|photo by Sardonic Salad|
First, the hallacas (pronounced "aye-jak-ez," I think). It's a dish from Venezuela. A mixture made from
I won't say what I was calling those banana leaves--since you might not appreciate the colorful and creative combinations I came up with--but suffice it to say, it was a daunting task.
I was up until 2:30 in the morning on Saturday making these delicacies. My teaching partner's husband took his oath on Thursday and became a citizen. They have the most drop-dead gorgeous girl (who is a spitfire), and Holly hosted a surprise party on Saturday afternoon. I offered to make the hallacas before I knew how troublesome they would be. However, Rodrigo went back and got thirds, so I was happy...
Next, no Ho-Ho for me. My "Fifty Shades of Santa" was rejected, but it was an encouraging no. I plan on studying the tone Pat wants, and submitting something to her at a later date for a later anthology.
And I got a hello from Simon and Schuster. Okay, the "hello" was a box of Chicken Soup for the Soul: The Power of Positive books, I was expecting them, but it took a little out of the sting from the rejection.
How'boutchoo? What was the funniest culinary disaster you've experienced?
And if you'd like a pedicure this Sunday while you sip beer and get a pap smear, go to Pearl's Paps and Pedicure Pub. She'll fix you right up...I promise.