Tag Archives: family

Kamping.

My family, being the most All American half Canadians you’ll ever meet, spent Labor Day weekend Kamping.

Yeah, with a K.

We stayed at a KOA? And they seem to be run by someone who really likes the letter K. We were in a Kabin. My parents? In a Kottage.

It was Klassy.

While Kamping we did lots of Kamping type things. Like bike rides
Photobucket

(That’s on the historic highway state trail that we ran on when we were in Hood River a few months back)

(The Gorge is pretty btw)
Photobucket

And wine tasting with temporary tattoos!
Photobucket

The KOA had a $2 all you can eat pancake breakfast every morning. With coffee.  It also had trains running by it all night, and a pool full of poorly supervised children! But let’s focus on the positives. Cheap carbs and caffeine.

Blackberries currently being ripe and growing all over so we picked some and added them to the ‘cakes (‘kakes?)
Photobucket
(Fun story: I rode my bike before everyone else was up in attempt to go to a spot by Charburger where I’d found amazing berries the day before. I found a homeless man sleeping standing up, propped up by a stump in my way. Awkward.)

(and I saw him move, so he wasn’t dead.)

But the real highlight of Kamping?
Photobucket
Klassy beverages.

Klearly.

You haven’t lived until you’ve heard your mom talk about how delicious Four Loko is.

It pretty much made my life komplete.

Advertisements

One a Penny, Two a Penny

My Easter memories aren’t all beer and Jesus.

I’ve been a fan of the times when I’ve done things like get an extra Easter basket with Baby Brother
Photobucket
(Easter morning: “THE EASTER BUNNY LIKES US THE MOST! WE GOT EXTRA PRESENTS!”)

But mostly, Easter is Hot Cross Buns

My grandpa Frank was a baker
Photobucket
(He watches over me in my kitchen these days)

He was my maternal grandpa, but my mother never learned to bake with yeast. It makes her nervous. But she loved her dad’s baking, especially his hot cross buns.

We have his recipe, calling for things like 25 cups of flour, with notations on the side to bring it down to proportions where we’re not eating hot cross buns until Canada Day.

Every year, my daddy would spend hours in the kitchen, making hot cross bun after hot cross bun
Photobucket
Anyone who’s baked with yeast knows it’s a long process. And if you want them deliciously fresh, you can’t make them very far ahead of time.  So every year my daddy spends the bulk of Good Friday baking.

It’s a labor of love.

(and when things happen like towels being set on fire-which happen more often than you’d think-you hear a lot of God’s name being yelled. So I think it’s a spiritual experience too)

I’m not home for Easter this year. I’ll be spending it here in Portland, with my husband and in-laws. But I’m sharing my family’s labor of love with my own hot cross buns
Photobucket
Grandpa Frank’s recipe, with whole wheat flour. And part of the batch raisin-free for my husband.

I’m pretty sure Grandpa would approve.
Photobucket
Happy Easter! Enjoy your weekend

Sterotypical Turkey Day Post

I was trying to figure out how I could recap my Thanksgiving in true I’m an Eating Machine style.

I cooked very little of it, because part of going home is not having to do that.  My niece and I make the rolls the day before.   That was the extent of my cooking.

I don’t have have any awesome “stay healthy for the holidays!” tips.  I don’t eat the stuffing?  Because I don’t like it.
Photobucket
(That’d be my dinner-turkey, a roll, lots o gravy, peas, carrots, rutabegas, and sweet potatoes.)

I guess there’s a tip:  have a lifelong dislike of stuffing.  Saves more room for pie.

So rather than a post of here’s what I ate, or here’s what a I cooked, or here’s how to be healthy, I present….

What I drank on thanksgiving.

Coffee at the turkey trot
Photobucket

Plus Gatorade.  Gatorade is delicious.  I’m perpetually dehydrated, so I carry a drink (normally water) when I run.
Photobucket

See how those gloves look too small?  Turns out when you find gloves with Eyore on them at your parent’s house they might be kids sized, not grownup sized.  Life lessons.

Then more coffee at Baby Brother’s Starbucks
Photobucket
I had a swig of peppermint shnapps because it’s important to drink before noon.

I am not kidding on that.

Husband and Baby Brother took tequila shots.  This is my life.

My blood was about 97% caffiene at this point, so I ate lunch and drank some water in there.  And by water I mean diet Vernors
Photobucket
This stuff is delicious.   Other ginger ales taste blandddd once you’ve had it.

Then switched to wine.  Shocking.
Photobucket
Getting married is awesome, btw, because it means there’s always someone to get you another drink.  My glass refilled itself over and over without me doing it.

Dinnertime meant double fisting
Photobucket
I might have taught my 2 year old niece to yell “double fisting!” when she’s got two sippy cups this weekend.  It happens.

And then….
Photobucket
This happened
Photobucket
Gravy shots?
Photobucket
Yeah.
Photobucket
Gravy shots.

There’s no good explanation.  We had gravy.  And shot glasses.  It just seemed to make sense.  Someone else took a shot of butter.

Post dinner we had coffee and tea.  I’m in loves with this Trader Joe’s ish
Photobucket
But really, once you have had gravy shots, just tea doesn’t cut it.  So this happened
Photobucket
Rum and tea work!  Life lesson right there!

And finally, we ended the night looking at the giant stack of ads, with one last glass of wine (and a beer for my husband)
Photobucket
Happy Thanksgiving friends.

So, what did you drink?

I’m going to stuff my face

Because i ran a 5k today.
Photobucket
And not just any 5k.  A 5k in 17 degree weather.  With snow.

Seriously.
Photobucket
Seventeen degrees.

(Because I know I’ll get asked:  I wore a compression shirt, a long sleeved shirt, a vest, gloves, capri running tights, and sweat pants.  The sweat pants are ugly as sin, but they were $5 at Target.  And now that I own sweat pants I’m going to wear them all the time.  I’m married, I can let myself go.)
This is the race my brothers stalked Sarah Palin at last year.   This year instead of Alaska’s former governor, we got Alaska’s weather.

Hot drinks were a must

Photobucket
Husband + Me + Baby Brother + one of my older brothers + sis-in-law all did it.

We’re champs.
Photobucket
We were totallllly excited
Photobucket
See all the other crazy people?
Photobucket
Post run, Baby Brother’s water looked like this
Photobucket
That’s ice on the sides.  Yikes.

But no one got frostbite and the clock said 37 minutes when the husband and I finished (no chip time, sadly.  The start was supahhh slow).  So we’re winners
Photobucket

And now, it’s 1:00, and I’ve only had one drink.  I’ve got some catching up to do.

Happy Thanksgiving!

A Little Spoiled

I’m my daddy’s only daughter

Being the only girl in a family with 3 brothers means you get a little spoiled sometimes.

I’m also my daddy’s good eater-I’m far less picky than my brothers.  When my mom would go with Baby Brother to Canada to visit relatives every summer he’d make me delicious thai food that neither of them would eat.

When I worked on Sunday nights in high school, he’d make me my own little dish of dinner, just for me, and have it waiting in the oven when I got home.

In college when I’d come home to visit he’d bust out the Le Creuset and make me a giant batch of stew, dishing it out into tupperwares to fill my freezer until my next visit.
Photobucket

Being a little spoiled meant I always ate well.

Whenever I make stew it reminds me of my daddy.

You chop up the meat
Photobucket
Which I hate.  But pre-cut stew meat cost twice as much. My daddy raised me to be a smart shopper.

You coat your meat in flour
Photobucket
Once, my husband asked me why.  I think he expected some sort of reasonable explanation.

Instead he got “My daddy said so”. Do you really need more explanation than that?

You sear the meat
Photobucket
My daddy told me “otherwise you just have boiled meat”

“Boiled meat” sounds gross.  I know some people cook their meat like that.  But just say it “boiled meat”.  Ick.

You chop up onions
Photobucket
Carrots, Celery
Photobucket
And potatoes
Photobucket
and they all join the party on your stove

My parents perpetually have a bottle of wine open (my drinking is genetic friends), so there was always some around to add a swig into dinner.  I didn’t, so I added beer
Photobucket
Alcohol makes your food more delicious.  Plus, once it’s open you might as well have a drink…

Then you let it cook until the meat is falling apart tender.  Then you add a few tablespoons of flour to thicken it. And some peas and corn, because your mommy taught you to eat your veggies.

You also don’t let your husband stir it.  Because he will stir and stir and stir until the potatoes all dissolve.  I learned that lesson the hard way.

And you eat it
Photobucket
With bread
Photobucket
Because bread makes you happy.

Almost as happy as my daddy making me stew always did.

(I foolishly made the mistake or marrying someone my daddy thinks is fantastic.  These days when I visit my daddy is off on a beer run with my husband, rather than making me dinner.  Adulthood = less spoiled.)

Do you have something your parents would always make for you?

I am from Washington

Reading this post, you need to realize an important fact:

the first 22 years of my life were spent in Washington.

I know my apples.

I love my apples.

And sometimes I acquire so many apples I look like a hoarder.

I had 15 pounds of apples in my house this morning.  And that was after eating a few last night.

Criterions
Photobucket
McIntoshes
Photobucket
And fujis
Photobucket
Why so many?

We foolishly picked up apples on our way home from church yesterday.  That’s to blame for the fujis.

My parents were also coming.  And said they’d bring some things from the garden. That’s to blame for the Criterions.

And then I told my mom to go through the Hood River fruit loop on their way down.  Which resulted in the McIntoshes.

But like I said, if you’re a good Washingtonian you know your apples*

So I knew that even with their less than perfect spots
Photobucket
The criterions would make a fantastic pie.

Hello pretty
Photobucket
I love how apple pie looks
Photobucket
Crust
Photobucket
Brilliant part-I found a recipe where you make a caramel sauce, and dump it over the lattice.  Gives you sugary goodness on top.
Photobucket
And since I had started chopping apples, applesauce was made too
Photobucket
A little under an hour later, and I have this beauty on my table
Photobucket
And a big bowl of apple sauce
Photobucket
Plus, my apple stash has shrunk
Photobucket
At least until next week when my cousin is bringing us goodies from apple pressing.

I’m not worried.  It’ll just be an excuse to make more of these
Photobucket

What’s your favorite apple type?  I’m all about the fujis and the galas.

Have any favorite apple recipes?
*I have had many conversations about apples in my life.  Fuji’s vs Braburns, why on earth anyone eats apples that have “delicious” in the name as those are always the worst,  the pros and cons of a backyard apple trees.  Not weird, right?

Home Cooked

Yesterday, while on our shopping adventure, we stopped to get lunch in the mall

This was necessary as I had the distinct feeling while in Sephora of “Wow.  I might pass out right now.  Well, my phone is in my pocket, so they’ll be able to find the fiance”

Thanks blood sugar, thanks.  I suppose that’s what I get for having a tartlet for breakfast huh?

Thai food

Curry for me, some sort of deep fried goodness for the fiance.  Plus chinese

Pepper chicken and veggies for me, beef broccoli for the fiance.

Did you know if you ask nicely at Panda Express they’ll give you half rice/noodles, and half veggies?  It’s great if you’re me and crave veggies but love the carbs.

Then, because cooking at home would be a cost saving measure and we were shopping all day, we hit up our old hood for some dinner.

Sal’s was one of our favorite places in Northwest.  That might have something to do with the fact that our first visit there we discovered we’d come on half price wine night.

They give you wonderful bread.   Mmmm bread.

I made quick enough work of the bread basket that the idea of appetizers made my tummy feel like it’d explode.

(that clearly means I ate a LOT of bread.  Whoops)

My tummy was not, however, too full for wine

Shocking, right?

I ordered chicken with veggies, cause warm roast chicken sounded so good

And got this

Here’s what was awesome about that.

In high school for a while I worked at the mall.  The mall closed at 7 on Sundays, and I worked closing most Sundays.  By the time we got the store cleaned up, closed, and I got home, it was a big past when my family ate dinner.

But my daddy would make me little “Kalin meals” that involved baking up chicken and veggies and deliciousness in some sort of broth or sauce every week.

This tasted just like one of those.

Which made it pretty much the best dinner ever.

I’ve been packing and cleaning like crazy today, so I’ve only got one food photo to show you

No idea how that happened.  No idea at all.

So, let’s share a family food memory!  What was something that your family would make special for you?