Mourning Charleston - Chicken-Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms

Some events are too awful to imagine.  Too difficult to wrap your mind around.  Too shocking to absorb. What the hell just happened in South Carolina?  

Today is a bad day as dictated by the neurons in my brain.  I feel out-of-sorts.  Aches and pain, of course, but it's a mood thing as well.  My brain is foggy, so that simple tasks cannot be completed in any sort of linear fashion.  Even as I'm typing this, I want to stop and do something else, like storing the plastic containers I bought yesterday.  I am trying to do some cooking, but having an awful time starting and staying on task.  The cooking and writing should flow seamlessly - on its better days, this is a cooking blog - but I am having the damnedest time trying to prepare the stuffed portobellos.  I've made some changes, but can't seem to record them in any sort of ordered fashion.

A Variation on Diane Mott Davidson's Portobello Mushroom Stuffed With Grilled Chicken

4 Monterey brand portobello mushrooms stuffed with spinach and artichoke
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup dry sherry
1 tablespoon fresh herbs, chopped (I used tarragon and thyme)

With a fork, gently move the filling so that the gills are exposed around the edge of each mushroom cap. In a measuring cup, combine the olive oil, sherry, and herbs, and whisk together.  Let this sit for about a half hour.  Carefully spoon 2 tablespoons of the marinade on the exposed gills of each mushroom cap.  Leave this at room temperature while you prepare and marinate the chicken.  When you are ready to grill the chicken, spread out the spinach artichoke filling across the entire mushroom cap, and then pop them under the broiler for about 4 minutes.

Goldy Schulz, the main character in The Last Suppers, gets her herbaceous flavors from basil-based pesto, but I decided to try tarragon and thyme for the mushrooms, and yes, fresh from my garden.  The marinade for the chicken, on the other hand, is all about garlic, green onion, and home-grown oregano, but that's a bit later.  Tarragon and thyme both go very well with mushrooms, as does using sherry for a marinade base.  The inspiration for using the tarragon comes from my friend Vicki Feldman, who is probably going to shake her head when she reads this:

It was very late in 1975.  I was between marriages, back home with my parents, and totally at loose ends.  I had met Vicki through her husband Steve, an old friend of mine from New Paltz.  They invited me to their home in Westchester for a New Year's Eve party, and to meet an unattached young man who would be there as well.  I don't remember his name, or the city he hailed from in Massachusetts, but I do remember that Vicki had prepared delicious stuffed mushrooms for the party and what made them exceptional was her addition of tarragon.  That's when I learned that tarragon goes really well with mushrooms.  Thanks, Vicki!

2 large chicken breast halves, cut in half horizontally, and then cut in half across
kosher salt
ground black pepper
1/4 cup garlic flavored extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 green onions, white and light green parts sliced thinly
1/2 tablespoon fresh oregano leaves, chopped
2 tablespoons chopped sun-dried tomatoes
4 slices Swiss cheese

Place the chicken in a baking dish.  Season evenly with the salt and pepper. Combine the olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic, green onion and oregano, and whisk together.  Pour this marinade over the chicken and let sit at room temperature for an hour.  Grill the chicken for 1 to 2 minutes (I used my Cuisinart Griddler) and return to the baking dish with the marinade. Divide the sun-dried tomatoes evenly and sprinkle across each mushroom cap.  Place 2 pieces of the chicken on each mushroom cap, and then evenly divide the remaining marinade components and liquid.  Place in a 350 degree oven for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven, and place a slice of cheese over each. Return to the oven for an additional 10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and everything is heated through.  Serve immediately.

That's just gorgeous.  Gorgeous and impressive.  And I have it on good authority that they were delicious.

Speaking of impressive, I'm going to be making tamales, specifically Red Pork Chili Tamales, another recipe from Tamales 101 by Alice Guadalupe Tapp.  Once I made that decision, I kinda went nuts with other dishes to go with the tamales.  The tamales are a lengthy project that will stretch out over days - good thing, because the avocados and the yellow plantains are nowhere near ripe enough.

Yes that's lard.  It has a place in the masa.  The pigeon peas are for arroz con gandules (rice with peas).  The refried beans are for my refried beans with everything recipe .

The yellow plantains will be turned into maduros, and the avocados into a rich dip that can also be used as a sauce, both in the fullness of time. I am recklessly mixing the menu with Mexican, Puerto Rican, South American and Tex-Mex recipes and having a grand time.

To wrap today up - it has been unbelievably difficult to watch the news reports of the victim's families' statements to the murderer, during his bond hearing.  My heart is broken for them and for the city of Charleston.

God give them strength.

Mystery Mushrooms - Portobello Mushrooms Stuffed with Grilled Chicken

For pure TV viewing entertainment, you cannot beat science fiction.  Series like Babylon 5, Farscape, Battlestar Galactica, Stargate SG-1, Firefly, Doctor Who, Torchwood, Quantum Leap, Andromeda, and Star Trek in all of its incarnations have been faithfully followed since I was young, starting the Star Trek in 1966. (Although Doctor Who premiered in 1962, I did not become a Whovian until 2005.  My loss, yes, I know.)

When it comes to reading, my preference is for mystery novels - old-fashioned murder mysteries, police procedurals, cozies, detective, legal/medical - there are many more.  Even before I got hooked on Star Trek I had started working my way through novels written by Ellery Queen and Rex Stout. Not a Nancy Drew person;  my interest in girl's mystery novels was from the Judy Bolton series, a few volumes which were in our house.  I wish I had those books now; they had been printed during the War (the Big One, World War II) according to wartime restriction on the use of paper.  I have no doubt that they belonged to my mother Joyce.  Both Joycie and I were raised by someone who loved to read murder mysteries. Those four Ellery Queen and two Rex Stout novels belonged to my grandmother; she left them out on a shelf, and I read them, and re-read them and re-read them.  Even now, there is a paperback volume of Ellery Queen's Calamity Town on my night table, as well as one on my Kindle app, and at least twenty of Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe mysteries on Kindle.

Having said all that, when it comes to re-reading favorite novels, top awards also go to Robert Heinlein. He is the exception to my rule about reading mysteries for entertainment and relaxation.

I would have to say that my favorite modern mystery writer is Patricia Cornwell for her Scarpetta series, but I love so many others, and it's hard to put them in any kind of order.  Let me throw out one series - the culinary mysteries of Diane Mott Davidson (ah ha, finally getting to the reason for the last three paragraphs). Her main character is a caterer, and the author includes a substantial number of recipes in each novel. I've cooked several of those recipes and they are good, really good.  One of my favorites is her Portobello Mushrooms Stuffed With Grilled Chicken, Pesto, and Sun Dried Tomatoes from her book The Last Suppers.  

So after all my talk about toxic mushrooms, I thought it would be nice to clear my emotional palate and make a really delicious dish with portobellos.  There are many ways to stuff a portobello, but as I've said, I really like Diane Mott Davidson's version.

Portobello Mushrooms Stuffed With Grilled Chicken, Pesto, and Sun Dried Tomatoes

4 large portobello mushrooms

Marinade for Mushrooms:
5 tablespoons olive oil
5 tablespoons dry sherry

Marinade for chicken:
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 clove garlic, pressed

4 skinless boneless chicken breast halves each cut in half
¼ cup pesto
2 tablespoons finely chopped sun-dried tomatoes, drained and patted with paper towels if packed in olive oil

Carefully clean the mushrooms with damp paper towel and trim. Remove and chop the stems. Place the mushroom caps, tops down, and the chopped stems in a 9 by 13-inch glass-baking dish. Pour 1 tablespoon olive oil and 1 tablespoon sherry over the underside of each mushroom cap, pour the remaining olive oil and sherry over the stems. Cover and set aside to marinate at room temperature for 1 hour.

Mix together the marinade for the chicken and pour over the chicken slices. Cover and set aside to marinate at room temperature for 1 hour.

Preheat a grill. Grill the chicken quickly, about 1 to 2 minutes per side (they will be cooked further). Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Carefully spread 1 tablespoon pesto over the underside of each mushroom cap. Sprinkle 1 ½ teaspoons sun-dried tomatoes on top of each pesto-covered mushroom. Evenly distribute the marinated mushroom stems on top of the tomatoes.

Place 2 slices of chicken on top. Place the stuffed mushrooms in a greased 9 by 13-inch pan. Bake for approximately 20 to 25 minutes or until heated through. Serve immediately.  Makes 4 servings.

Pretty easy and you can prepare most of it in advance.  And it's really, really good.  How could it not be, with that combination of tastes?

I knew with happy certainty that when I went out on my food shopping expedition today - too many stops and too many items, as it turned out - I was going to pick up the chicken and the portobellos.  Except it was one of those days when Walmart in Kissimmee was missing all the stuff I needed for the tamales, and while they had the portobello mushrooms, the available mushrooms were subject to an interesting twist.

Hum. Spinach and artichoke stuffed mushrooms.

Well, that was a new one for me.  But with the thought "what could be bad?" I purchased these.  I'll adapt them to work with the recipe and I bet they'll be awesome.

Tomorrow.  Tomorrow they'll be awesome.  Today is almost done, and I wore myself out stopping at two different Walmarts, a Wawa, a Race Trac, my therapist's office, and my favorite Spanish market. I'm exhausted; the good news is I do not have to go out tomorrow, and so for the first time in a week, I'm going to do some cooking.

Some very serious, time-consuming cooking.  I am going to make the filling and/or the sauce for the tamales.  This is likely to turn into a three-day project, like the lasagna rolls. And of course, the portobello mushrooms.

Good things from the garden: part of yesterday's pictures.  Let me show off my first tomato.  I'm very excited about it.  Not quite enough to make sauce, or even a small salad, but we're getting there.

Haven't Got Time For The Pain

Surely someone will find this amusing.

This morning I came across an online article that immediately set my hair on fire, followed by this thought: Boycott all Coke products; encourage others to do the same.  So I am asking everyone to stop buying Coke, until the parent company puts the hammer down on the CEO of Coke Palestine and rescinds its Palestinian franchise.

My request is probably going to be as effective as asking people not to shop at Hobby Lobby.

Believe it or not, another day with the electrician working downstairs.  Since it is supposed to be a short visit, I am locked in with the kids, hoping they don't notice that they are locked in with me.  I want my kitchen back, and I want my coffee.  I want my furry kids to have their normal free run of the downstairs.

I have to face the unpleasant reality of making an appointment for the upper GI series, and another appointment to give more blood.  That's two different labs, because life isn't complicated enough.  I should also go to my primary doctor's office to deal with what is certainly a UTI, and to investigate what is either psoriasis or shingles, and is causing me pain.  I haven't got time for the pain. (My Carly Simon ear worm just woke up).

Speaking of pain - the NBA Finals are over.  The Golden State Warriors, led by the awesome Stephen Curry, closed out the series, 4-2 over the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Sorry Lebron, we were rooting for you, and you played magnificently, but your team was down two important players.  This was an amazing series, including the semi-finals and the elimination rounds before that.  Now, we (that's the Orlando Magic "we") have a new coach and well-seasoned talent.  The NBA Draft takes place in another week or so, and we get the fifth pick (I think). Put it all together and we can make it to the 2016 finals.

Whoo hoo, the electrician is done.  Finished, packed up and out of here.  The kids have been freed from purdah, and all is well in the world.  Well, no it's really not.  Out there in the real world, a city in Wisconsin banned the use of kangaroos as service animals, red tuna crabs have washed up on the San Diego beaches, Donald Trump is running for President, the two escaped murderers are still missing and the trail has gone cold (literally, as I am certain they slipped into Canada), then there's all that ISIS stuff in the Middle East, and the Chinese are hacking our Federal government's computer networks.

Aphids, damn it

Over here, near Disney World, which is neither real nor a world, the heat and humidity are unbearable, the aphids are devouring my hibiscus, and damn it, I hurt really bad.  Bad enough that I have confined myself to the corner of my couch so I could stare off into space and feel sorry for myself.  I tried to eat, I really did.  Except for the spoonful of chopped liver, all was for naught. During breaks in my little pity-party, I got some more work done in the garden.  That was fun, and worth the price in pain and perspiration.

One thing I have not planted, but which insists on growing in my garden, are mushrooms.  This is under the same hibiscus as the last two mushrooms which were, despite the superficial resemblance to portobellos, completely poisonous.  This one in the photo has the adorable nickname "death cap", and if I have identified it correctly, the most poisonous mushroom in existence.  I love mushrooms, but not enough to risk my liver or my life.  Cultivated mushrooms will do just fine, thank you.

Seriously not something you want to sauté in butter and serve alongside a grilled steak.  Using my hand rake I pulled it and set it aside to die.  Better it than me or my family.  I'm not adventurous that way; I wouldn't try fugu (pufferfish) even if it was prepared by Masaharu Morimoto.

I have some nice pictures of what is turning into my bounteous harvest.  Perhaps "bounteous" is too aspirational, a slight exaggeration even, but this garden is one thing that has kept me going during some really low times.  I'm treating this first season as a learning experience, but in the meantime, there are real herbs and vegetables growing right outside my windows and that makes me smile.

I'm finally at the point of needing to cook, and I have a couple of options.  One that keeps poking me is for tamales, specifically family chicken tamales, a recipe from the book Tamales 101 by Alice Guadalupe Tapp.  There are gorgeous lamb chops in my freezer.  I've also been somewhat focussed on sausage and peppers, especially since I've got a couple of pounds of the good stuff parked right next to the lamb chops.  One thing I won't be making is gumbo:

The okra plant is growing, but has not yet produced any flowers.  No okra pods, no gumbo.

That, my friends, is a carrot.

And that is a green onion.  Or a weed.  I'm pretty sure it's an onion.

She makes me smile all the time.

Mostly broccoli sprouts with one or two carrots.  Personally, I would not combine these two vegetables in a recipe, but apparently Mother Nature has her own ideas on the subject.

By The Bye - Baby, Buy, Buy, Buy

Awesome ear worm time!

I'm doin' this tonight,

You're probably gonna start a fight.
I know this can't be right.
Hey baby come on, 
I loved you endlessly,
When you weren't there for me.
So now it's time to leave and make it alone
I know that I can't take no more 
It ain't no lie
I wanna see you out that door
Baby, bye, bye, bye...

It occurred to me that yesterday's "to buy or not to buy" Hobby Lobby mini-rant might have caused some readers to question my political positions.  Here's the thing - I have chosen not to politicize all of my buying power.  My political positions are all over the place, and if I relied on them to determine where I should shop, I would have to lock myself in the house and order everything online. If I felt really strongly about the policies of a particular business, I might consider not shopping there.  Or I might  seek another way of expressing my disapproval. Or, more likely I would openly announce and support my position on a particular issue.  Or I might say nothing either way about a particular issue out of concern that I might inadvertently hurt someone's feelings.  I have friends and family at both ends of the political spectrum.  My own political belief system has evolved over time.  No matter what position I support, I am going to shock, surprise, hurt or possibly insult someone close to me, and I really do not want to do that.

Jeb Bush, former Governor of Florida, has officially entered the race for President.  No surprise there. Also no surprise that this morning's news feed on Facebook ran an article that Jeb's son was arrested for drunk driving, and the "left" left comments as expected. There's a small problem - the article, like the arrest, is 10 years old.  Come on, Democrats, you can do better than that!  Marco Rubio got four traffic tickets in 17 years?  I think that was from the New York Times ("All The News That Fits, We Print"), but then there are also the fake articles that seem so real, you might feel compelled to check them on Snopes.com.  Best one this week was the headline regarding New Jersey Governor Chris Christie's statement that "Women's Viagra Pill Will Only Increase Lesbianism."  Unfortunately, Christie is enough of a goofball that this was almost believable.

Of course, the Republicans are just as bad, maybe worse.  They've got one target, and they are hitting her with both barrels. (Oh, Bernie Sanders? I can't take seriously someone who calls himself a socialist.)  Listen, both Hillary and Jeb have records - real records, real history - that are legitimately subject to public scrutiny.   It would behoove the media to stick to the real stuff.  On both sides, there is enough material there that they do not have to sink to the level of the supermarket scandal sheets.

Oh, ha ha HA - while I'm typing this on the iPad, I get a news pop-up announcing that Donald Trump has jumped into the 2016 presidential race.  Now things are getting interesting.  My niece Rachel said it best on Facebook: "soooo, Trump is running for presidency.  Interesting. 'plays circus music.'"

The electrician is back today, so Anakin and the pups are locked up in my room again, and they are VERY unhappy.  A lot of complaining.  How can such a small dog have such a loud bark?  I am unhappy as well; I really dislike having strangers in the house, disrupting my routine and restricting access to the kitchen. My kitchen, my domain. Cue growling noises. Yes, I am irritated, but it cannot be helped.  He is very careful and cleans up after himself, but he is not done, although I am becoming undone.

I also had a Very Bad Night, with some interesting symptoms which don't seem to have anything to do with CPS or fibromyalgia.  I could not relax or get comfortable; it was 4 AM before I was finally able to get the pain sufficiently under control to allow me to fall asleep.  I was still able to wake up at a reasonable hour, and I spent a good amount of time working in and around the garden.  I wore a wide-brimmed straw hat and got my hands good and dirty.

       

I think I made some excellent progress, just stopping short of finishing the herb garden and planting the squash plants. The vegetable bed has been hand-raked so that the top soil is level and all the roots are covered.  I could not help but notice seedlings popping up in unexpected places.  The storms of last week redistributed the seeds, and all I can do is wait and see which ones survive. My back put up with a lot and finally shot me with a blast of pain.  I am on the couch, and if we did not have important errands to run, I would close my eyes and nap until the NBA Finals tip-off.

One of the weirdest things to come out of the storms was the repositioning of a number of broccoli seedlings:

Yes, that is the base of the chimney.  I am growing broccoli on my 90 year old brick chimney, and herbs on my porch railings.

Still not doing any cooking, although I've got a few ideas.  There is a ridiculous amount of cooked food in the fridge, so I'm going to go with the flow and take a break.  Besides, no matter how good a cook I am, nothing beats leftover Chinese.  Nothing.  Admit it, you agree.  

I'm going to end this with some family pictures that were posted by my Junior Cuz Stephanie, following the family gathering at my in-law's home.  

The first picture is with Katelyn while the second one is with Kate's big brother Jacob.  We did not realize, when Stephanie asked to take the picture with Kate, that I was sitting in exactly the same spot. These kids are beyond precious and adorable, and I am honored that Steph asked to take the pictures.

Family matters.

In The Meantime

I am always astounded and astonished at just how quickly my mood can flip.  This morning, I woke feeling fairly fine, but soon thereafter fell into a funk.  This is exactly what the new medication is supposed to prevent, but clearly it is not working yet.

The electricians were in the house doing major work mostly in the kitchen.  My kitchen.  This made me crabby.  I had a prescription to pick up at CVS, which got me out of the house, having failed to accomplish certain things I needed to get done.  So I had a panic attack, but before that, I had to get all of my furry children upstairs and behind closed doors because the electricians were walking in and out of the house, leaving outside doors open.  The pets were not happy, and expressed themselves vociferously.  I would have gritted my teeth if I had any teeth to grit. I escaped to my car, which was hotter than the interior of a Caja China.  That actually felt good on my back, at least for the first few minutes.

Instead of heading straight to CVS, I stopped first at Hobby Lobby.  Yes, Hobby Lobby.  I love Hobby Lobby.  I don't care that they don't carry Hanukkah doodads, or that they close on Sunday so that their employees can observe a religious day of rest, and the Supreme Court's decision in Burwell v. Hobby Lobby is irrelevant to where I buy my sock yarn.

I wandered around for about 45 minutes, petting yarn and admiring the colors.  I checked the displays of needles and hooks and all the other gizmos us knitters utilize.  I looked at their selection of pattern books.

Dazzling, absolutely dazzling. Calmed me down, and cheered me up.

No, I made no purchases - let's face it, even after giving away a great deal of yarn last year, when we moved out of the Orlando house, I've got enough yarn and needles and knitting supplies to open my own store.  I still felt better about the day in general. I did okay at CVS.  I love our CVS.  I love the pharmacy department and the chocolate selection.  And then ...

And then ... I tried to eat.  Epic fail.  Not the big, sloppy cheeseburger with grilled onions I was craving from Five Guys.  I went to Wawa instead and got a chicken salad bowl.  I thought it would be easier to eat than the cheeseburger.  Those first two bites were delicious.

And that's all she wrote.

Not really.  I made it home, lost the two bites, freed the puppies, and took a peek at my newest acquisition, a cookbook with the wonderful title Carnivore by Michael Symon, just before Rob and I went to pick up Chinese food.  Finally, something that stayed down, and that meant my mood went up.  Until it crash lands yet again.  

Speaking of crash landing, my garden needs work. The sweet and jalapeño peppers are hanging on for dear life.  One of my front lawn hibiscus are being eaten up by aphids.  The mint is gone, damn it. I've got to fill and set up the remaining porch rail boxes to plant the cilantro and - this was a very nice surprise - squash plants given to me by my neighbor, offshoots from his own plants.  He also has an urban front yard garden, and he's even closer to the courthouse. Urban gardens are cool.

La Familia Esta Bien (The Family is Good)

There's no good reason to cook today.  We've eaten out both days of this weekend - last night at Bonefish and today at my in-law's home.  Cory is away for the weekend.  There is still some of the chili cockapitzy and most of the lasagna rolls.  I've been picking at the leftover mussels, and my mother in law sent us home with homemade chopped liver.  Finally, there's pastrami, and the sliced tongue.  Which brings up the need for sandwich bread.  Which creates the desire to bake bread.  Well, for me, maybe.  We don't need the bread immediately. We need crab fried rice.

If you like to eat in Bonefish, you have to try their crab fried rice, a new side dish.  There's an upcharge but it is so worth it. Rob had it with his ahi tuna yesterday and gave me a taste.  I will be attempting to recreate the dish in the next day or so.  I might eat a forkful.

Rob and I watch too many cooking and food-related television shows. I've come to that conclusion after sitting through several hours of Travel Channel's Paradise series, which has sparked a craving for chicken wings and loaded nachos.  I couldn't eat either one comfortably, but I can dream. Oh, chicken-fried steak and white gravy. Fried pickles. Damn. I really wish I could eat. When it came to dinner tonight, I knew I wouldn't be able to eat the lasagna roll because the spaghetti sauce is tomato based and tomato would surely burn a hole in my esophogus.  So I made half of a grilled cheese sandwich, ate half of that, and gave it back to the kitchen sink. Pauli Exclusion Principle. The only thing I've been able to eat, finish, and keep down was a macadamia-white chocolate chip cookie.  Good cookie. Tasty calories. Bad nutrition.

Today was a mixed day.  Mad back pain, and I had to use my cane for the first time in a while.  Spent a very nice afternoon with family, including an adorable little baby.

Rob's brother Ken; Dad; brother Charles; and Rob.

Rob's cousin Sheryl holding her (fifth!) grandchild; Sheryl's daughter, Stephanie; Sheryl's sister (and Rob's cousin) Cathi; and Mom. 

You gotta love stuff like this.  Well, I do.  Family is so fragile yet ever-changing, and nobody knows that better than me.  These pictures reminded me that when Robert and I first dated, Ken and Sheryl were seniors in high school, and Cathi even younger.

A long time ago, I stopped referring to Sheryl and Cathi as "Rob's cousins" and started calling them "my cousins."  Confused the hell out of my Uncle Marty, who was my mother's brother.  Hey.  Family is what you make it, by birth, marriage, adoption or even none of the above, like our nephew Eric.

Pay no attention to the redhead on the far right.

My cousin Sheryl, holding her newborn daughter Stephanie, along with her son Peter.

Family is so cool. So it made for a nice afternoon.  Later on, I couldn't eat and the Cleveland Cavaliers lost Game 5 of the NBA Finals, but I had a nice afternoon.  That's what I'm taking from the day.

Stephanie and Cory

The post title is from what I can only describe as an "eye worm".  One Spanish language dialog that I memorized in 1964, and can't get out of my head.  My friend and paralegal Brenda, who has been assisting me in my study of the Spanish language for a number of years, will still crack up laughing if I respond to her questions with a sentence from this damn dialog.  Somewhere out there are blog readers who know me from Lawrence Junior High School and also studied Spanish with Señora Lydia de Stier, a Jewish lady from Argentina.  They probably have the same eye worm, or at least enough of a recollection to crack up along with Brenda.

Que tal, como estas?

Estoy bien, gracias y tu?

Bien, gracias.  La familia, esta bien?

Si, señor, bastante bien.

Como estan Pablo y Luisa?

Pablp esta bien, pero Luisa tiene catarro.

Que lastima, lo siento.  Ojala que se mejore pronto!

Muchas gracias. Bueno, tengo que irme.

Entonces hasta luego.

Adios, recuerdos a todos.

Muchas gracias, Señora de Stier.  Some days I can't remember my telephone number, but I never forget this dialog.  El burro sabe mas que yo.

The Pioneer Pantry - I Can Do The Can-Can Too

Robert and I were watching Food Network this morning, more specifically The Pioneer Woman, one of my favorites.  I am crazy about Ree Drummond, and her recipes.  She's sort of a midwestern Barefoot Contessa, and that's a good thing.  This episode was Perfecting the Pantry, in which she created several dishes, restricting herself primarily to the cans in her pantry.  If you stop by here on a regular basis, you know how I love what I call pantry buster recipes. What caught my attention was her 7-Can Soup.  Maybe another time.  

Now Ree cooks for four children and a cowboy husband.  Those kids work the ranch alongside their dad, and everyone has a healthy appetite.  So imagine my surprise when, viewing the inside of Ree's pantry, I could see that it is organized very similar to mine, including the amounts of food.  I apparently stock enough food to cook for a family of six with healthy appetites.  I cook enough for a block party, but my eating audience is technically 1.75 people.  Yes, I know we are a family of three.

That's why my freezer - my second freezer - looks like this.  Each of those aluminum tins is filled with extras from my cooking sprees.  The good news is that if Ree and her hard-working offspring and her hunky husband ever vacation in Disneyworld, I can invite them all to dinner and there will be plenty of food.

Today, June 13th, is World Wide Knit in Public Day, and as I mentioned in the previous blog post, I have not been doing any knitting for quite a while, and that makes me feel very sad.  As if I wasn't sad enough.  Now I have a Michael's, JoAnn's, and even a Hobby Lobby practically within walking distance of my home (please forgive my mild bent for exaggeration), and I haven't gone to any one of them to pet the yarns for such a long time.  I surely don't check up on Yarn Harlot with the same frequency as in the past, and that's my loss because the Harlot (Stephanie Pearl-McPhee) is a joy to read. She is inspirational.  She is a knitting genius.  I am a knitting ne'er-do-well.  Must - do - some - knitting.

So, I continue to be a good little soldier with my new medication.  I'm still feeling sad, I get headaches, and I feel a little increase in appetite.  I knew that weight gain is one of the main side effects, so I was sort of prepared for it.  Although it is a weird feeling as I haven't really felt hunger since June 2, 2003, and I'm not sure I remember it (not kidding).  It could be digestive upset.

I am getting just a little concerned that three of my doctors are conspiring to prescribe medications that have weight gain as a side effect.  Ha ha ... can we add paranoia to that list of symptoms?  Look docs, I wouldn't mind gaining back a little, but lack of appetite is not how I lost this weight.  In case you have forgotten, especially you, Doctor Gastroenterologist, my stomach is the size of a postage stamp, and most of my small intestine has been bypassed.  The Laws of Physics (I know there's a pun in there, but there was no way to get around it) cannot be flouted with impunity.  Well, if we accept that the space remaining in my postage stamp stomach pouch and the food that I eat are composed of fermions, they cannot occupy the same quantum state simultaneously.  Oh hell. Google Wolfgang Pauli.  I can't explain what I just wrote.  I don't remember what grade I got in physics, although I could ask my 12th grade physics teacher, who would no doubt remember it because that man has a mind like a steel trap.  I just remember that I was no science genius, although I started college as a biology major.  It took me three years to realize this was hopeless, so I switched majors just in time to save myself having to even attempt college physics.

The point is that my stomach is too damn small to take on the amount of food intake that full-fledged hunger would generate.  So, we shall see how it all plays out - will I snack and nibble my way back up to a size 28?  I think not. When I gained the weight while on Lyrica, I ate a whole lot of milk chocolate.  I can't do that anymore.  I also can't eat ice cream or cheesecake or tapioca pudding due to a late-blooming dairy sensitivity.  I can't drink alcohol, save an occasional half-glass of wine or half of a cocktail.  I can't drink frappacinos or milkshakes or smoothies.  I can no longer chew certain foods as thoroughly as is needed, so I avoid them. Certain foods don't taste right to me anymore, and this is what happened right after surgery, leading me to agree with my PCP that the gastric bypass somehow kicked in again. And while the endoscopy did not show anything alarming, there is some irritation at a critical juncture, and food is going to get stuck.  Medication takes up too much room, leaving little for food.

Yeah, sometime it sucks being me. Like today, blow-drying my hair: it hurts to stand, it hurts to keep my arms up, for any length of time.  It hurts to stand and put on make-up. Crap.

The good part of the day was dinner out with friends.  We went to Bonefish, which is one of my favorite restaurants, and I ordered mussels. These were delicious, and of course I had leftovers. I love mussels, better than any other bivalve, especially when the recipe involves garlic and white wine, which this one did, along with some kind of onion (possibly shallots), fresh herbs and fresh tomatoes.  I'm in a seafood sort of mood now, and I'm playing with the idea of crawfish étouffée and dirty rice.

Good things from the garden: I perused my garden today, as it was the first day in a while that there was no rain.  Some of the plants are coming back from the rain damage.  The mint plant leaves are almost completely denuded.  But the peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes are flourishing.  Nice. I took pictures with my iPhone, but I'm having trouble transferring them to the iPad. I did some research, and can confirm that the broccoli and carrot seeds are sprouting in good numbers, but they are sort of clumped together in bunches, depending on where they floated to.  I see maybe two onions sprouting, darn it.  These photos are from several days back, after the second day of rain storms.

Lost a zucchini blossom

That eggplant is hanging on for dear life

The exposed roots from the eggplant

Where Can I Purchase a Literary License?

I have a bad habit.  (Just one? Oh girl!)  I am guilty of Excessive Alliteration. (There are also those Chronic Capitalization and Pretentious Paragraphing things, but that's another blog post and possibly intervention-worthy).

While littering is against the law; alliteration is not.  It is simply a literary device of which I am overly fond.  I have a literary license, and I like to use it.  Use of oxymorons is another literary device.  This one is pretty well-known, especially the best known example, "military intelligence."  Good grief.  Oops, that's more alliteration.  As a matter of fact, that's an alliterative oxymoron.  Like happy horsesh*t.  Okay, I've got to stop.  Bad habit.  I don't bite my nails anymore, but that's because I have them burried under acrylic.  I can't bury misuse of literary devices under acrylic. The whole thing is amazingly awful.

Third day on new medication, and I'm feeling sad.  Sadder than I felt yesterday, so it feels like this is another step backward.  Crap, I feel like crap. Which hasn't stopped me from laughing at some of the news.  Like Lebron James flashing his man-bits on national TV. (I'm blaming it on the head wound he got during the game.  They had to glue his head together. Then the Cavaliers lose and he flashes America.) You can't make this stuff up. Then, it turns out the head of the Spokane chapter of the NAACP has been passing - as black.  The media and social network reactions are stranger than the original story.

And the final funny news today was the House Democrats slapping the President upside the head with a wet fish.  Whack!  Which caused one of the commentators at Fox to officially declare the President a lame duck. The CNN headline reads Lame Duck: Democrats Clip President's Wings. Ouch. "The King is dead, long live the ... Queen." Hillary's campaign officially kicks off today. Truly, the last 15 years have been a disaster, Presidentially speaking.  It will be good to have a Clinton in the White House (I can see my husband and all my conservative friends rolling their eyes at me).

The end of the lasagna roll project was too dramatic to simply jump into another culinary undertaking.  Also, there's still lots of food all ready in the fridge, and we are going out to dinner tonight with our friends.

Today is also World Wide Knit in Public Day.  Knitters of the World, unite and flash your needles!  I haven't sat down to knit in a long time due to my inability to sit still and concentrate.  But I am with the knitters in spirit, if not in stitches. (Always alliteration.  Can't stop. This is where I came in. Have a delightful day.)