Sinfully Delicious

"A bagel is a doughnut with the sin removed." --George Rosenbaum

For those of you who are unaware of the crazy endeavor I have taken on, I am learning to love cooking. I used to be a "rip the serrated cardboard, take out the frozen dish, stab a few fork-shaped holes in it, and zap it in the microwave" kind of gal. And whenever I lived with an Hotel Restaurant Administration major that also loved to cook, my cooking interests declined because nothing seemed up to snuff compared to his made-up dishes. I remember cooking for thirteen straight hours with him for Thanksgiving and he did not follow a single recipe to the T, and it turned out to be so delicious I begged for more.

Once that amazing six-month period ended, and time has fast forwarded a little, here I am now. I've learned it's okay to try new dishes, and experiment with different tastes - that's what cooking is all about. We're supposed to go out on a limb and see if we like what we made. If we don't, just throw the recipe out or try something different next time. If so, keep it.

I also discovered bruschetta and french bread, which is now contributing to the gluttony deadly sin. Tonight, I was craving pizza, but I wasn't in the mood to wait 30 minutes and pay $15 for something that I could only eat maybe three pieces of and then have to refrigerate everything else. This is what I did (sorry for the awful picture quality, blame my phone):
1. Cut a strip of french bread off baguette, no more than 1 inch thick. The secret is that you don't want it so thick that the bread doesn't crisp, but so thin that the toppings don't melt.

2. Lightly spread with Olive Oil. Since I don't have a food brush, I just used a knife. It doesn't have to be perfect, just enough to spread over both sides, without drenching it.

3. Place 1 slice of provolone cheese directly on bread. Sprinkle with Italian seasonings. Then place spinach leaves (or whatever green you want) on top. Lightly cover with marinara/pizza sauce/whatever red based sauce you have. I had roasted garlic and herbs red sauce from Prego, but I'm sure anything would work. Then sprinkle more Italian seasonings.

4. Place 1 slice of cheese on top. Then add pepperonis - this is what I had on hand, but you don't have to use it.

5. Place on cookie sheet/nonstick pan for about 10 minutes at 350 degrees. With about 3-4 minutes left, if desired, sprinkle mozzarella cheese on top. This way the shredded cheese does not burn/brown/get gross.

Voila!

I was really tempted to make another one, but the deadly sin would be kicking in again. There is something about being able to make just as much as you eat so you don't have left overs or feel like you're wasting food.

I wonder if there was pizza in Jesus' time. I could very easily imagine them breaking garlic bread, eating a slice of pizza and sipping on a glass of wine. And now I suddenly see Jesus being very similar to the Italian heritage - pot belly, accent and all.

My point is, cooking is a learning process, and it takes a lot of dedication to learn how to properly and successfully cook something; kind of like Christianity. There is no Christianity-microwave that we can get in that will zap us with loads of faith, love, and discipline. We have to constantly work at it, and realize that it is a learning process. When we fall down, He's going to be right there to pick us back up again - no matter what.
"Welcome to the Church of the Holy Cabbage. Lettuce pray." ~Author Unknown

Much love,
klc

Underwater jibberish

The end of a matter is better than its beginning,
and patience is better than pride.
--Ecclesiastes 7:8

I just realized that I have hit the 46th post mark. As much as I want to sheepishly say, "how in the world am I able to say that much?", my conscious can believe it. And now that I think about the fact that there are only three more posts away from hitting the big 5-0, I'm going to have to come up with something pretty darn amazing. Oh, and I'm sorry if that text is a little unreadable; I got a little carried away with the pastels.

Last night, I cooked for six girls, including myself. In honor of the beginning of Autumn, I made homemade lasagna, which I wish I would have taken a picture of because it was deliciously gorgeous, and homemade, from scratch, pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese icing, crowned with a candy-corn design. I also wish I would have taken a picture when they were in their "pretty stage", but apparently the icing I made likes to melt really easily, and now there is a cream/orange/yellow concoction of a mixture on top of the cupcakes. Good news is that they are still yummy and I will enjoy them regardless. This is what I was shooting for whenever I made them:During the l-o-n-g process of making these delectable little darlings, I was trying to just make half a recipe's worth because the original one yielded 32. I did not want to contribute or be blamed for my friend's potential obesity issues. So here I am following the recipe to a T, when I started to be come quite impatient. Long story short, I ended up accidentally pouring the entire 15 oz. can of pumpkin into the mixture instead of half of the can. Oops. I baked them anyway since I was about halfway into the 30 minute baking process whenever I realized this. Next thing I knew, there was soggy, dark pumpkin-y flavored mush inside 12 cupcake liners. I really wasn't in the mood to go back to Walmart for the third time (the second trip was for the first pumpkin can), but then I found Ecclesiastes 7:8. Patience is definitely better than pride, and the end result of the most amazingly delicious goodness I called my own was definitely worth it in the end. The same situation was for my lasagna recipe. The recipe requires that the red sauce concoction simmer for at least 45 minutes, which seemed like forever. But, I remembered that once the last sprinkle of cheese was placed on top and thirty minutes at 375 degrees was completed, that my apartment would smell like home again.

Today was a reprise of my lesson patience. I arrived to the clinic two hours before my therapy session started so I would have plenty of time to look over the articulation test I was going to administer to my client. This effort resulted in the realization that the test I needed was checked out, and the backups owned by two separate professors were also checked out. Thankfully, there was a first edition that sufficed, but it was still a frustrating process trying to decipher my supervisor's contracting directions. I really think she does not mean to do this ... at least I hope not. First, she told me that the artic test that I essentially used would work, then she said I needed to do another test. Okie dokie. I can do this. I can administer a test I have never heard of and never seen in my life until now thirty minutes before therapy starts. Well, I couldn't find that test either, so I clicked-and-clacked my way back to her office (heels are so noisy on laminate floors) and told her that I couldn't find it. She followed me into the testing materials room and while we were walking down the hollow floor, she told me that she wanted me to administer the first edition artic test, and that the 2nd one was only there to interpret the first test. Bah humbug!

Once my client came, I started administering the test, knowing ahead of time that it would be quite difficult to understand and transcribe him. This poor little kid has a repaired cleft palate (aka hole in roof of mouth), and therefore his speech is very hard to understand. The best way I can describe it is trying to talk with your throat, or the sound you make when you're coughing up phlegm. Gross. I'm not exactly sure how she wants me to grade this thing, because it's going to be an interesting interpretation of the sounds he made.

Oh, and another little story. I'm just full of them today! :)

Because Thursday is the start of the annual OSHA (Oklahoma Speech Path Association) conference, I needed to cancel my therapy session for Thursday. I accidentally forgot to put the client's parent's number in my phone and ended up going home to call them. I couldn't tell who answered, so I started off with my general greeting and told them who I was and who I was calling for. I couldn't tell who I was talking to, but all I know is that they had their mouth as close to the microphone of their cell phone as possible. Not only that, but the other participant in this conversation either stutters or doesn't speak clearly over the phone or in person. I feel bad for those people who have to constantly hear "huh?" coming from the other side of the telephone conversation. Again, hello patience. Their voice reminded me of whenever we try to talk to people underwater. It's entertaining, but quite difficult to understand.

Lessons learned:
double check your shopping list,
buy an extra can of pumpkin,
and have patience with supervisors and clients.

Good part of today: I received a letter from a lifelong friend today, and I finally had an excuse to use the new stationary I bought! :)

Point of this post, Kelsea?

Be patient. God was patient with us since the beginning. Whenever we were little bitty peas in a pod or burritos (I get this from when babies are swaddled in blankets so tight that all you can see is their face), God was patient with us. Thank the Lord (literally) that He is patient. I would have been through with this world a few thousand years ago.

Patience is a virtue, never let it go. Be patient to one another, we all make mistakes. Patience is always better than pride.

Much love,
klc

1st Corinthians 15:58

"Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."

God has to have humor in my regard. Not only did He convince me that a milk chocolate brown snuggie was necessary to live in this bipolar icebox/furnace I call my apartment, but... well. Here's the story...

For the past seven weeks, I have been working on an annotated bibliography notebook. Basically, I researched eleven subjects and wrote eighty critiques. And the Lord said, "that is enough, my child." :) Anyways, my professor draaaags out the last tidbit of our unit today, stands up, and writes on the board giving us instructions for our take home final: one page, double spaced, reference at the top, critique over "worthy" journal article. BAAAH. For those of you who know me, you'll appreciate this next part. I wanted to throw my laptop at her and then politely ask for the hours I invested study over this last weekend. As much as I love the idea of not taking another one of her tests that I probably would have failed (said in a satire tone), I wish she would have given us more than a two day warning. I can only hope that my class tomorrow does not pull the same wool off my eyes, because my laundry is not done, I have food that has been planned to be eaten over these next three days, and I have not finished the movie, "Funny Face" with Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire.

I chose the picture above for an array of reasons.
1. I love reading outside next to a tree with the wind gently blowing. The NSU campus has many trees for this lovely endeavor.
2. Barefoot. And, for those of you who don't believe, college turns you into a hippie. Hence, the flip flops. I am addicted to flip flops as much as the next person, and I would much rather slip into a pair of those then taking the time to "tie a pair of ten-eez".
3. She has taken a lot of time out of her day to read and finish that book. She's determined, anxious to finish and see how the end turns out. When she finally finishes it, there's a since of accomplishment.

That's exactly how I feel right now. I feel like I'm on the last page of the last chapter of a really good book (currently for me, it's Pride & Prejudice), and I am anxious to experience the results. In a way, it reminds me of cooking. A few days ago, I made the most delicious homemade artichoke spinach dip and fried bowtie pasta used for dipping. It was an awful experience trying to wait for this wonderfulness. I could smell the bubbly goodness outside of my apartment. Maybe this is how God views us our lives. In a way, He can't wait to see the finished product, but He is so excited to see the fun "middle". He wants to see us succeed andget to taste the "goodness" that comes from working hard. That's why I really like 1st Corinthians 15:58. It's a given that life is going to stink... okay, flat out suck, sometimes. We know that life is going to be hard, we're going to want to give up. But, the great thing about God is that He will always bless us in return when the effort we put forth in our lives is not in vain.

How awesome-possum is that?
I'm pretty sure I can be patient
and wait three more days
until my two weeks of freedom. :)

Lord, thank you for showing me this verse today; I really needed a laugh and some encouragement. Thank you for helping me accomplish my goal and kick booty on this "final". I love you, Lord, with all of my heart, soul, and mind.


much love,
klc