Gluten-Free Irish Soda Bread Recipe

Tender, delicious gluten-free soda bread.

As with anything in life, you get a little, you lose a little.

I just wish Mother Nature would reverse the getting and losing when it comes to life post-menopause, Darling. I'm losing on top where I've never been particularly gifted, if you know what I mean. I buy bras in the teen section because the only adult bras that fit me are those pull-over-your-head uniboob running bras and Ladies, come on. These tight little torturers (once you squeeze into them, which could take a good seven minutes; I timed it once) are, shall we say, less than inspiring. If you're over a certain age and so is your husband, you know what I'm talking about.

So I'm losing oomph there and I'm gaining in the new mid-section of me I like to call Doris because it somehow seems appropriate. These love handles deserve a name, after all. A retro name like Kitty or Patty or Madge. Because they're evidently not intent upon leaving. They insist they're here to stay.

So since Doris won't go away, I try to coax her to skedaddle by eating lots of lettuce. And a rice cake or two. I tell myself, Bunny food rocks! But I lose even more of my boobs when I eat this way.

And Doris still sticks around.

Which brings me to bread. (What midriff conversation doesn't?) In this case, Irish soda bread. Yep. The classic, yeast-free quick bread. I'm not gonna give up a bread this delicious. Even for Doris. I'll just have to run up and down the block. A lot. In between taking iPhotos with my iPhone. That's my plan anyway.

That should work, right?

Gluten-Free Multi-Grain Crackers

Company worthy gluten-free olive oil multi-grain crackers.

This is a light, pleasantly crisp cracker that is flaky and tender- and you won't believe it's gluten-free and vegan. The texture is so elegant. Yet. The flavor retains an earthy touch of rustic, with a hint of... Dude. Cue soft focus. Suddenly I feel as if I'm in a varietal wine commercial, tossing my hair back (if I had tossable tresses, that is and not a sensible cheek length bob that refuses to toss) and laughing just so- with a tableaux of my closest, dearest multicultural friends, of course- revealing a gleaming set of perfectly capped teeth as I raise a globe of pinot noir into the rosy glow of a Napa Valley sunset to convey The Good Life.

The life without chin hairs and medical bills and neighbors who don't recycle.

All kidding aside (I don't sport a tableaux of polo shirt wearing best friends and I've never been to Napa Valley or for that matter, capped my teeth or Botoxed my frown lines leaving the perfect hint of crow's feet to crinkle when I smile so that you don't notice my eyebrows are frozen back to 1985) I  just might bake up a batch of these tasty crackers for Oscar night, whip up some Roasted Eggplant Tapenade and pop open a bottle of lovely Veuve Clicquot Brut.

Uh oh.

Roasted Vegetable Chowder

Craving a bowl of comfort? Have I got a soup recipe for you.

Frost was not on the pumpkin this morning. Not my pumpkin, anyway. Mine's long gone. Turned into a pie. Well, that and it was 80 degrees yesterday. Skateboarders careening by my apartment (at impressive speeds for a Fat Tuesday) wore nothing but Aloha shorts. Welcome to Santa Monica in February.

But what was on my pumpkin- if I still had one?

Pollen, dude. The trees are blooming, doing their sexy spring thang. Bursting. Co-mingling. Giving the bees something to buzz about. And I'm all about having a good time. I believe in love. And bees. But tree pollen, I have to ask you. Why so hostile?

Can't we all just get along?

I am thick and stupid from your assault. Not to mention, dripping from frontal orifices (not the most attractive trait sported by a woman of a certain age, I assure you- though how would you even know? You're a microgametophyte, for goddess sake).

Foto Fun : iPhone Photography

Warm Winter Salad with Roasted Banana Squash and New Potatoes

Roasted fingerling and tiny new potatoes 
and winter squash on baby salad greens.

After a long and restless night I am pondering potato salad and glitter. Sleep deprivation may be unpleasant but it often breaks loose the inertia of stalled imagination (who among us has the power of will to maintain the status quo of the literal, linear world after a scant teaspoon of sleep?). In my experience it is not prudent to ignore gifts of imagination and whimsy. If one begins associating fingerling potatoes and burlesque I say, go for it. You never know when such a spinning sparkling muse will visit again. 

Which is why I am sipping coffee and entertaining lurid flashbacks of the Vegas show that was the 2010 Grammy Awards.