This is a cooking blog with a back story. It focuses on food, family, fiber arts, pets, friends, and fibromyalgia. It's about life at a certain age, the joys, the sorrows, the backaches, the mental confusion. There's a lot of kvetching, complaining, occasional profanity, righteous indignation, political incorrectness, knitting exhortations, and really good, original recipes.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on Reese Witherspoon's Rustic Nuptials
To anyone controlling the media in the Western Hemisphere: <RANT> I'm so sorry, but I do not care about the news of Reese Witherspoon's "star-studded wedding details" including the fact that "at her nuptials, the star created a rustic ranch fantasyland for her family and A-list friends." Yes, that was the top headline on the Yahoo Home Page. The President's upcoming speech on Libya was only number four. Well, enough of this. I just switched to Google News as my home page. Much better - Britney Spears doesn't show up until number 9 of the listed articles. I can live with that, although maybe she should have come AFTER the story about the major shift in German politics. </RANT>
I have these cute little note cards I picked up at a dollar sale at Michael's, which have a picture of a fifties' style lady with upswept hair and pearl earrings (I always loved when Gracie Allen wore a hat, pearls, and white gloves to go food shopping) and daintily holding a steaming cuppa. The saying on the cards is deeply profound, at least for my life: "I am only as strong as the coffee I drink and the hairspray I use." Oh, if there was ever a day that typified that expression, Monday was that day. The weather was incredibly ugly, un-Florida-like in the extreme. Rainy days and Mondays, what a cliche'. To make it worst, the weatherpersons over at the local station are predicting that this precipitation nation will prevail for the rest of the week.
The view from my backyard
Chronic drizzle, when it's not raining torrents, definitely something to look forward to. This storm's arrival woke me up at 4:15 Monday morning, with a house-shaking rumble and noise reminiscent of a shuttle landing. Totally sonic boom-worthy. The dogs woke up, ran downstairs and barked for King and Country. They would not shut up. Neither Rob nor I got anywhere near enough sleep. I started my first cup of coffee - hot and black, no kidding around at 7:00 AM, no sweetener or milky stuff, no frou-frou mocha happy macchiato frappucino for me before noon. If I could have poured it directly into my veins, I would have, but had to be content with shkoffing it down as fast as humanly possible. My spine stiffened, my eyes opened, and I was able to move forward. Ah ha ha, but the next step was going to take me out of the house, and this kind of weather is famous for it's bad hair-inducing properties. So I turned to my other source of strength, hairspray, and a lot of it. Because the bigger the hair, the closer to God.
Aw, crap, that didn't work. Thanks to the rain whipping hither and yon, an umbrella was not up to the task of keeping my head dry, so I had to wear a hat, which, despite repeated teasing and liberal applications of Stay-Stiff Hairspray for Country Western singers, left my hair flatter than the President's approval numbers. Worst of all my feet got wet, a feeling I absolutely despise, and I had no choice but to go forward with my trial when all I really wanted to do was rush home, take off the soggy shoes and icky-foot pantyhose, and pull on a nice, dry, warm pair of handknit socks.
This weather has made me aware of a Terrible Disturbance in the Force. The birds are disturbed by it. As I drove to work, I saw a wild turkey walking unsteadily along the sidewalk. He looked depressed. His head was drooping, and he looked like something had been chewing on his feathers. Then I passed an egret walking right down the middle of the road. I had to drive around the poor fellow. When I got to the office, I heard an anguished squawk from the sandhill cranes who live in the mini-marshes around the industrial park. Finally, the spider who lives in my car's back window wiper has been spinning schizophrenic webs. She is capable of perfect, intricate designs, but lately ... not so much. The Dark Side has preempted her creative capabilities. Either that or down came the rain and washed the spider out.
For the food portion of today's blog, check this out - Cheerios for grown-ups!
Rold Gold's Everything Bagel Pretzel
I am not cooking today. First of all, I cut my thumb while chopping onions on Sunday, and it hurts. I can't properly use my office BlackBerry to answer emails because I am temporarily left thumb challenged. If I accidentally cut my other thumb, I might as well take a week off. Secondly, I have enough prepared food to feed a small third world nation. Maybe by tomorrow the boys will eat enough that I will simply have to cook a couple of pounds of pasta or roast a whole pig, but right now I'm not feeling it.
We cut into the bread pudding tonight, and it made a lovely slice: