Category Archives: Uncategorized

NaCHO Nachos, OUR Nachos

Something that helps keep relationships strong is sharing the same taste in food. Last night was my turn to fix dinner, so when Stacey texted me from Wegman’s wanting to know what my plan was for dinner, I immediately replied, “Either nachos or quesadillas.” (I had already asked her to pick up a bag of grated cheddar.)

After several texts back and forth, we had decided on nachos with onions, salsa, cheese, sour cream, and guacamole. I prefer to add chicken, but that’s what we had Wednesday night, and neither of us was in the mood for leftovers.

One of Staceys texts wanted to know about the sauce we had in the refrigerator door. She had typed “salsa,” but her over eager autocorrect stepped in and what I got was “What about the Saudi in the refrigerator? Hot?”

I ate dinner in fear of the NSA sending Homeland Security to burst in on us.

Oh, and the salsa? Wegman’s own brand of peach-mango salsa is om-nom-nom yummy good!

The only downside to the dinner? The oven heats up the kitchen to the point where it’s almost unbearable. Sorry, but no. We have no microwave, so nachos have to be done in the oven. Fortunately, it’s starting to be autumn, which will mean lower temperatures. 

Which, in turn, will mean more baked goodies.

My Recipe

  • One bag of Tostito Scoops brand corn chips
  • 1 8-ounce bag of grated cheese. I use sharp cheddar, but the choice is yours
  • 1 small onion, chopped (we use Vidalia onions)
  • Salsa
  • Guacamole 
  • Diced fresh tomato 
  1. Cover two oven-proof plates with corn chips. Add onions to your taste. Cover with the shredded cheese.
  2. Put in a pre-heated 350F oven for about 15 minutes, or until the cheese has melted. Remove from oven.
  3. Add salsa, tomato, sour cream, and guacamole to taste.
  4. ENJOY!
This is my last-minute recipe. Normally I’d add either some ground cumin, or some chopped cilantro. I’ve also been known to sprinkle lime juice over it all.
My nachos go very well with Negro Modelo beer.
Some people like to add garlic; I’m not one of them.

It’s 90° Outside. Who The Hell Wants To Cook?

Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day
The sun is up, the sky is blue
It’s beautiful and so are you
Dear Prudence, won’t you come out to play?
John Lennon

The problem with summer is the heat. Specifically, I live in a flat with a view to the east. That means that the sun has thee entire morning to heat up this side of the building. The building is also well-insulated, and that means it’s usually cooler inside than out. So I don’t open my windows until the late evening when the temperature has dropped.

So it’s not easy to get inspired to cook or bake. And that translates to being less than inspired to write on either of those topics. I’m trying to get inspired, and if I do, I’ll post something worthwhile.

On Orlando, And Other Atrocities

Today’s post is something my friend Sarah posted on Facebook. It speaks for itself.

“My mother texted me this morning. After asking how our trip was, she said the following:

“And please please please be careful when you are out anywhere that you and friends have gathered! I was shocked and sickened by what went on in Orlando…not to mention, scared for you! I love you!!”

I told her that Julia and I are an old married couple and don’t go out clubbing, because, well, I needed to say something to reassure her.

Because, how do you explain to your mother what it’s like to have to be careful all the time?

How do you explain that going home to Ohio makes you anxious because, what if you kiss your wife in public without thinking about it prior to – because, heaven forbid, you love each other – and it happens to be in front of someone who thinks it’s an abomination?

How do you explain that when you’re on a family vacation to somewhere like Tennessee, outside of your hotel, you and your wife silently agree it’s safest to pretend to be best friends or sisters because you’re in unfamiliar territory?

How do you explain that when you plan trips and know you’ll have to drive through small, rural towns you don’t know, that the thought that you might need to get gas or find a restroom in those unknown places gives you a near panic attack because you’ve convinced yourself that the person with the Bible verses littering their car will immediately know you’re gay and take great pains to make sure you know you don’t belong there?

How do you explain that, on your very first date with a girl – a euphoric, wonderful thing where you were awkward and nervous and just all around kind of stupid like a love-struck teenager – that someone saw you talking. Simply talking. And felt the need to scream “DYKE” at you?

How do you explain the feeling of how that immediately stole the wind from your fresh-out-of-the-closet sails and reminded you that you needed to be careful, that you couldn’t let your guard down?

How do you explain how completely fucking liberating it was to go to a gay club for the first time. Overwhelmed and self-conscious, but also so sure that these were YOUR PEOPLE and at last you were home?

How do you explain that this attack shakes you to your core because this is the stealing of the safe haven that LGBTQIA+ clubs have always been. That the places where you weren’t afraid to truly be you – no mask, no worrying about what others think – are now tainted and you feel like you need to be even more on guard anyplace your community gathers?

How do you explain that every time you meet a new person, you have an anxious knot in your stomach because you don’t know how they’ll react about your “wife, Julia”. And you war inside yourself about how you’ll react if they aren’t approving. How every interaction can sometimes feel like a choice to be an outspoken activist or to keep yourself safe?

How do you explain that, as a middle-class white woman who can easily pass for straight with little effort, you often get overwhelmed thinking about how hard it must be to be any other combination of gender, race and economy, and that you get mad at yourself a lot because, in that way, you have it pretty easy, so shouldn’t you just stop whining?

How do you explain that the words of caution and staying safe are so, so hollow, because you’ve ALWAYS had to be safe. You’ve always had to be aware?

How do you explain that when you’re in a town like Northampton or Provincetown and you can hold hands with your wife without thinking first, and you can say I love you without worrying about who might overhear, it feels like a goddam miracle and you never want to leave?

How do you explain that you’re sobbing while you type this because everything has finally hit you and it all feels so goddam PERSONAL, even though it’s so far removed from your actual reality?

I am queer. I am blessed and lucky to be married to the absolute love of my life. I lead a life full of so many wonderful people that it almost feels like an embarrassment of riches how lucky I am.

So how do I explain that, yes mom, I’ll be careful, but it’s not me you have to worry about.

It’s the people who hate me for being happy. Who hate me for being in love. The people who have weapons of mass destruction and are driven to use them.

They’re who you need to worry about, mom.

I’m always careful, mom.

But, surely, so were those we lost in Orlando.”

Sara Hickman-Himes

A New Recipe

I just posted my recipe for Bread Machine Focaccia on my Recipe page. And I’m such a bread slut that I made a pan of it yesterday and ate the whole thing by bedtime!


Well, THAT Was Yummy!

The 7-Up biscuits recipe is definitely a keeper. Only 4 ingredients, and I cheated on one of them. Here’s the recipe:

7-Up Biscuits


  • 4 cups Bisquick
  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 1 cup 7-up
  • 1/2 cup melted butter


  • Pre-heat oven to 425 degrees F.
  • Mix Bisquick, sour cream and 7 up. (Dough will be very soft – which is fine)
  • Knead and fold dough until coated with your baking mix.
  • Pat dough out and cut biscuits using a round biscuit or cookie cutter (mason jars or other kitchen items work great for this too).
  • Melt butter in bottom of cookie sheet pan or 9×13 casserole dish.
  • Place biscuits on top of melted butter and bake for 12-15 minutes or until brown.

7Up biscuits

And that’s it. Pretty simple, huh? Oh, and what I said about cheating? I swapped out WalMart’s in-house brand baking mix for the Bisquick. It’s all good!