7 DAYS or is that 6?: Bah Hum Mus

I’ve been MIA the last few days from my 12 Days of Christmas Blogs, so let me give you a little background to my week.

So much Christmas Cheer has been spread ALL THROUGHOUT MY HOUSE! Christmas Cheer was spread on the living room carpet. It was splattered on the bedroom rug and piled on the sunroom rug. A few nights ago, my Sheltie (the one with the ultra- sensitive stomach) pried the lid off the candy dish during the night and devoured about a cup of milk chocolates. Not enough to cause him serious harm, but I spent several days cleaning up these “recycled” chocolates, all “decorated” with the colorful foil wrappers that had also been ingested.

HO! HO! HO!

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Still, by Monday night, I was definitely in the Christmas Spirit. A picture of domesticity, I was in the kitchen, wearing my favorite red paisley apron that a dear friend brought me years ago from Provence. The Charlie Brown Christmas Album played loudly in the room next door. (No one else was home!!!) And I was JUST beginning one of my FAVORITE parts of the holidays- creating goodies from my kitchen!

This year, in addition to the cookies and sweets I usually make, I chose to make a healthy treat for my friends: Homemade Hummus. This recipe is from my good friend, ceramist and entertainer extraordinaire, Tammy Milani of Milani Home http://milanihome.com/. Check out her incredible tableware and art for the kitchen.   This hummus is so easy and inexpensive to make, and filled with delicious nutty flavor. $10-12 of ingredients yielded 12 cups of delicious hummus which I split among several 1 and 2 cup containers. 

Tammy Milani’s Traditional Hummus http://www.milanihome.com/recipes/hummus.html

2-16 oz. cans chick peas

5 medium cloves of garlic

1 1/2 cups good Tahini Paste ( always in a jar, never in a can)

1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 teaspoon salt

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

Drain one can of chick peas and reserve juice of the other can. Combine the garlic and chick peas in a food processor, adding a little lemon juice so that the chick peas are moist enough to blend with the garlic and blend until smooth. Blend in the tahini paste, more lemon juice and salt. Finally blend in the remaining lemon juice. ( I usually begin to taste test while adding the remaining lemon juice, sometimesI only use around ¾ cup.)

Tip From Tammy: Real Hummus should be smooth and creamy so add a little of the reserved liquid as needed to make sure it moves around in the food processor without appearing too thick. 　

In between the batches of hummus, I am also making batches of my sinful banana nut muffins for my friend at work’s birthday and simultaneously writing my 6 Days of Christmas Blog. I went into the kitchen to check the progress of the 2^nd batch of muffins, when HORROR OF HORRORS!!!, the first batch that had been left on the countertop to cool were completely MIA! The dogs paced around the kitchen nonchalantly as if to say, "Who? Me?" They knew NOTHING about the missing muffin’s whereabouts.

"OH NOOOooo!!" I scream out loud, sounding like Mr. Bill “WHO DID THIS???” I reach down, grab each of the dogs muzzles, and in a reversal of pet/human behavior- I begin sniffing their faces for the scent of bananas- Never mind that I “look” like the one who is "BANANAS!!!" Since I lack the dogs’ Sniffing Superpowers, I cannot tell for sure who is the culprit, but my bet is on the old dog, Shredder, my Schnauzer- Aussie mix. I went back to the computer and mid blog, it died! For reasons beyond my control, it has taken me several days to get the computer up and running again, so let me pick up where I left off!

~

As with all great mysteries, The Mystery of the Muffin-Eater was finally solved yesterday, when my son had to get up “early” to take old Shredder to the groomers, located about 35 miles away near our former home. Let me add that my son

• A) hates to get up “early”


• B) drives with a lead foot and


• C) drives with the music turned waaaaaaaay up, leaving little doubt that he REALLY is my son, after all.

He was about ten miles from his destination, and suddenly Old Shredder, overcome by the heavy metal, movement, and muffins retches forward in a great upheaval of mixed muffins and bloated dog food. He heaves piles across the black fabric interior of my son’s car. He spews the vile mixture on to my son and his clothing, the console, the I Pod and its cord, the seats and floor boards. Evidently no surface was safe. All was covered with foaming blobs of my fantastic Banana Nut Muffins and my son, the dramatist, became hysterical.

He called me at work, shrieking into my ear. The stink was horrendous, he said, and he had to roll the windows down to get some fresh air just to make it to his destination. When he walked into the groomers, looking like he had walked out of the bottom of a three day old Dunkin' Donuts vat,  the groomer helped him by supplying him with a trash bag and roll of paper towels. He got most of the solids up, except for what was drooled down between that poorly designed bit of inaccessible space of the console between the two front seats, a virtual dead man’s land of crumbs and crevices that defy the human reach. As my son went on and on describing to me each sordid detail, his dry humor and flair for the dramatic suddenly struck my as oddly humorous, especially given my past few days dealing with the "Chocolate Incident". It wasn't funny and I tried so hard not to laugh, I REALLY did, but the harder I tried to hold it in, the less I was able to... I first began to giggle, then laugh and ultimately, something like a broken cry. About that time, my assistant at work noticed the commotion.  Being the terrible person that I am, I switched my cellphone to speaker mode so that she could hear what had happened as to see why I was in tears over the copier. “You are LAUGHING!”, my son accused. “Mother, I can’t believe you are laughing at THIS!” And of course he was right…. “No honey”, I lied, “I am just so… SO UPSET (Sob! Sob! Sob) that this happened to you. It‘s so (ha, ha) HORRIBLE...

He didn’t buy it for a minute…

On the way home, he stopped by a friends house to borrow a clean shirt. The friend’s mom took one look at him and said “I’ll bet your mom is going to write about THIS!” (Hey, here's a shout out and thanks to our friend Sandra Marshall!) Then, my son came by my office so I could accompany him to the Auto Bell to get the interior cleaned out. Never mind that I had originally planned to use my lunch hour to get the computer repaired. All moms, working or otherwise, know our kids come first, emergencies or otherwise. As we approached the attendant’s booth, I explained what had happened and that we needed the interior cleaned out rrrrrreally well. “Ugh,” mumbled the young attendant, “If it’s where a human got sick I have to call the manager….”“No,NO...” I said.”It’s not that at ALL. LOOK. This is NOT from a human. It’s basically dog food. Regurgitated dogfood. (I did not mention the muffins as that would complicate matters even more. ) “Look all we need is the mats shampooed, a really good cleaning, especially around the console...There’s a really good tip in here for someone if you can just get it cleaned up."

If I were 20 years younger, this plea would have been accompanied by a wink or a seductive gesture, but at 49 years old, all I have is cash and not MUCH of that…

“Well...OK”, he conceded and voila, $60 later plus a $10 tip, the car was immaculately cleaned.

Then today, HOORAY!I got the computer problem resolved ON MY LUNCH HOUR, only to have my son call me with car problems again! He was driving to go grocery shopping for me this evening when the car began to sputtter and shudder to a stop. He called me roadside where at least he got off the road safely til we could have the car towed to the dealers. Did I say we just had to pay a fine for his driving with expired tags? And that he just needed new tires?

HO! HO! HO! Yes, that’s the spirit.

So, from the comfort of my warm home, dirty but with no fresh piles of excrement, chocolate, muffin or otherwise, I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

xxoo, Susan