It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!!!
A MINI Cooper S.
I think I'm falling for white...and the extra horses.
georgia cyclone.
i feel hurty.
hot
damn.
I don't watch the nightly news. I can usually use the excuse that I'm either driving, cooking or comatose, but really, I just don't think to do it. So, of course, when I hear that Diane Sawyer is taking over for Charlie Gibson, I don't think much of it. Until I read a NYT article about it, and it makes me giggle:
"
Mr. Gibson was almost immediately successful. He even ascended briefly to first place in the evening news ratings in spring 2007 and has since been somewhat competitive with the leader, Brian Williams at NBC.
But he lost the most recent contest: on his Wednesday night newscast, Mr. Williams reported the switch at ABC, assuring viewers that he would keep them posted on the competition. Mr. Gibson, however, did not mention it.
"
So cheeky, Brian Williams. I have a long-standing crush on you, and this (plus your reoccurring presence on The Daily Show) just proves I'm not wrong. I may forget you from time to time, but my adoration is true. Perhaps not as true as the tie blogger, but still...it is there.
OMG. Tim Tams are coming to America! What? Are they only coming to Oakland? Because the 'track the tim tams' thing is making me think that they're only coming to the west coast. What the what? Still! Is Pepperidge Farm actually Arnott's in disguise? Are they partners? I'm twitching with excitement, but too sleepy to actually do research.
I want some Tim Tams like mad. I haven't had any in over a year. DAMN IT. Why don't we have an equivalent cookie??? Why isn't it October?
I am posting so I don't give in to temptation. I am posting so I don't prematurely cut into my crostatas and waste all my hard work. Boredom makes me cook, friends...such is the way with boring little me. I have no imagination, but I have great ambitions. Tonight I was meant to go to the gym, then come home to attack the bunch of garlic scapes I bought at the market, make myself stir-fry for dinner, then bake the hell out of some leftover fruit. Not so.
Plan got kiboshed but quick not two miles from work to home. An annoying motor vehicle accident that jams up traffic on a godawful bridge that is normally already jammed did not make the road home easy. Yeah, yesterday was the cluster near Seven Corners, today was the stupidity on the Roosevelt Bridge. Curses to you city traffic! Anyhow: serious digression!
I was too annoyed by the time I got home to even consider going to the gym and I wasn't hungry yet, so I reasoned that I'd make the crostatas first. And I conveniently forgot to thaw out my leftover pate brisse this morning, so I had to make some from scratch. No matter! Look at the pretty results! (First from my effort earlier this week -- peach-cherry pie -- and then tonight's effort, still bubbling and everything!)0
This was my first attempt at a lattice-top. Who knew dough could be so damn ornery?
The first is a cherry, the second, peach. See similar themes through this week? I don't know why I buy so much fruit. I've also got a ton of lychees...but you don't exactly bake lychees, even if they are amazing.
So tired. Won't be able to eat any of the crostatas tonight, and now too tired to make stir-fry. But!...I did get a chance to clean up the garlic scapes, and will hopefully be making the stir-fry and perhaps a pesto tomorrow. I have such big plans for a Friday night, no?
Bonus pic from a rare day playing tourist -- which seems timely -- that I found on my camera:
If I never have to go to the American History Museum again, it will be too soon. Dudes, it's a place that validates my disdain for teenagers...may I never have one of my own.
it's
the little things
that make your heart smile.
I'm such a ridiculous fangirl. My co-worker just stopped by my desk to tell me that she just walked right past Eric Ripert on M Street. Well, she's about 99% sure. I mean, he's him. And she heard him speak in his sexy as hell voice in French on his mobile. And it makes sense, sort of, because Westend Bistro is just a handful of blocks east of us. Enough evidence for me. I totally just squealed like a teenager and clapped my hands...and then berated her for not: a) screaming for the man to stop so she could snap his picture and b) calling me so I could run up the street and glimpse him for myself.
At the same time, my co-worker mentioned that Owen Wilson had been at Poste this past weekend...and of course I didn't care. Paul Rudd was in Adams Morgan last week, and as much as my Clueless (and, okay, a bunch of other awesome turns in movies since) love runneth over, it compares not to my love of hottie cheflebrities of a certain sort. I mean, look at him:
It's making me want to go to the Capital Food Fight even more. Price tag be damned.
