My microwave makes me crazy. I rarely use it because, well, I think microwaves tend to ruin food more than anything. HOWEVER: they're great for some things like melting butter or heating up the cup of coffee you poured then forgot about although I wouldn't recommend making a habit of the latter because, well, we're now full circle back to the whole ruining food bit. A perfectly delicious cup of french-pressed coffee will not be as delicious after it's nuked, but it will do in a pinch.
Anyway. I melted some butter this morning for a recipe about which I will blog later (maybe, I have like 4 food blogs in my camera waiting to be liberated) and predictably it handled the job just fine, but here's the thing that makes Jen crazy: this fucker will sit there and beep every 10 seconds until you open the goddamned door or push the off button. I cannot tell you how much this vexes me. What I can tell you is this: had I known that his particular microwave had this particular feature, my particular ass would have passed it up for a different microwave that didn't feel the need to beep at me incessantly.
You see, I am not a fan of unneeded noise. If your dog barks at nothing for more than about 20 minutes, I'm probably going to hate you (this is why Nacho is a dick and I walk around with a squirt bottle practically attached to my person, see?). If your stupid SUV beeps every time you put it in reverse, I'm going to secretly make fun of you and on my really bad days, I'll probably think you should die. I've had two cars that came with that feature; I had Ford disable it before it left the lot and I disabled it myself on my Subaru (Subaru has a better idea: there's actually a switch in the back so you can do it yourself. God bless Subaru.) I can't stand douchebags who remove mufflers from their cars - have you ever noticed that they're also the same douchebags whose cars go BOOM BOOM BOOM everywhere they go? Yeah well, I hate them too.
My ears are a curse, I realize this. My whole life, I've been plagued by having almost dog-like hearing when it comes to irritating noises. At the ripe age of almost 40 and some 50 concerts later, my hearing has dulled somewhat, but not enough for me to retain any semblance of sanity in the face of irritating beeps, whines and whirs that happen in life. I can't take it - clearly, I need to move to a farm somewhere. CLEARLY.
Oh. Last night I discovered another use for microwaves: s'mores. I'm a traditionalist when it comes to s'mores in that I've always believed that the only way to make a s'more is with fire. A couple of months ago I bought some expensive, artisan-style marshmallows (I know, I know - they don't have HFCS, okay?) at Trader Joe's, along with some single serving chocolate bars. I'd intended for the kids to make s'mores the next time we grilled out, but then I forgot. And then when I *did* remember, we didn't have any graham crackers anymore. That all changed last week - we picked up some graham crackers to make key lime squares and suddenly, I have an almost full box of graham crackers, plus those expensive, artisan marshmallows were staring at me as if to say, "whatchoo gon' act like, boo" every time I opened the pantry. So last night, I popped open the package, placed one on top of a graham cracker and nuked it along with another graham cracker with chocolate on it. I learned that there is a fine line between melted perfectly and OH SHIT, MARSHMALLOW GOO, but I also learned that micro s'mores trump the crap out of campfire s'mores. Moan-inducing, knee-weakening goodness - I've never pulled a marshmallow out of the fire that was melted as perfectly.
I realized that this is what s'mores are supposed to taste like and WOW, this could be dangerous.
September 15, 2008
August 25, 2008
I am leaving town tomorrow for an overnight trip to San Diego which is awesome but almost more work than it's worth. Since Amy's coming to take care of the children (both fur kind and human kind), I want to make sure the house is super clean. Sheets changed, bathrooms and kitchen scrubbed, laundry done. I also promised Jake I'd make some spaghetti sauce, so I guess I'm House Bitch Extraordinaire today. I'd rather be at the beach, frankly.
I decided (okay, my wallet decided) to eschew (can we talk about what an awesome word that is? I'll wait.) the hairdresser for the boys' haircuts and instead took them to Super Cuts, a place whose door I haven't darkened in probably 20 years. I was nervous which is lame, but their hair is srs bsns, okay? The haircuts turned out great, but what is with the product pushing? Do little boys really need $25 bottles of conditioner? No, they don't. Neither does that bald man whose remaining 25 hairs you just shaved off. I am sorry you don't get paid enough, but please do not try to supplement your meager income by trying to push $25 bottles of conditioner on me and poor bald men and please do not wrinkle your nose at me when I tell you that they use Suave. *I* use Suave, too, and my hair is rad. Plus it's less than $2 a BOTTLE; when you've got three long-haired people using a shit-ton of conditioner every time they shower, you have to be frugal. What's funny, though, is how she tried to tell me that their hair is 'very dry and damaged'. Bitch, what? Have you taken a mirror to the back of your head because I'm thinking maybe you're confused about what dry and damaged is. Plus you have a perm, so really wtf do you know? Just cut. their. hair.
I hate upselling. Nothing turns me off more. It's like going to the vet and they immediately try to upsell you into teeth cleaning and a vitamin/food regimen that's guaranteed to make your dog stop shedding, or the chiropractor and their supplements and protein powders, all so you can have a Better Life! Well shit, are you telling me that for 40 years, it's all been a sham? Not that I'm 40 or anything, it's just the first number the popped out.
We met some friends for dinner Saturday night and I have to say: I had the best time I've had out in a long time. We shut the place down (at 10pm, hahaha we're old) and really didn't want to leave. We ate more food than should be legal, we shared forks (I love being that comfortable with people) and stories of animal treachery. I learnt about how dolphins are assholes - we've decided they're the monkeys of the sea. I'd tell you all about it, but I don't want to shatter your illusions of Flipper grandeur, so believe me when I say: Monkeys of the sea, people, minus the opposable thumbs. I think that about says it all. I feel badly, though, that Jennie's birthday had to be shadowed by tales of violent dolphin shenanigans, but I guess the Truth isn't really concerned about birthday celebrations, that bitch.
I decided (okay, my wallet decided) to eschew (can we talk about what an awesome word that is? I'll wait.) the hairdresser for the boys' haircuts and instead took them to Super Cuts, a place whose door I haven't darkened in probably 20 years. I was nervous which is lame, but their hair is srs bsns, okay? The haircuts turned out great, but what is with the product pushing? Do little boys really need $25 bottles of conditioner? No, they don't. Neither does that bald man whose remaining 25 hairs you just shaved off. I am sorry you don't get paid enough, but please do not try to supplement your meager income by trying to push $25 bottles of conditioner on me and poor bald men and please do not wrinkle your nose at me when I tell you that they use Suave. *I* use Suave, too, and my hair is rad. Plus it's less than $2 a BOTTLE; when you've got three long-haired people using a shit-ton of conditioner every time they shower, you have to be frugal. What's funny, though, is how she tried to tell me that their hair is 'very dry and damaged'. Bitch, what? Have you taken a mirror to the back of your head because I'm thinking maybe you're confused about what dry and damaged is. Plus you have a perm, so really wtf do you know? Just cut. their. hair.
I hate upselling. Nothing turns me off more. It's like going to the vet and they immediately try to upsell you into teeth cleaning and a vitamin/food regimen that's guaranteed to make your dog stop shedding, or the chiropractor and their supplements and protein powders, all so you can have a Better Life! Well shit, are you telling me that for 40 years, it's all been a sham? Not that I'm 40 or anything, it's just the first number the popped out.
We met some friends for dinner Saturday night and I have to say: I had the best time I've had out in a long time. We shut the place down (at 10pm, hahaha we're old) and really didn't want to leave. We ate more food than should be legal, we shared forks (I love being that comfortable with people) and stories of animal treachery. I learnt about how dolphins are assholes - we've decided they're the monkeys of the sea. I'd tell you all about it, but I don't want to shatter your illusions of Flipper grandeur, so believe me when I say: Monkeys of the sea, people, minus the opposable thumbs. I think that about says it all. I feel badly, though, that Jennie's birthday had to be shadowed by tales of violent dolphin shenanigans, but I guess the Truth isn't really concerned about birthday celebrations, that bitch.
August 19, 2008
As I've mentioned, I'm also overwhelmed with zucchini. Fortuitously, I came across a recipe from Elise (one of my fave food blogs) for zucchini bread that uses both pineapple and raisins. It reminded me a lot of my favorite carrot cake recipe, so I decided to give it a whirl.
It's delicious and it does taste very much like a good carrot cake, minus the frosting which admittedly is the best part of carrot cake - I suppose you could frost this bread, too. Or do what we did and eat it constantly, with abandon, until it's all gone.
Zucchini Bread with Pineapple
Ingredients
3 eggs
1 cup olive oil (I used a light olive oil - EVOO wouldn't be very good)
2 cups sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
2 cups coarsely grated zucchini
1 can (8oz) crushed pineapple, drained
3 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup chopped walnuts (I left these out - hate walnuts plus Geoff has those pesky allergies)
1 cup raisins
Method
1. Preheat oven to 350°F. In a mixer, beat eggs. Add oil, sugar, and vanilla; continue beating mixture until thick and foamy. With a spoon, stir in the zucchini and pineapple.
2. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, salt, baking powder, cinnamon, and nutmeg. A third at a time, add dry ingredients into wet and gently stir (by hand) after each addition. Add the walnuts and raisins, blend gently.
3. Divide the batter equally between 2 greased and flour-dusted 5 by 9 inch loaf pans. Bake for 1 hour or until a wooden pick inserted in to the center comes out clean. Cool in pans for 10 minutes. Turn out onto wire racks to cool thoroughly.
Makes 2 loaves.
Adapted from a 1974 Sunset Magazine recipe
One of the tomatoes I'm growing this year is called Japanese Black Trifele. It's weird that it's called Japanese when it's really Russian, but whatever. I was intrigued by the shape (it's an ox heart) and was told the taste was outstanding, so I went for it.
It was a good decision. Big producer, delicious tomatoes. Almost salty, but not overly so - I've found that, unlike most hybrids, the heirloom tomatoes I'm growing need hardly any salt - their flavor is intensely deep and rich without it. Plus they're cool looking. (both are the same tomato - I can't explain the difference in shape, I can only say that so far, that's the only tomato to come from that bush that is round like that)
They're beautiful, delicious, and prolific. I'll definitely grow this one again next year.
It was a good decision. Big producer, delicious tomatoes. Almost salty, but not overly so - I've found that, unlike most hybrids, the heirloom tomatoes I'm growing need hardly any salt - their flavor is intensely deep and rich without it. Plus they're cool looking. (both are the same tomato - I can't explain the difference in shape, I can only say that so far, that's the only tomato to come from that bush that is round like that)
They're beautiful, delicious, and prolific. I'll definitely grow this one again next year.
Slow-roasted Tomatoes
This time of year food blogs tend to focus on recipes intended for your garden surplus, namely tomatoes and zucchini. Those of you who garden know what I'm talking about: you can't give the stuff away fast enough, nor are there enough ways in which you can use them up.
Until now.
I actually first saw slow-roasted tomatoes mentioned sometime in the winter. I made a mental note right then and there to try them. After, of course, I'd eaten my fill of bruschetta with tomato and basil. Oh and roasted tomato soup. We're in mid-august which means we're just coming into the peak of tomato season here in Southern California (don't hate, we often grow tomatoes right up until christmas) and still they're coming. So when I realized that I had a whole slew of tomatoes sitting on my counter that were dangerously close to going over (oh dear lord noooooooooooooo), I decided it was time to try slow-roasting them.
And oh my god, I am so glad I did.
The result was amazing: chewy, sweet, and slightly tart jewels of intense tomato flavored goodness. I posted the other day that I ate half of them right off the sheet but what I didn't tell you about is the incredible restraint it took not to eat them all.
Most of the blogs called for roma tomatoes because they tend to have much more meat than a regular slicing tomato. I don't grow romas, though, so I decided to bust that shit wide open and make them with what I had on hand - shocking! And yes, I know it's hot out and I'm telling you to use your oven...sack up. It's a low oven and once you taste these, you won't care. I promise.
Here's what I ended up actually putting away, mostly because I'm a glutton.
About an hour or two into cooking, mine looked like this:
So you can see that it really is a slow process. I can't repeat enough, though: It is so. worth. it.
I'd originally intended to use them for a pasta sauce but then I realized I was hungry and that these would be so, so delicious on some toast with cream cheese. I toasted some of Trader Joe's flourless 7-grain bread, smeared it with cream cheese and holy jesus on a plate, people. Screw using these for pasta, man.
So. Delicious.
I happened to have some leftover grated zucchini (from the zucchini/pineapple bread), so I decided to saute that up with some green onions - sort of like a hash brown, but with zucchini instead. The result was one of the best lunches I've had in a long time - most likely enhanced by the fact that I grew this stuff.
Until now.
I actually first saw slow-roasted tomatoes mentioned sometime in the winter. I made a mental note right then and there to try them. After, of course, I'd eaten my fill of bruschetta with tomato and basil. Oh and roasted tomato soup. We're in mid-august which means we're just coming into the peak of tomato season here in Southern California (don't hate, we often grow tomatoes right up until christmas) and still they're coming. So when I realized that I had a whole slew of tomatoes sitting on my counter that were dangerously close to going over (oh dear lord noooooooooooooo), I decided it was time to try slow-roasting them.
And oh my god, I am so glad I did.
The result was amazing: chewy, sweet, and slightly tart jewels of intense tomato flavored goodness. I posted the other day that I ate half of them right off the sheet but what I didn't tell you about is the incredible restraint it took not to eat them all.
Most of the blogs called for roma tomatoes because they tend to have much more meat than a regular slicing tomato. I don't grow romas, though, so I decided to bust that shit wide open and make them with what I had on hand - shocking! And yes, I know it's hot out and I'm telling you to use your oven...sack up. It's a low oven and once you taste these, you won't care. I promise.
Slow Roasted TomatoesTomatoes, lots of them. I used a mix of heirloom and hybrid slicers - you can use whatever you'd like, including roma and cherry. Olive oil Kosher salt (please do not use table salt. Not now, not ever) Freshly ground black pepper Herbs - I used thyme because I love it and grow a lot of it and dried oregano because I prefer dried oregano over fresh. YMMV, use whatever herbs make you excited, okay?
Preheat oven to 225. Slice tomatoes. If using small roma or cherry tomatoes, slice them in half stem to stem. If using larger tomatoes, you can half them stem to stem, then cut them into quarters. Or you can slice them along the equator. It really doesn't matter because this recipe is from Jesus and therefore very forgiving. And don't worry about the skin - it's part of what makes these so freaking delicious. Arrange them on a cookie sheet, cut side up. Drizzle with olive oil - don't go crazy, but don't be frugal, either. Tomatoes contain a lot of sugar and if there isn't enough oil, you're going to have a stuck-on mess and then you'll hate me and probably curse the day I was born and really? That's not okay.
Sprinkle with herbs/seasonings of your choice. You can also throw some garlic on there, either finely sliced or whole, unpeeled cloves to squeeze out on some bread later (oh god, I just drooled). Bake them on the lower rack of the oven for...well, that depends upon your tomatoes. Mine took about 5 hours. Bake them until they're shriveled but are still retaining a little juice. You may want to turn them over halfway through; I did, but I'm not sure it's necessary.
You can store these in the fridge, covered with olive oil, or apparently you can also freeze them. I'm not sure they'll last that long, though.
Here's what I ended up actually putting away, mostly because I'm a glutton.
About an hour or two into cooking, mine looked like this:
So you can see that it really is a slow process. I can't repeat enough, though: It is so. worth. it.
I'd originally intended to use them for a pasta sauce but then I realized I was hungry and that these would be so, so delicious on some toast with cream cheese. I toasted some of Trader Joe's flourless 7-grain bread, smeared it with cream cheese and holy jesus on a plate, people. Screw using these for pasta, man.
So. Delicious.
I happened to have some leftover grated zucchini (from the zucchini/pineapple bread), so I decided to saute that up with some green onions - sort of like a hash brown, but with zucchini instead. The result was one of the best lunches I've had in a long time - most likely enhanced by the fact that I grew this stuff.
August 17, 2008
The slow-roasted tomatoes? Like crack. I stood over the stove at 11:00 last night and ate so many that I got a stomach ache. This morning, I got up and resumed eating them. Before coffee, even; that's how good they are.
I took a couple of photos but I'm wholly unmotivated to upload them. Instead, I'm going to make zucchini pineapple bread.
I took a couple of photos but I'm wholly unmotivated to upload them. Instead, I'm going to make zucchini pineapple bread.
August 16, 2008
Predictably, I'm in the middle of a huge tomato glut. Is that the right word? Yes, I think it is. At any rate: despite the ratpocolypse wrought upon my garden, I still have more tomatoes than I can eat. I've given them away. I've made soup. I've eaten a lot of bruschetta. More soup. Wraps, salads, sandwiches...I've done it all and still they keep coming.
In my web travels, I keep coming across food blogs waxing poetic about slow-roasted tomatoes. Apparently, they're amazing, so amazing that you'll never buy sundried tomatoes again. I find this hard to believe, but I'm game and as such, I now have a half-sheet of tomatoes slow roasting in my oven. I'm excited and I'm told that I'll be so busy eating them right off the pan that there won't even be any need to freeze them for January when there is nary a decent tomato to be seen anywhere in this country.
I'll keep you posted.
Geoff has a problem in that he cannot ever leave this house without calling me. He will call me to tell me that the store is out of something. I know I'm talented and probably magic (especially inside my pants), but really: what the crap am I supposed to do about that? Call the manager and lodge a complaint? Wiggle my nose and wait while said object appears - magically - in front of him? What, internet, would he like me to do exactly? I asked him this very question and he didn't really know the answer. I wish someone did!
He just left to take Jake to a birthday party at a friend's house. A friend's house to which Jake has been many times and from which Geoff has picked him up about half of those many times. Do you know that this man called me just now to tell me he can't remember which house it is and neither can my (errant) son? What? "I'm at a stop sign at topeka and hatteras and I don't see the house". WELL, THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'VE ALREADY DRIVEN PAST IT. And yes, internet, I did give him directions before he left. No matter that he's lived in this valley as long as I have and no matter that this valley is built upon a grid system (it's awesome, every major street will take you to a freeway - anyone who gets lost here is retarded), he can't find the damned house even though he just drove past it.
I've decided that the next time he leaves this house, I'm going to take the phone off the hook. I'm sure the world will implode or maybe even explode (my kids get it from somewhere, okay?) but I think I'm going to be okay with that.
Not that I am bitter or anything. I mean, he can do calculus like a motherfucker - just don't ask him to pick your ass up at 2am because wow, he won't be able to find you. Even if he's been there before.
Don't be mad, Honey. I love you in spite of it. Just like you love me in spite of...everything.
In my web travels, I keep coming across food blogs waxing poetic about slow-roasted tomatoes. Apparently, they're amazing, so amazing that you'll never buy sundried tomatoes again. I find this hard to believe, but I'm game and as such, I now have a half-sheet of tomatoes slow roasting in my oven. I'm excited and I'm told that I'll be so busy eating them right off the pan that there won't even be any need to freeze them for January when there is nary a decent tomato to be seen anywhere in this country.
I'll keep you posted.
Geoff has a problem in that he cannot ever leave this house without calling me. He will call me to tell me that the store is out of something. I know I'm talented and probably magic (especially inside my pants), but really: what the crap am I supposed to do about that? Call the manager and lodge a complaint? Wiggle my nose and wait while said object appears - magically - in front of him? What, internet, would he like me to do exactly? I asked him this very question and he didn't really know the answer. I wish someone did!
He just left to take Jake to a birthday party at a friend's house. A friend's house to which Jake has been many times and from which Geoff has picked him up about half of those many times. Do you know that this man called me just now to tell me he can't remember which house it is and neither can my (errant) son? What? "I'm at a stop sign at topeka and hatteras and I don't see the house". WELL, THAT'S BECAUSE YOU'VE ALREADY DRIVEN PAST IT. And yes, internet, I did give him directions before he left. No matter that he's lived in this valley as long as I have and no matter that this valley is built upon a grid system (it's awesome, every major street will take you to a freeway - anyone who gets lost here is retarded), he can't find the damned house even though he just drove past it.
I've decided that the next time he leaves this house, I'm going to take the phone off the hook. I'm sure the world will implode or maybe even explode (my kids get it from somewhere, okay?) but I think I'm going to be okay with that.
Not that I am bitter or anything. I mean, he can do calculus like a motherfucker - just don't ask him to pick your ass up at 2am because wow, he won't be able to find you. Even if he's been there before.
Don't be mad, Honey. I love you in spite of it. Just like you love me in spite of...everything.
August 14, 2008
I hate Costco, so now I'm going to rant about it.
Screw the idea of needing a license to have children, how about proving you're not a complete and total retard before you're allowed to have a cell phone? Today I went to Costco - a place I hate with every part of my being probably because the place is a veritable magnet for unthinking people who lose all sense of reason when they see free food kiosks - with my two children in tow. Yes, I realize taking the children was a mistake. Yes, I realize that I always complain about how much I hate Costco. Yes, I realize I should never, ever, EVER go there again, but sometimes Grandma needs some things and alas, I have to drag my hate-filled self to Costco and brush shoulders with the unwashed, unthinking masses.
Back to the cell phones, okay? Listen, people: when you're walking into a store and your phone rings, it is not necessary or even okay for you to stop in the middle of the doorway - sideways - and dig through your giant purse (wtf is with women and giant purses, do y'all keep dead bodies in there or what) to look for your phone. How about you walk your ass inside the store and take two steps to the right or left whilst retrieving your phone? How would that be? Thinking about others? NO WAI.
And when you choose not to, don't get all indignant when the five people whose entrance you've effectively blocked, thereby forcing them to stand outside in the 100+ degree heat, get pissed off at your idiocy. You deserved every stank look and comment you got, lady. And your stank looks shot in my general direction later on in the store, while still on the phone at the top of your everloving lungs? Shove them up your ass. You exist in a world with other humans; if you don't have the sense enough to realize that then people like me are going to make sure that you do. Don't block doors, don't talk on your phone at the top of your lungs in public and don't wack into people with your cart because you're too busy talking on the phone at the top of your lungs.
Also: parents who let their children run wild with the carts - what the hell is wrong with you? I get that it's summer and your kids are probably bothering you just as much as mine are, but hi? I have my own annoying little monkeys to contend with; I'd prefer not to have to contend with yours shoving a cart right up my ass while you're six aisles away looking at cheese. Pay attention to your children, people - even rotten kids like yours could get kidnapped and this is not something you're going to be able to prevent if you're six aisles away pondering what kind of cheddar your family needs this week. You aren't even going to need all of that cheese if your kids go missing, lady - and even if Joe Kidnapper doesn't gank them, someone else might punch them in the neck a la Bernie Mac (RIP) because they're running around the store like a fuckin' hoodlums and you? You will be the first one to scream foul because someone dared to tell your precious babies not to act like dicks.
The free food purveyors this week were a slice of heaven. First there was the very cute little gay boy with a very cute tiny mohawk (I loved him!) who wouldn't stop hugging Zachary - once he realized he was a boy, his reaction was hilarious - all the while pitching his very horrible mexican food. It was so, so, bad. He kept giving me one sample after another, each one worse than the one before it. It was terrible and I think I deserve an emmy or maybe even an oscar for my oh wow, that's really good performance. Then he tried to put several boxes of his shitty mexican food into my cart - you have corn dogs, so I know you do frozen food...take some of these, too! - and I had to keep telling him I'll think about it, knowing full well I had no intention of buying his disgusting food. (mom, you lied to him!) AND he was Mexican! How could he like this crap? It was awful. I know I'm like the whitest person in Los Angeles, but that doesn't mean I eat shitty Mexican food, okay? I throw down, and none of it is premade frozen crap. My Mexican mother-in-law doesn't need another reason to hate me, okay? I'm so sure.
Then there was the lady with the allouette cheese who took - literally - 30 seconds to spread some cheese on a cracker. I've never seen anything like it and really, as I stood there waiting for my children to get crackers (they were fourth in line, you do the math and figure out how long I was waiting for two mothereffin crackers) I contemplated just leaving the kids there and running away. Except that I don't really have any money and my gas tank is almost empty, so really: where would I go?
Why do bagels have high fructose corn syrup? Is this some fucked up joke? I feel like it is and I'm the only one who doesn't get it.
And now apparently the world is about to end because someone's light saber won't retract properly. I'm gonna rock someone's world I'll tell you what, and it's not going to be in the good sexy way, either. Nope.
Back to the cell phones, okay? Listen, people: when you're walking into a store and your phone rings, it is not necessary or even okay for you to stop in the middle of the doorway - sideways - and dig through your giant purse (wtf is with women and giant purses, do y'all keep dead bodies in there or what) to look for your phone. How about you walk your ass inside the store and take two steps to the right or left whilst retrieving your phone? How would that be? Thinking about others? NO WAI.
And when you choose not to, don't get all indignant when the five people whose entrance you've effectively blocked, thereby forcing them to stand outside in the 100+ degree heat, get pissed off at your idiocy. You deserved every stank look and comment you got, lady. And your stank looks shot in my general direction later on in the store, while still on the phone at the top of your everloving lungs? Shove them up your ass. You exist in a world with other humans; if you don't have the sense enough to realize that then people like me are going to make sure that you do. Don't block doors, don't talk on your phone at the top of your lungs in public and don't wack into people with your cart because you're too busy talking on the phone at the top of your lungs.
Also: parents who let their children run wild with the carts - what the hell is wrong with you? I get that it's summer and your kids are probably bothering you just as much as mine are, but hi? I have my own annoying little monkeys to contend with; I'd prefer not to have to contend with yours shoving a cart right up my ass while you're six aisles away looking at cheese. Pay attention to your children, people - even rotten kids like yours could get kidnapped and this is not something you're going to be able to prevent if you're six aisles away pondering what kind of cheddar your family needs this week. You aren't even going to need all of that cheese if your kids go missing, lady - and even if Joe Kidnapper doesn't gank them, someone else might punch them in the neck a la Bernie Mac (RIP) because they're running around the store like a fuckin' hoodlums and you? You will be the first one to scream foul because someone dared to tell your precious babies not to act like dicks.
The free food purveyors this week were a slice of heaven. First there was the very cute little gay boy with a very cute tiny mohawk (I loved him!) who wouldn't stop hugging Zachary - once he realized he was a boy, his reaction was hilarious - all the while pitching his very horrible mexican food. It was so, so, bad. He kept giving me one sample after another, each one worse than the one before it. It was terrible and I think I deserve an emmy or maybe even an oscar for my oh wow, that's really good performance. Then he tried to put several boxes of his shitty mexican food into my cart - you have corn dogs, so I know you do frozen food...take some of these, too! - and I had to keep telling him I'll think about it, knowing full well I had no intention of buying his disgusting food. (mom, you lied to him!) AND he was Mexican! How could he like this crap? It was awful. I know I'm like the whitest person in Los Angeles, but that doesn't mean I eat shitty Mexican food, okay? I throw down, and none of it is premade frozen crap. My Mexican mother-in-law doesn't need another reason to hate me, okay? I'm so sure.
Then there was the lady with the allouette cheese who took - literally - 30 seconds to spread some cheese on a cracker. I've never seen anything like it and really, as I stood there waiting for my children to get crackers (they were fourth in line, you do the math and figure out how long I was waiting for two mothereffin crackers) I contemplated just leaving the kids there and running away. Except that I don't really have any money and my gas tank is almost empty, so really: where would I go?
Why do bagels have high fructose corn syrup? Is this some fucked up joke? I feel like it is and I'm the only one who doesn't get it.
And now apparently the world is about to end because someone's light saber won't retract properly. I'm gonna rock someone's world I'll tell you what, and it's not going to be in the good sexy way, either. Nope.
August 1, 2008
Recently, I tried my hand at ground chicken kebabs. I pulled from several different recipes (originally inspired, though, by Jamie Oliver's lamb kofta kebabs), some of which called for egg and some of which didn't. Ultimately I went with the egg; I wish I hadn't. The resulting mixture became far too lose to form onto a kebab and really kind of turned into a nightmare on the grill. Next time, no egg.
Into the food processor, I threw some boneless skinless chicken breasts and pulsed until they were minced. Dumped into a bowl, then went back to the food processor and threw in an onion, coriander seeds, a goodly handful each of mint, flat-leaf (because the other kind isn't edible) parsley and cilantro. I pulsed that until it was almost a puree, then dumped that into the ground chicken along with salt, sumac (seriously delicious), cumin and a bit of nutmeg. Mixed it all up along with some egg. Tried to form into sausage-y stick things, but it didn't work very well. For the record: it was totally formable before the egg. Then we grilled it until it was done and stuffed it into some pita.
I made a quick pickled onion: thinly sliced red onion into a bowl. Sprinkle some kosher or other large-grained salt (please do not use table salt for this or for anything, actually because ew) over and sort of smush the onion slices with the salt. Squeeze some lemon over top. Let it sit, but not overnight or anything because the onions will degrade and turn mushy and that's not yummy. At all.
I also sliced some tomatoes from the garden; on the right is the lovely heirloom Black Krim, on the left is the hybrid Champion (which, btw, gives a shit-ton of fruit)
Mmmmmmmmeat
The finished product all wrapped up in a pita with some romaine, homemade tzatziki (arabic or greek yogurt, grated and strained cucumber (from my garden because god, I am rad), garlic, mint (which is also from my garden because, well, you know), lemon juice and salt and pepper) and some delicious banana chiles (again, garden):
It was so, so, so delicious.
Into the food processor, I threw some boneless skinless chicken breasts and pulsed until they were minced. Dumped into a bowl, then went back to the food processor and threw in an onion, coriander seeds, a goodly handful each of mint, flat-leaf (because the other kind isn't edible) parsley and cilantro. I pulsed that until it was almost a puree, then dumped that into the ground chicken along with salt, sumac (seriously delicious), cumin and a bit of nutmeg. Mixed it all up along with some egg. Tried to form into sausage-y stick things, but it didn't work very well. For the record: it was totally formable before the egg. Then we grilled it until it was done and stuffed it into some pita.
I made a quick pickled onion: thinly sliced red onion into a bowl. Sprinkle some kosher or other large-grained salt (please do not use table salt for this or for anything, actually because ew) over and sort of smush the onion slices with the salt. Squeeze some lemon over top. Let it sit, but not overnight or anything because the onions will degrade and turn mushy and that's not yummy. At all.
I also sliced some tomatoes from the garden; on the right is the lovely heirloom Black Krim, on the left is the hybrid Champion (which, btw, gives a shit-ton of fruit)
Mmmmmmmmeat
The finished product all wrapped up in a pita with some romaine, homemade tzatziki (arabic or greek yogurt, grated and strained cucumber (from my garden because god, I am rad), garlic, mint (which is also from my garden because, well, you know), lemon juice and salt and pepper) and some delicious banana chiles (again, garden):
It was so, so, so delicious.
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