Wednesday, June 26

nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth quite like Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie

Matt and I love Rhubarb. The tart and tangy flavor is the very taste of late spring and early summer at our house. We do very little without a song in our house, and rhubarb always leaves us singing the ditty from Prairie Home Companion. "One little thing can revive a guy, and that is a piece of rhubarb pie / Serve it up, nice and hot / Maybe things aren't as bad as you thought. Momma's little baby loves rhubarb rhubarb, Be-Bop-A-Re-Bop Rhubarb Pie" — to the tune of "Shortnin' Bread". This is usually sung following a sound-effect-enhanced tale of woe and immediately followed by "Wouldn't this be a great time for a piece of rhubarb pie? Yes, nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth quite like Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie.” (taken from Typically I don’t make much pie, especially with the heat and humidity that has moved into Chicago recently. The hubby and I completed a sprint triathlon over the weekend. The race was great, we accomplished our goals and commented how we’re really not that sore. As a treat on Monday Matt made his favorite rhubarb custard pie. On Tuesday morning when my not a morning person husband hops out of bed and declares that he’s going on a 40 mile bike ride before work. Did I mention it was raining? He had left the house and was on the road before I was out of the shower. By the time I get to work and turn on my computer there is an instant message from Matt, “well I fell off my bike think I broke my arm I'm going to go to the doctor.” This is followed with a panicked phone call from me. I insist he go to the ER, and tell him I’ll meet him there. Twenty minutes later I’ve found him skinned knee-ed and elbow bruised. We check the Wong Baker Scale for pain. X-Rays are taken. It’s determined that he has not broken or fractured his arm but it’s a bad bruise. We walk home with an ice pack and a band aid for his knee.
One home, I said. "Wouldn't this be a great time for a piece of rhubarb pie? Yes, nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth quite like Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie.” We gobbled up warm rhubarb custard pie ala mode, as I hummed “One little thing can revive a guy, and that is a piece of rhubarb pie.” Here’s to hoping that the healing powers of rhubarb revive my guy quickly. Recipe Below: Premade Pie crust 3 Cups of Rhubarb (a little more won’t hurt) 3 Eggs 1 1/2 Cup of Sugar 1 TB tapioca, a pinch salt & cinnamon Preheat oven to 400 Roll pie dough into a 9 inch pie pan. Wash and cut rhubarb. In a separate bowl combine sugar, eggs, tapioca, salt and cinnamon. Add egg mix to rhubarb Pour pie filling into crust. Dot filling with butter Top with the second crust, crimp pie edges. Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, cover crust edges with tin foil so they do not brown too quickly. Remove foil after 30 to 40 minutes of baking has passed.

Sunday, October 5

New Blog, New location

Hey Readers!

I do realize this is a long over due post. I've decided to start a new blog at a new site. I've decided to try to do a blog about what I spend the weekend doing- eating, cooking, running, and vegging out: here's the new link!

Sunday, July 13

Kenosha Tri

Okay, so it was a race morning that I've only heard horror stories of. To start Friday night was stormy. It was so stormy and I was so keyed up that I barely slept. When I did finally find sleep I had a nightmare that I was late for the race- so late that the officials wouldn't let me in the event. Which shouldn't be such a big deal, but the entry fees for these races are not cheep, and almost never give refunds- So in my fitful sleep I was ANGRY.

Once our alarms rang and MK and I sprung out of bed, we didn't have much time to get ready - but it was still storming and down pouring outside. Slowly we get ready, and plot the driest way to load the car. When we finally get in the car, and are getting on the highway I ask my co-pilot what the time is. Soon my nightmare becomes reality. We have less than an hour to get to Wisconsin. Panic strikes, and I take the little Honda Civic to speeds it never should legally see. Lucky for me the highway was patrol car free - phew!~

Somehow, we make it to the race, and pick up our packets with a minute to spare. We find parking, and I get my bike to transtion as the Olympic distance racers are starting their swim. As I fought with my wet suit, I hoped that I'd just be able to blend in with the next wave of swimmers and catch up. Which is what happened.

Lake Michigan was the coldest I've ever felt it (perhaps all the rain?). Seriously, there was a man taken to the hospital after the swim because he was so cold. Eventually I relaxed into the swim, caught up with the rest of the Olympic distance triathlets and came in fifth overall in the swim (which is about a mile!). Then it was on to the bike. Now, because of my hurried arrival I didn't set all my stuff up exactly the way I wanted it but I was able to find my shoes, helmet, and gloves. Off I went, five laps on a park course filled with mud puddles. I dropped to seventh- but because this is a very small tri I held on to some delusions of grandure. Once I put on my running shoes all illusions fell away, and I was happy to be two thirds done. The remaining folks on the course passed me, and I looked forward to brunch afterwards. Maybe I lost focus, maybe I started to hard and faded at the end. One thing is for sure, I have some very healthy fear about the half Iron Man. In the end I was one of the last folks to cross the finish line, but Matt & the guy with the medals were waiting for me and Matt cheered loudly as a completed the race.

So here's the breakdown:

Swim (.9 mi) time: 45.46
Bike (25 mi) time: 1.29.22
Run (6.2 mi) time: 1.19.33
TOTAL : 3:41.34
Place in class: 4th of 4
Place in Olympic Distance Race 50 of 52

Lesson of this race?
Well, I need to respect the distance, and I need to pace myself. I always get in trouble for laying it on to thick at the start then not having enough juice left at the end of the race. Most importantly, I learned to NEVER EVER EVER plan to drive for over an hour to a race on race day.

I like these smaller races because I got to be 4th and 50th in the same race. It's also nice, because they still let us in the race, even though we arrived to the race a half hour after packet pickup ended, with only five minutes left to the race start.