Sunday, April 15, 2012

Just Your Typical Post about Getting Buried in Mulch, Not Making Gnudi and Other Adventures

I love everything about mulch: the smell, the look, the feel, the knowing that Spring is here. Laura had a truck bed full of it on Friday night, so we went with it.

Laura thought it would be fun if we buried the children in mulch. The kids thought this was the hilarious.

Fiona wanted to have a "photo session" and I never, ever turn her down for this request. I could spend the rest of my life taking photographs of this kid, this family, this life.
 Yet it's like pulling teeth to get her to smile for a photo. Usually, it's crazy, quirky, zany faces. I love all of her, nonetheless.

Saturday night, we went to a party, during which I drank an entire bottle of Boone's Farm. I'm not proud. That stuff is damn good. (PSA: Also, I had a designated driver.)
There was also dance class, beignets from Yum Mee's bakery, fort making for naps, and kite flying.

 In the dresser. Again.

On Sunday night, I decided that Gnudi should be on the menu. Gnudi, you ask? It's kind of like gnocchi, except with ricotta cheese and semolina flour. It sounds adorable and yummy. I had all the ingredients and started getting everything together when I actually read the recipe in its entirety. I got to this step and laughed out loud.
You have to mix the stuff, pipe it, roll it, and then refrigerate it for THREE TO FOUR DAYS! Really, Gnudi inventor? Really? No.

Instead, I made a lentil, chickpea curry stew, served over quinoa, and it only took an hour. I forgot to take a photo.

End of story.

Peace out.

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