Kitchen Time with Cara: Mac n' Cheese

Mmm. Nothing is better for a cozy dinner than cheesy macaroni … unless it is Chinese take out … or ice cream straight out of the container. Everyone seems to love this recipe, except for those people who hate creamy things, and really what is wrong with them? I like the fact that it is super easy. You can also dress it up by baking it in the oven for a few minutes and throwing some bread crumbs on top. Who wouldn’t like tossing bread crumbs around? And it is even better reheated on the 2nd day. Here it is, enjoy.

Microwave Mac n’ Cheese

2 Cups uncooked macaroni
2 Cups hot water
1/3 Cup butter or Margarine
¾ Tsp. Salt
¼ Tsp. Pepper
¼ Tsp. Ground Mustard
1/3 Cup Flour
1 ¼ Cups Milk
8 ounces cheese cubed

In a 2 qt Microwave safe dish, combine the first six ingredients. Cover and microwave on high for 3 ½ minutes, stir. Cover and cook at 50% power for 4 minutes until mixture comes to a boil, rotating a half turn once. Combine flour and milk until smooth; stir into macaroni mixture. Add cheese. Cover and cook on high for 6-8 minutes or until the macaroni is tender and sauce is bubbly, rotating a half turn once and stirring every 3 minutes.

Yield: 4 servings. For a change you can ad ¾ cup of bread crumbs mixed with 2 tsp. of melted butter and parsley to taste. Bake for 15 minutes at 400.

The Gift that keeps on giving

I don’t mean to shock you … in fact you had better sit down … but I have made another great discovery.

Email.

Yes, yes, I am so untechnological it’s hard to live with myself but … I have just found the on/off switch in my Blogger menu that allows me, to allow you, which then allows your dearest friends, and so on and so forth, to pass around little bits of me electronically.

“Just what I always wanted,” you say.

I do what I can.

So, let me draw your attention to the little tiny envelope perched ever so smugly at the bottom of each post. Email. So much better than snail mail. See, the email envelope even looks faster, with its little arrow pointing off the page as though it had somewhere else it needed to be, yesterday, and you are holding it up by reading slow. Yes, very smug, I’m sure you will agree. Simply clicking on the baby envelope will allow you, gentle reader, to forward the link to this post or indeed any post the envelope is attached to, to any number of your friends … or enemies … you pick, who am I to judge? Your ‘cough’ persons of interest can be as entertained as you are … or thoughtlessly tortured beyond their wildest dreams. Depends.

Though how anyone could fit a couple words let alone a whole post inside such a small envelope is beyond me. Ah, the magic of the internet. Its sweet mystery amazes me.

I wonder if it knows how to change lead into gold?

Fantastic Fun

The most wonderful thing happened today. There was a coke fountain right in the middle of my kitchen. Yes. It’s true. An actual, spurting fountain of coke.

I was so excited. The last time I saw something of this magnitude I was six years old and enjoying my sandwich in the gym. A little boy across the room started screaming and all the other kids shuffled their bums as fast as they could in another direction. There, right where the boy had been was a giant, glorious stream of pop, flying straight into the air. It almost touched the ceiling.

“He shook it a lot.” Whispered a little boy.
“Yuck! I’m all sticky! My dress is ruined!” the girl next to me moaned.
“Who was that boy?” I asked, “I want to marry him.”

It’s true. Since that day I have been trying, with no success, to figure out how to get a can of pop to shoot straight into the air. Call it a hobby. Perhaps it is one of the sad side effects of being too curious. Good thing I’m not a cat.

Well, today my husband decided to carry up three cans of pop from the basement … which he then promptly dropped on the kitchen floor. The pop in two of the cans started to spurt out everywhere … all over the table, walls, me …
“Open your mouth!” I yelled “It’s a coke shower!”
“Are you crazy? Look at the mess!”
“Wee!” I said, skidding through a bubbly puddle and into the cabinets.
“Well, make fun if you want. Everything’s all sticky, and now we’re going to have to clean up.”

You’d think he’d be excited. I married the cool kid with the coke.

Sunday Intellectual Discussion: Money, Money, Money

If you had $1, 000, 000 at your disposal what you do with it?

Neither Shall She Eat

When my husband arrived home and announced that he was going out to visit a buddy… tonight … a deathly foreboding filled the air. I wasn’t sure what it was, or even exactly when … but it was going to happen. Sure enough, moments after he exited the premises a chain of events leapt into action that threatened my very being. Well, at least my stomach. And, as my kids know, my temper is attached to my stomach.

1. With no one to cook steaks on the BBQ (One person operating an open flame with 4 small children in attendance is not recommended) I would have to figure out how to cook the defrosted meat fast or come up with another meal. “Oh well”, I said, “forget the steak, I can still use the barley from the side dish and make a different main.”


2. The barley burns. Yes, burns so badly that I will be scraping carbon off the bottom of the pot for the next ten days.  “Oh well,” I said, cringing at the advancing time, “I’ll be 15 minutes late but we’ll have pasta instead.” I stand by the pot so it won’t burn and feed the girls bits of muffin. The pasta cooks unscathed. I lovingly garnish said dish. Call the children.


3. The older two come up stairs screaming. She pushed him; he tried to turn off the button on the TV… that’s exactly how the Gulf war started. I get her calmed down and turn to talk to my son. My daughter takes that moment to “respice” the pasta. The pasta now tastes like the salt lick on Uncle Bills farm. I load everyone in the van. “That’s ok,” I said, “we still have half an hour before the babies go to bed, we can get things at McDonalds.”


4. After more screaming and pushing from all the children we are on our way. The children are happy with their meal and start to tuck in. I get a couple fries and the pop from my son’s nugget meal. I decide to go get a bagel instead. Toasted with Strawberry Cream Cheese.


5. I eat said bagel. It is burnt on the inside and, somehow, the cream cheese is almost entirely residing in the middle hole.  “That’s ok,” I said, “My pop is still pretty good.” The babies start screaming. I take everyone home, making several trips to the car to retrieve all the children and food baggies.


6. I arrive back inside to find that my daughter has now drained my pop. Great … she’ll be extra hyper.

So, if you’ll excuse me now I’m going to find something to eat that does not involve heating elements. It will most likely be bologna straight out of the fridge. Wish me well.

My Landlord

I recently decided to try renting someone else's blog. There are so many weird things you can do on the "net" so I guess living in two or three places at once is not so strange ... not really. Question though, Kat, there's a couple burnt bulbs and an old furnace at my place ... can you let me know when you can get to it?

Check out Kats blog in return. She's a great writer and very funny so it's worth the visit.
Kats Knoll