Weeks o' treats

Because I am a college student and one of them there dem-o-crats, I am in the midst of what I call "winter break." That is, three weeks off to engorge myself in delicious homebaked food, dodge high school peer encounters and draw thousands of requested pink castles for baby nieces.


Of course, the food is the highlight. And not only am I responsible, but I am obligated to share some of the highlights.

What Michelle digested from 12/20 - 12/31
the best of

1. peppermint bark: made by illiterate sister. White chocolate and crunched candy canes topped with dark chocolate and broken up into little pieces. Not only a delicious candy, but also an effective treatment for bunions full of puss.

2. meatballs: made by diabetic uncle. Big balls (laugh it up, 12 year olds) of ground beef in a mild barbecue sauce with a hint of Chinese symbol tattoo. I had seven.

3. macaroni and cheese: made by disillusioned aunt. We're not talking Kraft dinner here. We're talking mountains of elbow noodles smothered in Velveeta and colby cheeses. Great alone but better on twentysomething businessmen.

4. pizza hors'deurves: made by sexually-liberated cousin. Why pizza is involved in the name, I know not. This delicious snack has nothing to do with red sauce and mozzarella on handtossed dough. Spicy ground beef and cheeses baked atop mini rye bread slices shine in this snack, cute to talk about and eat. Best paired with beer or argyle socks.

5. honeybaked ham: prepared by wonderful, smart, anemic momma. One can't go wrong with ham, unless he or she is Jewish. I like it alongside mashed potatoes and Wal-Mart's California veggie mix, or inside of a bread item. The latter is what the Maori tribe of New Zealand might call a "sandwich."


I hope your food intake the past two weeks has been at least half as good as my own. And I hope you didn't know personally Gerald Ford.

Hamburger help me Ronda

Last night I got a craving for something cheesy and gooey. So I went to the “meal helper” isle of the grocery store and purchased this:

Hamburger helper microwave singles—cheesy lasagna flavor. “Meat included!”

Only one word could do this food item justice: revolting. In all seriousness, as I was microwaving this single-serving abomination, my mother thought the smell was coming from the cat’s litter box.

I’ll be honest, I got my cheesy, gooey food craving after watching an episode of Supernanny. Some troublesome toddlers were having dinner and their food looked really good, in a cheesy, gooey, unidentifiable sort of way.

The lesson I learned: If you’re craving something a toddler would eat, just ignore it. And go ingest something that a toddler doesn’t eat. Like strained peas or some scotch.