October 17, 2007

Looks Like I Won

Bill and I joke that when we got married he gave up big-titty women and I gave up long-haired men.  His girlfriend before me was a lacrosse playing, Cuban, large-breasted classical pianist, and hell if I know what order to put all those adjectives in to reflect their importance to Bill, but I bet the tits were near the top.

He didn’t get those when he married me.  I’ve even posted a picture of my pancake/Tootsie Roll breasts on this very site.

All marriages involve compromise, though, and I gladly live with a man who not only has short hair, but who also expresses his love for me by scraping his long toenails against my calf in bed at night, although he knows the maneuver skeeves me out.

Bill has long been meaning to make my long-haired dreams come true.

After an inspired stop at Party City, an Adonis entered my room.

I am truly the luckiest girl alive.

October 14, 2007

Only In Alabama?

I dare you to find anything in YOUR hometown that fulfills such a special need. 

Figure 1: Side View: Is this what I think it is?

You have got to be kidding.  But hooray!  I was in the mood to wet a pole.

I love some wigglers, but  I’m in the mood for catfish.

Score!!

Get the frying pan ready - we’re about to have us a meal!

Keep your eyes open for crazy cultural inventions.  I’d love to see the pictures!

Two years ago in Tales From My Tiny Kingdom: Don’t you (Forget About Me)

October 11, 2007

Sappy But Happy

In the days of Disco Break and Saturday Night Fever, it felt like our parents partied all the time. Every weekend my sisters and I would watch Hee-Haw or The Love Boat while my mom put on a chiffon skirt and purple sequin halter top and my dad shaved and dabbed on Aqua-Velva. Then the tottering blue-haired babysitter would arrive, and my parents would be off. For a while they went to The Tango, a disco at the top of a new building near Joy Young’s, the Chinese restaurant.

(That building is now the office where Bill and I work. Sometimes when I get off the elevator I see a disco ball and hear “I Will Survive” but that’s just my mind playing tricks on me.)

Other nights my parents would host grownup parties. My mom would fix Sausage Pinwheels, and olives embedded in a bisquick batter and baked, and my favorite fancy appetizer, water chestnuts rolled in bacon, secured with a toothpick and run under the broiler. The Glamores come by their bacon addiction honestly. We’d get to eat a couple before we were banished upstairs for the remainder of the night.

My mom would set out ashtrays throughout the house, and my dad got the bar ready. Everyone drank hard liquor, and I was most fascinated by the Mai-Tai’s, which they created by mixing a white powder with rum and ice and adding a maraschino cherry. When my mom wasn’t around Aunt Su and I would steal a packet of Mai-Tai mix and suck the sour, fruity powder off our fingers.

My parents went on vacations several times a year without us as well. My dad would take my mom along on medical convention trips, or vacations with other couples, and we’d stay home with the maid, Ozella.

The way we raise our children is very different.

I was thinking about all this a couple of days ago. Porter and Drew have guitar lessons in a building across from the football field where the grade-schoolers play their games during the week. In the break between their lessons, I walk up and down the sidelines and chat with my friends watching their players.

Inevitably, someone will say to me, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

And I say, “Well, unless you’ve been at Publix, riding in my van, or sitting on the counter in my kitchen, I’d be hard to find.”

And so a friend and I started talking about where we have been, and the answer is that we’ve been hanging out with our kids.

What I’m talking about is very different from helicopter parenting. We’re not letting the boys call the shots; in fact, we’ve told them there will be no winter sports so we can have more time together during the week as a family and go visit Bill’s parents in Auburn on the weekends.

Our decision has been driven by the realization that now that the boys are 9,9 and almost 12, they are enormously entertaining people to spend time with. Our adventures in New York and Portugal have been extreme examples. (Drew is still trying to order barnacles at every restaurant we’ve been to since the trip, with no luck.) Steaming mussels in wine with garlic and onions was equally exciting last night.

I’m sure that the Doorknob/Safety game will be the talk of rehearsal dinners to come. My Lord, I’m talking about weddings now. Cue Seasons in the Sun stat!

But you see, the Finn, Porter and Drew of yesterday are hard to remember. People say time flies but when you look at pictures like this

Finn, pissed

Porter, tied

Drew, contained

and compare them to this

Finn, chilling

Porter, Swiffering

Drew, goofy

college and the empty nest don’t seem far off.

My medical history and the sudden loss of my mom might have contributed to our family’s carpe diem philosophy, but I don’t think they’re solely responsible. As I look around, I see more of our friends doing the same– families gathering with kids to watch the football game and cook out or head to the lake. The family hibernation phenomenon seems to me to be a generational trend, with families with similar interests (and styles of discipline) forming social communes to head to the BMX track or Peru.

So what do you think– is it generational? Do you see this happening where you live? What do you do with your family and friends?

Two Years Ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Tub Talk

October 9, 2007

Food, Glorious Food

Last time I posted a week’s worth of easy, family-friendly recipes, the post was so popular you’d have thought I had pictures of a shirtless Brad Pitt on here.

So again, I have several meals that we would eat in the course of a week. The idea is to use Sunday afternoon to plan out what you’re going to eat each night, and make one big shopping run that day. If you’re really on the ball, you can make Sunday and Monday’s meal on Sunday, or do some prep work for other meals, and you’ll really feel good about yourself if you’re an anal-retentive gourmet like me.

(Full disclosure: I generally do have to run back to the store for more milk and fruit in the middle of the week, but at least I’m not killing myself thinking up something to feed everyone.)

I have four new recipes this week, or you can look at the recipes from last time and see if anything looks good.

1. Oven Fried Catfish

I haven’t posted any seafood recipes yet, and we eat a lot of seafood. My guys love this, and it’s simple to make, although you should take off your jewelry before you dip the fish so your rings don’t get gooey. If your children are weird about fish (one of mine was for a while) you can call this “chicken that swims.”

1 cup buttermilk
4 (6-ounce) catfish fillets (I use 5)
2 1/2 teaspoons Creole seasoning (I use Zatarain’s, found in the spice section)
1/2 teaspoon salt
3 cups cornflakes cereal, crushed (Cuisinart)
Vegetable cooking spray

Place buttermilk in a large zip-top plastic freezer bag;
add catfish, turning to coat. Seal and chill 20
minutes, turning once.

Remove
catfish fillets from buttermilk, discarding buttermilk. Sprinkle
catfish fillets evenly with 2 1/2 teaspoons Creole seasoning
and 1/2 teaspoon salt. (I sprinkle mine much more liberally with salt and Creole seasoning because we like spicy!)

Place 3 cups crushed cornflakes in a shallow dish. Dredge catfish fillets in cornflakes, pressing cornflakes gently onto each fillet. Place fillets on a rack coated with cooking spray in a roasting pan.

Bake catfish fillets at 425° for 30 to 35 minutes or until fish flakes with a fork.

No kidding, it tastes like chicken! Serve with a salad or some broccoli sauteed with garlic and potatoes au gratin out of a box. Score!!

2.Chicken Fricassee with Orzo

Everyone loves this. The dish might even be healthy if you stick to the amounts listed because I think I got this from Cooking Light years ago. Of course, the sauce is better if you add a touch more cream and melt a little butter in it before serving, and don’t skimp on the salt and pepper! I always forget the parsley and no one has died yet. (If you like to brine your meat before cooking, this is a great recipe to do it with.)

(4-ounce) skinned, boned chicken breast halves

1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
2 teaspoons butter or stick margarine
3/4 cup chopped green onions
1/2 cup diced carrot
1/2 cup diced ham
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup Chardonnay or other dry white wine
1/3 cup whipping cream
3 cups hot cooked orzo (about 1 1/2 cups uncooked rice-shaped pasta)
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

Sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper. Melt butter in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken; cook 3 minutes on each side or until browned. Remove chicken from pan.

Add onions, carrot, ham, and garlic to pan; sauté 4 minutes or until lightly browned. Stir in broth and wine, scraping to loosen browned bits. Return chicken to pan; bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 10 minutes or until chicken is done. Remove chicken from pan with a slotted spoon; keep warm. Add whipping cream; cook, uncovered, over medium heat 8 minutes. Spoon 3/4 cup orzo onto each of 4 plates. Top each with 1 chicken breast half, 1/3 cup sauce, and 1 tablespoon parsley.

(I generally cut the breasts into strips on the diagonal before setting them on the orzo, and 3 big breasts will usually feed our famished family of five.)

3. Fettucini With Roasted Red Bell Peppers and Bacon

I haven’t worked on this recipe project long, but I’ve discovered that our family eats the equivalent of a whole pig approximately every two weeks. I looked into buying a couple of hogs as a cost-saving measure, but all I found on eBay were a bunch of Harleys. Too bad, because with milk at over $4 a gallon and the grass in our yard sadly unmown, a dairy cow and some pigs would be nice additions to Bingo 3 (thriving, surprisingly), Texas Ranger (still won’t perch on Drew’s shoulder while he reads Harry Potter) and Elvis (still From Hell).

Here piggy! Nice yard for YOU!

I’m Texas Ranger. Don’t screw with me.

I am evil spawn of Satan, in disconcertingly precious furry package.

The fettucini recipe will be yet another setback for kosher readers, unless turkey bacon is acceptable. This would also be good with prosciutto or pancetta instead of the bacon, not as a kosher alternative, but as good eating.

Actually, this recipe proves the point that you can mix bacon and pasta with just about anything and call it dinner. This dish is nothing more than Bowties with Peas and Prosciutto in a tuxedo.

1 bottle roasted red peppers, drained (located by the olives)
2 slices of bacon, chopped (kidding! we use 5)
1 sliced onion
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 cup frozen peas, thawed
1/4 cup chicken broth
8 oz of cooked fettucini
2 T grated Paremesan
salt & pepper

Cut the peppers into strips. Cook the bacon in a big skillet until crisp. (Okay– I do drain all but a little of the grease here– I have limits). Add onion and garlic and saute a minute. Add peppers, peas and broth and simmer a minute. Stir in pasta, cheese, salt and pepper. I add a little bit more of everything and use almost 16 oz of pasta for our family. You’re gonna want more Parmesan!

4. Jack-O’-Lantern Pie

I am not proud of this recipe
at ALL from a culinary standpoint. But when it’s October, the Voice of Reason and I haul out this
little gem to prove we aren’t complete grinches. I cook it solely for the boys to make up for the fact that I didn’t sit on the floor and play Candyland with them nearly enough when they were small. This isn’t the type of dish you make to impress your husband; this is something you make to cure mommy-guilt. When dinner’s over, you eat the leftover Chicken Fricassee from yesterday for your dinner.

I included all the decorating instructions about the egg whites and sticking the cheese in the eye holes and so forth, but unless your kids are really charged up about helping you, the pie crust is going to be orange-ish anyway, so I forget the part about the egg, and I just throw the cheese on top of the meat before I put the top crust on.

1 pound ground beef

1 medium onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, pressed
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/4 cup ketchup
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (I use tons more)
1 (15-ounce) package refrigerated piecrusts
1 tablespoon prepared mustard (I take this to mean French’s)
3 cups (12 ounces) shredded Monterey Jack cheese, divided (Any ole cheese will do)
2 tablespoons water
1 large egg
Red and yellow liquid food coloring

Cook first 5 ingredients in a large skillet over medium-high heat, stirring until beef crumbles and is no longer pink; drain. Stir in ketchup and Worcestershire sauce; cool.

Unfold 1 piecrust, and place on a lightly greased baking sheet. Spread mustard evenly over crust. (Leave a 2 inch border) Stir together meat mixture and 2 cups cheese; spoon onto center of crust, leaving a 2-inch border.

Unfold remaining piecrust, and cut out a jack-o’-lantern face, reserving pastry cutouts to use as a stem. Place crust over meat mixture; crimp edges of crust, and fold under. Place stem on top of jack-o’-lantern face.

Whisk together 2 tablespoons water, egg, and 1 drop each of red and yellow food coloring; brush over crust if you have time for this step.

Bake at 425° for 20 minutes; remove from oven, and serve, (OR and brush again with egg mixture. Fill eyes, nose, and mouth with remaining 1 cup cheese. Bake 5 to 10 more minutes or until golden brown.)

Jack O’ Lantern Pie ready to bake

Jack O’ Lantern Pie developed blemishes while in oven.

And for dessert? Cheesecake!

I’m posting this as part of Works For Me Wednesday over at Rocks in my Dryer. Go check out the other great tips there!

Two years ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Stinkers

October 8, 2007

Beyonce And I Fail Division

I avoid math as much as possible, but when there’s arithmetic to be done I have a calculator handy. Surprisingly, they still teach 6th grade math as if all calculators will spontaneously combust in 2015, which is why Finn is learning the tedious process of dividing complicated numbers by other complicated numbers.

There are infinite combinations of complications that I shudder to contemplate, for I’m sure they await Finn (and thus me) in the future. Dividing one fraction into another! Dividing a square root by an integer! Dividing percents! Dividing a negative number by another negative number, as if that ever happens in real life!

You notice I haven’t even reached the part where you start solving for X.

Finn needed help with his homework the other night, and Bill, the default, was out. I dispatched Finn to the shower so I would have plenty of time to work out the kinks in my teaching method.

The topic du jour was dividing decimals:

I knew exactly what to do as a first step; I rewrote the equation into proper division form:

I pondered this for a few minutes but the decimals were in my way, so I proceeded to the logical next step: a frantic call to the Voice of Reason. She majored in Economics and I’ve been calling her about issues raging from mathematical to culinary for more than twenty years.

“Have y’all already covered dividing a decimal number by another decimal number?” I asked.

“That’s what I was bitching about in Jazzercise last week,” The Voice said. “It’s a pain in the ass. Don’t tell me you’re helping Finn with math homework. Where’s Bill?”

It’s reassuring to have someone know you so well that she can instantly tell your husband is missing based on a phone call about homework.

“He’s in a deposition that’s running late. And I’m not completely incompetent in math, although this is really stretching my brain,” I said. “I remember something about flipping fractions over to divide them, so I was thinking dividing decimals would be a snap because there’s no gymnastics.”

“That’s true, you don’t have to flip anything,” The Voice said.

“Okay, so I have the big number in the hut and the smaller number outside the hut, but they both have decimals. Don’t I move them somewhere?”

“Yes, wait…” I listened as The Voice shuffled a piece of paper around and drew on it.

“You move the decimals over to the east as far as they will go, and then you solve the problem like you normally would,” she said.

“The east like the right?”

“Yes,”she said.

“Well, that stinks. Because if you moved them the other way, we could teach it by singing it like the Beyonce song: ‘To the left, to the left, pick up the dot and move it to the left,’” I sang.

“Yeah, that’s a big bummer,” The Voice agreed drily. “Now that you’ve moved the dot over, you just divide the numbers out the way you normally would, and then you put the dot– I mean the decimal– God, you’ve got me saying it too, back in place.”

So I moved the decimals to the east:

but I stuck a dot on the roof of the hut so I’d have some idea where the decimal would be returned at the end of the procedure.

I heard the shower shut off. Finn would be coming soon, so I had to be ready to teach.

I reviewed my notes and started working the problem out by hand. It was arduous, what with all the multiplying and carrying (which I still do on my fingers) and subtracting, so I got my calculator out and figured out that the answer would be
13.351408450704225352112676056338.

That was a hell of a number to contemplate sober. Solving it without technology would take all night and several sheets of paper even before I starting instructing Finn.

Worse, this answer didn’t exactly match the work I’d already done; I was sweating and I had come up with 1.335 so far. Clearly The Voice and I had a miscommunication as to where the decimal was going when it went back into the equation.

I poured a glass of wine and went back to the problem, this time ignoring the decimals entirely, and that’s how I ended up telling Finn to do it, too, for lack of a better option.

We came up with 133514 and then Finn and I had to figure out how to put the decimal in the right spot in the answer.

We ended up using the “sort of” method which they actually teach in third grade, only they call it “guesstimation.” Finn and I decided that 42.7 was sort of like 40, and 568.77 was sort of like 570, so the answer should be sort of like 13ish.

It worked for us, and I went to bed happy, since I knew we’d gotten the problem right.

Except we hadn’t. Finn came home the next afternoon and said we’d gotten points off for failing to follow directions. I looked down guiltily, wondering how my calculator use had been discovered. I’d been careful to put the calculator away before Finn ever came in the room.

It turned out that the instructions said to round to the nearest tenth, so our exuberant answer of 13.3514 looked downright suspect.

Ahh, well. Tis better to have divided well than never to have divided at all, I suppose.

A year ago in My Tiny Kingdom: Crime & Punishment