Stay Classy, San Diego.

So, here's a funny story.  A month or so ago, I got this email from BlogHer saying that they were doing this promotion with Knorr and asking if I'd be interested in getting some chicken stock samples and making up a recipe using the stock.  Sure, why not?  Hell, we use chicken stock all the time, and worst case scenerio, I have some extra, right?

The recipe was supposed to be entered in this contest with like 200 recipes and then 8 finalists would win a trip to San Diego, where they'd then have some kind of cook-off competition thing and then maybe be selected to represent Knorr in other promotional stuff.  When I told Matt about the whole thing, he said, "Sounds like you're a little out of your league here."  I agreed, but decided that it would be fun to give it a shot.

And so I signed up, got the samples in the mail and was then kind of conflicted about what to make. I decided that it should be simple, basic, and accessible, you know, like a recipe that could go on the package or something.  This was not, I thought, a time to show off my culinary prowess (plus, who really wants to eat chicken stock ice cream, anyway?)  After some hemming and hawing, I decided to make spicy pork carnitas.  So I made them, and here's what they looked like.

But for some reason I wasn't over the moon for the recipe, and I was a little reluctant to submit it.  As the deadline was fast approaching and I was filling my days with other things like Fourth of July festivities and elliptical injuries and general slothfulness, I decided to just go ahead and submit it to fulfill my end of the bargain.

And then a couple of days ago I got an email saying that I am one of the eight finalists and that I'm going to San Diego for the BlogHer conference in a couple of weeks!  Shoot yeah!  I'm still a little bit in shock, and a lot excited, and totally looking forward to visiting the San Diego Zoo.  I'm nervous, too, because I can kind of clam up in situations where I'm expected to perform or to be charming or to meet new people.  But that's what wine's for, right?

And I've totally sized up my competition, and Matt was right--I'm totally out of my league.  But that's cool, because I have a free trip to California and I'm going to meet this guy.

[source]

Oh, and I guess I should share that recipe with you, too, huh?

Here goes it.

Spicy Pork Carnitas

1 ½-2 pounds pork tenderloin

2 tablespoons olive oil

½ teaspoon crushed red pepper

1 teaspoon kosher salt

½ teaspoon black pepper

1 small onion, chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 jalapeno, minced (with seeds for more spice, without for less)

1 lime, cut into quarter wedges

3 ½ cups Knorr chicken stock, made from concentrate

Directions

1. Rub pork tenderloin on all sides with salt, pepper, and crushed red pepper.  Heat olive oil in dutch oven on medium-high.  Brown meat on all sides in dutch oven, then remove.
2. Add onion and cook for three minutes.  Add jalapeno and garlic and cook for another two minutes, or until onion is translucent. 
3. Add Knorr chicken stock to pan, bring to a simmer.
4. Meanwhile, nestle lime wedges into the pork.  Return pork to pan and cover.  Cook on medium-low heat for 90 minutes.
5. When the pork is tender enough, shred with two forks. 

Serve on tortillas with sour cream, shredded lettuce, cheese, and avocado.

Three cheers for zoo fun!  And carnitas!  And all expense paid trips to San Diego!  

Living Room Novella, and Some Cheap Art

Okay, so I had grand plans to paint the living room yellow.  The living room project included about one bajillion small little jobs, most of which were kind of grueling and miserable (spackling and painting a ceiling is a job for masochists), so even though I'd been planning on painting the room since the moment I finished painting the kitchen (in SEPTEMBER!), it took a long while for me to muster up the energy to tackle the project, and to finally select a yellow color for the room.

This is going to sound weird and George W. Bushian, but when I'm looking for something, whether it's a pair of shoes or a new camera or a husband, when I find the one I want I just know.  It's this weird inner assurance, kind of like a little click inside of me that is like, "Oh, there it is."  For example, I hunted and read reviews and stressed about which new camera to select, and then when Hugh showed me the white Pentax Kx, I was all, "Oh, that's my camera."  And there was no more looking. Once I have that realization, I don't go back.

And the problem with the painting living room yellow plan for me, and probably part of why I put the whole thing off for so long, was that I just didn't have that "There you are, Peter" feeling with it.  Once school was out I soldiered on, though, started painting my trim, and selected my yellow color, Custard by my friend Martha.

I painted a little swatch of it on the wall, decided that it was good, and kept painting trim.  I was trying to envision a more grown-up looking room, since there's no place in our house that looks like grown-ups live here.  I was going to do yellow accented with gray and black--you know, something more subtle, more sophisticated.

But the problem with that plan, and the reason I didn't have that inner click about it, was probably that I am neither subtle nor sophisticated.  And Matt doesn't care because he's colorblind and even if he wasn't he wouldn't care.

So when Cassie was here last week, she threw out a suggestion that I should paint the walls ultra white with lots of brightly-colored accents.

Oh, there it was.  The click.  Bangarang!

Now, this plan was kind of terrifying to me.  All that work just to paint walls white?  Shoot.  Plus, the room was white to begin with.  Well, not really white so much as an off-white-smoker's-paradise-dingy-used-to-be-white grossness.

Painting walls white was actually about the most bold thing for me to do in a room.

So, anyway, that's the inspiration for the living room.  And if you're reading this (still!? not so much into the brevity today, huh?) and you're asking yourself if I just do everything that Hugh and Cassie suggest, well, I would say, "Not everything."  Just like 90%.  What can I say?  They make good suggestions.

Now, I'm not showing you everything just yet because the finishing touches are not yet complete.  BUT!  You get a fun preview.  I just couldn't do everything white, so I painted our little entryway/alcove/foyer the same blue color that I painted the kitchen.  (Because I totes had leftover paint and I am more obsessed with this color than I was with hunter green in 1995.)

And then the space totally needed some art.

Well, about four years ago I bought these pictures at Target because I got all four for $15, and although I didn't love the pictures, I figured I could use the frames.  Four years ago.

Cris, post-wrist-surgery, posing with ugly cheap Target art.

Then I had an idea.  I really want to point out that this was actually my very own idea and that I didn't steal it from anybody.  I steal like 99% of stuff I do from other people, so I'm really proud to have come up with something on my own.  

And it was quite simple.  Cheap frames.  Free downloaded fonts.  Some M's.  An exacto knife.  Yep.  That's about it.

Look how fun!

But is it as fun as our mail slot?

Kind of in love with this room now.  More to come.

Shoe Messages

I need these, don't I?  They're all, "I'm your teacher.  Sit down.  Do your work.  Learn.  I wear tough shoes.  My shoes might as well be combat boots."

Or do I need these?

You know, sensible teacher shoes that say, "I'm sassy and fun, and I get pedicures.  But, seriously, sit down and do your work.  You're driving me BANANAS!"

That's fun. But so are these.

These are fantastic!  "Hi, I'm your new English teacher, but I moonlight as a prostitue."**  Plus, I could wear them with a suit, or with booty shorts. 

I think we've found a winner.  What do you think?

**For the record, I do not moonlight as a prostitute.  That was a joke, Grandma.

Hookin'

Since today was a furlough day, I was bound and determined not to do anything school-related*.  Instead, I slept until 11:30, did some productive household stuff, went to the post office to see my post office boyfriend Byron (and also to mail a couple of packages), lunched with Matt, napped in the sun at Forsyth, read Cook's Illustrated, met up with Collin, got some gelato, and relaxed in the new and improved Ellis Square. 

It was just one of those perfect days (if only the day hadn't cost me a couple of hundred dollars!).  The azaleas were out of control beautiful. There were tourists and kids and parents and old people.  There were old tourists.  Everyone was happy, smiling, enjoying the glory that is Savannah in the springtime. 

And there were prostitutes.  Whaaaaaaaaaaa?

Yeah, as I inhaled my gelato on a waffle cone, I looked over to see this:

Good thing I had my camera.

And she wasn't done.  (Unfortunately, I was laughing too hard to get the ones where she completely arched her back, in what may have been the sexiest, uh, I mean, trashiest, pose of all time.)

Bitch had some guy taking pervy pictures of her in the middle of the square on a Monday afternoon!  I can hear the carriage tour guides now: "To the left you'll see Ellis Square.  Just a few short years ago this was a parking lot. . .and that. . .well, that's a vagina."  Real classy, prostitute girl.

But a few of the tourists didn't seem to mind.

How was your Monday?  Do any modeling?

*Also, I'm crazy efficient when I'm at school, and turned my grades in on Friday afternoon when they weren't even due until Tuesday morning.