Do Badgers Eat Olives?

Happy Friday!!!!

I am sitting here, staring at a blank screen, with nothing to write about. You see, yesterday, the PMS monster decided to let her full-on succubus beast rage within me so that all I want to do is consume massive quantities of carbohydrates, watch “the Notebook” on repeat, and then follow it up with some movie where the woman gets to kick.ass. I am thinking “Buffy”.

I have zero desire to work out. I have zero motivation to change out of my pajamas. I don’t have any auditions today, I don’t work today, my jammies seem like the best place to be. Somewhere, in this heaping pile of mess that I am, is the running rapscallion that needs to emerge to kick the shite out of the PMS monster. In case you were wondering, rapscallion vs. monster; rapscallion wins every time. Like the badger, rapscallion doesn’t give a sh!t.

When you’re PMSing, or for dudes, when your team loses (you men are such babies about that) or for you gay men, when you find out Madonna’s tour is coming no where near you, do you have to summon every bit of energy you have, just to work out? Ok, this one is a moot point for gay men. My gbf assures me that the gym is the best place to meet guys. This WOULD be the case for straight women, but guys who hit on girls at the gym, are mostly creepsters.

I think a lot of women struggle with motivation to exercise around the time their bitchy aunt flo is on the plane to her house. Thankfully, I have an entire community of people to keep me in check. We all post pictures of ourselves working out, tagging it #PROOF on twitter and instagram, because, if you’re FitFluential, you have to walk the walk, and not just blog the blog.

I’m also going to need 3 gallons of coffee and 4 Motrin to get my ass to the sweatyard today.

I did, however, make a small batch of the perfect pms food last night, to soothe the savage beast. I made “olivetas” or “deep fried pizza olives”. Salty. Tiny. Fried. Cheesy. Awesome.

What??? You’ve never had a deep fried, breaded olive? This makes my heart very sad. Single tear sad. Newt Gingrich desperation sad.

These olives are stuffed with melty, melty cheese, rolled in a whole wheat flour, corn meal, and panko mixture, deep fried, and dipped in marinara sauce. Drooling yet? I thought so.

Pizza Olives “Olivetas”

by Cat Tan

Prep Time: 30 minutes

Ingredients (20 olivetas)

  • 1/3 cup whole wheat flour
  • 1/3 cup panko bread crumbs
  • 1/3 cup fine cornmeal
  • 1/8 tsp garlic powder
  • 1/4 tsp dried oregano
  • 20 large, pitted, green olives
  • 3 oz pepper jack, firm mozzarella, or provolone cheese, cut into strips.
  • one egg
  • canola oil

for dip

  • 1 cup marinara sauce

Instructions

cut strips of cheese into pieces that will fit into the hole in the olive

stuff the olives with the cheese

combine the dry ingredients in a shallow dish

beat the egg in a small bowl

heat 3 cups or more of oil in a small skillet until they’re approximately 1″ of oil in the skillet, heat to 375F

take the stuffed olive, dip into egg wash and then roll into bread crumb mixture

drop into oil and fry for approximately 30 seconds

serve with marinara for dipping

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Do you like olives?

Do you crave salty or sweet when you’re hormonal? I go both ways. 

5 comments on “Do Badgers Eat Olives?

  1. Oh my goodness, you’re hilarious. I love the honey bagder comparison. I love the Madonna tour comparison. And those olives look INCREDIBLE. I’m a big olive fan … I just don’t quite understand how people can hate them!

    I’m definitely all about the salt when I’m hormonal. But sometimes I get the urge to eat an entire cheesecake … very rarely, though. Salt usually wins.

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