Note to self: Never again follow three glasses of Champagne with a Martini.

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will know that I am not much of a drinker. I volunteer to be the designated driver simply because I cannot handle my alcohol. Well, that and I just don't really care for the stuff. Mind you, I will have a cocktail every now and again and take one for the team (see above), but when I say 'a' cocktail, I mean that as in 'singular' and nursed all night. That's my limit. Hence the 'Note to self'.

A sweet friend of mine celebrated a milestone birthday a couple of weeks ago, but we officially celebrated it this past weekend with a night on the town in the beautiful city of Toronto. Five Scots and one American. These girls know how to have a good time. Trust me, I know this all too well first hand....

Four score and seven years ago, just a couple weeks shy of my wedding day, Three of these lovely Scots were responsible for planning and executing my hen night. It was the first and last time in my life I was intoxicated to the point that I couldn't remember anything that had happened the night before. Not my finest, shiniest, or proudest moment. The embarrassing part about it? Wine coolers were the main culprit for my inebriated state. Yes. Wine coolers. Nothing wrong with that, but it would have been nice to brag it was tequila or vodka shooters that did me in. Ah, good times.

This morning I woke with a bad headache and my sweet girl wanting to have a tea party for eight of her closest friends. I did my best to be a gracious guest, but Sleeping Beauty and Hello Kitty were giving me evil stares and I swear Barbie gave me the stink eye. I never did trust Barbie. 

But I trust that you will love these cupcakes. They're chocolatey and boozy. In a really good way. No more cocktails for a long while. Unless they come in the form of a cupcake. 

Then I'll leave the driving to someone else and really let my hair down.

KAHLUA MUDSLIDE CUPCAKES

Cupcake recipe adapted from Worth the Whisk

Cupcakes 

2¼ cups all purpose flour
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
1½ teaspoons baking soda
¾ cup brewed coffee

 ¾ cup Kahlua Coffee Liqueur
3 eggs 

¾ cup granulated sugar
½ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 cup packed light brown sugar

Kahlua Buttercream Frosting  

¾ cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
6 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted
4 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted
6 tablespoons Kahlua Coffee Liqueur

6 tablespoons Bailey's Irish Cream Liqueur

2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste or pure vanilla extract
3 tablespoons brewed coffee

Garnish

Chocolate shavings

White chocolate cappuccino sticks

Preheat oven to 350ºF. Line two 12 cup muffin pans with paper liners.

In a medium bowl, sift or whisk flour, cocoa powder, and baking soda together. In a small bowl, combine coffee and Kahlua together. Set both aside.

Using a hand or stand mixer, cream butter and both sugars until light and fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time. Alternately add flour mixture and coffee mixture to butter mixture, beginning and ending with flour mixture. 

Using an ice cream scoop with a retractable mechanism, fill liners about ¾ full. Bake for 18-20 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Allow cupcakes to cool for several minutes before transferring to a wire rack to cool completely.

To make the buttercream frosting:

Beat butter until pale in color. Slowly add powdered sugar, coffee, and both liqueurs until frosting starts to comes together. Add the cocoa powder and increase speed. Beat for several minutes until frosting is smooth and fluffy.

Pipe or spread onto cupcakes and garnish with chocolate shavings and/or chocolate cappuccino sticks, if desired. 

Yields: 24 Kahlua Mudslide Cupcakes.

So this dairy-free situation has me all nutso.

It really does.

Every time I go for a piece of cheese or glass of milk, my brain goes into protective overdrive and literally makes my 'sensible' other hand smack the dairy-grabbing one up against the wall, wrestles it to the ground, and makes it surrender by screaming, 'Mercy'. Not the song, although that would be hilarious. But just know that I don't condone violence. Consider this a sibling rivalry situation.

I mean, I feel SO MUCH better sans dairy, like oodles better, but it's not like I had to go cold turkey, right? I can still have a small morsel of enjoyment, can't I? Cheese was my thing. My compadre. My go-to comfort food. Let's not discuss the macaroni and cheese I've been scratching my eyes out to have. I just know how bad I will feel afterwards if I do and I'm not ready to go back that far into the dark side. Just not yet anyway. 

This whole situation is like a bad romance.

But I need something. I miss it and I've been sooooo good. I figured if I'm going to make my digestive system go through all sorts of helter skelter for the next 12-24 hours, I should make it worthwhile.

So made some rice pudding. Why not? I suppose it's the lesser of the two evils.

But this is not just any rice pudding. Oh, no siree. If you love rice pudding or you think you do, this version takes it to a whole other level. Trust me.

I know it's about to get all Battlestar Galactica from the depths within.

But it's one mission I am willing to accept.

Coconut Basmati Rice Pudding

1 cup Basmati rice, uncooked

1 cup coconut milk
2 cups whole milk*

½ cup heavy cream*

½ cup granulated sugar

1 vanilla bean, seeds scraped out

¼ teaspoon nutmeg

½ teaspoon cardamom or cinnamon or ¼ teaspoon of both
½ cup raisins, if desired
Toasted coconut for garnish

*This recipe can also be made dairy-free and vegan. You can substitute the whole milk and heavy cream with water, coconut water, rice milk, soy milk, or almond milk. Amounts may need to be slightly adjusted.

Thoroughly wash rice until water runs clear. Set aside.

Pour milk, coconut milk, and heavy cream into a large saucepan over medium heat. Add sugar, vanilla seeds, nutmeg, and cardamom or cinnamon (or both). Bring to a rapid boil and add rice. Cover pan, reduce to low heat, and simmer for 20-25 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Yields: 4 servings.

I'm often intrigued by the mad skills the chefs that are featured, have. You see, I love to cook and I obviously love to bake, but I'm not much of a creative either, if you will. I'm definitely more adventurous when it comes to cooking, but baking is a whole other brioche. Mainly because it's a science. And science is very finicky. I should know. I've blown up, broken, and corroded my fair share of beakers and Bunsen burners in high school just to see what would happen when I mixed certain acids with Dr. Pepper. 

I have no problem duplicating a recipe, but if I had to come up with a dessert using 4 ingredients like Goji berries, rum, Limburger cheese, and Eye of Newt in under 30 minutes, you'd very likely find me in a corner, with the bottle of rum in hand, tucked into a fetal position, rocking myself, singing 'Soft Kitty'. (Can I get an AMEN Big Bang fans?)

You see, I'm more of what you'd call a tweaker. 

Unfortunately, by being a tweaker, one tends to have A LOT of kitchen disasters. More than one cares to admit. It's so disappointing because when a recipe goes belly up, especially when it was perfect to begin with, all I can think about is the time and ingredients I've just wasted. On a positive note, I guess it's very possible that one could conjure up enough smoke to set off the alarms to have the firefighters fire department come out and see what the commotion is all about. That could make one forget one's mishaps. Very quickly.

Thankfully, this was one of those desserts I tweaked that had neither smoke, tears, nor upset in the outcome. I'm not much of a malted milk kind of gal to begin with, but throw chocolate into it and we. have. got. ourselves. a. party. Heck, throw chocolate into anything and I guarantee a party somewhere.

Seriously folks, this is really good. Especially shared with a firefighter. Topless.

Him. Not you. But either way, I won't judge.

Recipe adapted, tweaked, and renamed from paper, plate, and plane

2½ cups Oreo Baking Crumbs or Famous Chocolate Wafers
⅓ cup butter, melted




Preheat oven to 350ºF.

Using a food processor, grind cookies to a fine crumb. Transfer crumbs into a small bowl and add melted butter. Mix together with a fork until incorporated. Place crumb mixture in a fluted 10-inch tart pan and using the back of a measuring cup, line sides and bottom. Bake for 5-7 minutes. Remove from oven and set aside.


In a small bowl, whisk corn starch with 1 cup of milk until dissolved. In a large sauce pan, whisk malt powder in remaining milk until malt powder is dissolved. This will ensure there is minimal lumping. Turn heat to medium and add malted milk mixture, egg yolks, sugar, and vanilla. Whisk continuously and very quickly until the mixture boils and thickens, which should take approximately 6-8 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in chocolate and whisk thoroughly. Allow to cool for a few minutes.


Pour custard into cookie base. Use an offset knife to smooth.


Let tart sit at room temperature until cool. Garnish with your favorite chocolate malt balls then place in refrigerator to chill for at least 4 hours, or overnight for best results.

Keep refrigerated. 

Hi there. Can we talk about a serious topic for a moment?

Garage Sales.

As I mentioned several posts back, I'm an avid garage saler. I have been since the age of nine. However lately, I have been coming across more and more of them where I ask myself why I even bothered to stop or go out at all. I really enjoy them and would be sad if it becomes a thing of the past because people don't get the fundamentals of having a garage sale.

Several years ago, I compiled a few of my garage sales pet peeves. It was done more for a laugh, but now I'm wondering if it was research in disguise for a new book.

So, I thought I would share. Feel free to comment below some of yours.

Please have a good look over the stuff you are planning to sell. If it's dusty, dirty or filthy, take a cloth to it and clean it up. Make me want to buy it.

Please don't sell anything that is broken, chipped, torn, or completely out of date. Nobody wants your duffel bag with the broken zipper, the shirt with the ripped sleeve that "can be fixed", or that 1980s Miami Vice-ish hotel print of a seascape with dusty rose matting and shiny, gold frame. Please put it out with the trash or take it to the dump.


Don't be ridiculous with your pricing. It is a garage sale, not an antiques auction.

Please have your stuff out on display. Don't make me dig through boxes. I don't know how long that stuff has been in there and I don't want to find that spiders have taken up residence, or God forbid, a small, furry creature with 8 babies.  

Please don't follow me around and comment on every item I pick up to have a look at, telling me how great it is. Also, passing on your pit-stained sweater as 'like new' or the Christmas dish with several noticeable fork scratches on it as 'never been used' is insulting my intelligence. I know the difference.

If I give you a dollar for something that you paid fifty dollars for over three years ago, I really don't want to hear about it. If you can "get more money for it on eBay", then by all means, go for it. I just don't understand why then you are selling it at a garage sale in the first place.

Don't expect to get more than a quarter for the following items: VHS or cassette tapes, mugs, glasses, especially if it's an incomplete set, paperback books with a published date before 1992, kitchen utensils, Matchbox cars, or half burned candles. In fact, the last one, just toss it out. 

Unless you are picking up a piece of furniture or large item, please don't block the driveway. It's disrespectful. I feel bad if I have to trudge on someone's lawn just because you're too inconsiderate to park a block away.

I'm sure this is a debatable issue, but it needs to be said. Please don't mumble under your breath or complain if I hand you a twenty dollar bill. Unfortunately, ATMs don't give out rolls of quarters at 8am on a Saturday morning. Be prepared.

If you have a dog, please keep them inside or tied up where they can't get to the garage salers. I love dogs as much as the next person, but not everyone does and some people are quite terrified of them. There is also nothing more inappropriate than having one's crotch sniffed while having a look at what you're selling.

Please don't smoke. If you need to have a fix, go around back, in the house, or throw a couple patches on your arm. Your junk is not worth my health. 

And finally, if you choose to sign post your garage sale around town, kindly take them after the sale. Not 6 weeks from the date. 

Anyway, onto the good stuff. 

Like these brownies. Worth more than their weight in gold. 

And definitely more than that 1980s geometric rug you have priced at $125. 

TIGER BROWNIES

Shortbread

1 cup butter, unsalted and at room temperature
½ cups sugar
¾ teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 cups flour

Chocolate Chip Cookies

2¼ cups all-purpose flour 

This will be a super quick post. I promise.

I just had to share this smoothie with you all. Notice how I didn't say, 'Y'all'. I'm from the North. I know my place. Unfortunately, I do know a few born-and-bred northerners who use that expression, thinking they're cute and witty, but it drives me bananas. Sorry folks, but it only sounds incredible when southerners say it.

As I had mentioned in a post a while back, I LOVE peaches. It's my favorite fruit by far. 

Well, this smoothie just upped the ante for me. It's not something I would normally blog about, but when a treat is this yummy, it should absolutely be shared. It really is like eating peach cobbler through a straw. Just better for you.

Even if you drink it all by yourself.

PEACH COBBLER SMOOTHIE - *Gluten & Dairy-free!* 
Recipe adapted and modified from The Food Network

2 cups original or vanilla almond milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
2 teaspoons honey or agave nectar
¼ teaspoon nutmeg

½ teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons ground flax seeds - I used Bob's Red Mill
4 teaspoons gluten-free rolled oats - I used Bob's Red Mill

2¼ cups fresh or frozen peach slices
8-10 ice cubes

Place ingredients in a blender and pulse for about a minute or so. Pour into glasses, garnish with fresh fruit and enjoy.

Yields: About 4 cups.

Well the Olympics are officially over.

I'm pretty bummed about it actually. It was one of the best summer Olympics I've seen in a while. It was also nice to relax a bit more than I usually do. 16 days was pretty sweet - and I didn't feel guilty at all either. I considered it my patriotic duty.

I thought I would recap the events in my own words. Yes, these are my opinions. I have many.

Cue newsroom music.

There is no denying that London 2012 Olympics went all out in ALL forms of the word. The Olympics in itself never cease to teach me something new, but one thing remains constant. 

Unity. 

Like Miss America and Gracie Lou Freebush, I, too, want world peace. Life is complicated enough, why can't we all just get along? Celebrate people. Celebrate life. That's what it's all about.

But the athletes? The events?

Michael Phelps is a machine. That man can swim. He was born to swim. A six foot wing span is ridiculous. He's like a human pterodactyl. He deserved every medal he's ever earned. Most Celebrated Olympian is putting it lightly. Well done, Mr. Phelps. Well done. Missy Franklin is well on her way to being the female version of Michael. Watch this space.

Five words. Korea. China. Badminton. Utterly DISGRACEFUL. I'm glad both were disqualified in the end. People pay A LOT of money for tickets and don't always get to choose the events they want to go to. To have to sit and watch a farce like that? I would have been steamed. NOT. COOL.

Canada vs USA women's soccer match? Canada should have won that game. Period. Proud American right here (insert thumbs), but fair is fair. They should have won. 

I'm not into muscular physiques by any means, but the men's swim teams should absolutely be made to come out of the locker rooms to the intro of Hot Chocolate's, 'You Sexy Thing'. You know, 'Buuuum....bum, bum, bum, bum, buuuuum'? You can almost see the condensation dripping off the foreheads of women everywhere.

I am so proud of the USA girls gymnastics team. They were definitely a force to be reckoned with, no doubt, but can someone please teach McKayla Maroney what sportsmanlike conduct is? I can completely appreciate how disappointing it must be to set the bar so high for yourself and not reach it, but keep your emotions in check. There is no reason to act like a Diva. It was embarrassing.

The road cycling was hilarious to watch. Nothing like several hundred shirtless, hairy spectators, donning a beer belly and a can of lager, screaming and toasting the faces of the cyclists as they pedaled by to get one in the spirit. Seriously, where were the barriers or guard rails to keep the lager louts at bay?

I am so proud that trampolinist Rosie MacLennan won Canada's only gold medal of the games. I'm also a bit put off that Christine Sinclair held the flag in the closing ceremonies. I know the Canadian women's soccer team is very celebrated in Canada, but Rosie did win Gold. It should have been her moment.

I teared up when Canadian Paula Findlay crossed the finish line last in Triathlon. She was apologizing the whole time. It broke my heart.

Jessica Ennis was an absolute ROCK STAR. Sheer Brilliance. Britain should be so proud of her. I know I am. On a side note, did you see that girl's abs?

The Chinese are incredible in so many events, but they are incredible divers. Just incredible. I could watch them all day.

The rowing teams make me feel so bad for complaining when I have to carry 6 bags of shopping into the house that is like 20 feet away. My heart dropped when the New Zealand women's rowing team were flying through the competition, then suddenly, caught a crab. It was the look on their faces that did me in. I can't imagine training that hard for weeks upon weeks, only to lose it that fast.

I think some judges needed to have their eyes checked when it came to the synchronized swimmers. Can we say biased? Yeah. I said it. In fact, I've always been iffy about events that are judged. This is like basing something on one person's opinion. It's dodgy. It just doesn't seem right.

Best Sportswear: Japan.
Best Culturally Dressed at the Closing Ceremony: Ukraine.
Best Dressed at the Closing Ceremony: USA.
Worst Dressed at the Closing Ceremony: Canada. 

In closing, it just goes to show how wonderful the human body is. You can push it to do extraordinary things.

Like making these cupcakes.

And then trying to restrain yourself from eating the lot.



BLACKCURRANT CUPCAKES                                     
 

A few weeks ago, I went to see a Naturopath. I haven't been feeling as good as I should be for quite sometime, even with all the exercise and fresh air I've been getting. I also don't sleep very well, so this was my excuse for why I'm not feeling super awesome. Sleep = Rejuvenation.

It's frustrating, because I've always been a pretty healthy and energetic person, but for some reason my body and mind have been fist fighting the past few years. And I had no idea why.

Until now.

What has two perfectly manicured thumbs and a full on dairy allergy?

This gal.

Nope, there is nothing wrong with yo eyes. You read this right. Full. On. Dairy. Allergy.

Milk, butter, cream, all cheeses; if it's got cow's milk in it, I'm to run for the hills like I'm on fire. Apparently, my body has been launching a full on war against it without my acknowledgement or consent, thus creating havoc on my system over the past few years. And here's me, blaming childbearing for all the changes my body has incurred. Oops.

When the Naturopath read me my test results, I would not have been more surprised or shocked if a unicorn wearing high heels and a set of pearls walked into the office and threw up rainbows in the shapes of hearts than I was at that moment.

When I flatly refused to accept it and told her the tests must be wrong, she asked me a series of questions that most dairy challenged folk would easily fail. When I couldn't deny the symptoms, I graciously raised the proverbial white flag and submitted to my fate. It was at that moment a single tear beaded down my cheek, like a bad 80s music video.

Oh, but I'm not done ladies and gentleman.

It turns out that I also have a small gluten intolerance to most grains, including the ancient, totally-good-for-you ones. Not as bad as the Mister, but I now have it. Apparently, 42% of the North American population have a gluten intolerance and just don't know it. I'm also apparently intolerant to cherries, (seriously?) grapes (what?), watermelon (You've GOT to be kidding me, right?), oranges, cucumbers,  onions, and garlic and brown rice and rice bran....this is ridiculous. If I can't have rice, what DO I eat? Great.

'Oh, sorry love, no cookies and milk for me, thank you. I'll just gnaw on some tree bark and coconut water.' Super fun.