Something [excitedly] new.

“Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life.” – Confuscious

It’s been a little over six months since I up and quit my job. With the 1.5 hour daily commute, totaling my car in a snow storm and just general readiness to have a job that was semi-accessible from home, it was totally time. These past six months have harbored a spectrum of feelings I didn’t even know I had… trying to figure out this whole “being a wife” thing, exploring my next step in the corporate world, and just sort of figuring out how things work after the crazy, wonderful mess that was 2011.

Last Tuesday, I got the call. The call I’ve waited a couple of years to receive and more fervently waited these past few months. And hearing the words “We’d like to offer you the position” couldn’t have sounded better if I had dreamed them up on my own. But, there they were. There they joyously were. So, just like any school girl with a crush, I mumbled out a giddy “I accept” and went on to talk details. People, I have a job. A real job, not just a “stay at home dog mom” kind of job. There’s all kinds of opportunity and room for a good challenge – so wish me luck with a hefty “hell yeah” as I head back off into the world of black pants and blouses starting tomorrow.

 

Tomato Basil Bruschetta.

Let’s just start this off with a confession: I do not like tomatoes. Well, I don’t like raw tomatoes or big chunks of them permeating my delicious food. Which, absolutely, means that I put my spaghetti sauce through the blender and pick out the tomato chunks from my chili. There’s something about the smell/texture that really makes me want to gag. Especially the raw ones, I just cannot get into the appeal of those suckers.

With that in mind, I also don’t like being a picky eater (which I am proud to say I’ve made great progress on), so I’m always trying to find ways to like the food that have found themselves on the “yeah, not going to happen” list. Here’s where this bruschetta comes in. For starters, it’s amazeballs delicious, as in there’s a very real risk that you’ll find yourself hovering over the skillet, shoveling down toast point after toast point until mysteriously there’s nothing left to eat, let alone share. And, to my credit, it has not been put through the blender, which is a win on the de-pickifying my eating habits.

Ready for the deliciousness? Here’s what you do:

Take two tomatoes, slice ‘em up and de-seed them (essentially squeeze out all the seeds and extra liquid).

Then give ‘em the old chop — you can make these as large or small as you desire!

Then chop up two cloves of garlic (if you make more than two tomatoes, just keep in mind you’ll need one clove of garlic for each tomato).

Then, le sigh, slice up a demi-baguette (or any smallish loaf of French or Italian bread).

Lay each slice of bread out on a baking sheet and give the whole pan a little drizzle of olive oil. Then pop these guys under the broiler for a few minutes until they’re nice and golden brown.

When they come out of the oven, take a raw garlic clove and generously rub it all over — making sure each bite is covered in garlicky goodness.

Now for the star of the show – the tomatoes. Pour a tablespoon or two of olive oil into your skillet and toss in all your diced tomatoes. Let it simmer on medium for a few minutes.

You’ll notice that it’s starting to get a bit soupy, don’t panic, it’s not only normal, but it’s time to add in your chopped garlic cloves. Also, add in your salt and peppa’ for a bit of extra flavor!

Keep simmering the tomatoes and garlic until it starts to firm up, and when you move your spoon around, you should be able to see the bottom of the pan.

Here’s where it gets good. Take one of your pieces of toasty bread, slather on some tomato-y goodness, sprinkle with  fresh chopped basil and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar… and enjoy the heaven that is about to enter your mouth. Holy yum.

Tomato Basil Bruschetta

Serves: 3-4 as an appetizer

Ingredients:

2 large tomatoes

3 garlic cloves

1 demi-baguette

2 T olive oil (plus more for drizzling the bread)

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. pepper

basil (optional)

balsamic vinegar (optional)

Directions:

1.) Pre-heat your broiler.

2.) Wash your tomatoes, then slice and de-seed them (squeeze out all the extra seeds and juice). Once the tomatoes are de-seeded, dice each slice into small pieces.

3.) Peel your garlic cloves and mince them (or push them through the garlic press, if you prefer).

4.) Take your demi-baguette and slice it in 1/4 inch slices and arrange them on a large baking sheet. Drizzle each slice of bread, lightly, with olive oil.

5.) Pop your bread into the oven and keep avery close eye on it because it goes from crispy to burnt very quickly.

6.) Once the bread has crisped up and taken on a golden color, pull them out of the oven. Take your third, garlic clove and generously rub it all over the surface of each slice of bread. The bread is officially done!

7.) Grab a skillet and set the heat to medium, add 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan. Once the olive oil is warm add your tomatoes. After a minute or two add in the two, minced garlic cloves as well as the salt and pepper. The tomatoes will look very wet and soupy — this is totally normal.

8.) Continue cooking the tomatoes on medium for about 10 minutes or until the tomatoes begin to condense and take on a much thicker appearance.

9.) To assemble: take a piece of toasted bread, slather it with the garlicky-tomato mixture, top each slice with chopped basil and a drizzle of balsamic vinegar.

10.) Enjoy, and be ready for this to be requested at each and every potluck you attend in the future.

Slippin’ & a sliddin’.

A couple of weeks ago I took my first yoga class.

Now, I know that I’m about 10 years behind the whole yoga pants and Namaste party, but I say ‘better late than never’. For starters, let’s talk about how the room was only 80 degrees.  It seemed that for everyone else in the class that was a perfectly acceptable temperature… but for me, it meant that I looked like I just hopped out of a pool by the end of the 75 minute class. How gross is that? Let me assure you that it was very gross. To make it even more sexy, all that sweat wandered down to my cheapo Target mat meaning that my downward dog looked a little more like a 10-year-old fighting with a Slip n’ Slide. Plank? Sure, no… woosh face plant.

In an effort to one up my level of disgusting, I took a little trip to Vail the next weekend to visit one of my friend Jacqui. It turns out that Jacqui just completed her yoga teacher training this spring. Did I say yoga, I meant hot yoga. As in intentionally inflicting suffering upon herself. So, obviously, I invite myself to the class she teaches on Friday nights because why the hell not?

I made it up to Vail in a little over two hours and reapplied some deodorant before heading into the studio. You have to figure if it got ugly at 80 degrees, one cannot have too much deodorant in preparation of 90 minutes in 105 degrees? Am I right, or am I right? I stepped through the door and immediately the office was about a bazillion degrees hotter than it was outside… as in your skin starts to pinken up after about 30 seconds and that deodorant starts to get it’s first real test in durability.

There isn’t any way to mentally prepare yourself for the wave of smoldering air that hits your face as you step into the classroom. There also isn’t any way to mentally prepare yourself for the ways your body will contort while being repeatedly slapped in the face with ridiculous blasts of heat. At the end of the standing series I was fairly certain I would fall down, die and never again feel the cool relief of normal temperature air on my face. Luckily I was greeted by the mat (or whatever you call it) series and I thought there at least was some hope left in this world… but alas, when you’re contorted awkwardly, half upside down, that really sexy sweat finds it’s way into your nose and ears. Nothing like wet ears and a stinging sweat drenched nose to add fun to the experience.

I am proud to say that I made it through without passing out, throwing up or crying (though who would be able to tell with all the sweat?). The verdict is still out on the hot versions (I’d try it again – only making sure I find my way into a dri-fit bra beforehand), but this yoga business has got something to it. I’m in.

P.S. Have your ever had your forearms sweat? Yeah, me neither… er, until the other day. Turns out in a 105 degree room there really isn’t any body part free from sweatsville.