Official Thanksgiving cheap mlb jerseys photo that doubled as the showcase of the
 (electronic-because-we’re-lazy-postal-customers) Christmas card.
Thanksgiving 2013. Mom and Step-dad are in residence for the inaugural feast in the new home. Chatting over the dinner table one evening, the subject of Grandma’s spaghetti sauce bubbles to the surface. My childhood view is that it was basically bland unflavored tomato meat. 
<insert sigh of disgust here> 
My mother comes to her deceased ex-Mother-in-Law’s defense in this way:
(Note to reader: say the following quote in your head in an incredibly upbeat, high-pitched voice) “But, honey, it was special! She made it with the canned Del Monte red enchilada sauce and then we used it for taco filling the next day! Remember?”
Um, no.
Spaghetti sauce is Italian food. Taco meat is Mexican food. Never the two shall cross. Totally different spice palettes. No, no, no she argues, that’s why it was special and Grandma made it all the time.
<insert sigh of disgust here + teenage eye roll>
It dawned on me at that moment that my Grandma was the reason why I never learned how to cook. The cooking gene just was not in our family DNA. 
It’s just not my gifting. 
I’m totally jealous of my friends who can seemingly whip up a delicious meal using whatever is in their fridge plus a little love. We call it “shooting from the dinner hip” and I do it badly. I need recipes. I need measurements. I need structure. 
Enter Julia. Remember the 2009 film Julie & Julia about blogger Julie Powell’s journey through Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking with Amy Adams and Meryl Streep? I’ve used this movie as a research reference. I know, I know, it’s a Hollywood production. Blah, blah, blah. But still, it’s cheap jerseys China way more entertaining than reading Julie Powell’s original blog from 2002. Besides, Amy Adams is adorable and Meryl Streep is impressively tall next to Stanley Tucci. 
But I digress. 
Quoting Julie/Amy from the film, “If I really wanted to learn how to cook, I’d cook my way through [the aforementioned cookbook].” So, that’s what I’m going to do – kinda. Have you seen the size of supportsFlashVideo this book? There are two volumes and that was never in the film! Julie’s big freak out was that she’s have to bone a duck. Big whoop. How about the recipes calling for brains, liver and other internal Equipment organs? I made my mother handle the giblets during the cheap mlb jerseys Thanksgiving turkey experiment, so needless to say, just ick. I’m not a fan of the gelatin-based aspics either. Texture, people. Texture.
Two volumes, people. Two. 
Fast forward to Christmas. I’ve been bugging my husband for the cookbook because now the intensity factor has kicked in that I wrote about here. Since I lack in kitchen creativity I decide to cook Boeuf Bourguignon because, let’s face it, adorable Amy Adams says it so cute in the movie. Pronounced “BOOF Bor-Gen-Yun”. 
Plus, the Sassy Sleever can only eat protein. Oh, wait, you don’t know the Sassy Sleever? I’ll write about that next time.

Santa delivers the book, attachments are purchased for my 5-year old Kitchenaid wholesale mlb jerseys mixer (wire whip, dough hook, etc), regular apron purchased (because I refuse to wear the cupcake apron my Mother purchased for me four years ago) and now there are no more excuses. Gulp.

It took Grammy and I TWO FULL cheap jerseys HOURS to prepare this dish, plus THREE HOURS in the oven and a sink-full of dirty dishes.So, I guess you could put it this way:


During the 2-hour prep period, 3/4 of the children had to fend Allergies for themselves. Luckily, they are pretty self sufficient at 16, 10 and 8. Maddy even got into the swing of things by making “dishes” with her newly discovered play-doh food maker thingy-a-bob.

“Beef stew and ice cream”

Ironically, during the time that Grammy Ryans and I, two of the worst cooks on the planet for totally different reasons, are making gourmet French food, the kids are eating this for dinner…

Boofy-stew is cooling on the stove in preparation for reheating tomorrow. Because, let’s face it, it’s 10:42 pm. Too late for dinner. We started this at 4:00 pm. 
Husband’s comment at 9:45 pm, ” ARE YOU STILL COOKING THAT?”
Ugh, this is going to be a a long year.