Live from Chez Kink it's the Party of the Year!
Twelve Two Two Fondue Nine is live! Follow the action as we prepare for tonight's annual event then watch the party unfold all evening.
Grab yourself some cheese, a nice fermented beverage and join in!
Party on, Garth!
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Friday, December 21, 2012
Twelve Two Two Fondue Nine
It's hard to believe that on December 22, 2012 we will host the Ninth Twelve Two Two Fondue!
We expect over 100 people, to go through over 10 lbs of cheese and 15 baguettes of French bread, a case of champagne, four cases of beer, two cases of red and white wine and countless chips, crackers, olives, veggies and assorted goodies.
A good time to be had by all.
The first Fondue party was attended by just the family and consumed two bottles of champagne and a single pound of cheese. How times have changed!
Tomorrow a link will be posted to the live video feed from Chez Kink broadcasting the preparations and the celebration as it unfolds.
Check this site tomorrow for details!
Until then ...
We expect over 100 people, to go through over 10 lbs of cheese and 15 baguettes of French bread, a case of champagne, four cases of beer, two cases of red and white wine and countless chips, crackers, olives, veggies and assorted goodies.
A good time to be had by all.
The first Fondue party was attended by just the family and consumed two bottles of champagne and a single pound of cheese. How times have changed!
Tomorrow a link will be posted to the live video feed from Chez Kink broadcasting the preparations and the celebration as it unfolds.
Check this site tomorrow for details!
Until then ...
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Nothing Else Matters
Metallica.
The original was great but this is, well, in a class by it's own.
Nothing Else Matters
And, nothing else matters.
Couldn't be much more from the heart, forever trust in who we are.
Never opened myself this way.
And, nothing else matters.
The original was great but this is, well, in a class by it's own.
Nothing Else Matters
And, nothing else matters.
Couldn't be much more from the heart, forever trust in who we are.
Never opened myself this way.
And, nothing else matters.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
Too Close
That was a good one! Whooooosh! A bright flash in the sky, slightly green, arcing over the house hight above and making no actual "whooooosh" sound but accompanied by "Ahhhhhh!" and "Ohhhhhh!" and "Did you see that?"
It's the Night of the Geminids, the annual meteor shower that is either a boom or a bust but always cold. It's a toss up whether to stay outside lying by the pool in the December air for a few more minutes or go inside and play MechWarrior on the big screen.
Either way you'll hear, Ohhhhh, Ahhhh and Did you see that?
Being the sensitive one I think about the poor old Geminid particles that have been orbiting the solar system for who knows how long. OK, Carl Sagan and Stephen Hawking know how long but I don't. Quite a while.
Then the particle feels a tug, very slight, just a little pull, not much of an effect but enough to pull one out of orbit. Then the pull becomes a definite tug and finally a grasp as it falls deeper and deeper into that gravitational well.
And then down and down it goes, spiraling in, falling into infinity, helpless, until it either loops around for an other pass or burns up in the heat of its own passion, so to speak. Lost in its own falling.
The particle might be thinking, "Oh, that was surprising" while we knew all along it was going to end with Ohhhhhh's, Ahhhhhh's and "Did you see that?"
It's the Night of the Geminids, the annual meteor shower that is either a boom or a bust but always cold. It's a toss up whether to stay outside lying by the pool in the December air for a few more minutes or go inside and play MechWarrior on the big screen.
Either way you'll hear, Ohhhhh, Ahhhh and Did you see that?
Being the sensitive one I think about the poor old Geminid particles that have been orbiting the solar system for who knows how long. OK, Carl Sagan and Stephen Hawking know how long but I don't. Quite a while.
Then the particle feels a tug, very slight, just a little pull, not much of an effect but enough to pull one out of orbit. Then the pull becomes a definite tug and finally a grasp as it falls deeper and deeper into that gravitational well.
And then down and down it goes, spiraling in, falling into infinity, helpless, until it either loops around for an other pass or burns up in the heat of its own passion, so to speak. Lost in its own falling.
The particle might be thinking, "Oh, that was surprising" while we knew all along it was going to end with Ohhhhhh's, Ahhhhhh's and "Did you see that?"
Saturday, December 08, 2012
Time Passes Quickly, Chances Are Few
Recently I lost a friend. It happens. One minute they're there and the next -- gone. Looking back it was a predictable outcome but, still, overwhelming the finality of it all.
You think you have all the time in the world. Hey, dude, I'll see you next year or two or three or four or a decade. The sands of time slip through that hourglass relentlessly, grain by grain, moment by moment, experience by experience, chance by chance.
And ...
... then it's gone. They're gone. Forever.
No warning, no explanation, no sympathy card. No nothing. Just gone.
Time does pass quickly. Exactly three thousand six hundred seconds per hour: 3600 sec / hour. That's it. That's for all of us! We all pass time at the same rate so it seems a shame that we waste so much of it fiddling around when we should be making those chances happen.
Time passes quickly, chances are few.
We all have so many ticks of the clock. It's measurable, in the end, but not when we're actually on the clock which is either a blessing or a curse! Imagine knowing the second of your doom. How would you change your life or not knowing that? Maybe a lot, maybe not at all.
And it's not just you, it's the other person to consider, too. Perhaps they could have communicated more than a once-a-year Christmas letter. Perhaps they could have called or send an email or something.
Well, it's all water under the Bridge of Life, isn't it? Gone forever. Downstream. Done and done.
And, you know, it doesn't serve anybody anything to lament over what could have been, but what are you going to do today to lessen the sadness of that lament for the next person.
You think you have all the time in the world. Hey, dude, I'll see you next year or two or three or four or a decade. The sands of time slip through that hourglass relentlessly, grain by grain, moment by moment, experience by experience, chance by chance.
And ...
... then it's gone. They're gone. Forever.
No warning, no explanation, no sympathy card. No nothing. Just gone.
Time does pass quickly. Exactly three thousand six hundred seconds per hour: 3600 sec / hour. That's it. That's for all of us! We all pass time at the same rate so it seems a shame that we waste so much of it fiddling around when we should be making those chances happen.
Time passes quickly, chances are few.
We all have so many ticks of the clock. It's measurable, in the end, but not when we're actually on the clock which is either a blessing or a curse! Imagine knowing the second of your doom. How would you change your life or not knowing that? Maybe a lot, maybe not at all.
And it's not just you, it's the other person to consider, too. Perhaps they could have communicated more than a once-a-year Christmas letter. Perhaps they could have called or send an email or something.
Well, it's all water under the Bridge of Life, isn't it? Gone forever. Downstream. Done and done.
And, you know, it doesn't serve anybody anything to lament over what could have been, but what are you going to do today to lessen the sadness of that lament for the next person.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Seven
This is my Seventh, count 'em, 7, NaBloPoMo's.
Seven straight years of blogging every day in the month of November. Every day something needs to be posted no matter how lame. Of course, I take challenges seriously and if I commit to a project I'm going to see it through.
It is nearly impossible to spend the entire month of November roosting on one's writer's perch, bathed in WiFi with the Muse manically tossing out ideas. Usually November is fraught with interruptions, not the least of which is Thanksgiving and some plumbing crisis, not that the two are related with the exception of The Great Turducken Debacle.
Most years, though, the fickle Muse flits around dive-bombing great ideas every few days but mostly sitting in some muse bar drinking herself stupid. Stupid muse. On a couple of occasions I had to open the Secret Box of Ideas and pull out a card. I hate doing that because the cards are so expensive. Alas, NaBloPoMo has a huge budget and I'm sure I'll be reimbursed - clicking heels together three times. There's no place like Chase! There's no place like Chase!
Tomorrow is December 1st. The start of a new month and the end of an old year that doesn't seem all that old. I remember in January making the comment as I put away the Christmas tree stand, "I'm putting it on the shelf now, but in a moment I'll be dragging it down again. Seems to happen faster and faster."
And so it goes. (Thank you, Kurt!)
Tomorrow is my official start of the holiday season, my favorite time of the year whether it's in snow or damp humidity and I'll put up with the decorating, rather than put up the decorations (not my job) and dive into the spirit of the holidays only to be confronted with putting up the Christmas tree stand all too soon.
Time for an egg nog and a toast to NaBloPoMo 2012. Thank you, BlogHer, for hosting our November blogging extravaganza and here's to a successful 2012 and on to the next year.
Cheers!
Seven straight years of blogging every day in the month of November. Every day something needs to be posted no matter how lame. Of course, I take challenges seriously and if I commit to a project I'm going to see it through.
It is nearly impossible to spend the entire month of November roosting on one's writer's perch, bathed in WiFi with the Muse manically tossing out ideas. Usually November is fraught with interruptions, not the least of which is Thanksgiving and some plumbing crisis, not that the two are related with the exception of The Great Turducken Debacle.
Most years, though, the fickle Muse flits around dive-bombing great ideas every few days but mostly sitting in some muse bar drinking herself stupid. Stupid muse. On a couple of occasions I had to open the Secret Box of Ideas and pull out a card. I hate doing that because the cards are so expensive. Alas, NaBloPoMo has a huge budget and I'm sure I'll be reimbursed - clicking heels together three times. There's no place like Chase! There's no place like Chase!
Tomorrow is December 1st. The start of a new month and the end of an old year that doesn't seem all that old. I remember in January making the comment as I put away the Christmas tree stand, "I'm putting it on the shelf now, but in a moment I'll be dragging it down again. Seems to happen faster and faster."
And so it goes. (Thank you, Kurt!)
Tomorrow is my official start of the holiday season, my favorite time of the year whether it's in snow or damp humidity and I'll put up with the decorating, rather than put up the decorations (not my job) and dive into the spirit of the holidays only to be confronted with putting up the Christmas tree stand all too soon.
Time for an egg nog and a toast to NaBloPoMo 2012. Thank you, BlogHer, for hosting our November blogging extravaganza and here's to a successful 2012 and on to the next year.
Cheers!
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Beaujolais Nouveau
Finally!
It's nearly the end of November. The Paté has been made and mostly eaten. And by normal standards the wine should be on the decline, past it's peak, on the downhill, not so good, rubbish, mouthwash, disposal cleaner -
But, it's quite good! Light, crisp, with a hint of lightness and crispness. Fruity and nutty with a hint of fruits and nuts. Clear with a sort of transparency. Red in a sort of rouge sort of way. Wet but not damp. Sloshy.
I'll need another glass or 9 to make sure.
It's nearly the end of November. The Paté has been made and mostly eaten. And by normal standards the wine should be on the decline, past it's peak, on the downhill, not so good, rubbish, mouthwash, disposal cleaner -
But, it's quite good! Light, crisp, with a hint of lightness and crispness. Fruity and nutty with a hint of fruits and nuts. Clear with a sort of transparency. Red in a sort of rouge sort of way. Wet but not damp. Sloshy.
I'll need another glass or 9 to make sure.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Avocado Phoenix
Avogadro the Avocado was planted in the Spring of 2000 if memory serves. Starting out in a glass of water propped up with toothpicks, then transferred to a small pot and finally to the back yard, what started out as an afternoon guacamole snack grew into a robust tree over the decade.
Avogadro grew steadily each year weathering two hurricanes, Rita and Ike, and other fluctuations in the weather. I remember seeing the tree blown over to about a 30 degree angle from vertical during the incoming of Ike and braved the wind and rain to lash it down.
Yep, Avogadro survived a lot of hardship.
But not freezing. Two years of hard frosts well below freezing took its toll on Avogadro and in the Spring of 2009 it looked like this -
Avogadro grew steadily each year weathering two hurricanes, Rita and Ike, and other fluctuations in the weather. I remember seeing the tree blown over to about a 30 degree angle from vertical during the incoming of Ike and braved the wind and rain to lash it down.
Yep, Avogadro survived a lot of hardship.
But not freezing. Two years of hard frosts well below freezing took its toll on Avogadro and in the Spring of 2009 it looked like this -
Avogadro had developed a good sized trunk and root system which held it up during hurricanes but the freezing weather wiped it out. All of the leaves died and the branches never recovered. By summer I resolved to cut it down and dig it up.
Cutting down Avogadro proved to be a task of a few minutes but digging it up was another matter because of the extensive root system. I decided to let it sit for a year and try again later.
But, then, in 2010 something remarkable happened. Avogadro came back from the roots.
The leaves looked healthy and green. The root system was obviously robust, so I let it go to see what it could do, and do it did! Within a year the small shoots had grown up 5-6 feet and produced many leaves. Today Avogadro is over 12-feet tall.
Here's to you, Avogadro the Avocado, indomitable tree you are and may you have a mild winter!
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Auto This
Everybody has an autocorrect story.
You know autocorrect. It's that helpful feature when text messaging that tries to figure out what you're trying to type as you navigate at 75 miles per hour in heavy traffic dodging objects on the road and other drivers. Hit the space bar and autocorrect helpfully inserts the word it prefers into your message.
Recently, my conversation went like this when trying to type "Glad you made it safe."
Finally, in exasperation I typed "ayayayayaya" and the word suggested was "autocorrect."
At least I didn't have a wreck on the freeway doing all this and got home sale and sound.
You know autocorrect. It's that helpful feature when text messaging that tries to figure out what you're trying to type as you navigate at 75 miles per hour in heavy traffic dodging objects on the road and other drivers. Hit the space bar and autocorrect helpfully inserts the word it prefers into your message.
Recently, my conversation went like this when trying to type "Glad you made it safe."
Glad you made the sale.
What sale?
Safe!
Safes are on sale? Did you buy one?
No, not sale safe!
So, there was no sale on safes. Did u buy one anyway?
No, no! No sale. No safe!
What safe.
Glad you made the sale.
What sale?
Damdamdamdam not against.
You're against sales? Make no sense.
Forget it.
Good. We probably don't need a safe, anyway.
Finally, in exasperation I typed "ayayayayaya" and the word suggested was "autocorrect."
At least I didn't have a wreck on the freeway doing all this and got home sale and sound.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Airport Ride
Drove up to the airport today and that's always fun, especially in the misnamed "rush" hour which is anything but rushing. But, it was worth the drive especially if you're trying to fly somewhere, although curbside pickup by the airplane would be pretty cool. Just think how wide the streets would have to be!
Anyway.
It was a busy time at the airport with flights stacked up at 90-second intervals as far out as you could see and other flights taking off at (nearly) the same time. Huge planes glided over seeming to hover in the air as they banked over the city heading to Who Knows Where. There was even a monster jet crossing the road with passengers waving at us as we drove under.
Reminded me how I once wanted to be a NASCAR driver. That was a short-lived fantasy! Next to that, though, would be Airport Bus Driver. Now, that's got to be a fun job! Driving a big ole rattling bus at breakneck speeds along narrow airport roads, cutting off other drivers and buses, parking where you shouldn't park, stopping for no reason, driving by passengers for no reason and the best part - getting paid!
I would want one of the outrageously painted buses like the yellow one with black spots and I'd hang fuzzy dice from the little used rearview mirror. I'd put a tip jar on the dashboard seeded with a few 20's just to give my passengers an idea of my expectations, and I'd always start my run by shouting, "Y'all hang on! I don't want to lose any of y'all out the windows like last week!"
Yeah, well, another fantasy. But, it's not really the exciting driving that really gets my blood going about being an Airport Bus Driver. Nope, it's the cool driver's seat! Have you seen that thing? It's like a giant cushion on hydraulics that is totally bump proof. You can hit a speed bump at 90 miles an hour and that seat will just ride you through it.
So, what's I'm designing is an Airport Bus Driver simulator. Right in my garage. I think I can take the passenger seat out of the Lexus (nobody rides there, anyway) and mount it on four paint shakers. Strap myself in, throw the switch and I'm on my way to Terminal E!
Y'all hang on, ya hear?
Anyway.
It was a busy time at the airport with flights stacked up at 90-second intervals as far out as you could see and other flights taking off at (nearly) the same time. Huge planes glided over seeming to hover in the air as they banked over the city heading to Who Knows Where. There was even a monster jet crossing the road with passengers waving at us as we drove under.
Reminded me how I once wanted to be a NASCAR driver. That was a short-lived fantasy! Next to that, though, would be Airport Bus Driver. Now, that's got to be a fun job! Driving a big ole rattling bus at breakneck speeds along narrow airport roads, cutting off other drivers and buses, parking where you shouldn't park, stopping for no reason, driving by passengers for no reason and the best part - getting paid!
I would want one of the outrageously painted buses like the yellow one with black spots and I'd hang fuzzy dice from the little used rearview mirror. I'd put a tip jar on the dashboard seeded with a few 20's just to give my passengers an idea of my expectations, and I'd always start my run by shouting, "Y'all hang on! I don't want to lose any of y'all out the windows like last week!"
Yeah, well, another fantasy. But, it's not really the exciting driving that really gets my blood going about being an Airport Bus Driver. Nope, it's the cool driver's seat! Have you seen that thing? It's like a giant cushion on hydraulics that is totally bump proof. You can hit a speed bump at 90 miles an hour and that seat will just ride you through it.
So, what's I'm designing is an Airport Bus Driver simulator. Right in my garage. I think I can take the passenger seat out of the Lexus (nobody rides there, anyway) and mount it on four paint shakers. Strap myself in, throw the switch and I'm on my way to Terminal E!
Y'all hang on, ya hear?
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Gumbo Sunday
Kink is on my lap preventing me from typing very good. Thank
s
Kn
ink
yu hlpvvul
get ur own blg
www.kinkthecat.com
k
bai
smell gumbo
need kat hair init?
ug tail in fase cant seee
knnk
s
Kn
ink
yu hlpvvul
get ur own blg
www.kinkthecat.com
k
bai
smell gumbo
need kat hair init?
ug tail in fase cant seee
knnk
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Recycled
Andouille sausage update.
Smoking went well. Cooling and air dry went well. One link disappeared as well. A thief in the night stole a solitary link (about a foot long) with some crackers and a beer. The thief reported that the Andouille sausage was superb. Thanks, thief.
Recycle update.
Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: whump, whump (paper)
Other Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: clackle, clackle (plastic)
Other Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: bang, clang (cans)
Our recycle container going into the truck: CRASH, TINKLE, SMASH, BINKLE (pause) CRASH CRASH, SHATTER TINKLE CLATTER SMASH, CRASH BANG
(bottles. lots and lots and lots of bottles.)
Just doing my part for the environment.
Smoking went well. Cooling and air dry went well. One link disappeared as well. A thief in the night stole a solitary link (about a foot long) with some crackers and a beer. The thief reported that the Andouille sausage was superb. Thanks, thief.
Recycle update.
Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: whump, whump (paper)
Other Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: clackle, clackle (plastic)
Other Neighbor's recycle container going into the truck: bang, clang (cans)
Our recycle container going into the truck: CRASH, TINKLE, SMASH, BINKLE (pause) CRASH CRASH, SHATTER TINKLE CLATTER SMASH, CRASH BANG
(bottles. lots and lots and lots of bottles.)
Just doing my part for the environment.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Leftovers
The best thing about Thanksgiving is the leftover meal!
That was noon today and dinner, too. We polished off the turkey stuffing, yams, potatoes, stuffing, some of the turkey, shrimp soup and white bean casserole.
Of course we had PIE !!
This leftover blast from the past is a good way to get your weekend started.
Make two.
That was noon today and dinner, too. We polished off the turkey stuffing, yams, potatoes, stuffing, some of the turkey, shrimp soup and white bean casserole.
Of course we had PIE !!
This leftover blast from the past is a good way to get your weekend started.
Make two.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Messing with Yams
"Don't mess with Thanksgiving."
I'm told that every year. Without fail.
Yes, it's true, in previous years I have messed with the tried and true Thanksgiving dinner formula and sometimes there are winners and sometimes there are losers. However, the diners just don't want the risk.
A Thanksgiving dinner should be risk free: roasted turkey, vegetables and desserts. Simple. No risk.
So, I was told not to mess with the turkey, not to mess with the casseroles, not to mess with the desserts.
But nobody told me not to mess with the yams or sweet potatoes by another name. Why? Because, in general, nobody but me eats them. I can do what I want with yams and over the years I've done just that. My standard recipe is simple: cut up yams dredged in flour, tossed with brown sugar, dabbed with butter, a little water added, covered in foil and baked with the final 30 minutes or so open to crunch up the top. Just make sure they don't dry out and baste them every 20 minutes. Not a great dish but certainly passable.
This year, though, I thought I'd mess with the yams because I came across a new mango/ginger/habanero sauce that I wanted to try and I figured that yams were the perfect base.
I was right. I used less brown sugar and added a liberal dousing of Fischer and Wieser's "Mang O Nero" mango, ginger, habanero sauce and the rest, as they say, was history.
Not overpowering, the sauce complimented the yams perfectly, let all of the flavors come through and provided a nice, gentle zing at the end. It's always a little tricky putting habanero in recipes because you run the risk of welding lips shut which is never a good thing.
This time, several thumbs up. Kink approves.
I'm told that every year. Without fail.
Yes, it's true, in previous years I have messed with the tried and true Thanksgiving dinner formula and sometimes there are winners and sometimes there are losers. However, the diners just don't want the risk.
A Thanksgiving dinner should be risk free: roasted turkey, vegetables and desserts. Simple. No risk.
So, I was told not to mess with the turkey, not to mess with the casseroles, not to mess with the desserts.
But nobody told me not to mess with the yams or sweet potatoes by another name. Why? Because, in general, nobody but me eats them. I can do what I want with yams and over the years I've done just that. My standard recipe is simple: cut up yams dredged in flour, tossed with brown sugar, dabbed with butter, a little water added, covered in foil and baked with the final 30 minutes or so open to crunch up the top. Just make sure they don't dry out and baste them every 20 minutes. Not a great dish but certainly passable.
This year, though, I thought I'd mess with the yams because I came across a new mango/ginger/habanero sauce that I wanted to try and I figured that yams were the perfect base.
I was right. I used less brown sugar and added a liberal dousing of Fischer and Wieser's "Mang O Nero" mango, ginger, habanero sauce and the rest, as they say, was history.
Not overpowering, the sauce complimented the yams perfectly, let all of the flavors come through and provided a nice, gentle zing at the end. It's always a little tricky putting habanero in recipes because you run the risk of welding lips shut which is never a good thing.
This time, several thumbs up. Kink approves.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Andouille Time Again
It's November and time to whip up another batch of smoked Andouille sausage.
Here's the blueprint:
Pork shoulder
Garlic
Salt
Cayenne Pepper
Black Pepper
Paprika
Other Stuff
Tender Quick (curative)
Water
Cut the meat into inch or so cubes. Mix the spices and make a slurry with some water. Mix meat and slurry, bag it and let rest in the fridge for a couple of days.
Then cut one-quarter of the meat into tiny bits, grind the rest, mix and mix with a bit of powdered milk as a binder and stuff into pork sausage casing.
Dry in the fridge for a couple of days, then smoke at a low heat (170 F) until the internal temp reaches 165 F or so, but before the fat renders out of the sausage. You want to cook the meat but not fry the fat.
So, here's the pork after 2 days of marinating in the spice and curative. Notice the nice pink color it's developed and the chunks of garlic. Cutting these strips into small chunks and adding them to the rest of the pork that's been ground coursely adds to the texture of the sausage.
Here's the blueprint:
Pork shoulder
Garlic
Salt
Cayenne Pepper
Black Pepper
Paprika
Other Stuff
Tender Quick (curative)
Water
Cut the meat into inch or so cubes. Mix the spices and make a slurry with some water. Mix meat and slurry, bag it and let rest in the fridge for a couple of days.
Then cut one-quarter of the meat into tiny bits, grind the rest, mix and mix with a bit of powdered milk as a binder and stuff into pork sausage casing.
Dry in the fridge for a couple of days, then smoke at a low heat (170 F) until the internal temp reaches 165 F or so, but before the fat renders out of the sausage. You want to cook the meat but not fry the fat.
So, here's the pork after 2 days of marinating in the spice and curative. Notice the nice pink color it's developed and the chunks of garlic. Cutting these strips into small chunks and adding them to the rest of the pork that's been ground coursely adds to the texture of the sausage.
And here is the stuffed sausage ready for drying in the fridge prior to smoking. I used just shy of 10 lbs of pork for this sausage and I got about 10 feet of sausage. I'll smoke it, cut it into portions, vacuum seal it and freeze it for use later in gumbos, stews, soups and other dishes that need a little spiced pork.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Choices
Cold out. Dinner in.
Cat on lap. Fire on.
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or ...
Cat on lap. Fire on.
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or blogging?
Sleeping or ...
Monday, November 19, 2012
Curried Flavor
I've written about Manjula before.
Manjula is an Indian lady living in San Diego who has a YouTube channel where she demonstrates Indian cooking. Outstanding but simple recipes.
My curry cooking elevated many levels just from watching Manjula cook.
Tonight was no exception.
Uninspired and expecting cold, hungry people I inventoried my ingredients and found the basic three: fresh tomatoes, jalapeño and ginger. To this I added an egg plant, can of chick peas and a bag of lentils.
Manjula's basic recipe is simple: buzz up the tomatoes, ginger and jalapeño and sauté the mixture in a little oil, then add in curry spices and garam masala, cover and cook.
That's it.
It's sort of like a Texas chili which has the same ingredients along with a ton of cow and left to settle for about two hours, although Manjula's currys only need 30 minutes or so.
Anyway, the hordes arrived to great smells in the kitchen and exclamations that I must have spent the entire day cooking.
My secret.
And yours.
Manjula's Kitchen on YouTube. Go there and be enlightened.
Manjula is an Indian lady living in San Diego who has a YouTube channel where she demonstrates Indian cooking. Outstanding but simple recipes.
My curry cooking elevated many levels just from watching Manjula cook.
Tonight was no exception.
Uninspired and expecting cold, hungry people I inventoried my ingredients and found the basic three: fresh tomatoes, jalapeño and ginger. To this I added an egg plant, can of chick peas and a bag of lentils.
Manjula's basic recipe is simple: buzz up the tomatoes, ginger and jalapeño and sauté the mixture in a little oil, then add in curry spices and garam masala, cover and cook.
That's it.
It's sort of like a Texas chili which has the same ingredients along with a ton of cow and left to settle for about two hours, although Manjula's currys only need 30 minutes or so.
Anyway, the hordes arrived to great smells in the kitchen and exclamations that I must have spent the entire day cooking.
My secret.
And yours.
Manjula's Kitchen on YouTube. Go there and be enlightened.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Twiinkie RIP
It's probably a bit early to dig a grave for the venerable Twinkie, although Twinkie certainly did its best to dig a grave for us! I think the Twinkie will live on and possibly, with a little effort, work its way back into polite society, so to speak.
Looking back, the Twinkie was my second favorite of the Hostess "big three." Hostess Cup Cakes were my favorite: chocolate frosted devil's food with a cream center. Second were Twinkies: sponge cake fingers with a cream center. And in last place were Snowballs: coconut marshmallow covered devil's food cake with a cream center.
( Hostess certainly had the "cream center" down pat! )
I put Cup Cakes at the head of the line simply for greed. I thought you got more for your money with Cup Cakes than with Twinkies and Snowballs came in last because of the coconut - Duh! With Cup Cakes you got the cake and the cream center, plus a chocolate frosted toping. The little white curl on top was of no account whatsoever and didn't figure into the equation. Simply not an issue.
As far as a quick snack went a pair of Twinkies wasn't a bad option. At least you knew what you were getting and I can say one thing for sure about Twinkies:
I never had a stale Twinkie.
It may not be possible to stale-ify a Twinkie. Surly there has been some research on the subject. It's mind boggling to think that a billion years from now cockroaches could be dining on fresh Twinkies.
So, maybe Twinkies aren't RIP after all. It could be we're on the verge of a ...
Zombie Twinkpocalypse!
Looking back, the Twinkie was my second favorite of the Hostess "big three." Hostess Cup Cakes were my favorite: chocolate frosted devil's food with a cream center. Second were Twinkies: sponge cake fingers with a cream center. And in last place were Snowballs: coconut marshmallow covered devil's food cake with a cream center.
( Hostess certainly had the "cream center" down pat! )
I put Cup Cakes at the head of the line simply for greed. I thought you got more for your money with Cup Cakes than with Twinkies and Snowballs came in last because of the coconut - Duh! With Cup Cakes you got the cake and the cream center, plus a chocolate frosted toping. The little white curl on top was of no account whatsoever and didn't figure into the equation. Simply not an issue.
As far as a quick snack went a pair of Twinkies wasn't a bad option. At least you knew what you were getting and I can say one thing for sure about Twinkies:
I never had a stale Twinkie.
It may not be possible to stale-ify a Twinkie. Surly there has been some research on the subject. It's mind boggling to think that a billion years from now cockroaches could be dining on fresh Twinkies.
So, maybe Twinkies aren't RIP after all. It could be we're on the verge of a ...
Zombie Twinkpocalypse!
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Meat the Loaf
"Let's have meat loaf tonight!"
The perfect suggestion landed in my ears with a welcome smack. Meat loaf, indeed. Why hadn't I thought of that?
Of course, with meat loaf there's always a problem and the problem is that we EAT IT ALL! I could make 40 pans of meat loaf and we'd sit there going through a case of ketchup and 5 bushels of mashed potatoes chomping through every last one.
Is meat loaf that good?
Well, mine is!
The basic blueprint is simple:
hamburger and sausage, about half and half or whatever you have.
sautéed onions, one or two or whatever you have
carrot or other veggies or whatever you have
breadcrumbs or oatmeal flakes or whatever you have
What's-this-here-sauce or whatever you have
egg or no egg or whatever you have
salt, pepper or curry powder or gunpowder or whatever you have
Mix it in a bowl or on a board or in or on whatever you have.
Throw it in a pan, wrap it in foil or toss it in the oven in whatever you have.
Cook it at 350 or 360 or 375 or in a Dutch oven on a fire or use a blowtorch or whatever you have.
Cook until done, unless you like it rare, or unless you like it well done or whatever you like.
Serve with mashed potatoes, ketchup and two bottles of wine. That's a requirement.
Enjoy, or whatever you like.
That's my story and I'm sticking with it. Whatever.
The perfect suggestion landed in my ears with a welcome smack. Meat loaf, indeed. Why hadn't I thought of that?
Of course, with meat loaf there's always a problem and the problem is that we EAT IT ALL! I could make 40 pans of meat loaf and we'd sit there going through a case of ketchup and 5 bushels of mashed potatoes chomping through every last one.
Is meat loaf that good?
Well, mine is!
The basic blueprint is simple:
hamburger and sausage, about half and half or whatever you have.
sautéed onions, one or two or whatever you have
carrot or other veggies or whatever you have
breadcrumbs or oatmeal flakes or whatever you have
What's-this-here-sauce or whatever you have
egg or no egg or whatever you have
salt, pepper or curry powder or gunpowder or whatever you have
Mix it in a bowl or on a board or in or on whatever you have.
Throw it in a pan, wrap it in foil or toss it in the oven in whatever you have.
Cook it at 350 or 360 or 375 or in a Dutch oven on a fire or use a blowtorch or whatever you have.
Cook until done, unless you like it rare, or unless you like it well done or whatever you like.
Serve with mashed potatoes, ketchup and two bottles of wine. That's a requirement.
Enjoy, or whatever you like.
That's my story and I'm sticking with it. Whatever.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Hail Del Davis
Here's an opening line that should be easy to recognize:
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair...
Dickens. Tale of Two Cities.
One of my favorite books that I have read 3-4 times and maybe five. Or more. I don't remember the times so much as the Times and that's the important thing.
Here's another:
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
That's the opening line for The Hobbit by Tolkien. It's the sort of opening line that draws you in to the story immediately.
I remember where I was when I read that line and I remember thinking at the time, "I'm going to like this book." And I did.
I was introduced to The Hobbit by my junior year English teacher, Del Davis, to whom I am indebted for many reasons.
First, Del introduced me to The Hobbit and later I moved on to the Lord of the Rings which had just come out in paperback at our local bookstore. Also, Del introduced me to the writings of Lao Tsu which influenced my life over the next decade. Del also encouraged his class to learn to think for themselves which set me on a path I follow to this day.
So, thank you, Del, your mentorship influenced a generation of students. I think about you every time I re-read The Hobbit and I think I'll start again tonight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
