Adult Films at Denny’s

Before yesterday, I wasn’t certain what state the “Wizards” played in, nor did I have a clue who Jason Collins was.

Obviously, that changed. Jason Collins became the first NBA player to come out. There were a gajillion tweets about how “the NBA just got a whole lot gayer”. Here’s the thing, I’m pretty sure Jason was gay before he came out, so the NBA didn’t get gayer, it maybe just got a tiny bit more honest, which is good for everyone.

Beyond that, I think we can all agree that wrestling is the most homo-erotic of all the sports. ever. Basketball just has an openly gay guy on the court. And although I’m a huge gay rights advocate, and intolerance intolerator (I just coined that term, go forth and use.) I honestly don’t think it’s going to make me more interested in basketball one iota. I tried to watch Jason Collins game highlights on YouTube, and I was bored stiff in under 2 minutes.

Before yesterday, I thought a “triple double” was a meal you bought at Denny’s or maybe some sort of porn scene setup. Maybe a porn scene at a Denny’s? They are open late, right?

Either way, congratulations to awesome athlete Jason Collins. (from what I could tell, again, I am NOT a basketball expert, in spite of my height) I really hope that now that you’ve come out, that there will be a bevvy of boys at the bar asking if you, being a wizard, would like to make your wand disappear. “wingardium leviosa!!”

In honor of sporting arenas everywhere, I give you…the perfect savory-sweet baked nachos.

photo 2 (16) photo 3 (15) photo 5 (9)This is just a PROCESS POST.

The way to perfect baked nachos is based on a few things: all-natural cooking spray (get thyself a mister!!) a VERY HOT oven, a cooling rack, and the proper time to season.

photo 4 (13)

Perfect Baked Tortilla Chips

first, get quality corn or flour tortillas, cut them into triangles. Preheat your oven to 425F, spray a cooling rack with coconut oil, place over a baking sheet, lay out the triangles over the cooling rack, spray them, flip them, spray them again. Sprinkle with salt on both sides, bake for approximately 5 minutes, or until they are lovely golden brown.  When they come out, sprinkle them with coconut sugar or some more salt, chipotle powder, chili powder, or cinnamon sugar, and top as you like.  Watch for tiny, thieving hands.

 

 

We Need T and A on the Runway

Having a good day, scamps? I am! Well, there was this thing where I realized I needed to increase my b-12 injections, so that’s lame. (read:was told to, ordered, tattooed with instructions, berated by professionals of the field) Stupid damaged duodenum.

BUT!! I learned a new fact that immediately made the filthy jokes burn into my brain in rapid succession.

The crack of a bull-whip is actually a tiny sonic boom. You of course know what this means for every rodeo rider and the great Indiana Jones…great pickup lines.

“you know, I can whip it out faster than the speed of sound.”

“not even the sound barrier is strong enough to hold my whip”

“wanna know what’s long, faster than the speed of sound, and fits in my pants?”

Apart from learning I now have to shoot vitamins in my ass once a week, yesterday was pretty stellar! I spent a leisurely morning at my son’s Lunar New Year pageant, made noodles for lunch to celebrate, and partied like it’s Mercedes Benz Fashion Week here in NYC. (ok, it is MBFW) Pretty boss, right?

Fashion week mostly makes me vom. It is the height of excess and deprivation. Don’t get me wrong, I love clothes. I love fashion. I don’t love 15 year old girls dressed to look like they’re thirty, forced to starve themselves so that they look as though they’re walking clothes hangers.

Everybody’s body is different. Some may be that thin naturally…most are not. My body is VERY different. I am high waisted with super long legs, but also a long torso. I am flat as a board and have a goose’s neck. But damnit, it’s mine. It’s not the traditional “ideal” body type, far from it, but I earned it. I am fortunate enough that apart from weird genetic skin dryness and rosy cheeks, I have pretty good skin, and super thick hair. I am also lucky that even though I hate the freckles that pebble my shoulders, the man loves them. I am NOT where I want to be. I want my boobs to be somewhere other than where they are, (like Maine) and I’d like the skin on my stomach to be smooth. I’d also like a size 8.5/38 foot. I really don’t see that happening unless you cut off my toes. (and then pointy shoes wouldn’t fit) Pretty sure those are essential. I also hate my nose with the fire of 1000 suns, but that is a story for another day. Mostly though, I’m ok with myself. I like my skin and bright eyes and healthy nails. I like that I’m not often sick (read *sick* not *uninjured*) I like that I know that even if I were to be stripped of all the physical aspects of me that I am ok with, I like knowing that I am smart, educated, and talented in other areas. (you can’t see me, but I’m waggling my eyebrows)

These models are being groomed to believe that subsisting off of air, cigarettes, water, and kale is what is normal. They’re being told that unless they disappear when turned sideways, they’re useless. They’re not expected to be intelligent, just pretty. They are purely decorative. What a waste.

I also don’t understand why the most emaciated of women are used to show clothing, when countless studies have shown that the subconscious mind of the male is unerringly drawn to women with fuller hips, rounder rear, and generous bosom. These things signal fertility, which of course, is a biological imperative to the continuation of our species.

It’s a damn mystery. Also? I can tell you from having been super thin, it makes you look older. No bueno.

But being HEALTHY looks damn good. It can also taste damn good. Like for instance the meal I made last night. Chicken Enchilada Pasta Bake. Can I just tell you I could’ve sat over the pan and eaten every last bite? It was THAT good. It was also really affordable, easily made vegetarian, and would freeze like a dream.

I use chobani plain in this recipe again, and before you think I’m simply kissing up, let me tell you I am not. I am really just enamored with using Greek yogurt in recipes, and Chobani is the one I buy. (It goes on sale a LOT at Target and is also available in giant tubs at Costco….thrift, people.) This recipe also uses frozen chopped spinach. If you’ve never incorporated it into your cooking before, you really should. I got a box of organic frozen chopped spinach for $1.50. Like.A.Boss.

Chicken Enchilada Pasta Bake

chicken enchilada pasta bake 3chicken enchilada pasta bake 5

Chicken Enchilada Pasta Bake

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 25 minutes

Cook Time: 30 minutes

Keywords: bake entree chicken cheese pasta garlic

Ingredients (serves 8)

  • 5 boneless skinless chicken thighs or the pulled meat from one whole, roasted, or rotisserie chicken, or 3/4-1lb ground chicken/turkey/beef
  • 1 box frozen, chopped spinach, thawed
  • 1, 14 oz box of whole wheat or rice pasta (or any pasta really, bite sized like elbows, penne, farfalle)
  • 1, 15 oz can of black beans, rinsed (for vegetarian dish, double this)
  • 1 cup green salsa (I use Mrs Renfro’s)
  • 1 scant cup or individual container of plain greek yogurt (I use chobani 2%)
  • 2 tbsp evoo
  • 2 tbsp cumin
  • 2 tbsp chopped garlic
  • 1 onion, chopped
  • 1 cup chicken stock
  • 1/2 tsp chipotle powder
  • 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
  • juice of half of a lime
  • tabasco to taste
  • 1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
  • salt and pepper
  • 5-8 oz shredded pepper jack or mozzarella cheese

Instructions

preheat oven to 350F

cook the pasta al dente in a pot of boiling salted water and set aside

heat oil in a skillet on medium high

cube chicken into bite sized pieces

stir spices in the oil with garlic and onion until fragrant

add in chicken and cook until cooked all the way through.

add remaining ingredients save for cheese and pasta, and stir well, adding the chobani last.

add pasta and toss

taste for seasoning (more tabasco? salt?)

pour into a 13″-9″ dish and top with cheese

bake for 30 minutes, if you’re going to freeze this…DO NOT BAKE

serve with more cilantro, greek yogurt, salsa, etc.

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Beer Cheese Me.

Yesterday, at the gym, the TVs were playing one show on a loop: “The Biggest Loser”. I’ll admit to having watched season 1-3, fascinated by the trainers (I still love them) and the courage it took for the contestants to stand in front of everyone and be weighed in their skivvies. Now, the show just gives me the skeeves.

America is a fat nation of fat shamers. In spite of the fact that a full 30% of its population is overweight or obese, the shrill of fat shaming has reached a fever pitch. This year, the show brings kids into it.

Somewhere in Hollywood, a producer said “I know what will help these kids battle obesity!!! PUBLIC HUMILIATION!!” More likely they had dollar signs in their eyes and evil in their black hearts. Perhaps they sold their soul, and simply couldn’t understand why this would be a bad idea.

When I was heavy, I didn’t wear shorts, let alone let someone film me vomiting from over-exertion. Hell, I’m only 10 stone now, and still do not want anyone to film me at the gym. It isn’t pretty. I think I make faces only the man should see. (British weight measurements sound better..I also measure my sugar by cubes and my awesomeness by how big my balls are)

I don’t think the answer to childhood obesity is to exploit children on national television. “Hey kids, you’ve clearly not been bullied enough! Let’s open you up to the scrutiny of millions!! I am SURE the kids at school will ONLY focus on the fact you were on TV, and definitely NOT why!!!” Moreover, I can understand wanting to pull your children out of dangerous habits and prevent permanent obesity, but what in the fresh hell would drive you to exploit your own kids like that? Money? Fame? Is it worth it? Probably not.

It also probably makes people think you’re a dick. Just saying.

Seriously. Kids are assholes. Not all of them, mind you, but trust me, some are just assholes.  I know this because I was tortured by said assholes. Tortured. I was tortured before twitter and facebook and horrible group boards. I was tortured before mass text messaging and google alert, and there were times I thought I’d not be able to go on. I simply cannot fathom how horrible bullying is now in the age of social media.

We cannot go on like this.

I don’t think anyone disagrees that the US needs to set a better course for our future. We’ve all but eliminated phys ed from our schools in favor of test prep. The food we serve in our cafeterias is often barely passable as food. Lower-income neighborhoods have easy access to fast food and convenience junk, but little else. Kids aren’t taught how to eat or why in our schools.

Tradition begets tradition, and in the US the tradition has become soaked in deep fryer oil in front of the television. I spent more than one evening in my youth, eating french fries while watching “Full House.” (insert daydreams about Uncle Jesse here) I am trying to do better by my children. I want them to appreciate movement. I want them to love the strength and energy the right foods gives them. I don’t want them tortured at school.

What do you think about weight-loss shows featuring kids?

Ok. Rant over.

Happier subject.

Cheese. Beer. together. Happiest marriage ever.

Even better? It doesn’t have to be absurdly unhealthy.

I grew up on the southern classic “pimento cheese”. It’s an amalgam of mayonnaise, cheddar cheese, butter, pimentos, and an asston of salt. Needless to say, it’s effing ridiculously delicious. I used to LOVE pimento cheese spread on bread, fried, and topped with potato chips after frying. Fried on cheese on butter on chips. What could be bad? Sure, one bite could give you a coronary, but you’d die happy.

Nowadays, that’s a once a year treat. That doesn’t mean I don’t crave it like Sarah Palin craves relevancy. I just don’t eat it. I find substitutes.

There is another hillbilly classic that not as many people know about, but is still absurdly yummy.

Beer Cheese Spread.

Typically made with an amber beer, cream cheese, full-fat cheddar, and mustard, it is decadent and heavenly. It’s also much easier to make less calorically dense. Using 2% plain chobani for the cream cheese, Guinness for the beer, and a reduced fat cheddar. I swear, you’re mixing it with beer, don’t freak, it still tastes fab.

It also makes a killer grilled cheese.

Beer Cheese Spread with Chobani

beer cheese spread

beer cheese spread 2

Beer Cheese Spread with Chobani

by Cat Bowen

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: (rest time) overnight

Keywords: appetizer breakfast condiment entree sandwich side snack vegetarian soy-free nut-free cheese

Ingredients (1 1/2 cups)

  • 8 oz reduced fat cheddar (hand shredded)
  • 4 oz flat guinness
  • 3 tbsp 2% plain chobani
  • 2 cloves roasted garlic
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp dry mustard
  • several generous dashes of Frank’s Red Hot
  • dash Worcestershire sauce
  • 1/4 tsp chipotle powder

Instructions

stir all ingredients together and refrigerate at least 8 hours

serve with crackers, as a grilled cheese, add to an omelet, eat on a cold sandwich with lettuce and tomato

hollow out a roma tomato and broil it inside (350F 15 minutes)

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Freak.

I was incredibly forgetful yesterday, and therefore have no What I Ate Wednesday for you. I will tell you that I had another tomato that was seriously kissed by Mother Nature to be so sweet. I am going to fall into a deep, red depression when they run out at the store, and we’re back to shoddy, off-season tomatoes.

It’s ok though, because we have other things to talk about.

October, as everyone knows via pink everything everywhere is national breast cancer awareness month. I fully support this cause, not just because I have watched friends lose their mothers to this disease, but also because, as a bra wearing owner of a set of boobs myself, I am acutely aware of the implications.

However, it is also National Bullying Prevention Month.

I was bullied. A lot. I was bullied by kids who were sweet to me at church and then ripped into me at school, I was bullied by boys who thought it was fun to pick on an easy target. I was bullied by the kids down the street, and sometimes even, by my own teachers.

I was an easy target. I was outspoken and different. I was heavy and had a heavy dose of ADHD. I still march to my own drummer. I listened to show tunes when other kids were obsessing over N’Sync and Mariah Carey. I quoted “Star Wars” and Shakespeare instead of “Happy Gilmore”. (Though I could have, but I was contrarian and refused to.) I was a vegetarian. In a very religious school, I self-educated about AIDS and the problems affecting the gay community. More than once, I was asked why I’d want to hang out with faggots, since they were clearly unclean and damned. I was pro-choice, pro-birth control, and pro-sex ed. I loved the choir teacher that other students hated, no matter how tenuous our relationship could be…(I had a tendency to talk in class…) Simply put, I was different. 

This is what the assholes who thought it easier to be mean than understanding claimed as the impetus for calling me “gargantuan” or “nightmare girl”. The girls were more subtle. Once, someone did write freak in the gym teacher’s attendance book beside my name, but for the most part, it was mostly how they chose to ignore me. The obvious, trying not to seem obvious chatter. The intentional snubs, the overly planned, feigned knee-jerk reactions to my presence.

The saddest part is that I am now friends with some of these people on FB, (no, I don’t know why either) and I can tell they have not changed. Sadder yet, is that the likelihood that their kids will be bullies as well, is seemingly very high.

Fortunately, there is a lot we can do. We, can choose to live by example and not show our children that it’s ok to be that way. We can educate them that being kind is what is important, and that a part of being kind is standing up for those who are being bullied. We can help by insisting that complaints of bullying in school are taken seriously. We can support legislation to help stop bullying. We can be the ones who speak up for those who are too afraid to speak for themselves.

We can love

We can accept, and not simply tolerate our differences.

We can celebrate what makes us all unique.

We can teach our children to celebrate what makes them who they are, and what makes others whom they are.

Today you are you, that’s truer than true, there’s no one alive who’s more youer than you.- Dr Seuss

Go here and find out how you can help end bullying.

Now, violence isn’t the answer to bullying, and you can’t just kick the bullies in the balls, so why don’t you make some instead? Healthy ones to insure you outlive the bullies.

Peanut and Apple Butter Protein Balls. ( I used this recipe for apple butter, you should too.)

 

peanut and apple butter protein balls

by Cat Tan

Prep Time: 5 minutes

Keywords: no bake appetizer breakfast side snack vegan vegetarian

Ingredients

  • 2 scoops vanilla protein powder
  • 1/3 cup apple butter
  • 1/3 cup peanut butter
  • 1 2/3 cup quick oats
  • 1/2 cup soy milk with 2 tbsp chia seeds, let set for 10 minutes
  • 1/2 tsp cinnamon

Instructions

combine all ingredients

chill for one hour

using a cookie scoop, scoop out individual portions and roll into balls with your hands

chill

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You Can’t Mime Your Way Out Of A Box

I am not a fan of “everybody gets a trophy”. I am a fan of celebrating small victories, but not the overly effusive parenting style that was very popular when I was growing up.

Let’s start this off with a story.

Once upon a time, there was a slightly full-figured theatre kid in the fifth grade. Every weekend, her parents dutifully dropped her off at acting class, and a few times a year, endured a school performance or recital. She had a few siblings who played baseball and softball, each requiring multiple practices per week, and many, many boring ass games of which she was forced to attend.

She may have been the middle child, and may have resented the hell out of this. After all, this was cutting severely into her movie watching time, and forcing her out of doors when it was really hot outside.

In a rather misguided attempt at perceived equality or misplaced and ill-achieved vengeance, she decided to sign up for soccer. It was different, required multiple practices a week, and had many games. The only problem was that she hated soccer even more than she hated going to her siblings’ boring ass baseball and softball games. Comparing it to watching paint dry would be too kind.

Needless to say, she didn’t try very hard. She barely attempted the sport. Mostly, she just stood on the field watching the ball go by. She made an excellent portly lawn jockey or freakishly tall garden gnome.

Somehow, this still garnered her a trophy. A rather showy gold number, depicting a girl, in action, kicking a soccer ball. This is doubly odd because A: I don’t think the girl ever kicked the ball all season in a game, and B: it was clear to anyone with vision that she really didn’t give a damn about soccer, and just wanted to spread out the attention of her mom.

The trophy she should have received is the “Most Awesome At Being the Overlooked Middle Child” trophy. In fact, she should have 20something years’ worth of these trophies, and they should come complete with invisibility cloak, just like being the middle child. She is in no way still affected by her position as middle child. She definitely didn’t write more than one paper on the subject in college, and definitely doesn’t bring it up to her parents at each available opportunity. She definitely doesn’t warn them that both Bill Gates AND Madonna are both middle children, and if they don’t start paying proper attention to her, that she may turn out less awesome and altruistic and more naked and blasphemous. Or maybe, just maybe, she’ll be altruistically naked. It would be a FREE show after all.

She may have learned little from her soccer experience. She may have absolutely not deserved a shiny trophy to put on her canary yellow and gold dresser.

Acting, on the other hand, she shone in that arena, but it was a lot of hard work, and your payoff? Flowers. Do you know what happens to flowers? They DIE. You work your ass off for weeks, pour your blood, sweat, and tears into a project, and the reward friggen dies.

It took her a few years to realize that the flowers weren’t the reward at all, the show itself was. Having a great show that people wanted to see, and the work in itself was the reward. It was hard work, but she loved it. Every damn minute. No one constantly praised her, or awarded her with shiny baubles, and it was still worth it. It was better because of how sweet it was knowing she secured the role, and played the hell out of it.

If you’re not good, if you’re not trying, you don’t get cast.

Just like in life, if you don’t try, and you don’t work your ass off, the rewards are slim. No CEO is going to give you a trophy because you “tried”. You’ll get the promotion if you book the client, you get the accolades if you perform. There is no “participation trophy” in real life. There are risks, there are rewards, there are disappointments, there are successes. You make them for yourself, no one else does.

This is why I was bummed out when I found out that a neighborhood near mine recently got themselves all in a tizzy over the trophy issue. As it turns out, the street mime team didn’t have enough money for trophies.  (I live in NYC, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard of one…they think outside the box here….see what I did there?) The parents were incensed. Their 10 year olds NEEDED trophies for pretending to make a flower for annoyed passersby. These are the same parents who lobbied the NYC dept of Education to allow 2 C’s on a report card to still warrant the Merit Roll. I absolutely shudder at what these kids are going to grow up to be like. I have the sinking feeling that they’re going to make my generation “the millennials”, look like the hardest working generation ever, when even the merit roll is just handed to them.

What is success worth if you never have to work for it? Would I think my weight loss were special if I just woke up one day to fitness? Hell no, it’d be like winning the lottery, not winning a war. Hollow and empty.

I am finding it hard to balance my need to shower praises on my kids with teaching them how much greater something is if you have to work to achieve it. So far, the best analogy I have given my kids is that bread from the grocery store is healthy and delicious, but it in no way compares to having a fresh from the oven, warm, homemade, whole wheat roll.

Do you have any tips to share on this front? I feel like I am at the precipice of turning into an overly effusive hippie.

Though hippies rarely eat ground beef. Worst segue ever? Hell no, I’ve done way worse.

Yesterday, I made Picadillo. There are several variations of this recipe, and I’ve made it several ways. It can be spicy, and more tomato-y, or more like a sweet and sour with spice dish. I prefer the latter.

 

Picadillo

by Cat Tan

Keywords: saute appetizer entree

Ingredients

  • 1 lb EXTRA LEAN ground beef or turkey
  • 1 medium onion
  • 1 large red bell pepper
  • 1/2 cup cilantro
  • 2 cloves garlic, chopped
  • 1 pint grape tomatoes
  • 1/2 cup chopped carrots
  • 1/2 cup raisins
  • 3/4 cup spanish olives with pimento
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 2 tsps cumin
  • 1 tsp chipotle powder
  • 1 tsp oregano
  • 1 tbsp brown sugar (or raw sugar)
  • 1 tbsp tomato paste
  • 1/3 cup apple cider vinegar

Instructions

heat the onions, garlic, beef, and carrots in a skillet on medium high until the beef is brown and veg are softer

add in all other ingredients, and simmer for 25 minutes

serve with brown rice.

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