Rainbow Chasin'

SURF REPORT: April 21, Grandview: JUNK. Only person out is a lady in a garbage bag walking her golden. She must think I am crazy...



This morning, I hopped out of bed a bit late – 6:30 AM - dosed the cat with her steroids, started the coffee pot, and gazed out the window at what they are calling our “unseasonable rain showers”. Well, it’s a little overcast out the kitchen, but the sun is trying to break through… Remembering that ridiculously high number on the scale at Miz T’s house this weekend… I decide my fat a$$ needs to risk a few raindrops.


Let me back this up a bit for you. I don’t own a scale. I don’t believe in them, I think as long as you are happy with how you look, numbers don’t matter. Numbers LIE to you and tell you you’re fat. Your expensive designer jeans however… they don’t lie. And I did happen to notice that I only have two pairs that relieve the stuffed sausage look of my thighs lately… so when I visited my best friend, I got a little curious.

Remember when I said “If I ever hit 140 I’ll worry about it”?

I lied.

Turns out 138 is all it takes to make an otherwise sane skinny girl insane.

“But you have cowboy boots and jeans on!” Miz T exclaims… and it does not matter. That is 13 pounds of happy fat. Who knew that ditching a loser Australian and miserable corporate job would make me THAT happy? Whew… no wonder those denim leggings aren’t working out…

So, despite the menacing BLACK – not gray – cloud looming over the ocean, I pull on my Uggs and start over the tracks. How bad could it be, this is Leucadia. It’s kinda like Camelot of hippies. “The rain may never fall till after sundown…”

Out my door, I immediately run back in the house to grab my camera. RAINBOWS! Yes, folks, as you can see from the picture, it turns out

The Leucadian is the end of the rainbow.

Who knew?

Across the tracks, a light misting begins. But my feet are happy and dry in my Uggs, so whatever… I’m from Seattle; cloud spittle does not bother me. But what is that noise? It’s familiar, like the jungles of Costa Rica… It's...

OH GEEZUS - It’s the sound of torrential down pour on palm fronds!

WTF?

Where is this coming from, the sun is shining all around me! Nowhere to hide, running home would make no difference in the level of soaked. I continue to the beach. Another 30 seconds and the storm is gone as fast as it appeared. Just long enough to make an unfamiliar smush in the toes of my Uggs. Boo! More coffee…

But it did give me those precious few minutes to decide on my first recipe to share. This one is totally made up, idea stolen from my favorite restaurant in the ‘hood. It’s been tested over and over, and proven to be yummy. I even served it to my chef muse, Miz Martini, and she liked it so much that she stole the recipe too! So here we go:

Roasted Red Pepper Salad

INGREDIENTS:

-One really red red pepper, ribbed and seeded, cut in quarters longways.
-One package of herbed chevre. The real stuff people, with the goat on the front. Not that fake “goat cheese” crap. REAL chevre.
-Fist full of baby spinach
- Olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt and pepper to taste.

DIRECTIONS:

1. Pour yourself a glass of wine.
2. Blister pepper slices under the broiler, skin side UP. This does not take long, so watch them!
3. Pull out pepper slices, flip, and stuff with herbed chevre. AKA spoon goat cheese goodness onto the insides of the peppers kinda like you would sour cream and cheddar on a potato skin. Pop under the broiler till melty and lightly golden on top.
4. Toss spinach with a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. Make a pretty bed out of this concoction on a plate.
5. Pull stuffed pepper slices out of the oven and nestle onto your bed of spinach.

There you are friends! Good and light eatin' for one. Enjoy the April Showers!