A Tisket, A Tasket

We found this darling food hamper by our front door this morning.

(A hamper is a British word for a wicker basket.  Yes, I watched Downton last night.)

 

I had to go get some dog food and milk this morning.

What?  You did too?  Weird.

When I returned home I saw this cute basket sitting on the porch.

 

I asked Mitch to go out and see what it was.

Then I hear, "You have got to be kidding".

 

 

This is what we found. 

A nice breakfast and three handmade cards

from three young girls.

 

Card #1 - a girl that professes her undying love for Mitch.  With lots of flowers and hearts and young love fluff written all over the card.

Card #2 - a girl that says "hi" and that she is just helping girl #1 and hoped that he enjoyed the breakfast they made for him. (this is the only girl I really do know, and yes, I like her)

Card #3 - a girl that only says, "I poisoned your breakfast!"

 

I think I love girl #3.

 

 

They brought him a bowl of sausage & biscuits and gravy, two red velvet pancakes, two fried eggs, and three slices of bacon. 

They did a very nice job.  As a person that cooks a lot, I dug in to see how well they cook.

The eggs were perfectly done over-easy.

The bacon was cooked to perfection.  NO kidding. 

The pancakes and biscuits & gravy were as good as any I've ever seen.

I was impressed by these 12 year old's cooking skills.

 

The only problem? 

We didn't notice they had droopped it off for sometime, apparently.  It was only 13° F when we got up and when we found the hamper all of the food was frozen solid. 

Never fear.  Frozen food doesn't scare us.

 

What does scare me is that girls are already starting to bring Mitch food.

I know about girls that make boys food.

I used to be one of them.



Sunday Afternoon Snack Attack

My short story of sopaipillas.

 

 

They will turn your frown upside down, any day.

 

 

Last Thursday I made some roll dough.  I wanted to take some cinnamon rolls to a friend for Valentine's Day and have fresh rolls with our dinner.

Well, half way though preparing the dough I decided that I was sick.

Too sick to finish, even.

So, I got a pan of rolls ready to cook for dinner and put the rest of the dough in the fridge to finish the next day.

 

Well, I didn't really function the next day.  Or the next.

 

 

 

So on Sunday afternoon I went to get another glass of grape juice and there was that dough.  Still waiting for me to return.

 

In my book, three days is about all I give uncooked yeast dough.  I don't like the smell and taste after that.  Seems kind of fermented, or something.  Anyone else agree?

 

Anyway, I hate, hate, hate wasting food.

Rolls (in any form) didn't sound good at all.

 

BUT sopaipillas, or fry bread, sure did.

 

 

It made a very nice, quick Sunday afternoon snack.

(and very happy kids)

Layne is out of town so we sent him a picture via cell phone just to make him jealous.  He was.

 

 

Yes, after living away from Idaho & Utah for nearly 20 years I no longer call them scones, unless I am in Idaho or Utah. Why?  Because that is the only place they call fried yeast dough, scones. Otherwise you'll get a lot of questioning looks.  BUT if you say sopaipillas or fry bread they know exactly what you're talking about.  So there you have it.  Now you'll never look stupid if you aren't in Idaho or Utah. I've got your back.