January 11, 2011

Roasted Potato & Onion Soup

It's soup weather here in the deep South. Friends, that doesn't happen very often. I took full advantage of that tonight and whipped up some potato soup. Regretfully, I didn't take any pictures because my camera was all the way out in my car, 20 long feet away. Yeah, I'm lazy. But just try to picture it in your mind. I mean, you know what potatoes look like, don't you? Good. Then picture potatoes.

Cut about 5 medium sized potatoes in half lengthwise. Then cut them again lengthwise so that each long strip looks like a triangle. Ok, I really should've taken pictures. Did that make any sense? Basically, just cut the potatoes to create wedges. Not thick wedges, just normal sized wedges. No! Not wedgies! WEDGES! Come on!

Once you've got the wedgies all cut up, spread them out on a baking sheet or roasting pan that's been thoroughly sprayed with Pam or olive oil.

Next, cut an onion in half and cut one half into wedges. Or wedgies. Whichever you prefer. (Also, go ahead and dice the other half of the onion.) Toss the onion wedges on the baking sheet along with the potatoes. Spray all of the wedgies generously with more Pam or olive oil. I used my Misto but Pam works fine too. Sprinkle some salt, pepper, and garlic powder on top and stick them in a 450 degree oven for about 35-45 minutes.

Now go watch an episode of the Office, or wash your panties, or eat icecream, or replace your air filters, or drop the kids off at the pool (good lord, who am i? SHAMELESS, that's who.) About 30 minutes into baking the wedgies, saute the diced onion in a tablespoon or two of butter (I use Smart Balane Olive Oil) and sweat the onions for a few minutes. Add in a tablespoon of minced garlic, but make sure your heat isn't too high (needs to be medium) because you don't want your garlic to burn. Hot. Mess.

It's probably time to pick your wedgie...........s up out of the oven. Just let them cool for a sec.

Here's where you can get creative. I added some mini turkey pepperoni to my sauteed onions and garlic, but I bet bacon would be better. Or pancetta. Mmmmm. But all I had was half a bag of mini turkey pepperoni that I bought because it was so gyot dang cute. So I threw it in. And know what? It was delicious. But if you have bacon, you should use bacon.

Throw in another spoonful of butter and a handful of flour to the sauteed pan of goodness. The flour will help thicken the soup and will marry all that goodness that's in the pan together. You could also use a packet of ranch dressing mix that I bet would be slammin', but I ain't had none of that, so I just used flour. Let that keep sauteeing on medium-low heat.

Now spoon about 3/4 of your pan of wedgies into a food processor. Blend until smooth.

While your wedgies are pureeing, add a can of cream of mushroom soup into the pan with your sauteed junk. Add a little bit of milk.

Your wedgies should be smooth by now. Add the smooth wedgies to the pan and whisk together with the milk and cream of mushroom soup. Add more milk as needed.

Now take the reserved amount of roasted wedgies and add to the soup to make it a little chunky. Taste it to see if it needs some salt. It shouldn't need much since you put salt on the roasted wedgies. I added a little hot sauce too but that's only because I like things spicy. Just ask Mark. I bet a dollop of sour cream or some chives would be awesome. But I ain't had none of that so I added some cheese. It was slammin'.

Make this when your insides are cold. Make this when it's dreary outside. Make this if you have a wedgie. You'll be able to identify. Just make it, okay? I'm going to get another bowl...

January 9, 2011

The Proposal (Only with less Ryan Reynolds and more PeyPey)

The day was Sunday, November 28. The week of Thanksgiving had passed by in a blur of cornbread dressing and pecan pie. No really, I'm pretty sure I ate 18 pounds of dressing. Dressing or stuffing? My mom's always done dressing. That's the stuff with the wet cornbread and celery and magic in it. Delicious, delicious magic. Ahem. Where was I? The Sunday after Thanksgiving when Mark had to head back to school out of town had rolled around. Mark and I had had good times together with family and friends during the week but the reality of him leaving town had set in and I was kind of sad. I couldn't help letting my mind go to the location where it entertains the fantasies of being Mark's wife and spending the holidays as a family, not just as boyfriend and girlfriend.

That Sunday, my friends, will not only be the Sunday when those fantasies became tangible, but it will also be The Sunday Mark Saw My Dad In His Whitey-Tighties.

Mark woke up that morning knowing that he would soon ask me to be his wife, but he had a mission to complete first. That mission? To ask my dad, Ricky, for permission to marry me. Early that Sunday, Mark headed over to my parents house, hoping to find Ricky and find the permission he sought.

He arrived at their house to find my mom and brother and sister already gone to church. Knowing that my dad prefers to individually, instead of collectively and with a congregation, worship God, Mark knocked on the door expecting a quick answer. A few minutes later, after no answer, Mark went down the mental checklist of other things (well, honestly the ONLY other thing) my dad worships (coffee) and headed to the Waffle House. After doing a quick walk-around and finding no Ricky, Mark thought, "well, maybe he's an IHOP man." Um, no. I don't think my dad even knows that IHOP's exist. He's committed. He's committed to the Awful Waffle.

No Rickey at IHOP.

Mark was getting desperate. He wanted to ask me that day but really wanted my dad's permission first. He decided his best bet was to head back to the house and wait for him there.

Back at my parents, Mark decided to knock on the door again, just in case. After several knocks, he finally hears a "Hello? Hello? Come on in." Mark turned the knob then heard, "Come on in, I'm in the den." Confident and happy, Mark headed towards the sound of my dad's voice.

He swung the door to the den open and saw a sight I'm sure he never imagined, in his whole life, that he would see. My dad was standing there in just his whitey-tighties, reaching for his jeans, saying, "Man, I'm glad you banged on the door because I fell asleep in the bathtub. Your knocks woke me up!"

Yeah, that really happened.

After that awkward encounter and with permission having been granted, Mark took me to Dowdell's Knob, a place in Pine Mountain, GA, where five years earlier, Mark had asked me to be his girlfriend. He got down on one knee, told me he could never imagine his life without me, and asked me to be his wife.

It was perfect. And awesome. And so sweet. And we're getting married this May!
For the second, pretty much unrelated portion of this post, you'll have to email me at


Please sign the consent form stating that you will never sue me for slander, libel, or defamation of character.
You're pretty freaking intrigued now, aren't you?