Listen.
Those cinnamon rolls were just the literal icing on the cake of food sins I committed in the last few days at the ranch. Forgive me, Jillian Michaels, for I have sinned; it’s been one week and 80,000 calories since my last confession or Shred workout or whatever.
I love that so many of y’all left comments or sent emails and have been all “Yeah, yeah, yeah you rode a horse. WHO CARES? What about the food?” It’s why I feel so close to you. Because as much as Peso and I had some precious time together riding on the prairie, it paled in comparison to how good this bread was that we ate with dinner Tuesday night.
When I took my first bite, I felt tears come to my eyes as I shoveled more in my mouth while asking, “Oh my word what is in this bread it is the best thing I have ever tasted.”
(Because apparently I use run-on sentences when I ask about delicious food)
Ree replied with an answer that would cause cardiologists everywhere to go ahead and buy that summer home on the lake they’ve been thinking about, “I just put a stick and a half of butter on each half of a loaf of french bread and bake it at 350 degrees until it kind of carmelizes.”
A stick and a half of butter.
On each half loaf.
Sure, it sounds like a recipe for heart disease but think of all the calcium.
The first night we were there we ate some jalapenos filled with cream cheese and wrapped in bacon, which was perfect because I love any recipe that combines my three favorite food groups.
And then Tuesday night we started with some homemade pico de gallo that was later mixed with some avocado. Together they were the most perfect pair since Donny and Marie.
(Please keep in mind that I am not a food photographer. I just play one on the blog.)
(Also, I didn’t get a picture of it mixed with the avocado because that would have required me to stop eating.)
When dinner was served, this is what it looked like.
I wish I could give more specific details, but I’ll tell you what I know. The meat was slathered in more butter and sprinkled with salt and pepper, then cooked. The corn had some sort of cream in it and something else and it was delicious. And the potatoes were full of yet more butter and some sour cream for good measure.
(The above descriptions are not exact recipes given the vague and probably inaccurate list of ingredients)
I could cry just thinking about the goodness.
I could also cry because I miss the Sponge Bob figure that Ree’s youngest son left at the Lodge for me to play with if I wanted to.
It’s not everyday that a little boy lets you borrow his horse and his Sponge Bob.
But it’s also not everyday that you eat about a pound of butter on one plate.
Sadly, it was time to head home yesterday so we said our goodbyes, grabbed our cinnamon rolls and hit the road, but not before I took one last look at the view from my bedroom window.
And at the pantry that caused me to add coveting to my list of sins.
And then we said what felt like an inadequate thank you to Marlboro Man and Ree for all the good times and good food. They are the best.
However, our day wasn’t over because when Shannon dropped Sophie and me off at the Tulsa airport, we met up with Kelly, her mama, and sweet little Harper. It was so much fun getting to meet them in person and I’m never one to pass up the chance to hold a sweet baby.
You can tell I have a real way with babies by how calm and peaceful Harper was in my presence.
Finally, I got on a plane and headed home to where my peeps were waiting on me.
And so was Jillian Michaels.
She’s going to make me pay the butter-filled piper by around 9:00 a.m.
Or maybe 10:00.
There’s no need to rush into anything.