You should check out this link. It's fun. It's not a scam, I swear.
Riot and Frolic
a mostly ballroom dance, but also a bunch of other stuff, blog
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For roasting junk. And for seasoning the roasted junk. And eating the seasoned, roasted junk. And having the eaten, seasoned, roasted junk be awesome.
Case in point: roasted chickpeas. It's one of the delicacies that is sorely missed in the summer months for those of us who have no climate control in our homes and therefore, cannot bear to turn on the oven for a period longer than that which it takes to heat up last night's takeout pizza (because those of us without the air-conditioning also do not posess the microwave oven).
But now it's fall. And I can turn my oven on. And put things in it. Like veggies.
I love roasted vegetables. And I don't even like vegetables. You throw anything in a 400 degree oven for an hour with some olive oil and salt and pepper, though, and I bet I'll eat it. My goal this season is to try brussel sprouts. Brussel sprouts. The butt of all the vegetable jokes. Kind of like the Polish.
Okay, so chickpeas (garbanzo beans, makers of hummus) aren't a vegetable. But their nutritional data reads like one: 1 cup gives you a quarter of your daily iron, 15 grams of protein, and 12 grams of fiber to keep you feeling full until… the cows come home? One cup seems like a lot, but then I found these guys…
Roasted Chickpeas
Ingredients:
– 1 can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
– 1 tablespoon or so of olive oil
– salt and pepper to taste
– optional: your favorite spices
Toss all your ingredients in a bowl to lightly coat the little beans with the oily, spicy goodness (I like cumin and cayenne pepper). Put the chickpeas in a shallow pan or cookie sheet in a 400 degree oven for about an hour, stirring a couple times to prevent burning.
You'll hear some popping as they roast, but that's okay. Some of the beans split open as they get hot. The longer they roast, the crunchier they get. Yum!
I like eating them within a day or two. I just discovered they don't keep more than a week, but not before I ate a couple suspiciously-fuzzy ones to confirm it. I had to be sure!
That's for you, Ma. -
It would make more sense if I had used "A Hard Day's Night," wouldn't it? But what fun would that be? Plus, I like this song better.
As promised, I'll give you a run-down of my day. This seems pretty self-important of me, but I actually took note of all this daily business, so I figure I might as well bore you with the details!
8:33am- Wake up. Before the children? Ah, a moment to check my phone then. A little Facebook and Pinterest to start my day off with a very banal bang. Note: Banal bang. I hope you read that correctly.
8:43am- Hear a child. Time to get going. Throw on the running clothes, grab Mae Cake and throw her in bed with the G, take a google at ZooZoo and head out the door.
8:55am- Run. Grrr.
![RunningSucksTee_thumb[13]](https://riotandfrolic.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/mt_imported_image_1758423034.jpg "RunningSucksTee_thumb[13]")
9:13am- Return from the run to prepare breakfast (Waffle Wednesday!), eat breakfast, read the ladies some books, and clean up breakfast.
10:34am- Argue with the G about the upcoming weekend (before we leave for The Cleve; I'm stressed) and feed the baby.
11:00am- Stretch. My back is killing me! Continue stretching while talking to my ma on the phone and sorting laundry. Try my new yoga poses. I don't do yoga. I just want to be able to do this.
12:05pm- Put the ladies down for a nap. Sometimes I feel I do this as much for me as for them.12:33pm- Make six layer bars and roasted chickpeas. Drink coffee. Oh, you haven't had roasted chickpeas? You're missin' out. I'll tell you how to make them soon, but here's a hint: you roast… chickpeas.
1:04pm- Return work emails. Why do I have these? I don't really work.
1:28pm- Start packing. So much stuff.
2:03pm- Get kids ready to drop off the G at work. This takes a half an hour, no matter what. It's why I can never do anything spontaneously anymore.
2:33pm- Grocery shop for the trip. We have a very generous gift certificate to Whole Foods. If I were single, I would shop here and buy organic and fantastic food. But I'm not single. Or rich. Our awesome GC gets us ten items. A $5 loaf of bread. And they don't sell M&Ms. Who doesn't sell M&Ms? Health food stores, you say. But they're low-carb! They totally qualify as health food.
3:31pm- Stress eating: granola bar and crackers. Then mixing of trail mix: peanuts, almonds, raisins, and "milk chocolate gems." Note: not M&Ms. Lunch! Macaroni with pesto, tomatoes, and mozzarella followed by Nutella on graham crackers. Awesome.
4:15pm- More packing, which leads to the sorting of my dance makeup. Yes, dance makeup. Different that regular makeup.
6:18pm- Get ready to go to the studio. Last practice before the trip. A couple of rounds of our dances before Mae Cake has had enough and won't let the G put her down.
8:13pm- Bathtime. Constant vigilance for pooping babies. It's happened a few times. It's gross.
8:57pm- Start dinner: peanut butter and jelly. Feed dinner. Clean dinner off faces.
9:24pm- Bedtime: have a drink of water, read a book, get a kiss and a hug, talk about plans for tomorrow, blow kiss good night, and leave my bedroom light on for potty trips and "reading."
10:09pm- Dinner for grown-ups with my bestie! Weirdly-cooked fish, weirdly-cooked acorn squash, and six layer bars. I was a bit off my game.
12:14am- Self-tanning. Dreaded. But this stuff rocks.
12:43am- Bedtime!
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I'm still alive, Auntie! It's been forever and a day (okay, a week) since I last wrote a post. I know you've been waiting on the edge of your seats for the latest and greatest news from the Brattiest.
After my last note to y'all, the G, ladies, and I drove out to The Cleve for a dance competition. Or to pick up a stand-up bass. Or to go to the playground. Depends on who you ask.
I didn't think I was stressed out about being back on the dance floor (or worse, back in a dance dress), but my total lack of productivity for seven days might speak otherwise. We won't discuss how the competition went at this time. Because it's not Friday. Not because I don't have a good perspective on it yet. Goodness no!
To catch you up, we drove 13 hours to Cleveland and back and I'm convinved my children are angels. We picked up a stand-up bass amidst a mini-Bratt-kids-reunion at my awesome auntie-in-law-in-law's house and danced in a ballroom competition and didn't fall down (sometimes that's all you can ask).
Mae Cake knows how to say "no," and does with gusto. V got a haircut that I'm jealous of- a little 20s-looking bob with bangs. ZooZoo is a smiley little Muppet Baby.
I'm working on two interesting posts about bread. Does it make me lame that I find bread interesting?
The Pinterest Project will return next week. I really will regale you with the Tale of My Day tomorrow. I also have a couple dance posts I'm dying to write up.
But mostly, this post was to let all my die-hard readers (all five of you- kisses!) that I'm alive and well and that you won't have to live without me!
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I have often heard people remark, "I don't know how you do it." I'm assuming they're talking about juggling three little ladies, marriage, dancing, working in an official capacity, and writing all about it. Not about my confidence in walking out of the house with no makeup, my hair in the ever stylish I-just-woke-up bouffant, wearing my slightly ill-fitting workout clothes which happen to have baby goo on them, and carrying three overflowing bags filled with my super-necessary stuff.
First of all, thank you.
Second of all, it's not easy, but it's not rocket science either.
I've figured out a couple things that make my life easier and my general outlook on life happier. This is not advice, but it's "how I do it," so now you'll know…
– Exercise. I happen to run. I hate running, but love the time alone, the fact that it's cheap (just shoes!), and challenging myself. That sounds so cheesy. But every morning when I start my run, I think, "I don't think I can do this." But every time I finish my run, panting and sweating at my doorstep, I think, "Screw you, Doubtful Pants." It makes me put on my Believin' Pants before I do anything else. Optimism!
- Hobbies. I like to crochet and write and listen to music and dance and cook and bake and watch TV series on DVD and snowboard and kayak and hike. I try to do something I enjoy every day, duh. Mostly, it's when the kids are asleep, but sometimes, we dig the same music (they really like Michael Franti and Jason Mraz and Feist and the Beastie Boys and The Heavy) and cook or dance or bake together. Two birds! One stone!
– Lists. I have about four apps on my iPhone just for making lists: to-do lists, shopping lists, chores lists, list of songs I like, list of books to read, list of guys to post on the blog. Then I have a few paper lists- ideas for the menu for next week, what's in the fridge (how much moldy food do you throw out? it's a constant battle for me), what needs to get done today (completely different than a to-do list, mind you). It might seem confusing, but I like to see things in front of me. Visual learner!
– People. I like seeing my peeps, but not too much of them. I really love my friends and family. I would love to cook food for everyone and pour them drinks… five days a week. Those other two days, I want to stay in bed with the covers over my head, phone shut off, and doorbell ripped out to avoid any sort of social interaction. It's not you, it's me. Extroverted introvert!
– Learning. It's great to learn something new everyday. Even if it's useless. "Spatchcock", for example. Useless fun!
Tomorrow I'm going to bore your Believin' Pants off with my daily schedule. Then, I'm going to take you to the greatest place on Earth… Cleveland. Stay tuned, boys and girls! Excitement!
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But Six. Six Layer Bars. Because nuts ruin good desserts. Just ask me. Or my dad. In other words, experts agree that nuts are lame.
Need a sugar fix with an added health benefit of some coconut? Give yourself ten minutes and wallah!
Yes, I said it: "health benefit of coconut" and "wallah." Take that.
Six (or Seven) Layer Bars
Ingredients:
– stick of butter
– sleeve of graham crackers
– chocolate chips
– butterscotch chips
– can of sweetened condensed milk
– coconut
– walnuts if you're lame. Or if you like nuts. Same thing.
Heat your oven to 350 degrees. Put your stick o' butter in a 13" x 9" pan and throw that in the oven until the butter melts. Once it has melted, take it out of the oven. Layer 1: complete. You know it's good if the first of six layers is butter.
Smash your sleeve of graham crackers into little bits. In other words, crush them. Sprinkle your graham crumbs over the melty butter. Smoosh the crumbs down with a spatula to even out the layer. Layer 2: complete.
Sprinkle butterscotch chips over pan of crumbs. Layer 3: complete.
Sprinkle chocolate chips over butterscotch chips. Layer 4: complete.
Pour sweetened condensed milk over all the sprinkled goodness. Layer 5: complete.
Sprinkle coconut over the milky layer. Layer 6: complete.
(You could sprinkle the walnuts here to make Layer 7: complete.)
Bake for 15-20 minutes until the coconut is golden brown.
Dig a fork into the simpleness of melted yum.
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– French bread that looks and tastes the part.
Bonus: after a trip out to my great auntie's, some swanky new baguette pans with which to experiment. More bread adventures next week!
– a fun new crochet project. I am probably going to run out of my pretty yarn before I am done. "Dye lot" is a myth, right?
– realization that every time I use the word "myth," I think of the Muppet Movie. Anybody? Carol Kane? Who's with me?
– Caprese sammies. Tomato, mozzarella, pesto, balsamic vinegar on my BA bread. Yum!
– feeding America. HahaHA! I'm not giving to charity; I just happened to make dinner for my friend, "America," a lot.
– long hair. It's real, people.
– the thumbs-up to dance our first competition after baby this weekend from the only person who matters.
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Oh man, puns are the best. The French were wrong.
I have short hair.
Can't you tell?
I've been growing out my hair since… forever. Well, since someone told me I need to have long hair to dance. Three guesses on who that was. Hint: it wasn't the G. And if you just read the blog and don't actually know me, you'll have a hard time guessing.
It was/is a totally valid point. I sweat a lot when I exercise (dancing included!) and even my very ballroomed (read: hairsprayed) short hair couldn't last through multiple rounds for nine dances. Fact: I was a hot mess after quarter-finals.
To prove my love of dance, I entered hell: long hair. But I still pictured myself like this…
And to keep myself in the dark, as my hair got longer, I just kept throwing it in a ponytail and thumbing my noise at, like, style. But here I am, two years later, with all this length and no fun skillz to play with it.
I turned to Pinterest for some funness to try. Here are my first trials.
This grand site, The Beauty Department, gave me the knotted ponytail. Culled by LC (Lauren Conrad) of the OC or something, this site has magical tutorials for makeup, hair, and lookin' good.
I figure, I tie my shoes (no, I don't, I have Velcro), so I can tie my hair, too.
It turns out I can't. Looking in a mirror probably didn't help (direction confusion!), but I tried it with wet hair, product, dry hair, and lots of rubber bands and all I ended up with was this…
I then tried a half knot, but that just looked like a glorified Topsy Tail. Lame. And a lot of work. Lamer!
Then I tried the sock bun, from The Other Emily.
Pretty, easy, sock bun. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…
1. It works with wet or dry hair.
2. It works with clean or dirty hair.
3. It takes three minutes.
4. You get to say "sock bun."
5. I get compliments all day.
6. You wear a sock in your hair.
7. It works for many lengths.
Turns out I did this a couple years ago for a competition, but I had a fancy doodad that I paid money for, instead of a [clean] used thigh high. Oops, now I've lost the male readers to Lala-land with the words "thigh high." Come on back, boys.
Anyhow, it's like a bun, but better. It's perfect.
[Don't mind the child's potty seat.]
Isn't my hair delightfully blue here? I just dyed it. It is "blue-black." And I love it. And if I ever decide to become a pirate, I will be called Captain Blueblack.
So, Knotted Ponytail, your skillz have proved to much for me. But Sock Bun, we will be lovers until the end of time.
Peace out,
Captain Blueblack
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Well, request for yarn. Yarny goodness.
I love yarn. Yarny yarny yarn. Down it goes, down into my basket… Of yarn.
Some nicey-nice (today's post is sponsored by the letter "Y") lady asked me if I would craft something for a benefit's silent auction. The benefit is for this great group- Beyond Ballroom Dance Company, so, duh, "yeah!"
Besides being rather honored at the request, I love the group which will benefit from my crafting.
No, I really love them. All the members of this company. Each and every one of them. Personally, or at least in a not-at-all-stalkery kind of way. Did I mention my bestie is in the company? Yes, she's a stud in a totally girly way.
Anyhow, they get to dance at the new Cowles Center in Minneapolis, which I hear is amazeballs. You should go to their show. It's in 2012, so you could give tickets to the show as a Christmas gift. Yeah, that's right. I'm pluggin' their show. What?
So, remember this disaster?
I was looking for a nifty square to work into a groovy shrug/scarf business for the very silent auction I've been rambling on about.Well, I found a fancy pattern! Actually, it's not fancy. Pretty simple. Or pretty and simple. Or rockin' and simple, more like!
Yeah.
Here it is.
Wow. That is a terrible picture!
The pattern comes from Beyond the Square. It's a book for crochet nerds where the author, Edie Eckman, gives you patterns for pieces to crochet in circles, squares, hexagons, paisley blobs, ovals, everything.
I will not want to stab myself with a crochet hook after making twenty of them, so we are making progress!
And for those of you wondering about the CBS contest, I am a loser. It was an honor just to be nominated? By myself?
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No, I'm not asking for money. Again. I actually received a request (from an awesome lady) to write about making bread. Like the kind with dough. That you make with flour.
I laughed when she asked me because I've been trying to make french bread for a couple months and have been failing at it. It's not so much that the bread doesn't get made; it's that I make it and it doesn't look like french bread. Stranger still, is that it tastes like french bread, but I want it to look the part, dammit!
I think I've discovered some key steps, because I really made French Bread this time…
Bread doesn't have complicated ingredients. It's just flour, yeast, sugar, oil and water.
There's a million recipes for bread out there. They're all pretty much the same. I used this one.
Since you're working with yeast, you throw it in some warm water with sugar to… do what yeast does. (I really don't know what the process is, but that's what you do). Recipes always give you the temperature the warm water should be, but who wants to use a thermometer? Not this girl. Warm= baby bath water. Not scalding. Not cold. More than room temperature.
Then, recipes will tell you to let the yeast/sugar/water sit until "foamy," anywhere from 5-10 minutes. Not specific enough! I say, leave it until you turn around to look at it and say "Oh, sugar!" because you think you left it too long and it is about to overflow its container.
Here's a picture of it just mixed together and a couple minutes later, where it is almost "foamy" enough.
Now, if you don't have one of these swanky mixers, get your workout pants on because you're going to knead them. Oh, delightful puns!
You want your bread to be "smooth and elastic" after kneading it for "about 6 minutes." There might be a science to kneading, but I'm inspired by those salt water taffy machines at the fair and my anger at bad drivers, so just start smooshing that lump of flour any which way you like. "Smooth and elastic" means that the dough that your hands were covered in when you started is now able to be peeled off and stuck in the big ball of dough and doesn't so much stick to your hands. It also means that you're pretty sure your arms will be sore tomorrow from all the pushing and prodding and pulling you've done.
Next, you can put in a bowl and walk away. Give the kids a bath, the dog a bath, walk the husband, clean the attic, whatever. But give it some time. When you turn around to look at it and say "Oh, sugar!" because you think you left it too long and it is about to overflow its container, it has risen enough.
Then you punch it in the face. It's very satisfying.
Make your loaves. I really like to put cornmeal on pan, so the bottom crust is super crunchy.
Drink some wine while you let it rise again, like a phoenix! (That's for you, Nea.)
Bake it. It's done when it makes a hollow sound when you tap it. Seriously. Try it.
And oh, sugar, it was good.
Lessons learned? Fuhgeddaboudit! Mix stuff up and leave it until you say, "Oh, sugar!" Like how I do laundry ("when did I put that in the dryer? oh, I didn't").
Some of you have asked how I turned out in the CBS contest (the link in the left corner). I don't find out until tomorrow, so I'll let you know then! Thanks for voting!
Riot and Frolic 