The Bigger They Are - Asian-Inspired Teriyaki Chicken and Kimchee Sliders

Okay, let's get to the good stuff first:

Asian-Inspired Teriyaki Chicken and Kimchee Sliders

Makes 12 slider-sized sandwiches

1/2 to 2/3 of package frozen cooked, cubed chicken (I found Tyson brand at Walmart)
1 bottle Panda Express Mandarin Teriyaki Sauce
Sesame oil, optional
Clover honey, optional
Red pepper flakes, optional
1 small onion, halved lengthwise and sliced fairly thin
1 package Pepperidge Farm slider rolls left attached, sliced through the middle
8 leaves mild kimchee cabbage, drained, sliced crosswise into strips. Pat dry before assembling sliders.
Freeze dried or fresh chives, to taste (optional)
6 slices Havarti cheese, cut in half
2-3 tablespoons butter, melted
Sesame seeds, light and/or dark

Combine the frozen chicken, onions, and about half of the bottle of Mandarin Teriyaki sauce in a crockpot. Taste the teriyaki sauce and if you like add a small amount of the sesame oil and/or the honey. Also optional, add some of the pepper flakes. Cover and cook on High for 1 1/2 to two hours stirring a few times during the cooking.  When done, set aside to cool at room temperature.

Set the bottom layer of the rolls in a rectangular baking dish. Remove the chicken and onions from the crock pot with a slotted spoon, allowing excess sauce to drip off. Distribute evenly on each roll bottom, then top the chicken with the kimchee. Sprinkle on the chives and place the half slices of cheese over each slider. Lightly brush some of the remaining teriyaki sauce on the underside of the roll tops, and place the tops over the cheese. Press down gently.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Brush the tops and visible sides of the rolls with the butter. Sprinkle on the sesame seed. Bake for 20-25 minutes. Let cool for 10 - 15 minutes before cutting and serving.

I took several photos but cannot figure out how to find them and store them so they can be inserted onto the page. Google forced their new photo service on me, and it is nothing like the easy, breezy Picasa.  For now, this is all I got:

Wait, wait, a few more just showed up:

Tuesday is not the busiest day of my usual week, and like Monday, I rarely stir from the house. Except on Tuesday evening I have tai chi class, which means that during the day I need to maintain some semblance of normality. So this morning, instead of pulling myself together physically and mentally, I took a fall in the laundry room, landing so hard that Robert ran upstairs to see what had happened. Miraculously I did not break or even sprain anything (at least nothing that I am aware of) although I managed to simultaneously hit my right knee, hip, and shoulder against the ceramic tile floor.

Wherever my guardian angel is hanging out, thank you thank you very much.  However, what I am concerned about, now that several hours have passed, is that my clumsy inadvertent attempt at breakdancing has set off a fibromyalgia flare. Since I was already dealing with some back and right leg pain, it becomes a matter of degree, i.e. I hurt a lot more than I did before the fall.  Most excitement I've had since Election Day night.

Speaking of elections, the President-elect is attempting to assemble his Cabinet and close advisers team, relying on many of the same Washington insiders and big-money banking types he scorned during his campaign. Whenever I read news relating to the Presidential transition of power, I experience a combination of anxiety and indigestion. For one thing, I can't pretend that on December 19th, the Electoral College is going to flip the victory to Hillary Clinton because she garnered far more of the popular vote than Trump, and that means this is really happening. The final curtain is coming down on the Barack and Uncle Joe Show, Hillary and Bill are heading back to Chappaqua, and Trump is going to name Steve Bannon from Breitbart News as his Chief of Staff. If that doesn't scare you, you must not be a Jew or a person of color or Latino, or a female (especially of childbearing age), or a Muslim, and you get the idea.

As we get inexorably closer to January 20th, I can't help but feel that I am watching a terrible, horrible, no-good play, and even though I paid dearly for the tickets I can't just stand up and leave the theatre.

Hope you like the sliders. I've been playing around with different combinations of the main components. So far the best have been my pastrami reuben sliders and my muffuletta sliders. I think I also made meatball sliders.

Be Careful What You Wish For (You May Get It)

It's been 4 months since I paid any attention to the blog, and if you were a regular reader, I apologize for the absence. I actually drafted a post back in September, but for reasons I can't readily recall, failed to finish and publish. You can read it at the end of today's blog entry.

It is no coincidence that I am back the week after Election Day.  For a year and a half I have been captivated by the Presidential campaigns, but never more so than since the conclusion of the party conventions. At which point I bypassed captivation and headed straight to reasonable obsession.

If you happen to be a Facebook friend, then you already know that, as much as possible, I campaigned vigorously for Hillary Clinton, at least as much as I could being homebound quite a bit.  As you know, it was a brutal campaign and I would be lying if I told you I wasn't bitterly disappointed. I'm still not up to reliving the horror, and I certainly don't want any part of the post-mortem, but I will say that I am furious with large swathes of the American adult population, half of which could not be bothered to vote, and with the ones that did vote for Donald Trump. Okay, I'll take your word for it that you are not a racist, misogynist, litigious, anti-Semitic, xenophobic, personality disordered sexual predator. What I'm getting stuck on is that you are willing to tolerate someone with all of those negative attributes.

So you tell me, "we wanted change! We wanted an outsider not part of the Washington establishment!" To which I reply, are you effing kidding me? Do you remember the last time this country elected a President who would provide a change from The Old Guard? Someone who was above the scandals, political schemes, and the in-fighting? Someone who wasn't beholden to lobbyists or special interest groups? Well, do you?

For those of you who were born after 1970, let me cut to the chase: did you ever hear of Jimmy Carter? Yes indeed, that nice old man who builds homes - literally - with Habitat for Humanity? A sincere man of God, a good man with a good heart, a man who had executive experience as the Governor of the State of Georgia, yet still from outside the Beltway? Worst President in my lifetime? Fortunately he was a One Term Wonder, but still there were those four cringeworthy years during which people began to think that Gerald Ford's pardon of Richard Nixon wasn't so terrible after all.

Things are going to change, alright. Starting with a President-elect who doesn't really want to live in the White House.

And that's all I'm going to say about that, for now.

The fibromyalgia continues to kick my butt from here to wherever. I tire very easily but still cannot sleep. What can I say, it's a life. My world is much smaller now, and there are more than a few bucket list items I will never be able to fulfill, but it could be a lot worse. I can still cook (just not as often), I can read, and I can knit. Oh, and I can see without my glasses! After so many years, when I wake up in the morning the world around me is no longer one big, fuzzy blur. Look Ma, no cataracts!

From September:
I cooked yesterday. Mussels in Wine Sauce, an old faithful recipe that never feels to please my jaded palate. Never mind that I used to use mussels for fish bait back in the old days at Camp Anawana; that was several lifetimes ago, and it is now common culinary knowledge that mussels rock. Better than clams, if you ask me.

The only problem with cooking is that I have to stand up to do it, and there is invariably a price to pay for such physical extravagance. My plan to spend time downstairs watching TV with my husband flew out the window and it was all I could do to creep upstairs, swallow a muscle relaxer, and collapse onto the bed. Sometimes it's a hard-knock life. I woke up with a nearly blinding headache, took some Advil, and re-collapsed (if there is such a word) on the bed. Boom! There went my Saturday.

Speaking of boom, several bombs showed up yesterday, two in Manhattan and one in nearby New Jersey. A number of people were hurt, and no one has stepped up to claim responsibility. New York City Mayor Bill DeBlasio tells us that the bomb was "an intentional act" (no kidding) but "not related to terrorism." Right.

I've been trying to figure out how the new Google photo app, which replaced Picasa, can work for me and my blog, and so far doing a crap job of it. I am reduced to hitting buttons displayed on the screen and hoping for the best.

So here is one of the lace squares I wanted to post yesterday. The pattern is called "Spanish Windows", and I found it in one of Barbara G. Walker's Knitting Pattern Treasuries.

 

And here is my rendition of "Frost Flowers", also from Barbara G. Walker. I am particularly pleased with how this one turned out, although it is nowhere near perfect. Knitting perfect lace is beyond my abilities, but I still enjoy trying. I'm not sure how these photos finally showed up in Google, and I'm still having to access my pictures by stopping first at Picasa, but here they are, at least until Google changes something else causing me yet another mini micro meltdown.

I am trying desperately not to start writing about politics, and more specifically, about the upcoming election.

All You Need Is Love

Where have I been the past two months? Well, that's a good question, upon which I found myself reflecting just today. Life-changing stuff has been going on, interspersed with a good dose of knitting.

Top of the list has been cataract surgery. After 6 months of dreading to drive because my vision could no longer be corrected by any eyeglass prescription known to man, I can see again. Even at night, behind the wheel of my car. Most astonishing of all is that I no longer need any sort of glasses at all, except for "close" stuff like reading, knitting, and typing this blog, a total reversal of how I've been seeing the world since I was eight years old. Being inexorably nearsighted for well over half a century, I had gotten into the habit of reading without my glasses. Just bring the written word up close, like to the end of my nose, and I was happy. Threading needles, putting on eyeliner, clipping my cuticles, even some knitting, all performed with a precision borne of my misshapen ocular lenses. Needless to say, I am having to relearn how to see. I still haven't gotten the eyeliner down pat, but as the old saying goes, that should be the least of my problems. This is nothing short of a miracle.

Nudging my newly-reclaimed eyesight for first place is the favorable conclusion of my disability claim. After all the aggravation, fear, and anger, my hearing before the administrative judge went well, due in no small part to the guidance of the disability firm representative, and I was notified that my appeal had been granted (despite the best efforts of my primary doctors to screw me to a wall). Now I just have to wait for Social Security to process the court's order and will hopefully begin to see  real money being direct deposited to our account.

Fibromyalgia continues to create limitations, but I am learning to accept them and adapt daily life. If I manage to get One Thing Done during the day, I am satisfied. More than that is going to send me to back to bed, but that is becoming part of the rhythm of life. When I was in my thirties I could work two jobs and go to school; in my sixties, keeping company with fibromyalgia, I can sometimes get down the steps, clean up after my pets, and make the bed. I'm still a productive member of society; it's all just a matter of perspective.

I cook more infrequently now, relying on old favorites, and allow myself the luxury of picking up Publix fried chicken or Chinese food, or some other sort of take-out to supplement my family's diet. I understand that is what "normal" people do, when they are not trying to prove they are the world's greatest home cook. I am learning to stop trying to prove anything to anybody, so I am somewhat more relaxed about the contents of my refrigerator and the messy state of my household. I am finally beginning to accept that I am an inveterate clutterer, and no longer worry about changing my ways. Finally at 63, I am free of that particular form of guilt and it feels good.

But I do have one guilty pleasure (well, maybe two - I'm still eating too much chocolate), and that is my almost total immersion in this crazy political season. I am glued to the News app on my iPhone/iPad, and I share too many articles on Facebook.  But you probably already know this. My despair over the direction of this election is palpable; better not to get into it right now.

So it is fair to say that the only fly in this nominally positive ointment is Donald Trump. And also, another fly or maybe just a little flea, would be those annoying voices in my head. I'm not all that concerned, as I can't hear most of what they are saying, and more importantly, no one is telling me to engage in any dangerous, cruel, or illegal acts. Their presence is, however, causing my therapist to repeatedly express his deep concern which means eventually I am going to have to follow his advice and consult with a medical-type person.  Until then, I'm going to leave them in peace, living as they do in my attic (literally and figuratively speaking).

And for your viewing pleasure - Lace!

Puppies!

One Dark Lord of the Sith!

Oops. Gotta figure out how this Google photo album thing, which replaced Picasa, works. Damn, spit, and dirty socks. Till next time.

Fuggedaboutit

I had it with that frakking Lattice Lace pattern. Frogged it for the last time and decided the problem was the pattern, not me. I've been knitting for well over 50 years, and I've done a lot of lace knitting without problems. Gorgeous stuff, shawls and scarves and even socks, all complicated lace.  If I can't knit this without constant errors, then THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH THE PATTERN. I just want to make that perfectly clear.

I still love the yarn, which is a soft acrylic (yes, acrylic, just get over yourself) in a lovely shade of yellow, not too intense, not washed out, just perfect.  And I found just the pattern to show it off.

Now why was I so obsessed with getting the Lattice Lace pattern to work when I had this pretty number, Wavy Eyelet Rib pattern, just waiting in the wings? Because, as my mother always told me, I'm a stubborn brat.  Assuming one can still be a brat at an advanced age.

I've been sick to my stomach a good part of this week and have come to the conclusion that it was caused by politics. And maybe the milk I put into my iced coffee, since I've become lactose intolerant these past few years. First, I am mad at Hillary. Yes, me. I am the quintessential Clintonista, Bill AND Hill, and I've been waiting for her to become President for 8 years. She's got the tools, she's got the talent. Brilliant, committed to her causes (most, not all which I support), hard-working, and those pant suits! Seriously, I adore her and am grateful to her for the role she has played for women's rights.  But I am truly pissed because I know that sometime she lies, and pushes the envelope, and plays fast and loose with the rules, and there is no freaking reason for her to do that. Yes, all politicians lie and play games with the truth, but in my opinion she is so incredibly suited for the Presidency that she just doesn't have to do that sh*t.  Hillary, can you hear me? Don't give anyone an excuse to vote for That Horrid Man.

Speaking of That Horrid Man - yes, I realize that the contents of the hacked DNC emails are important and that Debbie Wasserman Schultz should probably be keel hauled for what she did, BUT the provenance of those emails is also important. Are the Russians hacking into our government agencies? Of course they are, and shame on you if you think otherwise. Is Donald Trump somehow involved in obtaining those emails or otherwise having them directed to that Wikileaks dude, to be released at precisely the wrong moment? Could be, and again, if you think it's totally outside the realm of possibility, shame on you. Only time and yet another FBI investigation will tell.

Now, as to DJT - this is a person who is mentally and emotionally incapable of discharging the duties of President of the United States, or for that matter, any elective office.  He has no focus, he has no filter, and he has no self-control. He is a scammer, a carnival barker, a liar and a cheat from way back. He isn't anywhere as intelligent as he boasts, and he surrounds himself with sycophants instead of strong, wise, experienced advisors. He knows virtually nothing of foreign policy, does not know how to speak with foreign dignitaries, and never considers the consequences of his actions. In sum total, he is a bigoted, undignified bully who can't keep his twisted promises to the electorate who support him.  And that's my opinion.

I've just about used up all my spoons for today and still need a few for tai chi class, so that's it for typing - shoulders and back are hurting. Next post I'll work on typing up a recipe or two.

To Be Continued ...

#nevertrump #dumptrump
#imwithher #feelthepantsuit

Sometimes It Just Turns Out That Way

Here it is Monday, typical sucky Monday - I had a nice blog post all written and ready to go, and well, the Internet ate it. Gone forever. It included a few paragraphs I had written over a week ago, and I still have those, so here you are:

On a more personal note, I had to frog 19 rows of knitting last night, as I find it virtually impossible to repair mistakes in a pattern that includes yarn overs and decreases on both sides. I remained calm although a part of me wanted to start whacking at the offending rows with a large pair of sharp scissors. I also threw together a pasta salad. There's no recipe, because pasta salad is anything you want it to be and we want it to be full of cheese, meat, marinated things and fresh veggies. I happened to have perline pasta in the fridge from a recent trip to Trader Joe's, and the rest was serendipity. All I knew is that I had to move fast, before my back gave out. Just squeaked through, and I even tried to keep Rob company while watching Andrew Zimmern rave about eating rotted nasty bits, but I just could not get comfortable and the pain was making me cranky. Is still making me cranky, I might add.

Cory was quite complimentary about the pasta salad. That perline pasta is little "purses" stuffed with prosciutto, what could be bad?

Speaking of bad, the pain has become unbearable and the itching is worse than the pain. For the first time in a long time I am needing to cry. As the day became night, and Sunday morphed into Monday, I slept not at all, waking at 1 AM, tossing, turning, reading, taking Advil PM, all to no avail. I got up at 4 AM and started to cook the chicken I'd bought on Saturday. There was no pleasure in the process, just a grim determination to feed my family.

There are a few recipes I developed and will type up for the blog in the fullness of time.

Back to the present - I checked my stats this morning and without a doubt, the Russians have developed an unhealthy interest in this blog. Nine hundred and sixty four visits compared to sixty from the US. I can't say there's hacking, since this is a public blog and there's no reason to hack, but I don't know what to think. Except that my mood is usually dark with ribbons of paranoia (I am descended from Russians, after all) and these crazy-ass Russian forays are pissing me off.

The fibromyalgia has damn near killed me this week. Never mind the gory details, just take my word for it.  In the middle of all that, I had my hearing on the disability appeal and a 4 hour pre-op session for my upcoming cataract surgery. Between the separate surgeries and post-op exams, the entire month of August is going to be one big blur to me (did I really type that?) so I skipped over into September and booked a cruise. Carnival out of Canaveral, my favorite panacea. At the risk of committing another bad pun, it gives me something to look forward to.

Finally, still knitting - my latest swatch:

It's dark, like my mood.  Not sure what I'll use it for, but it's in my knitting squares queue. And here is the yarn-based bane of my existence, this beautiful lace pattern that I have swatched and tested and modified and tested again. So I started the square, knitting ever-so-carefully in total silence, no distractions, and can you believe there's an error in here but I am freaking leaving it. Probably no one will see it except for me, and if someone does manage to point it out I'll stick my nose in the air and proclaim, "that's what makes it unique!"

The Democratic National Convention starts today; I haven't decided if I am going to watch it or stick to reruns of "Night Court".

My hope is that you have a much better day than Debbie Wasserman-Schultz.