I frequent Pinterest easily more than I frequent books, the gym, and showering combined; I can often be found pinning things related to reading, exercise, and personal hygiene. Like any good middle class female, I also have a board dedicated to foods that I will never get around to ever cooking ever in my life ever. Not because I don't like eating--the only thing I might do more than Pinteresting is eating--but because I'm terrible at recipes. They are always at either end of the spectrum of directions, either being far too specific or dangerously vague. Either way, I take them waaaaaaaaaaay too seriously. I will, and have, tossed an entire batch of ingredients because I accidentally put in 1/3 cup of something instead of 1/4. And if anywhere in the recipe it says, "Put in as much blah as you see fit," I physically run away from the cookbook.
I'm the kind of person who is terrible at cooking because, for things like cooking, cleaning, exercise, make-up, and dating, I for some reason grew up thinking that there was an exactly right way to do them that I missed out on learning, so now I always assume that I'm doing something wrong, and I don't really do any of them with any amount of success. Furthermore, I can't eyeball measurements, I have no concept of how much time is passing without an exact timer, and portion control is a myth perpetrated by big business to sell organs to children on the black market. Cooking and I are not buddies, but I sure like what cooking produces. You could say that I'm a parasite on the food industry.
One other trend amongst Pinterest recipes is the fucking cheerful god damn perkiness in every stupid dumb description. "This is a yummy snack your kids will just adore--and it's good for them, and for the family! I take one bite of this yummy yumminess and sunshine spills right out of my ladyhole!" Listen, ma'am (it's usually a ma'am), I like to think that you wouldn't have posted the recipe if it tasted like the inside of a monkey's taint. And don't tell me to "Enjoy!" or "Eat up!" at the end, because, duh.
"Oh, wait, I'm supposed to eat this now? Oh, wow. This just gets better and better!" said absolutely no one after cooking something. "Good thing they included that step in the recipe, huh?" said absolutely no one's best friend.
So here is my first attempt at posting my own recipe that is straightforwardly not bullshitting you, and will ironically have everything that I hate about recipes poured into one. Except for the cheerfulness.
Today, I will be making a smoothie. I drink smoothies a lot, because it feels like I'm doing something healthy while sitting on the couch watching season two of 30 Rock in its entirety for the eight hundredth time. And, to quell the worries of my darling mother, I will punish myself for any mention of alcohol by taking a shot of whiskey. This may seem more like incentive than punishment, but know that I am not very good at taking shots. At all. Getting them to stay down at all is some form of black magic, and not performed without really unattractive sounds and facial expressions. Also, I don't want to step on Hannah Hart's wonderfully drunken toes, so I'm really going to be on my best behavior today.
Admire now, dear reader, the specificity and integrity with which I create a culinary masterpiece.
Peanut Butter and Banana Smoothie
1/2 cup milk
1/4 cup instant oats
1 gob peanut butter
3ish ice cubes
1 Ninja blender
Optional: Chocolate syrup
My mom has a Ninja blender. It comforts me when I remember that I'm still living with my parents. You don't necessarily need a Ninja blender for this recipe, because any blender will do, I guess. I didn't realize that I needed a Ninja blender till I had one. This thing is the tits.
I don't have to cut my banana into small chunks because my Ninja does that for me. Moving on.
Add the milk. I don't care what kind; there's usually skim milk in this house which is healthier, but 2% is more delicious and I imagine will, in turn, make the smoothie more delicious. Today, we have 1%. This is apparently a household of inconsistencies.
Why a half cup? Because after some trial and error of making this smoothie, I found that when the milk goes up to a certain spot in the blender, it makes everything nice and smoothie-ish. One day I picked up the half-cup from where we keep the measuring cups and poured milk into it and, would you look at that, it reached basically the same spot in the blender cup. So really, I want to say, "Fill it to, like, there. Ish. How much is it? It's more than none and less than a gallon. Just make the damn smoothie."
What's left to add? Ice cubes? Sure, bring 'em on. I add 3 because [insert reason here]. Honestly, add as many as you want. Or as few as you want. Just don't add none. Nothing in this recipe is cold so far, and a warm peanut butter/banana smoothie is gross as balls, which are also gross. If you want a gross smoothie, do not add ice cubes and also add balls. Blend thoroughly. Enjoy!
It wouldn't be a peanut butter & banana smoothie without some peanut butter. I don't care what kind you use. I prefer the method of "use whatever is in the cabinet" when making anything.
Anyway, add the peanut butter whenever you want--none of these steps are in any particular order. It will not taste any different if you put the oats in before the banana, or the milk in after everything. I usually add peanut butter last because it has a lesser chance of getting smeared along the edge of the blender, where it will live until you find and battle the sinister Jif Witch to release you from the peanut butter curse bestowed upon your ancestors. Seriously, it is a bitch to clean.
I add one very scientifically measured gob of peanut butter, also known as a FAL (fuck-all lot) of peanut butter. Observe.
I first made this with chocolate peanut butter, and holy mother of crap was it tasty. Sometimes when I have regular peanut butter, I'll put in a squirt of chocolate syrup. I didn't promise a healthy recipe, you health nerds.
Is it all in there? Did I miss anything? No? Good. Blend it up, biotch. Make sure that people in your house are either sleeping or watching a quiet, dramatic scene in a movie to maximize your annoyance levels. What's the point of cooking if nobody knows you're doing it?
I have this smoothie for breakfast any morning that I actually have the ingredients for it. I'd drink it later in the day, too, but it doesn't mix well with alcohol, so there isn't much point--oh, GOD DAMMIT.
All of this is mine, except for the distracting funeral photo. I found that here. I'm not proud.
Also, in order to just upload videos straight to my blog, I would need to pay more money. So just trust me when I say that some Jack Daniels with my breakfast smoothie really ruined my breakfast smoothie.