miscellany

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Not sure what happened with my comments on the last post. I got several emails telling me you were unable to leave me a comment.

We can't have that now, can we?

I changed it back to the comments pop-up window, blindly hoping that fixes it. Goodness knows, this girl needs her comments to get her through an otherwise very un-complimentary daily life.

BTW, I'm betting Mr. Obama had one HELL of a party last night. Anyone stay up to watch history being made? I've been fighting a cold and just couldn't do it.

Well done, Mr. President.

On road trips and fraidy cats

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We're back from our weekend jaunt to Denver, and I must say, it was well worth the 12-hour car ride each way.

Not because of the last-minute victory which made the Husband absolutely ecstatic, but because we got to hang out with these people that we love:

And we got to go trick-or-treating with our cousins, which is a first for us, having always lived away from family:

Trick-or-treating was fun for everyone except Hannah. She was terrified of anything resembling a spiderweb, skeleton, or bat.

Yeah. Which apparently pretty much makes up the whole of Halloween.

So, I gently explained to her that no doors, no candy was going to be the policy of the night. Even when she begged me to go to the door FOR her, I held firm. I mean, after all, that's less candy for me to consume while she's sleeping, right?

But lucky for her, cousin Will has a soft spot for little fraidy cat girls. At every house she refused to approach, he would ask for an extra piece of candy, and bring it to her himself.

Her own mother was not so kind.

But all in all, the trip was fantastic. How would it be otherwise with the weather a balmy 75 degrees, the BYU game a success, and the company hilarious? We really hated to see it end.

If only we could click our ruby red heels and be home in an instant. Those last few hours in the car got to be a little long.

P.S. Did you vote today? I did. And it was worth waiting in line for over an hour for. Man, I love this country of ours.

What is it they say about the best laid plans?

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Well, interpeeps, I had some grand ideas for posts this week that I was hoping would pull me out of my blogging slump.

I was going to find all the old Halloween photos from years gone by and post them here so you could ooh and ahh at my darling babies, you know, when they were babies.

I was going to make a really yummy soup and post pictures and directions to entice you all to make it.

I was going to let you into the world that was my frighteningly pious 19-year-old psyche and share some old journal entries I just found in the basement.

But, these good intentions have gone by the wayside. And come tomorrow morning, I will be waking at the unholy hour of four a.m. for a little spontaneous road trip with the family.

See, when your husband happily tells you he has taken Halloween off from work, don't mentally start making any plans for lunch dates, afternoon matinees, or any other afternoon delights. For, you see, about three-point-seven seconds later, he will sweetly bring up the fact that there is a BYU game in Colorado this weekend, and wouldn't it be great if we all went?

So, we're going.

I'm actually excited because it means I will get to spend time with one of my favorite sisters-in-law (sorry, she's blogless or I'd link) and I get to sit in the car for several uninterrupted hours with a large stack of books by my side.

And I get to miss church. (Which is definitely something my pious 19-year-old self would not be happy about. Please don't tell her. She'd definitely have words to say about that.)

So, Happy Halloween. And, I guess, Go Cougs.

Pretending to be what I want to be

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Recently, I have decided that if I want to ever get any better at this photography thing, I'd better start taking pictures of people other than my own children.

So, I begged and borrowed, pleaded and whined, and stole a baby or two from friends. Here are some of my favorites. I know I have a long way to go, and a lot to learn, but it's very fun to take pictures of children I don't acatually have to pay to pose for me. Mine have become so sick of it, that they will not comply unless given cold, hard cash.

I know, right? Who said they could be such selfish capitalists?

Lucky for me, most of these babies and kids are too young and nice to know any better:






Got any kids I can practice on?

Send them only if they work for free. This ain't no paying gig.