Holly smokes guys. It’s election day! Boo-baaa-daa-daaumm. Did you all go down and vote? Bet your surely little whiskers I did. I have been in a constant state of abuzz wondering who will be the next leader of our country and if I have a mustache growing. Big deal stuff here folks.
Speaking of smoke. This pasta. Smokey shrimp, which happens to be uninhibitedly one of my favorite flavor combos just really makes for a nice, quick, toss together week night dinner.
I thought since it is now mid October and well into our fall season I be a good citizen American girl of the Auh-mericas and post a festive soup-ssha-loop.
It is bonkers simple. Even as I was typing the word bonkers I knew it was entirely wrong. Moving along…we are talking this soup can be prepared with your feet, while your eyes are blind folded and death metal is blasting in your face. Just don’t scorch any little piggies while doing so. Is that too much?
I guess this could be considered a cop-out. I’ve posted this recipe wh-hay back, and after going through some of my older posts, I become totally mortified. The pictures were so terrible! This was before I invested in a good camera. I know I’m no pro, but it needed updating.
I thought I needed to shred a little light upon this delicious dish. It has kind of become one of my signature dishes. I know, I’m kind of the real deal. I have people making requests on what they want me to cook. Whenever we have family coming, they always demand I make this. Notice; demand, like they have a Bo staff on hand and are going to whip me out if I don’t do as directed.
When I was young; like 5 minutes ago I used to L-O-V-E nachos.
We are talking Velveeta cheesey, gooey, drippy nachos. Not so much anymore. I actually kind of cringe thinking about something like that. This is my “refined pallet’s” take on what a nacho should be. All grown up and ready to meet the world. Wait is that me or the nachos? Oh right…nachos.
I have a serious rant I’m about to go on. Hold onto your umbrella hats because it’s going to get stormy up in HERe. OH, you don’t wear an umbrella hat? Well excuse me.
Okay…here is my serious tangent I’m about to embark upon. WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME THAT GAZPACHO IS THE MOST PHENOMENAL, TASTY, MOUTH-WATERING, LIFE ALTERING, GAME CHANGING, COLD SOUP OF ALL TIMES?!!!!!??!!
I’ve returned.
I soaked up that 100 degree weather as much as I physically could. I sat in the searing heat, cooking myself, breathing it all in, and loving every second. It was lovely and went down smooth.
Slap a bib on and get your pasta on y’alls.
If you’re anything like me you might end up with a random straggler corn kernel taking up residency inside your shirt. HEY…no judgement. This is a safe space and I’ve been there.
GO BIG GREEN. That was the simple cheer for my high school mascot; the mighty GERKA.
A Gerka to those of you unacquainted (and sorely missing out) in laymen’s terms: is a waving field of alfalfa hay. He is a big green alfalfa wave with white boxing gloves. Hold onto your hats folks because in lil’ old rural Nevada he was not a character to mess with.
Oh, this old thang? It’s nothing I promise. Just simply perfect grilled salmon (muchas gracias, cowboy) over a bed of corn relish.
Come Hither, and sit down.
Atkins Smatkins. I could never go on any sort of diet restricting me from carbs. I could be found in a dark closet somewhere stuffing my gullet with bread, muffins, scones, and cereal. It would be a bad situation, possibly requiring a team of intervention specialists to step in. Only a dirty bum wiggling his toes into this pasta might keep me away. Even then it is touch and go and I might resort to eating the entire bowl anyway.
My name is Adrienne Rhea and I live in the country. This is where most of my lollygagging takes place. I am a self proclaimed pie goddess who loves cooking and baking. I am cowgirl meets Rodeo Drive. Welcome to my world.
This Country Girl Cooks 