A Whole New Life. Kind of.

If life is a big neverending circle then I guess I'm where I should be, back where it all began--living with my parents.

This admission brings with it a little bit of mortification (I'm almost 35 and living with my PARENTS?!) but the overwhelming feeling I have is gratitude. I'm so grateful my mom and dad have been so generous by allowing Carter and me to crash here for a bit while I get my legs under me and get started down a new path.

We moved in this past Monday. I packed the last of the things from the house in West Jordan, said goodbye to my friends, and looked ahead to a whole new life. Definitely not the life I ever, ever imagined for myself, but I think it will still be a good life. I'm not quite sure what the future holds for me, but that's what makes it exciting, no?

Carter started school on Tuesday, and he loves his new class and has fit right in. Being apart from Randy has been a little tougher for him, especially on Monday night. But routines are forming and he's feeling more comfortable with our new digs, so I think we will both be just fine. Quite frankly if he's happy, I'm happy.

The hardest thing I will have to face by living here will probably be the steady stream of Fox News and Rush Limbaugh, with a little German yodeling and polka music mixed in. (I love you, Dad!) But if that's all I have to complain about, life is pretty darn good!

Sad endings and new beginnings.

I think the time has come to talk about something I have studiously avoided ever talking about. But changes are coming, and this is the easiest way I could think of to get it out there.

To our families and close friends, it is not news that Randy and I have struggled for a long time now. Years, actually. We love each other dearly and love our children, but serious financial struggles, bad decisions on both our parts (Randy's related to work and finances, mine related to how I dealt with the situation as a whole), and our inability to find middle ground in our goals and desires have made it a hard four years or so. We have fought hard and attended more than a year of marriage counseling, but have not been able to make any headway.

This led to some serious conversations about our future together at the end of July. We basically had to decide whether we saw a future that we could work toward to make our marriage happy again, which I believed (and still believe) it could be. After months of conversations about it, and bargaining, and sadness, we decided two weeks ago to divorce.

Randy and I are both heartbroken. But whereas I think that (granted, with a lot of work) we could make a happy future, he thinks it is best to move on. And so we will. And we will be ok.

Since our conversation in July, I had known this was a possibility and was quietly making plans about what I would do if things turned out this way. My mom and dad, who recently moved back here from Minnesota and are in the process of closing on a new home, have offered to let Carter and I live with them as long as needed. Hopefully, we will only be imposing on them until my job at Cottonwood Heights becomes a full-time position--probably in the middle of next year. (On a sidenote, how grateful I am to my Heavenly Father for helping me be able to provide for my family. I know it's not an accident that my parents just happened to move out here now, after trying to sell their house in MN for 16 months, and that I was hired to work for the city. They are deliberate blessings, for which I am so thankful.)

A lot of my things are now in storage (thanks to my personal moving company--my family). As soon as my parents close on their house and get settled, we will be moving in with them. That will probably happen sometime before the end of October. Randy will be staying here at the house for a few months until he finds another place to stay.

Brendan, Camryn, and Carter are all aware of what is happening. I am saddest for them. I know it can't be easy, especially for Carter who has only been able to grasp that he will miss his dad. But we will work through it. We love them more than ever, and I know we will all be OK.

I'm so grateful for my family and my friends who have seen me through this, and will probably be helping to prop me up for a while to come. They help me to be strong and keep me moving when I would rather pull the covers over my head and hide.

More than anything, I want anyone who reads this to know that I love Randy and I want him to be happy. I don't want anyone to judge him harshly. I don't want anyone to judge ME harshly, either. We did our best. I wish we could be happy together, but if that is not possible I just want him to find the joy he has been searching for.

I ache for the end of all the good things we've experienced in the last nine years. But I find hope in the knowledge there are good things to come for both of us.

(And on a much lighter note, thanks to my sweet boy Carter for choosing a new background for my blog.)

Do I look illegal?

The immigration debate.

Ahhh, what an intense debate it has become, and the feelings that go along with it are equally as intense. It's sad, however, that the debate has become less about what we can do to correct our immigration laws and how to help the millions of immigrants that live and work (and YES, PAY TAXES) here, and more about targeting "illegals," mostly hispanics, and using racism as a basis for expelling "unwanted" members of our society.

Did you know that neo-nazi groups have taken to patrolling our border? Doesn't that make you even a little nervous? (I won't even get started on the Tea Party.)

Did you hear about "The List" of 1,300 supposed illegal immigrants (many whose names are on the list say they are here legally), ALL LATINOS, which was compiled by at least two Utah state workers? They were trusted with confidential information, but chose to break the law in the name of their racist opinions instead.

Let me be clear: I am not in favor of letting in everyone who wants to cross our borders. I firmly believe that our immigration laws are flawed and in need of a major overhaul. I also believe that our borders need to be tightened.

However, I DO NOT believe in harassment and hatred. I DO NOT believe that all illegal immigrants are criminals. I DO NOT believe that we should "kick 'em all out!" as others would like.

I believe that we should care for PEOPLE, no matter where they come from. I believe that we should understand everyone's story before we rush to judge. I believe that mercy and charity are the foundation of Christianity, unlike many of the "Christians" who sit in judgement in their luxurious homes (by the world's standards) with everything they could possibly need and decide who does and who does not have the right to try to provide those same basic needs for those they love. I am completely convinced that most people who think that immigrants should just "go home" don't truly understand what it's like in those countries. If their situations were reversed, I guarantee they would be clamoring for a chance to come to the USA, even if they had to come here illegally.

Most of all, I decry the use of race as a basis for determining if someone is "illegal" or not. It gives hateful people an excuse to act on their most deplorable beliefs.

I read this article in the Salt Lake Tribune today, and I agree with it 100%.

"When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle." Edmund Burke

Spike's Dad.

Read this. Just.....read it. For me. And for you. Enjoy!

Words of Wisdom.

As I chronicled here, I have spent the last nine months working at Jordan Valley School, a school for kids with disabilities severe enough that they won't succeed in a typical classroom. This last week, the school sponsored a bike fair and got all of the kids in the school to participate by drawing posters with safety tips. Then, the posters were plastered all up and down the halls of the school. They are AWESOME! So I thought I'd share some of the posters with all their words of wisdom. (Not all of it relates to bikes, as you'll see.)

"The Fringe Benefits of Failure."

Without going into detail, let it be said that Randy and I have not had the easiest go of this whole "life" debacle in the past few years. While I'm enormously grateful for him and for our family and the blessings of a roof over our heads and food to eat, we have also been facing "failure" full in the face and trying to come to grips with what that means about us personally. It's not a fun process.

Today, I watched this video on a whim, and I am starting to realize that failure does not comment on what I am but rather what I have the opportunity to become.

J.K. Rowling Speaks at Harvard Commencement from Harvard Magazine on Vimeo.

Best quote: "Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena where I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realized and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life."

So three cheers for rock bottom...and the fact that I refuse to be here for long.

Bizarre Rainbows.

Today, Carter and I were driving home from the preschool when I looked up and saw this:

...a straight rainbow! I've never seen anything like it. It stretched in a straight line across part of the sky--not in a bow like a traditional rainbow or in a circle like a circle around the sun. And it SHIMMERED...I'll swear it on my life.

To myself I muttered, "What IS that?? It's so bizarre!"


To which Carter replied, "Some rainbows are just bizarre, Mom." Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

In other news, I got this in the mail today:

It's official.

Bizarre rainbows, indeed.

The Best Mother's Day.

Yesterday, Randy treated me to a morning of pampering as my Mother's Day gift. He took Carter to work with him for the morning while I attended two appointments--one for a hot stone massage (PERFECTION) and one for a hot-towel facial (TO DIE FOR). That, combined with cards from Carter and Randy this morning, made me think my day was complete.

And then Carter said the blessing over breakfast this morning.

"Heavenly Father, I'm thankful for my mom and that she's so good to me. Bless Daddy's headache that it will feel better. We're thankful for our food and our house and our family. Bless them to be strong. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

I helped raise that sweet, earnest, compassionate kid! And with all my mistakes and blunders and the trials of being a mom, in that moment I felt deeply and eternally honored and blessed.

May your Mother's Day be as wonderful as mine has been!

PS--I LOVE YOU, MOM!

The Chaos Theory

Here's my theory about Chaos: Chaos happens because the Forces of the Universe combine to bring the various people and interests in your life together in a nebulous, swirling cloud. And then said Forces, chuckling to themselves mirthlessly, drop said nebulous swirling cloud into one short week of one month of one year of your little, supposedly important life. Behold: CHAOS.

OK, that description could be a little overdramatic. And to be honest, I like a little chaos every now and then just to shake things up. But I think the Forces went a little overboard a couple of weeks ago.

This is my sister Kiirstin.

Isn't she pretty? She's even prettier when you consider that this picture was taken mere hours after she gave birth to my new nephew Henry on April 17. (And yes, she might kill me for posting this photo.)

And thus began my Week of Chaos. Lovely chaos, because many good things came of that week. But boy-howdy, I was EXHAUSTED at the end of it. So here is the rundown, with explanations and pictures. I warn you: reading this super-long post is going to take some concentration. If you suffer from ADHD, stop reading now.

Friday, April 16, 5:30 pm
A very nice receptionist from the city of Cottonwood Heights called me and asked if I would be interested in having an interview with the city manager and HR director regarding the Public Relations Specialist position I had applied for the previous week. I calmly accepted, scheduled the interview for the following Monday, thanked her, then hung up the phone and proceeded to have a mini-anxiety attack. (Did I tell you I suffer from a mild anxiety disorder? Hmm. Well, that will play a part in the week to come. Stay tuned.) Kiirsti and her daughter, who had spent most of the day with me after she had a doctor's appointment to strip her membranes (ladies, you know what I'm talkin' 'bout), went home soon after that.

Friday, April 16, 9:50 pm
My brother-in-law Kurt called and very sweetly asked if I would be willing to stay the night at their house with Kinsley that night since they were going to the hospital to "have Kiirsti checked." Yeah right, Kurt. They don't "check" full-term pregnant ladies whose contractions are four to five minutes apart! I packed a bag and made it to their house in record time, then sent them on their way.

Saturday, April 17, 7:30 am
No baby yet. So I packed up Kinsley and took her to my house where Saturday festivities were in full swing. (Saturday festivities = everyone in their pajamas watching TV).

Saturday, April 17, 9:16 am
My parents, on the second to last leg of their journey from Minnesota to Utah to see the new baby, are chatting with me on the phone about when we think Kiirsti will have her baby. My dad gets pulled over by a cop. After laughing loudly at him, I hang up. Kiirsti chooses this exact moment to give birth to Henry Gerald Meng. Happy Birthday, little Henry! Hopefully you don't grow up to be a criminal like your grandpa!

Saturday, April 17, 11:15 am
We ate...

....so that Carter can be on time to his 12:00 soccer game--the first of the season and the one in which mom and coach messed up and didn't get him his jersey.

At least we remembered shin guards.

Saturday, April 17, 5:00 pm
I sent the family to Brendan's football fundraiser dinner--a luau. I then took Kinsley to meet her new baby brother and see Mommy and Daddy.


Then, I took Kinsley home with me to stay the night with us.

Sunday, April 18, 1:00 pm
After sleeping in and generally being lazy, I took Kinsley to the hospital again to see Kurt, Kiirstin, and Henry and to meet up with my parents, who then took Kinsley with them to my brother Cameron's house in Eagle Mountain. (Sadly, Kurt's uncle had passed away only a few days before, and since the funeral was on Monday, they were expecting to have houseguests through Monday night. With everything else going on, Mom and Dad took Kinsley with them to make things a little easier on Kurt while Kiirsti was in the hospital.)

Monday, April 19
I dropped Carter off at my friend Renae's house and went to work at the preschool. I took a change of clothes and then tried to keep my hair and makeup nice through four hours of playing so that I could look professional for my job interview with Liane Stillman and Linda Dunlavy at 1:45. The interview went well. However, my anxiety reared its ugly head again. I had already received many calls and texts and emails of reassurance from family and friends, but the minute I walked into the room my hands went from being sweaty to being ice cold. My underarms were soaked. I know I must have maintained a calm exterior, but in my brain I just tried to control my breathing enough to answer their questions.

After the interview, I drove home kicking myself for everything I thought I'd done wrong and vowed to bury myself in food. I did this by cooking dinner for my parents and my sister and her family and spent the evening with them--still stressing out over the interview.

Wednesday, April 21
My brother Cameron and his daughter Leah met my parents and me at a Trax station, and we headed downtown to the Church History Library to meet with....

...Marlin K. Jensen, member of the Quorum of the Seventy and lead historian for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My mom donated some documents that had belonged to my grandfather, who had worked closely with the leadership of the Church during his career with the Genealogical Society. Elder Jensen was very kind and very interesting. (He's also shorter in person than he is on TV during general conference. But...everyone's short to me, I guess.) It was a great visit--and probably the last time I'll EVER see the fourth floor of the Church History Library.

Thursday, April 22
This is pretty much all we did when hanging out with my parents that week:

Grandpa tickled the kids, took them for walks to look at birds with the binoculars, and fed them candy while Mom cooked and cuddled the babies and bestowed liberal amounts of chocolate pudding. And then, in the midst of all this family togetherness, Linda called from Cottonwood Heights to ask if I would kindly come to city council meeting the following Tuesday in order to be INTERVIEWED BY THE ENTIRE CITY COUNCIL. Granted, I have met all of the city council members many times before, but this did not stop my little friend, Anxiety, from becoming my constant companion for the next five days.

Friday, April 23
Carter and I attended Kindergarten orientation at the neighborhood school. Carter ate cookies and colored pictures in his new classroom while I was made to realize what an ineffective mother I am for not having Carter's immunizations up to date, nor his vision and hearing screenings and Kindergarten checkup finished. The family barbecue made up for it, though. We ate lots of food and cuddled babies. And then we watched Nacho Libre. It was a good night.


Saturday, April 24
More soccer.

But the highlight of the day was lunch with one of my absolute favorite people in the whole world, my friend Jen Davis. She was in town with her dad, Mark, to see her brother Jordan graduate from BYU.

We ate at Bajio, talked for two hours, and had a great time. I love my Jencita so much, and I hate that she lives so far away!


Sunday, April 25
My parents left. :(

Tuesday, April 27, 9:00 pm
My interview. The Thing I had been dreading and anticipating for five days. Before I left home, I texted Randy and asked him to give me some words of encouragement. Then I put on my game face and left to face my doom.

On my way to the city offices, I received these texts from Randy:

"John F. Kennedy once said, 'When written in Chinese, the word 'crisis' is composed of two characters: one represents danger and the other represents opportunity.'"

"And to quote one of your favorite authors, Henry David Thoreau, 'Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.'"

And then this:

"And another brilliant man, Randy, said, 'I love you and you are the perfect person for this position. The council is not interviewing you to find reasons not to hire you...only looking for confirmation that you are the right person for the job. You'll do great.'"

I nailed the interview. The next afternoon, they offered me the job and I accepted. I start my new job on June 3.

So--I present to you all of the above evidence that my definition of the chaos theory is completely true. But I'll take a Week of Chaos anytime if it means I and my family will be blessed because of it. Now, looking back, I wouldn't trade that week for anything.

Ketchup.

Ok, so it's been a while. A little over a month, to be exact. Yes, I admit my gloomy week turned into an extended hiatus from blogging, but not because there was nothing happening. So let's play "ketchup," shall we?

--We have decided to use part of our tax return to finish a room downstairs for Brendan. Right now, his room looks like this:





It gets darn cold down there in the winter, although it's quite nice in the summer. And before you call child protective services, please understand that I've invited Brendan to move back upstairs numerous times and he refuses. He's just not too keen on having to share a room with little Carter and be bound by his bed/nap times and such. I can't say I blame him.

--We also used a little bit of our tax return to get some much-needed clothing for our kids. You see, when in the midst of a financial crisis (or financial cri-SES), things like clothing and shoes and such utter nonsense get placed quite hastily on the backburner of our lives. And so, with a little money in our pockets, we indulged the kids. And then,

--Randy indulged ME by inviting a business friend of his to our house to evaluate my closet and take me shopping.

This is Sarah. She's an image consultant and jewelry designer who is also part of Randy's small business networking group. As a surprise, he gave her some money with which to buy me some clothes, invited her to the house, took the kids, and left. And I was alone with....her. Any woman like me (one with issues. I mean SERIOUS issues.) would have reacted the way I did in the face of her cool sophistication, fashionable breeziness and shopping savvy--I started to get sweaty, I had a hard time looking her in the eye, and I began to think over all the clothing in my wardrobe and immediately decided it was all frumpy and I hated it. EVERY. SINGLE. PIECE.

And then 20 minutes later we were best buddies, heading to the mall to try on millions of outfits and be brutally honest with each other. We (or I, at least!) had a blast. Sarah helped me choose some good solid wardrobe staples and made me try on some things I NEVER would have tried on myself, which was good for me. All in all, I was completely happy with our session.

So, men (or sneaky wives who need some pampering and are good at dropping hints), go to her websites and see what she has to offer. She's AMAZING. (And thanks to my sweet husband for putting it all together!)

Cable Car Couture
Blue Bijou

--Carter has a new favorite game. It's called Cash Cab.

(I'm totally attracted to this guy in a "You seem really nice and funny, but there's something in your eyes that makes me think you could rob someone at knifepoint in a dark alley" kind of way. It's one of my issues.)

On the TV show, you get in a cab, answer trivia questions, and many people walk away with a couple of thousand dollars. In Carter's version, he climbs into my mom-taxi and then begins grilling me with questions like, "What is your middle name?" and "What street do you live on?" and "When is my birthday?" It doesn't seem like it would be that funny, but I'm telling you, the kid knows how to work it. He has his TV gameshow hosting duties down to a T. So, dear reader, next time you ride in my car, I'm putting YOU on the hot seat.

--I applied for YET ANOTHER job. (I know, I know, enough with the "trying to find your destiny" crap, Stephanie.) But this is the one job that I promised myself I would apply for if it ever came up.

Until three months ago, I worked for a small community newspaper called the Valley Journals covering Cottonwood Heights' city government. Two weeks ago, the city opened a job for a part-time Public Relations Specialist. My heart just about dropped through my feet, and I applied the following Tuesday. I would LOVE this job, the salary is phenomenal, and I would be able to spend more time home with Carter than I am now. So we've got our fingers crossed that it works out. I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, that's about it for now. On my honor, I will be better at updating the blog. Now, don't you wish you had a nice hot dog to go with all that ketchup?

Gloom.

I'm having a week. I don't have them very often, but this is one of them.

So, I present the folks of HEE HAW, who express my feelings so much better than I can. And with nifty overalls.

Uncanny.

I think this man--whoever he is--is living the EXACT SAME LIFE as me. Weird.

Scenes from a cell phone camera.

It's been a while since I transferred pictures from my phone to my computer. I found some cool stuff.



These are my men. So alike. But they're cute so I'll keep them.



This is Chef Adalberto Diaz. He taught me and my sister Kiirstin how to make all kinds of bread during a cooking class at a bistro called The Blue Lemon in Alpine, UT. I almost asked him to run away with me just so that he could cook for me for the rest of my life--even though I'm married and he's about a foot shorter than me.



This is the pizza he cooked for us. That's fresh pizza sauce, prosciutto, fresh mozarella and tomatoes. Eat your hearts out. (PS--I successfully replicated this crust at my house last week. Because of this, I am planning a gourmet pizza party, my friends!)



I posted this on facebook, but I still find it laughable. What's a woman to do--stay true or go rogue?



These guys are part of my Wednesday night volleyball crew. I love me a good game of volleyball!



Fact: I love the Olympics. Fact: Carter was forced to love the Olympics, too. he became so enthralled with Apolo Ohno that I decided to take him ice skating at the Olympic Oval in Kearns, UT.



He tried to be brave and let go of his old man walker a few times.



But he felt more comfortable like this. He made it all the way around the oval eventually, though. I was proud of my little man.



I hate the pre-springtime brown yuckiness in Utah. But last week, all the snow melted and it actually got warm enough for Carter to go outside to play without whining the whole time. It was nice to get out of the house (despite the admittedly redneck swingset).



This last weekend, we packed up the fam and drove to Island Park, ID, where Randy's family has a cabin. We snowshoed and snowmobiled, drank hot cocoa and ate junk food, played the Wii and watched movies. And Camryn had her first honest-to-goodness snowball fight. (We had three of them to be exact.) All in all, a great weekend. It was nice to escape for a while.

The end.

A Little Bit of Innocence Lost.

Today, in the car on the way to a training for my job, Carter and I had a moment. It was not a particularly pleasant moment (for me), and I hadn't really realized until it was upon me that I would have to meet this particular challenge at some point. (I think it was like most parenting challenges--you know you have to tell your kids about unpleasant things at some point or do the whole "tough love" thing, but it's never quite as hard in your mind as it is in real life.)

This morning, my son learned about war.

Our war. Our warS.

We were listening to NPR's Morning Edition, and the lead story after the news update was an in-depth report about the suicide car bomb attack in Kabul, Afghanistan this morning. 17 people died. People were shooting at other people. You know, the same kind of news headlines that have become all too common, and therefore have faded into our subconscious mind. They are now just a fuzzy background noise that accompanies all of the "real" stuff going on in our quiet lives here in the states.

But for Carter, it was like a lightbulb went on.

"Mom, who was shooting?" he asked.

I paused and then explained that some people don't like other people, so they use guns to hurt them. I asked him if that was an OK thing to do, and he replied that it was not.

"But, why did they do that?" he asked.

"Because they are in a war," I said.

"What's 'war?'" he asked again.

I turned off the radio. I tried to figure out how to explain hatred and terrorism and politics to a four-year-old who has never had to deal with any of those things before. And tears came to my eyes.

This was the moment when Carter was going to start to see the world for what it is a lot of the time: a scary, hate-filled, uncertain place. This was his first look into all the things that make all of us parents fear for the future of our children. This was his first step out of innocence.

I DID NOT want to have that conversation. But I did. I told him that when lots of people fight lots of other people, it's called a war. I told him that it's sad because people get hurt.

He was fine with that explanation. We talked a little bit more, and then he seemed satisfied and let the topic drop. I didn't tell him that hate-filled people killed almost 3,000 Americans on Sept. 11. I didn't tell him that a sadistic, empty-souled tyrant named Adolf Hitler killed 6 million people almost a century ago. I didn't tell him that there's a good chance that he'll have to live with wars of one kind or another for his entire life.

Am I over-reacting? Maybe. I know that he still feels safe here at home with his family and that what we talked about today will probably not affect his day-to-day life at all right now. But a seed has been planted. A precedent has been set. And it makes me sad to think that this is the day he learned that people hurt and kill other people, a concept he will now begin to witness every day for the rest of his life.

And so it begins.

Green with......

I took these...



...and made these...



...so Carter and I can make cute things like this...



...and ended up with this.



Oops.

The volleyball crew is not going to let me hear the end of this tonight. It's hard to take a spike seriously when it's hit by a hand like that. *sigh*

I think it's time to invest in some rubber gloves.

Give it up for the Greeks.

Anyone who knows me knows that I adore food--good, well-seasoned food and lots of it. And though I love all types of food (except tofu and tripe) Greek food is what I crave a lot of the time. Not only is Greece the birthplace of philosophy and mythology, it's also the cradle of civilization when it comes to seriously yummy eats.

My obsession with all things Greek comes as no surprise to my old co-workers at APX Alarm. When I was pregnant with Carter, I ate Greek food from a little restaurant a couple of miles from the office almost every single day. For at least two months, it was pretty much the only food I ate, period. I never got tired of it. It was so much of a sure thing, in fact, that my friend Lindsay remarked one day, "Steph, I'm really concerned that your baby is going to come out Greek." He didn't, but I probably wouldn't have minded.

Skip ahead five years to present day: specifically GIRLS NIGHT OUT tonight! I got put in charge of making a pasta salad for dinner. I decided that instead of making a run-of-the-mill Mormon pasta salad (though they're also very yummy), I wanted to make a Mediterranean pasta salad. I thought about it for a few days, and with a little help from the internet I came up with the most divine pasta salad EVER in the history of salads! Ok, I may be exaggerating and it could prove to be a huge flop at our shindig tonight, but to me it tastes like the holy grail of pasta salad.

So, long story short, here's my first-ever recipe! It may still need some tweaking depending on the response it gets at the party tonight, but it's still pretty darn good. I hope you like it!

Stephanie's Mediterranean Pasta Salad (I'll think of a better name for it later.)



Ingredients:

Salad--

16 oz. Rotini pasta, cooked to al dente, drained and cooled
1 large cucumber, diced
3 vine-ripe tomatoes, diced
1/2 red onion, diced really small
1 cup pitted kalamata olives, roughly chopped
3-4 oz. crumbled feta cheese
1/4 c. chopped fresh parsley

Dressing
(Note: I modified this recipe from a similar one I found on Allrecipes.com. It can be used for any type of salad, and I think you could probably also use it as a marinade. This recipe makes more than you need to dress the salad, so pop it in an airtight container and keep the leftovers in the fridge for a few weeks....though I doubt it will last that long.)

1 c. good quality extra virgin olive oil
1 c. red wine vinegar
1 t. garlic powder
1 t. dried oregano
1 t. dried basil
3/4 t. pepper
3/4 t. salt
3/4 t. onion powder
3/4 t. dijon mustard

Combine all the ingredients for the dressing in a large mixing bowl. Using a wire whisk, beat the heck out of it until the mixture has emulsified. Set aside. (You can even make this a day in advance to allow the flavors to blend.)

In a large serving bowl, combine all the salad ingredients. Pour some of the dressing mixture over the top. Toss the salad together and then taste it to adjust the amount of dressing if needed. Serve with grilled chicken or steak kababs or just eat a huge bowl of it all by yourself. Live and let live, I say.



P.S.--Trying out recipes is hard on my kitchen.