Month: January 2011

Believe it or Not

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It is near impossible to be morose when you sit down with a stack of cookbooks, unless of course — you are just naturally, genetically morose and you hold tightly onto your moroseness even if you just won the Publisher’s Clearing House sweepstakes.

Just so you know, the odds of winning the $10 million dollar prize is one in 1,750,000,000 billion. Morose is shutting the door to the prize patrol clustered on the porch with balloons, champagne, flowers and a big check saying,  “Go away, you’ve got the wrong house.”

Back in the kitchen, Morose picks up a cookbook to look for a potato recipe. “These are the best garlic mashed potatoes you will ever make, your guests from here on will ask for them by name.” Morose is not to be moved and slams the book shut.

The second suggests roast potatoes, “These are as crisp and brown as if they were deep-fried and their flavor is ambrosial.” She grabs a third book without blinking an eye. “Sautéed tiny new potatoes make this simple dish superlative.”

Bam. Slam. Flip.

“Potatoes have great affinities with butter, cream in any form, cheese, chives, dill, onions, parsley, chervil, rosemary, sage, oregano, bacon and mushrooms.” Morose mutters to herself as she moves to the oven, pops in a few spuds and with painstaking precision sets the timer.

And that is, I swear to God, the origin of the potato bar.

Jan Tenth

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Winter has finally lost its patience. It stood silently by through the December holidays, skipped the festivities on New Year’s, even passed on the feast of the epiphany January 6th. Which is a bit of a surprise since what better time to show Up!

Speaking of revelations, I discovered that a sleeve on the front of my cpu slides down. Underneath it are all kinds of ways to attach devices — USB ports, memory cards, speakers. Who knew?

Every time I uploaded pictures, I’ve wrestled the CPU tower out of the armoire, and unplugged something to connect my camera. Then I would jam the whole thing back, disturbing the tricky nest of wires and just hope for the best. 

So. Now I don’t have to do that anymore. Makes me wonder how many other things I am making harder than they have to be? 

Sat-ur-day, Sat-ur-day…

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Is it kind? Is it true? Is it useful?

According to Reader’s Digest — and other sources, that’s how Buddhists view their worlds. Which is all very right and good. Personally, among my favorite three questions are: Is it delicious? Is it stunning? Is it aromatic? 

On a cold winter’s day when the sun just barely glints behind a mass of clouds and this old house is wheezy with cold drafts, it’s time to cook. So I drove to the store with one thought in mind — “Beef, it’s what for dinner.”

Here’s what I bought — carrots, potatoes, onions, a 3.5 lb chuck roast, milk duds, junior mints (movie-theatre-size left over from the New Year Eve’s family Movie Night promotion and priced to sell at a $1.00 a box), lettuce, a mini french bread loaf, a pint of chocolate chip mint and a pint of coffee ice cream and some Pepperidge Farm cookies.

(It was pretty obvious that I should have eaten lunch before I went to the store. But what was done was done.)

I dug out my 7 quart non-stick cast aluminum Berndes (name dropping) dutch oven, turned the burner on high, tossed in some oil and seared the chuck roast. I added dried onion soup, water and turned it to simmer. Adding water periodically to keep a fair amount of liquid in the pot, I threw the vegetables in two hours later. 

Late in the afternoon, I took out the meat and vegetables and thickened the juices with flour and water and added salt and pepper.  It was ready freddy. I opened a bottle of wine and dished it up.  It was a winter weekend early supper and everything was just right.

Down in the Dairy Aisle

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I rounded the corner at the grocery store headed toward the dairy case. A man was standing there holding onto a quart of whipping cream with both hands as if it was going to escape from him at any second. 

He said, “Could I ask you something?”

 “Sure.” 

“My mother makes this dessert. It has a whole lot of whipped cream in it. She takes an  an angel food cake, tears it into pieces and puts it into a bowl. Then she pours chocolate over all of it. And then, I think she covers everything with whipped cream, and puts tin foil on it so that it is tight and puts a plate on the top to hold it down. It is the best dessert I ever had.”

He holds the carton up and asks, “Do you think this is what she uses?”

“I bet so,” I replied.  

“Is this the kind that you stir up with the electric hand mixer?”

“Yeah, it is. Now it won’t be sweet unless you add sugar. Is your mother’s whipped cream sweet?”

“Sweet. It is real sweet, the best dessert I ever had. How much sugar do you think she adds — a couple of spoonfuls?”

“Yeah probably, at least a couple of spoonfuls. Whip the cream up before you add sugar. Taste it as you go to see if it is sweet enough.  You’re going to have a lot.  How many people are eating dessert?”

“Just her and me,” he says. “It’s the best dessert I ever had. She just can’t quite remember how to make it anymore.”

 “Thanks,” he said as he turned to leave, “I’m going to give it a whirl.”

Later after I put my groceries away, I drifted toward the computer and found myself looking for an angel food ice box cake recipe. I found a lot of them. I guess it was a real show stopper dessert about 60 years ago when a hostess would finish hooverizing and head toward the kitchen. Tuck this recipe somewhere in case you run into someone who has forgotten how to make it. 

French Fries are the Devil

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Okay, I did think that Kanye West’s tweet, “French fries are the devil” spoofed by bless-his-heart earnest Josh Groban on Jimmy Kimmel‘s show was pretty funny.

But after I found out that West didn’t come up with the french fries line in the first place,  I’m thinkin’  —- people, pay attention, West is over-rated! Compared to say, Lily Tomlin:

“A sobering thought: what if, at this very moment, I am living up to my potential?”

“All my life, I wanted to be somebody. Now I see I should have been more specific.”

“Delusions of grandeur make me feel a lot better about myself.”

BUT then, what did I find out through the miracle of Google and perseverance — the author of those one liners is Jane Wagner. Jane, as it turns out, is a comedy writer and screen writer who as it happens is Lily’s partner.

Jane Wagner is evidently hilarious in private. Lily Tomlin is obviously hilarious in public with Jane Wagner’s stuff.

The upshot of all this is — I’ve forgiven Kanye West for tweeting someone else’s one liner. In life I guess you need to figure out whether you are the Glass or the Water. Both jobs are pretty important.

Listen Up.

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Inspired by the Jimmy Dean sausage commercials where the rather fruity Sun guy chides his colleagues for falling down on the job and then saves them all by passing a round of egg’n sausage sandwiches, I’ve decided to exercise an option over the universe. Ta da…

Let’s beef up the color scheme for rainbows. From the ordinaire — Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and Violet, to the extraordinaire — Scarlet, Bittersweet, Canary, Emerald, Cornflower, Eggplant, and Lavender.

Well, while we are at it, how ’bout if the “Red, White and Blue” is now “Crimson, Alabaster and Navy?”

“Black and White” is now “Raven and Snowflake.” Green, Yellow and Red traffic lights are  now Snow-Pea, Lemon and Cherry.

“Black and Blue?” No, “Sable and Ultramarine.”

Going for a black belt? Let’s call it Ebony. And in between — there’s Ivory, Citron, Carrot, Pistachio, Alice Blue, and Cocoa.

I feel better already, don’t you?  Pass me a sandwich, willya?

It is so over.

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Sometimes holidays are just so reluctant to leave the house. It’s as if they believe that they just got their last invitation. Used to be there was good reason. 

When I was a fan of post holiday sales even my favorite things could easily be usurped in one fell swoop at a good clearance sale.  But, most times their fears are unfounded.

Inventory is always real spotty a week into January. Who needs or wants a flock of Precious Moments Angel Babies with their basset hound teardrop eyes?

Besides I hear the Precious Moments market has really tanked. The kitschy figurines complete with inspirational messages and Christian themes are the brainchild of Samuel Butcher, an artist and business man. They were first produced in the seventies, as an outsourced operation in Asia. 

Carthage, Missouri is the state-side home of Precious Moments Inc. where founder Butcher (and sons) have created a complex centered around an homage to the Sistine Chapel albeit with dead baby angels illustrating the Biblical high points.

In its hey day, Precious Moments Park attracted 400,000+ visitors. Attendance is half that now. Wisely PMI has shut down the Fountain of Angels, Wedding Island, the RV park and Super Sam’s Restaurant to concentrate on core operations — a Huge gift shop and of course the replica of the Sistine Chapel which continues to strike most visitors speechless.

Butcher reportedly lives in the Philippines where he runs a small foundation and a big resort complete with a Precious Moments gift shop.  Wonder if he still has his decorations up?

BTW

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I’ve decided to blog more.  And so, I have joined the WordPress blog a day campaign for 2011. Sure, I know it’s much less committment than adopting a child or another stray cat but much more committment than learning a word a day or say, going to the store on a regular basis.  I expect it will be down right annoying at times but so what, bring on the discomfort.  

See you in the text box(s).

Stevie Reynolds

Worth a Look

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Wowsa! Buy a limited reprint for as little as $20 bucks from 20 x 200 , an internet art store with a mission of supporting emerging artists and collectors.

Founded by Jen Beckman in 07 as an expansion of her pocket-sized New York gallery, this is a place to troll for clever gifts for your clever friends. Beckman sells limited art prints in sizes and prices to fit most budgets. Every print comes with a numbered certificate of authenticity signed by the artist, a bio and instructions on how to care for your print.

The online collection is pretty extensive with clever gift guides to help shoppers narrow choices. Two new editions are added weekly, a photo and a work on paper.

Bar Tender | San Antonio, TX | 1-Person Household | Goes to sleep at 8AM and wakes up at 4PM daily.  
This print is one of a series, You Are What You Eat, documenting the interiors of refrigerators in homes across the United States. It’s called Bar Tender/San Antonio, TX/1- Person Household/Goes to sleep at 8 am and wakes up at 4 pm daily. The artist is Mark Menjivar.  

  
  
  
  
  
  
 

First Watch

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I had breakfast at First Watch this morning. It is a breakfast franchise named after the first shift in the nautical world. It’s squeaky clean, furnished sparsely with a cup and a water-glass positioned on every table to send a message of, ” Sit down, we’ve been waiting for you.” 

I ordered 2 poached eggs, an english muffin and a grilled ham slice. The eggs were perfectly poached, the english muffin nicely buttered and the ham slice predictably thick and rubbery. I had the paper, it was a sunny morning and without anything else scheduled — I had a fine time. 

I was idly eavesdropping on nearby conversations when I looked at the bottom of the check and saw, “One cannot think well, love well, sleep well if one has not dined well.” (Virginia Woolf)

Oh my goodness, I thought. Woolf, as you may well know, is an all-star literary muse, an English writer and feminist born in 1882 who had an Extraordinary impact on fiction before she committed suicide at age 41.

I pictured Virginia sitting opposite me, grabbing the check , saying that she’d pick it up, then looking down and seeing her quote.  

“What the f—?”

“Yeah, ” I shrug — “Wait til you hear about the Kindle.”