“Taco Meatball Ring” was the first recipe

Last night I went to the “Taste of Home” cooking show with my friends Katrina and NHBC. We had a good time. In an eye rolling, OMG, kind of way.

The show was….how should I put it?

Rudimentary.

For example, the host explained the difference between a clove of garlic and a head of garlic.

And it was very, very commercial.

Especially for something that wasn’t free. Tickets were reasonable, ten dollars, and I can understand having sponsers. But the show went beyond that into overt product placement and cringe worthy audience participation.

One sponser was McCormick Spices. All Taste of Home recipes specify “_ tsp McCormick ________.” That doesn’t bother me. I just subsititute my cheap ass Aldi’s or Dollar Tree basil, cumin, etc…

But during the show, one unfortunate lucky volunteer was asked to lead a cheer.

Give me an S!

S!

Give me a P!

P!

Give me an I!

I!

Give me a C!

C!

(Now if they had stopped there it would have put a totally different spin on the evening.)

Give me an E!

E!

What’s that spell?

Spice!

What’s your favorite spice?

Not oregano or tumeric, we were directed to respond:

“McCormick!”

Ugh.

Viva! papertowels was another sponser and everytime the hostess tore a paper towel off the tube we were instructed to yell “Viva!”

Yes, really.

Katrina, NHBC and I kept our mouths-a-shut and our eyes a-rollin’ but, amazingly, the rest of the audience seemed to enthusiastically participate. Maybe they were afraid of an uncomfortable, deathly silence, similar to when a disliked teacher asks a rudimentary question that only a huge kiss-up would answer. (And, yes, I often was that huge kiss up.)

None of us won a door prize either, darn. I really wanted to win the stainless steel fridge, but some lucky lady from Dunlap won it. As I told Katrina, “I have sour grapes. I’m sure her kitchen is WAY nicer than mine.”

Nevertheless, it was great to see Katrina and NHBC. It was fun, just maybe not in the way “Taste of Home” meant it to be.

Oh, and here’s a link to the taco meatball ring recipe.
(The host started making it and we were like, OKAY? There’s just something wrong with the phrase “Taco Meatball Ring;” I just can’t put it into words. However, once it was prepared, NHBC said “Wow, it’s starting to look good, maybe I WILL make that!” Hmmmm…. her contribution to the next book club meeting?)

Note to Katrina: I still haven’t found the damn rolling pin!

Friday night I met friends (Katrina, MarySue, and Laura) at Eamon Patricks. After MarySue and Katrina commiserated with Laura on the loss of her dear Grandma I told the following story:

“Today I bought a soda at Phils (local grocery store) and it was flat. I took it back to the store to exchange it. I handed it to the cashier and she’s like ‘Oh, it smells flat.’ And I’m like WTF? So, I go get a new soda and tell the cashier, ‘Denise, can I open this here and taste it? Because it might be flat, too?’ (My friends’ eyes are glazing over about now) She’s all, like, ‘Okay.’ So I taste it and it’s flat, too! I tell Denise, hand it back to her and she opens it and TAKES A BIG DRINK of the soda. And I’m all like, OMG, she just drank a drink of soda after a customer. Isn’t that just so weird?”

My friends are all, like, “Yah, Jennifer, that’s odd.”

“Oh, and what made me think of that, my soup is good, and I thought, ‘Oh, Laura might like this soup, but I’ve only got, like, the one spoon, and if I offer her a bite, I’d have to offer her my spoon.’ And, ewwww… that’s kinda gross.”

Thinking about this exchange, I realize, One, I’m an asshole. I mean, really, Laura’s grandma died, people are offering condolences, and my contribution to the conversation is asinine. (Yes, I just totally looked up asinine, because really shouldn’t it be ASSinine? That would make more sense) Two, I still talk like a 7th grader, with a stream of consciousness, rambling style that includes way too many “likes.” Three, God, I’m BORING!

Saturday, my sister Kelly and her kids came over to celebrate my dad’s 63rd birthday. Following dinner, Reagan put the candles on the cake, writing the numbers 6 and 3 with candles, only she wrote the 3 backwards. She didn’t even realize it when we pointed it out and drew one in the air, also backwards. Is it possible to not show signs of dyslexia until the age of 12?

Kelly brought me a bag of Circus Peanuts , a gag gift, based on the fact that I once had a slip of the tongue in saying “I love to eat Circus Peanuts.” (Say circus peanuts 3 times fast and you’ll get it.)

Sunday, some of the moms’ of 8th graders threw a cook out to foster unity amongst my son’s 8th grade class. It’s a small school and the moms felt that the kids were being too clique-ish.

My son wouldn’t go because “No one cool is going.”

So we stayed home and had pressed Cuban Sandwiches and Roasted Onion Gorgonzola soup for dinner. Yum.