The Alec Baldwin Twitter Sandwich feat. Banana’s Baldwin

Recipe Source: Unknown
Year: early 1900s
Recipe: Frying Bananas
Music to cook by:  Fire and Rain (sweet baby James)

Early last month, I watched my second and youngest child leave home and start down the path of college academia.   It took becoming a ruler of a vast empty-nest empire to recognize that the chaos that comes with shuttling two children to various activities, school, and friend’s houses was the chaos that prevented my life from falling into the abyss of monotony.

Needless to say, in their absence my life has become its own virtual hamster wheel, a real Groundhog Day movie.

Phil Connors how do we stop this thing?

Last week I was served a big ole heaping helping of monotony abyss reprieve thanks to Alec Baldwin.   It was such a minuscule event, but the consequences for me were huge.

I spend a lot of time online because it’s how I pay the bills.  The social media explosion has helped me get through the tedious hours I spend chained to a desk writing/editing about various vacuous manufacturing processes. I’m a technical writer for God’s sake.  My work is BORING and said work is that unidentifiable gunk that congeals my monotony salad.

One of the social medias that beckons my Phil Connors brain is Twitter®. I spend time on Twitter® playing word games, telling the world I’m picking my nose, chatting with strangers, and occasionally participating in celebritivity (saying something about a celeb I like).  The celebrities I pay homage to on Twitter are Keith Olbermann (makes politics entertaining), Anderson Cooper (makes politics understandable), Steve Martin (banjo beast with a scoop of funny), Santa Clause (the man with the candy), and Alec Baldwin (SNL host champion).  If Colin Firth and Liam Neeson were on Twitter®, I’d be glued more than I already am.  I mean………..hey……….

HELLO Mr. Darcy! Colin Firth in the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.

On Wednesday, Alec commented on Twitter® that he would like to do an album featuring the influences of Shakespeare and Snoop Dogg.  I responded with a suggestion (see below).  He immediately retweeted my response (copied and pasted my comment on his Twitter® account).  In my best Emeril voice……….BAM……….I was an Alec sandwich.

Alec - Krissy Sandwich..........probably taste like the Twitter bird. TWITTER CHICKEN.

Suddenly, a swarm of Tweeps (Twitter® participants) came out of the Twitter® woodwork.  I was slammed with messages, responses, and new Twitter® friends.  Some of the new Tweeps  have turned out to be really cool and a lot of fun…………..all because of Alec.

For this week’s Great Grandmother blog, I decided to take a recipe out of my Great Grandmother’s journal and Baldwin-ize it to show my gratitude for the Twitter® experience.

Alec and his girlfriend appear to worship at the throne of healthy and Alec’s brother Daniel cooks constantly, so I had to choose wisely.  Since my Great Grandmother’s journal reeks of Southern early century cooking (tons of sugar and lard), there had to be compromise.  I decided to go with a recipe that involves bananas.  I mean how can you beat a recipe called Banana’s Baldwin?  The compromise?  I fried them.  Note: I did use an egg substitute and vegetable oil in lieu of lard to keep this as healthy as possible.

Step 1:

Cue the Sesame Street music. One of these things is not like the other.

How’d the Oreo® get in there?  Ok, Ok.  I confess.  I snuck it into the banana fry party.

Step 2:

Fry baby. Fry.

Step 3:

Ta Da! Banana's Baldwin

Step 4:

The Fab Lab approved of the Banana's Baldwin. Plain banana? No. Fried banana? Yes. She is a true Southern dog.

My Critique
The fried Oreo® spoke the loudest to me and was the first casualty.  I was not disappointed that I fried it.  The cookie itself melted inside the breading.  It was totally Oreogasmic.  The bananas?  They were interesting.  You’d have to be a banana fan to want to cook them regularly.  I felt like I was eating disguised banana’s foster.

There ya have it.  Banana’s Baldwin.  On a more serious note, the Baldwins have created a breast cancer research fund dedicated to their mother.  If you want to help me keep that painting featured in the previous blog out of my house this is a perfect example of how YOU CAN DONATE TO CANCER RESEARCH AND OWN A PAINTING!  Even if you don’t want to own a painting, it’s a good cause that I urge you to check out!   http://www.findacure.org/home.html

 

It’s as American as Apple Pie, Boobs & the NY Yankees

Recipe Source: Unknown
Year: N/A most likely 1920s
Recipe: Apple Cheese Cake
Music to cook by:  I Believe (Frank Sinatra)

My dad is a brilliant physicist by day and an artist by night.  Physics pays the bills.  Art satisfies his soul.

The first nude painting that I ever saw as a child was painted by my dad. It hung in his office in our home.  It was a pastel painting of Playboy Playmate, Donna Michelle (created from a photo).  Needless to say,  I was taught that nude art was not always about sexuality. Being thrust in front of a bare-breasted Manet in an art gallery never embarrassed me.

I’m not a fan of Dad’s nude art (I like his landscapes), but thanks to him I understand why artists paint/sculpt nudes. Sometimes he paints a nude that I actually like. Yesterday,  he unveiled a new nude that rendered me speechless.

It was a day just like any other day.  I was at work.  It was lunch time.  Instead of socializing in the cafeteria, I ate my lunch at my desk and logged on to Facebook. I noticed that Dad was posting pictures of his latest nude paintings.  I thought nothing of it.  Five minutes later he posted the mother of all mothers.  A Dyson vacuum has nothing on the inhale of a gasp that I exerted.

Here it is….. Ready?

Painting by Dr. James Trolinger. God bless Major League Baseball, boobs, and the New York Yankees!

Dad told Facebookville the painting was his tribute to Major League Baseball. The first thing that came to my mind when I saw it was, “It’s as American as apple pie, boobs and the New York Yankees!”   I started giggling uncontrollably.  Never before has a nude painting caused me to act like 7 year-old school girl.  I cannot explain my reaction to this particular painting.

If I had the privilege of editing the painting, I would add an apple-pie bra and an American flag.

Painting by Dr. James Trolinger. Apple pie-bra by Kris Trolinger Brummett.

I suspect to teach me a lesson to not laugh at the nudes, this painting might be waiting for me under the Christmas tree this year at which point I will be obligated to hang it somewhere in my house.   You can help me!  I’ll tell you how in a minute.

To connect this MLBoob painting to the Great Grandmother experiment, I decided to look for an apple-pie recipe in her journal. I thought I would try and construct a real-life apple-pie bra.  Despite the early Americana-ism of apple pie, SHE HAD NO RECIPES FOR ONE!!!!!.  I did find a recipe for apple cheesecake. With my foot still in a cast,  I did not attempt to make an apple cheesecake bra. I thought I’d share the recipe anyhow.  Here it is:

 

Apple Cheese Cake - Where's the cream cheese? DUDE!

Don’t lie! You know you started singing Patty Cake, Patty Cake after reading this recipe!

Okay, let’s go back to how you can keep the  ”Apple Pie, Boobs, and New York Yankees” painting out of my pile of Christmas gifts.   Dad very rarely sells his paintings.  He will, however, give you a painting if you make a donation to breast cancer research and let him know about it.  Please. PLEASE. SOMEBODY MAKE A DONATION AND ASK FOR THIS PAINTING!  :-)

For more information on my Dad’s art, visit http://www.worldsworsttourist.com/art/index.htm.  See a painting you like?  Remember, he will give you ANY available painting if you donate to breast cancer research!  We need to save the ta-tas for the artists of the world!

What if Cinderella Had Worn Herman Munster Shoes

 

If the Fab Lab could talk............

As you know I fractured my foot last week (see previous blog). I feel a monstrous and narcissistic need to talk about it. This need arises from the fact that I have to wear a Herman Munster-esque boot on my fractured foot. I feel clunky. I feel ugly. It begs the question. If Cinderella had donned Herman Munster boots, would Prince Charming have been drawn to her? Would he have traveled the villages high and low looking for the woman who had dropped one Herman Munster boot while hobbling away at midnight? PROBABLY NOT. Maybe I’ll test the theory out in a bar.

Despite it all, the experience of having a fractured foot has been ghoulishly entertaining. The fun actually started with the visit to the podiatrist where I was fitted with the Herman Munster boot. Dr. Munster Bootman massaged my foot while applying the bandages. It was nice. It was VERY nice. I enjoyed it a little too much! In my mind I broke out into a “When Harry Met Sally” restaurant moment. I think the doctor knew too because he said, “You have an avulsion fracture of the 5th metatarsal base. Can you remember that?” I said, “Ummmm”…..”Metatatatat” ……”Ummm”……”What?”  Dr. Herman Munster Bootman smiled and said, “I’ll write it down for you.”  While he was boasting about how good his handwriting was, I was like, “mmhmmm………could you rub my foot again?”

As I drug my booted foot out of the doctor’s office like some Amazonian Quasimoto, my mind raced to find a good story to use in response to the barrage of questions I knew I would receive when I showed up at work.  My initial story was that I had been injured while defending the world against cave crickets.  Thankfully, my deviant coworkers came up with a better rumor………… a rumor worthy of some kind of rumor-creating Pulitzer-prize-thingy award. According to them, I fell off a pole while dancing at the club.

The rumor spread quickly.  It spread so fast that the daily-deal website known as Groupon apparently got wind of my horrific foot-crackin’ pole incident.  Yesterday, they sent me the below advert. Yes, it’s an advert for pole-challenged peeps. A real deal!  Not just fifty, but FIFTY-FIVE percent off regular prices. I think they added the extra 5% off for Herman Munster-booted women like me!

Let me circle back to my original question and add to it. Would Prince Charming go after Cinderella if she was wearing Herman Munster boots while dancing on a pole at the grand ball? PROBABLY!

Bargain Pole Dancing for the Pole Dancing Challenged