Come Over Here, My Little Latke

There is nothing more boring, save maybe C-SPAN at 2am, than a lazy blogger talking about how out of the habit of blogging they've gotten. So prepare to yawn. I'm that lazy blogger. Not lazy per se. More like full blown swamped at work and ok, lazy and head-cold filled and deadline nuts. I'm forcing myself back here though, since posting one lonely time in the entire month of October is just embarrassing.

I have posts in my head. They just seem to swirl around up there instead of finding their way out of my fingers and onto the screen. I get home from work and I'm tired. So are you, right? I think this is a fairly common condition. So if I plan to ever blog consistently again instead of watching the Real Housewives of Whoreville and getting sucked into the couch when I get home I need to keep my brain engaged after work. Wait to drink the Pumpkin Hard Cider as a reward for writing an actual post instead of popping it open while cooking dinner and thereby drinking away all my desire to accomplish anything other than removing my pants, followed by going to bed at 9pm. I realize that this phrase makes me sound like I have a bit of a drinking problem or that somehow one hard cider increases my sexual promiscuity and sleepy/pantslessness. This is not entirely true. Entirely.

I haven't even cooked anything fancy and delicious in the last couple of weeks. Last night instead of making basic grilled salmon, baked sweet potatoes and a green salad for dinner I stepped it up a notch. Joe has an obsession with Photograzing over at Serious Eats (don't visit this site unless you plan to lose a few hours of your life) and he sends me recipes via email nearly ever day, sometimes several times a day. I have a special Google folder in my email just for these recipes. It's ridiculous and adorable and excessive (rather like the height of his hair right now, epic) and mildly irritating when you are hungry. Anyway, this recipe looked perfect and just complex enough to be rewarding but not too daunting on a Wednesday. Joe got the meal rolling by grilling the salmon and getting the latkes started while I diligently walked on the treadmill in the basement, watching Liz Lemon do something hilariously stupid and sadly relate-able.

I did doctor the recipe in a couple of ways including MORE CHEESE because this is always a good thing, and because the potatoes were taking so long to cook, too dry according to Joe, I poured some of the Pumpkin Cider I was drinking right in there. It was a sacrifice, but I was willing to make it for the latkes. I cooked off the alcohol but that spicy, fall flavor stuck around. And can I mention, cold latkes for lunch the next day? Still pretty fantastic. I might start celebrating Hanukkah style in December just to partake in these babies again.

Here I am, stepping it up for you, dear reader. Ok for us, because having never made potato pancakes before I fear we might be considered unsophisticated and somehow anti-Semitic. I've remedied that. I've remedied the heck out of that. Because you know what? Sweet potatoes mixed with cheese and then fried in a bit of butter are amaaaahhzing.  Plus who doesn't like anything with the word pancake involved? And I got to use the word Jarlsberg several times which is my second favorite cheese name to pronounce after Havarti.

So success! I managed to string together words into a blog with actual photograph, work out, refrained from watching the Real Housewives of McMansionville USA, devoured healthy salmon over salad and decadent cheesy sweet potato pancakes made from scratch with husband whose butt I only grabbed twice during our little cooking session, managed to keep on real pants until 11:30 pm bedtime and remained mostly sober. I'm back!