We Hosted Our First Thanksgiving.

When it comes to cooking a Thanksgiving meal, I've heard some horror stories. Everything from forgetting to thaw the turkey, to forgetting to take out the giblets, to overcooking, to under cooking, to putting the thermometer in the wrong part of the meat, to the thermometer not working, etc.

That, coupled with my not-exactly-stellar cooking abilities meant the potential for things going wrong this Thanksgiving was in a zone I'd like to call "EXTREMELY HIGH".

Did I mention, neither Boyfriend nor I had ever made a turkey before...?

So Boyfriend and I were in shock and awe over the TOTAL MOTHER FUCKING SUCCESS that was Thanksgiving 2011. We pretty much high-fived each other all day long.

The menu went as follows:

TILTE and Boyfriend in charge of...
-turkey
-mashed potatoes
-asparagus
-rice pilaf
-sweet potato casserole
-rolls
-cranberry relish

Mom in charge of...
-apple pie
-pumpkin pie
-cranberry fluff
-stuffing

Sisters in charge of...
-cheese ball appetizer
-crackers
-drinks


Our preparations actually began probably two weeks before, when I started hoarding non-perishables like the people on those crazy couponing shows. Except, like an asshole, I totally forgot to buy my fresh herbs until the day before the dinner (which was actually the day AFTER real Thanksgiving). I went to two local grocery stores and both "herb" sections were picked clean. Except for Tarragon because nobody fucking buys Tarragon.

BUT THEN...

The produce guy at Albertson's was my superhero when he brought me a "Thanksgiving Plant" that had the exact three herbs I was looking for: Sage, Rosemary, & Thyme.


My next hero was a pack of Knorr Homestyle Stock that was a freebie from BlogHer. I used two little tubs to make stock for basting the turkey. Adding stock to the bottom of the roasting pan was a savior. And as a non-turkey-maker, I had no idea anything even needed to be added to the pan.


Since I'm not a big fan of plain old turkey, we opted for one of those fancy looking, "herby" birds. The recipe we used for the herb-butter can be found HERE. It was delicious tasting and looking. And it made the house smell like we were legit chefs and shit.


The house was all set up for guests.




People started arriving. While Boyfriend and I slaved away in the kitchen, everyone mingled and ate homemade cheese ball.


All the food was ready for serving by 5:30.

Only 30 minutes late, which is great if you ask me because I'm always late and with a menu like this, things were destined to not only be late, but really awful too. But they weren't awful. In fact, everything turned out great. AND it was all ready at the same time due to meticulously planning out how long each item will take to prep/ cook and noting exactly what time to start said item.

The blessed turkey.

The herb-butter was a hit. However, next time I would probably cook it for a tad longer.


Table 1 of 3. With some extra tables, everyone was able to eat in the dining room. All twelve guests.

That's right.

We fed twelve people without making anyone sick. And trust me, if we had made anyone sick, they would have called to complain by now.



Afterwards, everyone split up around the house and found their preferred lazy spot.

Mom and sister watching TV in the bedroom...


Brother and his middle finger...


Boyfriend relaxing from our victory...


And yours truly. Practicing my greasy Barbizon model pose for the camera.

Awww, and Biscuit with her hologram eyes. (Contrary to what you've heard about Jersey Shore's Sammy the Sweetheart, BISCUIT is actually the sweetest bitch you'll ever meet.)


All the kids had their own thing going on. And since they had free reign to do whatever they wanted as long as no one was being an asshole, there was lots of running and hiding and it seemed uncomfortably close to Lord of the Flies.
Also, there were costumes.






And just because I don't want any of you thinking my nephew is some kind of bohemian hooligan, here's a picture of him being "normal" with a mouth full of whipped cream.


Also. A pic of my sister. So there's that.


And just so we end NOT on a note that points out how weird we all are, here's a shot of some pie.


Now that you've basically participated in a home cooked TILTE Thanksgiving, are you as impressed as I am??

Probably not.

But it was a completely success in my eyes.

Boner'ppetite.

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BlogHer.

Here's a little video I just whipped up. It's about BlogHer.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

(Since I can't preview the video before posting, I'm not sure if it's going to be all glitchy and possessed looking. If so, I'm blaming it on Blogger.)

Also- Are you going to BlogHer???



For more BlogHer intro videos, visit the blogs below.

Musings of a Madwoman

The Sweetest

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Post Rapture Recap.

I'm not really sure how this whole "rapture" thing works, but I know I'm still working a 9-5 and paying bills and bitching about how my jeans are too tight. So I'm assuming it never happened. Unless it actually did happen and I'm in an alternate universe that mimics life on earth, which is just crazytalk so I'm going to pretend I never even mentioned that. But I WILL assume that if I lost any readers over the weekend it was because their asses got raptured. Or ruptured.

Since everyone was all up in arms about the end of the world, I decided to jump on the bandwagon and plan for the end. And by "plan for the end", I really mean "pamper myself and eat a ton of shit".

Saturday morning Boyfriend and I splurged our faces off by going in for a massage. Now, before you say it, I know what you're thinking. Yes, I AM poor and NO I can't afford to live this lavish lifestyle. BUT. My massage was actually paid for by my good friend Kim- it was her gift to me for being in her wedding. And Boyfriend's massage was a birthday gift from me because his birthday was just last week. Anypoor. We went to The Massage Place, which neither of us had ever been to before. If you've never been and you've always wondered what's like, it's totally worth it. The massages are muuuuch more affordable than they would be at a spa. They're inexpensive because they don't splurge on any of that spa-like environment shit. Not in the slightest.

They have several locations, but the one we went to was basically a counter with a receptionist and five separate massage rooms. The room I had was furnished with a heated massage bed with sheets and a blanket, a little shelf-bookcase thing where you can put your clothes and purse, and a boombox playing meditation music. My massuese was a hippy from New Jersey who was shoeless and used coconut oil that left me smelling like empanadas. I wanted to eat my own arm off by the time I was done, it seriously did smell like someone was baking pies. She was very sweet and chilled out when I squeeked "umm... a little easier please...?" My massage lasted exactly one hour from the time she started. It was very relaxing and I could tell when I met up with Boyfriend in the lobby that he was very relaxed as well because he looked like he was crazy drunk.

After our massages, we headed out for a picnic at Malibu Winery. I'd been here once before for my friend Danielle's graduation. I knew it was a BEAUTIFUL location and very popular. And if it's good enough for the rich hipsters of Calabasas and Malibu, well, it's good enough for me.

No children allowed at this rapture party.


They have two of those adobe huts where they offer wine tastings. The one we got consisted of Sparkling wine, Chardonnay, Rose, Merlot, and a specialty wine they created for The Tour of California bike race. Now, I'm NO wine connoisseur. In fact I usually think wine tastes like heartburn. But I decided if I'm about to be raptured, this is probably a good time to check off "drink wine" from my bucket list.


Everyone was out doing pre-rapture celebrations.


With our food from Blue Table, and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, lunch was PERFECT. I had the Caprese panini and Boyfriend had the Italian sandwich. Both delicious, but I think I'll get the Italian next time. We also got chips and a sausage and asparagus side dish. All totally worth it.


Yours truly and Boyfriend. I had to throw this one in.


Coincidentally, I ran into my friend Kristen, whom I haven't seen in years. I say coincidentally because she is the BEST at pimping out my blog. Just the day before this picnic, her Facebook status was a statement about how everyone should "Like" my blog before the rapture comes.


My view once I realized I'd had enough to drink and was ready for a nap.

Boyfriend and I headed back home for a much needed wine-coma.

That night, we met up with my BFF, along with Boyfriend's brother and one of his friends for birthday-week drinks. With this being the rapture and everything, I decided to go out with a bang.

Strongbow, potato skins, and steak salad. Salad because I'm on a diet, you see.

So, that was my rapture weekend. Did you do anything end-of-the-worldy?

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Pig Cake: The Vlog.

Just in case anyone was mistaken and thought I knew my way around a kitchen, I decided to post this Mother's Day vlog.

A few weeks back I came across a recipe on Robin's blog, Insights and Belly Laughs, for a cake that seemed perfect for my level of baking expertise. Robin's daughter baked this cake for her birthday and and as soon as I saw the photo I knew I wanted to try it out on Mother's Day. There were only a few ingredients AND someone who was NOT the creator of the cake was able to pull it off without a hitch. All signs pointed to my success.

The original recipe was created by Ree Drummond, AKA The Pioneer Woman. Disclaimer: The cake that I made is in NO way to discredit Mrs. Drummond. Many, many, many people read her blog and buy her cookbooks and have great results with her recipes. She is probably a great, wonderful, creative chef/ cook/ baker and obviously I don't know shit when it comes to following directions.



Anyway, I'm totally aware that my cake is all kinds of fucked up. Pretty much everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. And even though there were some off-camera tears, and possibly even an apeshit moment of punching the container of Cool Whip when I realized it needed to thaw for FOUR FUCKING HOURS before use, I pushed through like a champion. And let's go ahead and say what everyone is thinking: My cake looked like a mountain of potato salad. I know. I'm aware. Fortunately, the cake itself was nice and moist and tasted good. The frosting on the other hand... well... I probably won't be attempting that one again. I'll leave that move to the professionals like Ree and Robin's daughter.

I ended up getting roid rage over my stupid-ass loser cake and canceled on my family. But finally got my shit together when my sister sent me a text that read:

"I heard your cake sucks. Come over to mom's before we leave."

In the end, my family ate almost the whole thing. So I guess all in all, it wasn't a total loss.



Hopefully, your Mother's Day plans turned out better than mine.

Oh. And Happy Mother's Day again to my favorite mom/ luchador. Without you, I wouldn't be the Mexican wrestler I am today.



Boner'ppetite.

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Remember That Wedding I Was In?

Last Saturday I was in a wedding. I've known the bride since junior high and I've known the other bridesmaid since second grade. It was a pretty big deal since we're all good friends and the bride was the last one in this little group to get married.

The day started off great with an appointment to get my hair and makeup done. This is the first time I've really splurged on something like this (I did my own makeup when I got married) so I was luh-luh-loving the pampered life. In my head, I had high hopes of walking out of the salon looking like the most beautiful cross between Heidi Klum, Gisele Bundchen, and Helena Christensen. In reality, I walked out of the salon looking like Miss Singapore.

Allow me to clarify: I loved my hair and makeup. LOVED. Everything came out beautiful. I had just set my sights in the wrong direction. Next time, I need to think more along the lines of Lucy Liu and Margaret Cho. For some reason, I thought my stylist was also a magician and could turn me into a 100lb caucasian supermodel. Lesson learned.

By the time I got home from my Toddlers and Tiaras makeover, I only had a few minutes before it was time to leave for the hotel. I decided to get my strength up with a little power snack so I'd be ready for the big day.



The next couple of hours were spent throwing back mimosas, eating homemade Danish cookies leftover from the rehearsal dinner (I was the only one eating them. And by eating, I mean inhaling.), and making sure the bride had everything she needed. The other bridesmaid and I managed to snap a few pix in our spare time. Of ourselves, of course. That's What Friends Are For.



The ceremony was originally supposed to be held on the grounds of the beach hotel where they were staying, but shit ended up getting cold and windy, so plans got moved indoors.


It was a beautiful day. Based on this picture, you'd never even guess it was like Hurricane Katrina out there.


This bride was ready to get the show on the road. Seriously. She left us in the dust as we headed to the ceremony.


Made it through the wind tunnel and still looking good. Well played.

This is where I start to fail on the photo opps. I was busy with being a bridesmaid and posing in wedding party photos and generally trying not to look like an asshole. So I missed a lot of key shots. Like my outfit. This is the best shot of my dress and flowers.



The reception was buffet style. You know what that means. :::Jackpot in my stomach::: This is an awful photo, so you'll have to take my word for it: This shit was DEEEEELICIOUS. I served myself up some chicken in white wine sauce, green salad with a crazy looking bread roll, pesto pasta salad, haricot vert, and mashed potatoes with gravy. Also known as, everything at the buffet.



I made my speech and it went off without a hitch. Except for the fact that I fucking forgot it, like a moron, back in the bridal suite. I did my best at winging it and even got a few laughs which was a relief because I was desperate enough to pull out the old :::mic tap::: "Is this thing on...?"

The wedding had some special touches customized to this particular bride and groom. The cake toppper was a nurse pulling a fireman behind her. The garter song was Fire by The Ohio Players, which I was super excited about because I love me some disco. (You know the song. The one from the Hells Kitchen show with Gordon Ramsey.) (Don't pretend like you've never seen it.)

Boyfriend and I were seated a table full of close friends and we had a great time. I'm sure you'll be surprised to know I had two slices of cake because I realized (after I'd eaten it) that I had been served white cake with strawberry filling, when I really wanted the carrot cake with apricot cream cheese filling. Well since no one puts baby in the corner, I casually sauntered back up to the cake table and got seconds. What. Sue me.


So full, I can't even breathe.

That's my wedding wrap-up. A beautiful day for a beautiful couple. Congrats Mark and Kim.


PS: Mark's dad is Terry Bradshaw's twin. You can see him standing off to the right.

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31 is the New Black. (Part 1)

Last Friday was my birthday!!! Yes, my birthday really is on April Fools! And yes, I really am the big old boring 31. Somehow it seems like 30 was more acceptable, like it was still grouped with the 20's, so I was cool with last year's birthday. But I feel like 31 is kind of grouped more with the 40's and I'm feeling old and like my obsession with Judge Judy is all making sense now.


Anyway.


Friday night we had a few friends over for my birthday party. It wasn't anything big because I'm not rich and everyone knows house parties always SEEM cheap, but end up costing $arm and $leg because you wouldn't be caught dead running out of food or drink so you always stock up enough to feed 20x the amount of people actually invited. Originally, I couldn't make up my mind about how I wanted to spend the evening: A nice dinner out with Boyfriend... Inviting a bunch of friends out to the pub... House party... I opted against the private dinner because we can really do that anytime. And I nixed the pub because all of my friends are married avec kids and they can't get sitters and don't have money to blow at the bars (that makes two of us) and act like recluses at the mere mention of going out in public. So all things considered, I was very happy to have a little get together at home.


Since I'm not a fancypants, everything at my party was on the cheap. I purchased Pillsbury Funfetti cupcake mix and frosting and made the cakes myself.



Party hats and plates: Dollar bin at Target.



My favorite decoration of all: The birthday banner that Boyfriend made on the down low.




The party menu consisted of chicken dino-bites, frozen CPK pizzas, chips, veggies and dip. Why? Because I like them.



The night was spent shooting the shit while drinking White Russians, PBR's, and shots of whiskey.











Once everyone was nice and too-liquored-up-to-be-embarrassed, we fired up the ol' Rock Band.











And don't forget the gifts and cake.



The rager lasted into the wee hours of 12:30am. (We're wild. I know.)

I really had SUCH a great time and I'm so grateful for all the cool people in my life- friends, family, bloggers, commenters, etc. I'm really not even joking. Looking back and knowing I was thiiiiiiiis close to canceling my party because I got in a funk Thursday night (thanks for slapping some sense into me, Boyfriend), I'm so glad I didn't.

Happy Birthday to me.

The birthday festivities continued all weekend long, so expect like two more entries about this booshet. For now, I'll leave you with a quick vid from me and Biscuit.

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