Confessions

I hear tell confession is good for the soul. Let's see.

I'm going to confess ten things that, if mentioned beyond the confines of this blog, would either result in some adverse consequence, cause one to scrunch their nose in disgust, or just in general embarrass the hell out of me. Here goes:

1. I wear flip-flops to work, even though my employee handbook states that "open-toed sandals and flip-flops/thongs are not appropriate office attire."

2. I had the biggest crush on my high school chemistry teacher. I would sit in his class and daydream about making out with him amid the beakers and sulfates.

3. I do not like when my husband makes ribs. They are just tough and gross.

4. I used to pick my nose, a lot.

5. When I was twenty-two, I found a purse. I kept an unopened tube of Merle Norman lipstick and the $7 that was in it, then threw the purse in a large commercial dumpster.

6. I think Jon Stewart is so sexy.

7. I used to work at the local burger joint when I was in high school, and one time I dropped an entire bag of buns onto the dirty, greasy floor. I just dusted them off and put them back up on rack.

8. I can't stand some of my ghetto in-laws.

9. I'm intimidated by people from India. I think they smell bad and have horrible accents when they speak English.

10. I love the movie Twister. I could watch it over and over.

Recipe of the Week; BAKED POTATO SALAD

We've all made potato salad- that boring, strange-textured lumpy stuff that seems to appear at every picnic or pool-side gathering in the summer.

Standard potato salad is pretty boring to me. Everyone I know seems to have their own special way of making it, but rarely have I come across your basic mayonnaise-based potato salad that's worth a second helping. Until recently, that is.

It started with my son's post-football practice picnic. Traditionally, the parent-run football organization hosts a picnic for all of the families after the first full week of practice. All families are assigned a certain type of food to bring. TJ's team was assigned "cold salads". Which means anything from anti-pasta's to potato to those funky jello-mold things with suspended canned fruits that I refuse to eat.

My philosophy is to never serve anyone a new recipe or concoct one on my own without trying it out at home first. This is especially important if you're making a dish for people you don't know that well. Well, I threw caution to the wind and whipped up something new, and it turned out to be pretty darned good.

And after scouring the rows and rows of potato salads at the end of the picnic, I'm pleased to say my big Pyrex bowl was the only one completely empty. That must mean something...



3 pounds red potatoes, skin on and scrubbed
olive oil
5 to 6 slices bacon, preferably peppered
1/2 cup diced red onion
3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons apple-cider vinegar
1/2 to 3/4 package dry Ranch dressing mix
1/4 teaspoon Cajun or Old Bay seasoning
kosher salt, to taste
fresh ground pepper, to taste
1 1/2 stalks celery with tops, sliced thin
3 hard boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
fresh parsley or extra celery tops, minced for garnish

Preheat oven to 475 degrees. Rub the cleaned potatoes lightly with olive oil. Bake until cooked, but firm, approximate 30-45 minutes depending on the size of the potatoes. Potatoes are ready when they are easily pierced with a fork, or have a little give when squeezed on the sides. Set aside and allow to cool.

Slice the bacon into 1-inch pieces. Fry until crispy, drain on paper towels and set aside.  In a small mixing bowl, whisk mayonnaise and vinegar. Add the dry Ranch dressing, seasoning blend, a little salt and pepper. I recommend adding the Ranch, seasoning and salt a little at a time and taste until desired flavor is reached. The dressing can be salty if too much of the seasonings are added.

Cut the potatoes into cubes. I like to go a little large on my cubes, to avoid the potatoes totally mushing up during the mixing process. Add the onion, celery, bacon and eggs. Carefully fold in the dressing, mix well to ensure even coating.

Refrigerate several hours or overnight before serving. Sprinkle minced parsley/celery tops then a little fresh Cajun or Old Bay seasoning (for color) right before serving.

A Weekend in the Country

Meanwhile, out on the farm...


Grandma's garden is producing mounds of vegetables and herbs already. It always amazes me this time of year, when a visit to her house nets me a basketful of goodies.

Tomatoes and
cabbages and
Beans- OH MY!

So was the case this past weekend, when TJ and I (and Reese) relaxed in the country. Grandma even treated us to a delicious dinner of venison stew (Dennis stew, TJ called it. Which is quite funny because Moms husband's name is Dennis). She assured us there was no pieces of Dennis stirred into that pot.

We watched the Amish gathering hay, secretly snapping a picture or two when we thought they couldn't see.

Recipe of the Week; REFRESHING MINT JULEPS

...You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning 'round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You go to my head

Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew

And I find the very mention of you

Like the kicker in a Julep or two...

My intention was to post this recipe yesterday. But if you've muddled through my gripes, you're all too aware that yesterday was not a good day for languorously sipping Juleps on the front porch.

I started to think about Mint Juleps over the weekend. During the drive to the country for my visit with Mom (and the intention of raiding her garden for MINT), Billie Holiday's song blared through the stereo, and a kicker in a Julep or two sounded like a good idea.

I've never made a Julep, nor have I had the pleasure of enjoying one. The thought of Juleps puts me in the mindset of the antebellum South, hoop-skirt and all. Or at Church Hill Downs, obnoxious hat in lieu of a hoop-skirt.

At any rate, I think it's fair to say this drink is likely Southern in origin. Being the Yankee that I am, I know Julep's aren't so much a common cocktail around here as, let's say- uh, beer.

So, dust of those antique silver goblets. I'm including the original Kentucky Derby recipe using Early Times (serves 1) and a method using Jim Beam (serves 8), which I think I'm more partial to. Enjoy... just please do so responsibly!

Early Times Mint Julep, official beverage of the Kentucky Derby

2 fluid oz. Early Times Kentucky whiskey
1 tablespoon simple syrup
mint sprigs
crushed ice

Simple Syrup:

1 cup water, 1 cup of granulated sugar and 1 bunch fresh mint sprigsCrush a few mint leaves in the bottom on an 8-oz. (Collins) glass.* Fill with crushed ice. Add one tablespoon of simple syrup and one tablespoon of water. Add 2 oz. of Early Times. Stir gently until glass frosts. Garnish with a fresh mint sprig.

To make simple syrup: Combine sugar and water. Boil for 5 minutes without stirring. Pour mix over a handful of mint leaves, and gently crush the mint with a spoon. Refrigerate overnight in a closed jar. Remove mint leaves, but continue to refrigerate. Stays fresh for several weeks.

*Juleps are known to be served in frosted silver goblets as well. Freeze ahead of time, and handle edges with a towel while preparing to preserve the frosty appearance.

Jim Beam Kentucky Bourbon Mint Juleps

2 cups water, 2 cups white sugar
1/2 cup roughly chopped fresh mint
32 fluid oz. bourbon
8 sprigs fresh mint leaves for garnish

Combine water, sugar and chopped mint leaves in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat until the sugar is completely dissolved. Allow syrup to cool, approximately 1 hour. Pour syrup through a strainer to remove mint leaves.

Fill eight glasses or frozen goblets with crushed ice and pour 4 oz. of bourbon and 1/4 cup mint syrup in each. Proportions can be adjusted depending on the level of sweetness you prefer. Top each cup with a mint sprig and a straw. Trim straws so that they barely protrude from the top of the cups. Serve Juleps on a silver platter.

Monday Morning Blues

My morning started out just fine. TJ was up and out of bed with little trouble, happily eating his breakfast cereal and dreaming about Christmas. (Already.)

I managed to be out the door on time, enjoying the fresh and warm morning air. Mondays are always a struggle, typically I'm exhausted from cramming everything possible into a two-day weekend. But spending a weekend in the country visiting my Mom seemed to relax me, and I felt refreshed and ready to tackle the oncoming week and high temperatures that are certain to accompany it.

Even Quinn and Rose on the radio couldn't dampen my spirits, America's troubles be damned I say. (I'm done caring about a country that doesn't care about it's future.) Everything seemed to be sunshine and daisies, considering it's a Monday morning, until I unlock my office door and try to settle in for the day ahead. First I get a visit from possibly the most annoying woman on the planet. Let's just call her "Betty".

"Betty" is a lonely old woman, with no family close by and no real friends. She has a very sick husband in a care center she rarely visits, and a nasty cat who pees everywhere. She alone is immune to the putrid cat odors that abound in her sad little apartment. She watches more QVC than anyone I've ever known. Everything in poor "Betty's" life is serious drama. It's her personal responsibility to march into my office, pretty much daily, and especially on Mondays to tell me a lot of useless information about her neighbors, the town, our country and so on. I wish she would turn off her TV and take a walk once in awhile.

Needless to say, "Betty" came in my office as usual, gripped about everything that I could care less about, (my God- however will she pay her rent if they don't pay Social Security this month?) and really just started to irritate me. Go visit your husband... it took all I had to keep from screaming this at her.

While she was in my office destroying my fairly good mood with each passing minute, my phone rings with and even more annoying resident calling. I'll just call her "Miss Tonya". Now, "Miss Tonya", is the reason some white folks form black stereotypes. I'm talking wig-wearing, ghetto slang using, "I'm entitled to everything because I'm black and I'm poor and it's whitey's fault" mentality. Now "Miss Tonya" didn't have a serious problem this morning, however at the present moment I'm unable to fix a non-working bathroom vent due to situations beyond my control, and all of the sudden it's so unfair. And she has breathing problems. And it's ridiculous. And I should really just go out of my way, ignore my superiors and do as she asks without delay. And naturally, if I don't, then I hate black people. Really.

So with that being said, what started off as an unusually pleasant Monday morning has turned into a depressing, sad, and frustrating start to the week. Which brings me to exactly what I'm thinking at this very moment.

While I like certain aspects of this job, I'm starting to find it very mundane and unfulfilling. I like that I have a job that allows me certain flexibilities and pays well. In reality, it's the kind of job that most would love to have, and for that I am thankful.

But coming into this office in on a daily basis is soul-sucking. I'm surrounded by people who are so needy, so desperate, so stupid, and yet I'm supposed to feel sorry for them? They are the cesspool of society, the shit in the sewers that those that carry this country on our backs are forced to house and feed, and at the same time pity because they've been dealt such and unfortunate hand in life. See what I mean? Any ounce of humanity I once had has long been lost. And as a Christian, I'm sorry to say I don't even feel these people are worthy of my prayers.

Now that I've vented, I'm staring to come out of this rotten mood. I think I'll go shopping during lunch, that seems to help.

So, Happy Monday to you. Hope your week has started out better than mine.

Recipe of the Week; BAKED TILAPIA

I'll cut right to the chase. I adore Leah Chase. Truly one of America's culinary heroes. An inspiration for many a Creole dinner in my house.

Years ago, I came across a recipe of hers for baked fish. It was actually trout, I believe. Through the many moves and sorting out of old cookbooks and recipe snippets, the recipe has gotten lost. I've searched for it online, and still it eludes my finding. One of these days I'll have to break down and buy her cookbook to reclaim this delicious recipe.

In the meantime, I've somewhat invented my own version, except I use tilapia. I always seem to have it on hand, and it works out OK. It's not nearly as rich and grand as Leah's, but cutting back on the mayonnaise (yes this fish is coated with Mayo!) is necessary for me, primarily because my husband is not so much of a fan of it. I could eat it with a spoon (and do upon occasion). Her recipe also included fresh artichokes. Personally, I think they're a lot of work with little reward, so I just pick up a jar of marinated ones. The marinade adds an extra level of twang as well.

INGREDIENTS

approximately 2 lbs. tilapia fillets, or trout (skin on, if possible)

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese
4 tablespoons softened butter
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
3 tablespoons chopped scallions
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning (I do NOT encourage substitutes here)
fresh ground black pepper, to taste
dash or so of hot sauce, recommend Louisiana Hot Sauce
1 jar marinated artichokes, drained

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a buttered glass baking dish, lay fish in a single layer. Brush with lemon juice.

In a bowl, combine cheese, butter mayonnaise, onion, and seasonings. Mix well with a fork.

Bake the fish 10 to 20 minutes, or until the fish starts to flake. Remove from oven, spread with cheese mixture. Spread artichokes around the fish. Bake another 5 to 10 minutes or until golden brown.

Delicious when served with dirty rice and fried okra.

Summer Reflections

It's what? July 26th? REALLY? {Insert dramatic wide eyes here}

Yes, it is. More than halfway through the summer, and what have I done so far? A lil' bit of everything I suppose. Sweat, swim, stay up really late a few weekends, and indulge in a little libation here and there. And of course enjoy my Pirate games.

I like to reminisce of leisurely summer days of old, when the tips of my toes would find themselves dangling off the pool deck into the cool water. Or when I'd be munching on tea berries, lounging in my favorite patch of moss and staring blankly at the puffy white clouds in the sky. Or a lazy afternoon swinging on the porch swing. My Dad had ours hung under a massive grape vine arbor.

Summers as a child were particularly special when I was growing up. My Mom stayed home with us, and from the moment the sun was up we were out- riding our bikes, picking berries off in the woods somewhere, or out in the sand, playing with our Dukes of Hazzard cars. (I had Daisy's little white jeep.) I remember the sun, especially. It never seemed unbearably hot. It just felt so warm on my skin. I loved watching it set, it was a bright orange ball descending behind the lush green hills in the Pennsylvania country side.


We practically lived outside, even at night. We had a tent we pitched right in our back yard. We'd light a campfire, and it seemed we had hot dogs and mountain pies for dinner just about every night. We'd catch fire flies.

That's what summer was to me. Now, well... it's different. I go to work. I try to pack as much fun as I can into the weekends. I forgo housework. It's not quite the same, but I'm not complaining. It's just a fact of life, I suppose.

I pass a billboard on my way into the office every morning that reads "Expect everything out of life". I think it's for life-insurance. I guess I do expect everything, and occasionally that leads to dissatisfaction or frustration. When your and adult, your problems become more than worrying about running out of fudgesicles or having a flat tire on your bike.

So, especially during the summer, when the monotony of every day or the aggravations of life try to take over, I'll sit back. I'll close my eyes, envision that bright-orange sunset and smell the freshly cut summer grass. I know I can't physically relive those days. But I can always go back there, forever thankful that I have the memories.

Rules For the PA Driver's License Center:

I had to renew my driver's license. Yesterday I enjoyed a much-deserved day of rest, and took the day off to do things that normally I'm unable to do through the week.

One such task was the dreaded driver's license center. I soon found out that the following do's and don'ts apply when renewing your license in the wonderful state of Pennsylvania:

1. DO take a book, a DS, your IPod, snacks, medication for nerves, a pillow, blanket and an alarm clock.

2. DO NOT take your antsy seven-year old who has to pee every 15 minutes.

3. BE prepared to wait. For at least four hours, on a fast day.

4. EXPECT the clerk to not know how to do her job.


No wonder people in PA take such shitty pictures for their licenses. By the time your number is called, you have permanent frown lines etched into your skin and your once-perfectly coiffed hair resembles Don Kings 'do.