Move over Kevin Bacon

So I have this friend named Kelly.  She knows everyone.  We seriously can’t go anywhere without her having worked with/dated a cousin of/went to high school with/lived next to in college with/got her hair cut by someone at the table next to us.  Somehow she has a story that randomly relates back to everyone.  She denies it completely but the rest of us find ourselves in wonderment of it often.

Also it was her birthday the other day, which OBVIOUSLY means we threw her a semi surprise party.  She knew we were all getting together, but little did she know Milton and Bradley were on the case (what Emily and I ceremoniously dubbed ourselves after the surprise birthday Kentucky bash in February).

So we did it after work yesterday, except Kelly was the first to get off work, so we banished her to the bed.  It’s okay, Blind Boone over there had Natalie to keep her entertained.

Meanwhile the rest of us went streamer and sticker crazy.  We also had giant ‘K’ signs that we would wave and what innocently began as a chant, always somehow ended in KKK jokes. Inappropriate.

Don’t worry, Amy did get that cork out… but she lost a few lady points.  Probably some teeth too. (not a staged photo)

In addition to snacks like almonds and salsa, Natalie brought the most glorious Salad. 

Natalie’s Hoagland Ranch Salad Extraordinaire:

• Steak (homegrown, her ranch!)
• Romaine (homegrown?)
• Mozzarella
• Tomatoes (homegrown)
• Basil (homegrown)
• Balsamic and EVOO

 

Amy brought Gluten Free cupcakes for the birthday girl.  They were also vegan (say whaaaa?) they were very dense, like pound cake.  Two thumbs up.

And finally, the piece de resistance. The six degrees of Kelly Hoots game, where over the course of 3+ bottles of wine, we made her connect the dots between random individuals (found friend stalking her FB page), and miscellaneous things like ‘tacos’, ‘boobs’, ‘barfing’, and schools and places we frequent.  A hilarious game that kept getting sidetracked to stories and name calling.  It was a hoot.  Pun intended.

What a way to kick off the week! Happy Birthday amigo!

It’s hip to be square

 

Especially when you are cut into squares (okay technically this food is rectangle but the jury’s is still out on that shape’s coolness).  That’s cornbread tofu casserole. It’s future’s so bright, it’s got to wear shades. That and Emily+ Lauren + bottle of wine + clearing off the table + clumsiness = food accessories. 

Here she is being seduced by the casserole. It’s just so cool. Who can resist? (the people in this photo are real people depicting real events, minimal staging and acting was required).

So I got this recipe from healthy tipping point and have been wanting to try it for ages.  Last week’s unadventurous houseguest Bowler put the kibosh on my plans to make it.  Never fear, I tortured Emily and convinced her to try it.  Not pictured: water boarding, arm twisting, and promises to look at all 4,000 photographer proofs from her wedding.

Pumped up Corn Casserole:

• Tofu
• Cornbread Mix
• Sour Cream
• Creamed Corn
• Regular Corn
• Broccoli

I really really liked this.  I love casseroles in general. Easy, one pan, makes for great leftovers, total comfort food.  Except nearly all casseroles are super unhealthy. Lo and behold this fair recipe.  It disguises the mushy tofu texture, but is heavy on taste and protein. I was smitten.

Next time I’ll cut the pan to half the size so it doesn’t look all small and flat.  I like my casseroles like I like my men, fluffy and 9x9. That makes no sense. I know.

Emily of course had total confidence in this recipe and my abilities.  The fact that she brought back up food should in no way reflect her nervousness at tofu casserole.  Her cantaloupe prosciutto bites were inhaled by me in record speed.  Salty plus sweet. That in no way reflected my confidence at the still-baking tofu casserole. Much.

She also brought goat cheese bruschetta.  I love that her new place has fresh basil growing everywhere.  Round of applause for Emily being only two weeks into wifedom and already achieving domestic goddessness.

Goddessness should totally be a word. Aren’t you jealous you weren’t there to have tofu casserole? (sidebar: this went wonderfully the next day with tomato soup) Or at the very least wouldn’t you want to see your food wearing accessories? Or to hear Emily and I sing it’s hip to be square? I know. We’re pretty hip too. Obviously.