Apfel? Kuchen? What the heck does that mean?
Okay, so I’m a teacher, right? A stand-up, honest, goody-two-shoes type. So, it probably goes without saying that I’m not one to advocate for or encourage cheating…
“Wait…Mrs. D?” says skeptical 7th grader. “Yes?” responds ever-patient teacher (me).
“Umm…is this spicy? Cause I don’t eat spicy foods.” “No, it’s actually a little sweet. Think of how sweet and savory flavors go together sometimes.” “Okay,” he says cautiously as he takes his first bite. “Oooh, it’s actually good!”
“Yes, it actually is,” I say and smile.
A funk. That’s right. I’m writing this on Sunday at the end of Spring Break (by the way, woo-hoo!) and that is where I find myself. A bonafide stalled-out, borderline-Negative Nancy, unsure-how-I-feel-about-the-world funk.
Is it the gloomy, wet weather outside? Was it being up twice last night to crying Miss M.? Am I being a spoiled snot who is ungrateful for a week off?
I’m feeling lucky.
No, I’m not talking about the clothing brand, doing a random google search, or describing a recent experience of good fortune at the local casino (I’m not a big gambler, anyway).
I’m talking about a little bit of luck that we can all share right about now: the fabled and celebrated luck of the Irish for St. Patrick’s Day.
So without further adeu…Happy St. Patty’s Day, whether you are Irish or not.
This post is about shamelessly plugging this blog.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
A little-known fact about The Cooking Canvas, as in just Ryan and I have access to this top secret information. And we’re sharing it with YOU.
Ready for it?
“Now this is good.”
These four little words were uttered upon first bite by esteemed and well-respected food critic, hubby Ryan.
Today’s recipe? The Seriously-Super Martha Stewart-Trumping Stuffed Greek Peppers. Okay, maybe just calling them Greek Stuffed Peppers will suffice. And they might not be as good as Martha’s, but what recipe is?
Before I rant about these peppers, though, a story of triumph…
Old Man Winter has the nasty habit of bringing in frigid temps and, normally, I embrace the ambiance. Snow, cold, a warm fire. You get it. But recently, with the cold came the cold I feel…in my face.
Yes. In my face.
I feel like my head, nose, and throat have been put in a vice. A twisted old rope pulled and twisted tight. A nauseating, shoot-me-now feeling. For the past few days, I have had more of a relationship with a Kleenex box than with my daughter or husband.
How’s your week going, dearest readers? Excited for a new recipe? A Valentine’s Day special?
If you are anything like my students, you may be giving your shoulders an apathetic or indifferent shrug. At least that is what I got yesterday in class when I opened a discussion about symbols (specifically hearts), meaning, and their expression.
Now try this next question…
Confession time…I love the NBC sitcom “The Office.” I may or may not know most dialogue and trivia involving the series. It really is an embarrassment how often I will turn it on and how much I belly up with laughter at Dwight’s ridiculous antics and Michael’s socially inappropriate behavior.