Being unemployed limits my entertainment choices since I don’t have the cash to do things like eat. So, it’s time to experiment with a few things around the house for fun. When I’m done constructing a blanket out of lint and Kotex maxipads, I’ll make some of these.
No, these are blood fudgesicles, they’re made with something better and more life-affirming than blood — RED WINE. You know that thing Jesus turned boring water into that one day when he had nothing better to do.
I love both fudgesicles and red wine, so the person who came up with this combo needs an award.
Here’s the recipe (courtesy of abeautifulmess.typepad.com)
Red Wine Fudgesicles, makes 4-6 popsicles depending on your tray size.
Needed: 1 cup red wine, 1 1/2 cup dark chocolate chips and 1 1/2 cup milk.
In a small pot simmer the wine over low/medium heat for 12-18 minutes, allowing it to reduce. Remove from heat and whisk in the chocolate until completely melted. Stir in the milk. Pour into your popsicle tray and freeze over night. (Note: you can use milk instead of wine for regular fudgesicles.)
As someone who likes to bake, I recommend using the best chocolate and full-fat milk in this recipe. If you’re that paranoid about calories, go eat a carrot and leave the good stuff to those of us who don’t mind nibbling on the bad stuff every once in a while.
Life is short — eat Red Wine Fudgesicles.
I love music. I love iTunes. Love. Big love.
Since I’m not working, I have music on all day long. The tee vee is only turned on when I go to Bikram so the cats have something to watch when I’m not around. Also, it’s on at night so I can catch up on all the news–and to watch some of my guilty pleasures.
Go ahead and judge. I don’t care because you all have your own guilty pleasure demons to deal with everyday. Instead of shaking your head whilst saying, “That sad, sorry McCrabass. What shame her friends and family must feel whenever she talks about the magic that is Richard Marx’s ‘Don’t Mean Nothing.’ ” To that I say, hold that Danielle Steele yarn up high and praise its anorexic, overdone plot. Be proud of your guilty pleasures, dammit! Thanks to iTunes, I am now able to buy allll the guilty pleasure tunes I can get my paws on. Like this one. This gem too. England is the home of some of the most innovative pop music, but it owes us all an explanation for Sniff n’ the Tears. Don’t laugh Canada. You have some ‘splainin‘ to do.
The muses of hip hop have to answer for this tune. I do love it and can’t wait to teach the lyrics to my niece, India. Explaining my musical choice for my sister and brother-in-law’s darling daughter will be worth buying court side seats for.
This song feels like foreplay. Hey, I’m just going by what Mr. Smith says because he’s the oracle of one-note actors and musicians.
(can he really be called a musician though?)
I have Mr. Donny Iris to thank for this evening’s final selection.
Here we go again, McCrabass ain’t learned her lesson yet.