Foodie Finds

Well, it's been a long time since I've posted. With my new career change I've decided to use this blog to document my favorite recipes with a healthy twist. Up first... Baked Ziti. I found this little recipe over at Skinny Taste, one of my favorite new blogs. Here's the basic recipe:

Low Fat Baked Ziti with Spinach (Grade: A)


1 lb ziti (I used whole wheat)
28 oz crushed tomatoes
1 tsp olive oil
4 cloves garlic,minced
1 package of fresh spinach
1 tsp oregano
2 tbsp chopped fresh basil
salt and fresh pepper to taste
8 oz skim ricotta
1/4 cup Parmesan
2 cups (8 oz) part skim mozzarella
Spray olive oil
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
2 slices of pancetta


Preheat oven to 375°.Spray a 9x13-inch baking pan with oil spray.

In a large pot of salted water, cook pasta according to instructions until al dente. Drain and return to pot.

Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan, add olive oil and sauté garlic. The original recipe calls for frozen spinach but I'm not a fan; I prefer to use fresh ingredients whenever I can. Either way, add the spinach to the saucepan and cook until wilted. Next, add the crushed tomatoes and red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat; simmer for 5-10 minutes.

In a separate pan, lightly brown the pancetta. Pour the pancetta into the simmering sauce. Continue simmering for another 5 minutes.

Add sauce to the pasta and combine the ziti. Add half of the mozzarella, Parmesan cheese and ricotta. Mix well then transfer to the baking pan.

Pour the pasta mixture into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Top with the remaining mozzarella.

Bake for 30 minutes, or until mozzarella is melted and the edges are lightly browned.

My take: This recipe turned out fantastic--especially in light of the disastrous brown rice risotto attempt that wasted 2 hours of my life last night. As stated previously, I like to use fresh veggies as opposed to frozen just because I prefer the taste. This recipe is easy peasy and the taste was fantastic-- good thing, too, because it makes enough for an army!

Count Your Blessings, Come as They May

My grandma (Ma B) hated funerals. Hated them so much she refused to go. "They are too damn depressing," I remember her saying. I tend to agree with her. When she passed away we had a small lakeside gathering with family only. I never really understood her deep dislike of funerals until I attended a few and realized that they bring up all sorts of painful memories not only for the person being remembered, but for those who have passed before. She lived to the old age of 87 and frequently complained that "everyone I know is dead." She had a lot of people to mourn during her lifetime so I suppose it was just her way of surviving the pain.

I thought about my Ma B a lot this weekend. One of Gene's good friends passed away over Thanksgiving. He was incredibly close to her family; he dated her sister in high school and they have remained good friends. Doolittle, as I will call her because of her profound love of animals, struggled with sobriety for a long time. Tragically, she lost her fight at the very young age of 29. Her family is completely devastated. It's hard enough to lose a loved one who lived a long and full life, it is unbearable to lose one who barely had a chance to make her mark on the world. But make a mark, Doolittle certainly did. She was loved by so many and will be missed every day. I remember visiting her and Noah (Doolittle's former boyfriend and Gene's best friend) in Durango and talking for hours about animals, her love of Durango, and her plans for the future. She never met a stranger.

Her service was an affirmation of her life. Friends and family stood up and told their favorite memory of Doolittle. She had friends from Canada, Arizona, Durango, Denver, etc. who all came together to pay tribute to a wonderful friend. Without a doubt, Gene's speech stole the show. He spoke elegantly of how Noah and Doolittle's friendship-turned-love was responsible for bringing most of the people in the room together. He spoke of her love for animals, her wonderful family, and the good times they shared in Durango. He also talked about grief. Gene's brother passed away in a car accident when Gene was in college. Through tears he promised her family that it would get easier; that the memories that bring so much pain will one day bring them comfort. It was a beautiful speech and there wasn't a dry eye in the room. His mom cried for Doolittle and the son she'd lost years ago. I think it was especially difficult for her because her son is buried in the same place where Doolittle's service was held.

The whole experience was heartbreaking but also inspiring. It inspired me to try and make the most out of every day; not that all days will be good days (hello, Mondays still exist) but I should try my hardest to make every day meaningful. It also inspired me to look out for the people in my life more. I think I'm often too nervous to ask people how they are doing, in the fears that it will make them uncomfortable. Or I assume that they will get better and I shouldn't meddle in another's business. Unfortunately, they don't always get better. Some people need to be meddled with to realize how important they are to you and their loved ones.

And, Ma B, I learned that funerals have their place. From Doolittle's programs:
To Every Thing There is a Season - Ecclesiastes 3. 1-8

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Big Move's a Comin'

Last night it dawned on me that I have approximately 17 days until I head back to Austin. I am not at all prepared. I have a bad habit, since my campaign days, to just wait until the last minute and then fill my car with as much crap as possible. I also tend to not stress out about moving much since I was a nomad for a good 9 months. Gene, on the other hand, does not share my same philosophy towards moving.

Mainly, I just can't believe how fast it's approaching and how quickly are lives are going to change. I have all sorts of worries about things that I can't control, like: What if he hates Austin? What if he can't find a job? But I know at the end of the day that this will be a great adventure and we all need more excitement in our lives. I guess I'm putting off planning the move part in order to avoid all the anxiety associated with it.

So, maybe today I will put on my big girl panties and clean out my car. This, according to Gene, is step one in the preparation for the big move. Then we can have a better idea of what we can keep and what we will throw out or sell on craigslist. Mind you, my car is about the size of a golf cart so we won't be taking much stuff with us. Mostly my clothes; that's all I brought to Colorado and pretty much all I'm taking back. I can't believe it's been a year and a half since I arrived back in Boulder. Crazy. I'm becoming one of those annoying people that says, "Can you believe it's already been a year? Seems like just yesterday.."

All in all I'm really excited about moving to Austin. I will start grad school and move back to my beloved condo. I'm really excited about going back to school for something I love and the opportunity to meet new people. And, I think I've mentioned this before, but I'm really excited about the football. Really excited. I will, of course, miss my friends back here, Robbie's family, and four distinct seasons. Austin really only has 2 (summer and fallintering (fall, winter, and spring all rolled in to a couple of short months).

Well, it's going to be an eventful couple of months! I'm looking forward to the new changes. I think.. :-)

Adventures in Cooking

My Dad is an excellent cook. Before reality set in and we had to start eating healthy (big fat "Boo" to that crap), my Dad would cook the most amazing New Orleans-inspired dishes that could rival the best restaurants in NOLA. From mussels with white wine sauce to shrimp etouffee to cheese soup, those wonderful years solidified my love for all things culinary. And butter. Mostly, all things butter. Sorry, I think I hallucinated. Where was I?

Ah yes, butter. Well, his Thanksgiving feast is legendary (remember the time he and my Uncle Tom dangled a frozen butterball from a basketball hoop to deep-fat fry it and in the process almost burnt said uncle's garage down? Anyone?). He's made 3 turduckens, complete with three different types of dressings. My favorite is still the oyster. Who would have thought? He's spent the last 20 or so years refining his Thanksgiving meal down to an art. He starts cooking at least a week before hand. Yep, that's right-- a week.

Well, this Thanksgiving will be slightly different. I am having my first holiday celebration with Gene's family and I'm pretty excited about it. I'm always looking for new holiday traditions and I'm gearing myself up for some new treats. One tradition that I MUST bring with me is the twice-baked potato. My affinity for this particular spud was started when my grandma prepared them every Thanksgiving and Christmas. In spite of all the magical food listed above that my Dad works his butt off to prepare, the crowning glory for me was always the potatoes. My grandma would make extra because she knew I'd eat at least 4 and wanted another plate to take home with me.

So, because I'm not with my family this Thanksgiving I am making my own twice-baked potatoes. I got the recipe from my mom a few days ago and had a small panic attack when I noticed bacon wasn't one of the listed ingredients. After a quick IM to my mom, she reassured me that she always adds bacon from the recipe following the basic one she sent me. Phew. I almost overreacted. Almost.

Tonight I will attempt to make enough twice-baked potatoes for 20 people. But there's only 10 coming to Thanksgiving. That's right. I want to maintain my own separate stash at home. They're that good. If anyone wants the recipe, here it is. Since my grandma passed away a few years ago we had to taste test quite a few different recipes and here is the best one we've found. Enjoy. Happy Eating!

Let the Torture Begin!

I'm not an athletic person. My finest moment of athleticism occurred when I was 13 years old and I set a new record for the backstroke at the pool where I swam. I received a paper plate award for this monumental achievement that still hangs in my room at home. I have avoided exercising at all costs for my last 25 years. I have ignored the snarky comments from doctors, friends, and family who told me that there will come a time when I need to start working out. Well, my friends that time has come. GROAN.

After definitively ruling out the dryer as the reason that none of my pants fit any more, I realized that my expanding waistline must be the culprit. Finally, last week, after having to lay on the floor to zip up my reluctant jeans and seeing Gene's snarky face I realized that something must be done. Note: Gene wasn't really snarky but when you're upside down fighting with pants that are probably 2 sizes too small, the whole world seems snarky. I made a pact with myself, the puppy as my witness, that I would start exercising TOMORROW.

Well, after a few days of making lame excuses, "Oh, I lost 1/2 a pound today. Guess I can start tomorrow" and "I feel a cold coming on, better not push it," I finally started a week late. Yesterday, I actually was sick but after spending a weekend laying on the couch I felt gross enough to get up and head to our apartment's clubhouse. I did a solid 20 minutes on the elliptical machine (shut up, I don't exercise, remember?) and thought I was going to pass out when it ended. Probably not the smartest decision but I did it. I finally broke my boycott on all things health/health related and got my ass to the gym.

I was pretty sure I would be paralyzed from my over-exertion yesterday but to my pleasant surprise I feel no pain. This means, all excuses are null and void and I will be heading to the gym after work. Yay?!

Note: In addition to being exercise-adverse, I'm also incredibly clumsy. Therefore, I'm sure my new adventures in exercising will at some point land me in the Emergency Room. Stay tuned.

Night on the Town and Reflections the Morning After

After re-reading the title for today's blog it sounds much more scandalous than it actually was. Sorry, folks. Last night, P, K and I met up for drinks at the Samba Room before heading over to a friend's party celebrating her recent passing of the CO bar. The Samba Room was fantastic, cheap mojitos, good mini-cuban sandwiches, all around deliciousness. I walked out of there (maybe stumbled a little) after 2 mojitos, yes, I'm still a light-weight, and one and a half mini-Cuban sandwiches for right around $20 including tip. Not bad at all. It was great to see P and A, law school friends who had the wedding of a lifetime back in September. Seriously, guys. Why can't you have one every year? And Miss K looked FABULOUS with her new short do and fantastic black dress. I wish I had taken pictures. Next time. Dammit.

Confession: I'm always a little (ok, very) hesitant to attend law school functions or events with a high ratio of law schoolers to non-law folks. It's always a strange and somewhat uncomfortable situation. Ever since I quit CU law after my first year of law school, still the best decision I've probably ever made, it's awkward to be around large amounts of my former classmates. It is, however, entertaining. Inevitably I will be introduced to a significant other, or a CU law student from more recent years, and I'm always amused at how people choose to define me. "Oh, uninterested person, this is Katie. She and I went to law school together until we didn't." Think that's my favorite so far. Most of the time it's not nearly that awkward, and I have gotten better at handling the situation.

Right after I dropped out, quit, moved along, made an alternate life choice, fled, whatever.. I felt it was really important people didn't assume I couldn't hack it at law school. For some reason or another the idea that people would assume I left because I failed out or was forced to move along really bothered me. I'm sure it is the over-achiever in me rearing its ugly head. Truth is I just HATED law school. But I didn't hate law school like one hates going to the doctor. Uncomfortable, but necessary to achieve future health and happiness. Okay, that metaphor was horrendous. The point being I realized that while I could survive law school, doing so would not get me any closer to doing something I actually enjoyed. A lot, if not most, people hate law school. And those who don't, I seriously debate your sanity. That's right, I'm looking at you Hersh. But they do it because they know that it will be worth it in the end. People really do love being lawyers, my mom is a prime example. However, I knew that once I got through the shitastic experience that is law school, that would mean I'd be a ....lawyer. Shit.

So, I bucked the system and quit. I had no idea what I wanted to do in my life but I sure as hell knew it wouldn't be law related. While this caused a lot of angst and hardship, thank goodness I bailed. I wouldn't be nearly as happy right now if I had stuck with it. I feel like a completely different person than the 1L I was, and I have no desire to change that.

Anyways, the point of this long tangent is that I've become more comfortable with my choices. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I've been accepted to my new graduate school program and I no longer answer the question, "So, what are you doing now?" With a bunch of awkward sighs and stammers. But, I think most of it has to do with age. I'm come to appreciate that hardships and veering off path is a natural part of life. And the people who have everything in their life planned down to the age at which they will marry, have kids, etc. are bound to be disappointed. There's a really funny magnet at the Tattered Cover that says, "Have you noticed 'What the Hell?!' is always the right decision?" Makes me laugh every time.

Blogger Nation

I've become quite addicted to a few blogs, not so much the political or opinion ones but the blogs that are about real people struggling with a variety of issues. I've always been fascinated with people's successes and struggles (guess that's why I'm going into social work, huh?) and I find it inspiring when people can articulately express what they're feeling. A couple of really great ones are redneck mommy, dooce, and from this point forward. All these women struggle with complicated issues, from depression to the loss of a child. I especially admire these bloggers for being so open and honest about all they are experiencing. I'm especially addicted to dooce.com right now because it chronicles, among other things, a woman's struggle with depression. She's very honest and open about her struggles which is refreshing due to the stigma attached with any sort of mental illness. Depression is a very misunderstood disease due to a variety of factors, like over-diagnosis, over simplification of the symptoms (why can't you just feel better?), and the general feeling by those afflicted with it and those not that if you have never experienced depression you cannot ever really understand. All in all she does a great job talking about her struggles with a healthy dose of humor. If you're looking for something fun and meaningful to read I highly recommend it.