Alisa. 37. New Hampshire. Married for almost three years to this wonderful, funny, smart guy. Previously married. Went through in-vitro fertilization to have my five year old magical son Keegan. Stepmother to the charming Isabelle (6). Gushingly in love with our baby boy Harper(1). Policy Wonk and dreaded bureaucrat. Lover of fine cuisine, honeybees, truly romantic moments and the underdog.
Curried Beef Short Ribs

Note: I found this was more realistically four servings.

Finishing this dish with lime zest and juice brightens its rich flavors.

Yield 6 servings (serving size: about 3 ounces ribs, 2/3 cup rice, and about 2 1/2 tablespoons sauce)

2 teaspoons canola oil
2 pounds ...continue reading

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Alright, so there I was driving home and zoning out when for some strange reason I thought about flan. Yes, the custard with caramel on top. Then I started thinking about how long it has been since I've had flan. And how I never really liked it until we had it at this Brazilian restaurant in Lowell. Then I remembered the last time I had that flan. It was for my birthday two years ago. Erika and our coworkers threw me a surprise celebration/staff meeting picnic on the floor complete with that wonderful flan. I almost called her to tell her about my flan daydream. Then I remembered that I already called her and she didn't answer and if I kept calling her, well, that was borderline stalking. Not that we haven't practically stalked eachother by phone before. But I try to reserve that for really big news. And flan isn't quite an emergency.
When I arrived home I put flan out of mind. There was nothing on TV so I decided to watch one of my Ne*tflix movies. I had forgotten that Envy had arrived last week. There I was watching the movie and there IT was. What figures heavily into the plotline? Yup, flan. I have no idea what it all means but it's freaked me out.
What is freakier than that? A whole site devoted to the worship of flan.

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