It has been an intense week. Admittedly ‘First World Problems’ kind of intense, but still…
We finalized Carlitos’ kindergarten for next year (figuring out a school for your child in NYC is no small feat…yes, even a public one), made the final decision about moving in June (nope), found out we need new tenants for our place in D.C. starting August 1st (this is more of a plug – know anyone who wants to live in D.C.?!? Email me!), and I also wore all three work hats in a span of four days (blog writing and conference details, tutoring and building client list, helping JKS Events at an amazing wedding she put on at the Mandarin Oriental).
Fit into this the regular work hours of my husband, the regular classes of my sons and me trying to make it to at least one spin class and I was beat by Saturday. However, we still packed in the family time this weekend. We had The Big Apple Circus on Saturday and a kids’ rock fest/mini carnival and then bowling on Sunday.
By Sunday evening I was ready to dunk my head into a trashcan full of jungle juice and my face into a triple chocolate cake with sprinkles. I was done. So done.
But we were still bowling and eating cheeseburgers and, you know, out in public. Plus, even if I really would have satisfied my need at that point, I had no idea where the closest frat party was located to find said trashcan of grain alcohol mixed with fruit punch. And who eats triple chocolate cake with sprinkles in Brooklyn anymore? A vegan ‘faux’ cupcake with locally grown pistachios and organic monkey blood from the bakery next door just wasn’t going to cut it.
Luckily, we were at a pretty hip bowling spot that also serves Blue Ribbon food and adult beverages.
I ordered a chocolate shake with Nutella and a shot of bourbon in it. $14 later I felt gross for drinking Nutella and my nerves were only vaguely soothed. And honestly, my nerves became just as ragged again once I thought about what else I could have done with that $14.
Like bought a whole tub of ice cream, jar of Nutella and at least a few nips of bourbon.
Yes, that’s when I remembered that I’m an idiot. (It takes a true idiot to forget so often that they are an idiot, folks.) C’mon Annie, you should have just waited 30 minutes until you left the bowling alley, stopped for supplies on the way home and then had three chocolate, Nutella, bourbon shakes in the comfort of your own home in your (ahem, stretchable) pajama pants in that nice little indent you’ve created for yourself on the couch.
This morning, as I was trying to figure out if I could possibly fit in a trip to the grocery store and liquor store (I couldn’t. Turns out, I am not actually Superwoman. Who knew?) in order to make some delicious deliciousness to consume during our Friday Night Lights marathon on Netflix tonight, I remembered something! I have made a similar shake in the past! On this very blog! Which still does nothing to help my lack of consumption of delicious deliciousness tonight! But I was clearly still excited! Cardboard! Shoe shine! Tree branch! Life was suddenly so exciting!
So, I am re-sharing that post today so that you and I can both make time (priorities!) to purchase all ingredients tomorrow and then consume them together (In spirit, obviously; I could never fit all seven of you in my apartment.) tomorrow night.
Alright, one final thing I want to share is a video by two gals that seem like they’d make really fun friends. There is so much crap on the internet at this point (Please try to keep snarky ‘No kidding!’ jokes to yourself, Mr. Clever.) but these girls have put together something truly creative and well-done, in my opinion:
You kind of want to try a McNuggetini, don’t you? I totally do. Their Bloody Bacon and Cheese looks bangin’, too. Perhaps we should all try making them and then have some sort of live-tweeting during or live Facebook chatting or something ‘techy’ like that?!?!
Well, you can’t say no to me live-tweeting my creation of and then consumption of the DAMN! tomorrow night. Follow along on Twitter. I’m sure I’ll be divulging horrible secrets or saying entirely innappropriate things by DAMN! number two. I’ll make it worth your while somehow.
Okay, get your shopping lists out…here’s the DAMN! blog post:
Insert Over-Used Joke About Milkshakes Bringing Boys to the Yard Here
But seriously. My milkshake? It brings the boys and the girls to the yard. And they are sprinting. For real.
In fact, my milkshake brings anyone over 21 to the yard. Or over 12, if you grew up in The Most Irish Town in America, like I did.
Yesterday I was attempting a momentary sanity re-boot by getting in touch with the outside world for a few minutes browsing articles on Huffington Post online. Carlitos was ‘reading’ a book (you’d be amazed how quickly you can blow through a book when you don’t know how to read the words) and Xavi was ‘reorganizing’ the clothing in his dresser. (How old do they have to be before I stop putting everything they do in quotation marks because they actually aren’t doing that at all?)
Obviously, because I only had a few precious moments to inform myself about the most important events of the day, I went straight to the Food section of the Huffington Post. Gosh, I wonder why I still have 45 pounds of baby weight to lose 9 months later.
(Don’t worry, I also understand that I should have been browsing something a little more sturdy like The New York Times or The Boston Globe, or even The Washington Post. However, I thoroughly enjoy knowing my news is coming at me sideways slanted. It’s juicier that way.)
Anyway, I saw The Most Amazing Article EVER. I immediately forwarded it to my husband (I’m pretty sure he loves all of the “Very Important! Read Immediately!” emails I send him throughout the day.) and said, succinctly, “Tonight!”
Poor guy. I can only imagine what he was hoping that email was about. Sad face.
I can tell you that this article did have me salivating. And you know what they say: Happy Wife, Happy Life! (Thanks for bringing us that gem, Teresa.)
So, this article. Are you ready?
Yeah, no words.
What a concept! What a combo! This is better than bacon in chocolate bars, chocolate rubbed lamb chops, craisins dipped in chocolate, Mexican hot chocolate, anything peanut-y and chocolate…
Dammit. Me and my predictable patterns.
My husband knew what to do. God, I love that man. He picked up two pints of ice-cream at our corner bodega on his way home. Vanilla (him) and chocolate (me) (Obviously. See above.)
The kids were put to bed immediately following dinner. Mommy’s got very important things to do, guys. Sorry. (I even gave them the ‘Carlitos shoulder shrug,’ that reads: ‘Eh, I’m just an angsty 13-year-old that doesn’t really care, but who is saying ‘sorry’ just to be kind of obnoxious.’ Yes, I know he is only 3 and yes, I know how much trouble I am in.)
Unfortunately, the article didn’t really give any recipes, so I went to work concocting my own version of the amazingness that is an Alcoholic Milkshake. Let me tell you, this was no small feat. I had to attempt several versions. Meaning, I really took one for the team. And meaning when I put too much vodka in that last attempt I was gifted with an immediate, pounding headache. Also, meaning I ended up consuming an entire carton of ice-cream. You’re welcome.
And now, because along with being dorky and lazy, I am also very, very generous, I will share my recipe with YOU. You lucky son of a gun. Just be nice and if you want to share this recipe with others, please offer them a link to my blog. i.e. No Stealing. Unless you want me to sic Carlitos on you. I am pretty sure you don’t want to end up with the ol’ calculator down the shirt punishment. Worse than the belt. Or prison.
Back to the important stuff. Here is how you create a little sip of Heaven:
Or as I like to call it, the DAMN! (Delicious Alcoholic Milkshake NOW!)
- To a blender, add about half a pint of ice-cream (vanilla, chocolate or coffee…or get creative. I promise I won’t give The Alcoholic Milkshake Police your address.)
- One or Two ounces of Vodka
- Two ounces of the coffee flavored liquor of your choice (We used Kahlua, but use whatever you have on hand. Fahlua. Kalooa. Whatever. I’m not judging.)
- One ounce of Creme de Cacao (This can be eliminated if you don’t happen to have it on hand. I like Holiday Cocktails, so we still had some lurking in our bar.)
- A splash of milk
- Now, BLEND.
Look! The Magic Bullet isn’t just for making baby food! And if I don’t wash the blade well enough Xavi is going to be tons o’ fun tomorrow after breakfast! Win-win!
- Pour into glasses (we just screwed on our little Magic Bullet covers, allowing for his to be vanilla and hers to be chocolate) and top with something fun. Cocao powder. Coconut. Chocolate syrup. Whipped cream. Confetti. Something.
- Get ready for a GOOD TIME.
Note: This milkshake is a little thinner than I usually like mine to be, due to the copious amounts of liquid happiness in the recipe. If you want yours thicker, just add less alcohol. But, uh, don’t expect me to ever be free to hang out with you on a Saturday night. Because you are obviously NO FUN. I’m kidding. Your enjoyment of milkshakes totally makes you *a little* fun, just not fun enough to hang out with me.
Secondary note: I may or may not have written this blog post after doing all of this recipe testing. But I did it for YOU – so don’t judge, okay?
You know you wanna….