Read!

and please get some #!@$@#! sleep! (Awww, who’s been reading the mom bloggers?)

— wm

“Sometimes we feel that one individual’s action is very insignificant. Then we think, of course, that effects should come from channeling or from a unifying movement. But the movement of the society, community or group of people means joining individuals. Society means a collection of individuals, so that initiative must come from individuals. Unless each individual develops a sense of responsibility, the whole community cannot move. So therefore, it is very essential that we should not feel that individual effort is meaningless — you should not feel that way. We should make an effort.” — His Holiness the Dalai Lama, from “The Dalai Lama’s Little Book of Wisdom: The Essential Teachings,” p. 400

Chicken Meatball and Tortellini Noodle Soup
(from Tyler Florence)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

Take a large mixing bowl and add loose ground chicken meat (discard cases if using sausages), breadcrumbs, milk, egg, parsley and 1/4 cup of grated parmesan. Season with salt and pepper then mix until fully combined. Using an ice cream scoop, make balls and set out on a roasting tray. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with a little grated parmesan. Roast in the oven for 15-20 minutes until golden brown and caramelised.

While the meatballs are cooking make the soup. Set a large stock pot over medium heat. Add olive oil, garlic and thyme and gently sauté until fragrant – about 2 minutes. Add carrots, onion and celery, season with salt and cook for 5-7 minutes. Pour in chicken broth and add peppercorns, parsley and bay leaf. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer for 25 minutes.

Once meatballs are cooked, scrape into the pot of chicken soup and add tortellini so everything is back in the pot. Bring to a boil and cook for 2-3 minutes to allow the flavors to come together. Give it a final season with salt and peper and serve in shallow bowls with a small shower of parsley and grated parmesan. Garnish with a parsley stem and serve with some torn pieces of crusty bread.

(so good. wm)

Roasted Fruit a la Martha
We roast vegetables all the time (the asparagus has been soooooooo good this year, but we’re avoiding the frittatas, mmmmmmm frittatas…) but I never roast fruit. This is on my to-do list, after seeing them do it up on Everyday Food:

Chop into hunks and mix up: nectarines, plums, peaches (or apples and pears).

Sprinkle with two or three tablespoons of sugar (more if fruit isn’t very ripe); cube a couple of tablespoons of butter and dab it on top; add springs of rosemary; squeeze some lime juice over.

Roast at 400 degrees for 15 minutes or so. Serve with ice cream, whipped cream or creme fraiche.

Bon appetit!

ps if you’re looking for a great “how-to” guide for roasting vegetables, click here.

WM

If you’re in Portland, Oregon, check out Pitch a Tent for the Right 2 Survive.

Cuz we all have the right to survive, and be safe.

Peace.

— wm

See the whole set on flickr.

This fractures me.

isn’t that great news? yeah.

did i mention, that in addition to bronchitis, the worst allergies I’ve ever had in my life, a growing sense of “can we please be done with this now please, already?” about my novel (man am i sick of looking for typos, continuity blah blah and misc. plot debris)…

where was I going with this? yes. I had some tumor/growth/alien life force removed from my leg.

that’s why you stop by, right? for the gnarly health news? this wasn’t even gnarly, as these things go. This very beautiful girl doctor and her sweet and also beautiful assistant shoved me backwards on the table, shot up my leg with local anesthetic, and then I don’t even want to know what they did next. But it’s a week later and it’s still sore. Not bad sore — it’s healing up and all, but damn. You just never know what they’re going to do to you, once you step into that strange vortex known as The Doctor’s.

This is me at the doctor’s office. (Thank you, Tom Petty, for the visuals.)

it was just something I didn’t want to deal with and I finally did, yay me. Then I cried because it hurt and the doctor said, If it is malignant, we would need to… and then we’d… and general anesthetic and you’re strong and healthy and would do just fine with that, yes?

my response to that was: “No.” (See? See? Proof on my own blog.)

seriously, Internets. Unlike the rest of my deranged, high-strung extended family, I have extremely low blood pressure. I mean, it’s 90/60 on a good day. When I get sick/stressed/have just had surgery/am losing blood/haven’t had enough milkshakes or sweet potato pie/you name it, it dips to like, 70/47. Then the buzzers and bells start going off, whoop-whoop-aoooooooga! and they all get really excited and things get lively and I think, I am so glad I’m lying down for all this.

Then Steve says, “Even when it’s normal, it’s like, 90/60. She’s a freak, she’s fine.” And then they all simmer down. I can say the same thing, but they don’t listen to Almost-Dead Girl. But they will listen to Steve. Whatever.

Also my lungs have a hard time remembering to breathe. They just… don’t cooperate sometimes.

So I would prefer to never go under general anesthetic for the rest of my life. Also? Veins are collapsing due to Having Too Much Blood Taken for Thyroid Issues and Whatever Else the Vampires Wanted It For.

Hmm.

GOOD NEWS. I called for the test results and the very nice man gave me my favorite letter and my favorite number: B9. Benign!!! Get it? Which is just great, because you know what my favorite movie was when I was a young girl? Sunshine. You know what my favorite book was? (Next to “Wifey,” “Princess Daisy” and any other good smutty trash I could find)… that’s right. Norma Klein’s “Sunshine.” What happens in that book? That’s right. A beautiful teenage mom finds out she has Leg Cancer and her only options are 1) have it cut off or 2) have it cut off or 3) take meds and puke her guts out and then die, anyway.

When you are a teenage girl, this is the sort of book you want to re-read 200 times. So I did. Oh, and “Go Ask Alice.” Yes. So I think this has sort of been a lifelong fear, perhaps. That I will get leg cancer and have to choose between puking/then dying or having my leg amputated. I would choose… neither. I just wouldn’t go to the doctor, that’s how I would solve that one. But I did go to the doc, and all is well. And I’m done with antibiotics for bronchitis and seem to be on the mend. Good! Right on!

Beautiful, happy Friday to you.

— wm

ps in unrelated news, I just filed my first book review for my girls at BlogHer. It’s on “Getting to Happy,” Terry McMillan’s sequel to “Waiting to Exhale.” The review will run sometime this month — I’ll link when it does. (Link!) Will you go check out their site, pretty please? Good stuff on there, and lots of interesting women writing about things that won’t make you wince like I do. Ta-ta for now!

Hmm. Check this one out. And why is it no one is asking?

— wm