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We Wish You a Hairy Christmas!

Mustaches were hung by lips with care in hopes that St. Nicholas would dig that hair.

Every year for one brief evening we welcome ugly whiskers and hideous jumpers into our lives with open arms. The Christmas spirit is, after all, about accepting the outcasts among us and what’s more untouchable than lip hair so bushy it might transform into a beautiful butterfly at any moment? Therefore, let it never be said that the Sabins are scrooges for not only do we repeatedly embrace the disgusting but we mercilessly force our friends to do the same.

The Ashleys dressed in ugly Christmas shirts instead of sweaters.
The ladies looked nearly lovely dressed in their attire glitches.
Yes, ridiculous comes in homemade.

Last week we held our annual Christmas party and the theme was once again unsightly holiday attire and revolting mustaches. Over twenty chums joined us, primed with their tacky sweaters and even nastier facial hair, as we celebrated the season of stuffing by enthusiastically consuming tacos from Rubios and cupcakes from The Sweet Tooth Fairy. Although our full tummies protested, we boogied away the hours after our meal with some beats from Dance Central and then proceeded to the highlight of the evening: the white elephant gift exchange.

Bart and Brandi wore the grossest sweaters they could find but they weren’t gross enough.
Kenny didn’t want anything to come between him and his clean shave so he opted for fabricated follicles.
Brett and Lauren forgot to bring the ugly to the party.

In our version of the white elephant game the gifts remain wrapped until the end of the frenzy. The uncertainty of what’s under the paper doesn’t stop people from picking favorites though and that makes it all the more entertaining when the present everyone’s been fighting over turns out to be a panpipe CD or a box of chocolates so old an archaeologist would consider it an artifact. The unbridled gift stealing this time took over an hour to finish in what was quite possibly our wildest exchange yet.

Jason's
Jason’s mustache was hideous indeed. It made him look like a disturbing combination of French king and country hick.
The men took foul to a whole new level with their knitted fineries, hefty hair, and flighty sentiments.
Jeremy had to shave his mustache for a business meeting a few days before our party so we mourned his recently deceased facial fur with signage.

It was a diverting evening filled with all the jovial overconsumption and cheesy superfluity you’d expect from the season. We hope those who partied with us enjoyed themselves and didn’t have too much of a lingering bellyache from the night’s constant bombardment of tacos and graphic staches.

Happy Mustachemas to all and to all a hairy delight!

Rachel December 11, 2012 No Comments

Thankful Fluff

I love to cook. Sadly, Jason and I are not often home long enough for me to do any serious cooking these days but I always insist on preparing a number of desserts for our Thanksgiving dinners whether time permits or not.

I quite enjoy cooking even when there’s an overabundance of it to be done.

This year I made Mayan chocolate pecan pie, sweet potato praline pie with maple sauce, pineapple upside-down cake, and a host of from scratch toppings for banana splits, including marshmallow fluff. As you might have guessed from that long list, I was in the kitchen for 5 or 6 hours baking alongside my faithful assistant Jason. We didn’t finish until around 1:30 in the morning.

Obviously, I only volunteered to taste the from scratch marshmallow fluff we made because I care about the quality of my cuisine.

Despite our grogginess at the time of cooking completion, all of our food experiments turned out well. While everything tasted yummy, the marshmallow fluff was my favorite of our treats simply because crafting it was like creating a magical brew. It mystically transformed from a thin frothy concoction to shiny sticky stuff in a matter of minutes. Maximo Marshmallio Fluffius!

The Mayan chocolate pecan pie I made contained a few extra ingredients: ancho chili powder, Kahlua, and semi-sweet chocolate. Therefore, it was extra tasty.
Jason made a great sous-chef. He happily chopped, washed, or crushed anything I asked.

Thanksgiving was a little crazy for us this year, as always, with our dual family appearances but our pies disappeared quicker than we had to so yeah for that! Yes, not only did our goodies go fast but we were able to hang around long enough to catch a few rays at the park with my family, as is tradition, and chill with the Sabin clan until any and all spare abdominal compartments were overflowing.

After cooking for five hours our kitchen was quite the mess. But no need for disgust, we had it all tidied up by the next day.
My family always heads to the park after our big meal. Sunshine is a good digestive catalyst.

I feel I cannot boast of culinary and familial holiday success though without confessing my secret shame: I didn’t make my piecrusts. How could a food scientist not make her own pastry dough? You don’t need to tell me what’s wrong with that. Next year I vow to create any and all crusts. I would have attempted that feat this time but easily-bungled gastronomic research is best left to when you’re not feeding company. (I have learned this lesson the hard way over Thanksgivings past.)

We ate dinner number two with the Sabins. My stomach did not appreciate this double-supper design.

Being able to see both our families every year on Thanksgiving is a joy and a burden. We enjoy spending this holiday with every single one of our loved ones but it wears us out. We come home at the end of the day exhausted. I guess baking until the wee hours of the morning doesn’t help either but sometimes sacrifices must be made in the great cause for deliciousness. Even with my complaints about the fullness of our Thanksgiving, I must admit that between fluff and family I have much to be grateful for.

Rachel December 4, 2012 No Comments

PJ & B

The sages have shared timeless guidance through the ages on how to prolong opportunities for loungewear wearing. Their great wisdom has taught us that if you can’t bring your nightgown to the shindig then bring the shindig to your nightgown. It was my turn to host Bunco this month and I decided to take this enlightened advice to heart by turning Bunco into a pajama party. Oh yeah, time to live it up like it’s 8 AM!

Pajamas and slippers are always in vogue at my house.

Breakfast and pajamas are kind of a packaged deal so I opted to make a morning meal our sustenance for the evening. Several years ago my mother-in-law Sue taught me how to make her recipe for British pancakes, AKA crepes, and I chose to share its deliciousness with my Bunco girls. Sue would be proud except I didn’t cover these goodies with her customary lemon juice and sugar. Oh the crepe corruption! Instead I concocted a variety of homemade toppings: caramel sauce, fat-free chocolate syrup, and fat-added chocolate syrup. I paired these condiments with ripe berries and freshly whipped cream for an even greater fat impact. Don’t tax your calculator by trying to count those calories; it might explode.

The creping went slowly and sloppily but pretty tastily too.

The preparations for this culinary endeavor went pretty smoothly. There were only two hiccups. Making individual crepes for 8 girls took a lot longer than planned and my hot buttery skillet coughed out more smoke throughout the process than a holey chimney. Luckily girls know how to talk so while I cooked away my guests were content chatting amid the lingering billows that made my kitchen resemble a seedy bar. I did complete the food fabrication though before we all passed out from smoke inhalation and the results were satisfying. My tummy would never accept a meal this rich in the AM but for a fake breakfast dinner it was pretty yummy. On a side note, I did practice my crepe making over the weekend and I think I’ve figured out a few tricks to make the process go considerably faster. So the next time I cook for a long line of famished ladies I believe I can fill their plates at a significantly quicker rate.

And the pajamas? So nice. Can we just play Bunco in our PJs every month? Seriously, it’s going to be hard to go back to rolling in regular clothes.

Thanks ladies for joining me for a cozy and stuffing evening. I appreciate your patience with the creeping creping and I hope your pajamas enjoyed their big night out.

Rachel November 28, 2012 No Comments
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