Star Discovers Cocktails

Star would argue with me about this, but cocktails are not bunny appropriate. Even ones with mango in them. So what is a loving bunny mom to do when her precious is biting her ankles, trying to get her paws on the lovely fruity smelling concoction in mommy's hands? One option would be to shriek and run, of course. But no. Martha's Law is: always be prepared with an over the top solution. So here's mine: Star's Guide to Partying Under the Stars (umbrella optional, but tasty).

Day One: Cocktails at Seven

Hoomans are not the only party species. We rabbits can show dem a thing or two bout fun! But makes sure to hab your hooman help you with dese ingredients, so de hooman does not feel left out.

Assemble de following:

• ice coob trays
• quality baby food, fruit flavor of your choice (I find MANGO to be indespensble)
• bottled spring water, the fancier da better

First, put the baby food in a glass or bowl. Add spring water so the baby food is well diluted but still colorful. Mix very well and pour into de ice coob trays. Fweeze.

Tip: if you hab a weally indulgent mommy like I do, she will layer different flavors in the same tray. She does dis by filling the coobs only a third full, fweezing them, adding another layer, fweezing that, and adding a final layer and fweezing that. But I do not expect your hoomans to be as firmly under your paws as my mommy is, so do not expect this.

Some bunnies are not sofishticated enuf to be trusted with a cocktail glass. If you are one of those bunnies, ask your hooman for a cocktail bowl instead, of cut glass or fine crystal. Put a couple of coobes in your bowl and do not forget to garnish your cocktail appropwiately. Cilantro is nice. So are baby carrots and baby bok choy. Umbrellas are colorful and have a nice crunch but make sure your hooman spears something tasty with them.

Stay tuned, fellow housebuns, for more partying tips from moi, Star! Right now, I have a mango cocktail requiring my utmost attenshion.

Culinary Mania

I blame this guy. Shark's head, she-crab, squeegle (hold the spines) man-about-world going all the places I can't go. I won't mention the food. It's far more fun to watch him eat it. Or drink it. But it's all his fault that Dad has been eating like a king this week while my house lies in messy piles of undone lassitude.

I'm not really complaining. I hate housework. Cooking is far more fun. And it's a great way to lose weight. I expend all my creative culinary mania in the kitchen and by the time dinner is actually ready, I'm tired and nibbly instead of ravenous. Genius!

So far this week Dad and John-at-work have dined on:

• Biltmore Pasta Salad
• Rotini with Pink Pesto and Meatballs
• Pork Sung Sesame Pockets with Asian Noodle Bowl
• Fried Green Tomatoes with Sausage Gravy
• Shrimp and Cheese Grits, Louisiana Style
• Ambrosia Salad

Not to mention the bread machine efforts. My first loaf turned out perfect because Danielle convinced me to use a mix. I doctored it, of course, adding a pile of herbs that looked suspiciously like lawn clippings but the bread turned out very yummy and intensely fragrant.

An amazing thing happened when I took the first loaf out of the machine. A short but demanding line of people turned up wanting me to make loaves for them. Huh. Make dough and they will come? Which is why my entire day off suddenly turned into baking day. I'm gonna have to start charging people. Just taking out the Dill Bread now (no mix this time, hooray!) and starting the Pumpkin Bread in a few minutes.

This weekend, I have a green tomatilla chili I want to try. I wonder if I could scoop out a couple of local tomatoes, stuff the chili inside, sprinkle a bit of cheese and cornmeal on top and bake them?

Ah, summer. I distinctly remember wishing for your arrival with great desperation, when bitter white stuff covered the ground and the sky was always stormy grey. What was I thinking?!

I hate summer. Well, maybe hate is too strong a word (nope). After all, the average American equates a lot of positive images with the season, such as parties, vacation, swimming, more parties, working on a tan, being out of school, enjoying the great outdoors. And these are great things to be sure, but they always seem to fall far short of my expectations. And then there's the weather. Yes, warmth is nice. Warmth as in 70 degrees. But summer isn't warm, it's hot. Scorchingly hot and depressingly bright. Where does all that stupid sunshine come from and how come it has to hurt so much?
It's too hot to do anything without air conditioning. And the longer this summer thing goes on, the more I want to find a cool dark cave, crawl in, and never come out.

In the meantime, I have started watching Anthony Bourdain on the Travel Channel. No Reservations has become my new favorite show, almost an obssession really. After all, what's not to die for? Exotic food, exotic locales, and a level of grumpy cynicism that feels as comfortable as your favorite chair. I like this guy and I'd have a ball following him around. He's like a cuter, hip-er, nicer version of my stupid brother. I wonder if I can get the two to switch places...

I have to admit, it's hard to decide which of Bourdain's subjects is more stimulating: the food or the travel. The landscape of my own freezer is just so barren in comparison. Figuring out what to do for lunch after watching Tony eat his way through Rajasthan can be a nightmare of frustration and thwarted desire. Now that I'm obviously doomed to culinary oblivion for the forseeable future, my foray into a possible pasta salad for dinner just doesn't hold the appeal it once did.

I suppose it could be worse. I just couldn't handle a similar show with a textile arts theme. Traveling to exotic locales, eating exotic food, and discovering native exotic fibers (and the crafts that go with them)... well, that would be something too intense for me to handle. Though if ol' Tony needs a sidekick, my bags are already packed.