<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468626614582208647</id><updated>2012-02-16T01:03:35.611-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vixen's Fixins</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468626614582208647/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kitchen Vixen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15135074352503420765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0bnvqFHFI38/Tfo0uW3mlNI/AAAAAAAAABs/7_IG6HjQ0Yg/s220/minime2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4468626614582208647.post-408329624995678647</id><published>2011-07-12T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T13:38:45.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>....because food is sexy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="orth"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;kitchen&lt;/u&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;&lt;span class="main-fl"&gt;&lt;em xmlns:mwref="http://www.m-w.com/mwref"&gt;noun&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pr" xmlns:mwref="http://www.m-w.com/mwref"&gt;\&lt;span class="unicode"&gt;ˈ&lt;/span&gt;ki-chən\&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="orth"&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;&lt;span id="hotword"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;A&amp;nbsp;&lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"&gt;room&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"&gt;or&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="cursor: default;"&gt;place&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword"&gt;equipped&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword"&gt;for&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: transparent; cursor: default;"&gt;cooking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="orth"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: medium;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;vixen&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;span class="main-fl"&gt;&lt;em xmlns:mwref="http://www.m-w.com/mwref"&gt;noun&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pr" xmlns:mwref="http://www.m-w.com/mwref"&gt;\&lt;span class="unicode"&gt;ˈ&lt;/span&gt;vik-sən\&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="pron" style="color: #660000;"&gt;A female fox; an attractive woman, especially one espousing cleverness (like a fox); an overtly sexual lass; a femme fatale; a powerful broad. (As defined by Urban Dictionary)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;Place the second&amp;nbsp;word into the first one and you have, well,&amp;nbsp;me.....sort of. &lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;I'm not a fox, I'm a human (at least on my good days); an attractive woman (subjective); an overtly sexual lass (um,&amp;nbsp;mostly &lt;em&gt;covertly&lt;/em&gt;); a femme fatale (I haven't killed anyone...yet); a powerful broad (yep, I'll take that one, thanks to my mom and grandmother- the two most powerful broads I've ever known!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;See, I believe that food is sexy. Just as a memorable romantic encounter appeals to all of your senses, so does a memorable culinary experience:&amp;nbsp;seeing a&amp;nbsp;creatively plated meal&amp;nbsp;in front of you that's so beautiful you&amp;nbsp;hate to disrupt the work of art; hearing the sizzle of a delicious cut of steak as it's being masterfully grilled to perfection; inhaling the aroma of a young Cabernet Sauvignon and being convinced that the sharp, sweet smell of the black currant is the liquid equivalent of passion;&amp;nbsp;feeling the texture of a spice through your pestle when you're grinding spices&amp;nbsp;by hand, or simply breaking up the leaves of dried herbs with your fingers or palms;&amp;nbsp;tasting ecstasy as a velvety bite of cheesecake&amp;nbsp;dances in your mouth, then feeling overwhelming&amp;nbsp;sadness that the slice will eventually be gone.&amp;nbsp;A great meal can be just as (if not more)enjoyable as great...well, you know where I'm going with this, right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;There have been occasions when I was&amp;nbsp;perusing titles in a bookstore and came across&amp;nbsp;the cover of a cookbook or magazine that has stopped me in my tracks.&amp;nbsp;My audible "oohs," "aahs," and "mmms" have been completely misinterpreted from an aisle or two over and have&amp;nbsp;elicited&amp;nbsp;interesting reactions&amp;nbsp;more than once.&amp;nbsp;From a wide-eyed pubescent teen peeking around a magazine shelf, obviously expecting (hoping) to see a live reenactment of the Kama Sutra, to&amp;nbsp;a&amp;nbsp;baritone voiced friend that I was talking to on my cell phone,&amp;nbsp;who screeched, "What&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;are&lt;/em&gt; you &lt;em&gt;doing?"&amp;nbsp; &lt;/em&gt;While&amp;nbsp;tasting something fabulous in a crowded restaurant, and realizing that my low, guttural moans (with my eyes closed and head back) have been met with raised eyebrows from other&amp;nbsp;patrons mid-chew, I've come to realize that not everyone gets as turned on by food as I do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;I also feel that cooking shouldn't be intimidating. When you enter a cooking space, take charge! Grab your recipe by the horns and show it who's boss. Don't let the process get the best of you. Like any other activity that one wants to excel in, cooking should begin with an interest, a desire to advance, and&amp;nbsp;a determination to do so. That being said, when you've completed a&amp;nbsp;culinary&amp;nbsp;masterpiece, you don't have to emerge from the kitchen appearing shell shocked. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;Perfect example: A few Thanksgivings back, I had an ambitious menu, a substantial guest list (that kept expanding), and a very tight time schedule. I love to entertain; the more the merrier! So when an invited guest called at 3:30 asking if she could bring&amp;nbsp;six (extra) people with her to 5:00 cocktails and subsequently dinner, I cheerfully exclaimed, "Silly woman, of course you can! Did you even need to ask?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;Six EXTRA guests?!? That's some people's entire guest list! I figured it would be no big deal though - a few&amp;nbsp;extra place settings and a couple more side dishes to pad the menu, and in 90 minutes all 22 of us would be enjoying each other's company and giving thanks for various blessings. Uh-huh, sure we would....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;At 5:05, the doorbell rang. I exited the kitchen with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, walked&amp;nbsp;into the dining room, eyeballing every detail of the table, through the living room, and on to the front door. I did one last turn to make sure all was well. My home, the food, the atmosphere, were perfect; the result of days of preparation. It was as if I was expecting a photographer from Martha Stewart Living to be with the first group of guests. And the photo spread would have been amazing...as long as I was not included in any of the shots. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;In an effort to host a wonderful evening (and accommodate the six unexpected guests) I had simply run out of time to make myself presentable.&amp;nbsp; I answered the door in sweat pants and a t-shirt (that didn't match each other), flip-flops, no makeup, and my hair in a flyaway ponytail. I had the obligatory splashes of all-purpose flour on my nose, cheek, and thigh. I was sweating, and frowning, and couldn't even muster up a "Welcome!" I just stood back and motioned for them to come in. No one said anything but the looks on their faces were&amp;nbsp;priceless! There was a collective expression of WTF among all. After I poured a few cocktails, I managed to sneak away long enough to grab a quick shower, throw on jeans and a sweater, and smooth out my ponytail. Still had on flip-flops and no make-up, but I did learn some valuable lessons that day: 1. I learned to say "no" to certain things, 2. that you shouldn't over-exert yourself to the point of not being able to enjoy the evening, and 3. that as part of the "presentation" myself, there should always be time allocated for the host to make her/himself presentable!&amp;nbsp; I'm a little more conscious about the way I&amp;nbsp;present myself now, in the event something like that happens again. No, I'm not prepping the food in stilettos and pasties, but my appearance that day made me so uncomfortable I wasn't even behaving like myself; I felt like a shrinking violet in my own home, among friends and loved ones. Ridiculous! I should have just owned it! Laughed it off and enjoyed myself and my company.&amp;nbsp; Sexy isn't what you wear, it's how you wear it. I was competent in my kitchen and in my hostessing and that was appealing on it's own. Do I feel the need to be found sexy by others? Not at all, but the&amp;nbsp;sense of pride&amp;nbsp;that comes along with knowing that you're doing you, to the best of your ability, is very empowering...and sexy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="pron" style="color: #660000;"&gt;I read an article that described a "Video Vixen" as a sexy, confident woman who can tantalize the male, and female demographic using her body, mind, and soul. A vixen is that woman who can walk into a room unannounced, command the room, and control her environment by creating interest with her overwhelming presence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;I figured I would use my kitchen instead of my body, and create interest with the overwhelming presence of my food!&amp;nbsp; Enter Kitchen Vixen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #660000;"&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4468626614582208647-408329624995678647?l=seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com/feeds/408329624995678647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com/2011/07/because-food-is-sexy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468626614582208647/posts/default/408329624995678647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4468626614582208647/posts/default/408329624995678647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://seewhatthevixensfixin.blogspot.com/2011/07/because-food-is-sexy.html' title='....because food is sexy!'/><author><name>Kitchen Vixen</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15135074352503420765</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0bnvqFHFI38/Tfo0uW3mlNI/AAAAAAAAABs/7_IG6HjQ0Yg/s220/minime2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
