Dallas On My Mind - Portobellos Latinos

Happy last day of Hanukkah.  By the way, can someone please tell the City of Kissimmee that "Festival of Lights" is not a Christmas reference?

Some mornings I wish I was Pam Ewing.

Baby Boomers and early Baby Busters have likely already figured out the reference. Generation X-ers and Millennials are probably clueless, but then, those generations watch "Keeping Up With The Kardashians" and "The Real Housewives of Pick Your Favorite Jurisdiction", and worse, think that the reality TV lifestyle is something to aspire to.          

Baby Boomers had night time soap operas, like "Dallas" and "Dynasty" which were uniformly super-glitzy and uber-dramatic, which I suppose also describes today's reality shows, but in defense of us Boomers, those shows were fiction. Real people did not live like that, or think like that, or behave like that, and if they did, the media did not promote them and swoon all over them.

Back to Pam Ewing - something terrible happens to Pam and her beloved husband Bobby Ewing:

Pam lives a terrible year of pain and grief, and the Nielsen ratings sink like the Titanic. Then one day, she wakes up as usual, preparing to face another horrible day, when she hears something or someone in her bathroom.

Quick! Call the police! Call J.R.! Call ...

Bobby? BOBBY? But Bobby's dead! Isn't he?

Nah, it was just a bad dream. All of last season was just a bad dream!

And that's why I wish I was Pam Ewing.

I don't have good days anymore. Every single day of my life I am in pain. Every single day I wake up and in that brief micro second before my brain and my body reconnect, I think everything is okay. I feel guilty for putting one over on everybody, making them think I'm permanently disabled. (One of the medical genuises actually had the nerve to say "I can't write down that you are permanently disabled just because you don't feel like working anymore.") And then, my back and legs seize up in pain and I realize that I have nothing over which to feel guilty. Besides, my husband believes me. He went out and watered all my porch plants, without even being asked, because he knew I couldn't handle the job. My son believes me. If I ask him to mop the upstairs hall or take out the recycling, he does so immediately. Cheerfully.

And my cat believes me.

Anakin long ago claimed this kitchen step stool as his personal throne, and we have accommodated him, at least until recently. He even receives his little crunchy treats on the stool.

First of all, we do not have any kind of table and chairs in the kitchen. Second, I can no longer stand for long periods of time while cooking, and I often take a rest by sitting atop the same step stool.  In the past, Anakin has expressed his displeasure by meowing or shooting me a dirty look. But today he showed us just how smart he is and what a good heart he has. He moved to the lower step so that we could both enjoy his step stool.

My cat is a mensch.

A few days ago I prepared this filling for portobello mushrooms. Usually mushrooms are filled with Italian flavors or spinach-based stuffing, but I wanted to try something totally different. Thus, these Portobellos Latinos, which I originally dubbed Portobellos Mexicanos, but there were those pigeon peas (gandules), so maybe Portobellos Puertoriquenos but what about that chorizo? and I renamed it. I finished filling the mushrooms and baking them off a day or two later. That refrigerated nap did not harm the filling; on the contrary, it seemed to mellow the spice which improved the overall flavor.

12 large whole portobello mushrooms, stemmed and gills scraped out
Butter flavor no-stick spray
garlic infused olive oil and butter
1 regular size bag Success Rice, cooked according to package directions
1 medium bell pepper, any color or combination of colors
1 large yellow onion, chopped
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1 jalapeño, seeded, ribs removed, chopped fine
1 bunch fresh cilantro, divided
1 - 15 oz. can Goya gandules verdes (green pigeon peas), drained
1 - 12 oz. package La Banderita Chorizo Fino
1 - 8 oz. bag each shredded pepper jack cheese and mozzarella
Optional - small amount shredded cheddar

Place the cooked rice in a large mixing bowl and set aside.

Sauté the bell pepper, onions, garlic, and jalapeño in a small amount of garlic infused olive oil and 1-2 tablespoons of butter, until softened and the onion is just beginning to brown around the edges. Lower the heat, add the pigeon peas to the skillet, and continue to cook until the peas are warmed all the way through. With a slotted spoon, move the skillet contents to the bowl of rice and stir to combine. Cover the bowl with foil or waxed paper and set aside.

In the same skillet, cook the chorizo by removing from the casing and using the slotted metal spoon to gently break it apart as it cooks. The cooked chorizo should have a little bit of crustiness here and there, but avoid overcooking. With the slotted spoon move the chorizo to the bowl, letting the excess grease drip off.  Stir in some fresh chopped cilantro. Re-cover the bowl and either let it cool to room temperature or refrigerate until you are ready to stuff the mushrooms.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Place the mushrooms cap side up in two baking pans. Spray lightly with the butter flavor no-stick, then put in the oven for 5 to 10 minutes. Watch to make sure they don't burn.  Turn them over and cool to room temperature. With a peper towel, gently soak up any excess liquid that may have formed  in the mushroom.  Sprinkle some cheddar cheese just to line the bottom of the mushroom, and return to the oven until the cheese melts.

Fill the mushrooms using 1-2 ice cream scoops of stuffing for each cap. Do not pat the stuffing down. Place 1-2 slices of cheese on top of each pile of stuffing. Return to the oven and bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until the cheese is melted and the stuffing is heated through. Garnish with chopped cilantro and serve immediately.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

December in Florida - The Fauna and the Flora

Happy 8th and final night of Hanukkah!

Well peeps, it's Saturday and I've already blown all of my weekend spoons. I am sitting here stupefied from a day of too much stuff going on. First Tai Chi, then Publix, then Chelsea's awesome 90 minute wash and blow dry, then cooking one dish, then another dish, then baking and icing and cleaning up the mess.   Bottom line here is that after all that cooking I am too tired to type up the recipes for the blog.  As Pooh would say, "Oh bother ..."

Check it out!

Between Publix and returning to the house, I took a few minutes to take photos of all the reasons I like living in Florida.  Remember, it's mid-December:    

Bougainvillea 

More Bougainvillea

Incipient Blueberries

Tomatillos (God willing)

Okra!!

Ichiban Eggplant

Maybe Zucchini

Mustard Greens and Collards or maybe that's Broccoli

A Red, Red Rose

Kumquats

Plumbago

Hibiscus

Coming Soon To A Parking Lot Near You: Loquats

Even our weeds are pretty ...

... pretty weird

That's the flora, and here's the fauna:

My beautiful girl, simply exhausted after her bath

The Last Centurion

Coming attractions:

Portobellos. BIG mushrooms.

Yin and Yang

Fast

I really want to dig up some spoons for tomorrow, but so far it's not looking good. Another Hanukkah without potato latkes.  Have to shoot for Christmas.

Doctors, Ex-Lawyer, No Indian Chiefs

Happy 7th night of Hanukkah!

So I managed to wake up, get clean, and get to the disability doctor right on time.  I love when I get somewhere on time; it feels like a moral victory. The appointment went well, I think. I saw the intake lady and the doctor, and I am pretty certain that they got the whole picture, which let's face it, is pretty pathetic. They were very nice to me. Now, we wait. I wait. Again. You know, I wake up each morning and think this is going to be over and I'm going to have a normal life again. Of all people, I am the one having trouble believing I am permanently disabled. Then I remember I am, and the day goes to hell again.

I have quite a bit of catching up to do. My garden ... oy, what a shanda (shame).  I've had to neglect it for weeks, because the pain has been too frequent and too debilitating for physical work under the sun. There are plants to be trimmed or planted, weeds to be pulled - many, many weeds - pepper plants to be sprayed, and even a few vegetables to be collected. God give me strength.

And the cooking. And the baking. Okay, so once the disability exam was over, I headed out to Walmart. I had a list, and I pretty much stuck to it. Well, I did buy myself a Christmas present, to replace the one I bought in 1978. Isn't that cool? Truthfully, I no longer have the strength in my hands to take out the Kitchen Aid, so I've been avoiding any recipe that demands a stand mixer. But this heavy duty hand mixer should be able to handle anything the stand mixer could. Merry Christmas to me!

Up until now, my baking has been purposefully confined to relatively simple drop cookies. I've avoided frosting and glazes and really tried to make it easy on myself, while still delicious for the tasting public. My next part of the cookie project involves more complicated recipes like nut cups, rugelach, blind date cookies, hamantaschen, and the like.  Little fussy things, very special and very tiring. I may have to take a nap between the Christmas Fruitcake Bars and Esther's Pastel Drops.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

And then, there is cleaning. Housework. Oh, the disability examiner asked me if I could do housework. No, ma'am, and I can't practice law either. I think she believed me, especially after I registered pain on all of the fibromyalgia pressure points. (By the way, if you've never gotten an invitation from me for a cup of coffee or a cannoli, that's why. The boys do the best they can but with 4 dogs, it's tough, really tough.) I used to hate housework, although not so much anymore. I am going to have to buy me some more spoons and use them judiciously. Except I don't think you can buy more spoons, and I seem to be losing some of mine. Like losing your marbles, only easier.                                          

I did lose a small amount of weight on the cruise (I know, crazy, right?) which meant I could try to eat a little more, and was therefore excited by my proximity to a Wawa  and my first Turkey Bowl of the season. So was Woody; when I got home, I set the bowl on the little table near my seat while I went to put on water to boil, and Woody ate most of the turkey. He left just enough so that I could give a bite to Indiana and Romeo. But the stuffing was tasty, and it wasn't like I was going to keep any of it down. I still wonder why the only solid food I seem to be able to keep down is pickled herring.

Let's not talk about politics today. I am very, very angry, and you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

I made the filling for stuffed mushrooms today, definitely different as it involves arroz y gandules verde, and a spicy chorizo, and a jalapeño from my garden. Ooh la la! Official Stuffing of the Mushroom tomorrow after Tai Chi. Stay tuned.

Thursday in Port, Homeward Bound

Happy 6th night of Hanukkah.

Home, and glad to be there. I missed my own bed, I missed my son, I missed my furry babies, and I missed my kitchen.  I knew it was time to go home when I started talking to Robert about the menu for Christmas Day, which is a stay-at-home-all-day-wearing-pajamas-and-watching-Doctor-Who, sort of a bizarre family tradition. We never go away during the holiday week, because back when I was a working girl, I was always willing to cover so my Christian colleagues could celebrate their holiday. They always covered for me, it was the least I could do.

So the first thing I did when I got home, besides exchanging hugs and kisses with my furry babies, was to curl up on the couch and go back to sleep. Sitting in the car for the hour drive from Brevard was uncomfortable; amazing that I made that trip twice a day, every work day, for four years.  Was I ever that young? (I was 39 when I started working for HRS.) More importantly, was I ever that pain-free? I slept for a good 4 hours.

Tomorrow I have my doctor's appointment for Social Security disability. I hope I can adequately convey the depth of pain, the mental confusion, the pain, and did I mention the pain? Oh yes, the insane itching, the deterioration of my eyesight, the pain ... you get the idea. Pain. My grandmother used to say I was a pain in the ass. Well, you were right, Mom, and every other place too.

Tonight I went to my Tai Chi class and we concentrated on the Preparation and Beginning forms. I still can't remember forms for shit, even immediately after following the form with Sifu Tony.  My balance was worse than usual; even my 'strong' side was wobbly. Well, I had been onboard a frisky cruise ship for four days.

It felt good to sleep in my own bed, even if all four Yorkies felt compelled to join us. Actually, because they joined us.  Romeo doesn't usually sleep in the bed - he has a special spot on the floor from which he guards the door - but he was so happy to see me, he was positively giddy and goofier than usual.  Woody planted himself at Robert's feet and did not move.

It's good to be home.  Next cruise is January 3rd, on the Carnival Sunshine, just before we enter the Interregnum of the Profits (tax season, the fifth season of the year). I may not bother unpacking.

Wednesday Fun Day at Sea

Happy 5th night of Hanukkah!

So I woke up this morning having a panic attack over a dissolution case I handled at least 13 years ago. I have no idea where the hell that came from - the kids are all adults now and my client is married to his third wife (I handled the divorce from Wife #1). That's all I'm going to say about that. I took my medication and hoped it would do the trick. Life is strange enough that I really don't need long-buried cases crashing through the barrier between my subconscious and my conscious.

Today is the last full day of the cruise, and we are spending it "at sea", which means we're sort of dog-paddling just off the coast of Florida.  Since we are not moving, and the sea is relatively calm, I can't explain why I had the overwhelming need to put on my anti-motion sickness wrist bands, but I did. For someone who loves to cruise as I do, motion sickness is becoming a royal pain in the tuchis.

Today is the day to do shopping and catching up on any shows we missed and eating excessively. Right now we are at the Sea Day Brunch, waiting to be served Steak and Eggs and Huevos Rancheros. The choices were wonderful, and they even have desserts on this menu.  The bread basket is beautiful - hold the steak and eggs, I could make breakfast just from the basket, with croissants, pastries, a variety of miniature muffins, and slices of quick breads. Even the coffee tastes better.

One of things I am hoping to buy, at the inch of gold sale, is a silver chain sturdy enough to hold Ira. (Warning: if you get creeped out by discussions of cremains, this is the time to skip down to the next paragraph. On second thought, you've probably figured out where I'm going with this.)

Ira was the feline love of my life, and since I lost him to advanced cancer in August of 2014, I continue to hold him close to my heart - literally. Some of his ashes are in this pendant, which I wear around my neck, suspended on the strong fabric "chain" which came with the pendant.

I have been wanting something prettier but still sturdy, and appropriate to honor my lost boy. I did buy something I like quite a bit, as does Robert, and I think Ira will like it too. I can pick it up after dinner. Photos to follow.

I haven't been writing about current events over the past few days, but that's because I am already in quite a bit of pain. Like most Americans I am frightened and angry and frustrated all at the same time. I am waiting for Donald Trump's campaign to implode, but it just doesn't seem to happen. Which says something about this country I am not sure I can easily analyze. (But please remember I said just a few weeks ago that 9/11 changed our country forever, and not for the better. You know what happened to American citizens of Japanese descent after the attack on Pearl Harbor.) We have been watching the news pretty steadily during the cruise, but it is all CNN and CNN International, and sometimes the self-righteous droning gets on my nerves. I am also tired of being scolded by this sorry excuse for a President. Your mileage may vary.

We are close enough to Florida at this point that we are again caught up in the bad weather. The ship is back to rocking and rolling and the motion sickness is just making the fibromyalgia worse.  I have been hurting quite a bit throughout, and even wholesale consumption of Advil and Zantac paired with a once-daily dose of Meloxicam is not really helping. Not even a mostly pleasant and restful vacation can stave off this pain. I am looking forward to my Tai Chi class tomorrow night; if only for a few moments, it does help me feel better.                                         

I am ready to go home.

Tuesday in Nassau, Funky Nassau

Happy 4th night of Hanukkah. Chanukah. Whatever.

It's still raining. If I had paid good money for an expensive trip to Paradise Island, I'd be pissed. The day we went to Paradise Island several years ago, it was warm, sunny, and mostly boring. I used to get off the ship at Nassau to buy a certain perfume (First, by Van Cleef and Arpels) I could not find at a decent price back home, but I now have a certain perfume outlet back home, right next to the Walmart Grocery on W. Vine Street, that carries all of my pretty scents, with the exception of Estée Lauder's Azuree. Of course, nobody carries that one, which I fell in love with the summer I temped at Estée Lauder on Long Island.  If you live on the Island, you know exactly where it is.  My point is, we have no reason to leave this boat today, and besides, I spotted mussels and clams on the Mongolian Grill yesterday.

There are a couple of activities I've marked on today's schedule - Guess that Song: Classic Rock, at 3:30, and a Hanukkah Service at 5:15. I also took out our traveling chess set (courtesy of Carnival - we get some nifty gifts each time we sail, now that we are Platinum).

Speaking of Fantasy-class ships, look at the sweet little old lady sitting next to us in Nassau:

The grande dame, the oldest extant ship in the Carnival fleet, fraternal twin to this ship and the Ecstasy, still kicking up her heels in the Bahamas. Old like me, but still useful.

Damn, there were no mussels or clams at the Mongolian Grill today.

The Hanukkah celebration was surprisingly accurate and quite nice, with a BIG electric menorah, Hanukkah gelt, Manischwitz wine, challah, and the strangest (but tasty) latkes I'd ever been served.

The only bummer was overhearing that the event was not being announced, although the person running the event had asked for it to be.  I suppose someone, somewhere on this ship might object to the celebration of a religious event ... that is indeed sad. But other than that, we had a swell time.

The food has been pretty good lately.  Those 2 bites of tiramisu I had for dessert were awesome. As usual I freaked out the waiter, who worried that the food was no good, while Robert patiently explained for the 4,257th time that I am a very small eater.

I think I am getting my knitting mojo back, and I've made great progress on my Knitch mini-shawl during this trip. I did some coloring yesterday and it continues to relax me almost as much as Tai Chi. If I get crazy and combine Tai Chi breathing with coloring, I am so relaxed I could attend my own execution by firing squad.

Chag Sameach, and may your Hanukkah latkes stay crisp and your sour cream never curdle.

Monday in Freeport

Happy 3rd night of Hanukkah!

I don't know how the weather is in Freeport, New York, but here in Freeport, Bahamas, it is raining. Actually, it's pouring. We don't really mind, though, because we had no plans to disembark and wander the streets. We've been to the Bahamas too many times to remember, did a little tour the first time, and never disembarked again.  Freeport is the most yawn-worthy stop we've ever cruised to, and  Nassau is a dirty, crimey, tourist trap. So these are the days we enjoy staying on board, eating a very leisurely lunch, reading, knitting, and people watching. It's a good day if you want Mongolian Grill for lunch (blah), or something from the grill (much better) and it is much easier to find one of the patio tables we favor on the Lido patio deck.

The view from our cabin

We are relaxing, which was the whole point of this Cruise to Nowhere Worth Seeing. We know this ship quite well; this is our third or fourth trip on the Sensation, and we sailed in her sister ship, the Carnival Ecstasy, so many times we lost count. The maitre d' knew us by name, knew our preferences, sent us a bottle of wine. The Ecstasy sailed out of Port Canaveral for years, and we were not the only locals who came to think of it as our "home" ship.

The view from the deck - Freeport

I don't expect this Fantasy class of ships to be around much longer. Most of them are 20 or more years old; the "youngest" two ships are already 17, our dear Ecstasy is 24!  If I remember correctly, all the ships have been refurbished at least once. This is the class I started cruising on in 2001; our very first cruise, which we took with our dear friends Bethe and Maurice Lipper, was on the Carnival Imagination. As you know, we were hooked.

The toast to Bethe and Maurice - although I've never had a mudslide garnished with fruit

From where I'm sitting I can also see the Port of Freeport with containers piled high and those huge crane things that are used to move them.  It looks like Port Elizabeth, New Jersey and that's not a compliment. I did get some nice shot of the MSC Busan, which is slithering right past our ship, and one of the tugs that is guiding her our of dock. Reminds me of the days when I helped my boss, Charlie Nutter, manage the insurance for companies like United States Lines, Central Gulf Lines,  and Texaco. Another lifetime.

It's been nice to sit still for a while, if only to ensure not falling ass-over-tea kettle. As I mentioned yesterday, the ship was pitching like Elvis' pelvis. At least I remembered to bring my cane; last cruise back in April, I left it home, and I had a dreadful time.  I don't know what made me think a cruise was a no-pain zone, but I found out it is most definitely not.

You know things are bad when the barf bags go up by the elevators

It is formal night, which means I wore regular slacks and blouse instead of jeans and tee shirt. For the first time, there were no lobster tails on the regular menu (!) but there was a new item - roast duck - and despite Carnival's well-earned reputation for so-so food, it was utterly delicious.  And speaking of so-so, the musical show, "88 Keys" was a big disappointment.

We are enjoyed this much needed break from routine. Hope your holiday preparation is going well.