Pixelated Crumb

I have always loved deviled eggs. My first memory of eating them was at a wedding when I was a little girl. I don’t even remember whose wedding it was (a second cousin maybe?) but what I do remember are all the big beautiful shiny, poofy dresses (or so I thought at the time – it was the 80s after all), and the tower of deviled eggs along the wall in the hotel banquet room. I stood by that table all night long like we were the ones getting married. I was hooked.

And way before Mattel bought out the American Girls company and exploded into malls across the country to sell their fabulously expensive dolls, my sister and I had the American Girls Cookbook. The blend of history, food, and dolls suited us perfectly and we loved that cookbook. Best of all, there was a recipe for deviled eggs, which of course I insisted my mom help us make (i.e. she made them and we kind of helped).

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If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I should listen when my sister makes a food recommendation. So when she called me up nearly two weeks ago after the NFL conference championships to tell me about this fantastic layer dip, I was all ears. It seemed so perfect for the Super Bowl that I just had to whip it up so I could see for myself and share it with you!

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The cookbook Truly Mexican has, count them, eight recipes for guacamole. Eight! If that’s not enough to get your blood pumping, then I don’t know what is. Pineapple seems to be on sale everywhere, and I’m a huge fan of fresh pineapple, so I was especially excited about the pineapple and cucumber guacamole.

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Well, it’s August now and it’s gonna be a hot one. I grew up in Washington, D.C., a city where all the locals know enough to flee for as much of August as they can to avoid the sickeningly hot, sticky days (and nights). Did you know that D.C. was actually built on a swamp? Most tourists don’t seem to know, because they all flock to the city in August, the hottest, stickiest most miserable month you could spend there. You’d think that growing up with such humid summers that I would be used to humidity, but I’m not. I hate it. I’d take a 105 degree day in the desert over 95 degrees in 90% humidity. For just that reason, growing up I spent my summers at an amazing wilderness expedition camp based out of Thoreau, NM.

Now that I’m older, things are considerably more complicated. I keep hoping some grant will pop up that will pay me to go on vacation for all of August, but until then, I have bills to pay, which means a job to work. To make matters worse, I’ve been working from home since my knee surgery because I can sit more comfortably and don’t have to walk as much. The problem is that, unlike the office, we don’t have air conditioning. This is inevitably the point when Joseph would interject to say we do have AC, so I will clarify. We have one window unit that we have literally used twice all summer (as in two consecutive nights during that heat wave a couple weeks ago) because it’s so expensive to run. Sigh. How I miss you, AC.

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