Sesame chicken and noodle deliciousness

I have no pics of this dish because well….I AM A WINNAH!!!!! You’ll just have to trust me on this one. And please, do us all a favor and read the whole thing. I had no intention of blogging this until I said “I cooked!!!” and this general badass said she wanted the recipe.

Recipeish.

Whatever you wanna call it. I proclaim it’s deliciousness, and you don’t NEED no stinkin’ pictures of FOOD good LORD people what’s WRONG with you??!!??

It all started with Aiming Low. We all know I like to have some achievable goals, y’all.

1 lb noodles, cooked – I used angel hair because my kids like skinny noodles. Pick whatever floats your boat as long as it’s a pound o noodles. Fettuccine, linguine, you could even use ramen (though my tummeh churns at the thought).

Dress those lovely noodles with

1/2 C soy sauce (I used Bragg’s Liquid Aminos though.)
1/3 to 1/2 C sesame oil
1/3 C sugar
1/4 C sesame seeds – toast ‘em iffin it thrills your soul. I didn’t this time because I used dark sesame oil.

Shake, whisk, and otherwise make a dressing out of those four ingredents. Last night when I made them I was SURE that 1/2 C sesame oil was waaaay too much for angel hair pasta; the noodles were guhREASY. Today when I whipped ‘em out to add in the REST of the goodness, they weren’t quite so bad but I didn’t add any other sesame oil either.

Set the noodles aside to soak up all that tasty tastiness. This time I let it sit overnight – but I had a small bowl before sticking them in the fridge.

It had to be done. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice my thighs made for you.

OH!!!! Two green onions *minimum*. Slice those delicate lovelies from the bottom up to the tough green stems.

Do not do what my child did: I told him the green leaves were tough and oniony. He immediately chomped, and then spent the next 20 minutes spitting green bits into the trash can and shouting BLECH BLECH EEW EEW EEW MOMMIE YOU TWICKED ME!!!!

Because telling a six yr old “don’t eat that” is an invitation to stuff your mouth, apparently.

I diced up two frozen chicken thighs (boneless & skinless) and cooked ‘em through in my trusty cast-iron skillet, then tossed in steamed broccollllli and cauliflower. And I really REALLY wish I’d added shredded carrots and red peppers.

Yes, there are a gracious plenty of leftover noodles.

I planned it that way.

Now I don’t hafta heat up the kitchen for delicious nomz.

A Friday Ramble

Y’all know I started school again, right? Cue Winter Stormageddon 1, 2.0, and potentially 2.5. I’ve been on campus once. (Did I say that Satan would need a snowblower before I went back there? I don’t remember….but it would explain a bit.)

I love scooba running. It smells like I’m not pushing a mop!!!!!

I never thought I’d hear the words “National Enquirer” and “Pulitzer Prize” in the same sentence. Gawker covers why they should win it. While I agree that they /qualify/ for the Pulitzer, I’m quite positive they won’t win it.

My boys do not love weather extremes. Spring and Fall find them happily outside screaming their heads off. Summer and Winter? Newp, nu-uh, not happening, noway. I couldn’t get them to go outside right now if I paid them to. And yes, I had cash in hand…

And speaking of my boys, my wild wonderful boys….tell me something. How do you (specific, not general) clean their toothbrushes after one too many swordfights that ended with the loser crying and his toothbrush in the floor (eew) or in the sink that needed to be rinsed (because it’s full of toothpaste and spit)? Right now the urge is to soak them in listerine, boil them, rinse again with peroxide, and then go out and buy whole new toothbrushes (except for that whole snow/ice thing that has me making all kinds of excuses against leaving the house while I *cough* do homework). (It does go without saying that a toothbrush that falls in the toilet is automatically trashed isn’t it? Oh just the thought makes me gag…)

And speaking of homework, one of my Soc classes requires blog entries. I find that both wonderful and ironic, given the fact that My Sainted Mama is CONVINCED that I’m addicted to the computer*.

I finally relented and let the dog in the house to sleep. Yes, she has a dogloo. With a bed. I’m not really sure WHAT I was thinking, but we now have an indoor/outdoor doggie.

I found out that replacing the keyboard on my laptop is a five-minute job (once I get the parts). (Not plug and play, y’all. A whole new LAPTOP keyboard.)

And this concludes our afternoon ramble. Please return your trays and seats to the upright position, make sure your seatbelt is fastened and your crap is put up before you return to reality.

Bye!!!!

PS – I am computer addicted. When I’m not at work. Or folding laundry. Or cleaning the bathrooms. Or reading. Or shoveling snow. Or mowing the yard. Or shopping.

PPS – I’ve spent the entire day in my jammies. It’s been heavenly. And relaxing.

Progress on the room

Oh look, it’s not a tweet!!!

This is the room, halfway done. You won’t be seeing pictures of the before because…

eew. eew eew eew eew eew.
because I didn’t TAKE any pictures of a fifteen-year old CARPET for pete’s sake what is WRONG with you people??!!??

But tonight, my friends…tonight I have a real treat for you.

The Artist in the Room

Joe insisted on modelling for us. But if you look to the left of the picture, you’ll notice something that looks…not quite right.

The Artist and his Handiwork

Like any responsible adult would, I left the paint can open so that last little drop could dry out and I could toss the can in the trash. And then I went to work.

How stupid of me.

What I *should* have done was toss the paint supplies in the back of the truck and let them bake six miles away from home, in the bright sunshine.

Safe from six year old boys who want to HELP YOU MOMMY! and beam up at you with pride.

Look at that face. Just LOOK at it! Isn’t that the sweetest mix of nonchalant “I know I’m busted but I’m still CUTE!!!” you’ve ever seen?

Yeah.

And then Daniel wanted to get in on the photo-taking action. He’s so THRILLED with the camera in his DSi that I’m seriously contemplating getting him a point & shoot for his next birthday.

He opened it up, got the stylus ready to hit the “capture” button….

and this happened…

The End of the Artist.

The End.