Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Going Too Far

What is wrong with people these days? What makes them think they can improve on a wonderfully simple thing? I present to you today the stupidly named S'More To Love STL-600 S'More Maker. This, people, THIS is why America is going to hell in a handbasket. Because big corporate companies like the maker of the S'More To Love STL-600 S'More Maker hates the Girl Scouts of America!

There are certain memories and rituals you just don't mess with. If you've ever been a Boy or Girl Scout, more than likely you went camping. You got to sleep in a tent. You got to swim in a lake. You got a cool knife.

OK, maybe it wasn't exactly the knife you really wanted...

...but the point is that you learned how to safely use a knife without slicing off any important digits you might need later in life. You also learned how to whittle down sharp ends of a long stick to roast marshmallows and build the fire to roast those marshmallows.

These are important character building exercises. It's important to know if you will you be a whiny, smoke gets in your eyes, crybaby, or will you be a campfire warrior who will accept nothing less than a smoking char of a marshmallow, who would really rather be off practicing her knife throwing skills in the dark? (Apparently some of us were more suited to Xena, Warrior Princess Camp)

S'More were messy. Your marshmallow might have bits of burned bark embedded in it, it might have dirt on it but you still smashed it between a layer of Hershey's chocolate and two graham crackers and enjoyed every bite of it's charred goodness. You were camping in the great dirty outdoors. You were supposed to get filthy. You were supposed to go home dirty and grime encrusted, so much so that your mother could read the hieroglyphics of whether you had a good time by the grunge stains in your clothes. She could wonder at the your bloody knees, not that you hurt yourself but that you could still draw blood through the thick scars from all the knee scraps that came before. But now the makers of STL-600 want to take that all away.

"No more dirty campfires and burnt marshmallows - this innovative treat-maker allows you to make 6 tasty S'mores in just minutes."

Heathens!!! Dirty campfires and burnt marshmallows are American as apple pie and fried chicken. It's like spitting on the flag....and not just any flag...

...but like spitting on the Star Spangled Banner Flag. So take your cheap geegaw and melt it down into something useful, like a cast iron skillet.

We can never have too many of those.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Still Here

I'm still here. I pretty much expected to still be here despite Rapture Fever. No way a heathen like me was going anywhere but to work on Monday morning. Still it's always good to be prepared. I thought a Post-Rapture dish was in order. Something hot and spicy for those of us left prepare us for a possible spicy afterlife. Beef Short Ribs with Red Chili Sauce seemed appropriate with not just one but two devilishly spicy dried chili varieties.

guajillo chili

ancho chile

It makes my eyes burn just to look at them. Actually if I squint hard enough I think I can see the face of El Diablo in that ancho chili. Even worse? The extracted liquid after you soak and pulverize the chilies.

Diablo Sauce

I'm sure this is some pretty tame stuff for most heat loving folks but for me it's an adventure in eating. Yet mixed with the meaty juices of the short ribs, it's not as spicy as I thought it would be.

post rapture short ribs

Nice thick meaty short ribs with a mule kicking sauce is pretty good heathen eating. I even have enough sauce leftover to try broiling some sliced eggplant with it. Now if I can just find some peach ice cream for dessert? Wonder if the Raptured took it all with them?

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Stirring Memories

Spring, traditionally, is the season of rebirth. Where living things, whether they be animal or plant, shake off the cold gray dregs of winter and bask in sunlight. They turn their faces or their leaves and soak. It's not normally a cruel season but for this spring, for me, it certainly is.
Vintage Sarah

Before I was cook or foodie, before I ever snapped my first picture, I was a dog person. I'm not sure how it happened. Maybe it was the Ribsy character in the Beverly Cleary books that I first proudly checked out at the library. It could have been Jack London's Buck who finally yielded to The Call of the Wild. Maybe it was our own wild beagle Skipper, who made our lives as adventurous children much easier by getting into so much trouble we looked like angels in comparison. Or maybe it was the neighborhood mutt who really belonged to no one but appreciated the love of a small girl who would pick nasty ticks from his blond coat. Or the smiling little Schnauzer Cindy who even went to the beach with us. All I know is that having a dog in my life is natural and right. There is a price to pay though. We all know it, we dog people, that the moment you sign those adoption papers or pick up that stray, that the moment comes when you have to say goodbye. That moment came recently for me as I said goodbye to not one, but two members of my little pack in the space of two months, ending a journey that spanned sixteen years. Winter may have been long and cold but my spring is bitter and dark. I need the comfort of routine.

I need activities to busy my brain and my hands. Judith Jones, the woman with the legendary eye for plucking diamonds from the pile of rejected manuscripts, has written her own cookbook. Following the passing of her husband, she finds herself adjusting to a new life of cooking just for herself. I need something intensive yet comforting. Mushroom risotto with it's close attention to the stirring details should help. I have yet to achieve that creamy, spreading plate of risotto. So it begins, with the mincing of some shallots and heating them in a pan with some olive oil and dehydrating whatever dried mushrooms you'd like to use with your risotto. Don't throw out the mushroom soaking liquid, it's good stuff that you'll heat up with your stock. Once your shallots have cooked about 4 minutes and before they get browned, add your rice. Just a little glaze in the pan for the rice, about a minute. Next a bit of wine, cooked until it's absorbed. Now begins the process of adding hot liquid and stirring and moving your rice around. It's here that the memories crowd out the present.

We had a dog. That dog was Bear. But as most dog people will tell you, while most dogs enjoy the company of people, they much prefer the company of other dogs. That is what dog people will tell you to your face. What they fail to mention is that this Dog Truth also allows dog people to stuff their homes with more dogs without having to admit that you're getting another dog for you, not your poor, lonely, pining away for a companion, dog. Thus it was decided that Bear would enjoy the company of a sister dog. This is how my partner and I ended up standing on the cold concrete floor of a windowless garage where a small, sable colored German Shepherd cowered in abject fear in a corner. I'm not sure what the man's purpose was in buying this Backyard Breeder special, all I know is that she needed someone with a huge soft heart. I could feel my partner's NO in her mouth even with my back to her. I told the man Yes, even before she had a chance to speak. The man asked if we wanted the tiny towel he had given the dog to sleep on in that cold garage. I couldn't get her in the SUV fast enough. Even in the truck, my partner still tried to comprehend what had just happened, how the "just going to look" trip turned into an adoption so quickly. All I know is that Sarah owned my heart from the moment she rested her head on the cushion between the front seats as if to say, I'm ok now, I'm with my right forever family.

Bear and Sarah on bed

Sarah at class

While she may have owned my heart, she tried my patience to boundaries I didn't even know I possessed. She was a submissive urinator. People terrified her. Luckily none of these traits turned into aggression. Plus she was great for the economy and the local dog trainers. We went to many classes and cowered under many chairs in a long fought battle to socialize with the world in general. The world of people may have been something she avoided at all costs, it was the world of dogs was where she was happiest.

Bear and Sarah wrestling

She loved the Beardog, certainly more than Bear loved her. They ran and played and eventually Sarah settled into a truce with the world of people as long as she could be safe with her own little family. I, on the other hand, was convinced that she was some sort of freakish DNA, species splicing experiment let loose in the Heartland. You see, I believe that Sarah was part goat, part beaver and part owl all stuffed into the body of a German Shepherd.

the head thing1

See, she would do this thing with her head. I swear she could put Linda Blair to shame. You ask her the right questions and she would swivel that head so much trying to figure out an answer for you that you couldn't help but love her. That was important because Miss Sarah had some powerful bad habits. The top of the list was the chewing. Now before you think that Sarah chewed for lack of dog appropriate objects to chew would be right but only because in Sarah World there is never enough to chew on. Most dog toys were merely an amuse bouche to Sarah. A warm up, a teaser to the grand feast that was the world in general. Sticks, logs, wind ripped branches were fun. Dog bones were good. Paper was particularly tasty. Grandma's knitting projects. Rugs, throws, pillows, comforters, dog beds, hats, socks, t-shirts all fell under her grinding jaws. The dog gnawed on the corner of a wall. How does one decide that a wall would taste good to chew on? And yet despite all the crap and junk she chewed up, it always came back out. Her stomach capacity and intestinal tract were legendary.


Her conscious? Uncluttered by guilt. She had other weaknesses, such as being easily manipulated by her love of peanut butter.

Peanut Butter Kisses

A little dab behind the ears of a willing participant and dog kisses will flow like honey. Could life get any better than this? Depends on that big soft heart tripping all over itself again.

Our friends were out puppy searching. Finally they had found exactly what they wanted. Poloroids were whipped out and it was love at first sight. Two pairs of enormous ears sitting on little blond shepherd bodies. "Somebody dropped these two brother puppies in a dumpster and we're taking one, you want the other?" Der! Does Paula Deen love butter? Do Americans love cheap gas? I was the easy one of the couple when it came to dogs. I tried a little reverse psychology on Bear and Sarah's other mommy. "Don't look at that picture" I warned. "Not if don't want to get another dog, you will NOT look at that picture." Of course she looked.

Jake and Tucker Day 1

Handsome Jake

There's just no fighting the incredible cuteness of the brothers, Jacob and Tucker. I mean, c'mon on, look at those ears?? Jacob was the last puzzle piece that easily fit into our wicked little tribe.

Sarah teaches jake

Big sister Sarah taught him the ropes of the ways of the house. Which direction the car comes from when someone comes home from work. Of not being allowed in the kitchen, when it's time to eat and when it's time to wake the humans for the important dog duties they are in charge of. Jacob took it all in stride. He was smart and quick and was the only one of the three to earn his Good Citizen award. He did have a style all his own when forced to live in a house full of females.

Jakey Kickin'

free form sleeper

It was this laid back attitude that made him a favorite of his cousins. Yes, Jakers, somehow vaulted into the familial hierarchy with alarming ease, writing letters, learning to read and generally becoming the dog equivalent of a Rock Star.

Reading Jake


Glasses and reading aren't so scary when your best dog bud is doing the same. Sarah adored him too, finding a more energetic playmate to help divert her chewing energies.

Jake and Sarah Snow

peeing on the fish

Jake and the fat fish

Whether it was playing in the snow or peeing on the big fish, we had a blast. The giant dog park had to be our most favorite activity in the whole wide world.

Jake and Sarah in the lake

The dog park was our heaven for so many reasons. Freedom, adventure and drama, not to mention fantastic exercise for all of us. It was where we all got in touch with our inner dog and if a deer happened to cross our path, well, we all might take off running after it. ALL of us. Some of us usually didn't make it far but we did get our heart pumping.

Big Daddy Deer*

We never "caught" a deer. There was even one time when they (they being the three dogs with incredibly sensitive canine noses) didn't even know the deer was close enough that I got the picture above. Let's face it, that deer wasn't worried at all, he knew he could outrun all of us with a flick of his tail. Descendants of mighty hunting wolves my ass.

Jake n the gnome

This was about as close as Jake got to a real deer.

I've stirred all of my hot liquid into the rice and I have failed again. Perhaps I've cooked it at too high a heat or maybe my hearts' just not into it. It's not loose enough and now I hear Tom Colicchio's voice in my head berating my risotto. However because it's my head, I tell Tom to shove it. Maybe I should have made the dog's favorite, Beef Barley soup. I was the rock star whenever I made that, especially searing all the oxtails. But now the house is too quiet. There's no click of nails on hardwood floors. There's no constant lapping of water from the dog bowl. A dog bowl that sits there still because I don't have the heart to take it up. I taste the risotto.

mushroom risotto

It sits like ashes in my mouth and is quickly disposed of into the trash. There is no handbook, no instruction manual to deal with grief. It is just something that must be endured. Slogged through. I realize that Jake and Sarah and Bear's suffering was quickly over with a little needle prick and sleep. Whatever pain they had is over. My pain exists because I'm left behind. My selfish need to have them, touch them, just to scratch their big silly ears. For now I must be content with my photos and my memories.

Wicked tribe

If there's a heaven where there are dogs (because it's not going to be much fun if there's not) then I wish to be hiding behind a big tree in the dog park and just wait for the inevitable pounding down the trail of twelve dog paws, sniffing me out of my hiding place, just like they always did in real life, quickly planting dog kisses on my face before urging me back down the path to our new adventures. That my friends, is a heaven I look forward to.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

A Chicken Noodle Soup by any other Name

How did you do on your guesstimates on Campbell's Chicken Noodle soups? Let's read some labels. Starting with the granddaddy of the condensed soup line, your basic chicken noodle soup.

plain cns

This is the cheapo of the bunch. Usually found on sale, this week it was 65¢ for a 10 3/4 oz can of soup at one of the larger grocery store chains in Kansas City. But yikes, it's full of sodium. For a half cup serving of condensed soup you'll be eating a whopping 890mg of salt. The American Heart Association recommends 1,500 mg a day so if you consumed a whole can of this soup you will have wiped out your sodium intake for the whole day. 65¢ is a cheap lunch but hypertension is not.

less sodium

Our next noodlely entry is the Less Sodium version. Less than what you may ask....and that would be the sodium packed basic version. So instead of 890mg you only get 660mg. Not a whole lot better. You'd also think it would be cheaper since it has less sodium probably because you're a normal adult with lots of common sense. But no, because not only did they take away sodium, they replaced it with fancy smancy sea salt. So there. That's why they feel like they can charge $1.37 a can.


Want "healthier" still? How about the Healthy Request version. It has the same amount of fat and saturated fat as the first one, 5% less cholesterol and even less sodium than the second one (410mg) but still not great. It also goes for a buck thirty seven a can.


Last but certainly not least in price, the Healthy Request, Home Style chicken noodle soup. I haven't a clue what makes it home style. It's still in a can, you still have to add water, and sodium and fat-wise, it's the same as the other Healthy Request. However you will pay $1.75 to discover if it's style is like your home. By the way, each of these four soups have the same amount of calories per serving. 60. Go figure.

These are just four versions of chicken soup with some sort of noodle. There's a whole line of more kid oriented versions, and double noodles but you know what. You can your own soup. I don't think you can make it with the noodles, I suspect they dissolve in the canning process but you can make your own chicken soup to can. Or you can just enjoy Warhol's soup cans.

warhol's soups

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Hmmm, hmmmm Confusing

What kind of shopper are you? A grabber and go? Carry a magnifying glass to analyze every label detail in depth? Send the spouse with a list? How about a little quiz? Behold the four cans of Campbell Chicken Noodle Soup.

Noodle soups

Can you tell me, without googling, which is the most expensive, which is the least expensive, which has the most sodium, and which has the least sodium. Which has the most calories and the least calories based on a 1/2 cup serving. Better yet, if the regular chicken noodle soup wasn't based on a homestyle recipe....what have we been eating all these years? Institutional soup? Lastly, if you were standing in the soup aisle, staring at the rows upon rows of soup trying to decide which chicken noodle soup to buy, based on the cans above, which one would you choose? Inquiring minds want to dig nosily into your shopping bidness.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Southern Saturdays with Virginia - Vidalia Onion Quiche

Southern Saturdays with Virginia is back just in time for Mother's Day. This Saturday we're making quiche using sweet Vidalia onions. Virginia, being a good Georgia girl, loves her sweet onions. They are the Official State Vegetable of Georgia so I don't want to hear anything about those faux sweet Texas onions. Growing up on the East Coast, Vidalia onions were one of those things you could get once during the season when they were sold out of the back of a semi trailer much like Florida oranges and grapefruits. My mother would fry up delicate little onions straws out of those Vidalias, making me some kind of viscious fried onion junkie. Today, however, we'll be making a Vidalia Onion Confit as a filling to quiche.

Vidalia Quiche

Virginia's recipe calls for 5 - 6 onions or 1 1/2 pounds but I don't know if they had a spectacular growing season or they are feeding these onions steroids because they were huge!! I only needed two and they were two of the small ones.

Vidalia Quiche 3

A little blind baking of the quiche crust with parchment paper lining the crust and then a layer of dried beans as weight to keep the crust level while it bakes.

Vidalia Quiche 2

The sweet onion confit goes into the bottom and then the custard mixture is ladled on top. Baked in the oven until set and voila....

Vidalia Onion Quiche1

...a quiche fit for Mom. Happy Southern Saturdays and Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms out there and especially my mom. Can you make me some of those onion straws the next time I'm home? I promise not to whine too loudly.