Open-Faced Portobello and Pepper Hotties

Sometimes, no matter what is going on in the world, the only thing that makes everything seem right is a good, cheesy sandwich.

So simple.
So yummy.
So satisfying.

When I am first getting to know someone, one of my favorite questions to ask them is, "If someone told you, that for the rest of your life, you could only eat sandwiches or pizza, which would you choose?"

Their answer will either seal the deal, or ruin our shot at a lifelong friendship.
I'm kidding.
(Sort of...)

For me, sandwiches win every time.
I mean, come on, you can make a pizza inspired sandwich.
Duh.

Here is one of my favorite sandwich recipes in the whole wide world.
It's hearty and meaty and so delicious.
Plus, it's super easy and cheap to make.
I hope you will try it, and I hope that you like it as much as we do.

Open-Faced Portobello and Pepper Hotties
4 good, crusty buns, split
1 1/2 sticks softened butter, divided
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp fresh oregano
3 large portobello caps, sliced
1 red pepper, sliced
1 yellow pepper, sliced
1 meduim onion, sliced
8 provolone or provel cheese slices
3 Tb neutral oil
salt and pepper
red pepper flakes (optional)

Mix the oregano, garlic, and a good sized pinch of salt and pepper into 1 stick of the softened butter until well combined.
Smear this mixture onto the split buns and set aside.

In a large pan, over medium heat, heat 3 Tb oil.
Add the onion and cook until it begins to become translucent.
Add the sliced peppers and cook until they begin to soften, being careful not to overcook.
Remove onion and pepper mixture from the pan and set aside.

In the same pan, melt the remaining 1/2 stick of butter over medium low heat, and add the mushrooms.
Cook, stirring occasionally, until the juices begin to release and the mushrooms are cooked thoroughly.
Season with salt and pepper and add the onion and pepper mixture back into the pan.

Let cook for 5 minutes.

Turn on the broiler and spoon the mushroom mixture onto the split buns, directly on top of the seasoned butter.
Place a slice of provolone or provel cheese over each sandwich half and place under the hot broiler until the cheese melts completely.
Top with fresh oregano and red pepper flakes.

Makes 8 open faced sandwiches.

Sandwiches Speak to my Soul,
Lana

33 Candles on my Cake

Today, because it's my birthday and I am feeling sappier than usual, I have been sitting here thinking of all the things that make me happy.
Then, because I want you to be happy, too, I decided to share some of them with you.

1.   Jim and Grace
 At 5:30 this morning, when I was a not quite awake, Jim let me cuddle into the crook of his arm and said, "It smells like old people in here."  I could feel him smile as he kissed me on the top of my head and whispered, "Happy Birthday, Baby!"
As we fell back to sleep, I couldn't help but think that there is no better feeling than being the first thought on someone's mind.  I was proven wrong, when two hours later, I was woken up by Grace.  She came bounding into my room, placed her chubby hands on my both sides of my face and sang, "Hap-py to tooooooo!"
My heart melted.
I love them both more than any words I write could ever fully express.

2. My Family
They drive me nuts, and I spend a lot of time thinking I was adopted, but they make me smile more than anything.

 3. My Friends
Some of them know each other and some of them don't.
Some of them live close and others live entirely too far away.
Some are them are the kind of friends I call in a crisis, and some are the friends I call when I need a good laugh.
Some of them are both, and for that select few, I am so thankful.
I'm not sure when or where exactly the bonds of friendship begin, I am just so happy that they do.

4.  Cake for breakfast
Yep, I went there. 
In fact, I had two slices.

5.  New Year, New Me
This morning, on a IM chat with a friend, he said something very profound.
He told me that when it comes to life, he makes the fun parts more fun and forgets about the rest.
So simple and so damn smart.
It's my birthday resolution to start my new year-my new gift-this way.
Well, right after I have another slice of cake, of course!

Eat something naughty in honor of me today and never grow up!

33 and Happier than Ever,
Lana 

The Best "I Don't Feel Like Cooking Dinner" Dinner

About noon yesterday, I resigned myself to the fact that I just didn't feel like cooking dinner. 
Yes, I had decided before lunch that I would not be cooking dinner.
Is that weird?
To plan one meal before you have eaten the one that comes before it?
Oh well...
I also didn't feel right ordering a pizza from our favorite pizza joint, considering I had just been grocery shopping and our fridge  and cabinets were bursting with possibilities.
Ho-Hum.
What to do?

First, I made a box of this:

I made it just like the directions directed.
Once, in 3rd grade, we were given a test on following directions.
The first direction was to read all of the directions, and once you had done so, you were supposed to sit quietly until everyone had finished.
So while all of my classmates sat quietly with their hands folded in their laps, I called out random words, stood up, jumped on one foot, and did a jumping jack.
The whole time I thought I was so far ahead of them, but the joke was on me.
How traumatic.
Did you ever do that test?

Anyway, let's get back on track.
I followed the directions exactly like they said, (because of the trauma endured in 3rd grade!) but I did omit the tomato because Jim loathes tomatoes.
Unless they are Roma or sun dried or fresh off the vine or smashed into pizza sauce.
But that's another story.

Next, I added 4 chopped green onions

3 chopped roasted red peppers, straight out of the jar.
(Didn't I say I didn't feel like cooking?)

1 cup cooked brown lentils.
(I had some already made because Grace loves them.  You may have to cook these, but really, it's worth the 5 minutes.)

And finally, a cup of feta, because feta makes it bettah.

Then, I poured about 3 tablespoons of olive oil over the whole thing, seasoned it with salt and pepper and ate it all up.

Much better about following directions,
Lana

Setting the Bar

Like most people, I get set in my ways.
I find that despite the obscene selection at the store, I always end up buying the same lotions, soaps, shampoos and conditioners.
Occasionally, though, I branch out and try something new.
This rarely ends well.

A few months ago, I decided to try a new face cleanser.
Instead of my trusty bar of Nuetrogena, I bought some store brand in a pump that promised to deliver the same exact results for a fraction of the price.
Why I fell into this trap, I will never know.
Afterall, a 3-pack of Neutrogena is less than $4 and lasts months, but the "bargain" reeled me in like a fish on a hook.
And just like a fish on a hook, I didn't realize the mistake I had made until it was too late.  As I stood at the sink, washing my face with a cleanser that can only be described as one step above Comet bathroom cleaner, I knew I had been duped.  They got me, hook, line and sinker.

It took me a few months to use up my Junk-in-a-Pump, but I refused to throw it out and waste it.
I found myself slathering on extra lotion every day to counteract the moisture loss, and my skin hated me for it.

Yesterday, when I heard the gurgle and empty wheeze that signifies the end of a bottle of face wash, my heart began to sing.
On my shopping trip later that day, I joyfully tossed a 3-pack of Nuetrogena bars into my shopping cart and I felt my skin cells breath a sigh of relief.
Last night, as I washed my face with the familiar bar of transparent bliss, I felt something, and I'm not certain, but think my epidermis may have stood up and done The Wave.

Clean & Moisturized,
Lana

A List Maker's Garden

I have a friend from Denmark who recently told me the easiest way to avoid disappointment, is to not expect much. 
While this advice may sound much too simple, I decided two weeks ago, while I was burying minute seeds into brown, moist peat pots, I would take on my first attempt at gardening with this mantra in mind.

Normally, I am a Type A personality.
I'm organized, and when I do something, I do it right the first time.
I plan things down to the finest detail.
I make lists. 
I don't lose my keys.
I never have a panic attack on my way to the airport, wildly wondering if I have forgotten my passport.

Gardeners can't be like this.
Sure, they are organized, they have to be, but they can't be control freaks because there are so many things about gardening that are out of their control.
Rain, drought, and pests can all ruin an entire crop, and with that knowledge, gardeners still go on planting.
They have faith that in spite of all of the things that can go wrong, something always goes right.

Yesterday, I transplanted my seedlings, which are now standing a mighty 3 inches tall, into pots and set them outside.
This morning, when I went out to shoo away the stray cat who was lurking under our bird feeder, this is what I saw:

In a moment, I had visions of tall, sturdy poll beans growing up the handmade trellises attached to our shed.
I imagined sitting with Grace on the front porch, and snapping our bountiful harvest into a ceramic bowl as the sun set in the distance.
My stomach growled at the thought of eating mounds homegrown, organic, fresh beans.

Suddenly, a little Danish voice inside of my head whispered,
"Don't expect too much, and you will not be disappointed".

I shook my head to help clear it of all the expectations I had conjured up, and took a step towards my plant, admiring how far along it had come.
I felt so grateful and amazed that just two weeks ago it was just a seed, but with the mantra fresh in my mind, my Type A personality still couldn't help leaning in and quietly singing to it,

"I'm beggin' you sweetly.
I'm down on my knees.
Oh, please-grow for me!"
(Name that musical!!)

Got it Under Control,
Lana

Parade Route

I think I may have mentioned before how much I love St. Patrick's Day.
Oh, I haven't?
Well, I lurrrrrrrve St. Patrick's Day!

On Saturday, the small town over the river from us was having a parade, so after a quick breakfast of green short stacks, smothered in butter and syrup, we donned our green apparel and headed out the door.

Isn't there just something so wonderful about hometown parades?
Even if they aren't you're hometown?

I love watching children line the streets and look down the road in eager anticipation for the line of magic that will soon be making it's way towards them.

I love watching old men sit in tattered lawn chairs talk about the weather.
I love watching old women sit in tattered lawn chairs talk about old men.
I love  that the fire truck's blaring horn always makes me jump, no matter how much I will myself not to.
I love the fake dog on a leash that pees on people's legs, just as long as he stays away from me.

Oh, and I'm a sucker for parade gum.
You know the kind I am talking about, right?
The kind that starts out hard as a rock, but soon turns into a sickeningly sweet blob of gooey, juicy, cavity causing goodness? The kind, that after two minutes of pure heaven, loses all of it's flavor and has made your jaws feel as if you have been chewing for days?
Yeah, you know the kind. You steal it our of your child's parade bag, too.

I suppose what I love most about parades, though, is the way they bring people together.  Suddenly, instead of a street full of strangers, we become a community of happy people, clapping our hands in support of our local fire department, hootin' and hollerin' for farmers driving John Deer tractors down the road and eating candy off the street. 
Doesn't get much better than that, does it?

Blow Me Down Creamed Spinach

If you are looking for a healthy recipe, you've come to the wrong blog post, my friend.
The recipe that I am about to share with you is far from being featured in Health magazine.
It's chocked full of butter, cream, and salt.
It's sinful, but good Lord, is it good.

Wait!  Don't go!  There is something nutritious about it. 
Spinach is the star ingredient!
See?
I'm not a total heathen.
In fact, I'm good to the finach, cuz I eats me spinach...

Yep, this is the kind of recipe that would make Popeye proud.
And you know what? I think that Olive Oyl must have had this recipe stuffed away in a cookbook somewhere, because let's face it folks, it wasn't her good looks that kept Popeye around.

.
Blow Me Down Creamed Spinach
3 Tb butter
4 cloves garlic, sliced
1 medium yellow onion, diced
2 Tb flour
1/4 cup heavy cream
1/2 cup milk
1 large frozen bag of spinach, thawed.
salt and pepper

Thaw the spinach in a colander, and squeeze all the excess juice out of it.
In a large pan, melt the butter over medium heat and add onion.
Cook until the onion begins to soften and add the sliced garlic.
Cook for 2 minutes then dust with the flour and stir continuously until the flour combines with the butter making a paste.
Add the cream, milk, salt and pepper and stir continuously.

Once everything starts to thicken, add the spinach and heat through.
Adjust seasonings and resign yourself to the fact you are going to have to spend the rest of the evening in your comfy pants.

Best Face Forward

You may recall from an earlier post that I am not a makeup kinda gal.
If you didn't read that post, here is a short summary:
I don't wear much makeup.

I use a cream blush that triples as an eyeshadow and lip color.
If I am feeling the need to be really fancy, I slap on a coat of mascara, dramatically bat my lashes and head out the door.
Voila!

However, when I was pregnant with Grace, I suffered not only from massive weight gain, but also from the dreaded mask of pregnancy. I thought it would go away after giving birth, but here we are, almost two years later, and it's still there in all it's brown, splotchy glory.

I am sure most people don't notice it.
Or at least they act like they don't.
It's a scattering of light beige patches on my upper lip and in the middle of my forehead that gets dramatically darker the longer I spend in the sun.
Most days it really doesn't bother me, but there are days when I wish I could put on a mask and hobble around singing, "Music of the Night".

I guess yesterday was one of those days, because I just wanted to cover it up and pretend that my skin was flawless.
So while I was out shopping for "soft foods" because Jim had a tooth pulled, I wandered into the makeup aisle and began looking at all the foundation choices.
Jeez, did I feel overwhelmed.
 
Nude?  Beige?  Fair?
Aren't I all of those things?

Creamy? Whipped? Smooth?
Is this the foundation aisle or did I somehow wander into the ice cream section?

I spent what felt like hours looking at them all until I finally decided on Revlon PhotoReady foundation in Nude.
It promised "perfect airbrushed skin in any light" and that sounded exactly like what I was looking for.

Almost immediately after I got into the car, I gently spread some right over the top of my problematic areas, and as I studied my reflection in the rear view mirror, I had to admit that I thought it did a pretty good job covering them up.
This is what I was expecting.

What I wasn't expecting, was how amazingly it held up.
It lasted all day.
Through yard work, wrestling matches with an almost two year old, a 2.5 mile walk and dinner preparations.
It even stayed on while we laid on the couch and watched a movie after Grace had gone to bed.
To top it all off, it didn't even feel like I was wearing any makeup, which is a big selling point for me.
I love this stuff!

Feeling like a Supermodel,
Lana

Digging Spring

There is something to be said for Spring, isn't there?

I love that it is quarter til 7 and it's still light out.
I love that Grace played so hard outside today in the fresh air, that she is still napping.
(That's gonna hurt later!)
I love that tonight, I got to walk around the gorgeous lake that is up the road from our house, and watch the sun dip down and sink away behind the tall pine trees, while the geese glided across the still water.

I love that I'm standing barefoot in my kitchen, cooking dinner, and drinking a good, cold beer.

Speaking of good beer, have you tried New Belgium's seasonal beer, Dig?
It's labeled as a seasonal pale ale, and also says that "Sorachi Ace hops provide a Spring zing with incredible lemon aroma."

Yes, yes, that is true.
It is incredible.

But they should just skipped all that fancy brewmaster talk and used layman's terms, instead.
If they had, here is what the label would say:
 "We have stuffed everything you love about Spring - sunny days, delightful yellow daffodils bopping in the breeze, the scent of freshly tilled earth, and nighttime porch sittin' - into a bottle.
Then, we slapped an adorable label onto it and called it Dig.
Trust us, if you like beer, you're gonna love it."

Digging it, 
Lana Dig Diggity

Welcome Home

Jim just got home from being gone for 3 days.
He was in Ohio at a trial/school function/well deserved mini-vacation.

He would deny the last part, but when he told me that for dinner last night he had beet gazpacho, goat cheese stuffed portabellos and a baked apple stuffed with melted caramel, he lost the right to say it was all work, no play.

I am happy he had a wonderful time.
I am also happy to have him home, but more importantly, Grace is happy to have her Daddy home.

This afternoon, when his friend dropped him off on our front porch and he knocked on the locked screen door, Grace just about jumped out of her tiny pink rocking chair.
Before he even had a chance to put his suitcase down, she was hugging his legs, and hasn't let go of him since.
At the grocery store, she wanted to hold his hand over mine.
At dinner, she sat next to him and ate from his plate. 

Grace adores her Daddy, and while she and I were perfectly capable without him home, we definitely felt a huge void while he was gone.
While I am typing this, I can hear them in the bathroom.
It's Grace's bath time, and just like every night, Jim is in there with her.
I can hear her sloshing around in the bathtub, and I know that Jim is sitting next to the tub, letting Grace dump water onto his head because she is squealing with delight.
I can also hear them singing an awful rendition of "Elmo's World", and although both of them are totally tone deaf, it's music to my ears.

The Best Corned Beef You'll Ever Eat

When we first stopped eating meat, a lot of people gave us a hard time.  Some made jokes at our expense, some told us we would never be able to stick to it, and some looked at us like we were insane.  My dad looked at me like I was a pariah instead of his youngest daughter, and quickly asked me what on earth we would eat on Thanksgiving, never mind it was still over 7 months away! I guess he had forgotten about the hundreds of side dishes that are served up each year. Others nodded in agreeance with our decision, but then quickly added that they would never be able to give up meat. "Yes, I know the animal husbandry practices in the United States are just awful," they would say, "but you know, what difference is your tiny family really going to make in the scheme of things?"
I honestly never really know how to answer that question because I'm not sure of the answer.  I mean, I know we aren't putting Tyson out of business or anything, but we also aren't giving them a dime or our money, either. So it has to balance out somewhere, right?

Lordy, Lordy

40 years ago today, my favorite man in the whole wide world was born.
Needless to say, it's a big day in our house.

From the moment I met Jim, I knew that he was something special. 
Unfortunately, this moment came when I was a sophomore in high school and he was 24 years old and had no clue I even existed.
Fast forward lots of life and many years later when we met again, and he finally noticed me, too.
Once again, I knew he was something special, and 6 years later here we sit at the kitchen table, drinking cups of Happy Birthday Coffee from the french press and waiting for Grace to wake up.

There is an old quote that says, "Follow Your Bliss" 
I love it and I often find copies of it folded into the pages of books, stuffed in our kitchen junk drawer or written on the backs of my favorite photographs.

Jim has taught me to do this.
He is fearless when it comes to pursuing his goals, he takes big bites out of life, and he is the first person on the dance floor at weddings.
Small talk is a foreign language to Jim, and his easy going attitude gives him the unique ability to have conversations with anyone.  He knows no stranger.
He is genuinely interested in each and every person he meets and he likes to dig deep.
Jim is the kind of person who backs down from nothing.
He is the first person to offer his help when needed, and even if he doesn't exactly know how to help, he will figure it out, even if that means spending hours researching the problem.
He will try anything once and because of this, he has often been accused of being a dreamer or not knowing who he is. 
This is not  the case. 
Jim just lives life the way that it was meant to be lived: Fully and with total abandon.
He challenges me, keeps me on my toes, and makes me feel beautiful and loved every single day.
Watching the care, patience and love that he pours out into Grace makes me wonder how on earth I ever got so lucky.

Jim doesn't just follow his bliss, he marches towards it.
Happy 40th Birthday, Darling.
Love, L

Top 5 Irish Reasons I love March

1. Maureen O'Hara in 'The Quiet Man"
Growing up, I was never particularly close to my stepfather. Like many blended homes, we had a tough time, well, blending.

Church Lady Peanut Butter Pie

There are desserts, and then there are desserts.
You know the difference, right?

Dessert is a sweet little treat after a meal.
Dessert is a sweet little treat after a meal, which is so decadent, that the entire time you are eating it you can hear Weird Al singing, "Fat!  I'm Fat! Come on!"

Oh, Al.  What the hell is wrong with you?

Anyway, on Friday, I made a dessert.

I found the recipe while I was leafing through one of those wonderful cookbooks that you can buy at church fundraisers.

The kind of cookbooks that I like to imagine are put together by sweet, plump, white-haired grandmothers who know a thing or two about cooking.

If you are ever looking for a crowd pleasing dessert, just flip to the "Sweets" section of one of these little cookbooks and you will not be disappointed. 

Basically, they are a treasure trove of all the best desserts in the universe, and here is the little gem I unearthed on Friday afternoon:

Church Lady Peanut Butter Pie

30 Oreos

1/4 cup butter, melted

1 1/2 C creamy peanut butter

seeds from half of a vanilla bean

1 brick of cream cheese, softened

1 tub of Coolwhip

1 1/2 C powdered sugar

For the crust:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a food processor, whiz up Oreos until they turn into fine crumbs and you can no longer see the white cream filling.

Combine all but 1/2 cup of the Oreo crumbs with the melted butter and press into an 8 inch pie pan. 

Bake for 5-7 minutes.

Remove from oven and let cool.

For the filling:

In a stand mixer, combine peanut butter, cream cheese, and the seeds from half of the vanilla bean.

Beat until smooth. 

With a rubber spatula, scrape down the sides of the bowl, add the powdered sugar and mix until well combined.

Add the tub of Cool Whip and blend on low speed incorporating all of the fluffy goodness.

Next, give your beater to the cutest person in the house, and let her lick it clean.

Finally, spoon peanut butter filling onto the Oreo crust and dust with the leftover Oreo crumbs.

Refrigerate for 1 hour before serving.

Ham on,

Lana

:

Jim's Favorite Brussel Sprouts

When we first started dating, Jim and I had an entire conversation about crackers.
The reason behind this was, that as we sat cross-legged on the floor putting together a puzzle that was scattered across the coffee table, we inhaled a box of Garlic and Olive Oil Triscuits.
It was a "new" flavor that was out for the holidays and, oh man, they were delicious.

Despite helping me polish off the entire box of Triscuits, Jim swore that his favorite snack crackers were Unsalted Saltines.
Isn't that the biggest oxymoron in the world?
Unsalted  Saltines.
Anyway, to this day, I have never seen him buy a box of them. 
Cheez-It's?  Sure.
Pretzels?  You bethca.
But Unsalted Saltines?  Nope.
I boringly digress.

The "Favorite Cracker Conversation" ended up opening a giant can of worms for us.
Soon, during marathon phone conversations, we were asking each other all sorts of "favorite" questions.

"What's your favorite color?"
"What's your favorite season?"
"Mint or cinnamon toothpaste?"
And my personal favorite:
"What's your favorite food?"

Like every other couple in history, we were eager to find out every tiny detail about the other, and once, during one of these conversations, I mentioned that brussel sprouts were one of my all-time favorite vegetables.

Jim did not believe me. 
He hated brussel sprouts and couldn't imagine anyone claiming they were a favorite food.
He thought that they were gross, mushy, and icky.

No!
He was wrong!
They were crunchy and amazing and I loved them.
Could this be the end of our new found love?
I promised, that if he would let me make them for him just once,  I could and would change his mind.
I'm not sure if it was my confidenence in being able to convert him, or because we were in the beginning stages of love, but he promised to give brussel sprouts a try.

6 years later, Jim bats for Team Brussel Sprout.
Here is how I converted him:

Start with a pound or two of fresh brussel sprouts.
Wash them and halve them.
Then, pour 2 Tb of olive oil into a skillet and heat over medium high heat.
Add the brussel sprouts and move them around so they aren't piled up on eachother.

Let the brussel sprouts cook, undisturbed, for about 5-7 minutes.
They will start to brown up and once they are all nice and brown, give them a flip and let them cook on the other side for a few minutes.
Remember: you don't want them to burn, you just want them to carmelize.  If you think your brussel sprouts are burning, turn them down a smidge.

Once all the brussel sprouts are carmelized and starting to soften up, toss in one sliced and washed leek.

Let the leek cook down a bit then squeeze the juice of a half of a lemon over the top of everything.

Next, toss in your cooked whole wheat penne pasta, grate a good amount of high quality parmesan over the top, and season with kosher salt and cracker pepper.

Mix everthing together and serve it up on a big platter with extra parmesan.

When I make this dish, I like to serve it on one great big dish with two forks.
I find dining like this not only reduces the amount of dinner dishes, but also sparks interesting dinner conversations like,
"Hey Jim, remember that time you told me you didn't like brussel sprouts?
Yeah?  Well, keep your fork on your half of the platter."

Jim's Favorite Brussel Sprouts Recipe
2 Tb olive oil
1-2 pounds fresh brussel sprouts, trimmed and washed
1 medium leek, sliced and washed
1 pound whole wheat penne pasta
Fresh, grated parmesan, to taste
salt and pepper
juice of 1 lemon

In a large pot of salted water, cook pasta until al dente.
Drain and set aside.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet, heat olive oil over medium heat.
Add brussel sprouts and cook, undisturbed, until they start to brown. This will take about 5-7 minutes.
Flip them over and let them cook a few minutes longer.
Add the slice leek and cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add lemon juice and cook for 1 minute.
Add cooked pasta, parmesan cheese and season with salt and pepper.
Toss everything together and serve with extra parmesan cheese and lemon wedges.