Yes, donuts! The fresh kind, which are always infinitely better than your standard garbage masquerading as donutkind at Dunkin or Krispy Kreme.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve eaten my fair share of sugar bombs at both of those places (and suffered the resulting sugar high-acid reflux combo punch) it’s just that if I’m going to eat donuts these days, I’d like them to be as delicious as possible.

Now I wouldn’t be my procrastinating self if I didn’t wait A MONTH to post about eating donuts, but eh, it is what it is and I yam what I yam.

Coming soon: knitting cables, riding into the sunset, and saving the council one Paragon option at a time.

And in the category of things that are super cool about my new home, I woke up the other day to a bellydancing Groupon offer in my inbox. I thank my lucky stars that I moved back to a major metropolitan area that has the population and diversity to offer things like bellydancing classes at an actual establishment that exists only for dancing of the bellies.  No more the rec room back alley Billy Elliot instructor types, no more waiting for kids karate to get out of the local high school gym for yoga, an actual place (places! I looked!) where there is instruction for dancing in many forms.  If I sound a bit giddy, I’m not exactly sorry because heck, I am! Needless to say, I snatched up the offer and will be making time in my post-Christmas schedule to shake my hips like whoa.

Not that any of this in and of itself is necessarily important enough to warrant a lengthy blog post, but in the interests of working on #19 and making progress on the entire list I figure just putting it out there will help me make this a habit.  There are an amazing number of things in my life that are changing in baby steps, and not to be all What About Bob up ins but chopping things up into manageable bits of progress has helped me immensely.  So expect more little blurbs, I promise I’ll try to keep them brief!

(Oof, thirty-two. Am I really going to be thirty-two? It feels like I just cracked a quarter century a couple of months ago.)

My intention is to update the blog, in it’s newly expanded not-just-for-food-anymore capability, to track my progress and hopefully share stories and photographs (see #21)

So here it is, thirty-two things I’m going to do by the time I’m 32:

1. Learn conversational Spanish
2. Make something for the 2011 Child’s Play auction
3. Visit Vancouver
4. Visit Portland
5. Camp out for more than one night in a row
6. Learn to snowboard
7. Climb a mountain
8. Learn to scuba
9. Eat dinner at Canlis
10. Eat dinner at The Herbfarm
11. Take a bellydance/ballet class
12. Lose 40 pounds (and keep it off nitwit)
13. Finish writing a novel
14. Run a 5k
15. Finish the video games I own (RDR, ME/ME2, FF13)
16. Rescue a shelter animal
17. Eat offal
18. Get out of debt
19. Maintain blog regularly
20. Make a website that doesn’t look like minimalist WordPress poop
21. Learn to use that nifty 40D I dropped fat bank on
22. Go fishing with my Dad
23. High five my brother
24. Cook with my Mom
25. Participate in a snowball fight
26. Attend an ATL get together
27. Learn to knit cables and socks
28. Finish knitting that sweater
29. Join a CSA
30. Get posted at Foodgawker
31. Window herb garden GO
32. Eat donuts at the Ballard Market with Mark

So in the interest of future writings and the fact that I just need to put thought to paper (internet?) on occasion, I think I”ll be writing a bit more about life in general than solely my need to shove beautiful and delicious food in my face.  Not that I haven’t been eating well recently! Since moving to Seattle the quality of my face-stuffings has improved significantly and I’m absolutely in love with the idea of being able to walk to the market whenever I want, and to be able to visit local-supplied farmer’s markets weekly throughout the year.  Love this place.

However, between the new job and moving house not once but twice, most of the cooking has been left to my otter half, who is quite the cook in his own right. Meanwhile I’ve been knitting up a storm recently, definitely satisfying my Make Stuff need. Multiple hats, a couple of scarves and neck cowls and a sweater that I swear I’m going to finish one of these days are all piled up or delivered to their intendeds to many smiles, which is awesome. And one of these days I’ll break in the new camera and get photos of all this stuff for posterity, I swear!

But in the meantime, I’m off to eat some lunch and get back to the business of keeping my eating and crafting habits afloat.

No really, I promise! But a whole helluva lot has happened in the four months (cringe!) since I Iast graced WordPress with my presence. I have managed to find new awesome employment and relocate my entire life from the right coast to the left coast, which is sort of mind blowing if I do say so.

Exciting? Oh yes.

Exhausting? Absolutely.

Worth it? On so many levels!

But in the ensuing panic of packing, I definitely wasn’t cooking much and my writing fell by the wayside. I did manage to keep myself entertained in other ways, some of which I hope to post about in the near future. I’m also experimenting with the WordPress iPhone app to extend my posting capabilities while I’m in the go. So far it’s terribly awkward, but until I pop for a purse-sized netbook it’ll have to do.

There are posts in the works (including a guest writer who makes amazing food!) so you’ll be gearing from this place soon, I promise. In the meantime it’s back to the grindstone for me!

I had, for all intents and purposes, meant this to be posted during April’s Grilled Cheese Month (why April? who decides these things anyways?) but as mentioned in my previous and apologetically brief post, I’ve been a bit distracted from the food blogging world in the past few weeks. But now, I’m back and slavering for more!

I think pretty much everyone has memories of childhood grilled cheese sandwiches – mine was white bread spread with margarine (no butter in our house!), two or sometimes three slices of processed yellow American cheese and of course Campbell’s tomato soup for dipping. It was a feast of grand proportions challenged only by the triple-decker-PBJ and chicken soup combo, and best served with cheeks pink from crisp early spring or late fall weather.

Now, I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m more than a few years past the plastic packaged pre-sliced American cheese phase, but the comforting call of the grilled cheese sandwich is still as potent at thirty as it was at seven or eight. So how does a self-professed foodie with a deep love of all things dairy-based go about making such a classic combination? By gathering good, simple, delicious ingredients together, frazzling them a bit in a pan, and snarfing them decadently (sometimes without bothering with a plate).

This isn’t a treat I indulge in often, as I am trying to get my butt more towards the “luscious” side of curvy and less on the “Baron Harkonnen/Delta Burke” end of the spectrum, so when I do splurge on a grilled cheese it tends to be a bit decadent. And yes, that is bacon and tomato, the ultimate combo in my humble opinion especially when paired with a bowl of Tomato Gorgonzola Soup.

I have to say that though this sandwich is definitely the perfect lunchtime cheese delivery system, it’s so good as a breakfast option as well. Add a lightly fried egg to the mix and a side of some fresh fruit and you’ll be going strong all morning long, yum!

And it goes especially well with Saturday morning cartoons, if you feel like celebrating your inner seven-year old!

One of the few things that I think everyone can agree on is that as with computer programming, Garbage In – Garbage Out. If you’re stuffing yourself full of fast food and super sugary drinks at every meal, is it really a surprise that you end up feeling terrible and sleeping badly? Now I’m not saying that we should all be vegans or raw food enthusiasts – trust me, I like a good blue steak as much as the next carnivorous dame – but I’ve come to the realization in the past year or so that there are some foods in particular that I just can’t eat without feeling like I got run over by an aircraft carrier.

Coincidentally its not only the rich, over-processed and sickeningly sweet foods that make my GERD rear its ugly head; ripe bananas, though delicious and full of wonderful nutrients and vitamins, make my stomach hurt like nobody’s business. Thankfully, I’ve adjusted my fruit eating habits and know to avoid the squishy delicious bananas and make up for their loss with other, equally tasty fruits and vegetables.

And it turns out that my Mom isn’t the only one who’ll be proud of me for eating my fruits and veggies, there is some evidence that diets high in fresh foods can lower risks for certain cancers, though as one of my favorite science bloggers points out it may not be as wildly effective as some studies have advertised. So as the scientific community continues to research the effects of our diet on our bodies and our futures, one thing is for sure – we all need to spend more time in the produce section.

My childhood memories of the dinner table are mostly pleasant. There was that one incident with experimental macaroni casserole that even the dog wouldn’t eat, but Mom did a great job feeding us on what must have been at times a very tight budget.  My parents made a point to turn off the television, ignore the phone and concentrate on sharing a meal and having conversation with my brother and I.  In hindsight, that attention to mealtime is something of a lost art with most of us scrambling to shovel food into our gaping maws while watching the latest episode of American Idol or surfing the internet.  Multitasking is going to be the death of the dining table, I’m sure.

I remember a lot of steamed broccoli and frozen peas, the occasional side salad, some soggy asparagus, but not too much else in the way of green veggies. I don’t know if that was because they were quick (with two children and a husband clamoring for food I’m sure faster was better) or because they were familiar to us all and branching out would have been met with looks of consternation and surprise fork hockey.  What I do know is that both of my parents grew up on canned veggies as was very typical of their generation, and that whenever Grandma made canned gray green beans Dad and I made identical bleaugh faces and ran for the hills.

So even after I got past the caffeine, ramen and corn-chip based diet of my college years, it’s taken me a while to become comfortable enough to venture far into the vegetable world. The farmers market doesn’t look as much life a wild edible safari as it used to but there are still moments when I’m intimidated by the piles of unfamiliar produce.  On more than one occasion I have stood there and loudly thought at the oddly shaped green things “What the heck am I supposed to do with you?”

While they’re not technically a vegetable, avocados are a good example of this.  I know that they have all sorts of wonderful fatty acids and minerals, I know that they’re supposedly delicious and wonderful, but up until recently I had no idea how one actually cooked with avocados.  I suppose growing up in the midwest didn’t give me much of an opportunity to be exposed to avocados and their loveliness, at least not until I started watching cooking shows as a replacement for reality TV.  For my first foray into avocado cookery, I decided to make that deliciously standard dip: guacamole.

So I bought avocados.

Unripe avocados.

Needless to say, it was awful.  I didn’t really understand why it was awful until the Curious Yet Tasty episode of Good Eats showed me what to look for in a ripe avocado. And while Alton’s green buttercream icing was a little outside my comfort zone(and still is, to be honest) I knew that I could make a more than passable dip with good ingredients.

It couldn’t be easier, chop a small tomato, half an onion, a seeded (or not) jalapeño, some cilantro and a teeny bit of salt; slice a ripe avocado, dressing it with lime juice so it doesn’t brown, and mash the whole mess together in a bowl lightly with the back of a fork.  Let it sit in the fridge covered in plastic wrap for as long as you can, if you’re anything like me you’ll be hovering by the door as soon as it’s mixed but give it at least fifteen minutes so everything melds together.

Et voilà!

Cool and creamy, chunky and just a little bit tangy, paired with some multigrain tortilla chips (or if you’re feeling adventurous, try the jalepeño ones), it’s a delicious start to a meal for two or a convenient and nutrient packed dinner for one. Enjoy!

We wined and dined and cooked together for the whole weekend, one of life’s singular pleasures if I may say so, wandered through Pike’s Place market where I bought some Hawaiian sea salt that will feature in a later post, and eventually made our way through this tiny produce stand in his neighborhood.  The first time we walked in it was with purpose, grabbing tomatoes and avocados for lunch, and I almost didn’t notice the glowing yellow meyer lemons piled in one of the corner stands.

Almost.

I walked past after a few good sniffs of those sunshine peels, desperately telling myself that there was no way citrus would survive a transcontinental flight and what the heck would I do with that many meyer lemons? And thus off we went to have our avocado salad, nary a lemon in hand. But I got to thinking, like you do when food borders on an obsession, that if I packed them carefully I could probably take a couple of pounds of them home with me. And while I sat there internally debating whether it would be worth the hassle, my dear he reminded me of the bergamot marmalade I had gushed over not too long before.

One more quick trip and amid the sad goodbyes and hugs was my rollerbag stuffed to the gills with some clothes, my nifty new spices and two pounds of Citrus × meyeri.

Aren’t they beautiful?

Little round blots of sunshine sitting on my counter and reminding me of the decidedly not-rainy Seattle weather I had just experienced, it makes me so happy! Surprisingly, they survived with only a few dents and dings to speak of, and just perfect for making a nice tart marmalade.

And so I chopped and I chopped, pulling lemon seeds out for hopeful sprouting, chopped and chopped and chopped and if anybody has a better idea than chopping these dang things up with a sharp knife let me know, OK? I don’t own a food processor at the moment, but this right here made me half-wish I did because that would be so much easier.  Though with my luck I’d end up with lemon mush and not marmalade.  And then I stirred and I watched as it bubbled and sent this heavenly smell of bright citrus sweetness into my apartment and finally, in the end I was left with two jars of the most amazingly tart preserve.

One jar I gave as a gift to a wonderful lady who let me spend the weekend crashing at her Boston apartment, and the other is sitting happily in my fridge, brightening up the top shelf considerably.  It’s delightful on wheat toast, bizarrely good on wilted spinach, totally delicious in greek yogurt and with every bite I get to remember our Seattle food adventures with a huge smile on my face.