Eating Acorns

In my youth, my imagination was (and debatably still is) even more hyperactive than my bladder. Growing up in the mountains ensured that playtime in the backyard included a heck of a lot more tree-scaling and squirrel funerals than hopscotch and swing sets. When I wasn't running through the hills singing "Colors of the Wind" I cultivated a disturbing fascination with edible wild plants. My childhood nickname, Baby Hoover, was no coincidence. While other little girls were reading Babysitter Club and Judy Blume I was lost in the SAS Survival Guide Handbook, trying to figure out how to sanitize my pee for drinking water.

Taking cues from my bushy-tailed friends, I stored an enormous stockpile of acorns with intentions of one day transforming my stash into a steaming batch of acorn mash. Considering the fact that raw acorns have an incredibly high tannic acid content that would turned my little stomach into cowhide, I'm lucky my overprotective mother confiscated my supply before it was too late.

Luckily, I seem to have outgrown this strange and possibly lethal absorption, but when I happened upon a strangely shaped shaped squash of the acorn variety, I just couldn't resist throwing it in the car, for old time's sake.



Turns out acorn mash goes perfectly with oat bran and "wild berries" as well as with roasted balsamic veggies with the world's best hummus (video review anyone) and green monster toast. The perfect fuel for this wild Indian princess.

With Love,

Emily

Wanna See My Melons?

Don't worry Daddy, I'm not showing off what momma did or didn't' give me. I just want to show my dear bloggie friends how to avoid becoming enslaved to one of the most commonly haled and despised kitchen appliances of all time.

In the curly household, it's Little E's job to empty the dishwasher. Considering the vast amount of porcelain, glass, and flatware I manage to dirty in 24 hours the poor thing spends a good amount of time re-stacking the Tupperware and singing "I'm a Slave" with a level of volume and passion that puts Britney to shame.

Maybe I was just trying to maintain my ability to process auditory information and save the neighbors from having to endure the daily concerts, but somehow the child with a golden tongue and vicious vocals managed to bribe me into taking over dish duty for a week.

Now I'm not one to go back on my word, but after twelve hours of blissful silence, my brain was again able to process information and the reality of the situation hit me. Somehow I had to get out of this deal. Unfortunately, Little E had the foresight to demand a written contract and my argument failed to win my freedom in the Court of Mom, and I was stuck with the state of affairs.

Suddenly, as the queen of paper dishware and other forms of non-washable food containment, I discovered the joy of edible bowls. I just spoon my food inside, eat up, and then toss any rinds in the trash while maintaining a smug facial expression.

Victory tasted pretty darn sweet, but my first experimentations with melon bowls were even sweeter.



Cantaloupe Melon with Gena's version of Raw Chia pudding and fresh blueberries.



Cantaloupe Melon with my tofu pudding, Cbu (Cashew version of Pbu), and a banana flavored Magic Mix-a-Muffin

If I keep this up, Little E might be emptying this morning's coffee cup when midnight strikes on Saturday...


Ideas ladies?

With Love,

Emily

Jaw Wired Shut

As I mentioned yesterday I have no problem keeping up with the sippage, but a good friend sent me a link to this blog about the culinary adventures of a fractured jaw patient who is forced to consume only liquids for a length of time.

I think I could live with the culinary consequences, but I'd have a MUCH harder time dealing with the brakes it might put on my motor mouth. This curly brain is constantly spinning 500 miles a minute, and the results spew out faster than a speeding bullet to everyone and anyone who will sit still long enough to hear me out.



If you feel so inclined, feel free to follow me on my newest discovery, Twitter. Or check out the top, left-hand corner of CurlyTop for updates.

I may not be able to hold my tongue, but this week is going to highlight five full day's worth of edible containers that have no problem keeping everything under delicious wraps.



With Love,

Emily

PS- I FINALY added the vast majority of my work from Figure Drawing and Painting to my artwork page. Feel free to leave some lovin!

To Pee or Not to Pee

Princess Pee-A-Lot's Breakfast Menu:

Chocolate Protein Shake
Toast with Cbu
Nectarine
Black Coffee
Ice Water x2

Some people have problems with hyper-active toddlers or poodles. I have an overexcited bladder. What with my recent burn victim status and resulting increased liquid consumption, my normal number of bathroom visits has nearly doubled.

All should be well and good. After all, what's the real harm in visiting the loo every half hour? Well folks, the answer is absolutely nothing--unless you are about to embark on an eight hour cashier shift with a never-ending line of relentlessly rude and boorish customers trying to return previously opened Michael Jackson cd's without actually including the disk itself. Or, when an irate mother accuses this lowly associate of soiling her darling two year old's $300 suede moccasins by allowing a sticky puddle to remain in an area where the little prince just so happened to tromp oh so daintily. Of course, the mess couldn't possibly have come from the now empty, and obviously leaking, sippy cup in the Future Savior of Mankind's little paw.

The need for frequent urination does not aid one in maintaining a pleasant, "customer is always right" countenance.

This little personage happened to mention to an irate patron demanding a free bookmark with her purchase "like those she receives at Border's," that, should she feel so inclined, she is free to either use the sales receipt in her hand to return the books she just purchased and head on over to the land of milk, honey, and free page-keepers, or use the sales slip itself to mark her spot. When the lovely lady complains to the manager about both the lack of freebies and customer service, this bookseller is forced to beg a visit to the little girl's room in the midst of the erupting feud.

One begins to reconsider the constant sippage.

Excuse me dears, but I have to pee,

Emily

Things to be Done

Did you know, my darling bloggigans that I have a secret talent? I'm actually psychic.

Want to see a trick?

I'm reading your palms through cyber space and I predict that 99.9% of you have what is colloquially referred to as a Type A personality.

Was I right?

If so get up, jump up and down three times, pat your head, and do a little twirl because July's freebies are going to really make you squeal.



How would you like a free, printable To Do List?

As a student, I kept a color-coded day planner, folded my underwear, and wrote compositions with titles like "Confessions of a Fastidious Fudbucket". Such habits have all but disappeared with my completely random work scheduling. But as school approaches I'm really looking forward to a return to my neatly organized days. And, in preparation, I created yet another tool in my arsenal against procrastination.

Enjoy!

With Love,

Emily

Crumble Berry Pie

I have the patience of a two-year old waiting to hear the Rice Krispies snap, crackle, and pop. I want things to happen yesterday. When it comes to food, you'll never find me slaving over a bread that takes three hours to rise or a stew that requires six hours of simmering. So when a craving hits I have to find the quickest possible way to satisfy it with the least possible amount of waiting.

Yesterday night I dreamed of a flying berry pie and I awoke determined to make my dream a reality. But seeing as it was six a.m. and I lack the ability to make my pie fly, I had to do a bit of a modification to the original.

A while back, the sweet folks at Bear Naked sent me a sample of their new Triple Berry Crunch granola. Combined with some applesauce and frozen berries I had a fruity treat in under five minutes flat.



Crumble Berry Pie in the Sky

1/4-1/2 cup granola of choice
1/2 cup frozen berries
1/4 cup applesauce
1 tsp sweetener of choice (I used brown sugar)

Sleepily combine ingredients in an oven-proof container. Mix with spoon. Lick said spoon, Sprinkle with sweetener. Say "Mmmm". Stare blank-faced at your creation broiling on high for 4-5 minutes (Now would be a good time to make some coffee). Remove, eat, pat self on back for your ability to wait an entire 300 + seconds to get your pie on.



With the Bear Naked Granola the entire recipe came in just under 200 calories, with 8grams of fiber, 5 grams of protein, and 2 grams of fat. Paired with some greek yogurt, a little Pbu, and multiple cups of cofee, my treat all but defied gravity. I loved the additional crunch that the Bear Naked Granola added. For a low-sugar, low-fat cereal it had a surprisingly decadent taste. Highly recommended!

With Love,

Emily

The Humble Abode

As I languish away, tending to my spotted skin and sipping my umpteenth can of ice-cold Zevia, I have found my thoughts turning towards September, RISD, my new roommate, and my future home away from home.

When I visited RISD in February I paid much attention to the tour of the freshman dorms. After months of fantasizing over this article:



I was more than a tad bit disappointed to find that my living quarters looked more like a much darker, dingier version of this:



Now don't get me wrong, I'm no spoiled princess with unrealistic aspirations for a lofty castle in the sky. After spending the last five summers living in college dorms for ballet programs with San Fransisco Ballet and Pacific Northwest Ballet along with my Pre-Collage program at California College of the Arts I have plenty of experience with dorm living.

Call me crazy, but I'd really like to retain some level of aesthetics in my future place of dwelling. If only to make it feel a bit more like home. Now, if you have been reading Curly Top for any length of time, you may have picked up on the fact that I have a slight obsession with interior decorating (if not, perhaps you'd like a tour of my bedoir?). I may have shed more than a few tears when Blueprint and Domino Magazine closed their gates, and I like to say I single-handedly decorated our current abode(OK, OK, if you want to argue semantics Mom may have helped a tad, and Daddy's credit card was certainly helpful.)



And so, as you can imagine, when I received my dorm assignment this morning (still no word about roommates...), I rushed to put together a little inspiration board for my new room. Seeing as there will be an abundance of charcoal involved in my freshman assignments, I needed a bed covering that wasn't too precious that I'd give birth to a flying cow before tossing it in the wash, cheap movable lighting, and a little something to give it some flair. Urban Outfitters answered my prayers.

Despite my efforts, I do realize that the room will never be transformed into a Versailles-esque bedchamber or the vision of airy eco-chic portrayed in the first photo. I have to remember that sometimes, what happens inside the room is more important than how pretty it is to behold.

And, on that note, I give you the reason why I don't blog about everything I put into this curly tummy:



Sometimes folks, my food just ain't pretty.

Got your air-popped carbs, heart-healthy fats, and some eggwhitalicious protein... and, due to a completely empty produce drawer, I had to eat it in my Duncan Oregano dining room and think broccoli thoughts to get my greens.

I guess it's the inside that counts right? This dinner tasted pretty darn yummy despite being an assault to the eyes. And if I can handle eating (and posting!) a less than picture-perfect meal perhaps I'll be alright without my dream of large bay windows and recycled bamboo furniture...

With Love,

Emily