The below is a recipe I dragged out of a strangerfriend™
(definition someone to whom youve become close via random internet connections yet might not recognize if you passed on street. Sample sentence: I got the NICEST email from my strangerfriend, Emily, today. She always perks me right up. Please to also see MizFits nonfiction proposal which languishes in her filing cabinent: Strangerfriends: The internet & its impact on friendship connections.)
She’s a mom who juggles everything life throws at her with a smile and a HEALTHY dollop o’snark (as you might have seen in the comments she leaves) which the MizFit can not help but adore.
her response to my inquiry?
This is fun. I like to write about myself. It makes me feel so insecure
and totally non-self-aware. Wheeeeee!
The basics: I’m 31, two daughters (20 and 1.5), one husband, one dog, and
I’ll give you a minute to get your mind around all of
I like to cook. No, I love to cook. Adore it. I used to bake up a storm
but now I only really have time to cook meals (see above sentence).
Typically I like to make simple things that don’t result in a lot of dirty
The below recipe is one of my faves because its easy and everyone
eats it from babies to picky teenagers.
There is no “real” recipe, it’s more of a grind up tomatoes in either
blender or food processor, add fresh basil to blender til it tastes like
it has enough, then add olive oil (as much or little as ya like), then a
healthy dose of seasoning (I like Jane’s Mixed Up Crazy Salt).
Pour over hot pasta (angel hair works best) and throw in:
nothing, drained marinated artichokes, grape tomatoes, chopped up fresh
mozzarella, or use them all. Mix well. Serve to the masses.
(MizFit note: Ill spare you any kind of I HEART my high protein pasta rant and just toss you this pastaformation link to peruse.)
Bonus points if you can find salad of mozzarella, tomatoes, and
artichokes already pre-made and marinated at chi chi grocery? (Not
that I’d ever cheat like that.)
Please visit Garden of Eden grocery on 14th street in NYC. Tell them I sent you. Get petit-fours on your
Please to look eagerly for Miss. P’s next post entitled How To Burn Off Aforementioned Petit-Fours in Four easy Steps.