Minecraft sucks

My Minecraft Creeper cake for Ethans 9th birthday.

Cha. Cuz’ I’m seriously the worlds most awesomest freaking mommy ever!!  

This mamajamma is four, yup, four! 1, 2, 3, 4 layers of marbled dutch chocolate and french vanilla cake with hand-dyed, (pretty certain I gave myself carpal-tunnel syndrome) square-cut pieces of my homemade marshmallow fondant. {use it, it’s the best tasting one I’ve come across, recipe below} Took for-freaking-ever! BUT when the boy saw it, his giant smile and super-happy-squeezey-hug made all the work totally worth it! (kinda. my wrist still hurts pretty damn bad)

16376_10205047496577116_8071192120924289793_n The party was a huge hit. Of course I’m not really sure how to just make it simple, so I researched all things Minecraft. I realized a little too late that most of the shit had to be handmade. What?! Who does that?! NO ONE SELLS IT. Anywhere. I looked. Everywhere. Gah. So ya, shot my own damn foot with this one.
After creating and coloring and cutting and caking (meh, shoosh, it’s a C-word, it flows) for two weeks, it was time to conquer the cake. I was going to make this Creeper Cake my bitch.
Oh and I so did.
It was all like, “Please Sarah, don’t be so awesome at making me, I’m so scared of your great success and I’m way intimidated by your skill set.” and I was like, “Ya, that’s right Creeper Cake. Stand down. Let me bake and layer you like you deserve it! Then I’m gonna cool and frost you Creeper cake. Oh hell yes I am.”
Needless to say, the above cake was put in its place and accepted me as it’s master baker. Eeeewww. master. baker. masterbaker. I just went there. With cake.
I’m perverted. But the cake was amazing.
All perversion aside, here’s the best ever fondant recipe. I will add Peppermint extract or Almond extract, or Rasberry or Orange, etc for taste. Just depends on what i’m creating it for 🙂
Marshmallow Fondant

Marshmallow Fondant

  • Prep 29 m

  • Ready In 8 h 30 m

Recipe By:Kiele Briscoe
“This is a very easy (and a little sticky at times) way to make a delicious fondant. It’s great on cakes, cookies, or just for your little ones to play with! Leftovers will save in a tightly sealed container for a few weeks.”


  • 1/4 cup butter
  • 1 (16 ounce) package miniature marshmallows
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 2 pounds confectioners’ sugar, divided


  1. Place the butter in a shallow bowl, and set aside.
  2. Place the marshmallows in a large microwave-safe bowl, and microwave on High for 30 seconds to 1 minute to start melting the marshmallows. Carefully stir the water and vanilla extract into the hot marshmallows, and stir until the mixture is smooth. Slowly beat in the confectioners’ sugar, a cup at a time, until you have a sticky dough. Reserve 1 cup of powdered sugar for kneading. The dough will be very stiff.
  3. Rub your hands thoroughly with butter, and begin kneading the sticky dough. As you knead, the dough will become workable and pliable. Turn the dough out onto a working surface dusted with confectioners’ sugar and continue kneading until the fondant is smooth and no longer sticky to the touch, 5 to 10 minutes.
  4. Form the fondant into a ball, wrap it tightly in plastic wrap, and refrigerate overnight. To use, allow the fondant to come to room temperature, and roll it out onto a flat surface dusted with confectioners’ sugar.

Ice Cubes and Peanuts… that’s all you need to party!

I’m white. Doesn’t really matter, usually. But every now and then you find your happy white self in the middle of a dance floor at an After Party for a strange Hispanic boy that just graduated from High School. That’s when it matters. Oh, and it really only matters because you have now been labeled “la dama blanca loca” by the sixty-seven local Hispanic teens enjoying the party. Yup. The Crazy White Lady. But, jokes on them ‘cuz I already call myself that.

So I know this isn’t actually food I created, but the environment itself was seriously calling to me. It was just urging me to add this crazy-ass night to my blog. Food-Schmood. Plus, I’m totally going to talk about the food here at some point anyway, I would not allow you to miss that joy!

Rewind to the entry moment of said party… I did not know the Graduate. I did not know his sister. I did not know his family. In fact, I did not even attend his graduation. But here I am making an appearance at the After Party. I’m pretty much a stud at this point. I am a Party-Crasher. Hell ya. Crashing teen-oriented-family parties is what I do. I look around,  waiting for the right moment to make my approach. The F-Bomb echoes out from the DJ booth and I just know that’s my sign. Besides, a table decorated with “Congrats Grad” and “The party’s over Here” signs caught my eye and I was in motion, with my posse of two.
We sat and waited. Not sure what for, dinner maybe? Someone to get up and dance perhaps? We just waited. Polite, Obedient little mommies.

We visited. Each other. Sort of.                                                                                                                   Is this music too loud? Wait. Was the music too loud? what?! Can you hear me? Can they even hear me? Why am I freaking yelling? What the hell? I’m getting a headache. Am I that old already? Is anyone else trying to just read lips? Really, is this music too loud? Can you hear me? Why aren’t you answering me?                                                                                                                                    Why is there a random bowl of peanuts at this table?
They bring us plastic cups of ice. Jesus. We didn’t even get a table with pop at it. The people next to us got a 2 liter of pop at least. We eat the ice. The people behind me slowly stand and turn their table away from us. Crap. Did they get ice? Do they have peanuts? What is this night? We have ice cubes and damn Peanuts! I stare longingly into the silver glitter of the “the party’s over here” sign and dram of wonders that could be…
Then it hits me. Ice Cubes and Peanuts… that’s all you need to party!
No one’s dancing, so my posse aka “us mom folk” gotta go up and get it banging (you’re actually supposed to say bangin’ but I was trying to be grammatically correct). My daughter would be so proud (of the proper use of slang terms, not grammar. Love ya babe!) So the DJ is pleasantly informed of “what’s what” by my counterpart and BOOM! the Cupid Shuffle and that “Cha cha real slow, Criss Cross, Hands on your Knees, Hop three times” song came on, whew weeeee, that’s when the shit got real!!!
We were just a-hippin-and-a-hoppin with all sixty-seven teenagers! Bouncing around like the fools we are. No cares in the world. White or not. No problemo! When finally the last “Right foot now stop” rang out from the DJ booth, we knew it was time to take a booty break and enjoy our meal…
The food arrives. Let me tell you about how hard it was to decide where to begin with this. I really feel, deep in my heart, that any part of tonight could actually be the start of my story. I say this because I feel like the dinner we were served was more than worthy of its very own blog entry.

the lights dim, the mood is set by blaring curse words intermingled with fiesta-esque music, the dishes are served one patron at a time. Anticipation builds, my mouth begins to water…
The petite slice of brisket, glazed in its own juices, was beautifully accented by the ice cream scooped potato salad lump. The meal was plated ever so delicately on Styrofoam dishware. Finally, topped with just the slightest touch of a slice of freaking white bread. They took that one right outta my play book! I always say, the best way to fancy up any dinner? Slap some white bread on top of it.
Really. This happened. I Promise.
Now the peanuts and ice look more appealing to me. Damn it. Teasers. That’s what they are. Teasers.
~I later found out that a nearby church was selling brisket plates yesterday. Could these be the very same? Leftover church fundraising. That was our dinner on this ever-so-amazing of nights out? Awesome. It may have been served to me. Jesus on a plate. Shit. Great. Now I kinda feel like we need to pray or something. You feel that too? Should we take a minute~
One of my partners in crime leans in and screams over the loud-ass music, “What time is it?!” I thought I almost heard a hint of hopefulness in her voice.
Until I responded, “We’ve only been here an hour.” and I think I saw her die a little inside.


Above you shall witness the Complimentary Appetizers, if you will.  Those are in fact peanuts and not a bowl of chili like I first thought. Christine tasted them. definitely not chili. Besides, who serves chili at a Mexican Graduation After Party?                                      Come on people. Be realistic


Hot Chile Peppers really are hot. I’m dumb.

When the directions caution you to “use copious amounts of soap” when washing your hands, you know those Peppas are H-O-T Hot! I mean, What the Hell?! Why am I so WHITE? I’d title this entry, “Dear White friends” if I didn’t think it’d piss off at least one of my brown friends, ha! But crap, I never knew the importance of soap and the non-touching-of-ones-eyes-and/or-nostrils when cooking with hot chile peppers. I mean, REAL chile peppers, like from Mexico real. Like the kind you have to look up on Google because you’re white enough to never have used them before. In anything. Ever.

FYI, there are a butt-load of peppers out there too. Who knew? Not only am I learning about the benefit of copious use of suds but I am also educating myself in the World of Peppers. Life goal. Met.

So normally I change a recipe I follow. I tweak amounts and flip flavors and all sorts of fun stuff to make something into my very own. That being said, hot chile peppers are not a toy kids. They are not to be played with or fussed about. Do what your directions say. Exactly. So mainly out of fear for my life, I actually found a recipe that sounded delish and followed it to the T. I give crazy mad props where they are due, so please copy, tag, like, post, follow, etc my new Hero, Linda Stradley at http://whatscookingamerica.net/Appetizers/salsaverde.htm

and seriously, check out her post with the recipe I used to burn my face off with the best friggin’ Salsa Verde eva!!


Tomatillas! Coolest little guys ever
diced tomatillas, tasted a raw one, a little bitter, but meh, we shall see…
Hot Chile Peppers, broiled then washed, then chopped… and ew, my stove is naaaasssttyy!
these are the chopped chiles, I used rubber kitchen gloves after I rubbed my nose. BTW, do not rub your nose.
My beautiful Salsa Verde!!
…with chips makes it look even prettier! Almost close enough to taste!! 😉


Turning Brain Farts into Glitter!

So I’m hungry, surprise, surprise! The issue is all this healthy crap I have lying around. I. Want. Junk. Food. After opening the same cabinet forty-seven times and realizing nothing sweet is going to magically appear and jump into my belly, I seriously decide to make buttercream icing to dip grahams into. Um, yummy! Who does that?! I do! So at 2:30 in the freaking morning o’clock I whip up a batch of my go-to buttercream. All sorts of bad for ya stuff like Butter, mmm, and Powered Sugar, mmm, and Vanilla… wait, is Vanilla bad for you?? Note to self, Google, “Is Vanilla bad for you” end note to self… carrying on. After said icing is good and whipped, I go for the Honey Maid grahams and to my utter disappointment, there are none. Nada. Zilch. Big F-ing Zero! I mean, come on people! Where are my Graham Crackers?! What does a mommy have to do around here to get a freaking-A hit of some yummy-licious icing and grahams? Am I asking too much to be notified when these sort-of-a-cookie-sort-of-a-cracker like delicious treats are no more? Why oh why must I now be forced to finger-scoop my newly made icing?? Oh The Humanity!! Commence finger scooping.

I think I can, I think I can…

I’ve decided to blog. Yep. Me. I figured I’d put all my amazing vocabulary words to good use this way instead of wasting them on my Words With Friends app. Plus, it was either this or start bedazzling jean jackets like my mom did back in the 80’s… and don’t hate on my mom, she totally rocked the heck out of that rhinestone covered jean-wear! Love ya mom!

To be honest, I’m not really sure how to go about doing this though. Do I woo you just a little at a time until you’re completely enticed by my world, or do we just dive into my chaotic life and hope we both know how to swim?

Let’s start a little closer to today and then I will bob and weave all over the years with my baking and cooking and eating stories (so, ya, pretty much like any conversation you’ll experience with me). I do tend to ramble, so feel free to skim ahead when necessary. I also have a tendency to get “off track” when I remember another cool tid-bit of info you may be interested in (think, “Squirrel!”)  My hubby calls these my “commercial breaks” but somehow I always bring it back together in the end… even if it is two hours later! (this is where your extra need to scroll may come into play)

Shall we begin? Pictures with stories, my fav. I love pretty things, especially food!!

~Please note that the strategic placement of the Smart Water in the above photo is just that, strategy. Makes you think I’m a super-intelligent food connoisseur on a mission of greatness… clever, right? or just plain SMART?~