Recipe: Toaster Oven Pizza Quiche Souffle

 This recipe is wonderful. It's quick, easy, and doesn't make a mess or heat up the kitchen.

Ooh, look at all this tasty cream. The next time I take a photo like this, I'm totally going to make two egg yolk eyes staring eerily out from the bowl.

Is this 'The World's Greatest Toaster Oven'? You betcha! It's also a convection oven.

Kinda sorta fancy, right?

Sexy Nerd does not like quiche. Pica does though.

Yeah right. Whatever, Sexy Nerd!
By the way, this might be the longest that Pica has ever stood still!

Toaster Oven Pizza Quiche Souffle (adapted from Orangette, who is awesome)
(Serves 3 regular people or 1 Sexy Nerd)

1. Grease a toaster oven-sized pan
2. Whisk 1/2C + 1/8C cream with 2 eggs. Add a pinch each of salt, chili powder, and nutmeg.
3. Add 1 1/2 tsp. of flour.
4. Set your toaster oven to 350F
5. In your toaster oven pan, put a layer of pepperoni, then a layer of shredded cheddar and mozzerella cheese, followed by just a few more pepperoni. Pour the cream/egg mixture on top, coating the pepperoni and cheese as thoroughly as possible. Throw a few pieces of cooked asparagus on top if you're trying to be fancy, (we had some leftover pieces from last night's dinner.) Some diced onion and/or bell pepper would be good too.
6. Cook it. In my toaster over, this was ready in about 10 minutes.

My Awkward Family Photo

Have you checked out I was hooked on it, but have completely gotten over my addiction. Technically, that's because on Sunday I looked through every single photo on the site and nothing is new to me anymore, but the important thing is that I got it out of my system.

While looking for an old prom photo for this post, I came across a photo that would fit in perfectly on the Awkward Family site. It's from high school, when my family went to Disney World. I was enchanted by all the Disney magic, but it wasn't getting through to my dad and younger brother.

Sometimes, I wonder if I may have been switched with another baby at birth. That girl is off enjoying life with what should rightfully be my cheerful, sane family. She's probably raining on their parade! Then, I see a photo like this, and I'm sure of it.

Yes, dad, we are from New Mexico. And try not to look too excited, Michael!

Sadly, this is just 1 awkward family photo of many.

Homemade Samoas (aka Caramel Delights) Girl Scout Cookies

Here is what they are supposed to look like:

Here's mine:

As mentioned previously, I am not a patient cook. Therefore, mine look like this. Instead of waiting for everything to cool and carefully drizzling chocolate on top, I decided to simply combine the coconut, chocolate, and caramel into one tasty topping. It may not be as pretty, but it tastes good (and this was ready to eat much faster!)

Hey, Kitchen Pig! That's not for you!

Sorry, but Kitchen Pig's second cousin is this guy. See the resemblance? I don't want to take any risks by letting him eat so close to midnight!

There is a comment from someone who made the original (pretty) recipe, complaining that these cookie bars are too messy. For that poster, I photographed the above and below post-cooking images.

Ooooooh, so messy! Whatever will I do?!

You can find the original recipe here. Thanks BakingBites!

Mom Sexy Prom 2010

With a name like "Mom Sexy Prom 2010", (this link, to another prom goer, is one of my favorites) how could I resist? What's that, you say? I'm not allowed to play because I'm not a mom? Just who in the heck do you think you are, coming over to my blog and talking to me that way! I'll have you know that I have 2 beautiful babies:

The Pica (drugged out of her little mind here)

The Biscuit (so pretty!)

Still not convinced? Well, then I guess you'll just have to call me a party crasher! How convenient that I have such fancy flowers for my prom photo (HA!)

See the Pica bone in the background? I think that qualifies me for Mom Prom right there!

Who will be my date to Mom Prom? I pulled out an old photo from my senior prom for inspiration:

Clearly, I would not be going with that dirt bag again (don't even get me started!) Instead, I choose Seth MacFarlane:

 I know he's a womanizer, but I don't care. We look adorable together!
Also, my Photoshop skills need some serious work.

Really, the most appropriate choice would have been my Sexy Nerd. By the time this occurred to me though, I'd already taken the time to edit the photo. Sorry sweetie! To be fair, Sexy Nerd would probably prefer not to go to Mom Prom because I'd make him dance.

And, for those of you who are wondering, I still don't know who my romantic/CREEPY flower sender is. I did save whoever it was some money by having the charge for the bear refunded though - cheapest stalker target ever! In all honesty, it's probably the same jerk I crossed out of the photo above. I prefer to think that it's someone who read my blog and fell in love with me after seeing my super sexy photos in this post.

No wonder I'm attracting weirdos!

A Flower Delivery MYSTERY

Sexy Nerd and I came home from a day of running errands on Saturday to discover an odd message on my phone. It was a girl from a flower shop calling to confirm my address for a delivery. I called and said there must be a mistake, as I wasn't expecting any flowers, to which she pointed out that people don't usually expect flowers. Oh, of course. As nice as it would be to have someone send me flowers, it seemed unlikely. Sure enough, she was unable to find any orders for me when I gave my name. She did have a Danielle though, and asked if there might be a different last name. I told her my maiden name. There really were flowers waiting for me! She confirmed the delivery address - the rental house Sexy Nerd and I lived in 3 years ago. I updated my address and ended the call, anxiously waiting to see who would send me flowers.

Strange? I had no idea how strange! Here is the message that came with the flowers:

So who would send me, a married woman who has been with my Sexy Nerd for over 6 years, a message like that? The delivery was anonymous! I called the florist back right away to get the sender's name.

They didn't know either! I asked if it was just a generic message that the sender had selected from a list and they said no, the sender had written it specifically. They said the order was placed online through FTD and to contact them. I did and they won't reveal the identity of the sender without his (or her!) permission. They called the number given for the order and no one answered. They emailed them and are currently waiting for a response.

All I could do was wait, right? Pfft! I called back again and spoke to someone else, feeding them a story about how I just had a baby and got lots and lots of flowers delivered and put all the little cards aside so I could write my thank you notes, but in all the chaos I misplaced the notes and could I please get the sender's name???

Nope. They called the sender again. No answer. 

Sexy Nerd, who absolutely did not send these and who is not happy about any of this, is convinced that the flowers were sent to me by mistake. He was even less happy when the 2nd FTD representative told me it was a "New Dream Bouquet with Bear". There was supposed to be a bear too?! Not that any of this matters, of course. Prince William could have sent these to me and I still wouldn't think for a second of leaving my Sexy Nerd. But still...I have it narrowed down to 3 possibilities...maybe 4 if I really stretch my options...I really want to know who sent them! The suspense is killing me!

Does anyone out there know how to get those stubborn punks at FTD to reveal the name of the sender?

Best Job Ever?

My super awesome boss surprised each employee with their very own cheesecake. Isn't she just the best?

Considering that I've never really liked cheesecake, (I know, I know...) I wasn't sure I would like this. However, since there is just a teeny tiny bit of cheesecake sandwiched between chocolate fudge cake, chocolate ganache, and chocolate mousse, I was able to choke it down.

(yum, yum, yum, yum, yum)
(and only a little over 80% of your daily allowance of saturated fat per slice!)

My friend Jedica says that my boss is being crafty (i.e. she'll buy everyone a $5 bottle of wine and suddenly they forget all about the complete lack of benefits).
Whatever, Jedica! Sexy Nerd's job provides health care. How many people can say theirs provides cheesecake?

He's Not The Nurturing Type

Sexy Nerd and I have been together more than 6 years, during which we've learned each of us has our own wacky traits that irk the other (though I must insist that mine are nothing compared to his!) One of my pet peeves is that he's the kind of person who goes into the kitchen at lunch time, makes himself a sandwich, and eats it right in front of you, without the thought of asking if you would also like a sandwich ever crossing his mind. I've nicely (and maybe occasionally ever so slightly less than nicely) tried to train remind Sexy Nerd that this behavior borders on selfish cruel lazy being a huge,smelly jerk not very nice and he has slowly made improvements. At least, I thought he'd been improving.

This morning, Sexy Nerd announced he would be smoking a chicken for dinner. He brined it and put it inside the smoker. The house was filled with the tasty smell of hickory for several hours. When it would be done smoking was a complete mystery (and source of a "Sexy Nerd Quote Of The Day"). I made us a pitcher of iced tea and imagined us enjoying our chicken out on the patio, listening to the birds and soaking up the spring sunshine. Around 5:30pm, I was reading a magazine in my office and had just torn out an article on beer brewing to give to you know who, (as I am the nurturing type) when Sexy Nerd walked in. I told him that the chicken smells great and was wondering if it's almost done, to which he replied:

"'s been done."

In response to the puzzled look I must have had, he elaborated:

"It was good. If you want to go get some, I put the rest in the fridge."

Sexy Nerd cooking up a storm (with vodka?!) in an old rental house photo. It really doesn't matter what he was making, because no one else was going to get any.

Time to Redo the Guest Bedroom

My office is in desperate need of a makeover. Although we pulled up the dingy, gray-blue carpet from most of our house when we moved in, the gross carpet is still in my office! Keeping it company is an old garden tub, glass shower doors, and other dusty reminders of our master bathroom remodel. The thing I hate most of all? My office window looks out onto a street corner where drivers ALWAYS run the stop sign, leaving me yelling at them in my pajamas when I really should be working! Solution? Take over the guest bedroom, which has no view whatsoever of that damn stop sign. Really, it has no view whatsoever of anything, but I'm okay with that. What does this mean? In addition to fancying up my ugly, ugly office, I get to redo the guest bedroom! I've been browsing around and have found a few fun products. Isn't online shopping fun? I love this sofa, which could be used instead of a bed at night and could be a comfy place to watch TV during the day (and it's only $249 with free delivery AND good reviews! Can you believe that??)


Would our guests appreciate having their own super-cute fireplace? Based on how cheap frugal we are when it comes to heating our house in the winter, methinks they would.

I'm optimistic that even the occasional, insanely rowdy/drunk/running-around-my-house-naked-and-sleeping-with-my-ex-boyfriend-while-I'm-in-the-next-room (you know who you are!) guest will not be able to set anything on fire with this

*Update: After posting this, I kept browsing on and came across this cool fountain. It wouldn't be right in a guest room, of course, but I love it anyway! Perhaps a patio makeover is on the horizon?

Maybe a better name for this post would have been something along the lines of Currently Obsessed with Fire

Guest Post: I'm Too Sexy For My Black Lycra Gown

Today's nifty LambAround post was provided by Kristy from Pampers and Pinot. She is one funny gal (don't believe me? Look at her cross-eyed, tongue out photo on her blog!) I had some swimsuit anxiety myself a few summers ago, which resulted in me buying a ridiculously overpriced swimsuit from Victoria's Secret. I figured that if there was anyone who could make me look good in a swimsuit, they could (Nope, just a big RIP OFF! Damn you, Victoria's Secret.)

Thank you to LambAround for allowing me to guest blog on her site! I recently discovered LambAround and was instantly drawn in by her originality and witty sense of humor. Besides, who wouldn’t be instantly intrigued by reading about adventures with Sexy Nerd?

I am Kristy from Pampers and Pinot. I started blogging in January and have had a blast “meeting” people and following my passion – writing! I believe that there is absolutely no better way to spend your time than by laughing (and drinking wine). I believe that mothers need to connect with each other and be fearlessly honest about the ups and downs of motherhood. I believe that Supermom is a Myth and the more we dispel that myth, the more comfortable we’ll be in our own skin, mothering from our own hearts.

I am Mama to Parker, who just turned two years old. Me and Parker, we’re like peas and carrots. If you know me already, you have also read that Parker has other names as well, like my bub, maniac, and angel boy.

Well, I think that is really all the intro you need! I chose to share with you one of my earlier posts that deals with the gifts our children give us (20 extra pounds) and reminds us of the more important things in life. . .

I’m Too Sexy for my Black Lycra Gown

For crying out loud, people, why can’t it be normal to wear gowns as a swimming suit? And if this can’t be normal, then why can’t cellulite and varicose veins be considered beautiful? You may ask, “Why is Kristy ranting so?”

Well, you guessed it.

I did a little swim suit shopping today.

Well, I did a little swim suit shopping in my own home. I ordered a variety of one-pieces with new “magic” sucking-in technology, some with skirts attached, some with detachable skirts, some with sashes and things that can serve a variety of functions (the primary function being DISTRACTION from above-mentioned cellulite, veins, and bulgy things).

I did end up choosing one that caused the least amount of psychotic babble. I sounded like my son, repeating over and over, “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, dear.”

There is a bit of relief in at least having the damn thing chosen. Now the only step left is to buy a few bottles of self-tanner and wonder just how much I can slather on to make a difference in the appearance of my pasty legs.

You may ask, “Why is Kristy so worried about this in February in Colorado with snow on the ground?”
Well, Spring Break is coming, and no, I am not going to do what I secretly and guiltily picture myself doing sometimes (dancing on the beach, too drunk to care what I look like, and being wildly excited that “Shoop” by Salt N Pepa just came on. I can here you now, ladies! “Here I go, here I go, here I go again! What’s my weakness? Men!”).

I digress.

My family’s plan for Spring Break is visiting the extended fam in Phoenix, and of course, spending some time at the pool. And here’s the thing, in spite of the body and swim suit issues, I am really, truly looking forward to taking my son to the pool. Parker loves the water. It will be great to see his little two year old face light up when he goes to the pool for the first time again since last summer. I’ll be damned if I let my own insecurities get in the way of having fun with my child. I’ll be the one at the pool, in a black Lycra gown, holding my precious two year old. I’ll have a big silly grin on my face, living it up, and enjoying the best things in life. It took me many years and one child to realize that the BEST things in life are not tanned, toned thighs and a flat stomach. The best things in life are the people you love and who love you (cellulite and all).

Why You Shouldn't Feed Your (BAD) Dogs Scraps

Go away! Shoo!

This is our dinner! Not Pica's dinner! Not Biscuit's dinner! OUR DINNER!
Move it, punks!

One day, after Sexy Nerd & I have tripped over one of the dogs and fallen down the stairs to our deaths, people will look back at this post. They'll see the way the dogs have us surrounded; the way Biscuit is silently lurking behind Sexy Nerd, anxiously waiting for him to take an unsteady step backward, to his doom.

Avenge us.

Who Wants Pretty Skin? I Do! I Do!

Unlike other women, who all seem to have glowing, perfect, silky smooth skin, my skin HATES me. It doesn't matter that I spend an absurd amount of money on fancy schmancy creams - apparently, they only work on those other, radiant skin people, who I assume are the ones writing all those bogus cream reviews that make me throw away my money.

Luckily, I have found a cheap, easy (and surprisingly tasty!) solution, courtesy of the brilliant "Sarah Woo" here. All you have to do to make her recommended facial mask is mix 1 Tbsp honey, 1 tsp cinnamon, 1 tsp nutmeg, and 1/2 a tsp of lemon juice. The longer you leave it on, the better. I try to aim for at least 30 minutes each time. No need to exfoliate first, as the nutmeg in the mask even takes care of that for you. I am completely in love with this and have been using it once a week for the past few months.

Pica, on the other hand, isn't a fan.

No pity here! Who else agrees that Pica deserves to be a little freaked out after what she did to that little girl?

Guest Post: Road Trip...To The Psychiatrist

In keeping with the spirit of this post, let me tell you that it's 4:57am here in Albuquerque and I'm awake browsing through blogs. Heather at The Spohrs are Multiplying just cracked me up with this post. Read it and smile.

A special thank you to Shinxy at Vacuous Ramblings for providing a guest post for LambAround today. I love the drawings she does for each of her posts. The drawing below is titled No Shoes.

Without further ado, here is the one and only Shinxy:

Yes people, this is as exciting as my life gets. I got to spend eight or nine hours in the car to see my psychiatrist.

We got into Melbourne an hour and a half early, so we went shopping. Sadly I couldn't spend much money because I've spent about half my pay this cycle on a certain jobless hobo of mine. I went to Borders first. I finally found the Philosophy section. It was lookiing pretty grim until I looked at the bottom shelf. Three Schopenhauer books! I was in pessimistic heaven. I found four books in total that I felt that I needed, but like I said, I had a budget. I decided on one Schopenhauer book and another on common logical fallacies (I love logic, but if I get too far in I get a little confused with all the latin terms, so basic to moderate logic suits me fine).

I had a shoe problem by the middle of my shopping journey. The problem was, the insides were velvety and I had sweaty feet. This led to one 4x2cm blister on each big toe, and a blister on the entire ball of my foot on both feet. These weren't your grandma's blisters, people. These were multiple layers thick blisters. Turboblisters. So by the time I got to the psychiatrist, I was shoeless. My logic was 'I'm a crazy lady, I don't have to wear shoes to the psychiatrist!'

So, I wandered in like a drunk woman at 3am on a Sunday. Nobody batted an eyelid. Except my psychiatrist.

I'm going on more meds. He told me I'd be taking a red one in the morning and the evening. I then told him about my love of the cute (relatively) little pink ones. So he said I could take one red one at night and two pink ones in the morning, since it would be the same dose. He also suggested that I take two pink ones instead of the red one in the evening so all my tablets would be pink, but I told him that was just silly.

I hadn't hallucinated all day (that I'd known of) but then I was hit by a trio - tasting soap, feeling something in my throat, and another one which I'd rather not discuss. So that was great.

Also, here is some sage advice for you all: do not leave your salad with feta cheese in the hot car for 45 minutes and then eat it.

Looking awfully happy for a girl whose feet are covered in blisters, Miss Shinxy
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