Ballet russe

This gorgeous concoction’s name means Russian Ballet. More on that in a moment.
First I must bore you with my actor life. I will summarize the reading I acted in last night for the WGA Writer’s Access Project finalist scripts with this word: fan-friggin’-tastic. I felt extremely honored to be working with such awesome writers, actors, and directors. And there was a girl acting in another scene who is recurring on The Mindy Project which is a show I so need to be on so I was in awe.
And now, here is what I originally wrote for today’s post:

Us actors will sell you a load of fantasies if you let us.

Particularly about how we look. Why, I wake up with smashing black rock n roll eyeliner. That has only dripped halfway down my face in a badass way.
It did not take a hair dryer and flat iron to create this look. Oh no no, I am a wicked version of Patti Smith effortlessly:

Hollywood especially likes to lie to us about people’s bodies and what they eat. That’s why the Sex in the City ladies can down Cosmos and the calories don’t count.

And Russian ballerinas drink these and then put on those pointe shoes.

I cannot really do pointe anymore. There comes a time in a dancer’s life when she gains just enough sanity to realize that keeping all her toenails might be nice.

But ja, ya, yes I can make a killer drink called the Ballet Russe. Perhaps drink it with this Russian Mushroom-Egg dish?!

Make it, drink it. It will make you lovely and graceful…in your head. Sometimes that is all you need anyway.

Ballet Russe (From The Ultimate Bar Book by Mittie Hellmich
1 oz. vodka
3/4 oz. creme de framboise
1 1/2 oz. fresh lime juice
1/2 oz. fresh lemon juice
1 oz. simple syrup (or if you live in reality and would like to pretend this is lo-cal 2 Tbsp. Splenda dissolved in 2 Tbsp. H2O.
Shake over ice, strain and sip. You go, twinkle toes.

Fritoque

First, some acting stuff. I need to play Patti Smith when “Just Kids” becomes a movie. She said she was thinking of Kristen Stewart but wanted a lesser known person.
That is me.
Please, world, if anyone has access to her, her agent, anyone who has anything to do with the movie this is my personal plea to at least get an audition.

Thanks for bearing with me. Here be the food:

I made Fritoqe.
Because it is fun to say anything that sounds like Frito. It is also fun to eat Fritos. In fact, next time I make this that is what l’ll use.
Dagnabbit. It is 9:30, and I am too tired to go get Fritos.

In case anyone is surmising, the Frito-lay enterprise is not my sugar-daddy.

Although, come to think of it, it would not be a big surprise to find me in bed with Fritos.

Anyway, I liked both the title and simplicity of this recipe, so I gave it a go. Then I added some spices because it was a wee bit too simple the first time around. And as I said, next time it is Fritos instead of regular, workaday corn chips.

Yessiree bob.

Frito-lay, if you are out there and would like to be my sugar-daddy, I will seriously consider.

Fritoque barely changed and reduced from the Tex-Mex Cookbook by Robb Walsh
1/2 c. Black beans, some slightly mushed
5-ish corn chips, crumbled
One slice of reduced fat cheddar
Pickled jalapeño slices
2 Tbsp. salsa
Cumin to your liking
Salt n pepa
Mix the beans, chips, and jalapeños, salsa and cumin, and put in a small oven safe bowl. Put cheese on top. Put in a 350 degree oven until sufficiently melty.
Chow. Add salt and pepper. Freshly grind that shiz-nit please. It makes a difference.