Sign of the Times - Midnight Tamale

A sign two doors down, sending me a message

Petula Clark was my first.  (Stop dancing off into the gutter, you with the leer on your face.) She sang my first favorite rock song, "Downtown" which I listened to every hour on the hour on the old WMCA-AM radio station in NYC, home of the Good Guys and the Woolyburger (a 1965 version of a Wookiee. Yes, let the Wookiee win.)  Petula also sang "It's a Sign of the Times", the source for my ear worm which came out of my current pissed-off-at-the-President mood, and half a dozen other favorites which I still listen to.  Without a doubt, I am a child of the sixties.  In my sixties, ha.

Petula Clark, Harry Belafonte, and "The Touch" felt around the world, 1968

It's a sign of the times

That your love for me is getting so much stronger

It's a sign of the times

And I know that I won't have to wait much longer

You've changed a lot somehow

From the one I used to know

For when you hold me now

I feel like you never want to let me go

Corner of Rose and Patrick, across from the courthouse

I caught the above photo during one of my strolls, and it pleased me.  I'm not sure whose office building this is, but it did my heart good to see our flag being displayed right out there, upfront where it belongs. 

The American flag should be a sign of respect, but under this pathetic administration, it is not being properly used as a sign of the time.  The President screwed up (AGAIN) and probably insulted at least as many veterans as did Donald Trump when he dragged his feet as to lowering the flag to half-mast in honor of the shooting victims in Chattanooga. Now I've been told by some that it is "contrary to military protocol" to lower the flag - like this president ever cared about military protocol, or the rule of law for that matter. The President has the authority to lower the flag whenever he damn well pleases, and for some reason it did not please him to honor dead servicemen. After being pressured, however, he gave the order, just in time to prevent White House Press Secretary Josh Earnest from expiring from terminal shame and embarrassment.

Now one of the sixties references I am so fond of - are you familiar with the movie "Midnight Cowboy?"  If you're not, perhaps you are too young to be reading this blog.  "Midnight Cowboy" was downright scandalous for its time and place, because when released, it was the first X-rated mainstream movie.  It starred Dustin Hoffman, for crying out loud, and this was only a few years after "The Graduate."  If you are not familiar with "The Graduate", I give up.  Here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.  "Midnight Cowboy" also starred Jon Voight, before he ruined "Mission Impossible" for me forever.  Rest in peace, Jim Phelps.  And also before he donated his genes to a certain Angelina Jolie, who really should treat her father a little better.  If nothing else, then to thank him for his awesome genes. Ungrateful brat.

"Midnight Cowboy" is also glorious proof that we all get older - some, like Dustin Hoffman's co-stars  the late Anne Bancroft and Meryl Streep, are ageless.  Others, like formerly gorgeous Robert Redford and "Cowboy" Jon Voight, not so much, but having said that, I give them credit for putting their aging faces out there without going all Kenny Rogers on them.

I fell into this whole "Midnight Cowboy" train of thought in the middle of last night, when I went downstairs for a snack, and after sharing some chicken with Anakin and Romeo, I started to prepare tamales. Midnight Tamales. From now on, I am going to start all my tamales at midnight.  These were particularly easy and turned out to be ridiculously tasty, and it helped to prepare the filling and set the corn husks to soak the night before.  One thing I did not have to do was prepare the masa, because I used a tube of pre-cooked polenta.  I know, ridiculous, right?

This turned out to be a pantry-buster, because I hadn't been planning to making tamales this week, much less when I walking down the stairs.  I admit that I don't normally stock dried corn husks, but after this I may treat them as a necessity.  The rest of the recipe shall be revealed in the fullness of time - which means tomorrow - because I've run out of energy and my day is done.

Now there's a sign I would love to see.

I have moved one step closer to retirement, as I gather all my forms and such to ship off to the Division of Retirement in Tallahassee.  I am at peace with my decision. I wish I was better at following through in a timely linear fashion, but fibromyalgia continues to scramble my brain.  Filling out forms and following procedures are mostly beyond my abilities. Logic is a foreign concept.

Ack! - Sloppy Jo Comes Home

"Ack" indeed.  Well, that's how I'm feeling this morning - like a "skinny, half-dead Garfield" - and if you don't know who Bill the Cat is, you are too young to be reading this blog.

I made the biscuits this morning, doubling the recipe.  Don't double the recipe; it will be difficult to work with it, although still delicious. Here is the original recipe from the November 21, 2014 blog post and I really encourage you to try it because these biscuits are so good, I want to eat the entire pan.  With one egg.  One medium egg.

This morning's batch of biscuit

I wish that my medication was somehow more efficacious, I really do.  I know that the doctor has told me that only time will bring the desired result, but it seems that I have been waiting forever for something resembling stabilization.  For now my hands shake and my mood swings more than Benny Goodman's band.  After the last five days, Josephine the Plumber has risen to the top of my hit list, right behind Jim the Tech from Bright House Networks. (Relax, these are both imaginary characters.) My Internet connection is for shit, while pots and pans are piling up on the kitchen counter.  This isn't helping my mood, which is no longer swinging but stuck on uber-cranky.

Serve the Sloppy Jo with biscuits, or corn bread, or mac & cheese, or rice,

I also made the Sloppy Josephine - this version being a Spicy, Sexy, Schmaltzy Josephine - and it turn out quite tasty. I recommend serving this on a Sprightly Biscuit, or with some good old fashioned long grain white rice.  Rice is nice, but biscuits are better.  Ack! Alliteration!

He wanted my flip-flops, I gave them to him

Anakin is acting weirder than usual - he was trying to steal my flip-flop right off my foot.  He has a terrible wound on his tail, a good 5 inches along the tail's length.  As best we can tell, and I agree with Robert, his tail got burned while he was sashaying across the cooktop.

He wanted my seat, so I let him have it

It has been healing; today, however, a long scab came free, and he is showing some raw skin which has to be painful.  I found the scab, which was furry on one side (gulp) and I saw the redness which may have involved some surface bleeding.  My poor Ani.

He played the cute card with me, and he won

So I cried for him, and gave him my flip-flops for a while.  Then he decided he wanted to sit in the seat I happened to be using, so I moved.  He seems to be quite comfortable now, and not in pain from his wound.  Me, well I'm comfortable in an alternate seat, but I am always in pain. Damn, spit, and dirty socks.

Time to make friends with Sloppy Josephine.  She's cheap, easy, and no jokes, thank you very much.

1 to 1 1/4 pound ground beef (market beef or ground round)
1 large red bell pepper, large chop
1 large green bell, large chop
(Optional: jalapeno and/or red hot chile pepper)
1 very large onion, chopped
4 or more large garlic cloves, chopped
1 - 14.5 oz. Green Giant corn niblets, drained
1 - 15 oz. can black beans, drained
1 - 15 oz. can light red kidney beans, drained
1 large (about 28 oz.) can Sloppy Joe or Manwich sauce

My spice blend, to taste
Dried oregano, to taste
Sugar
Cayenne pepper, optional
                                 
1/4 cup oil for cooking

Heat about a tablespoon of the oil over medium-high heat and add the beef.  Break up the beef while cooking, with a pastry blender (this works so well).  At the end of cooking, stir in the dried oregano and remove from the heat. Remove the cooked beef to a plate or aluminum pan; use a slotted spoon, and then discard any grease in the pan.  Set aside the beef.  Add the remaining oil to the pan, and heat over a medium-high setting.  Add the bell peppers (and spicy peppers, if using) and onion.  Season with the spice blend, sugar, and cayenne.  Sauté the vegetables until softened.  Add the chopped garlic and continue cooking until the onion starts to caramelize.

Add the cooked beef and stir. Add the the drained beans and corn; stir and adjust seasonings.  Add the Sloppy Joe or Manwich sauce, lower the heat and simmer for about 10 minutes.  And enjoy enjoy enjoy!  This is hearty and wholesome and just plain good.

One Giant Step for Mankind - Monday, Bread and Butter

Almost everybody agrees that "Monday, string beans, all you hungry children, we wish the same to you." Probably my favorite ear worm, dating back to the long distant past of my childhood.  I caught it from my kid brother, who brought it home from early elementary school.  There are countless versions, and I know I've blogged about this before, but I just found this online and almost plotzed - finally, all of the correct words in the correct order, proving that Monday is bread and butter,  not string beans. Guess what I'm eating for breakfast?

Today is Monday,

Today is Monday,
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Tuesday,
Today is Tuesday,
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Wednesday,
Today is Wednesday,
Wednesday soup
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Thursday,
Today is Thursday,
Thursday roast beef
Wednesday soup
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Friday,
Today is Friday,
Friday fish
Thursday roast beef
Wednesday soup
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Saturday,
Today is Saturday,
Saturday payday
Friday fish
Thursday roast beef
Wednesday soup
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Today is Sunday,
Today is Sunday,
Sunday church
Saturday payday
Friday fish
Thursday roast beef
Wednesday soup
Tuesday string beans
Monday bread and butter
All you hungry children,
I wish the same to you.

Needless to say, this version predated Madalyn Murray O'Hair and her pernicious influence on the American public school system.

Because today is Monday I'm having an early morning panic attack and not liking it at all.  Too many things going on that merit concern - Rob's appointment with the audiologist, the possibility that all our cast iron pipes are going to have to be replaced, my upcoming employment hearing - big stuff, all of it.

Incipient Eggplant in my garden

Maybe things would feel better if I had picked a different ear worm.  Or maybe not ... the second verse sums things up splendidly.

Monday, Monday, so good to me
Monday morning, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh, Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening, you would still be here with me

Monday, Monday, can't trust that day
Monday, Monday, sometimes it just turns out that way
Oh, Monday morning, you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh, Monday, Monday, how could you leave and not take me?

I hate Mondays, I really do, damn it.  I am trying to stop the brain fog rolling in and have gotten way off track. This is just supposed to be about bread and butter, and God willing (did you see that, Madalyn?) a rerun of the recipe for Sprightly Southern Biscuits to go with some Sloppy Josephine.  Right now, waiting for the appearance of Son of Josephine the Plumber, I hesitate to start any projects in the kitchen.

Yesterday's chameleon, today's parking lot attendant

I should have never mentioned Madalyn Murray O'Hair on a Monday. My blood is starting to boil, or at least maintaining a steady simmer. Atheists annoy me because they have no respect for non-atheists. If they don't believe in God, so be it.  Don't mock me because I believe in the God of our Fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and of our Mothers, Sarah, Rebecca, Leah and Rachel.  Don't insult me because I was raised to show respect to those who believe differently than me.  Don't pervert the First Amendment so that even a Moment of Silence is forbidden in most classrooms.

Enough.  I have to stop.  I'm supposed to be sweeping the negativity out of my life, but I just allowed it to blow right back in.  Feh. So there will be no mention of Donald Trump, John Mc Cain, nuclear anything, shark attacks, or Bill Cosby.  I will mention that 46 years ago today Neil Armstrong made history when he made that "one small step" on the Lunar surface, but I will stop myself from ranting about the death of our space exploration program.  Stop.  Now.

As it turned out, Son of Josephine did not make it, and probably won't be here before Wednesday.  I did not bake biscuits or prepare the Spicy Josephine - yeah, I've tweaked the recipe a bit, at least in my head - but I did move forward another step in the state disability process, and began work on Social Security.  That's gonna be a whole lotta other blog posts, another time.

The best news I've had all day is that Doctor Who returns to BBC on September 19, 2015.  Something to look forward to besides retirement, old age, and fibromyalgia.                                                                                                                               

Crabby Sunday - Oven Smoked Chicken Lollipops and Bacon Wrapped Corn on the Cob

I sat and watched and waited and hoped the little lizard would turn magenta like my bougainvillea, but no such luck. For sure, he's not getting that job with Valspar.

Just so you know, I've got a headache and an attitude.  There, got that out of the way.

Soak 'em if you got 'em

Look, if you don't have a container of this chicken spice rub in one of your cabinets, your life is much poorer for it.  Mix this up and put it aside - we're smoking lollipops later today.

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

1/2 tablespoon McCormick's dark chili powder

1/2 tablespoon Badia chili powder
1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 tablespoon ground coriander
2 teaspoons garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1 teaspoon ground fennel seed

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon kosher salt

1 tablespoon coarsely ground black pepper

1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper

I post a lot about so-called "invisible diseases" both here and on Facebook because it sucks to have people think you are faking your aching because you don't show traditional marks and scars. Sometimes, it seems that I am one of those people who has trouble  believing that I am always in pain.  I think this is what my cousin Sheryl meant when she said she had fibromyalgia, but she was in denial.

I guess I've been in denial for a few truly precious days, but all good things come to an end.  My back pain has become really awful.  Crippling, you might say. But I am used to that; that's why God created Advil,  The scary thing of late is the pain in my legs and the resulting difficulty in climbing stairs.  The bedrooms and family bathroom are upstairs, naturally.

I'm crabby and I'm agitated and my medication is taking its sweet ass time becoming fully effective.  I finally gave up on being patient with my kitchen sink, and I start cooking.  Handwashing took place in the office bathroom, so I guess I did my exercise walking in the house.  Today was about smoked chicken lollipops and bacon wrapped corn on the cob. I'm still working on timing and temperature, which is annoying me.

Still no Sloppy Josephine. Tomorrow, God willing. And biscuits, I love my biscuits.

Chicken Ood? Ask a Whovian.

Oven-Smoked Chicken Lollipops

These were AWESOME. And adorable.  Having said that, I confused myself on the timing, shuttling back and forth between convection to conventional oven, bottom heat to top only heat sources and changing temperature willy-nilly.  The hardest part of this recipe is creating the lollipop, but it's not that bad, and gets easier as you keep working on them.  This is the page I referred to for general instructions, but you can certainly look elsewhere.  No matter what, you've got to have a very sharp boning knife and heavy duty kitchen shears.

12 chicken legs, frenched (creates the lollipops)
Spice rub, above
Apple wood chips, soaked in water for at least an hour
Top quality barbecue sauce
Wildflower honey

Season the chicken all over with the spice rub.  Cover with foil and refrigerate for 1 to 2 hours. When you are ready to start smoking, preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Add the drained wood chips to the bottom of a 9 by 13 aluminum baking dish.

Set the chicken lollipops into an aluminum veggie grill pan (perforated) and then place it on top of the wood chips.

Cover this with an upside-down aluminum pan, and use a very large piece of heavy duty aluminum foil to wrap and enclose everything so that the smoke will remain inside with the chicken.  Set this inside the preheated oven (the heat source has to be on the bottom).

Now here's where things get dicey because I was experimenting with time and temperature.  But what I should have done at this point is to leave the oven on this high heat for 30 to 45 minutes, and then without opening the oven door, lowering the temperature to between 235 and 250 degrees and let the chicken continue to cook another few hours, checked the internal temperature after the first 2 hours, then letting the chicken cook till finished with an internal temperature of about 170 degrees.  I did the whole thing backwards and never really got the smoke production I was hoping for.  In spite of that, the smoke was light and very pleasant.  Next time, hopefully a little more smoke.

To finish these lovely lollipops, remove the foil and top pan, and raise the oven temperature to 350 degrees. While the oven is preheating, brush the chicken with barbecue sauce (I used Jimmy Bear's) and then drizzle with the honey.  Place back in the oven, uncovered, for 5 to 10 minutes, just enough time to develop a glaze.

In the Oven Bacon-Wrapped Corn on the Cob

This is easy but aggravating, because I left the husk on the cob, like I would if I was preparing it on the gas grill.  That confused my timing, so I have nothing definitive to pass on to you, except for my "next time."

Next time, I may or may not soak the corn in water and sugar, after removing the husk and of course, the silk. Then I will wrap each ear of corn with 2 pieces of bacon and sprinkle with my favorite seasoning-of-the-moment.  Next I will cook the corn under the broiler, turning so that the bacon cooks on all sides. When done, I will brush each ear of corn with a little melted butter on all sides, and sprinkle on a bit more seasoning (I used Emeril's Essence) and sugar.

I would suggest you google various methods for cooking this in the oven, but this gives you a basic idea.

(Don't even ask what I did, as I overcomplicated what should be a simple but really tasty side dish.)

This popped up on Facebook just as I was finishing up today's post. Timing, eh?

WTF, It's Saturday, Sad To Say No Chicken Lollipops Today

The morning walk through my northern exposure

I've always liked the character of Lady Macbeth.  Now that may seem a bit cold, given the terrible things she set into motion, but you can't deny that she was irresistible in a pathological kind of way.  If your high school English curriculum did not included at least one Shakespeare play each year, I pity you. There is much of human nature there, that even as a callow youth I could take to heart and appreciate. Which is why I took Shakespeare at the college level, which caused me to read seven tragedies and seven comedies during the course of the semester.  Those were good days at a bad university.

The "Three Witches" from the Sisterhood of Karn

Macbeth was one of my early literary acquisitions, my third Shakespeare play, studied in my junior year of high school.  I much preferred the tragedies, which is not an odd statement from someone who has been depressed since 1957.  What stuck with me from Macbeth was not the Three Witches (although they were my first thought at the appearance of the Sisterhood of Karn in a mini-episode of "Doctor Who") but Lady Macbeth's obsessive hand washing. 

Doctor:
What is it she does now? Look how she rubs her hands.

Gentlewoman:
It is an accustom'd action with her, to seem thus
washing her hands. I have known her continue in this a quarter of
an hour.

Lady Macbeth:
Yet here's a spot.

Doctor:
Hark, she speaks. I will set down what comes from her, to
satisfy my remembrance the more strongly.

Lady Macbeth:
Out, damn'd spot! out, I say!—One; two: why, then
'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky.—Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and
afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our
pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to
have had so much blood in him?

Macbeth Act 5, scene 1, 26–40

Over the years, I have developed what I call my "Lady Macbeth Hand Washing Thing" which has nothing to do with murder, guilt, or madness, but everything to do with chicken, egg wash, and meatballs.  When I cook, which is, as you know, shockingly frequent, I cannot stand the feeling of anything on my hands.  I am one of those cooks who believes that the best utensils are at the end of my wrists, like a socially acceptable Edward Scissorhands.  I have no problem using my hands to do everything short of whipping cream, but I have to be able to wash them with plenty of hand soap or dishwashing liquid and copious amounts of very hot water after each stage in the process.

Tomatoes and okra, eventually

Today's cooking problem has to do with our recalcitrant kitchen plumbing.  My ability to wash my hands, as long and as often as I will need to, has been completely compromised.  Anything I do will only add to the mess that has been building up since Thursday.

What I had planned was nothing short of OCD-handwashing-inducing. CHICKEN LOLLIPOPS. Smoked in my oven. (Hey, the temperature hasn't gone below 95 in several weeks. If you want to stand over a smoking hot gas grill for a couple of hours, be my guest.)  Fried pickle spears.  Bacon-wrapped corn on the cob.  Sloppy Josephine.  Sprightly Southern Biscuits.

SSSSSMOKIN' chips

Perhaps this is all just as well.  For the third day in a row, I am in all-over back and leg pain.  My left arm looks like it got caught in a meat-mangler. Standing to cook and wash hands is probably more than I should be doing. I guess I knew that when I went out early this morning to peruse and plan my garden, and I tired out from walking around the corner.  And I live on the corner.

Yes. I broke the board with my elbow, before the Dark Times, before the Fibromyalgia

But I've also got this hyperactivity thing - I've got a lot of things - and sitting still is not something I do well.  (You can only imagine what a joy it was to sit for the bar exam in 1991.)  The boys are both at a martial arts event, which left be alone with Woodrow, Chelsea, Indiana, Romeo, and Anakin.  You may ask how someone can be alone with that many pets, but they nap all day and I don't. So I did a bit of shopping (today, not in 1991) to pick up the remaining ingredients for the Sloppy Josephine, and that wore me out like a fast-paced taekwando belt testing with Senior Master.

Some of the ingredients for Sloppy Josephine

                 

Sloppy Josephine is the result of a culinary ménage a trois between Sloppy Joe and my recipes for Chili and Argentinian Beef Sauté, and has nothing to do with Josephine the Plumber.  As I've been working on this post throughout the day, I was absolutely certain I had published it previously, but no such luck. I'm going to have to type this puppy from scratch.  Tomorrow.

Josephine the Plumber

I Haven't Got Time For The Pain - Tortelloni with Roasted Grape Tomatoes

A little over a week ago, I was using the Internet to research methods of committing suicide.  Today, I was using the Internet to research methods of growing cucumbers.  I have to conclude that things are looking up.

For the first time in a number of days, I was able to spend some time in my garden.  Between the multiple daily rain storms, doctor's appointments, and suicidal ideation, I had neglected my little patch of vegetable heaven. Some of the plants benefitted by being left to the elements for a little while, but others are in need of a little clean up.  Maybe a lot of clean up.  Gotta put in some cones to support the tomato plants and okra and some sort of trellis for the bougainvillea and cucumber.  Lots of weeding, but that's going to have to wait until my back gets over whatever is making it cranky.  This is the worst back pain I've had for a while, and my doctor doesn't run a pill mill, thank God, so there's going to be some suffering.  And an ear worm:

Suffering was the only thing that made me feel I was alive
Though that's just how much it cost to survive in this world
'til you showed me how, how to fill my heart with love
How to open up and drink in all that white light
Pouring down from the heaven
I haven't got time for the pain ...

Maybe I should take an Advil.

I cooked because the grape tomatoes were approaching the End of Times, and you know how I hate to waste food.  I'm glad I did.

Sweet Italian Sausage Tortelloni with Peas and Roasted Grape Tomatoes

2 1/2 pints of grape tomatoes (about 5 cups) - for the best flavor, mix the colors - I used red and orange grape tomatoes
5 cloves of fresh garlic, smashed and sliced
My seasoning salt, to taste
herbes de provence, to taste
granulated sugar, to taste
cayenne pepper, to taste
4 tablespoons of garlic olive oil (more as needed)
1 stick of butter

2 - 9 oz. packages fresh tortelloni (I used Buitoni sweet Italian sausage) cooked according to package directions
1 - 15 oz package frozen steam-in-the-bag green peas, cooked according to package directions

4 basil leaves, cut into chiffonade
grated Romano and/or Parmesan

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.  Place the tomatoes in a single layer in a 9 x 13 aluminum baking pan.  Drizzle the tomatoes with the olive oil, and then add some seasoning salt, herbes de provence, sugar and cayenne pepper.  Place into the preheated oven and roast for 30 minutes.  The tomatoes should have released a good part of their juices and appear somewhat wrinkled but not dried out.  Stir around so that the garlic doesn't stick and burn.  Add the stick of butter and return to the oven for another 15 to 20 minutes.  Taste and reseason.  Add about three-quarters of the cooked tortelloni right into the pan with the tomatoes, then between 1/2 to 1 cup of the peas, and stir to combine.  Finish with the basil chiffonade and cheese. 

The kitchen sink is, inexplicably, as backed up as the eastbound Long Island Expressway on a Friday afternoon in July.  The bad news is that the 90-year old plumbing is being stubbornly resistance to all of Robert's attempts to commit chemical warfare on pipes that are older than he is.  The really bad news is that this is likely going to necessitate an expensive call to Josephine the Plumber, a nice lady who likes to get paid for any work she does.  I don't blame her.  I blame the pipes.