Cheese Sticks and a bad attitude

Yesterday Little Chef was a grumpy little thing.  I now realize it was because he was coming down with something because he had a case of the pukeys this morning.  He had to call his Tante Lexi and tell her all about it because apparently that’s what we do in this family.  Monday morning, I got a call from my 3-year-old nephew Jaxon and he told me all about how he had just barfed… in his mommy’s bed.  Yes, in his mom’s bed.  Gross.  Lexi told me afterwards that he was happily playing, went in to her room, and proceeded to blow chunks all over her bed.   And then demanded to call me and tell me about it RIGHT AWAY.  I guess our week a few months back of puking together bonded us for life as barf buddies.

But back to yesterday.  Little Chef was grumpy, I had a list of work to do for clients a mile long and a piss poor attitude.  I was in one of those moods.  And the constant nattering of whiny toddler voice and hockey stick throwing was not helping.  I was in a funk.  The kind of funk where you decide that “damnit I don’t want to be grateful anymore. Or thankful for what I have.  I don’t want to think about the people who have less than I do, I want to gripe about how completely unfair it is that there are people who have so much more.  I want nice things, and money in the bank, and my house paid off, and a room for each of my children, and a fancy warm vacation, and a cleaning lady, and a nice boob job.”  But sulking did not in fact materialize any of my wishes for me.  Apparently my cleaning lady turned right back around when she realized I don’t actually have the finds for a cleaning lady…  So I decided that instead of sulking about my imaginary cleaning lady I would cook.  Because as you have probably guessed by now I have a strict policy of treating my emotional problems with warm carbs.

Little Chef peeking in bread maker

So Little Chef and I decided to make cheesy garlic sticks and marinara dip.  Basically the homemade version of crazy bread from Little Caesars.  He was really stoked to fill the dough ingredients in to the bread machine, and then truly devastated when I told him we had to shut the lid and wait for an ETERNITY (just over an hour) for it to be ready.  To ease his wounded soul, I let him wash dishes for an hour while I cleaned the house and muttered fake words to myself in a made up accent.  {See I do have a cleaning lady; she just happens to be one of my personalities gone wrong}

Little Chef doing dishes 2Little Chef doing dishes


We then rolled out our dough, topped it with cheese, garlic and oil and popped it in the oven.  Here is the recipe if you care to indulge in your own version of a carb coma this fine weekend.

Little Chef testing dough .jpg

Cheesy garlic sticks

3 cups flour

1.5 cups warm water

2 teaspoons yeast

¾ cup olive oil

1 pinch salt

1 tablespoon honey

3 small garlic cloves minced

1 cup mozzarella or parmesan cheese

Extra olive oil for brushing

Pizza or tomato sauce for dipping

1)  If you have a bread maker throw all the ingredients, press the dough cycle and park your butt on the couch with a glass {or bottle} of wine until it is done.  If not, mix all ingredients in a stand mixer with the dough attachment and mix on low until a soft ball forms.  Let mix for 3 more minutes.  Cover and let sit in a warm spot for 45 minutes.

2)  Divide the dough in to two pieces and roll out to a ½” thick.  Brush with olive oil, sprinkle with garlic and score with a knife in to “stick” shapes {or whatever shape your toddler decides is a grand plan} and sprinkle with cheese.

3) Bake at 375 degrees for 10-14 minutes or until cheese is melted and browned.  Remove, split in to sticks and dip in to sauce!

Little chef eating cheese sticks and marinara.jpg

Happy weekend my foodies and mommies!  {86 days until my due date and my wine consumption can resume}

2 Comment

  1. shockinglydelicious says: Reply

    Hilarious! Well…fromt he outside looking in, of course. I’m sure it wasn’t so hilarious to be you that day. 🙂

  2. shockinglydelicious says: Reply

    Hilarious! Well…fromt he outside looking in, of course. I’m sure it wasn’t so hilarious to be you that day. 🙂

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