For cake's sake - my interview with Buddy Valastro, the Cake Boss

Cake is one of my favorite things in the world.
What's not to love about a perfect slice of cake smothered in a creamy butter cream?

It was with great pleasure I recently interviewed Buddy Valastro from TLC's hit show "Cake Boss" for this week's Weekender. I love the show so much, partly because Buddy and his family remind me so much of my Italian family, but also because I'm always fascinated how he can make such amazing cakes out of, well, cake. My favorite one by far is his Leaning Tower of Pisa cake he made for a wedding. It was absolutely stunning.

Read the interview here, and enjoy these three pictures of cake. Glorious, locally made cakes I recently had for my 33rd birthday.


{The fish-shaped cupcake cake from my coworkers.}


{The cake from my parents, it's a marble-cake purse with a red velvet hatbox, red velvet, of course, being my most favorite cake in the world. The "flowers" on the left are actually cupcakes, and there was a cake slicer in the shape of a shoe!}


{Side view, it's precious, yes?}

Feeling French.

The fella and I had a very European evening last night.
We got a nice, fresh loaf of French bread, a chilled bottle of lovely, locally made white wine, a bowl of black olives, a tasty brick of pungent, Parmesan-like cheese, some soppressata and a little cheese tortellini with meat sauce.

It was a truly lovely meal, and another great date night.
Even though I wish we were both wearing berets.
{Though that didn't stop me from saying repeatedly my few known phrases from French 101 ... }

On salt and milk.

I hate milk almost as much as I love salt.
If I never had to drink milk again, I wouldn't.
If I could have a salt lick without being considered a freak, I totally would.
In fact, said salt lick would be like my beloved mint ChapStick - always within an arm's reach in every room of my house, in my purse, at work, etc etc.
I would love to go to that roadside attraction building made out of salt.
{Google it. You'll see. And you'll see you can actually lick the building!}

Milk, on the other hand, is pushed to the back of my fridge where I stare at it disdainfully save for when I have my bowl of cereal every other morning
{I alternate cereal, usually fake Cheerios, with an egg-white omelet.}

I've always hated milk, ever since I was a kid.
It bothers my stomach, and the taste and smell really make me cringe. But I force myself to put extra with my cereal and never let myself throw out what's leftover in the bowl.
{A girl needs her calcium you know.}

For the past two weeks, I've not added salt to anything I've eaten.
I just decided one day to break up with added salt.
This is a major step for me - I seriously would put salt on salt if I could.

So now that it's second nature to not reach for the white shaker, I needed another challenge for myself, and it is as follows:

Finish my half-gallon of milk.
Every week.
Every single week from here on out.
I always throw a lot of it away on the expiration date
{I am very OCD about the dates on dairy products}
but going forward, beginning with the half gallon I have now, it will be emptied by ingestion.
{I hope I can do it without retching.}

Starve a cold? I think not.

After having a fantastically romantic time in New York City last weekend, I have been overcome with a terrible cold.
{Yes, I'm super glad the cold didn't show up during said fantastically romantic weekend, but that doesn't mean I want it here now.}

It's derailed my diet and derailed The (New) New Regime because the very thought of Air Climbing with a chest cold and stuffy head makes me want to get back in bed even more.

I ate Chinese take out three days this week - and enjoyed every damn bite I'll have you know - but when I got on the scale this morning, I saw that the number crept up a tiny bit which makes me sick ... well, sicker.

For the first time since starting T(N)NR, I've wanted to binge eat because I just want to feed the hell out of this cold to make it go away.

Looks like I've succeeded, except the cold is still here.
Balls!

Phlog from Pittsburgh trip, and other news.

It's been ages since I last blogged, and for that I'm sorry.

Since I last wrote, I:
- have lost - and kept off - a total of 10 lbs. since the beginning of January
- received a dozen red roses for Valentine's Day (for the very first time in my 32.5 years!)
- took a weekend jaunt to visit friends in Pittsburgh
- was declared a girlfriend. :)

My trip to the 'burgh was my first full weekend off since Halloween, and I so desperately needed it. I'm happy to report that there was a ton of booze, food and friendship from the whirlwind Friday-night-to-Sunday-morning trip - and I maintained my weight! In fact, I ate whatever the hell I wanted, but knew when to call it quits.
{Naturally, I am quite proud of myself!}

Following are some photos from the trip. It's been a while since I've done a phlog!


Self portrait en route.


Pretty Pennsylvania landscape whizzing by.


Blue skies all the way across the Keystone State!


I was fascinated by this teeny, tiny toilet in the handicapped stall at the Altoona Sheetz!
{By "fascinated," I totally mean I wanted to use it!}


More Pa. landscape, but there's a train track up on that there mountain!


Told you!


A dilapidated Hungarian restaurant just inside city limits.


"Because you deserved better than hotel soap."


Now that's what I call a welcome basket!


First highballs of the weekend!


... and in plastic cups!


Our first brews at the amazing Church Brew Works (read all about it here:)


The absolutely fabulous ones.


Me and Tiff - who I hadn't seen since her Oct. 17 wedding!!


The most amazing fish sandwich ever! I talked about it all damn weekend!


In front of the tanks at Hofbräuhaus Pittsburgh - they did not let us put straws in, though we did try, Lord, we tried!


Taaa daaa!


Like booze, documentation is a form of preservation!


This is where the team that won SIX Super Bowl rings plays!!


Even closer to the Steelers' field!


Frolicking among Andy Warhol's "Silver Clouds." (Learn about his museum here)


Tiff in the clouds.


Johnny in the clouds, or my "avant-garde photo."


Andy!


We're always up to no good!


On the bridge outside the Grand Concourse.


Snowy tracks.


Goth of the North, Nanook's long-lost sister.


In trying to hide the fact I was eating ice cream before a photo, I tried to hide the cup inside my coat, which caused ice cream to get all over my coat and sweater.
{In case you're wondering, it was Hershey's cake batter ice cream.}


See, you can't even tell I housed ice cream directly prior to this photo!!


The PGH skyline at sunset.


Ceiling inside the Grand Concourse.


Our wares from the Warhol: Johnny's are the soup cans; I have Jackie and the Andy quote: "I wonder if it's possible to have a love affair that lasts forever."

Fin.

Cheater, cheater.

I'm down another three pounds, which brings my total loss since the beginning of January to nine - and FINALLY taking me out of the same group of ten pounds that I've been in for the last three years!!
PLUS I did 40 minutes on the Air Climber today!
SUCCESS!!

However, the way I found that out today kind of makes me feel like a cheater.
Instead of weighing myself on Monday, as is always my custom, I weighed myself today.
Not because I intend to gorge myself at a post-work Super Bowl party this evening, but because I do plan on eating at said party.

Let me explain.
I get out of work at 7 p.m. on Sundays, which I find pretty late to be sitting down for a meal, but I do because there's really no time to eat at work. During the week, I have my daily Skinny Cow ice cream sandwich between 7-8 p.m. because I mentally Close the Kitchen immediately following dinner.

I just know that by the time I get to the party and have a few healthy nibbles - fingers crossed I steer clear of my arch nemesis chips and dip - it will be well past 8 p.m.

And weighing myself tomorrow will only get me down because I know it wouldn't really be a true number. Does that make sense or am I a retched no-good cheater of my diet system?

If the latter, if I promise never to do this again, am I still a bad person?

In other diet confession news, I went to a fantastic pizza/wing place, Frog Pond in Wilkes-Barre, Friday night.
{check out its Web site here: Frog Pond}
I indulged in two cuts of Sicilian and five wings, which I never had before and which were amazing. I didn't feel guilty one bit because I knew I had been good all day because I had saved my points. I hadn't had the pizza in eons, it used to be a Tuesday night tradition at the Weekender many moons ago, one in which I'd house about half a tray by myself.

The next day, I had two leftover cuts - which quickly turned into two more (they're cut into really small squares I swear).
Suddenly, as I mindlessly ate cut No. 4 in like 30 seconds, I envisioned a flashing "Danger Danger" sign. Having five cuts remaining still in the fridge, I did the only thing I could do.

I looked at them longingly for a second before I dumped them out of the box into the garbage. Drastic measures, but a necessary measure. I'm glad I was able to enjoy them when they were fresh and oozy with cheese and as cold leftovers, but I wasn't doing myself any favors having them in my fridge.

Have you ever resorted to such a tactic to save yourself from temptation?

Ladies who lunch.

I had such a crazy busy, yet delightfully fun week this week.
I daresay I wasn't home but to sleep, something that usually makes me a bear, but I loved every second of it.

The week was capped off with a day off where I took a delicious little daytrip to Jim Thorpe with Adrianna, my best gal pal from college.

If you've never been to Jim Thorpe, you are missing out.
It is the quaintest, prettiest little town in Northeastern Pennsylvania I've ever seen. (Click here for info: http://www.jimthorpe.org)

There's tons of little shops, a few restaurants (I highly suggest the pork quesadilla at Mollie Maguires Pub) and lots of gorgeous historic buildings.

They call the town "America's Little Switzerland."
{Don't quite know who "they" are, but they are so right!}

We had such a great day being Ladies Who Lunch, Shop and Wine Taste ... and try on hats fit for old ladies.
{Yes, I will be uploading pictures soon!}

I got a bottle of tasty, locally made wine, four gorgeous green glass pieces to add to my collection, earrings, a surprise for Mommalah and treated myself to three pieces of chocolate that I savored the whole way home.
{Never you mind that they were gone before I even went 10 miles on the turnpike!}

It is so refreshing to know that Adrianna and I still have just as much fun as we always did way back when. After reconnecting for the first time last month, we decided to do a monthly Girls Get Together. Next month, we're thinking about a spa day, which excites the hell out of me because I've never had a complete spa experience.

Not only is it great to rekindle a great friendship, but it's also a great way to give myself a non-food reward for being such a stickler on The (New) New Regime.

Pretty sneaky, huh sis?

An angelic dining experience

Last night, the old folks invited me to dinner at Olive Garden because Papa had a gift card from work.
Naturally, I accepted.
{As I would any one who offers to take me to dinner.}

I was interested to see how I would handle my first non-controlled meal of The (New) New Regime, especially at a place that brings delicious bread sticks repeatedly to your table.

It would have been so easy to go with the stuffed chicken Marsala* Mommalah got because it sounded yummy, or the steak and gorgonzola Alfredo** I've had before, but I wanted to behave so I went with the grilled salmon and broccoli.

I had soup as an appetizer and
did
not
have
one
bread stick.

Not. A. One!

Can you see my halo?
I can!


*A whopping 32 Weight Watcher points!!
**I was afraid to check the points value in fear of heart attack

Eating good is definitely in season.

I was so excited to grocery shop last night - and not only because Mom gave me a $100 gift card to my grocer, which essentially meant this trip was free.
{Sweet!}

No, I was excited because I was going to buy food - good-for-me food.

I stocked up on a plethora of fruits and vegetables - salad, cucumber, avocados (my serious addiction), oranges, broccoli and red peppers, as well as tofu, Lean Cuisine pepperoni pizzas (my very serious addiction) and Skinny Cow ice cream sandwiches (my very, very serious addiction).
{I am proud to report that I've yet to eat two of said ice cream sandwiches in one day. Keyword is clearly "YET."}

I felt like I was conquering my fridge.
Like I should put up a flag that said, "I stake this land out for only good things that will keep me on track."

I'm going to make guacamole. Tofu fettuccine Alfredo. Steamed veggies with a few sprays of butter and dry ranch dressing.

I'm going to keep buying these fruits and veggies, changing it up a bit so as not to get bored, and I'm going to not only conquer that fridge of mine, but also my obsession with food.

Happy Thanks-gorging!

After taking a brisk 3.5 mile walk today, I vow to not gorge myself at the table today - as I do every year.

I'm not a huge turkey fan, so I usually take seconds - and sometimes thirds - of green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole and Mom's super-delicious homemade mashed potatoes.

I might have two scoops of the cranberry-citrus relish and I sure as hell have a bigger slice of my bourbon chocolate pecan pie topped with my homemade bourbon whipped cream than I should have, but that's all part of the holiday right?

Not this year.
This year, I'm thankful that I'm putting a limit on myself, for my own damn good.

But that's not all I'm thankful for, in fact, that's the least of it.

I'm thankful that my Mom is well - knock wood.

I'm thankful for her more than I could ever express - for being there, for talking me down from the proverbial ledge, for just being her fabulous self and for making the Manhattans we will drink together today and be thankful for each other together.

I'm thankful for the rest of my family - my father, brother and "sister." For always being there, or just a phone call away when I need them most.

I'm thankful for being strong enough to handle what life throws at me, even if I do let it get me down sometimes.

I'm thankful for having legs strong enough to allow me to take the walk I did today, lungs that were able to breathe in the crisp morning and eyes that could see my surroundings.

And most of all I'm thankful I have people and things to be thankful for.

Crockpot update!

Well the Crockpot chicken recipe turned out
fantastico!

As I blogged yesterday, I was a nervous wreck that I was going to come home to a congealed mess of dinner and chicken that was tough and gross.

Not so!
The only problem was I had added a little bit of water per the Crockpot's booklet for frozen chicken, which created a bit too much juice. But it made for tasty gravy, albeit a little runny gravy, but tasty nonetheless.

I am going to tackle a roast next methinks!

And most importantly, Mommalah was very impressed and I was happy to finally treat her to a good dinner that she didn't have to make, or clean up after.
{Plus I was able to shoo her help away as she always does me. It felt good. And you know what, so did those typical Mommalah-isms that I found coming out of my mouth without a second thought. Guess the old adage

"Mirror, mirror on the wall
I am my mother after all"

is true!}

Let's be friends, Crockpot.

A few Christmases ago, Mommalah bought me a Crockpot.
It was a tiny, adorable little thing that I felt very grown up having.
I took it excitedly out of the box and set it in a place of prominence on the bottom shelf of my microwave cart and would often gaze at it, imagining the Things I Would Make in it.

I could come home to cooked meals like Mommalah used to make - and not have to wait until our ritual weekly dinners to eat.
I could eat healthy roasts and have healthy leftovers ... oh, how healthy I would be.

That little Crockpot sat on that shelf and gathered dust for the next few years until last year when Mommalah declared the Crockpot too small for me to do anything with - as if that's the sole reason I never used it. {How angelic of her not to call attention to the fact that it's because her daughter is Inept in the Kitchen as the true reason it was never used.} She declared that the Crockpot's white insert would make the perfect tureen for our Thanksgiving gravy.

Last Christmas, Mommalah went on to buy me another Crockpot, a larger one with a pretty fall motif on the outside. Instead of taking this one out of the box and putting it on the microwave cart, however, this one I let it sit on the spare bed in my office, unopened until today.

Today, I have to work until 7 p.m., so I'll miss out on Sunday dinner at Mommalah's.
Today, I've decided to host Sunday dinner for Mommalah here.
Today, I've decided to make that Crockpot my bitch.

And now I'm a nervous wreck.

Long ago, my dear friend Tiffany gave me a recipe for chicken stroganoff with low WeightWatchers points.
It sounded so easy enough that I, the Inept in the Kitchen, could do it.
And so I am trying.

It's actually slow cooking as we speak.

I want so badly for it to be good.
I want so badly for the Crockpot and I to be friends.
Good friends, great even.

I will be on pins and needles all day until I come home and lift up that lid to taste the concoction.

If all else fails, we have chilled wine and Great Wall Chinese on speed dial.

The New Regime: Day 26

Today, we're going to have a pizza party at the office.

It's been One of Those Weeks, so the mini packages of M&Ms one of my coworkers brought in have been screaming my name. They've actually resorted to marching themselves right into my mouth all week long and frankly, I'm not having it today.

I decided to take smart action and nix the M&Ms once and for all.
No. Matter. What.
I will treat myself to one piece of pizza - it's free so I'd be silly to pass on it, really - and packed a nicely-sized salad to have once I'm done with that sole slice. I've got it chockablock with mixed greens, chick peas, olives and grape tomatoes to fill me up.

Here's hoping the willpower stays strong.

Chronic dieters, how do you fend off tasty diet saboteurs like snack- and fun-sized candies and office pizza parties?

The New Regime: Day 24.

As you can probably tell from the lack of TNR writings, someone went of the wagon again.
{But she assures she's back on full force this week.}

My weight reached Biblical proportions the last few weeks thanks to full-on boozing and noshing during a wedding weekend and I just decided it was time to stop the insanity. Finally.
{"Again."}

I've done some Proper Prior Planning this week and actually cooked something: veggie wraps I found in this month's Glamour magazine.

The wraps required sauteing veggies (I chose red and green peppers, grape tomatoes and chickpeas because I had a hankering for them). I took low-fat mozzarella, sprinkled it on a whole wheat tortilla, added those sauteed veggies, made a quasi-pocket and then
grilled
the
tortilla
to perfection.

It oozed cheese and was delicious.

I couldn't believe it.
I really couldn't believe it.

So tonight, I made it again.
Though the tortilla got a little too blackened (OK, a lot of too blackened), I was tickled pink again.

When added to my extra workout today (SELF yoga in the morning, 20 minutes on Air Climber when I got home), I am feeling pretty awesome right now.

I'm back, New Regime.
For good.
{I hope, oh how I hope!!}

I've spent the evening catching up on some Weight Watcher and Hungry Girl newsletters to help keep me motivated.
What do you do to stay on track?

The New Regime: Day 10.

Last night - which is Day 10 - I went to dinner with a friend and did something I've never done before: I didn't inhale - or finish - everything placed before me.

I daresay I Ate In Moderation.

My friend Amy has always been in control of her food intake.
I've seen her push aside a sandwich and fries about halfway through, while I eyed up those fries ravenously, still hungry as I finished my entire meal across the table from her.

I had been looking forward to the dinner all week and had every intention of eating, because I was starving.

Instead, I followed Amy's lead.

- When she pushed her salad plate aside, I followed suit.
- Our fantastic appetizer was taken away with two pieces of tuna - instead of me polishing off the leftovers "because there's starving kids in Africa."
- While I enjoyed one extra - and I will have you know tiny - piece of bread dipped in a delicious olive oil, I didn't go hog wild on it as I kind-of/sort-of wanted to.
- As I made it halfway through my entree, I pushed it aside before her because my brain was already pre-conditioned after two courses of eating in moderation.
- We pondered dessert, which I said we'd only take one bite of - and meant it, but opted to just enjoy one more glass of wine instead.

As we sat there and talked over that last glass, I couldn't help but revel in how I felt.

I didn't feel stuffed to the gills, nor did I feel guilty about being weak and gorging myself as I may or may not have been known to do.

Instead, I felt a little hungry still - and like someone who ate a great dinner with a great friend and enjoyed every bite of all that I had.

And best of all, for the first time ever I felt like I was in control of my eating.

I finally realized I don't have to stuff myself to the point of sick to enjoy a dinner.

Is that the sign of a lifestyle change or what?!

The New Regime: Day 3.

I am completely dragging ass today.
Still haven't really slept and it's starting to catch up to me.
But I did take one hell of a walk after work like I had wanted to. It was my usual 2-mile loop, but I seemed to be trekking a lot more brisk than usual.

Because of my uber-ridiculously early outing this morning, I ate my breakfast super early and didn't eat again for another six hours.

That is virtually unheard of for me, unless I have to fast for blood work.
I'm the type of girl could - and would before TNR - binge all day long.
I even used my rarely-seen willpower to not have any of the tempting, tasty-looking subs from Quizno's while I was at 98.5 KRZ this morning.

Me turning down food? Or, more importantly, me turning down free, carb-laden food?
A whole new regime, indeed!

I know pride is bad, but I can't help but feel so proud of myself!

Free to be me.

It was the kind of weekend you wish you could have every weekend.

There was a lot of great conversation, a lot of drinks and food, a friendship that picked up like it never left off and the meeting of some really great, fun people.

It started with an Irish car bomb at the Banshee in Scranton after a work-free Friday and ended today with four glasses of champers at my BFF Tiffany's wedding shower - where I am proud to say I won a crimson pashmina during one of the shower games! - followed by a great Sunday dinner at Mommalah's.

It was so what my soul needed.
No thoughts. Not arguments. No going-on-the-defensive.
Just me being me, with someone I can totally be me with - who thinks that me is "absolutely fabulous," as it were.

I've been feeling a little ... not myself the last week or two, just making sense of some internal demons, if you will, of what I want in a few areas of my life.

Some of those decisions are harder than others, and some, once the writing was so blatantly on the wall that even my sometimes rose-colored glasses couldn't hide them anymore, were easy as pie.

Or as easy as eating all that kielbasa this weekend and washing it down with ice cold brews.

A good weekend indeed.

Entertaining ... fabulously.

I'm not much of a goddess in the kitchen.
I do, however, make a killer bourbon chocolate pecan pie for Thanksgiving and the super-secret Mascali Family cookie cake for Christmas. I've dabbled with chicken a few times, can make a mean tofu stir fry and can microwave a Lean Cuisine pepperoni pizza like it's nobody's business ... but that's pretty much where it ends.

Pretty ironic for someone who is as obsessed with food as I am, non?

I do, however, throw good party, though I have been known to offer onion dip and a fabulously fatty rippled chip at times.
When I do break out the '50s housewife for the few people who appreciate her, pearls are optional, as is the matching apron.

Last Thursday, I entertained my fabulous dear friend Johnny, or as we like to call it, the Patsy to my Edy, an homage to the lovely lush ladies of "Absolutely Fabulous."

We've recently gotten back in touch, and he came bearing oodles of vodka and limes to make his signature Phoebe Snow cocktail - named after the fabulous and fictional Lackawanna Railroad ad goddess of the early 1900s.

{Above is from a little plaque he gave moi.}

The fabulous martinis went into glasses I chilled all day long in the freezer ...

... and included Grey Goose La Poire, Svedka, Grand Marnier, fresh lime juice and a slice of pear floating ever so gracefully amid the booze.


My menu:

- a tasty little concoction I "invented" for my last drinks-n-things soiree I threw: toasted pumpernickel points and gorgonzola ...

- pretzels, green olives, black olive tapenade, wheat crackers ...

- cheddar cheese and Genoa salami ...

- and a lovely little black-&-white cookie for a sweet treat.
{Kindly notice the fabulous plate! Vintage circa 1950s!}

- Here is the table set up. I learned the importance of setting good table from Mommalah- and Johnny, neither of whom would dream of entertaining with gherkins on a stick, heaven forbid!

{Note: The blogger is aware that she used the term "fabulous" seven times. Well, eight counting that last one. Sometimes no other word'll do and those times are just, well, fabulous. (Make that nine)}