Six Cup Salt Crusted Pork
Don’t be scared. Don’t close your eyes. I promise this recipe is not as crazy as it looks. And I promise it’s easy. And the pork isn’t salty. And you will love it. And re-pin it. And if you don’t know what it means to “Pin It” then we need to talk.
Perfect Roasted Garlic Mashed Potatoes
I seriously LOVE mashed potatoes. IF they are done right. None of this “keeping the skin on with a smidge of butter and regular milk” crap. If you’re going to make them, please, please, PLEASE make them right. So that with each bite your eyes roll back in your head and your tummy screams, “comfort.” (Hey, it better, since the next time you put on your cute-jeans, it’ll scream “why did you eat so many potatoes!?”)
Hubby’s Note: Bless my wife’s heart. I am lactose intolerant, and I can’t stand potatoes. Though I’m convinced this is due to my Irish ancestors eating only potatoes for years. This dish is my kryptonite. I would rather take meals and bath duty for my two girls for a month than eat these potatoes. But every person she’s ever served it to actually levitates from the table while they eat it. I’ve got dents in the ceiling to prove it. So…I guess they’re pretty amazing.
Filet Mignon with Whiskey Cream Sauce
This past weekend I had my first mommy getaway in almost a year. My brother in law is getting married in October and I went on the bachelorette party for my soon to be mini sister-in-law. I say mini because she’s a beautiful petite woman. I was so excited to spend the weekend with her, her friends and of course my other sister in law, Kellie.
I don’t know what it is about when Mom’s go out of town but Murphy and his damn law inevitably show their faces and the children get sick. Here I am sitting on Descanso beach in Catalina with 12 really fabulous ladies and my brand new iphone gives its legendary ring of a new text message. Excited to see a picture of my darling girls, I am instead greeted with, “Buggies has a fever of 102.” Ugh. Really? 102??? Several hours and several text messages later, I’ve decided to stay on the island rather than helicopter myself for a bazillion dollars to my doorstep. As the night goes on, she’s not feeling better and my guilt level starts to rise. My downright out of this world husband insists he’s got everything under control through the cries from the girls and the panic in his voice.