Amidst the blood, sweat and tears of the past few days I decided I needed something beautiful, both to look at and to eat. So today baby sis and I made this beautiful strawberry layer cake. Isn't it lovely? Fresh organic strawberries, a little orange juice in the frosting...mmm, fruity, decadent deliciousness.
Except, it tastes awful! Really, really bad.
Maybe it was because Maya dumped one egg down the cupboard and it hit the floor (& Star refused to eat it!) and then she poured some of the sugar in the mixing bowl but a lot of it landed on the counter and all over her. So, I had to make some adjustments but, unfortunately, it didn't work out. It tastes like raw flour and straight-up buttermilk. And, like my last batch of strawberries, these are still quite tart. Ick.
Now, what do you think of this next picture? This was one of our dinner's from last week. Gross huh? It looks like a frog died on top of the polenta but before it did it squirted blood all over the plate (and what's that gross stuff oozing out of the chicken?)
But it was delicious!
It was the creamiest polenta I've ever made and the dead frog look-alikes are caramelized onions from a fresh red onion I bought at farmers market. The chicken recipe was gorgonzola-stuffed chicken breasts with strawberry gastrique...scrumptious! I used blue cheese instead but it turned out moist and flavorful and the red frog blood is actually a reduced strawberry sauce (the gastrique).
I don't know why I'm pointing all of this out. There has to be some cool life lesson there somewhere. Maybe I've seen too many episodes of Olivia, or I need a better camera, or I need photography lessons, or a solid night of sleep...hmmm.
Okay, and this photo is of my angels feeling a bit better today and giving each other some love. Aren't they sweet? Owen got the bloodiest bloody nose I've ever seen today...c'mon! Uncle, mercy, I give in! No more fevers and coughs and simultaneous pandemic alerts about the swine flu. Geez, OM's mama can't take no mo!
And this last photo: another man down! Woody never (ever) complains. The only way I know if he feels bad is by how he dresses. Even in 32 degree weather, he wears shorts and tee shirts after work, always. Except when he's sick. When he feels bad he changes into sweats, long sleeve shirts or sweatshirts and puts on a hat. And lays on the couch (instead of the floor). So, I'm the last man standing. Think good thoughts that I at least stay healthy!!