Stupid Questions?

“There are no stupid questions.”

Oh yes, there are.  So very many very stupid questions.

There are the fiduciarily stupid.

In a Mercedes dealership, “Can I buy that car with $40 and trading in my 1979 Chevy Chevette?”

Not only too stupid to drive, he’s probably too stupid to live independently.

Going into a bank, “Do y’all hand out free samples?”  Ashamed to say I’ve done this myself, but I didn’t mean it, I thought I was being hilarious.“How can I be broke when I got checks left?”  A check, Gentle Reader is what folks used to use before debit cards.  It’s a bank-backed written promise to pay.

Then you have the parentally stupid.

“My three-year-old loves the taste of coffee.  Is it okay if I only let him have two or three cups a day?”

After being questioned by the teacher when the first-grader turns in a perfect, working scale-model of the International Space Station, “Why would you think I did his work for him?”“Why is it illegal?  Our air conditioner isn’t working and the car’s full of cardboard for the recycle center.  She’s tied up there nice and tight, and I’m not even going the speed limit!”

“Sugar, why don’t you make momma a nice, dry martini?  Use the step stool so you can reach the olives.  You forgot last time.”

Medically stupid queries.

“I know I got the dia-beat-ies, so I only drink diet Coke when I eat Mack Donald’s.  What’s wrong with that?”“Is it true I can’t get pregnant if I do fifteen jumping jacks after?”

“How am I gaining weight?  I only eat salads; macaroni salad, potato salad, ham salad, ambrosia salad…”

“How come that guy has a handicapped spot?  He ain’t on crutches, or limping, or nothing!”

Romantically Stupid.

“Is this the best ring you could afford?”

Not only is, “Does this make me look fat?” a stupid question; legendary and prodigious is the stupidity of the person who answers it.  In any manner.“We’ve been dating two whole weeks!  Why wouldn’t I want to lend you $20,000?”

“Baby, who you gonna believe?  Me, or your lyin’ eyes?”

“Honey, do you think my sister is prettier than me?”

Stupidity in the great outdoors.

“Who wants to bet me I can’t rassle a ‘gator?”“Look!  That fox looks like he brushed his teeth, but forgot to rinse!  He looks friendly, wanna go pet him?”

“Lookit all this pretty ivy! How ‘bout we put some in pots and take it home?”  Twenty minutes later: “You itchy?”

“That water looks clean!  Wouldja gimme the canteen?”  Six hours later: “Oh God! Wouldja please just let me die?”

Stupid questions men ask.“How come it takes you so long to get ready?”

“Why do you need four pairs of black shoes?”

“I’m having a big steak.  Why do I even need a vegetable?”“You said you were trying to lose weight.  Do you really think you should eat that chocolate?”

“You sound upset.  Is it that time of the month?  Why don’t you calm down?”

“Honey-pie, why do you need that baseball bat?”Stupid questions that I’m guilty of asking.

To the dog, when looking at something either consumed or destroyed: “What have you done?”

To The Kid, when looking at something either consumed or destroyed: “What have you done”?“I think I can eat another stack of pancakes, don’t you?”  Twenty minutes later: “Why did you make me eat so much?”

In the eighties: “Does my hair look flat?”

“Do I look stupid?”

And the stupidest, most infuriating question of all time.

“Don’t you know who I am!?!”Thanks for your time.

Two Potato

Last week I talked about turning out a well-baked spud.This week I’d like to talk about all the wondrous, glorious things you can put inside said potato.  This time of year, it’s an easy cheap meal, that once you get in the oven practically does all the work for you.  And if people are coming over, baked spuds with a topping bar and a big salad make a nice easy spread.

A lot of these ideas will be delicious on either a russet or a sweet potato.  But some just work better on one or the other.  At the end of each idea, I’ll tell you what I think.  But hey, you do you.  Let that baked potato freak flag fly.

…but not that kind of tuber experiment.

And if you’ve got an awesome topping you like that I didn’t mention, drop me a line and let me know—I’m always up for a little tuber experimentation (That sounded kinda creepy, didn’t it?  Sorry.).

I’ll list the suggestions from the healthiest to the most indulgent.

Okey-dokey, let’s play!

Salsa, with some canned black beans stirred in.  Then top it with some non-fat Greek yogurt in which you’ve mixed in some lime juice, cumin, and cilantro.  Works with regular and sweet.Shredded chicken from a store-bought rotisserie and drizzled with chicken stock spiked with lemon juice, and thickened with a cornstarch slurry which you’ve studded with defrosted frozen peas.  Again, works with both types of spud.

One of my favorite things to do with holiday leftovers: drizzle a sweet potato with some fat-free (as fat-free as possible) turkey gravy, drop on a few dried cranberries, and speckle it with some freshly ground nutmeg.

Top with some giardiniera; Italian spicy pickled vegetables, roasted garlic (Cut head in half, drizzle with olive oil, season, wrap in foil and bake 1 hour at 350.), and top with a little Italian dressing.

One of Petey’s favorites is chili with a small sprinkling of grated cheddar and a dollop of light sour cream.

My brother Bud’s favorite: broccoli with lashings of cheese sauce.  He likes the neon orange, plastic sauce from a jar, which aside from being full of chemicals and sodium, is surprisingly low in fat and calories.It may sound really weird and trendy enough to make you wanna holler, but I love creamed kale on a baked sweet.  If you can’t face kale anymore, try creamed spinach.

Fry up a couple pieces of bacon, and set them aside.  Pour off most of the fat, but leave enough to sauté a peeled, cleaned, and cubed apple or pear.  Season it traditionally with cinnamon and nutmeg, or get crazy with some Chinese five-spice.  Add some dried cherries, and deglaze with something alcoholic like brandy, rum, or applejack.  Top with some butter toasted pecans.  Best on a sweet.

Caramelize a couple of yellow onions, sprinkle in some dried thyme, and deglaze with white wine.  Top with some crumbled goat cheese, cashews, and fresh chopped parsley.  Works with white or sweet.Drop on some diced ham and a poached egg or two.  Then spoon on the hollandaise.  Best with white.

Crisp up some pancetta.  Set aside and with some of the fat, caramelize mushrooms.  Add heavy cream, thyme, shallots, and cook until thick and creamy.  Spoon into russet and top with crispy pancetta.  Best on regular.

And, finally the classic: butter, sour cream, and chives.  It’s the classic for a reason.  But do it right, or do something else.  Use thick, tangy, full fat sour cream, the fanciest butter you can afford, and fresh chives.  Done right, this is a poem.  And, good on both.

But, what do I know?  As a kid, I put mayo on mine.Thanks for your time.

Merry Thirftmas

When Petey and I had been married a few years, we got our first credit card.When Christmas rolled around I just about melted that miraculous little piece of plastic.  I bought multiple gifts for family, friends, and pretty much anybody I ever met.  I bought enough decorations for our little trailer to light up Time Square.

I spent enough money in the Lillian Vernon catalog to buy Ms. Vernon and family a fairly spacious villa on the French Riviera.

And then in January, something horrible happened.

The bills arrived.Whoops!  I have no defense except youth and inexperience, but I’d completely forgotten the “pay it all back plus interest” portion of the program.

But I eventually paid the bills, and began a long, slow journey to stay out of the poor house by economizing without it pinching too much.  It’s a work in progress, but over the decades, I’ve learned a few things that have helped during the holidays.

Time is money, money can buy a form of time, and reducing stress is priceless.  So maybe hire someone to get your place cleaned and ready for visitors.  Or hire a babysitter so you can take an hour to get a fancy coffee and a manicure.  x shopPool and share talents.  Maybe you love zipping around town on errands, but hate wrapping presents, and your best bud would rather wrap then go to the bank and dry cleaners.  Then you run, and she can deal with paper and ribbon.

What if you enjoy getting into the kitchen to create treats and baked goods, and your next door neighbor would rather be beaten?  Have your friend buy all the ingredients, and you do the cooking for two.  You both win.Make it a homemade holiday.  Every year a good portion of the gifts I give are made by me.  But I’m not talking about macaroni necklaces or unidentifiable papier mache animals.  The creation should be something that the recipient can’t make, can’t afford to buy, or really, really likes the version that you produce.

For the last few years, The Kid and I have worked together to create baskets tailored to the person that will get them.Dog owners get our special pumpkin peanut butter puppy treats.  The more culinarily adventurous get flavored salts.  Gluten-free folks don’t get our cheese straws but get double the buckeyes.  Everybody gets our special hot cocoa mix with homemade marshmallows that come in Christmas mugs which I buy at a thrift store for less than a dollar each. The packing for these gifts is purchased at the dollar store, which, by the way, is terrific for stocking stuffers and small presents.

If you shop online, make sites like Retailmenot.com and Couponcabin.com your friend.  They have links to promotional codes which can save you lots of green.  Another site, Honey, will automatically find and apply discounts when you check out.  So don’t hit enter ‘til you’ve turned over every discount rock you find.There are a couple little-known benefits to shopping online at a merchant who has local brick and mortar locations.  If you can’t score free shipping, lots of companies will ship it to their store for free.  You just have to go pick it up.  If you buy something online, and need to return it, most will let you bring it into their local shop.

Hey, it’s already hectic out there, and soon it’ll ratchet up to an “I’m invisible, and also president of Neptune” level crazy.

So cut yourself a little slack.  And that will make it easier to cut everyone around you some too.Thanks for your time.

Spuds not Duds

The Kid calls them Shearon Harris potatoes.It’s not because they’re grown in the shadow of that nuclear power plant and set off Geiger counters, but because the baking potatoes at Carlie C’s are huge.  Just one of these puppies could make fries for everybody at Woodstock, or enough Vodka to get all of Moscow gloriously snockered, or if hollowed out, become a charming two-story starter home.

A couple times a month I bake two of these colossal tubers for Petey and me for supper. Sometimes I’ll switch it up for myself with their equally monstrous sweet potato.It’s a cheap meal.  For a couple dollars, I can purchase a large amount of hearty comfort food, which we can dress to our own desires.

Nutritionally, you could do a heck of a lot worse.  In one big’un, you’ll get about 90% of your RDA (recommended daily allowance) of vitamin C, around 50% of your potassium, and 30% of both B6 and fiber.  A nice, healthy portion of iron and calcium are also present.  Plus, undressed, they’re fat-, sodium- and cholesterol-free.  And a sweet potato is even more nutrient-dense than its pale associate.But tragically, many folks ruin the dining experience by failing to get the very best out of them.

The addition of fat and seasoning is the threshold of flavor.  But handled well, they can be so much more than not awful.  The starting point for well-baked is insuring they’re baked well.

If you just wrap your tater in foil, they will steam.  This can be tasty, but it is in no way a “baked” potato.First, set the oven to 350 degrees. Then clean them.  I scrub mine under warm running water using only my hands and a drop of dish detergent.  They’re grown underground, so they need to be well-cleaned.  Just make sure every last lick of soap is rinsed away.

Then dry and poke a few shallow holes in them.  You really just need to puncture the skin.  To cut down on mess during cooking, you need some type of drip tray.  Make a very shallow sided, thin vessel with tin foil; just fold and manipulate it until it resembles the lid of a shoe box.  Put your foil boat on a rimless sheet pan, and set in the taters.At this point you want to prepare the skin for the oven, and flavor it.  A little bit of fat will crisp the skin and allow the flavoring component to stick.  Any kind of fat will work, except things like olive, truffle, or toasted sesame oil, because the long bake will impart a bitter taste and unappetizing aroma.

Now dust the potato with a couple teaspoons of a seasoning mixture.  I like coffee salt and freshly cracked pepper, and Petey likes adobo seasoning—really any flavor that makes you happy.  Then massage those herbs/spices all over the outside.

When it’s time to bake, set the sheet pan on the oven rack, then slide it out from under the foil boat and remove.  Bake about 45 minutes, then flip the potatoes over and bake 45 more.  This is usually long enough to cook all but the very largest spuds, so if you’ve got a couple honkers, give ‘em a poke with a paring knife at 90 minutes to make sure they’re cooked through.The plan with this column was to give you some interesting topping ideas for your well-cooked taters.

I think we’re gonna have to cover that in this space next week.

Who would ever have thunk that I could be long-winded?Thanks for your time.

In Defense of Friendliness

Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t talk to strangers.  I heard it from my parents when I was a kid.  Later on I heard it from Petey and The Kid (Don’t they sound like a buddy cop movie, though?  Maybe played by Bob Newhart and Tim Curry).  And I still get it when I’m out—pretty much every time.

But I pay them no mind.

Costco came to our town when The Kid was in elementary school.  The folks there, are to a person, kind and cordial.

Uncle Joe knows what’s up.

Shopping there I quickly became familiar, then friendly with the staff.  Since turnover is low, many of the people that worked there on opening day are still there.  And my child adores each and every employee in the place.  Each visit with The Kid is a series of heys and hugs with numerous adopted aunts and uncles.

A quick run for one or two items never takes less than 30 minutes.  But all of those beloved folks were at one time, complete strangers.  And one should never speak to scary, scary strangers.

Sure.

Our last dog, Riker, was 200-pounds of pure friendliness.  Everyone within a two-mile radius loved him and looked forward to him stopping by.  He was a celebrity, way more popular than anyone else in our family.

Katey_and_Riker 2

The Kid (L) and a young, healthy Riker.

Every policeman, sheriff, school bus driver, mailman, and UPS guy that comes to our neighborhood has selfies with him.

His last illness lasted months, with him getting weaker every day.  Petey and I would put a blanket sling under his belly, and gently carry him outside to lie in the sunshine.  There was a steady stream of human and canine friends coming by to tell their sweet friend goodbye.  When I broke the news of his passing, almost every person cried.  His sweet friendly demeaner endeared him to all those “strangers”.

Every once in a while, my amiable ways can cause things to go a little sideways.One afternoon my mom, a toddler-aged Kid, and I were walking through the parking lot of a local mall to get the car and go home.  Two teenaged guys were working on a car with the hood open.  Having driven my share of less than reliable autos, I felt for them.

Having driven my share of less than reliable autos, I also keep jumper cables in the car.  I asked the young men if they needed a jump, and could I help?

They hadn’t noticed us walking up, so were so startled one of them bumped his head on the hood.  They quickly turned down my offer and walked away.Turns out the pair were attempting some grand theft auto.  My helpful gesture was unappreciated by them, but the rightful owner was pretty grateful for my meddling/helpfulness.

Growing up with a parent in the Coast Guard, our family moved every few years.  We’d land in a completely new city, not knowing a soul.

Once we had unpacked and had some downtime, I would walk around our new neighborhood and reconnoiter.  I’d talk to anybody I saw that was approximately my age.  It’s how I met almost all my friends.  My little brother was a little quiet, so when he was about five or so, I started trolling for kids for him, too.That’s how I met the Murphy’s.  Through them, I met Petey.  So, if I’d stayed home being a good girl, I would never have met the man who was destined (cursed?) to become my spouse, and then there would be no Kid.

So there.

…and I did.

Thanks for your time.

 

The Waste of it All

snake glasses

Here’s some stuff that makes me madder than the near-sighted snake who married a garden hose:

Shoe sales that never have any size 10’s.

Evil incarnate Carmen, who keeps calling about lowering my credit card interest rate.

Those ridiculous choreographed pantomimes that NFL players have started doing after a touchdown.

Waste; opportunities, potential, passion, and worst of all—food.You wanna hear some horrific facts?  40% of the food in the US is never eaten.  It’s thrown away.  That’s around 250 pounds per person per year.  Globally, 4 billion tons of food is wasted each year.  60% of shoppers buy more food than they need.  What’s almost criminal is that fact that they know they’re doing it at the time of purchase.

You may think that the little bit you throw away doesn’t add up to very much.  But the average family of four loses at least $1,500 a year this way.

It’s actually not that hard to reduce the amount of waste each household produces.  It took some time, but wasting food at our house is an infrequent occurrence.

Behold: an anybody else 7438.

The biggest tip I can give you is to stop making more food than you need.  When Petey and were first married, I had no idea how to cook for two.  I was used to cooking for an Italian four, which is an anyone else’s twelve.  I couldn’t understand why that five-pound meatloaf didn’t get eaten up before it got furry.  I had so much refrigerated food that had gone so very bad I’m surprised it didn’t join street gangs and have rumbles in the crisper drawer.If the food doesn’t make good leftovers, you don’t want it hanging around.  If, on the other hand it reheats well, and would make a lunch that you’d actually take to work and eat—go for it.  When you’re cleaning up after that original dinner, portion it out and wrap it for brown bagging.  If you won’t get to it for more than four days, label then freeze it.And your freezer is your best ally in the quest to quell waste.  Don’t throw out old crackers, chips, and bread.  Dump it all into a zip-top bag, throw it in the chill chest, and when you need breadcrumbs, breader or such, take it out, season it according to food and mood, grind it finely in a food processor, then toast it at 300 degrees for 15-20 minutes.  Only make as much as you need, and if it’s touched raw meat, toss it.

 

Have another bag for leftover veggies.  When you have enough, make soup or use it for stuffing peppers, or pork chops, or any other stuff-able stuff.  Freeze extra pancakes, cooked pasta, rice, or potatoes.  Once you have a nice assortment in suspended animation you could make a meal solely from the Frigidaire.If Thanksigving’s at your place, you’re going to have leftovers tomorrow.  The turkey can be used in place of chicken in any dish.  Make tacos, or pot pie, or white chili.  And don’t forget the mandatory sandwich before bed (well, mandatory for me, anyway).

So, think about how you shop, cook, how your family eats, and figure out workable methods to eliminate food waste.

Then next year, instead of losing sleep getting up before dawn and losing your mind in the Black Friday Thunderdome to score a Barbie dream house for 25% off, you’ve saved enough money to pay for all the Christmas gifts, plus shoes for yourself (you’ve earned them). And instead of retail mayhem, you get to sleep.

Thanks for your time.

Why They Didn’t Speak

Hi.                                                                                                                                                     

This week’s column is a departure for me.  It concerns a topic that is in no way a joke.  Because of this, i decided to forgo the humorous photo accompaniment.         

Thanks for your time & attention.                                                                          

There are two different kinds of men.

There is that guy that you’ve been hearing about in the news.  The one who puts his words, or hands, or various other parts where they’re not welcome.  The one who sees women the same way a bear with an itchy back sees a tree trunk—as a useful, convenient device to impart the desired sensation.

A tool; no more, no less.  In their world, these men are the center of the universe, and others are simply bit players to advance his own narrative.  Other people are not really people, they are held in the same regard as his electric razor, laptop, or leaf blower.

And then there is every other man; the vast majority of men.  This is the guy to whom it would never even occur to act in this way.  The guy who instead of excited would feel sickened by the maneuvers of the perpetrators.  The guy who believes what comes out of power is responsibility, not opportunity.

But there’s an unfortunate consequence to this non-predatory mindset.

It’s hard for them to accept that there are men who engage in this activity.  They don’t understand the psychology because they don’t think that way.

This behavior is not about sex.  The point of their twisted game is to provoke feelings of weakness and submission in their prey.  They get a rush from invading the life and poisoning the emotions of someone they consider weaker than themselves.  It’s the proof they require to demonstrate their own superiority.

The method that is very often employed is one that makes it next to impossible to speak out.  It’s a darkly brilliant maneuver that can transform the predator into the victim.  It also explains why the behavior can go unchecked for many, many years.

It’s camouflage.

A body part is touched, or grabbed, or brushed up against.  But in such a manner that can be explained away as an accident.  It was due to a stumble, or the jostling that occurs in a crowd.

A comment or demand (“Smile!”) is voiced.  But on its face, it’s an innocent remark meant as pleasant conversation or sincere admiration.

The person on the receiving end of this subtle violation is no dummy.  Calling out the provocateur will result in two things.  First denial, then accusations of malevolence, greed or insanity.  They did nothing and are now the target of the archetypal crazy woman.  What do you expect from an unbalanced, hysterical female?

Women.  Right?

This slick method has been employed on me.

Years ago, I was sitting in the backseat of a small car with an employee of mine.  A group of my coworkers and I were going out after work.  This guy, normally someone I liked and got along with, brushed his arm across my body.  It was the classic “Oops” tactic.  But we both knew it for what it was.

I calmly told him that I’d consider it an accident, but he only got one.  And, if it ever happened again I would render him capable of singing soprano, but incapable of fathering children.

There was a little half-hearted protest from him, but he never “accidentally” did it again.

The spontaneous decision I made that night about handling the situation worked partly because as his boss I had some power that I was able to reassert.  And, as a normally easy going, nonconfrontational person, he knew I wasn’t joking around.

But it’s very different when it happens to a twenty-year-old intern, and is coming from a boss that holds mighty sway over her life.  It literally becomes the cost of doing business.

So, if you wonder why people don’t speak up, it’s because the perpetrators are really good at this.  Just because nothing is said doesn’t mean nothing has happened.

Thanks for your time.

From Brussels With Love

Like Chef Chrissie said, you can’t really know if you dislike a food until you’ve eaten it prepared by somebody who knows what they’re doing.

In their natural state.

And conversely, you know you really like a food if you enjoy it even if it’s prepared by a dolt.

I can’t remember ever eating a Brussel sprout that I didn’t like.  And I’m including school cafeterias and hospital food.

But why is it that they can be so problematic?  How is it that you can take a perfectly innocent vegetable and overcook it literally into a weapon of mass destruction?

Cut the sprouts some slack.  It’s not their fault.  They come from a bad family.

You go on with your bad self, Mr. Wizard.

Brussel sprouts are among a group of veggies like broccoli, horseradish, and mustard that contain something called glucosinolate sinigrin, an organic compound that contains sulfur.  That is why you can smell the rotting cabbage left in the field after harvest, even when it’s a couple miles away.  It’s also why when someone in an apartment building overcooks broccoli, the whole floor knows about it. It’s also partially responsible for a little something called mustard gas.

But Brussel sprouts are full of really healthful things like vitamins C, K, and B, folic acid, dietary minerals, and fiber.  They contain phytochemicals as well, which may have anti-cancer properties.

Sprouts are super versatile.  They’re even good raw.

Shredded Brussel Sprout Saladshaved br sprouts1-pound sprouts, cleaned and sliced extremely thinly

¾ cup toasted pecan halves

½ cup dried cherries

¼ cup green onions, sliced very thin on the bias (optional)

5 slices bacon, cooked crisp, bacon fat reserved

Dressing:

br sprout dressing

Fat from cooking bacon

Juice of 1 large lemon

1-2 tablespoons honey

2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

Salt & pepper to taste

Whisk together dressing ingredients, then refrigerate for at least one hour.

Toss all slaw ingredients except bacon.  Mix in dressing a very little bit at a time (You want it a little dry because the sprouts will leach out water as it sits.Refrigerate for 2 hours up to overnight.  When ready to serve, sprinkle crumbled bacon on top of each serving.  Serves 6-8.

When cooking them, you usually need to blanch and shock the sprouts.  Get a big pot of heavily salted water up to a rolling boil.  Put your cleaned veg into the water and cook on high until they are a bright green (3-5 minutes).  While they’re blanching, fill a large bowl with cold water, lots of ice, and 2-3 tablespoons of salt.

Using a slotted spoon, place the now blanched sprouts into the ice water and let them soak there until they are completely cool (this is called shocking).  Drain, then use them for any cooked preparation.  I have recently found a recipe that I am loving.

Drunken caramelized Brussels sproutsdrunken sprouts

1 pound cleaned and blanched sprouts

½ cup dry white wine

3 tablespoons butter

Salt & pepper

Throw all the ingredients into a large skillet.  Cover, and cook on medium-high until sprouts are barely tender.  Uncover and cook, turning frequently until wine has cooked off, and each sprout has a couple chocolate brown sear marks (about 7 minutes or so).  Watch carefully so they don’t burn.  Serves 4-6.  Once you clean and blanch your sprouts, you can finish them in any manner that tickles your fancy.

But I strongly suggest that you don’t steam them and cover in hollandaise.  I had a craving when I was pregnant and was sick for a week.  I swear, at the end, I was revisiting food I had eaten in kindergarten.Just don’t do it.

Thanks for your time.

Dog Years

I’m a sucker for a puppy (and all dogs are puppies—always, no matter their age or size).

I’ve had dogs almost my whole life, and every dog has taught me something; even if the lesson was that I needed to be a better pet owner.

When I was in kindergarten, my parents bought me a beagle puppy.  Since my maiden name is Ross, we thought it smart and witty to name her “Betsy”.  I learned two things from the very short time I spent with Betsy.It’s not just a good idea, it’s vital to do some research on dogs in general, and specifically, the breed in which you’re interested.  My family had no idea that in addition to being more energetic than a bus full of sugared-up cheerleaders, they’re hounds, which means they’re loud.  Really loud.  Like, bloodhound loud.

The other thing I learned; it’s kinda important to know if someone in the family is allergic to pet dander.  I was, and it, along with chocolate, threw me into an asthma attack.  I outgrew it by the time I was about seven or eight.

Sorry, not this Snoopy.

After Betsy, we had Snoopy.

One day, Snoopy got out and a neighbor found him and delivered him to our front door.  I learned that there is no angry quite like the angry that a woman can feel when they’ve just had their hair done, and on one end of a leash with a very strong dog on the other end.  To this day I still don’t understand why she didn’t let go when our dog took off through a backyard with a bad septic tank.Honest, she showed up, dripping in malodorous “mud”, hair completely ruined, and thermonuclear danger in her eye.

“Here’s your dog.”

She never spoke another word to anyone in our family.

The lesson?  Sometimes it’s better to just let go of the leash.

In Puerto Rico, we got Fluffy.Fluffy was the one that taught me that a dog can be your very best friend, full of constant, unconditional love.  The two of us used to sit on the curb in front of our house and share Charm’s lollipops.  We’d take turns, lick for lick.

Hey, I didn’t say I was bright, I just said I loved my dog.

After Petey and I married, we were in a mall in Virginia, and in a pet store, saw a chow puppy that had grown so big, he couldn’t sit upright in the largest crate the store had.  There was no way we would be able to look each other in the eye if we left that poor guy in that situation.

That’s how we got Harry.

This isn’t Harry but looks like him.  I was never able to get a pic of our boy because he was afraid of cameras, and the clicking sound they made, and me with my face hidden by a camera…

We’re pretty sure Harry’s mother drank heavily when she was pregnant—Harry wasn’t quite right.  He hid under our bed for the first three days we had him, and continued to fear most of the world.  But he loved us, we loved him, and he had a good life.

Harry’s lesson was that love and patience can change lives and work wonders.

snuggy-buggy-riker

Our Riker.  A 200-pound heart in a dog suit.

Last January, we were heartbroken from the loss of our last baby, Riker.  It was then that I learned one of the most important lessons yet.

I learned that just like falling in love, somehow, the right dog comes along at the right time; when we met a goofy, adorable black akita puppy.  The night we brought him home, I carried the thirty-five pounder.  We named him Crowley, from a favorite book; Good Omens.

Last week our now ninety-five-pound baby turned one.  He fills our home with joy, and dog hair and drool.

But mostly joy.

Crowley before and after

Left is the day after we got Crowley, right is yesterday.  The thing he’s chewing in the new photo is the empty, decapitated head of the bunny in the old pic.  The blue woven rug is the exact same, and it’s the same size.

Thanks for your time.

 

Cake Calculus

It’s a classic cost/benefit thing.Anything can be evaluated this way.

The Kid and I were shopping for a couch for my child’s pad and discovered this horrific collection of bedroom furniture.

This isn’t the exact set, but I think photographing the original might have been a war crime.

It was a nightmare of white laminate, gilding, and mirrors.  It had cup holders, and recessed lighting, and mysterious switches, knobs and buttons.  It was so insanely over-the-top that the proprietor of a house of ill repute would veto it due to extreme, borderline-criminal tackiness.

This isn’t the set either, but I will see this in my nightmares, and now so will you.

The price tag for this violent assault on both furniture design and good taste?

Oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of $13,000.

Cost/benefit analysis?  They’d have to pay me a heck of a lot more dough to persuade me to let that mess through my front door.  And more still to keep it.

So, there’s this pound cake.  It takes time to prepare.  If it’s beaten too long, it’ll overflow the pan.  It’s easy to undercook.

how to get cake out of bundt pan

Not an actual brown sugar pound cake, but a tragic scene nonetheless.

And worst of all, there is the ever-present, ominous possibility that it might stick to the pan, and come out in chunks (happily though, the smaller Bundts almost never stick).

But.

But.

I promise, stuck and broken, or perfect and gorgeous, this’ll be the best pound cake you’ve ever eaten.I’ll tell you how good this cake is.  Not only does it not have frosting or a glaze, it doesn’t even need it.  I’ve never said that about any other cake in the history of cakes.

The inside is moist, delicious, and studded with toasted pecans.  The crust is both chewy and crispy.   It’s transcendent, confectionary magic.

Just make it once.  Like all great art, you’ll find yourself thinking about it long after the last slice has been eaten.

Brown Sugar Pound Cakebrown sugar pound cake3¼ cups + 2 tablespoons cake flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1½ cups butter, softened

1-1lb box light brown sugar

1 cup granulated sugar

5 large eggs, room temp

¾ cup whole milk

¼ cup golden rum

1 tablespoon vanilla

1 cup roasted pecan piecesbundtsPreheat oven to 325F.  Thoroughly grease and flour heavy 12 cup Bundt pan, or a mini Bundt pan, then spray with oil/flour cooking spray, covering the entire inside surface.

Sift together flour, baking powder, and salt.  Set aside.

Beat butter in mixing bowl until light (about 3 minutes). Gradually add sugars and beat until light and fluffy. Beat in eggs one at a time until fully incorporated.  Don’t overbeat or your cake will have too much air, and overflow pan. 

Mix milk, rum, and vanilla.  Add to batter alternately with dry ingredients, beginning and ending with dry ingredients (3 additions of dry and 2 of milk mix). Off mixer, fold in nuts.  Pour into pan.

Bake 1 hour 45 minutes to 2 hours just until toothpick inserted into center comes out clean.  Just remember, minis cook much quicker, so watch ’em.

Cool in pan 20 minutes, then turn out onto cooling rack to finish cooling.  The warmer the cake is when turned out, the crispier and chewier the crust will be.

When completely cooled, wrap well and store overnight (don’t refrigerate) before serving.  Makes 12-16 slices.

Kristen Benkendorfer (left), and baker Shawn Collier

I recently spent some time at Big Bundts and More in Durham.  Owner Kristen Benkendorfer has made thousands of Bundts.  I asked her about the heartbreaking tendency of a Bundt sticking.  She gave me the double-grease-flour procedure.  But, she said that sometimes, no matter what you do, the cake will stick, and even break into chunks.

You just need to ask yourself if the cake is worth the stress, the worry, and the possibility of tragic, yet delicious failure?

Is Enterprise the most disappointing Star Trek series?(The answer is yes.)

Thanks for your time.