Thursday, September 10, 2015

More MEEEEEEMES! - The Happy Hermit Cookies

Memes.You gotta love them. Some really funny ones have popped up on Facebook, poking fun at Kentucky Clerk Kim Davis, the newest martyr to the cause of sexual preference discrimination.

In Osceola County, home of the best bass-fishing lake in the state, this might cause a riot

Just think of the possibilities

Fabulous!!! (You do know that Gillian Anderson is gay?)

And of course, my personal favorite

The mystery of the Leggy Azaleas from yesterday's post was solved by my good friend and former coworker Linda Saez, faster than you can say "mirabilis jalapa", which happens to be its official taxonomic  name. These are Four o' clock flowers, also known as the Marvel of Peru. 


They are easily grown from seed, and I can see working them into some of my flower beds.  They come in a multitude of colors, although I have to say I am partial to magenta. Thanks, Linda!

I suppose there are a number of tasks I could turn my hand to today - that upstairs hallway isn't going to get done by itself, you know - but having had a couple of decent days and not wanting to push my luck, and taking into consideration that I am going to be sitting in the car for long periods of time later today, I am going to take it easy on myself and limit activity to blogging and baking. And cleaning up after my tiny terrors. I mean terriers.  They are paper-trained, except for Chelsea who pees to the beat of her own drummer, and there are always strategically-placed pads available for their use, but sometimes they miss. Other times they get forgetful, or spiteful or even a tad snarky. Every morning is a new adventure.

I decided to bake Hermit Cookies, a favorite of mine.  It's an old-timey recipe and all cookie bakers know it and have some version they will swear is the best hermit cookie recipe anywhere.  Mine is from the 1973 edition of the Joy of Cooking, which means it really is the best hermit cookie recipe anywhere. 


This version, which I came across while teaching myself to cook by reading the Joy of Cooking cover-to-cover, caught my eye because it includes sour cream and coconut, two of my favorite ingredients. When I started baking these back in 1974, I did make one change from the original, substituting allspice for the ground cloves, one of the very few spices Robert does not care for.  Today, as a nod to the 21st century, I have upped the ante by using a better grade of cinnamon, from Vietnam (I can assure you that in 1974 we were not sourcing cinnamon from Vietnam), adding a small amount of baking powder to work with the baking soda (and you have to use baking soda with an acidic ingredient like sour cream) and using a silpat instead of greasing the baking sheet.  I've also set the batter into the fridge to chill out a bit, mainly because I use a scoop now (scoops are cool) to form the cookies, and that always works better if the batter is chilled.


Back in the day, when I first realized how much I loved to feed other people, I would bake something on the order of 50 dozen cookies which I would start in September to bring in for Christmas breakfast in the office.  The late seventies were tasty times for people who worked for Alexander & Alexander on the 34th floor at 1185 Avenue of the Americas. People who didn't really know me knew my cookies.  I still go on cookie-baking binges, albeit not frequently - my last binge was in 2005 - but the quantity and variety remain memorable.

Fold 'em, fold 'em, fold 'em, keep those raisins movin', rawhide ... 

Enjoy the cookies. And the ear worm.

Hermit Cookies from The Happy Hermit

1 stick butter, softened
1 cup brown sugar
1 extra large egg
1/2 cup sour cream
1 1/3 cup sifted flour
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup raisins
1/4 cup chopped nuts (any one or combination)
1/4 cup shredded coconut (I chop the shreds a bit)


Cream together the butter and sugar.  Beat in the egg and the sour cream.  In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, baking powder and spice.  Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in thirds, beating well after each addition.   Fold in the raisins, nuts, and coconut.  Cover and refrigerate for at least an hour.


Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. With a medium cookie scoop, portion 12 cookies on a baking sheet, either greased, sprayed, or silpatted.  These cookies spread quite a bit, so do not place them closely together, and do not try to fit more than 12 cookies at a time.


Bake for 13 to 15 minutes. Remove the cookies from the oven and let them sit on the baking sheet for an additional 5 minutes. with a spatula remove them to a wire rack to finish cooling.  


I think I should rename these "Lady Hermit Cookies" as they are more delicate than the hearty versions those Cape Cod sailing wives would pack up for their men heading out to sea. As delicious as ever.

Wednesday, September 9, 2015

An Appealing Proposition: Now It Begins - Jewish Sweet and Sour Meatballs

Yesterday was about architecture, today is about horticulture. First, can anyone help me identify this pretty plant?  Besides resembling a leggy azalea, those little magenta flowers give off a delicious scent.

Towards evening the flowers close up

Ready for a good night's sleep

They are so pretty, next to the plumbago

If you happen to know what they are called, please let me know.  Thanks!


I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree. - Joyce Kilmer


I love trees, especially our big gorgeous 120-year old trees, and I love this poem.  And that's the end of today's horticulture lesson, except to remind you that you don't have to hug a tree to love a tree.




The State of Florida's Division of Retirement, in its infinite wisdom, politely advised me of its intention to decline my application for disability retirement, but offered the opportunity to present additional information before a final decision is made. Of course this coincided with one of my providers going out on a two week vacation, which is causing a bit of a time crunch, but I'm working on getting his input, as well as some updated info from the others.  Truthfully this is very frustrating - why are medical doctors so reluctant to commit the fact of total disability to paper?  They will verbalize to me that clearly, I cannot return to work in the near or even far future (remember my age), but when it comes to filling out forms, they start hedging their bets.  I suspect that they do not want to be perceived by any government agency as helping to perpetrate a fraud.  I get that and respect the position they are in.

I could just throw up my hands and change my application status to just retirement, but I really am permanently disabled (put me back in a courtroom and see how long it takes for my mental acuity to dissolve along with my ability to stand on my feet for hours), and I still have to deal with this issue in my application for Social Security disability.  State AND Federal - I feel like the Queen of Red Tape.

I will follow up with whatever additional documentation I can obtain, and leave in the hands of the state. Yeah, I know - I'm screwed.  At least I tried.  I also spent close to an hour on the phone today with a staff member at the agency that is helping me deal with the social security disability filing, a whole different ballgame. For one thing, my doctors are not put in the uncomfortable position of having to render an opinion on whether I am personally disabled.  That decision is made by whoever is tapped to review the medical records, and those records can include anyone who has treated me in some way for the conditions underlying the disability (and I had quite a list).  So, we shall see ...

Medication Madness: Now on the fourth medication prescribed to address my depression and anxiety, I am finally seeing (or feeling) some positive results. Or at least I thought I was. Probably I am. The depression and anxiety have abated somewhat, although I can feel them hovering pretty close to the surface. This is just this past week - four days, maybe, after a month on the oddly named Fetzima, which is a good name for a belly dancer, but an antidepressive?  So, as they say, the jury is out on this one. Time will tell ... what? Time will tell what? Some cliches are even boring to me, and I admit my writings are cliche-ridden even on a good day.

Anyway, my doctor asked if I have any side effects from the Fetzima, and so far I don't except I'm feeling a bit snarky and I've turned into a motormouth.  Also, the filters are gone, which means if someone annoys me, I may respond in kind and throw in an elbow strike for good measure.  (No, I'm not going to court to deliver some frontier justice, so stop asking me.)  This is a sort of weird side effect, because sometimes it feels like I am floating in the air, giddy as a schoolgirl, but that never lasts and I always return to earth with a bit of a crash.  Mini Mood Disorder?  Lucky me.

I was going to write a rant about basic personal modesty, breast-feeding in public, and when body-shaming is not necessarily a bad thing, but I need to give that more thought. I am not cooking today, as it is the last thing I need to do - besides having an inordinate amount of cooked food in the fridge, my entire back hurts, with my lower back feeling like it's on fire - but feeling guilty, I am recycling a recipe from 2011, from back in the day I maintained separate but related blogs for discussion and for recipes. This one is fun and easy, and you've probably seen it or eaten it sometime in the past.



From June 13,  2011 "It's All About the Food" - Jewish Sweet and Sour Meatballs

If you are Jewish, chances are you have eaten these, especially around Rosh Hashona.  Don't turn up your nose at the ingredients - it works.  This is my version of the dish, and you will notice there is no grated onion in the meatballs.  You don't need it for this dish, and who wants to grate an onion on a weeknight?

Meatballs

1 3/4 pounds lean ground beef
1 egg
cornflake crumbs (about 1/2 -3/4 cup)
kosher salt, pepper, granulated garlic, onion powder, Emeril's Essence

Mix everything together and make 15 meatballs from the mixture.  Put in a baking pan and bake at 350 degrees for 15 minutes, or just until the meatballs start to firm up.  They will finish cooking in the sauce.

Jewish Sweet and Sour Sauce

3 - 12 oz. bottles of Heinz chili sauce
1 - 18 oz. jar of Welch's grape jelly
juice of half a lemon (or more to taste)
2 shots of Worcestershire sauce
2 drops of Tabasco sauce (or more to taste)
kosher salt, black pepper, granulated garlic, Emeril's Essence - all to taste
2 handfuls of raisins

Empty the chili sauce into a medium deep pot or Dutch oven.  I like to put a little water in each jar, and shake to get all of the sauce on the sides, then add it into the sauce in the pot.  Then take about half of the jelly and add it to the sauce.  On medium to medium- high heat, bring the sauce to a simmer so that the jelly melts.  Add the remaining ingredients.  Taste and add more of the grape jelly if you like to get the right balance of sweet and sour.  I add about half of what is left in the jar.

Carefully add the meatballs to the sauce.  Cover the pot and simmer for 1 1/2 hours.  Serve alone, with challah, or over rice.

The color is off a bit - should be closer to a cranberry color - but the taste is delicious, and a nice change from meatballs in Italian red sauce.  Very easy to make and they will taste even better the next day.

Please enjoy  ;-)

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

A Walkabout Among Kissimmee Architecture - Creamy Pine Nut Chicken

Today is still Labor Day and I'm playing catch up with the blog posts.  I'm also trying to work my way through tasks on my list, and while I've made good progress on the cooking projects, the cleaning projects are another matter.  I feel like I am a full half day behind myself, and that is resulting in a small but definite panic attack.

In yesterday's blog post I made a brief trip past Lawrence High School in Cedarhurst, my educational home for four mostly happy years.  While doing a bit of googling on my old stomping grounds, I discovered that my alma mater has a school motto.  I don't remember a school motto, so it must be a more recent innovation, but when I read it, it gave me definite pause: "Vestigia Nulla Retrorsum" literally, "I never retrace my steps" or "No Stepping Back". Ha! The course of my entire life might have been different if it had been subject to that train of thought, said the woman who remarried her first husband. (Unlike Kentucky Clerk Kim Davis, I've been married only twice, and both times to the same husband.)



Less specifically, I take it to mean "don't dwell on the past", or maybe "don't make the same stupid mistakes."  Certainly my remarriage was the farthest thing from a stupid mistake.  But I do tend to dwell on the past, excessively, obsessively, and that leads to panic attacks and getting stuck on stupid - I should say stuck on "Stop".  Sometimes I get so wrapped up in what I haven't accomplished in the proper linear order that I can only look backwards, which just compounds the problem. That's what I am trying to avoid today, this Labor Day.  Move forward and keep moving.

I set one task for myself for today, which was to clean and set up the upstairs hallway.  As soon as I came downstairs, I realized there were two or three important things ahead of it, which meant I might not get to it, which sent me spiraling into an anxiety attack.  Crap. 



But I take heart from the completion of those other tasks which were just as important, and much more immediate, and that thought helps me beat the panic back down where it belongs. And there's always tomorrow; it's not like the upstairs hallway is going to disappear by falling into the time-space continuum. Besides, Cory made progress on moving a few things from the hallway, which makes my job much easier.


Whatever you do, DON'T BLINK!

So as the afternoon shadows grew long and my energy level grew short, I gave up on the hallway and went on a walkabout. My daily walk is critical to my health - I get up, I get out, I breathe reasonably clean air. I listen to music, I admire the landscape and architecture, and I think. Bipedal meditation. I have to use my cane, and my speed walking days are over, but that little bit of exercise is officially my daily cardio.  It's all I can do and I'm doing it.


The Weeping Angel of Kissimmee

I altered my route slightly and got photos of some of my favorite places. These buildings, which are behind the new courthouse, are off the beaten path and if you don't know they are there, you will miss them altogether.  Prior to 2000, there was nothing but a badly-paved parking lot with enormous trees where the courthouse now stands, and the objects of my architectural affection were easily visible, but now, tucked between the back of the courthouse and the railroad tracks they are the purview of seekers of the arcane. Like me.

The Weeping Angel spends her days in front of this absolutely fabulous building on Vernon Avenue -

- which happens to be a lovingly restored home turned into a law office.

A goodly number of the homes in the area, including mine, have housed law firms at one time or another, although I'm not sure of the ratio of law office to private home.


Many private homes are well-maintained -

- some not so much, although this house is architecturally incredible -

- or not at all, although this may be a forgotten victim of Hurricane Charley.


This one was a law office when I first saw it; now it is a residence. To its left is a law office. Across the street is the Weeping Angel law office. We are nothing if not "mixed use" zoning in Historic Downtown Kissimmee, which in my opinion is one of the things that makes this area so charming.


This fantastic wreck - literally on the wrong side of the tracks on Vernon Avenue - has a twin that is a law office. Although the beautifully restored and maintained twin building fronts on Emmett Street, it sits on the corner of - you guessed it - Vernon Avenue. It's no mistake that before the new courthouse was built and Courthouse Square created, the old courthouse address was 12 South Vernon Avenue.

And we could park, in precious 1-hour spots, right in front of the courthouse.

One of these days, I'm going to get brave enough to cross Emmett Street on one of my walks, to check out the great buildings on that side.  But, that is another blog post. I hope you enjoyed this walkabout.

This recipe is inspired by James Nair's Creamy Almond Chicken recipe, from his cookbook called, appropriately, Chicken. I don't remember the year of publication, but I do remember typing the recipe into my personal collection in 1990. It's a neat little book.

Mr. McNair's recipe called for 12 oz. of fettuccine, cooked, and some pesto sauce and/or spaghetti sauce for serving.  I love pasta, but it always soaks up way too much of whatever sauce I've prepared, so I tried this with a layer of some of my favorite vegetables instead.

Creamy Pine Nut Chicken

1 stick butter, melted
2 teaspoons celery salt
1 1/2 teaspoon oregano
2 teaspoon paprika
1 1/2 teaspoon curry powder
kosher salt
ground black pepper
2 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts (3 large breasts)
flour
1/4 cup pine nuts
1 1/2 cup half and half
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup sherry

Cut the chicken in half, horizontally, to make 6 thinner cutlets. Combine the butter, celery salt, oregano, paprika and curry powder, and add salt and pepper to taste.  Set aside.  Dredge the chicken in flour, then roll in the flavored butter.  Arrange the chicken pieces in a baking pan. Scatter the pine nuts over the chicken, and then pour the half and half over the top.  Cover the pan with foil and bake in a 350 degree oven for 50 minutes.

Arrange the cooked chicken on top of the vegetables.  Add the sour cream and sherry to all of the cooking liquid from the chicken and whisk together until smooth. Pour this mixture over the chicken (try not to dislodge the pine nuts) and bake uncovered until tender, 15 to 30 minutes more.  Baste the chicken once during this time.  Serve with the vegetables.  If you have extra sauce, you can ladle it over a small side of pasta or rice.  Or egg noodles which go great with a creamy sauce.


Vegetable Layer - Prepare this before the chicken:
1 - 10 oz. package frozen broccoli spears, defrosted and partially cooked (about 4-5 minutes in the microwave is more than enough)
1 Japanese eggplant, sliced thin
1 yellow bell pepper cut into strips
1 shallot, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 pound white button mushrooms, sliced

In a deep baking dish arrange the broccoli spears, then sprinkle with some kosher salt and black pepper. In a skillet, heat a few tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil.  Add the eggplant in a single layer and fry over medium-high heat until just a bit brown and crispy on both sides.  With a slotted spoon, remove from the skillet and spread over the broccoli.  Add the peppers to the skillet and cook for a minute or two.  Add the shallot and garlic and cook another few minutes, just until the garlic is fragrant. Be careful not to burn the garlic.


Lower the burner heat to medium.  Add the butter to the skillet, and then add the sliced mushrooms. Cook for 10 minutes or until the liquid released by the mushrooms has evaporated and the butter is mostly absorbed.  Spoon the cooked mushrooms over the other vegetables, and then set aside this baking pan.

The finished dish, combining vegetable with chicken

Monday, September 7, 2015

The Rain in Spain - I Did Them My Way Clam Cakes

Today is Labor Day, a rite of passage holiday always symbolic of new beginnings.  For us New Yorkers, the official end of summer and beginning of a new school year; for many of us, the start of a new job (I think I mentioned that I had started half the jobs of my life the day after Labor Day); for those of us who are Jewish, a reminder of the period of introspection that is represented by the Days of Awe and our upcoming New Year; for all us baby boomers, the requirement to sit respectfully and watch the entire Jerry Lewish Muscular Dystrophy Telethon; and for me personally the thirty-third anniversary of The Collapse of the Living Room Ceiling at my parent's house on Daniel Street, which occurred during, you guessed it, the Jerry Lewis Telethon. Why this sticks in my head - besides the mess, which was normally never tolerated in that sterile house - was that just as all the sheetrock came crashing down onto my mother's pristine orange carpet, the phone rang for me. It was one of my Lawrence High School classmates, a young man I'd been kind of sweet on, and I had to give him the bum's rush to get off the phone and help with the ceiling post-mortem. Knowing how I was back then, I probably gave him some flippant, disjointed, self-important explanation that failed to convey my delight at his call and my regret at having to cut him short.  Since I was leaving for my sophomore year at New Paltz the next day, I would not be able to easily receive or make a return call, and so we did not speak again. Ever. I told you I was my own worst enemy.  I'm pretty sure he did not attend our  high school's 20th reunion, and I did not attend the 25th, 30th, or 40th.  I'm not even sure there was a 30th, but if there was, I wasn't there. Ah youth!  Not only wasted on the young, but positively misspent and squandered.


While Al Gore and Mark Zuckerberg made it possible for me to reconnect with a great number of Lawrence graduates, he was unfortunately not one of them.  Wherever you are, Richard Nilsson, I hope you are well and enjoying a wonderful life. Sorry for being so abrupt with you on Labor Day 1971, but my social skills were pretty darn shaky back then. (They are a little better now, if you discount my tendency to live like a 21st century hermit.)


Sunday - Yesterday was Clam Fail 2.0, but I am determining to overcome the damn clam.  We shall overclam? Actually, I am beginning to wonder if this is all about the pan, rather than all about the clam.

I was preparing to publish a successful recipe, including photos of the GBD (golden brown and delicious) clam cakes when the unthinkable happened yet again.  While frying gently, the clam cake began to disintegrate, so that all the lovely potato-clam filling slid noisily into popping oil, leaving a crispy panko shell behind. I really could not figure out why, and it was late, so I covered the clam mixture and shoved it none too graciously in the refrigerator for an overnight rest.  

This morning, as I approached the refrigerator, it occurred to me that maybe this had nothing to do with the recipe, which should have worked, and everything to do about my used of a cast iron pan.  I admit to grasping at straws, but in any event, I pulled out a nice heavy nonstick skillet and started heating up more canola oil. I also decided not to try to coat the outside with crumbs or flour; the potato-clam mixture is fragile, even after a sleepover in the fridge, and I was hoping that the less I handled it, the more likely the success. 

Here's your ear worm, duckies - "The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain ... by George, she's got it!" Yep, I got it.

So - they held together just fine - the texture is beyond delicate; I wish I could have used the panko, but these little cakes could not have withstood the additional handling. As it is, I had to remove them from the frying pan after the initial browning so that they could be finished in the oven.  Timing is critical, both in the skillet and in the oven.  The flavor is absolutely wonderful, and I really consider these clam cakes to be a great success.  You taste each and every element.  If food could sing, this would be a perfect harmony.

There happens to be a recipe for an accompanying sauce in The Nero Wolfe Cookbook, but I keep vacillating as to whether I should prepare it. It's easy enough, and I have the ingredients at hand.  It may depend on which chicken recipe I decide to prepare, as I don't want to overly-replicate creamy textures and dairy-based sauces. 

Hello, my back is breaking. Breaking bad. Badly. I've decided on the chicken recipe - and it does eliminate the clam cake sauce from the menu - but I am going to have to wait before I do any more standing. The Creamy Chicken with Pine Nuts is, as they say, another day another blog post.

I Did Them My Way Clam Cakes

4-6.5 oz. cans minced clams, drained (keep the clam juice for another recipe; I froze mine)
4 large potatoes
1/2 cup cream
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons finely minced shallot
1 teaspoon parsley flakes
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay Seasoning
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon dried marjoram
dash of cayenne pepper
2 extra large eggs
1 cup all-purpose flour
Canola oil for frying

Prepare mashed potatoes from the potatoes, cream and butter.  Use a hand masher, but do try to eliminate lumps.  Add in the clams and the remaining ingredients, up to and including the cayenne pepper.  Set aside to cool to room temperature.



Whisk the eggs until frothy, then stir them into the room temperature potato mixture until fully incorporated.  Add the flour, stir well, cover and refrigerate overnight.



The next day, heat the canola oil in a large non-stick skillet.  Using an ice cream scoop (the type with the lever to release the contents) carefully place three scoopfuls into the hot oil.  Let them cook, undisturbed until the bottom is lightly browned and crispy.  Now, very carefully turn over each clam cake and ever-so-gently press down with your spatula just barely enough to flatten the side against the pan.  Cook undisturbed until that side is also lightly browned and crispy.  Move each clam cake to an aluminum baking dish.  Repeat until all are done; you will have between 24 and 26 clam cakes.  Place the baking pans into a 350 degree oven for 15 to 30 minutes, until the clam cakes are hot inside.  Serve immediately.



Commercial accompaniments can include Kraft Horseradish Sauce, McCormick or Hellmann's Tartar Sauce, or McCormick's Cocktail Sauce. A couple of tomatoes from my garden wouldn't hurt either.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

It's a Clam Cake Kind of Day

Jedi Knight Knits. Nice.

The nicest thing happened to me yesterday evening.  Me and my cat-cane took my walk rather late - the sun was starting to set - so I headed down to the courthouse where the street is well-lit. Just as I crossed the street to turn and head home, a car pulled over, a window rolled down, and there was my CLS supervisor, with a big smile, a bigger hug, and bearing gifts. It seems she was heading to my house on her way home, to drop off the gift bag, and there I was. It was such a lovely surprise; I told you I worked with really nice people, didn't I?

When I opened the gift, I was touched and thrilled.


Yes, that is a coloring book, but not just any coloring book. This is a book for "experienced colorists" which is fancy way of saying it is for grown-ups who finally learned how to color inside the lines.  It seems there is an adult coloring book craze out there, that I was slightly aware of, and of which I wholeheartedly approved.  Why? Well, think back to the last time you wielded a crayon - for me, that's about 55 years - and try to remember how much fun and how relaxing it was. Think about that time you were in a restaurant that provides crayons for kids to divert their attention from the fact that it is taking 30 minutes for those chicken nuggets to arrive, and you found your fingers itching to pick up your favorite color and scribble along. Ha!  I knew it!

I immediately pulled out the colored pencils she had thoughtfully included, and started to work.  I figure when It is all done, I can give it to Cory to hang on the refrigerator door. I already have the perfect magnet picked out. Thank you, Raquel, this was truly the perfect gift.


That was the good news.  The bad news is that our clothes dryer caught on fire, almost taking Cory's best taekwando uniform with it. Damn.

As you probably know, we are a Fox News type of family.  We evolved over the years, from CNN and MSNBC to Fox. Yeah, I know. Surprised me too.  There are a few things I don't like about Fox - the childish snarkiness that slips out from otherwise terrific reporters like Ed Henry and even Bret Baier of "Special Report" every so often when discussing a Democratic candidate, and the way that all but a very few of the women commentators are dressed, coifed, and made up to look like a bunch of busty Stepford Wives (the notable exception being Greta Van Susteren, who is allowed to wear slacks, sensible shoes, and her own hair).

What galls me is that these are all extremely intelligent and well-spoken women who don't need to dress up to be listened to.  If I close my eyes during "The Five", Kimberly Guilfoyle is the voice of conservative reason and I really enjoy listening to her.  If I make the mistake of opening my eyes I see a highly-rouged bimbo in a tight dress with a ridiculously short skirt and plunging neck line.  She always sits at the end, out in the open, swinging one leg over the other while showing off 5 inch heels.  All she needs is chewing gum to complete the picture.


When K.G. is not there, her spot is often filled by Andrea Tantaros, wearing the same wig, the same dress, and the same dominatrix heels, swinging her leg with that same come-hither attitude that detracts from her obvious intelligence.

There must be Female Fox uniform that includes an overly-snug sheath dress with or without sleeves (and sleeveless without a jacket is cheesy, in my opinion) and one of two identically-styled wigs, one blonde and one brunette.  You know which hairstyle I mean - overly thick and glossy, side-parted, impossibly long and perfectly curled on the sides and ends.  Even Judge Jeanine Pirro, looking good at age 64 (I wish I looked that good) has taken to wearing sleeveless sheaths with plunging necklines that would do BeyoncĂ© proud.


What caused this rant was the appearance of Meghan McCain on "The Five" last night.  Ms. McCain, the daughter of Senator John McCain, was in standard Female Fox uniform, and she was wearing The  Blonde Wig. (Actually it was her own hair, painstakingly styled to look like The Blonde Wig.)  It would have been funny if The Blonde Wig hadn't already appeared on the heads of guests on the Sunday news programs.  Instead, it bordered on the pathetic. Ms. McCain should also steer clear of the too-tight sheath. Dana Perino, former Bush White House Press Secretary, is the only one who can get away with it, which is why they always seat her behind the table.


If Fox wants the female news contributors and commentators to be taken seriously, they need to drop the Long Island Hooker look, starting with taking a chisel to Kimberly Guilfoyle's face make-up. The men are allowed to look normally well-groomed and mature; why not the women?

Okay, that was silly.  Even a bit petty on my part. Downright catty, you might say. Tomorrow I'll go back to picking on Donald Trump's hair or Geraldo Rivera's mustache or even Bret Baier's tie.


But now, finally, clam cakes.  I had the recipe from The Nero Wolfe Cookbook, and I could see right away it was going to hold together much better than my clam croquettes had.  Like a vegetarian cutlet from Ratner's, the starch factor in these clam cakes comes from mashed potatoes, which are generously enriched with heavy cream and butter. Where I deviated from the cookbook was in using canned clams - four cans will give you the 1 1/2 cups of minced clams called for by the recipe - and by amping up the spice ratio quite a bit to broaden the flavor without masking the clams. I also did some other stuff that had worked for me in other recipes, like the Latknishes.

Most of the recipes in this cookbook seem to me to be somewhat under seasoned, at least by today's standards.  Considering that the majority of the Nero Wolfe mysteries were published pre-World War II, and the first version of the cookbook came out in the seventies, that was probably to be expected. But you know me, I had to do it my way.

I Did Them My Way Clam Cakes

4-6.5 oz. cans minced clams, drained (keep the clam juice for another recipe; I froze mine)
4 large potatoes
1/2 cup cream
4 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons finely minced shallot
1 teaspoon parsley flakes
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay Seasoning
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon white pepper
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon dried marjoram
dash of cayenne pepper
2 extra large eggs
1 cup all-purpose flour
panko bread crumbs for breading (4C brand seasoned panko)
Canola oil for frying


Oh, for crying out loud!


To Be Continued ...

Saturday, September 5, 2015

Love Is In The Air - Clam Cakes Tomorrow - Meet Delphi

Something new: Please check out the new link at the upper left-hand corner of the blog, titled "The Place to Discuss Inspiration Nation." Click on the link and you will be magically (ha!) transported to Inspiration Nation at Delphi:

Inspiration Nation at Delphi Is Up and Running: How It All Works

Announcement

Welcome to the Delphi adjunct to Inspiration Nation. I've been on Delphi since 1999, and always liked the relative ease of having a real conversation. My blog is over on Google, and each day I post an article that usually includes a recipe. Most of the recipes are original, but if not, I'll let you know and post a link. I plan to post a link to the daily blog post in the (surprise!) Daily Blog Post discussion. I will also post the recipe, in its entirety (but without all of the photos) in the Daily Recipe discussion. So, if anyone wants to discuss something I brought up in the blog, or if there is a question about a recipe, or if you just want to make a comment, this is the place to do it. If you like to cook, there are already hundreds of recipes on the Inspiration Nation blog which can be reached by going to any daily blog post link. Welcome!

Because Delphi is designed for discussion forums (fora, yes thank you grammar police) it is much more user-friendly when it comes to back-and-forth chatting and interaction. You have to sign up, but it is free and painless.  It's especially good if you want to get into a discussion on a hot topic that really doesn't belong on Facebook.  The comment section for this blog is not really amenable for that kind of discussion, although you are always welcome to leave a comment.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled program:

I try to take a walk everyday, and today, the sky was so very blue and the sun so warm without excess humidity that I happily veered off my regular path.  I could not help noticing that the crape myrtles are in bloom and love is in the air.  Make that love bugs, in the air, in your face, all over the front bumper of your car.  Welcome to September in Central Florida, the beginning of the very best weather we have to offer.

Well, Google finally came through, but now my garden is giving me the business.  My daily harvests have become laughable; particularly the okra is just sitting there, refusing to grow to a measly one-inch length.  The okra bush is displaying a vast multitude of baby okra, but they are all premature.  Mocking me with their unfulfilled promise of gumbo-worthy vegetation.


Donald Trump pledged allegiance to the Republican Party, and Kim Davis, the frice-married Kentucky county clerk who decided the law did not apply to her, is spending her first few hours in jail.  Now let's see if her deputies start issuing those marriage licenses. Update: Yes they will, all but her son. What is it with county clerks and nepotism? Our county clerk here in Osceola has had his own share of misadventures, dutifully reported by the press, but unlike the hapless Ms. Davis, he embraced the marriage equality law as soon as it hit Florida. Not only did he issue marriage licenses to gay couples but he cheerfully started performing their marriage ceremonies at 12:01 AM of the day same-sex marriage became legal here. Whatever else his faults, Mr. Ramirez appears to be a hopeless romantic and a proponent of equal rights, not a bad combination.

I have not brought up the tragedy of Aylan Abdul, the little boy who perished trying to cross to safety with his family, in a very unsafe raft. I turn away from the photo which is now being shown by the media.  I have no answers to the migrant problem, which is widespread thanks to the neverending terrorist attacks in the Middle East and adjacent region. The world is held thrall by ISIS and the president blows it off. Plays golf. Travels to Alaska to rename a mountain with a perfectly good name. Declares climate change the greatest danger we are facing. All he needs now is a fiddle and a blow torch.  Don't get me started. The rest of the world's leaders are not much better. I said not to get me started. Thank you.

Sports news: my favorite Western Conference team, the L.A. Clippers, have finished hiring EVERYBODY.  The wildest free agent season ever! Woot woot, Doc Rivers, for gettin' the band back together.

Today was supposed to be Clam Cake Day, thanks to Nero Wolfe and the Viking Press. It certainly can't be Gumbo Day, because my okra plant has gotten downright nasty to me, and the okra available for sale in Publix is unfortunately too big and too woody to be eaten, at least in my house where Okra Aficianados abound.  But even the clam cakes didn't happen - too many errands, not enough time. and - wait for it - my back hurts.

Yesterday, I bathed two of our doggies while the boys were out. Although they are small, and get washed in the kitchen sink, it is still a major production (you do know that I am talking about the dogs here?).  Three shampooings and a conditioning.  Repeatedly rinsing, soaping, combing out knots, snipping the ones that are resistant to combing.  Clearing out drain traps 3 different times - these are Yorkies, and they shed hair like humans.  Which I can't allow to get into my ancient kitchen pipes unless I want to call Josephine the Plumber yet again. Blow-drying. Chelsea hates the blow drier. Oy. All on my feet, and I always pay for that sort of abuse.  And so I am and will ever be. Fibromyalgia - just me and my shadow. Of course it did not help that I was up most of thenight with   Chelsea out of fear for her breathing, which sounded seriously bad.  And then there were the soap bubbles coming out of her nostrils long after the bath was over.  No sleep ... no clam cakes. She's fine now; me not so much.


A very happy birthday (September 4) to my nephew Eric, the first baby I ever diapered.  He's 39 now, and I may have embarrassed him. Sorry. Eric is the oldest son of my college roommate Kathy; he's got a good job, a great wife, and two terrific kids.  He coaches the soccer team and brews his own beer.  I am proud to call him my nephew even though we're not related, technically speaking. But only technically.


Have a good day everyone.