More iPhone fun

So after spending those bucks on all the photo applications for my iPhone I decided to take them on a test run. As I pointed out to Marty, you can use these applications to take photos or to edit existing photos on your device.

I needed some other entertainment while watching TV over the weekend. Natasha was nearby, looking oh so cute. Voila! End of boredom. This is the original photo taken.

First I opened CameraBag. CameraBag simulates the styles of photos taken by various cameras. I settled on 1974 for this one.

For my second edit of the original photo, I used Picoli to add a sepia tone.

This last image is courtesy of Photogene. I adjusted the color levels and added a frame. If I was into making my own lolcats, I could even add dialog balloons with this app.

I think the 1972 courtesy of CameraBag is my favorite of the bunch.

Oh, and Natasha would like to wish y'all a safe and happy Halloween -- or Samhain as we call it over in our place.

Update: Thanks to a suggestion from Fluffycat, the contest is on. That's right. I am willing to part with one of my bags of Halloween Circus Animals. (I don't really need them anyway.)

"How do I get my hands on a bag of that yumminess?" you ask. Simple. Come up with a caption for Ms. Natasha. She will be selecting the winner. Because it's her world after all.

Yo slut

It all started in eighth grade. I cannot recall what exactly I said, but Jade responded with, "You are such a slut." I told her that if I was a slut, then she was a bitch. And thus our nicknames for one another were born. (Now before you get all in a tizzy, let me point out that I was the girl who could count how many dates she had in high school on one hand.)

I remember party hopping one Friday night my junior year of college. I was hanging on the balcony when I saw Jade and her roommate walking past.

"Yo bitch!"

"Hey slut! What's up?"

"Cool party. You should head on up."

While she was heading up to the party, one of the guys standing near me asked if he could use the nicknames.

"Have you known us since you were seven? Nope? Then you'd probably get your ass kicked for using them."

I guess when we graduated from college, we decided that we were too grownup to continue using the names. La Nicoya and I are known to start a phone conversation with, "Hey hooker. What's up?" though.

Where is this all leading, you ask? Well, Hilly was kind enough to share this item from Miss Britt. So thinking about Halloween costumes got me thinking about all of this.

Halloween is one of my fave holidays. The past few years, things have gotten a little crazy on the party scene, though, and it has become one of those holidays that I spend at home.

When I first started college, I discovered that it was perfectly acceptable to dress slutty on Halloween. Hell that first Halloween, a group of my friends went as a pimp and his hookers. Of course, over time slutty just became my everyday look. Halloween was slutty with a theme.

I used to sew quite a bit. That means that I generally made my own costumes. It started with the slutty angel. I made the French maid costume out of gold polka-dotted white satin. Add wings and a halo with gold sequin trim and a pair of white fishnets with white pumps. Yep, all kinds of sparkly sluttiness. I wore it to the Castro. There was a guy there wearing nothing but a g-string. I kid you not. I felt like I had too many clothes on.

Other past favorites were the slutty Bo Peep and the slutty Red Riding Hood. I like costumes with accessories. The Red Riding Hood basket? Stocked with candy, tequila and condoms. I'm starting to think that I stopped dressing up for Halloween because I got stuck on which fairytale character to do next.

On a final note, I have always been cool with slutty but skank? May I remind you of those oh so great words of Jade's. "It's OK to look like a ho. Just don't look like a tacky one."

What y'all have been waiting to see

Christmas of 1991, I drove from Virginia to my dad's hometown in southwest Georgia. My dad fretted as he often does when I hit the road on my own. To alleviate his stress, I said that I would only drive to Durham alone. From there, I would follow my great aunt and her husband down to Georgia.

Thing is they planned to stay in Georgia less time than I did so I would be doing the drive home alone. I told my relatives that I would see how I felt when I got to Durham. If necessary, I would spend the night with these relatives and head out the next morning. The thing is that that the drive from my dad's hometown to Durham is something like seven hours. And I did at least half the drive in torrential rain. I stopped in Durham for gas and realized that if I didn't keep going, I would never make it home. I was near bone tired and operating on adrenaline. So another three hours later, I arrived home. I was hungry and tired. Tired won. I had no food at home and just didn't have the energy to go out to find some. I awoke the next morning in a pickle. Where were my keys? After a half hour of searching, I found them -- in the front door. That's when I realized just how tired I had been the previous evening.

The next time I took the trip was for Christmas 1997. That time I did the drive via Florence, South Carolina. (I had a friend back then who lived in Florence.) There was also supposed to be a stop in Savannah but my grandmother ended up in the hospital briefly. I felt that it was more important that I spend that extra time with her instead of exploring Savannah. One day I will finally get to Savannah, though.

But y'all don't want to hear about all that. Y'all want to hear about the tiara. First of all, let me say that it is real rhinestones. That thing has weight to it. When I arrived in Georgia, I was relegated to one of my usual family holiday duties -- gift-wrapping. As in, I wrap everyone's gifts except for the ones that are for me. (When I was in high school, my parents would pay me to wrap their gifts. My mother said that I have a way with odd-shaped packages.) My grandmother and my aunts had numerous packages that needed wrapping. Have I mentioned that my dad is one of ten children? My grandmother was not wheelchair-bound at this point so in the daytime, we would talk about food. Prior to her wheelchair days, I would have been helping her with the holiday baking like I did in 1991. At night I wrapped gifts into the wee hours of the night.

It all started that first night of gift-wrapping. I went digging through the bags of wrap and trim and found -- a tiara. My aunt explained the origin of the tiara -- some sort of pageant -- and I promptly set it upon my head. Every night I would pull out the tiara so that I could wear it while I wrapped gifts. Christmas Day it was decided that I should hand out the gifts. "But where is your tiara?" my aunt asked. I found it and put it on. And then handed out gifts and smiled for photos.

I had said during that visit that I would take the tiara home with me. I didn't. Perhaps I should go back for it. Because I've been practicing the hands and all so they don't seem so dead.

Happy Ostara

That's right. I'm coming out of the broom closet. As if some of you hadn't figured it out previously. And those who have know that I like to rant occasionally but I would never act on those rants. I just don't want the karmic fallout. And today I have been thinking about the fallout of some of my rants. I do not regret any of the things I have said here in the past. They were carefully deliberated thoughts. (Remember? If I am feeling angry, I let the post marinate at least 24 hours before posting.) And over this last week I have been reading the commentary about Obama's speech on racism. And at times I got angry once more.

Although my mother has tried to tell me to let go of this anger. And when she says this, I want to let go. Because my mother, just like my father, grew up under Jim Crow. And every now and then they say things that shock me. Kind of like Reverend Wright. And I forgive them because I know where they have been. Because that's what we do in Black America -- we forgive. Why? Because I know that if I had lived through Jim Crow, Reverend Wright might just sound like a conservative compared to me. As I said back in December, I am tired of people of privilege defining who I should be. And along with this, comes the feeling that these same people should not have the audacity to tell me what is and is not racism.

Now add onto all of this that I took Jill's suggestion to read The Parable of the Sower -- the coolest book I have read in some time. But in reading this book, I couldn't help but think that we weren't that far away from that world. It was the same feeling I got from reading A Handmaid's Tale years ago.

The world has been heading toward a scary place for many years. And finally I started to think that we might get off that track. Before the latest crap. And I start to think about how change is so upsetting to many people. They'd rather maintain the status quo even if the status quo is crap. Or maybe they don't realize that it's all crap because they're benefiting from the status quo.

But today is Ostara -- the day of new life. And for the first time in years, I believe that this is truly the case. Oh. And when they told me that I could leave work early today for Good Friday, I didn't bat an eye. I wonder if they felt the gust as I headed out.

How I roll

Yesterday at work was uneventful. Well, it was if almost slipping into a coma from boredom can be considered uneventful. It was a slow day and the guys were out most of the day. I played a lot of Taipei. After I got home, I remembered what made it different. For the last five years, I have worked in education. And kids love VD. VD would roll around and I would get a bunch of candy and cards. It didn't matter if I didn't have a boy at the time because there would always be a couple of kids around to tell me how great they thought I was. I guess that's why I decided to do the whole dinner for self thing this year. Not that I didn't get any holiday wishes and what not. The women in my family have always made it a point of acknowledging the day with each other -- phone calls, cards, something to let you know that someone else is thinking about you.

Oh, and before I continue, let me share this tidbit. When I spoke to my mother yesterday (Now it's phone calls but when she still lived in the states she'd always send me a card. And perhaps a gift), my mother talked about VD in Mexico. In Mexico, February 14th is Dia de la Amistad. That's Friendship Day for those of you who couldn't do the translation. Wouldn't it be great if we could do that here in the United States? Instead of celebrating romance, use the day to celebrate other forms of love? And then I thought that perhaps Hilly would fit right in if she were to go to Mexico.

And now what you really wanted to see -- last night's dinner.




I took more photos of the oysters in case y'all had forgotten what they looked like.


This was followed by Steamed Mussels with Lemon-Saffron Sauce.


The main event -- Salmon in Mussel Saffron Sauce with couscous and a simple salad.


And for Nat, the carrot cupcake.

The best part? Leftovers tonight!

I was going to give this post another title but then I saw that I had used it already. When I did the search, I came across this jewel from exactly one year ago. And here I was thinking that getting outraged around here was a new thing.

Numero uno

Before I get into the "real" post, let's throw in this quiz. I found it over at Tami's last night.

Your Candy Heart Says "Cutie Pie"

You always seem to have a hot date, even though you never try to meet anyone. A total charmer, you have a natural appeal that keeps you in high demand. Your ideal Valentine's Day date: multiple dates with multiple people Your flirting style: 100% natural What turns you off: serious relationship talks Why you're hot: you're totally addicting

What Does Your Candy Heart Say?

Any questions as to why I have only had a boyfriend on two VDs in my life? Didn't think so. Not that I need one since I usually end up with these obsessive types. Hmmm. Wonder why? After reading the comments at Neil's, I may have found my soul mate. (Look for TRO's comment. But not at work. Of course, this would require finding an SO. So maybe I should just stop by here to find the right "mate." Ummm. And don't click this link if you're at work.) On to what I started off wanting to say today.

In the past I have been guilty of putting the needs of others ahead of my own needs. It does not lead to a pretty situation for me. This I learned in a year of therapy. Knowing the right thing to do and actually doing it are two completely different things though. It has taken me nearly ten years from those therapy sessions to be at a place in which I feel comfortable in taking care of me. Because while others might, there's no guarantee that they will. In the end, I am the only person upon whom I can rely to make sure that I'm getting what I need out of life. (Of course this is all within the constraints of society as a whole. Because sometimes wanting something does not mean that you will achieve it no matter how hard you try. But that doesn't mean that I'm just going to accept the status quo either.)

I always make sure to take extra good care of myself for at least a couple of days out of the month. If I don't, the wacky hormones can make me do things that I might not otherwise. I also think of it as a public service when I sequester myself. Because I'm just as likely to say something that's completely cheery as I am to say something completely mean and cruel. Basically my super ego completely disappears.

This past weekend reminded me of a few things. First of all, I haven't been wearing skirts for a number of weeks. And as the woman at the dry cleaners pointed out, I own a lot of skirts. More so than pants. Because I often have a hard time finding pants that fit properly. And after weeks of rain and wearing pants, I was starting to feel downright frumpy. Wearing skirts always makes me feel good. So this week I have made an effort to wear some of my favorite skirts. And since the sun is shining, I'm pretending that it's actually summer.

So then I started thinking about the survival eating that I've been doing. That must end. And it ends tonight. Because what's a better way to tell yourself that you think you're fantastic than to make a special dinner? I made my list yesterday at work (They really shouldn't leave me alone for hours at a time.) and stopped at one of my favorite grocery stores on the way home last night just so that I wouldn't have to shop tonight.

On the menu are the oysters that have become an addiction at this point and a seafood dish I haven't made in some time. (I promise to take a better photo of it this time.) And because I love seafood so much, I think I'll be giving this a try as well. Because why just have one dish with mussels when you can have two? And what to go with all this seafood? Probably some couscous, a simple salad, and perhaps some French bread. Saucy food just seems to scream for bread.

Hope you all enjoy VD! I know that I will. (Please feel free to make the jokes.) And don't forget to get something nice for yourself. I always do because then I figure that I'll have at least one gift that I really like. The rest is just icing on the cake.

Oh, and don't forget to stop by and visit Hilly today. If you haven't guessed it yet, I think that every day is self-love day. But what the heck! Let's make it a holiday. I'm also digging the thought of these folks these days.

Merry Christmas

Oops. Meant to post this in the morning but it's still Christmas day here. And even though I don't technically celebrate Christmas, my family does. So I show up out of respect. And when they do the prayer before the meal I just substitute a few words in my mind.

And this year was a little different. First of all, because my aunt cooked dinner. As in the one to whom I am always delivering food. It's not that she can't cook; it's just that she doesn't like to -- often. And we really didn't do the gift thing this year. It was just about being together. Because there's a good chance that my stepmother won't be around next Christmas. So that means that I'll be driving up to Sacramento soon to use her gift -- a gift certificate for a pedicure at her favorite nail salon in Sacramento. Funny how time has changed her opinion of the "spoiled brat" from her husband's first marriage. OK. I am a spoiled brat.

But then on Monday morning I spent an hour or so on the phone with my dad. He said that he would never tell me how to live my life because he knows that I am a different person than he. But he will always be around to support me in whatever I choose in life. And he trusts my choices because he knows that he and the others in our family gave me a firm foundation. We talked about my summers with his parents. He said the first time that he sent me there, others told him that I would absolutely hate being stuck in rural Alabama. But I didn't. And I told him why I loved it there so much even though it was so different from being in the Bay Area. And my younger cousin? Well, by the time she came along, our grandfather was dead and our grandmother was sick. She never got to experience the great kind of summers that I had. And I think that that would have made a world of a difference in who she is today.

Because today I snapped on her and told her what an inconsiderate, rude person I thought she is. It may have had something to do with the hour minimum she spends in the bathroom getting ready each day. I think my comment was something along the lines of, "You've never had to share a bathroom with someone else? If you had been my roommate in college, we would have had to have a chat." Or it may have been that she decided to borrow one of my tote bags -- without asking. Because if she had asked, I would have given her a bag. And this was after she had shut herself off in the bedroom Monday night until we left for our aunt's house on Tuesday because I had told her older brother on the phone about the scene at my dad's house. And he had a few words for her. But other than her drama, it was a wonderful day. Probably because for once someone else's behavior was more atrocious than mine. And I kind of like it that way.

Enough of the heavy stuff. On with the frivolity.

You Are Blitzen

Always in good spirits, you're the reindeer who loves to party down with Santa. Why You're Naughty: You're always blitzed on Christmas Eve, while flying! Why You're Nice: You mix up a mean eggnog martini.

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

What I think when I hear the news

I so lag. I was supposed to have posted this yesterday but yesterday? More about that on another day.

Warning: The second and third videos contain some graphic images.

Check out the choreography...



And what the heck. Let's throw what I have always thought to be the companion piece into the mix.



I thought this was the perfect way to end music week. The first song came on the radio while I was in the car on the way home Thursday night. Of course, I had to turn up the volume.

Both songs seem just as a fitting now as they did when Marvin first recorded them. And I thought it was only fitting to post all three videos videos. Because as an African American woman living in the United States, I have started to question if we are not that far away from the images depicted in the last two videos.

My parents grew up in the segregated South. They did not have "regular" contact with non-Blacks until they moved to California after graduating college -- a year before I was born. And then my parents divorced when I was eight. In many ways it was the best thing for me. While my father has many friends who are not Black, they are not his "best friends." Without my father's narrow views of the world present, the home in which I grew up was one filled with diversity. When I was in undergrad, my mother would have the "orphan" Christmas at our house. The majority of the folks present were not Black. Heck. Some of them were even Jewish. And so I learned about different people. And I would say that I learned to accept them but that would be ridiculous. How can you learn to love people who seem to love you unconditionally? You don't learn because it is just a fact of life. I loved that we were different and yet still the same. Many of these people were my mom's co-workers who were from other parts of the country. And they were about halfway between my mom and me in age. So I will always think of them as being older siblings -- the ones I never had.

I often asked my mother when I was growing up if she believed that the world was a better place. She always answered, "Yes." Now my mother is lot more hesitant in her response. And that pains me deeply.

The main event

This year has been all about doing things a little differently. For one thing, I was kind of tired of the turkey thing. I was planning on trying a duck recipe until I read the reviews on the recipe. So I went for my second choice.


Pork roast with cornbread-poblano stuffing.


And I always have to have some kind of green beans. These are indeed with pine nuts.


And sweet potatoes. But this year I went for a roasted recipe.


Who says that you can't have cranberries if you aren't having turkey?

And I really love cranberries, so I opened that jar of relish that someone gave me long ago as well.

The roast was supposed to be a crown roast but after Frenching it, I just wasn't in the mood for all the other work. The sweet potatoes (OK. So I really used garnet yams.) were surprisingly wonderful. I would have never thought to combine all of those flavors in one dish. Overall, it was a rather satisfying meal. And now, I'm going to take a nap. And then read some more of my book.

Starting things off

... or how I begin to torture y'all for a few days.



Years ago when I decided that I had forgotten who I really was, I made one important decision. That I would start making my own traditions and would stop letting others dictate what I should be doing. The easiest of these was Thanksgiving.

When I was in college, I never came home for Thanksgiving. It seemed silly to pay for a plane ticket for a long weekend when I'd be going home in a couple of weeks for the much longer winter break. Besides by then, my mother was never home for Thanksgiving. And things were still pretty strained between me and my dad. I also argued that in the relative quiet around campus, it was easy to get a jump on studying for finals. By my junior year, I had started cooking the traditional meal for myself.

By the time that I returned to California after deciding to leave law school, I had spent at least six Thanksgivings completely on my own. Things were better with my dad and so each year he insisted that I show up. After a couple of years, I got tired of spending three to four hours on the road though. Because although things are now better between me and my dad, I am not particularly fond of my stepmother's family. Now I only go up for Christmas. But even when I was doing the drive, I began to miss having leftovers at home. I mean that is the best part of the holiday, in my opinion.

So I started cooking again. And by this time, I had acquired quite a few cookbooks and cooking magazines. Cranberry sauce from the can? Nope. I should make my own. Turkey? Nah, let's try a duck recipe. Makes much more sense for one person than a big ole turkey. And besides, I also get the opportunity to partake of one of my favorite pastimes -- list-making.

Now I spend the day at home alone. And I like it that way. I cook loads of food. I read some books. (And if I don't already have enough books around, I have been compiling yet another list of more stuff that I would like to read via Project Gutenberg.) Maybe knit a little. All in all, it is a stress-free day of relaxation for me. (Yes, cooking is relaxing.) And so this year, I decided to take the whole menu concept a little further. This year there will be appetizers and a soup course.


Blue Cheese and Carmelized Onion Squares.


Baked Oysters with Bacon and Leeks.


Pumpkin and Shrimp Bisque.

I made up the squares on Monday because I figured that they would keep fine. They did. Last night I made a small amount of the oysters to make sure they were as tasty as I thought they would be. I also made the soup but only cooked enough of the shrimp for tasting/photographic purposes. I liked all three but I think the oysters were my favorite. Probably because they contain two of my absolute favorite ingredients -- bacon and cheese.

Tonight will be work on side dishes, marinating meat, and dessert. Because there is always dessert.

And now another part of my tradition is that my aunt usually helps me to consume some of the leftovers on Friday. I know that this is something that I will continue to do for years to come. And maybe one day I'll get wild and crazy and stop being such a hermit and actually invite other folks over. But we don't want to get too crazy there. But if some of y'all are hungry and in the area over the weekend, let me know. I'll probably have some leftovers for you as well.

Everyone's Irish today

It's been some time since I've posted a quiz but the holiday ones always get me.

You Are A Fig Tree

You are very independent and strong minded. A hard worker when you want to be, you play hard too. You are honest and loyal. You hate contradiction or arguments. You love life, and you live for your friends, children, and animals. A great sense of humor, artistic talent, and intelligence are all gifts you possess.

What's Your Celtic Horoscope?

And how will I be spending my day? Probably at home. Because I'm not in the mood for Amateur Night. In the Bay area there are three of these a year. Amateur Nights I mean. And I think I gave up my amateur standing years ago.

But folks -- Queenie -- have been twisting my arm and now that there is no longer cat hair on my floor, I think I deserve a cocktail -- or two.

Putting the guard back up

So if you're reading this and have been reading for sometime, you were not scared off by the last post. I hate taking photos and rarely do so. But Queenie twisted my arm. So we each took a photo with our cellphones. (The only digital camera I own is a video camera. Fantastic stills but a little bulky. And I haven't heard any of you complain about the photos I have posted from my phone. And if you did, we'd just throw you into the dungeon.) And then we sent the photos to each other so that we would have comparison/choice. I went with my photo because of the looks on our faces even though in my photo I have serious waddle action going on. But other than that it looks like me. Because I only wear make-up when I go out. I stopped wearing make-up daily when I left college. I've been told that this action has helped in the anti-aging as well. I am sure that taking care of myself (physically) after a night out also helps. I am more likely to cook after a night out than any other time. Because one must ensure that one receives the proper balance of salt, grease, and carbs.

By the way, I tend to write posts in advance. It gives me time to contemplate whether I actually want to post. Kind of like the last post. I probably would have posted a photo sooner but I tend to run from cameras. But once I told Queenie the URL, I suddenly felt a little less anonymous. Even more so than when I told Grasshopper the URL. (By the way, Grasshopper has told me that she will watch the "kids" while I head off to Mexico to see my mom.) So I took the chance and posted a photo with which I was not completely happy. Because I have never really photographed well. In younger days, when I talked to agents, they mentioned runway. I was 15 to 20 pounds lighter than what you saw. And I like to think that I look much better in person.

I think that what made me change my mind about posting a photo that included myself was my decision to "jump bad." OK. So I had had several drinks when I made this decision. As is always the case. Basically Saturday night at the conference a coworker decided to video me and another coworker on her cellphone. She then threatened to send it to the assistant superintendant. I basically dared her to. OK. I may have done more than dare her. I figured that if she actually did, I would be able to talk my way out of it all. It's not like I said anything disparaging about him or the district. Lesson learned? Watch that woman. (Remind me to talk to Queenie about further sign language. You'd probably be surpised about the number of curse word phrases we can sign to each other while leaving everyone else around us perfectly clueless.) And my mentor also hinted that I should watch that woman. But another veteran teacher assured us that I did not say anything but in her defense. Basically we just got a little too ethnic. Possibly made some folks a little uncomfortable as a result. Stuff about Michael Richards, Jesse Jackson, and Mel Gibson. Ummm. What's the common denominator here?

Monday I spoke to my new mentor -- and a few other teachers. She chastised me for drinking over the weekend and then asked if I had not shared anything too personal. It seems that now that I have finally learned how to drop my guard, I need to put it back up. Thankfully the veteran teacher came through for me. She explained how she opened up the can of worms. I then explained that it was only natural that I have her back on everything. Apparently we were the only ones laughing at our statements. Her take is that we made everyone else a little uncomfortable. And that's why we were able to laugh while no one else could.

I was going to say something else but then I censored myself. I have always figured that someone who knew me well could find me. There would be some question if it was really me but without a photo it could not be confirmed. And so now the photo has been removed. Sorry. If you missed the photo, then email me and I will send the one I removed. Just had to do it for my piece of mind. As long as I am anonymous, I can truly speak my truth.

It all goes back to that tenure thing. In two years I will have tenure in this district. I have already starting to plan the tattoo that I will get to mark this event. And screw how much my mother screams about it. I mean some of the cooler folks on my dad's side of the family have approved of the whole idea. And these are the folks who usually have a stick stuck deep up somewhere.

Then again, on my dad's side of the family I have been branded the wild child. Kind of the "Paris" of the family. I can get away with a lot as a result.

And I have another reason to get excited about Christmas. It seems that my mom's friend, who owns a winery in Sonoma (You can buy their stuff at BevMo. Email me if you're interested.), will also be in Mexico along with her family at the same time that I am there. Her daughters are younger than I but we get along really well. (Notice my pronoun choice. This is the correct choice and is one of my pet peeves. When using "than," always use the nominative case for the personal pronoun.) I expect to have a great time for the holidays at this point.

Oh, and that workshop yesterday? Totally rocked. I am so going in today and trying out some of the things I learned yesterday.

Another double

I once more did my annual Turkey Day cooking. The difference is that this year I did not have to work on Wednesday so I decided to get a headstart on the cooking since everything tastes better as leftovers anyway.


I'm starting to think the holidays are all about meat and carbs. And don't worry. This was the taste sampler from Wednesday. Thursday I did actually add vegetables to the plate.

Another tradition is that I save the wings for my aunt. She headed over Friday for leftovers and a doggy bag. Now I have been obsessed with this one dessert since I had it at Baraka in February. Didn't know what it was called but knew the ingredients. Thank you Google for answering my question.


Galaktoboureko. You'll have to scroll down a ways to find the actual recipe.

And for those of you desperately waiting for it, here's this weekend's quiz. I'm off to look for turkey hash recipes. Of course that means I'll have to go grocery shopping because I have no eggs and what is hash without eggs?

You Were a Deer

Graceful and gentle, you appreciate beauty and balance. A giving soul, you are able to sacrifice for the greater good.

What Animal Were You In a Past Life?