The crippling shame that accompanies frozen breakfast burritos.

I am not what one would refer to as domestic. I am in my 30's, I don't own a home, I can't knit, I don't have any kids (I have dogs I treat like kids, but that just makes me weird), and I don't shop from a list. 

Yeah, I know - I cook. Most people who say they're not very domestic can't cook for shit. But you see, while I cook all the time, I very rarely cook anything easy or practical. To me, cooking is supposed to be ridiculous. It's making dumplings from scratch at 9:30 on a Tuesday night or buying $40 worth of shit with the labels in Korean, not putting dinner on the table after work. I almost never do that. 

"But you probably do other things that are reasonably domestic," you say. I say probably not. 

Thursday night I had to attend an industry awards show with S. It's a somewhat fancy ordeal, with hairdos and cocktail dresses and things. I ran home from work and realized I had 1 hour to be ready. I put about 3/4 of a can of dry shampoo in my hair (which is the world's most amazing thing, if you haven't tried it), teased it until it could walk on its own, wrapped it into a 'messy bun' and then did my bangs in hopes that no one would notice I was wearing a coconut-scented tumbleweed on my head. 

You see, I was really counting on my dress to carry the brunt of my look. A few months back I bought two dresses for a formal wedding. The one I hadn't worn was sitting in my closet, tags still on. It's a pretty, dark green, sateen dress from French Connection with one shoulder and a bow and pleats and pockets and all sorts of delightful shit. 

Unfortunately, it was pretty wrinkled from being jammed in my closet for 4 months. Now - I have a steam cleaner, which works wonderfully to get the wrinkles out of nice fabrics. But, a) I had 15 minutes and b) I am a lazy asshole. Mostly B. So I decided to just use the steam setting on the $8 iron from Walmart that I keep jammed in the back of a cupboard, which I only own because I think adults are supposed to have irons.

I filled the water and turned it to the highest steam setting (FYI - this is also the highest heat setting. In case you're as dumb as I am). I got about half of the way across the skirt succesfully. Then that stupid piece of shit iron decided to stop steaming for just a moment, instantly melting a big, v-shaped spot in the crotch of my dress. 

COOOOOOOL. 

You'll be relieved to know that I didn't wear the dress.  Instead I wore a shirt I got for free, a $7 skirt from JC Penney, and some Naturalizers. It was better than it sounds. I think. 

Anyway - I'm not good at June Cleaver shit. And I'm not sad about it; I like to think of my skill set as urban and sophisticated. 

Yet, I did something terrible the other day. Not at all urban or sophisticated. In my quest to eat something reasonably healthy and quick for breakfast on weekdays... I made a set of freezer meals. 

You might not think there's anything wrong with freezer meals. But I have this image of the person who makes freezer meals in my head - they have a bob and wear button-downs and khakis and drive a mini-van and don't find those bracelets from Pandora to be a crime against humanity.

I am not a freezer-meal person.

I do yoga and have beachy hair and know what jicama is.

I AM NOT A FREEZER MEAL PERSON.

But then, it turned out that freezer breakfast burritos are f-ing awesome. And I just couldn't keep something like that from you. Pride be damned. 

I give you Make-Ahead Freezer Breakfast Burritos.

Heavily adapted from Bits of Everything.

These bad boys pack some legit stats: 262 calories, 4 g of fat, 7 g of fiber, only 10 mg of cholesterol, and 16 g of protein. THAT is BREAKFAST, bitches. 

You'll need:

• 8 large flour tortillas (I used La Banderita large soft taco tortillas)
• 1 red bell pepper, diced
• 1/2 a white onion, diced
• cooking spray
• 1 tube (14 oz) Gimme Lean sausage
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp pepper
• 1/8 tsp red pepper flakes
• 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
• 1 cup shredded queso blanco (drop or sub the cheese to make me vegan!)
• 2 cups frozen shredded hash brown potatoes

These are pretty easy, especially compared to my usual ridiculousness. You'll need one big skillet, some paper towels, and some freezer bags. 

Cut the tube of sausage into discs. It's MUCH easier to do this with the wrapper on. Just use a serrated knife to get through the plastic packaging. Remember to remove the plastic before you cook it (or don't, I don't care really).

Heat the skillet over medium heat and give it a generous spray of cooking spray. Cook the sausage discs until browned, then flip and cook the other side. Set them on paper towels to cool. 

Using the same skillet, add more cooking spray and saute the onions and peppers until translucent. Season with salt, pepper, smoked paprka, and crushed red pepper.  These bastards are SPICY. You may want to take it down a bit if you're not into spice. Add the hash brown potatoes, stir well, and cook until the potatoes are done, about 5 minutes. 

 
Dice the cooled sausage into little pieces. Add it to the pepper/potato mix and transfer the whole thing to your assembly area. 

Scoop 3-4 large spoonfuls of filling into each tortilla. Top with some cheese and roll 'er up. If you're unfamiliar with how to fold a burrito so that it doesn't bust open and go everywhere, here's the idea:

Put your filling in a line toward one edge of the tortilla.

Fold the sides in, and then the back edge closest to the filling.

Wrap that edge all the way over the filling and tuck it underneath.

Fold the sides in again and continue rolling until you're finished. 

Fold a paper towl in half and wrap the burrito in it. Place the burritos in freezer bags and you're in business. When you're ready to eat them, just heat for a minute in the microwave, flip it and go for another 30 seconds on the other side, and jam it in your face.  

Perfectly domesticated recipe here.

I cry at things. Here are some Cranberry Avocado Muffins.

S has learned my weakness. See, he and I watch a lot of movies. Neither of us have cable and I don't even have a TV, so Netflix and iTunes rentals make up the majority of our digital entertainment.

I'm not very good with emotions. I generally am not affected by things that upset or give joy to others, to the point that it is a noticeable quality of mine. S is easily the more sensitive (emotionally well-adjusted?) of the two of us.

That said - put anything even remotely sad or emotional on the TV and I turn into a weepy disaster. Exhibit A: last night we watched "50/50." It's a film about a young man fighting cancer. Naturally, I was blubbering at the end while S laughed gleefully at my sudden inability to control my feelings. Now, don't be mad at him - I'm a little rough around the edges. I show him little to no mercy when he feels things in situations that I find ridiculous, so he's earned the right to a little schadenfreude.

[Also, side note: Joseph Gordon Levitt is so ridiculousy sexy. He's such a good actor and he always does indie films and his dimples make my knees weak. Not the point of this post, but impossible to go on without noting.]

Back to where I was going: "50/50" is a sad, funny, well-written and well-acted film. You may be thinking "lots of perfectly normal people could cry at a movie like that."

Exhibit B: I have to change the channel whenever the Sarah McLachlan commercials for the Humane Society come on. 

Exhibit C: I cried at the trailer for "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close." Also, "War Horse." 

Exhibit D: My roommate came home once in college and thought something horrible had happened because I was crying hysterically. Turns out I was just watching "Beaches."

Still - I know - you're thinking this is all within the confines of reason. Let me continue.

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Coconut Ginger Pancakes with Lime Butter

I like Sundays, prior to 8 PM. I wake up and make plans to go to yoga and then decide to make breakfast and watch movies instead. By 8 PM I'm sad - I've realized that the weekend is over and begin to get depressed. I then become unable to grow tired, as though staying up is my way of rebelling against the dying of the light. I proceed to watch stupid movies or TV shows on Netflix until after midnight, making Monday morning even more miserable than is necessary. 

I question my logical decision-making abilities. 

This morning, I had my heart set on pancakes and an 11:45 yoga class. I got out of bed and began gathering supplies. Alas, one whiff of the milk and it was apparent that pancakes were not happening. I got sad, but then I improvised and got awesome (NPH). Thanks to the recent inventory of our 1950's style bunker of foodstuffs, I remembered a can of lite coconut milk in the pantry. Coconut Ginger Pancakes with Lime Butter were born and it became apparent that yoga was not happening. 

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