Grilled Corn on the Cob, Razorstyle — Heaven in Tin Foil

August 4, 2008|Comments (13)

Cooking without a recipe is one of my all-time most favorite things to do — especially if I know it will produce something amazing. This corn is so good that if eating it through a chain link fence were the only option — you’d do it without hesitation. Well, I would. Actually, I don’t know if I am physically capable but I know people who are, poor things.

Lay out some tin foil and paint an ear of corn with olive oil. You could even pretend that you are Bob Ross and add in lots of Bob Ross-ish commentary like, “And it looks like a cute little kernel of corn lives over here.”

Dust with finely grated Parmesan cheese (translation: cover completely with the cheese — roll the ear of corn in a bucket of the stuff — do whatever it takes to ensure that the MAXIMUM amount of the good stuff is on that corn). As if we have any self control when it comes to Parmesan!

Sprinkle with some garlic salt and freshly ground pepper. It’s probably best that you don’t burst into a Salt N Peppa song like I did on this step. You might frighten small children.

$wrap \'em up$

Wrap them up in the foil. You can either throw them on the grill right away or go and work on some other culinary masterpiece while these babies just sit and soak up the good stuff. Choose your own adventure, folks.

$grillin\' is chillin\'$

Throw them on a preheated grill and let them cook 20-30 minutes with the cover down — turn them once. Dig in. Moan. Wipe chin. Repeat.

Corn holders are nice to have. Get your own set though. Those babies are mine.

Posted by Simple Livin' gal | Filed Under Cooking, Food, Recipes | 13 Comments

A Life with Purpose

August 4, 2008|Comments (17)

Over the weekend, as Josh and I walked up to the top of the driveway with the dogs trotting along beside us, I thought about how just two weeks before I’d been on a completely different coast. Far away from my home, my simple life, and my heart-song. The setting sun sent its last golden rays down through the trees in the front lot of our home, catching the dust kicked up by the dogs and I held Josh’s hand while we watched in a comfortable silence. The slow and soft southern evening crept in around us with the scent of jasmine and gardenia, the sighs of the live oaks and pines, and the trumpeting chorus of tree frogs and katydids. A high breeze lifted the tallest branches of the trees and thunder rumbled in the distance though we knew it would not rain. I watched the silver-bellied leaves of the live oaks spin and imagined that I could hear the laughter of our children, picturing them racing after the Goldens over the thick padding of pine straw; lost in play. I could practically see them climbing on the fort that Connie gave us from her own yard.

The children. When I think about them, I can’t help but recall one of the questions that the interviewer asked: “Are church members, friends, and family behind you on the adoption?” We answered, without hesitation, “Yes.” On Sunday, I asked one of the ladies from our (now) old church to place us on the prayer list and included the names of the four children who have been on our hearts. As I gave her the names and excitedly told her that we were hoping to meet them before September, she said: “You have got to be kidding! That’s completely ridiculous! You’re kidding right? Four kids!” Of course, she meant it as a joke and even laughed but it was then that I realized that she and many others were behind us alright — as you would be behind someone if you’d worn a silk suit to the Shamu show at Sea World.

The truth is that I need to get ready for the judgments, funny looks, and the doubts. People are bound to think that we have bitten off more than we can chew. I can handle that. I can handle the negativity because I have a supportive group of friends but I worry about the children. Will these well-meaning folks see our children as “Josh’s and Lacy’s big mistake” or “those bad foster kids” and then accidentally make comments that reveal their true feelings where the children can hear? And as I enjoyed my evening stroll with Josh, the answer came to me: they are afraid for us because they do not understand our life. Simple living is anything but easy — the hours are long and the workload is stacked. The emotional payout is what is so huge and lasting. Our marriage is strong, our home is full of love and togetherness, and we are so ready to share this life with children. We have faith that it will work out and realize that it’s not going to be a smooth transition but nothing is effortless in this life.

Hard work is painful when life is devoid of purpose. But when you live for something greater than yourself and the gratification of your own ego, then hard work becomes a labor of love.~ Steve Pavlina