When I was home for the holidays, my sister Rachel told me I had no self control because I couldn’t stop myself from singing. She’d ask me to stop, and I’d find myself unconsciously singing again five minutes later.
But really, SHE was just projecting, because she has no self control when SHE watches football. Cries of excitement, agony, happiness, sorrow, I’ve heard it all.
Hi, my name is Veronica, and I’m the sister of a football addict.
I hate football, and she hates all the movies I love, so I guess we’re about equal.

But before I continue, I have a back story to tell about a scarf.
About two months ago, I was shopping at my local Salvation Army and saw a black and yellow striped scarf. Cool, I thought to myself, it’s sorta like a bumblebee! There was some writing on the scarf, and I couldn’t figure out what it said, but I figured it wasn’t too important, and I wore it for a few weeks before I went home.

So anyway, when I got home and my sister saw the scarf, she was like, “Um, why are you wearing a Pittsburgh Steelers scarf? I thought you hated football.”
(Oh, this was after she told me I looked like Harry Potter.)
At first, I was really confused, and then she asked, “Didn’t you see the Steelers written on it?” Oh, right! That’s what those letters are! Whoops.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, if the Steelers lose the Super Bowl tomorrow and you see me on the street afterward wearing my scarf, please don’t heckle me, because I just wanted to be a bumblebee.


And, yes, for the record, I now see clearly that it says Steelers.



I don’t hate Swiss chard, but I don’t count the old chard as a favorite among my leafy green friends, so when I had a ton of it to use up in my fridge, rather than go the boring route of sauteing, I figured why not make pesto out of it?
It was promptly blanched and shocked, then tossed (well, not really tossed, but you know what I mean…) into the food processor with lemon zest, extra virgin olive oil, walnuts, and salt and pepper whilst the alphabets were cooking, and a good meal was had by all.

Although I must say, the alphabets had some serious letter ratio problems, with most of the pasta shapes being P’s, B’s, or R’s.
A-Z my arse.

Dear pasta company,
If you’re going to have alphabet shaped pasta, please have the whole alphabet so I can spell out big words (my parents never told me not to play with my food- actually, my dad did, but I didn’t listen) and not just the initials for Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.



I used to take this theater workshop sort of thing, and there was a kid in my class who always used the word “ballin.” My theater teacher didn’t know what in the world this word meant, and actually, neither did I. That’s why I like Urban Dictionary.
But um, that’s not what this post is about.

Every single year around the holidays, my sister Rachel asks me to make popcorn balls, because I made some about five years ago (from a recipe in Martha Stewart Living) and she adored them. I never make them – partly because I’m lazy, and partly because I like to annoy Rachel – but this year I thought I’d suprise her by making some.


Martha Stewart’s recipe is decidely un-vegan, chock full of butter and marshmallows, so I used Kittee’s recipe instead, subbing coconut oil instead of Earth Balance and Agave in place of corn syrup. Also, I don’t have a candy thermometer, but (eye)ballin’ worked fine.

Verdict: These tasted more like caramel corn than the popcorn balls I remember, but I thought they were really nice, albeit super duper sweet. Rachel said she liked them, but so far I’ve eaten more than her, so who knows. And who cares, more for me, I say!

I’m at my parents house and their computer is dying a slow and tortured death. Yesterday night I was planning on typing this post up (hence the title), but then their computer started making weird noises and so off it went to rest for a while.

Yesterday the weather here was miserable. I mean, that’s what everyone told me. It was snowing and sleeting and shitty, but I didn’t have to leave the house, and it was glorious to stay inside all day and drink warm apple cider and read and not have to worry about slipping on ice.

What better day than a snow day to have breakfast for dinner?

Pancakes + Maple Syrup + Soysage = One hell of a dinner


Okay, I have to put a disclaimer: I hate fake meat products. I mean, I’ll eat them if my sister brings home expired fakety fakeness from her job at a health food store, but I never, ever go out of my way to buy them. Except for Soysage.  I love soysage. My mouth salivates when I think of it. But I hardly ever buy it, because A) the ingredients are wack and B) it’s expensive. But I noticed it was buy one get one free at the local Price Chopper this week, and sometimes ya just gotta. Ya know what I mean?

Placemats I bought at a flea market last year. Somewhere along the way, I picked up a nickname of looney veroony (I… don’t… know? I’m not looney!) so I guess these are only fitting.

I know you all are scratching your heads in amazement, wondering why the chocolate vegenaise cake was less than stellar, but in breaking news: the flavor is better today! It tastes more like chocolate today, as opposed to nothingness yesterday. I mean, the cake is still mediocre, but not inedible.

And just because I hate writing posts without pictures, here are a few photos of my housemate’s cat, who has taken to sleeping in my room. Her name is Grimm, but I just call her purrball because she never stops purring. Awwwww.
P.S. It’s hard taking pictures of cats, they’re always moving!






My mom has this friend who used to make a chocolate mayonnaise cake (actually, I bet she still makes it), and apparently it was a pretty great cake. As revolting as it sounds, I can see where mayonnaise would make for a moist cake. Side note: this lady’s now deceased husband had two heart attacks, and she has had (at least) one.
It’s not a joking matter, but is it any wonder?

I myself had a horribly scarring childhood incident involving a mayonnaise + bologna sandwich (mayonnaise being the main ingredient), and every so often I think of it and shudder, but I pushed the memory out of my mind because I really wanted to make a chocolate mayonnaise cake.

I figured mayo cake was a countryish thing, and indeed, it is. I found a recipe online (this one) and read and ignored the reviews, partly because the reviews were mixed and partly because of the spelling. Does that make me a horrible person?

“I would deffinatly make this type of cake instead of using veggitable oil and eggs.”

This one is just plain scary:

“I made this cake for some friends and it was a big hit. This cake was sooooo moist and delicious. In addition to the ingredients specified, I added a box of chocolate fudge instant pudding along with 3 eggs, and 1 cup of Hellmann’s Lite Mayonnaise instead of 3/4 cup. This would make an excellent birthday cake for those chocolate lovers.”

Anyhoo, the mayonnaise stands in for oil and eggs, so all I had to do was use vegenaise instead of it. I added a little black cocoa powder to it, and I had high hopes for it, because the batter was frickin’ delicious. It took me literally five minutes to throw together, and as I was licking the bowl my housemate came out of her room and asked me what I was making. I didn’t want to tell her it was mayonnaise cake in case that grossed her out enough to not want any, so I said nonchalantly, “I’m making chocolate cake, yum!” My plan was that after it was done I’d give her a piece of the cake, watch her eat it, and when she was done watch her reaction as I told her there was vegenaise in it.

Well. If there ever was a time to use epic fail in a sentence, this would be it.
The texture is okay, but the taste is completely lackluster. So sad. It’s like the proverbial bad vegan cake recipe x infinity. I made a coffee icing to go on it to try to save it, and it helped a little, but it’s still a failure. I want to say my mom’s friend used to make a mayonnaise + chocolate icing for the cake, but I could just be making that up for the grossness factor. In fact, I think I am.


You win some, you lose some, right dudes?

Really, I’m not. Yet every time I’m at a second-hand store I always check the boys’ and girls’ clothing. I can’t help myself, there’s just always something to be found.

Once, while I was looking at the girls’ clothing at my local Salvation Army, I overheard two ladies bonding over finding ticks on their children, needing to buy winter coats for said children, and Florida. A bit random, but it was very cute and I like to imagine that both families now get together for play dates while wearing their thrifted coats.

Anyway, last time I was shopping, I found an awesome pair of pajamas (for 3.99) in the boys’ section.



One thing I want to know is why do they have heart buttons?
It intrigues me every night as I’m getting ready for bed.