Thursday, December 16, 2010

chest colds, soup, and gingerbread men.

I have a dreadful chest cold. You know, the kind that makes you honk like a goose when you cough...or at least that's what happens to me. The kind that makes you want to curl up in a ball and shut the world out for days on end with some nice chicken noodle soup. Maybe watch some old Doris Day movies with that soup. Ugh. Unfortunately, life will let me do no such thing and so trudging on I go in my foggy state. Thankfully, I adore everything I do, otherwise I'd be pretty miserable right now.

I feel like there's a band wrapped around my chest. I know what I need, but I won't get any till Saturday when I go home. I need some Avgolemono soup.

That's quite a name isn't it? I mean, with a name like that, it should cure everything! And it does. It's the Greek "cure all" for basically any ailment that may have come upon you. My step mom is greek and this is a traditional greek soup made out of rice, chicken broth, lemon, and eggs. It is the most delicious soup to ever slide over anyone's tongue and I live off of it when I'm home sick and she's there to make it for me. Knocks chicken noodle soup totally out of the water! So, the goal is to not die (because chest colds are so deadly) before I can make it home to consume mass amounts of Avgolemono soup on Saturday.

Alright, today I tried to bake gingerbread men...again...frustration. As much as I like to bake, gingerbread men and I do not get along. They are constantly trying to run away from me...or I'm decapitating them...or they have limbs falling off here and there. Dreadful. The kitchen began to look like a gingerbread war zone after a few hours of trying to figure out how to get them to not fall apart at this altitude, even though I was using a "high altitude" recipe that came "highly recommended" on the internet. You just can't believe anything on the internet nowadays;-).

I eventually had somewhat of a successful batch. Well, their arms were a bit fat and sort of ran into their necks...but hey, you could at least tell what they were...and there were no arms, legs, or heads left lying about when all was said and done. Nor were there any headless cookies to speak of. Whew.

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