Tag Archives: food

Instacart App Just Blew My Mind

My dear husband lives with a shrew. (I’ll not mention any names for politeness sake) Said shrew complained about her husband not getting home from the gym in time to get to the grocery store before dinner. (In the shrew’s defense, she’s been in bed for the last two days (sick don’t ya know) and awoke to a home that looked as if, well…as if she’d been in bed for two days instead of running the ship)

Anyway, the husband in this story (are you still paying attention?) pulled up something quite miraculous.

Duh duh duh….INSTACART!

The next thing the shrew knew Instacart was connected to the Whole Foods just down the way and items she knows and loves where being added to the shopping cart. Organic Fuji Apples, 6 please. Ground Allegro Breakfast Blend Coffee, mmmm yes. A fresh piece of salmon from the fish counter, why the heck not?

Two hours later a super nice woman carried the bags of groceries into the kitchen and like a fairy godmother, disappeared into the night. The bags by the way, are all reusable.

And then, to put some icing on the cake, we got an email later in the evening telling us that the dates we ordered had been out of stock (credit) and the broccoli had weighed just under 2 lbs (credit). So not only did we not have to ever leave the house, but the service rocked.

*it should be noted that said husband is telling me that grocery delivery services have existed for ages and i’m no better than a country bumpkin (uh oh, I think I hear that shrew back again)

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Chew, Slup, Glurp – Magic In My Mouth

Oh my dear goodness holy heaven of sweet little mercy.

My husband went downtown for drinks tonight and came home with a Mint Chocolate Cupcake from Big Man Bakes.

Here are a few things you need to know about me to really understand the magnitude of this blog…

1. I hate cake. Ergo I hate cupcakes.  The last time I remember eating cake was…my first birthday?  I didn’t even have cake at my own wedding.

2. I’m watching what I eat and just made my husband take every bit of chocolate in our house to work.  EVERY bit.  His briefcase smells like Ghiradelli’s in Fisherman’s Wharf.

3. The bag said -BIG MAN BAKES-  I don’t know about you, but to me that says some kind of bachelorette party pastry, not pure deliciousness bliss.  bigman

It was me and Big Man Bakes.  Big Man Bakes and me.  What was a girl to do?

I took a little nibble.  And then I put it down because I hate cup…Huh?  What?  Hate cupcakes?  This thing was the most.  The best.  The greatest thing.  Oh no.  It was all gone.  What happened?  Where did it go?

Big Man Bakes – and oh, does he.

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Best Play Kitchen 2013

3,337 hours of research later and I just purchased my very own play kitchen.  Whoo hoo!

The criteria was tough:

  • no pink
  • no batteries
  • no plastic or plywood or particle board or stuff that feels like cardboard (our current kitchen is made out of an old cardboard box, so obviously we wanted an upgrade)
  • tall (my children are giants)
  • and large enough that two children can play at the same time without fighting

This took out most of the popular KidKraft choices as well as Melissa & Doug, Hape, and Plan Toys.  Unfortunately, it took me about a month of researching to figure that out.  What it left us with was Camden Rose, Guidecraft, Pottery Barn, and Land of Nod.  I did search upon upon search – ‘Tall Toddler Play Kitchen,’ ‘Play kitchen for tall kids,’ Best play kitchen ever,’ and ‘Best Bestest BEST kids kitchen.’  The results were daunting.  Who are all these mothers who have free time to make their own DIY kitchen?  Kitchen’s that look better than anything I could even imagine as well!  Damn overachiever mothers.  <mumble grumble mumble>

Guidecraft-Dramatic-Play-Café-Play-KitchenFinally (and mostly because I am just so sick of it I can’t even breath) I purchased the  Guidecraft Dramatic Play Cafe Kitchen.  It’s tall.  It’s made out of wood.  It’s an island with four different sides (no fighting between kids for room).  And the reviews were all 5 stars wherever I looked.  My only wish was that there was a separate refrigerator, but as my husband pointed out…A) I can always buy a fridge later on and B) I might be glad I don’t have one more darn toy in the house come a month from now when there are fake cupcakes and wooden pizzas all over the place.

Best of all, I can move it around the house because it’s one solid piece.  (If you know me then you know I tend to rearrange my house about once a month.)

Yay!  The never-ending search for the best play kitchen of 2013 has ended.  Hallelujah!  (and I mean that sincerely)

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The Day I Built A Bomb Shelter

The day I built a bomb shelter went a little something like this…

  • Watch WWZ in the theater   
  • Drive home from the theater in a daze of paralyzed fear – holy crap, I’m totally going to die when zombies attack Los Angeles   
  • Sell my home in Los Angeles to buy a plot of undeveloped land in the wilds of Novia Scotia   
  • Find a teacher (craigslist) who will teach my family how to fight zombies with handmade bayonets and magazines wrapped around our forearms   ✓
  • Order survival food that lasts 100 years or our money back   
  • Hire a bunch of eco-terrorists to build a first defense blockage around our bomb shelter (I lied and said we were worried about loggers)   
  • Convince my family to come live with me in a bomb shelter in Novia Scotia so we don’t get eaten by zombies   ✓  ✓  ✓  ✓   ✓  (but all very reluctantly)
  • Write this blog in the dark. In my bomb shelter. In freezing Novia Scotia. Where I’m so bored I want to bite someone    

WWZ – Trailer

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The Great Big Halloween Candy Exchange

My house is littered with raisin boxes and crayons and it’s all my fault.

For the first time in a decade I went trick or treating.  Needless to say, a certain ladybug I know came home with quite the stash.  While chocolate is one of my personal major food groups, as far as our two year-old is concerned, it’s pure contraband.  Thus mommy created, The Great Big Halloween Candy Exchange.

It started off with a conversation: trick or treating, getting candy, trading the candy in for cool stuff, blah-blah-blah

Step Two was a trip to Target: here Gwendolyn the Great* picked out two bags of stuff from the $1 bins.  All things GG thought were awesome with no interference from mommy.  She was dying to get at it except mommy told her she had to wait unti after trick or treating.  Once she got the contraband, mommy would do the exchange – 1 fun toy/snack for 1 piece of candy.  (*names have been changed to protect the innocent)

Step Three: Trick or Treating.  The highlight of this was GG holding both my and my husband’s hand and shouting, “WE ARE A FAMILY!”  We tried not to wince since baby was home asleep and quite obviously missing from our after-dark adventure.  At least we had Kiki the Wonder Dog with us who was also not-so-coincidentally dressed up as a ladybug.  Sam dressed as himself by the way, and I was a witch.  Although when GG saw me she shouted, “Bruja!” and burst out in gleeful giggles.  Somehow in Spanish my costume sounded more like an actual description then a costume choice.

And then came the final step, The Trade: GG dumped her candy onto the living room floor and with closed eyes, reached time and time again into the Target bag for her trades.  Apple sauce, a rubik’s cube, coloring books, Hello Kitty stickers, a slinky, glow in the dark snowmen, snoopy markers…the list of stuff is endless.

So I got through another Halloween without a jacked-up sugar monster, but in exchange I got $1 loot sandblasted throughout my house.  Eh.  I’ll take the $1 crap anytime.

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Campanile Closes

It is rare these days for me to get a minute to myself, but when I do I usually spend that minute unloading the dishwasher or lamenting my skinny jeans for being well, so darn skinny.  To catch you up however, Sam and I did get to attend the closing of Campanile after 23 years of stellar business.  Strangely, Campanile has been a landmark in my personal life as well.  Every serious boyfriend I ever had while living in Los Angeles has taken me to Campanile for our first date.  It became something of a “sign” to me – dinner at Campanile and date #4,363 was probably going to last a bit longer than date #4,362.  When Sam took me there for grilled cheese night almost 7 1/2 years ago, I knew he was a keeper.  I didn’t know he would be THE keeper, but I knew we were headed someplace special.

Campanile is something of a landmark in L.A.  Originally built by Charlie Chaplin in 1929, but was lost before he could use it in his acrimonious divorce to Lita Frey.  The inside echoes it’s interesting past with arches and towers and neat little touches that scream yesteryear.

In the week before Campanile closed, Sam and I got there twice; once for grilled cheese night, once for dinner on our 3rd anniversary.  The food both times was as always, delicious.  The wait staff, superbly attentive.  The ambiance everything quintessentially Campanile.  Sam and I said goodbye to Campanile and I personally, said goodbye to ever dating again.  (I mean, where would they take me now that my “spot” is closed?)

Bye Campanile.  I will always remember you (and your wine cellar) with love.

 

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Weight-Loss Plateau, Insanity Style

Dear Shaun T,

While I have loved (not true) your Insanity workout, I find myself plateauing.  I’m in week 7 now and I’m stuck at 144 pounds with 19 left to lose.  It’s been five months since baby came and I’m ready to be back in my jeans.  My husband says I need to cut chocolate out of my diet – hard to do when it’s the main source of keeping myself awake.  (you have no idea how long a day can be until yours starts at 3am!)

So today, in an effort to hurry along my weight loss, I am starting a food journal to record just what unhealthy foods I’m sneaking in.  My hope is that the last 19 pounds will melt away with this MAJOR effort on my part and I’ll be back down to 125 in no time.  Today so far read as: 1 cup coffee, 4 bites of oatmeal (it was all I could squeeze in before Baby started to cry)…

56 pounds gone, 19 to go.  Come on Shaun T, this Insanity thing has got to work!  I’m not killing myself for nothing.

Yours truly,  Hot Pants

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