Vegas, cont.

Where did we leave off, my lovlies? Oh yesyesyes... Vegas, days 1 and 2.

Upon arrival to the airport, we slo-mo ran slash embraced one another, gathered our luggage and hopped into the hot mess of a taxi line headed to the strip. Also? Cait saw Dave Nevarro. NBD.

Dinner that eve was at Japonais at the Mirage. Sushi with a side of sass. Highly recommend.

The next morning, we jetted over to Rent the Runway at the Cosmopolitan. SUCH a brills business model: literally renting out designer fashions for any event. You can do it from home (shipped direct) or via appointment their boutique shops in NYC or Vegas. They rent pretty much everything but the shoes and the skivvies. Even wedding things! Anyway, I ended up with this little number from Trina Turk and this racy lace situation from Nicole Miller. Cait was delicious in Badgley Mischka and also Badgley Mischka. Hey, know what you know. 

Post-appointment, we dined at Holsteins. Their menu includes boozy milkshakes, so duh. And somewhere in the course of the morning hours Cait hit it big and won $10 at a Monopoly machine. Our friendship has a long and storied past with Monopoly, so it was sort of a sign that the day was going to be amazing. And oh, it was. 

The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging poolside, with my fair ginger bestie swimming in SPF one million, while I baked to my heart’s content with what I’m quite sure was actually just bottled Crisco. Also? We think someone had a seizure at the pool. Dear whoever you are: we hope you’re ok.

Dinner that evening was at Yolos, the Mexican joint in PH, because tableside guac.

Then, we BRITNEY-ed. You’ve been briefed on this experience already. But let’s just once again reminisce about how we were randomly selected from 4,600 people to sit in the VIP table section with the likes of Jessica Alba. MAGICAL.

Legit the only bad thing to happen to us the entire day was when I broke the straps on my super fave sparkly shoes, but in the long run, it was just one less thing I had to pack to go home. Win|win.

Tomorrow we discuss Saturday’s sitch. I tweeted this one out that night, so you’re in for a real treat.

Sneaky bid-ness, part II.

Remember this post? Well, it looks like we have another little food sneaker in the family...

Loveitloveitloveit. And, for fun, here are some more pictures from the celebration at Aunt Jane's yesterday! I love that she makes birthdays so special.

They very definition of self control.

Joey's been craving a burger lately. He's rather like a woman on a PMS rage when he gets on a kick for something--and it's usually in the form of meat or chocolate. See? PMS, totally. And since "happy husband, happy life" is also a thing, we went to Red Robin last night for dinner.

I've eaten my body weight and then some in soups and salads lately, so I knew what I didn't want off the menu. Be good, Kristi. Be good. Noticing they had a lettuce wrap option instead of a bun, I went for that with the turkey burger patty. To push myself to the absolute limits, I also ordered bottomless....broccoli. Thrilling.

If you've known me for a minute, you know how serious of a situation this is. No bun. No fries. NO CARBOHYDRATES FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GLUTEN. By its very definition, this is self-control to the nth degree.

I would like to go on the record to say that lettuce wraps were invented by idiots. Lettuce ≠ hamburger bun. Lettuce = salad. Hamburger > salad.

I'm probably going to be grumpy for awhile. You've been warned. But at least I'm funny when I'm grumpy, right?

Send wine, Tylenol PM and Spanx.

"A change will do you good," they say.

"They" can suck it.

So I went back to work last week, but what I failed to mention is that I came back to a new job. Same company, new boss, new department. All good stuff, but my brain is nowhere near capacity to hold in everything I need to learn and do, as it's been mostly turned off for the better part of 4 months. Sometimes it hurts to think.

I've also gotten real sick and tired of my current state of health and wellness, so I've started eating better and working out (see also: Barre classes). This means I cannot stress eat and consume all the wines and cheeses while I whine about work, life, sore muscles and moderate to severe starvation. Ugh.

In related complaints, it's still winter. Still snowing. Still cold. And the kicker is that I'm usually a lover of winter, but at the moment I would do very unsavory things to click my heels and be on a beach in 2.5 seconds. Sigh. Spring, come quickly!

And if all of that weren't enough, we did this last night:

NOPE.

Kindergarten roundup for Alex. I'll give you one sec to digest the fact that that sign reads "Class of 2027," and then you can join me over here in the corner ugly crying about it. I know he's ready. I know it's time. I know he'll be awesome. It's just SUCH a milestone, you know?

And yet, one unrelated bright and shining star throughout all of these moderately overwhelming life situations has been the discovery of REVERSIBLE tights (black/grey and black/brown) that are also Spanx. THEY EXIST. For the record, they are only $18 at Target but the online product link is broken. You're welcome.

My pregnant self has the same cravings as my 17 year old self.

And to whatever stoner who was on the marketing team responsible for creating this Munchies Cheese Fix blend of amazingness, THANK YOU for being a pothead and THANK YOU for creating what I believe to be the ultimate in snack nirvana. I knew it would be one of you that achieved snacking greatness. Way to go, kids. Way to go.

Also shown: my super kickass mousepad, which was a Christmas prezzie from my pal Jackie.

The combination is obscene.

Oh heyyyyy girl, hey. Remember that one time I told you that story about how we all got the flu and it was the worst four consecutive days in our family's existence? Oh, and remember how then then next day I told you I was also pregnant and feeling like a dumpster fire 24/7?

Oh yeah, put THAT brilliant combination together and make it tango.

What I'm saying is that even when I was feeling better, I wasn't feeling better. The upside to this parade of vomit and nausea is that I haven't gained an ounce in 11 weeks, and baby is doing just fine. The downside is that my current existence and nutrition is totally dependent on buttered toast, Teddy Grahams and water.

But then, in a moment of glory, the other night for dinner I HAD to have a crispy chicken sandwich. Eegads! Food! Sounding delicious! Must. Get. Some. Now. Like, some crispy chicken sandwich magic maker probably should have just delivered it to me in 2.9 seconds with a side of light mayo and fries a-la the freaky fast Jimmy John's commercials. But no, we had to driiiiiiive to Red Robin, where they do make a delicious crispy sandwich and as an added bonus offer bottomless steak fries. Word.

But then, as we pulled into the parking lot and curses if you wouldn't imagine it, CRISPY CHICKEN SANDWICHES ARE NOW MADE BY THE DEVIL. I shall never eat again! More toast! Begone, chickens of the world!

This is my life. In rare, glorious moments, some foods sound amazing and I must have them immediately. But in the time lapse it takes to actually get said food that is not a Teddy Graham to my mouth, something goes horribly wrong and my body denies its very existence and tells my brain that it's made of poison and will likely a) kill me; 2) give me a real show of the gags; and/or c) ruin my life. Or quite possibly a combination of all three.

Because, no. Just no. I like food too much for all this to even be real. 2nd trimester feelings of Super Mom, pleasepleaseplease come soon!

A not so rhetorical question.

Today on the twitters, I asked the following:

And then answered myself, with this:

Because honestly, it's just lettuce, chicken, cilantro, tomatoes, jicama and some tortilla strips slathered in bbq sauce and ranch. BUT WHY IS IT SO DELICIOUS?

Listen, one glance in my direction and it's fairly obvious that 13 times out of 14, I'm not ordering the salad at any restaurant, like, ever. See also: I love pizza. So why do I go to a pizza restaurant and order salad? Is a conundrum that even I cannot solve.

All I know is it's the world's greatest salad and I could eat it all day, every day. Anyone for a date night?

Sneaky bid-ness, part II.

Remember this post, in which I shared photographic evidence of a then 1 and 2 year old little boy sneaking food from the plates of grown ups?

I've caught him red-handed again!

Although I simply cannot blame him, as he's thieving some dangerously delicious dark chocolate cherry scones (purchase the mix here--just add heavy cream and dark chocolate chips!). In fact, this photo makes me proud. My boy, all growed up and stealin' scones.

And what you might also see in this little pic is some glorious bacon. But what you can't see (or taste) is that the bacon has a slight sprinkling of cinnamon and sugar and was cooked in the oven. Try it next time and thank me later.

In unrelated news, you can also follow me on instagram! Some very unkind person was already using my 'kveedub' moniker, so I'm 'kristiwmu' over in instagram land.

The peer pressure of Greek yogurt.

I genuinely consider myself to be a trendy person. I like to at least know what the cool kids are up to, even if I don't actually participate in the reindeer games. (See also: Uggs, leggings & ombre hair.)

And this new cultural craze around Greek yogurt is something even I cannot ignore. So says advertising and the Internets (and we all know if the Internets say so that it MUST be true!): It's healthy! It's full of calcium! It's exotic & creamy and LOOK! John Stamos even says so!

And, seriously. If John Stamos says I should do it, I'm going to listen. Simple as that.

Let's be clear: I love, love, love the Ben & Jerry's version of Greek Yogurt. So why wouldn't I like the original gangster versions from the likes of Chobani, Fage, Oikos and other ridiculous brand names that no one in their right mind can actually pronounce? 

The quick answer? BECAUSE IT IS AWFUL.

People, I tried. I honestly did. I wanted so badly to fit in with the cool kids and have a trendy and delightful snack of Greek yogurt around 11 am, pulled from a thirty-one monogrammed lunch bag just before I performed a brisk walk around campus in my Lulu Lemon spandex and then sped off in a white Lexus SUV. But here's the thing: I don't have a thirty-one lunch bag; Greek yogurt is awful; spandex is a privilege, not a right; and damnit, I drive American and white cars are awful.

Ask the nice men and women at Kroger: I've purchased every brand, every flavor. It blows. It tastes like sour cream because it IS sour cream. With fruit. And even John Stamos can't trick me of that. Sour cream belongs on nachos, baked potatoes, tacos, chili and other savory, non-breakfast item. 

I caved to the peer pressure and look how it turned out for me. Probably $30 wasted on pretend, fruit sour cream and roughly 20 activations of my gag reflex. John Stamos? You've lied to me. I feel so very, very betrayed. It's a good thing you still have that hair and those dimples, otherwise we'd be finished. FINISHED, I tell you.

Now, back to watching 'Full House' reruns and dreaming of the good ol' days...

Get in my bell-ay.

So this 30 before 30 thing is really starting to have an impact on my waistline. For those new in town, I vowed in August of last year when I ate at my first EPIC food truck to eat at 29 more of them before I turned the dirty thirty. This happens on December 7 of this year, and I'm proud to say I've only got 10 more to go.

Minneapolis was a metropolis of food trucks. A mecca. A smorgasbord. However, when we discovered them downtown (literally parked 20 in a row down every street), we learned they are only downtown Monday-Friday for the business crowd. IT WAS FRIDAY. WE WERE LEAVING SUNDAY. Which meant my opportunity to consume all the goodness was slipping through my fingers.

So, we mustered up everything we had and went back to the hotel room to nap and prepare our innards for extreme consumption.

And then, two hours later, we did the impossible...

The sad thing is, looking back on those pictures just makes me hungry, when it should make me hurt. Hurt so good.

The next day was the wedding, and we got all fancy 'n stuff and had a DELIGHTFUL evening. I can't believe I didn't get a photo with the bride and groom, but whatever. We looked just as good.

In related news, I discovered a new and delicious drink that I implore you all to try. I call it "Tequila Ginger." It's tequila (duh), ginger ale (duh) and a splash of Sprite. I may or may not have had about 5 TGs by the time I took that last photo, which is why it may or may not look like I'm having a graaaaaaaaand time. Because I totally was.

And that, my friends, is Minneapolis in a nutshell. I promise we'll be back!

We should skip town more often.

We spent the weekend in Minnesota (more on that later, but teaser: I ate at SEVEN food trucks in one lunch sitting), and when we returned we were greeted by loads of progress on the new house. The garage footings are poured and the 1st level floor (or basement ceiling?) is started. I wonder what we'll see tonight?!

Treat yo'self.

So you recall my ohmygoshyouguys moment regarding the awesomesauce of Ben & Jerry's Late Night Snack ice cream, yes?

They've done it again, my friends:

Ben & Jerry's Greek Frozen Yogurt

Blueberry Vanilla Graham

First, let me say that I have always been a FIRM believer that fruit should keep its fresh and smelly nonsense out of the ice cream world. Chocolate, peanut butter and other candies only, thankyouverymuch. I also am not really a fan of Greek Yogurt (save the yummy commercials with John Stamos) and think it tastes particularly of raw sour cream. Ew.

However.

This ice cream ROCKED my world. It was gone in about 2 seconds flat. I strongly suggest you get some, like, now. Thank me later.

P.S. - The Greek Yogurt line also comes in Raspberry Fudge Chunk, Peanut Butter Banana, and Strawberry Shortcake. As soon as I find them and devour them, I will let you know.

Food truck MADNESS.

If you're my pal on Facebook, you know that last night was one of the best nights of my culinary life. The fine city of Royal Oak, Michigan, hosted its first evah Michigan Mobile Food Vendors Association food-truck rally. Eight (count 'em EIGHT) trucks were all parked in and around the Farmer's Market downtown. BRILLIANT. Over 3,000 people attended and all but one truck ran out of food over the course of the 3 hour event.

It. Was. Awesome.

Well, waiting in line for over an hour for street tacos and confit pork belly was NOT awesome (cue impatient 2 year old). But it was so fun to see a community coming out in droves to support local business (and charity! all tips went to a good cause). It was MADNESS in there. Exhibits A and B:

For those counting, I'm up to a grand total of 5 in my quest for "30 b4 30." I know that's not a lot...but the good news is that Royal Oak will be hosting this event the first Wednesday of every month, so I will have the opportunity to hit up all of the trucks we didn't have time/patience to wait for.

Waiting in line at El Guapo.

In summary: I love food. And I'm also impatient.

Panny-cakes.

We went out for breakfast on Saturday morning with some friends (hi, Kelly, Mark and Joyce!). Obviously, Alex had the "pannycakes." HOWEVER, when the waitress asked if we wanted the Mickey pancakes, who knew we'd get this little plate of awesome?

Mommy's pannycakes will never again be good enough. Time to start practicing...

The one time I was filmed for the Food Network.

Joey and I recently spent the weekend in Cleveland as part of our Anniversary getaway. On said trip, we had many adventures...front row seats at an Indians game, tickets to the Rock 'N Roll Hall of Fame, and many, many delicious restaurants to try. Most of them were on wheels.

She said whaaaaat?

You see, Cleveland has a pretty spectacular variety of Food Trucks - and they've grown in popularity recently due to Food Network's "The Great Food Truck Race." Detroit doesn't have any food trucks (tear), and since I have a soft spot in my heart for street vendors I was SUPER keen on trying as many as we could in our 3 days there.

So keen, in fact, that I decided to start a new quest, dubbed "30 B4 30," that is, to eat at 30 different food trucks before I'm 30. It's a lofty (and somewhat silly) goal, especially considering I will have to travel far and wide to meet this quota.

Anyway, word got out as we were waiting in line for some grub at a food truck by the name of JiBARO, and LO AND BEHOLD, the Food Network just happened to be there filming for a show on the Cooking Channel Called "Street Eats."

They were fascinated by my story - and intrigued that we had driven all the way from the Dirty D just to enjoy their meals on wheels. And so, they asked to interview us.

OBVIOUSLY, we said yes. Despite the fact that it was seventy trillion degrees out and I was sweating like a hooker in Sunday Mass, we totally rocked it. Joey threw out culinary descriptors that Bobby Flay himself would have envied. We laughed; we played to the camera; we were coy; we were foodies. We were brilliant.

So brilliant that the producer said the whole segment will be about us. FOR REAL. This is where I die and start signing autographs faster than Kate Gosselin in her hooker heels and too-short skirts.

The show airs on the Cooking Channel and we will be part of Season 3 which will start in April. I promise that I will shamelessly promote myself like the dude with the "Cash for Gold" sign on the street corner in Anytown, USA as soon as I know the exact air date.

Oh yes, I'm a famewhore.

As photographed by Food Network camera man.

Sneaky bid-ness.

Please take a moment to study this photo, taken a little over a year ago at a restaurant in Connecticut:

Now, I draw your attention to this photo, taken of my red-plate (more on the meaning of that next week) Mother's Day breakfast a mere two weeks ago. Yes, it was scrumptious.

Notice anything in particular? Hmmm??

MISTER ALEX IS A FOOD THIEF! Note to future dinner dates: watch your plates carefully!

Look What I Can Do!

Getting the hang of this whole "feeding myself" gig.

Sonntag.

Sunday in Munich was technically my "day off," but since Sundays are religious days in most of Europe, everything was closed. And by "everything," I mean all of the lovely shops that I wanted to buy things at!

Regardless, it was a lovely day. Two of my new fave colleagues took me around the city for some adventures and sightseeing. Munich did not disappoint.

This used to be the town hall. It was incredible.

I've never, ever seen anything like it.

Up in the main tower there was a clock with figures that
danced around when the clock struck certain hours.

This was the crowd gathered for the 11 a.m. "show."
It was SO neat!

A cool building we saw walking around.

A REAL maypole!
For those that get the reference,
Miss Linda would be SO proud!

I thought this was funny.

The building was under construction,

so they put a graphic of a church in front

of the scaffolding.

Inside the Hofbräuhaus. AWESOME.

Next, we took the Subway to Olympia Park.

Munich hosted the Summer Games in 1972.
We went to the top of that tower and got to
see a 360° view of Munich!

A view of Olympic Village
(where the athletes stayed) from the tower.

See the Swiss Alps? :)

We finished a long and awesome day of sightseeing
with dinner and drinks at Schneider Weisse Brauhaus,
where I had the most delicious bowl of pretzel soup.
Yeah, you read that right.
I also had a lot of beer, but that goes without saying.

Also? Sorry this recap is taking eleventy years. I have a katrillion pictures to go through and it's been seriously overwhelming to select just a few for le blog. I don't have much more to share, since Monday and Tuesday were "work" days, but I do have some fun pics and adventures from my layover in Amsterdam. Preview: I was violated by a customs officer and laughed at for not speaking Dutch. Because, you know, I have a Dutch husband or something like that.

What Day Is It?

Honestly, I have no idea. However, I do think I left off with the deets of Friday evening in Wuppertal.

After a looooooooooong day in the office, my German colleagues took me out for what they described as a "typical" dinner for the region. The restaurant was a little place called Cafe Restaurant Swartz and it was beyond charming. I have to keep reminding myself that this place is real, and not some dollhouse I've imagined in my mind.

Charming, no?

An English menu! I FINALLY knew what I ordered!

FWIW, I got schnitzel. Delish.

Local-ish brew.

Not the best I've had, but not the wurst.

Get it? Bwahaha.

I've got so much more to catch you up on--like going 125 mph on the Autobahn during the SIX HOUR drive to Munich--but for now, I must rest my sleepy head. I don't know that I've ever been this exhausted in all my life. But it's SO worth it!