Bad days + pie

Eric had a crappy day at work today, so I made him a pie.



Some days, marriage is too easy. All it takes is a piece of pumpkin pie with some whip cream. ...Lots of whip cream.

A sammich I don't joke about

Yes, I said 'sammich'. Like when E kids, saying, "Make me a sammich, woman."

If there is one thing you should know about me, it's that I have a serious, SERIOUS taste for BLTs. One of those tastes where I could eat them every day (for real).

If there is a second thing you should know about me, it's that a BLT is thee only sandwich that I will put mayo on. Excluding chipotle mayo on salmon BLTs.

I wish I was kidding. A few people in this world know that I have a crazy relationship with sandwiches. As in, I won't eat them if a) I don't see them being made and know exactly how they're made/what's on them, b) they are something super delicious from a super delicious restaurant, and c) they are stocked full of anything relatively close to deli meat. I can't even blame my parents for my behavior.

And I've always had a hatred for mayo. In complex terms, my hatred was pretty much sealed when, in highschool, I watched a classmate eat a sandwich bag full of mayo for an eating contest. In simple terms, grrrroooossss.

But BLTs. They change ev-er-y-thing. I can confidently order a BLT from Jimmy John's and know it will be delicious. And I would gladly let any one of you make me one, as long as it has all of the ingredients in its iconic acronym of a name. Plus a little mayo.

In my & E's world, BLTs are no joke. So, while eating them one night, I decided I would dedicate a blog post WITH pictures to show you how much we love them.



This is what real bacon looks like. As in, your dad trades beef for some pork at the butcher shop.



Life lesson: the best tomatoes always come from farmer's stands/markets.



The same goes for lettuce.



And that's the moneymaker. In all of her perfect combination glory, sandwiched between two lightly-toasted pieces of bread.

If you don't understand my love for BLTs, consider this an open invitation to my apartment. I will show you the error of your ways, and even serve you a Boulevard with your soon-to-be-favorite meal.

...I don't joke about BLTs.

Cinco de Yummo

Let's get something straight.

I am in no way a cooking expert. If that's obvious, good.

Today was a fun day for us. We went to the West Bottoms and checked out some awesome antique/flea markets, where I got the little gem you see below.

The perfect solution for the awkward, above-the-stove space.

Then we went and saw 'The Avengers' at a theater the architecture firm I work for just got done renovating. Super cool theater + Avengers? Holy awesome. I loved that movie. By marriage, I'm a DC Comics gal (c'mon, who beats Batman?). But seriously...The Avengers.

After that, we did some big-girl camera shopping...that's all I'm disclosing for now.

And then, it was Cinco de Mayo celebration - marriage style time! We're pretty low-key people, so our Cinco de Mayo consisted of an awesome feast that we co-prepared (complete with margaritas).

Here you have it, folks. Fajitas, margaritas, chips from a tortilla, and...guacamole?

...We both knew that rhyming couldn't last forever.

Describe our meal in one word? Delicious. Two words? Super delicious. I can't even explain.

Afterwards, we laid on the floor to let our stomachs expand, and then I side-kicked it up as Eric watched a couple episodes of 'Dr. Who'.

The things I do for my husband.

Man of the grill

Let the records show that my husband is (so far) extremely helpful in the kitchen (when asked to be).

But gosh, that man can grill.

Lately, I've been subtly proposing to Eric that he take the cooking reins for a week. The whole "you should walk a mile in my shoes" bit.

Although he swears that having a week's responsibilities is way too much pressure and much too big of a step, he did offer to take the mother of all non-holiday related meals...Sunday dinner. 


E-dizzle brought his triple-A game today. We're talking sooooo delicious I wanted to take a bath in it. (King of the apartment castle said no.)

Feast your eyes upon our...feast. Grilled pork chops (real pork chops, meaning they're not store-purchased), Eric's amazing fried potatoes, and some delicious sweet corn.

Take it from me ladies. If your guy can cook an amazing meal, snatch him up because the food baby is totally worth it.

Throw it on the barbee.

I love living in Kansas City for multiple reasons, but what may top my list is that it's known for it's barbecue. Yum-oh.

After spending way too much time watching Downton Abbey, E suggested we go to a local barbecue hot spot for dinner. Friends, meet Oklahoma Joe's.

This place is pretty popular; we stood in line for 20 minutes, which was better than the last time we were there. I assure you, the wait is worth it. So.delicious.

BBQ beef brisket, in my belly. Please take note of my ketchup smiley
face; I made it for you.

Excuse my husband - he was in a food coma.

Come visit, and maybe we can arrange a trip to Joe's. You'll have to twist my arm, though.

So easy it shouldn't taste this good.

E loves pizza. We're convinced he could eat it every day. Statistics show that if I ask my husband what he wants for dinner, 90% of the time he'll say pizza. Do you see my problem?

I came across an awesome recipe (check out this book) for barbecue chicken pizza. I knew this would be risky; E's last experience with barbecue chicken pizza did not meet his taste requirements. It was do or die, folks.

Victory is sweet, in this case, in the form of delicious pizza. Here's the recipe:

1 pizza crust (You can make your own, if you like. For the first attempt, I used a pre-made Pillsbury crust.)
1+ cup of cubed chicken, cooked
1/2 cup of chosen barbecue sauce (or more, if you'd like)
Mozzarella cheese

1. Follow the instructions for your pizza crust. With the Pillsbury crust, I always bake it for 5-7 minutes before adding the toppings.
2. Add barbecue sauce, chicken, and cheese, in whichever order you want. :)
3. Resume instructions for baking your pizza.
4. Enjoy with drink of choice.

Ye-ah, buddy.

I wish I could e-relay how easy this recipe is in relation to how awesome it tastes.

There is a robot living in my kitchen.

And it's name is KitchenAid mixer.

When I was perusing the aisles of Bed Bath & Beyond while selecting items for our wedding registry, one of the first things I scanned was the staple KitchenAid mixer. Even though I'd never used one of these babies, the thrill of conquering dozens of recipes and having my own mini Food Network filled me.

After one trial run with my pistachio-colored appliance, I understand why people like these things. This bad boy isn't a simple kitchen appliance; it's a 26-lb. machine. It gave me a batch of delicious homemade bread and a book of delicious-sounding recipes (from where I got the bread recipe), plus a thorough manual (in three languages) on how to use my new robot. Just wait until you meet my blender.

Pistachio, and the bread.