Comfort food feeding memories and love.


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Too Much Stuff and Chorizo Vodka Pizza

Finally…finally…I have the Chorizo Vodka Pizza recipe for you. I know how longanimous you were trying to be, while your knickers creeped higher and higher. Okay…maybe not, but I do know a few of you have been oh-so-patient waiting for this recipe.
076I had every intention of posting it two weeks ago, but the pizza didn’t come out of the oven quite to my satisfaction. Oh, it tasted good, don’t get me wrong! But it had way too much olive oil on it. Looked like Mt. Vesuvius exploded on the pizza, and not in a good way. Must remind myself that to drizzle olive oil is to apply it in sparingly small bits – not guzzles of slick oil. Oops. The pourer poured faster than the pouree expected it to and lo and behold, a not-so-magical, dripping, gooey cheese mess appeared. But since the flavors were delicious, I just had to give it another go.

MUCH more successful results the second time around ‘cause I remembered…drizzle, not pour…less is definitely more. Now that I think about it, it’s a philosophy that I try to live by – no, not drizzle, silly, but less is more. Every year, around this time, I start getting the urge to purge. To start fresh. Anew. To breathe and clear away the cobwebs, detritus, and mounds of matter that has collected in the corners. To begin the new year without the clutter of the old years.
078We started with the dining room, hauling away the old, ratty computer desk (Come on, who uses desktops at home, anymore?…I won’t make fun of you if you do…Dinosaur). Already, the room looked three sizes bigger. Then away went the cat tree dust collector, which the cats rarely used  (they much prefer the radiators, tables, couches, and humans). OMG. What is that? Not dust bunnies, my friends, but dust rats. Think New York City rats. Between the cat hair and the dust from living, we could have made another cat. I’m sure you’re grateful that we threw it all away, instead. I believe in recycling, but even that would have been a bit much for me.

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New Year’s Traditions: Pork & Sauerkraut

I’m fascinated by New Year’s Eve/Day food traditions. Some of us eat the weirdest things, or the most delicious foods, passed down from generation to generation and you only eat it on this specific day. You serve it every year, but have you ever wondered why you eat what you do for New Year’s Eve or Day?
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In most cultures, foods prepared on New Year’s Eve or Day are meant to bring various types of good luck. We’re eager to start the new year in the best way possible, even if it means having to eat a spoonful of black-eyed peas called Hoppin’ John (it’s a love/hate food created by African Americans and Southerners). Throughout history, people have eaten certain foods on New Year’s Eve/Day, hoping to gain riches, love, or other kinds of good fortune during the rest of the year. For people of several nationalities, ham or pork is the luckiest thing to eat.

Living in an area where Pennsylvania Dutch and German is the majority (Bethlehem, Pennsylvania was founded by the Moravians), pork and sauerkraut is a must on New Year’s Eve or Day. Pork is a German custom and the sauerkraut was incorporated by the Pennsylvania Dutch, who are of German descent. Any Pennsylvania German worth their salt knows pork is served on New Year’s Day because it brings good luck. Why pork? I asked myself the same question.

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A New Year Fizzle – Happy 2013 to Me

So 2013 didn’t start off with the positive bang that I had hoped for. Instead of peace, love, and joy, I got a scary potential health diagnosis and every dish I created this weekend flopped. Okay, flopped may be a strong word, but they didn’t meet my standards for sharing them on this blog.

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Haircuts and Homemade Pizza Dough

Every four weeks, I get my hair cut at Salon Mia in Hellertown, PA. Hey…it takes a lot to maintain my short, spiky do! Okay, not really, but it does have to regularly trimmed. It’s amazing how fast my hair grows. If I go any longer than four weeks, I start looking like a Chia pet. Not a pretty sight.

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I must say, that since I’ve gone short and spiky, with blatant red and blonde highlights, I get the most interesting comments from others. It’s gotten to the point that Inge and I will take bets on how many and how long it will be before someone says something when we go out. It inevitably happens. I’ve had a butcher yell across the farmer’s market, “I love your hair! You rock!” An older woman who had buzz cut grey hair shouted “Girl Power!” at the perfume counter at Macy’s. A delivery man in an elevator told me to “keep doin’ what you’re doin’ cause it’s hot.” Of course, the hot pink shirt and leopard print shoes may have had something to do with that one.

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2013-The Year of YOU (and Sparkly Rum Balls)

It’s December 26th…the day after Christmas. Can you believe it? The world didn’t end. The apocalypse didn’t happen. And we had a white Christmas! Well, sort of white. More like a dusting that disappeared when you sneezed. But it was at least white! We didn’t get hammered here in Northeast Pennsylvania like the South did or what my Aunt recently got in Wisconsin.
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I must say, I’m jealous, though because I love snow. Call me crazy, but there’s just something about the quiet purity of freshly fallen snow. It speaks of new beginnings, a clean slate, a new start. Have you ever stood outside at night, after a blizzard, and the bright moonlight bathes the glistening snow with an otherworldly blue glow? The birds have hushed their twittering cries. The world is muffled and time slows to a snail’s pace. You breathe in and the scent of heaven pierces your lungs.

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