Fat Free Vegan

Golden Spice Pancakes from Fat Free Vegan

I’m not, but SHE is.  I’ve always loved her site.  It’s clean, gorgeous, and the pictures of her recipes are fantastic. If you haven’t tried her recipes or visited her site, I recommend you check both out.  Susan makes sure to detail the nutritional value of all her recipes, but lately she has also been including the Weight Watchers Point Value!  Yahoo!  I now have a new source for fantastic, healthy, and Weight Watcher friendly recipes, and you do, too.

A Call to Arms

I have the seen the future of the human race on the back of a Betty Crocker Oatmeal Cookie baking mix.  It doesn’t look good.

I normally don’t bake from a mix.  My compulsive, rule loving nature happily follows even the most complicated baking recipes to the letter and, for the most part, everything turns out as it should.  But several weeks ago there was a coupon, a sale, and an impulse buy that lead to a packet of cookie mix next to the tea and rice in the pantry.  With the New Year here, I can’t justify eating cookies much longer, if at all, so I decided tonight to make the cookies and be done with them.

The end of humanity as we know it won’t come from using a mix, per se.  No, the end of humanity will come because, apparently, those who use a mix don’t have two brain cells to rub between their two quickly devolving fingers.  You heat the oven to 375 degrees.  You  mix the dough.  And then?  Then the “recipe” tells you to drop the dough by rounded teaspoons onto the cookie sheets.  Fine.  But wait!  Then.  THEN!  Then you find tucked between parentheses a golden kernal of baking wisdom that only the people at Betty Crocker would know.

(For larger cookies, drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls.)

Let me repeat that in case the concept is too difficult to grasp after only one read.

(For larger cookies, drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls.)




To whom are these instructions directed?  I am having trouble imagining a person standing in their kitchen, having made Betty Crocker Oatmeal cookies from the mix, and looking disappointedly at their petite size thinking, “I just…I just…I just wish I could figure out how to make these cookies bigger.”

Is the collective population so devoid of common sense, so lacking in deductive reasoning, that they need someone at Betty Crocker to tell them to use more dough?  Are we all such lemmings that without the “go ahead” to drop dough by the tablespoons we would instead eat gumdrop-sized cookies and suffer silently?

No.  I think not.

I say we do away with these patronizing instructions in hopes of saving the human race.  I don’t want whoever it is who needs this sort of cookie direction to stick one big toe in my gene pool.  I say we eliminate such obvious instruction from the package and let them starve while they search in vain for bigger cookies.  Let them sip coffee that it too hot.  Let them eat food still frozen in the middle.  Let them burn their fingers opening bags of popcorn filled with skin blistering steam.  Let them wrangle with the law of natural selection head on.

This is not so much a call to arms as it is a plea for brains.  Now, who’s with me?

Bagged Salad

My sister-in-law makes the most phenomenal salads. It’s her “thing,” what people always ask her to bring or assume she will make. I’ve always been known for my desserts, but one day my sister-in-law generously told me all her salad making secrets. I now can hold my own with lettuce, and proudly sit at the right-hand side of her salad bowl.

Eat the Rainbow
(I’m aware my pictures are painfully small. That will change w/ the new blog. For now, please click the image to enlarge.)

Last night I made a salad for dinner. Grilled, marinated chicken, lots of fruits and vegetables, nuts, seeds, and a simple, homemade dressing (I have yet to find a bottled dressing I like). I stood there for a minute debating whether to rinse of the leaves from my salad mix before I tossed them in the bowl. I’ve learned from various sources, including the CDC, that you can rinse to refresh but not clean. No amount of dunking and diving in your sink is going to remove the vestiges of cow patty run-off water.

So that got me thinking: how many of you rinse your bagged lettuce before eating it?
I want to hear whether you do or you don’t, and because this topic is so very scintillating, feel free to post anonymously. ;)

Hi! I’m Jules.

I used to be an attorney, but it made me grumpy. Now I write about life, sweet and savory, as a wife and mother to two small boys. My knowledge of dinosaurs knows no bounds.

You can read more, including the meaning behind the name Pancakes and French Fries here. And, yes, I really am phenomenally indecisive.