Totally Not My Recipe Wednesday – Baked Chicken Chimi’s

Mmm…this is a yummy one. My hubby is a chimichanga connoisseur. He orders them at every Mexican restaurant we visit. I yell at him that he really shouldn’t be eating that deep-fried burrito and then proceed to dig into my totally healthy veggie quesadilla. What? Okay. So it’s got some cheese on it. Okay. A pound of cheese. Whatever. It’s not deep-fried cheese. I only order those at Applebee’s. Anyway.

I hope you try and enjoy the following recipe. It’s totally adaptable to your own tastes and I highly suggest you play around with it. I certainly changed up the original and we loved the end result!

Baked Chicken Chimi’s

Recipe adapted from here


  • 2 cups cooked chicken, chopped or shredded**
  • 1/2 cup finely chopped onion**
  • 1 tsp minced garlic (or more if you’re into it!)
  • 1 cup frozen white corn
  • 1/2 cup salsa verde
  • 1/2 cup mild salsa
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano leaves, crushed
  • 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
  • 8(soft-taco sized) flour tortillas
  • 2 tablespoons butter, melted
  • diced tomato, sour cream, guacamole, salsa, and shredded cheddar cheese for topping


  1. Preheat oven to 400°F.
  2. Sautee onions until translucent. **(Tip: I boil my chicken to precook for this recipe. Add chicken AND onions to pot of cold water, bring to boil and cook until chicken is no longer pink. Strain out water and shred chicken right in the pot!)
  3. Mix chicken, garlic, corn,salsas, cumin, oregano, cheese and onions. Place about 1/3 cup of the chicken mixture in the center of each tortilla.
  4. Fold opposite sides over filling. Roll up from bottom and place seam-side down on a baking sheet.
  5. Brush with melted butter. Bake at 400°F for 25 minutes or until golden brown and crispy.
  6. Garnish with desired toppings and serve with salsa on the side.

Don’t skip the butter step! They crisp up your non-deep fried chimichanga! It’s like health food this way. Trust me.



Totally Not My Recipe Wednesday – Chicken Spaghetti

In honor of today. In honor of real cooks out there. In honor of the fact that I like to eat. I present to you… Totally Not My Recipe Wednesday.

Let me be real honest with you. I do cook sometimes. I even use pot holders and tongs and stuff. Like real kitchen things.

I even, occasionally, will come up with a recipe all on my own.

Not often.

But Iam not in any way, shape or form above finding a good recipe using the web-er-net and adapting it to fit my family (i.e. no mushrooms. Ever. Ever.) And when I find one that really went over well, I thought I could share it with you all. And then you could adapt it to fit your family (i.e. add mushrooms, blech…I mean, why would you?)

So for this my first TNMRW…wow, totally rolls off the tongue… I will leave you with it.

Chicken Spaghetti

adapted from original recipe found here at

1 (12 ounce) package angel hair pasta
1 (10 ounce) can diced tomatoes with
green chile peppers
1 (10.75 ounce) can condensed cream
of chicken soup
1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
2 cups chopped cooked chicken breast
1/2 chopped onion, sauteed
1 tsp minced garlic
salt and pepper to taste

1. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook for 8 to 10 minutes or until al dente; drain and return to pot.

2. Saute onions and garlic over low-medium heat until transluscent.

3. To the pasta add the diced tomatoes with green chile peppers, cream of chicken soup, cheese, chopped chicken, onion mixture,salt and pepper. Cook and stir over low heat until cheese is melted and mixture is heated through.


This dish is delish, as-is. You could also throw it in a casserole dish, top with some crushed butter crackers and bake at 350 degrees until bubbling and the topping is crispy. This is no award winner, folks. But it is a good ol’ chicken spaghetti that will stick to your ribs and appeal to the kiddos.

Hope you enjoy this week’s installment of TNMRW!



The Blessed Weekend

And it’s Monday.

I can’t believe how quickly the weekend goes. I remember backwhen I was a working girl (not THAT kind of working girl…gaw…although I totally would have been a Julia Roberts-typeand not her annoying co-prostitute/roommate, Kit). It seemed the week would creep along at a punishingly slow pace. I would gaze at the calendar whiledreaming of Friday and all the freedom it would bring.

I no longer work outside the home, but do plenty of friggin’ work inside the home, and still look forward to that weekend. Let me lay out for you why a weekend is still just as important to us what I like to call, employment-challenged,folks:

1) Naps – Weekday naps tend to be a little encumbered. When I settle in for a snooze on, say, a Tuesday afternoon I am really quick to justify that little gem if I’m caught. “Oh, geez…did I fall asleep? Wow. I must be really exhausted from waking up so early to start that closet cleanout project.” Naptime on a weekend usually goes a little something more like, “EVERYBODY SHUT UP! I’m taking a nap!”

2) Breakfast Prep – Breakfast time withmy elementary school aged kids tends to be a little hectic. I’m trying to provide some brain food, make sure various school notes are signed, give the ol’ ix-nay to two out of three of my daughter’s outfit suggestions and remind my six year-old that he is actually still enrolled in Kindergarten and will need to be attending again that day. And, yes, I understand he just went last week but the State actually requires that he continue to go every week. Breakfast time on a weekend usually goes a little something more like, “We’re out of milk? Uh, no worries. Lucky Charms tastes just as good with water, trust me.”

3) Bedtime – Ah, bedtime. Parents have been battling kids to get to bed since the beginning of time. I can just imagine Mrs. Caveman yelling at Mr. Caveman, “Ugh. Kids need go bed. You. Help.” And then Mr. Caveman’s all, “Kids! Go Bed!” And then Mrs. Caveman’s all, “Ugh. You no help. Why I evenask?”Bedtime on a weekend is more like, “Man, it’s getting late. Um, have you seen the kids?” Or in Caveman, “Ugh. Dark. Kids?”

There is just something so liberating about the weekend and that remains to be the same with or without a paying job. I no longer spend my day in a cubicle answering phones and praying for my lunch hour but I still gaze longingly at my calendar excited for Friday (okay, fine. Istill look forward to lunch).

Happy Monday folks! It’s only Four days to Friday! :-P



Humiliation at the Dryer Door

On Wednesday I blogged about my 10 year-old blossoming pride and joy, Avery. In case you missed it, you can read up here. Basically, the gist of the story is that she’s growing up. Rapidly. Gone are the teeny tiny buns, andin their place slightly bigger tiny buns. She’s a burgeoning young lady in a fraction of the body and it makes me a little sick each and every day.

Sharing a home with a fellow female I knew there would be eventual complications such as my favorite lip gloss being jacked from my purse, clouds of my coveted Vera Wang Princess wafting from her room. But I was in no way prepared for what happened yesterday morning.

And now Ifeel compelled to divulge itto you folks. Gah, this is humiliating.

Okay. Let me set the scene.

I get out of the shower and run gracefully (obvi) to my underwear drawer where I am shocked to discover I am lacking a pair to throw on. I mean, I’m neeeever out of clean laundry. Nope. Wouldn’t happen on my watch. No sir-ree. Just ask my hubby. No, wait. Don’t. He gets a little chafed when he’sreminded about the times he has to wear swim trunks as underpants.

Which leads me back to my story.

I’m searching for underwear, unsuccessfully, and remember that there’s a clean load of clothes in the dryer. I hotfoot it out to the laundry room, throw open the dryer door and briskly search for some undies. Finding some I step in one leg hole and attempt to slip my foot in the other when I stop and stare dumbfounded at my feet…and the underpants stretched across my ankles like a rubberband ready to snap.

What the $@#&????

I’m guessing you’re picking up on what happened a whole lot faster than I did. I mean, I just stared. Stared at the debacle formingat my feet.

My daughter’s underpants.


Folks, she’s 10 years old. Which means she has tiny underpants with smiling puppies. And peace signs. And Justice logos.

And I just stood there trying to figure out why my underpants were rebelling against me.Why they wouldn’t slip up like the good people at Hanes had designed them to do. Those tiny little underpants.

Oy vey.

So not only am I delusional and incapable of visually recognizing my own pair of underpants I’mlacking the mental capacity to reason out why a 10 year-olds underpants won’t fit.


Oy vey.

It was an ugly scene. One I’m likely not toforget for some time. I just keep thinking of how frightened those poor little underpants probably were.

Pray for me.



Freezing my Petals Off!

I remember growing up as a teeny little Mindy looking soforward to winter.Our cozy home hada lovely wood-burning stove, plenty of hot chocolate and layers of snow clothes stacked up and ready for layering. Fast forward a couple of decades? Our heat pump dries out my hair, hot chocolate has too many calories and layers of snow clothes? Um, I don’t think so.

All ofa sudden Ifreaking HATE winter weather. Mother Nature is certainly playing around with us this season isn’t she? This poor country has gone from one extreme to another week after week and it seems she is just not letting up.

Now I’ve never been one of those types of ladies who complained of frequent shivering. You know the ones…you’re outside at a beautiful neighborhood barbecue, it’s 75 degrees and you’re perspiring in places no decent person should even know about. Skinny Minnie next to you starts rubbing her bony hands up and down her gym-toned arms while complaining, “Man…I just can not get warm!” You conspiratorially nod while sending a silent prayer to God that you haven’t sweat through your capri pants because you really want to get up for another round of cheese taquitos.

Anyway, the point I am attempting to make is that I do not typically suffer from being overly cold. In fact, quite the opposite most of the time. But the last couple of weeks have proven otherwise. I have been rubbing my own bony hands up and down my own gym-toned arms. (Hey…it’s my story and I’d prefer for my arms to be toned in it, ‘k?. Wait. Let’s also say that my legs are toned. Swimsuit season is just around the corner.)

I certainly hope that allofyou around the country being inundated withsevere winter weather conditions are staying safe with plenty of warm food and clothing. You can rest assured that I am sending all kinds of positive vibes to Mother Nature asking her to let up a little and allow some rest for the weather weary!