Mandy's Famous Bubble Gum Ice Cream

I'm not allowed to have bubble gum in the house.

This rule dates back to my childhood, when I would shove as many pieces as I could into my mouth and chew the giant wad, only to spit it out minutes later when the flavor began to leave.  I would repeat this process again and again until all of the gum was gone.  I once did this with a giant paint can of Tongue Splashers bubble gum (remember those, the ones that would "paint" the entire inside of your mouth?), and was pretty alarmed at what I discovered once digestion had taken place.  (I'll leave that one to your imagination, lest Cassie unfriend me.)

Also, I like to blow really big bubbles that pop and get in my hair and eyebrows.  It's a mess.

So, yeah, no bubble gum in this house.

Except that when you mention to your favorite 5-year old, sweet little neurotic memory-like-a-steel-trap Iris, that you're considering making some bubble gum ice cream, and that you'll make it before she moves away (and breaks your heart in the process--I'm still mad at her parents), and then every time you talk to her or see her in the interim she asks about the famed bubble gum ice cream--well, you've go no choice then but to buy a big ol' bag of bubble gum.  I actually bought two kinds: Double Bubble Bubble Gum for flavor, and some pretty colorful gumballs for beauty.

And you might think that since decades have passed since the Tongue Splashers incident of '91 that I have matured, that I'm a grown woman now, a professional, a college graduate.  Surely I would be able to resist the foolishness that is putting multiple pieces of gum into your mouth at the same time, right?  Right?

Wrong.

Shoot.

Fortunately, there was plenty of gum for me to go all Violet Beauregarde up in here AND to create some wild ice cream.

Note: this ice cream tastes like bubble gum.  It's not some lame vanilla ice cream with bubble gum pieces.  If you're a grown-up, it probably won't be your favorite.  But if you're seeking the love of a child (ew, that sounded way more gross than I intended), this might be a good way to go.  Also, do not be a pedophile.  That is gross.  Do make this ice cream for a kid's birthday party, so long as you're not on a sexual offenders list.  This note really took a turn for the worst.

Mandy's Famous Bubble Gum Ice Cream

Ingredients

2 cups half & half
2 cups whole milk
6 egg yolks
1 cup sugar
20 pieces of Double Bubble bubble gum
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract
3 drops peppermint extract (optional)
pretty colorful gumballs, cut into quarters
pink food coloring (optional)

Directions

1.  In a large saucepan, bring the half & half and the milk to a boil.  Add the bubble gum.  Boil for 3 minutes, and then cover and remove from heat.  Allow milk mixture to steep for 30 minutes.

2.  In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and the sugar.  Slowly add the milk mixture to the egg mixture, whisking all the while.

3.  Return contents to the saucepan on medium heat.  Stir constantly, scraping the bottom of the pan, until the mixture becomes thick and coats the back of a spoon.  Do not allow it to come to a boil.

4.  Once the mixture achieves desired custard-like thickness, pour it into a bowl and add the vanilla extract and peppermint extract.  You may also choose to add a few drops of pink food coloring.  Chill the mixture in refrigerator for a minimum or 4 hours.  Freeze in ice cream maker according to manufacturer's instructions.

5.  When the ice cream has churned, you may wish to freeze it further in the freezer.  Mix in the quartered gumballs.

The Lady in the Pink Is Stealing Napkins!

I know it's kind of cruel to give you an 8-minute video of David Letterman on a Monday morning when you're likely at work.  Sorry about that.  It's just that Matt and I both watched Letterman religiously when we were teenagers, and this was a clip that we both remembered vividly.  Maybe you'll remember it, too?

Here's eight minutes of what was, to thirteen-year old Mandy and fourteen-year old Matt, one of the funniest jokes ever. 



So, do you remember it?

I don't think that means what you think it means.

Today I stumbled upon this post from Pioneer Woman's early days about reading her brother's high school yearbooks, and a slight linguistic misunderstanding.  You should probably read it.  (Also, I wish Pioneer Woman was this racy still.  C'mon, Ree.  Break out the dirty stuff again!)

And her story reminded me of a "misunderstanding" from my own childhood--one that, when I realized only a few years ago what was really going on, was positively horrific.

Picture it.  Christmas 1987.  I'm at Grandma's house in Maryland with my whole [really crazy] family.  I'm six, and I'm a television addict.  (This was also the same Christmas that we were sledding down a hill and under a big wooden fence, until, of course, I lifted my head at the wrong moment and busted up my face.  This was also the same Christmas that my uncles Allen and Mark, who were four and five years older than me, would tie me up with scarves and wrap me in blankets and leave me by myself in a room with all of the lights off, and tell me to try to get out.  I managed to escape, because I was a badass.)

So everyone's there: aunts, uncles, cousins.  Even my great aunt Ellen (who had recently come out of the closet) came, and she brought her girlfriend Regina. 

At the same time there was a commercial that aired constantly on TV for a vacuum cleaner: the Regina vacuum cleaner.  There was a jingle.  It was catchy. 



And I was six, and obnoxious, and thought it was just hilarious that Regina had the same name as a vacuum.  So, for about a week, I ran through the house yelling: "Regina, Regina, the carpet cleaner!" 

And my family members would all laugh, and I assumed that they also found it hilarious that Regina shared a name with a household appliance.  And the more they laughed, the more I yelled.

I don't think that's why they were laughing.

Pot Roast

My mom wasn't so much into the cooking.  She had us, and she worked, and we were picky, and it was a big hassle.  She had a rotation of about 4 dinners that we had regularly (one of which was Kraft macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs) and two dinners that we had when company came over.  I always thought that cooking was a chore, and it would be a long time before I'd realize how awesome it is.

It was so bad, in fact, that one time I was at the grocery store with my parents when I was a kid, and I grabbed about eight cans of Campbell's chicken noodle soup and threw them in the cart, telling them that I was planning to make a pot of soup.

I did attempt to spread my culinary wings during college, when my roommates and I would cook dinner at the house, something that usually included pre-cooked chicken breasts (that were $5 a piece!), cheese, and tortilla chips.  And we were so proud!

And then when we moved to Savannah, Christina gave me a cookbook for Christmas, and it piqued my interest in cooking.  "I made this!" I'd exclaim after adding bacon to all manner of dishes.  "And it tastes good!"  It was around that time that we discovered Tums.  But it was a good first step.

In the last few years, our cooking skills have improved tremendously.  Not amazing, of course, but capable.  And we're always getting better and we're excited to try new recipes. Most of the things we make regularly, though, are incredibly simple.

I've resisted posting some of our more simple meals here because I feel like they're just common sense.  But, you know, they weren't common sense to the Mandy and Matt of three years ago, and they might not be common sense to everyone.  So we're going to bring out one of our favorite old-timey and not so good for you meals: pot roast.  (I ellipted for an hour tonight while watching the premieres of The Hills and The City, and now all I want is a big bowl of pot roast.  AN HOUR!)

There's a good chance that you already make pot roast and have a recipe that you love, but just in case, here's ours.  It's not fancy.  It's not hard.  But it is delicious.

Matt and Mandy's Favorite Pot Roast

Ingredients:

2 tablespoons olive oil
2 1/2-3 pounds chuck roast
1 cup chopped onion
3 cloves garlic, crushed
1 8 oz. can tomato sauce (we just use spaghetti sauce--seriously, not classy)
1 cup red wine (or more if you want)
Kosher salt
Black pepper
Potatoes (we usually do about 6 gold potatoes)
Baby carrots (a small bag)
Crushed red pepper to taste (we're usually pretty generous here)

Directions

1.  Heat oil in Dutch oven over medium heat.  Add beef.  Brown on all sides.  Remove roast and set on a plate or sheet of foil.

2.  Saute onions and garlic in Dutch oven until tender.  Add tomato sauce and wine.  Stir to blend.  Return beef to pot.  Add salt, pepper, and crushed red pepper.  Reduce to low heat.  Cover and simmer for 1 1/2 hours. 

3.  Add potatoes and carrots.  Cover and continue cooking for 1 hour or until vegetables are tender.

This pot roast is a little more beef stewy than others, and makes for some of the best leftovers around.

If I get started right now I can satisfy my current craving by 3 a.m. 

Do you have a favorite pot roast recipe?  What is it?

Artsy Fartsy

Man, I wish I was more artsy.  I'm not.  I'm not musical, either. (Unless you want to count my uncanny ability to predict what songs obnoxious drunk people will sing at karaoke.)

 Everything I know about art I learned in Randy Richardson's AP European History class (and he lied a lot) and an art history course at JMU taught by a guy who reminded me of Will from Will & Grace.  My art knowledge is far superior to Matt's, though, I think because he's colorblind and retarded when it comes to anything having to do with spatial relations.  It's nice to have another category that I'll be able to dominate Matt in while watching Jeopardy! (other categories that I dominate: the Bible, fashion, Olympic cities.  And he owns me in pretty much everything else.).  When in doubt, I like to guess Gauguin.

My favorite piece of art is The Thinker, only because I saw it when I was seventeen (and on assignment for previously-mentioned Randy Richardson) and went to the Baltimore Museum of Art with my mom.  When we walked into the room with The Thinker, I was in awe.  First of all, that thing's pretty big.  Second, it looks WAY more real than you would think.  I kept standing so that my face was right under his fist, looking up, getting freaked out, and then running away.  I did that about ten times, and then my mom was embarrassed and made me leave the room.

This video reminds me of that time Maureen and I and some other friends went to the National Gallery, and she made us walk all around that damned museum just to find her favorite painting, Mound of Butter.  After walking around for about two hours, we asked one of the guides where we could find it.  Oh yeah, we couldn't, because that shit was in storage.

Here's a game: how many of the paintings in this video can you identify? (artists will work, too)

Annnnnnnnnnnnd. . .GO!

U Really Got a Hold on Me

Today, during my planning, while I did everything I could to avoid grading 90 essays on how Animal Farm is a satirical allegorical fable, I was listening to my "My Girl" radio station on Pandora. Smoky Robinson's "You've Really Got a Hold on Me" came on, and, unexplicably, the only thing I could think of was Sesame Street. 

I couldn't figure out why, until I decided to Google it.  (Or Lougle it--yeah, Hot Tub Time Machine!)

Oh yeah!

Here's a blast from the past.



Sesame Street is awesome.

Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuny day. . .

Sweet Valley High--THE GAME!

Will you play with me? I have to find my boyfriend in time for the big date!

Check out those handsome boyfriends.

Bruce Patman, you're like Brandon Walsh and Dylan McKay had a baby. I sure hope I don't get sent to detention!

Has anyone seen my biking outfit? Oh, there it is!

Each player assumes the role of one of the Sweet Valley characters. I've always fancied myself a hybrid of Jessica and Elizabeth. You know, smart but fun. And, of course, a perfect size six. (By the way, the more modern Sweet Valley books describe the Wakefield girls as being a "perfect size four." That's effed up.)

Can't resist sharing these situation cards with you.

How did we ever grow up to be well-adjusted adults after playing this shit?

Jessica's a whore.

What kind of fight was this? A fist fight? Arm wrestling? Jousting? Knowing Lila, it started out with some passive aggression and ended with a screaming match. Go Enid!

Winston? Who the hell is Winston? And I'm pretty sure that if your last name is Egbert then you are automatically the nerd.

Yep. And also a pedophile, since Winston appears to be at least 45 years old.

Classic Sweet Valley situation. THIS is the reason I wanted to be a twin. What antics!

Was the rumor that Enid had an STD? How did it backfire? Is this situation related to the earlier fight over boyfriends? Does Enid have a STD? Does Lila?

At least Lila doesn't have to put back a boyfriend. She needs to get him in time for the big date!

Come to my house. We'll play some Sweet Valley board game, and then move on to Friends Scene It! I'll make cookies.