We went to the NJ State Fair on Sunday, basically in search of Turkey Drumsticks and Kettle Korn.
What we saw was this goat, in the Goat Pavillion, pooping. Have you ever seen a goat poop? A baby-birthing size hole opens in it's back and round pebbles fall like gumballs.
Probably should have had a camcorder for that instead of a camera.
I dropped Becky at the bus this morning for her week of encampment. Okay, I know it's only a week but I still cried.
Wish she knew some other kids going; maybe I'd feel better then.
We saw March of the Penguins last week. It's got me thinking off and on all week about different things. But yesterday, as I was pondering some eggs for breakfast I wondered about the empire penguin eggs. They lay one egg. Well, chickens lay dozens but not all of the "take." We eat those that don't. So do all the empire penguin eggs take? Do some of those poor penguins sit in those freezing cold temps, caring for eggs that have no baby chick growing inside? Can they tell the difference? And if they don't all take, why hasn't some enterprising person run an expedition to gather up those eggs that don't take and sell them on the market for like a gazillion bucks each, like truffles (which by the way does anyone really like truffles or is that an emperor clothes thing but that's another topic).
We took Sammi to a Yankee Game on Saturday. Our seats weren't together because two of them came with our season ticket plan, but when we realized Becky wouldn't be home and decided to take Sammi, we bought a third ticket, two rows behind our original two. Anyway, we got to the game, went to the upgrade window and managed to turn our two and one seat way in right field (home run territory) into three seats in Main Box behind home plate (for the nominal price of $90, yikes); still cool though.
What I don't get, is we're about five rows back in Main Box (Field Box is in front of that, so maybe twenty five rows behind home plate). When we arrive, a father and young daughter (maybe nine) are sitting in the first row of our section. Eventually, someone arrives and claims the seats that father and daughter have. They get up and move to the second row until someone arrives and boots them out of those seats, then it happens while they're in the third row. Now each time it happens, people stand about because they have to get a staff person, to move the people in their seats and everyone's blocking our view. Finally it ends up with the father and daughter sitting in the sixth row, behind us and I doubt those were their seats either!
So tell me, why can't these people just sit in their flippin' seats to start!! Why must they disturb everyone else because they're too cheap to pay for these seats to begin with! What is that father teaching his child about following rules???
Now I'm thinking maybe I should stop smuggling food into movie theatres...
At the end of last year, all the students in my daughter's middle school received a summer math project to do. Now we had summer work before but that was reading, which can be done anywhere at almost anytime (i.e., on the beach, at the pool, on a train into the City, etc). But a math project? No, you're stuck in the house, researching items on the Internet, scratching out dozens of calculations and making pie charts.
I figure the school administration thought this would be a good idea, a way to keep math fresh in the kids' minds over the summer. I guess they don't realize how much my kids spend at the snack shack at our pool on a daily basis? Or that they have to calculate the change? Or that they're constantly figuring out how many days they have left of summer vacation. Or the human age of our dog forcing me to recognize her "birthdays" every few weeks. Nope lets give them a math project that will take a few hours to complete that they can cram into the last couple of remaining days of freedom they have.
At the end of this project, they courtiously left a space for parental comments. Well, I told them what I thought. I said I found it hypocritical that a school district that spent the last two days of the school year showing my daughter movies, and the week prior to that, taking her to a ball game, bowling and to a park, should send home math work to do over the summer. I promised to take take her to ball games, movies, bowling and parks if they promised to teach my daughter while she's in school.
She's afraid they're going to fail her now.
It's the most wonderful time of the year....:)
How many years do you need to do a job before you get it right? The bus that takes our kids to middle school was over thirty minutes late today. It's not as if the transportation department didn't know this day was coming over ten weeks ago. It's not as if they haven't run this same route for at least a couple of years. It's not as if they haven't been running buses to this school for over thirty years. So what does it take to get an on time bus on the first day of school?
Feel free to skip over this b/c it's going to be long and it's detailed and if you smell something, that's the steam seeping from my ears!
On Monday May 8, as I'm driving my daughters to their after school activities, my check engine light comes on. Within a few seconds, I notice my car is not shifting gears. S*** I exclaim. After getting one to her necessary location, canceling the other's appointment, I speak to my mechanic, the beloved Pete. Pete says, "Sure, Kim, bring it on in." I call my friend Lisa, who meets me at the mechanic, where I leave my car, and she takes me home.
The next day Pete calls. "You need a new Transmission Control module." We're going to try to get it for you but we're not sure, if we can program it or if the dealer needs to do that. It should be about $350." Grateful that I don't need a new transmission, on a four-year-old car with only 42,000 miles on it, I thank him.
Unfortunately, Pete calls back later to tell me that only the dealer can program the module, so I need to bring it there. Gulp. He says, “Don’t worry it shouldn’t be more than $400 or $450.” When I pick up the car from Pete, he won’t take any money for diagnostic work.
I call the dealer, Dayton Chrysler, in Dayton New Jersey, who cannot give me an appointment until Friday. "Well," I say, "I can’t use the car anyway, and since I have a ride today, can I bring it over now?” "Sure," he responds, "And maybe we’ll get to it on Thursday."
When I drop it off on Tuesday, I tell them it needs a new transmission control module; it’s not shifting out of first. On Friday afternoon, I get a call, “Kim, you need a new transmission control module.”
“Really? How’dya know?” I think. I do not say.
I thank him and ask when it will be ready. Monday.
Monday, I pick up my car, and $560 later I leave.
On May 22, my check engine light comes on again. Since I believe it’s related to the initial problem, I mean what are the odds, of this happening twice in two weeks, and since that work has a 12-month, 12K miles warranty. I bring it to the dealer’s service center again (remember that's Dayton Chrysler).
On May 23, they call to tell me some hose was bad totally unrelated to the previous week’s repair. Yeah, right. Only problem, I’m not home to receive the call. Chris is and he tells them to go ahead and fix it without asking how much. He thinks all mechanics charge like Pete. Me, I would have said, leave it alone, I’m taking it to my mechanic. So, on May 24, after $185 repair, I pick up my car. $5 for the hose, $180 for tax and labor. Who knew you could charge tax on labor?
On June 21, my oil light comes on. I mistakenly think it’s a low oil light, and since I’m 200 miles shy of my 3000-mile oil change, I bring it to Pete. Pete gives me an oil change, $30.
Later that day, the light comes on again. Hmm…I take out my book. Turns out it’s not the oil change light but the oil pressure light. I call Pete on Thursday, June 22nd. He tells me to bring it in first thing on Friday morning. I do.
Kim, he tells me, I going to replace the oil pressure switch and hope that takes care of it. I ask him to replace three of my tires too while he’s at it and he does. I get the car back later that day.
On Saturday, the light goes on again, and I bring it back to Pete. Pete was afraid that might happen. He delves deeper, and calls me later in the day to say, “You need a new oil pump and that’s a $1200 to a $1500 dollar job. As much as I’d love to take your money, I’m not going to. There’s no way a car with only 42,000 miles should need a new oil pump. Call Chrysler and demand they pay for this.”
On Monday, I call Chrysler in Detroit. They agree that my car shouldn’t need a new oil pump but before they can agree to assist, they need me to take it to their service center for diagnosis. The woman is very nice on the phone and gives me her private extension to call her back when I get the diagnosis. I call our Chrysler dealer first thing Monday morning but they cannot see me until Thursday. I ask if I can bring the car over now, since once again, I have a ride and I can’t use the car anyway; they agree.
On Friday, June 30, they call me to tell me that I need a new Oil Pressure Switch and it will cost $180. When I tell them I put a new oil pressure switch on just last week (which I told them also when I had dropped off the car) and my mechanic only charged me $30 ($18 for the part) They reply, “We’ll call you right back.” Ninety minutes later, they call back, insisting it’s the oil pressure switch and not the oil pump. They agree though I should bring it back to Pete, and they agree not to charge me the diagnostic fee.
At this point, my car has not worked for 10 days. I explain to him, fine, but if my mechanic puts a new switch on the car, and the light comes on again, I don’t want to have to wait another four to five days for an appointment. Jerry, at Chrysler, agrees to see me immediately if that should happen.
Back to Pete, who has left on vacation to visit his family. So I speak to Dino. Dino insists it’s not the switch but the pump but once I explain to him that Chrysler won’t assist me if I don’t have their mechanic diagnose it, and he won’t diagnose it without a new switch, Dino agrees to install a new switch. Dino won’t charge me at all for the new switch.
Now we’re into the holiday weekend. My car is ready on Saturday, but I am not home. So on Wednesday morning, when we return, I pick up my car. I am not three miles from my mechanic, when the oil pressure light comes on again. I go home, and I call Jerry at the Chrysler Service department.
Jerry says, okay; bring the car in on Monday. Jerry, I explain, Monday is not immediately. You promised you would look at it immediately. Okay, he responds, Friday. Bring it in on Friday. Jerry, I further explain, Friday is not immediately either. When would you like to bring it in, he queries. I could be there in ten minutes, I reply. Fine, bring it over he says.
So on Wednesday, July 5, (14 days after the light initially went on), I bring my car back to the Chrysler dealership.
On Thursday, July 6 in the afternoon, Jerry calls me and tells me, “Kim, you need a new oil pump.”
“You think, Jerry?” I think but do not say.
I call the nice woman at Chrysler Detroit on her private extension to tell her I have a diagnosis, only she’s not there, so I leave a message.
On Friday morning, I call her again, and leave a message. She does not call back.
Following Jerry’s advice, I call the general number on Friday afternoon b/c maybe the nice woman is away on vacation, or maybe she just doesn’t want to return my phone call.
Don’t ask me to go into the details of how long it takes to speak to someone who can help you at Chrysler Detroit, a very, very long time. Oh heck, let’s go into the details.
First you call them and after navigating through their menus (four or five levels deep), you speak to someone, who listens to the entire story. Then says, let me transfer you to someone who can help you. This second person must put you on hold though, while they “review your file,” then they call the dealership, then they return to tell you what they can/cannot do.
In this first case, the woman I spoke to (the second one for that call), explained that they could not assist me without a full diagnosis b/c according to Don, at the dealership, while they knew I needed an oil pump, they did not know what else might be wrong with the car. “What does that mean?” I ask. They need to take the engine apart, to get to the oil pump and examine all the areas on the car that could have been affected to make sure nothing else is damaged.
Now, remember, I’m in the hole to the dealership for a diagnosis fee which runs about $85 an hour, which I don’t pay if they fix it. If I decide I don’t want them fixing it (i.e., there’s no way I’m paying their prices if Chrysler Detroit isn’t assisting me with these repairs, I’m bringing it back to Pete), I still owe them all that money.
As I’m explaining to her that 1) they could have told me this before the entire process started, or 2) they’re holding my car hostage now b/c you see once they take that engine apart, and diagnose it, they’re not putting it back together again for me to take to another mechanic to fix – so I have to use their mechanic and their incredibly high prices. She just repeats over and over, “You need to have a complete diagnosis before we will consider assisting.”
Moreover, while I’m explaining this to her, our phone line goes dead because our alarm company is here testing our house alarm and disconnected the main line to the house for a test. Yes, that was me you heard scream on the afternoon of July the 7th.
When I call back, navigate the menus, speak to the first representative, who spends ten minutes familiarizing himself with my file before transferring me to the second representative, who spends another ten minutes, doing the same, the second representative does not feel as belligerent as the first. He gets Don, from the dealership on the phone in a three-way, and explains to me that the complete diagnosis is for my benefit. This way, if the faulty oil pump caused other damage to the car, they will find it, and Chrysler can assist with the entire repair, rather than me being back in this boat, in another month or two with a different problem. Okay – though it still commits me to using the dealer for this repair, I agree to the complete diagnosis process and tell Don to go ahead and take my engine apart. The Chrysler Detroit rep insists they will make it financially beneficial to repair the car, if they decide to assist (i.e., I won’t be hugely in the hole).
On Tuesday, July 11 (20 days after the light first came on, 16 days after I first brought it to the dealership), Jerry calls me to tell me the engine looks fine. He’s going to see if they have the pump on hand, if not they’ll order it and should receive it on Wednesday or Thursday. The total cost will be about $650.
I’m not asking why his estimate is half of Pete’s but I am a bit suspicious, not of Pete, but of the dealership. Yet, I cannot put my finger on it.
I call Chrysler Detroit., again, once I’m 20+ minutes into the phone call, I speak to a nice gentleman, who constantly apologizes while he puts me on hold, to review my file and then to call the dealership. He returns and says, “Ma’am, the dealership has overruled us on this one and is offering to pay for labor if you pay for the part.” Aha, I think, that number they gave me was for the part, and in my mind, totally unacceptable. I don’t say that though, instead I play dumb and ask, “Do you know if that $650 was for parts and labor or when they gave me that number had they already deducted labor from the estimate?” He does not know but suggests I call the dealer to find out. I stay calm and explain, that I’d rather he did it, because I still want assistance if I’m out the $650 and I don’t want to have to wait on hold for another 20 minutes to get to someone that can help me. He understands and apologizes, yet again, for not asking the question himself. He tries the dealership but cannot find anyone who knows the answer as Don and Jerry have both gone out for lunch. In the end, I call the dealership and leave a message for Don or Jerry to call me.
Later that afternoon, Jerry calls me and tells me my share will be $350. I can stomach that and am satisfied. He tells me he will try to have the car for me on Thursday, but definitely by the end of the week.
On Friday afternoon, I call asking about my car and they tell me, “The technician cut his hand while working on your car and needed to get stitches. It won’t be ready until Monday.” I verify he is okay and hang up but then things gnaw at me.
I won’t even tell you the nightmares I had that night regarding my car (well, okay – I dreamed I saw it driving on the road with a license plate that said, “Save Me”). On Saturday, because I’d been tossing and turning all night, because it had been 19 days since I first brought the car to them, and because my friend’s boyfriend, a mechanic, said they probably damaged your car and it was in a body shop and not even on the lot, I drove over to the dealership to see the car and make sure they were working on it.
On Monday July 17, 21 days after first bringing my car to the dealership (for the third repair in five weeks), I got my car back.
Yesterday, August 2, 16 days after receiving my car, the check engine light came on again. Of course, I called them and of course, they told me to bring it in next week. I told them that was unacceptable and they agreed I could bring it in this morning, first thing.
At 10:30, just after I went into the garage to bundle our recyclables and noticed a 12 inch oil puddle on my floor, they called to tell me the check engine light was not coming on, and there was no code stuck in the computer so they couldn’t tell what was wrong with it. I explained that I had just found an oil puddle in my garage, so I was sure something was wrong with it and I’m now sure it has something to do with the repair they were supposed to have made over two weeks ago.
I’m still waiting to hear back from them.
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Becky had to write a poem for something. I get confused. She's always writing something so I'm not sure if this was an assignment for class, for a contest or for the school's literary magazine. Anyway, being the proud momma that I am, I'm posting it. I hate putting it in Daily Grind though because it's really not a grind to read.
Something to make you laugh - I hope!
Every morning when Sammi goes to the bus stop, we take Fala along with us for a walk. So invariably, about 7:55 or so, she'll start to sit by the front door. By 8:05, she's in a frenzy of "C'mon, let's go, time to go, we need to go," activity. Needless to say, summer has this dog totally confused, as she's in her frenzy every morning, jumping and running towards the door, but going no where. Poor girl.
So this morning, we took pity on her and took her in the car with us on the way to swim practice.
But don't worry, she's buckled in.
And when I say mankind, I do not mean the human race (to me, that's a bit offensive since the majority of the human race are women, perhaps it should be womankind but anyway, I digress). When I say mankind, I mean men, yes those, beer guzzling, ball scratching, bastions of society, men.
So how does this happen?
I read Leslie's fairy tale and it got be wondering. I mean I think it's great and all but it makes me wonder, did I do something "wrong" by falling in love and getting married, especially so young and with so little experience?
Okay - posting twice in one day is something I normally do not do. But I received this cute story this morning with regards to New Jersey and I was trying to think of a good time to post it but reading Jerry's friend, Rose's comment regarding Jersey, I just thought I had to defend my home state.
Okay - Becky's rehearsal ran over and I'm sitting here, way past my 10:00 bed time, waiting to go pick her up. And I'm wondering, do you need to refrigerate water mixed with crystal light? I mean I know you don't have to refrigerate water but does the mixing in of the fake flavor crap do anything to the water that will cause me to puke (or some other stomach ailment that shall not be named), if I drink it if it hasn't been refrigerated?
Bueller? Bueller? Anyone? Anyone?
Do you ever have those times in your life where you just know you're grinding yourself down, but really, only because just around the next bend is vacation? That's the mode I'm in now. Finishing touches on vacation planning, trying to get some loose ends around the house tied up (I have tons of shopping returns I need to send back, not to mention general cleaning), and an over-scheduled social life this week. That's what I'm doing to me.
Saturday night - our annual clambake - I'll try to get an entry in on that. Friends we've had going on 12 years now, that we met when Becky started nursery school, come over once during the summer for a blow-out dinner. Followed by an early morning 40 mile ride with some friends who I couldn't ride with previously because of my training schedule.
Last night, we met my bro and nephews at Great Adventure b/c they're returning to Florida tomorrow and it was our last chance to get together for a while, not to mention, I had been promising to take the girls at night for a while. I didn't go on any rides, just hung with Andy but the kids hit, Nitro, Batman, Superman, The Great American Scream Machine and topped it off with El Toro. Another late night.
Tonight, it's up to Yankee stadium with rain for the third of our season tickets. Need to get to the supermarket at some point to pick up the fixings for our tailgate. I'm bringing Antipasto Chicken Sandwiches (from cooking light), recipe to follow.
Thank G-d tomorrow and Thursday, not much on the agenda (I'll swing in to full vacation prep then). But then Friday back up to Yankee Stadium for another game, this time with Chris, and hopefully the girls, if I can swing two more tickets tonight while we're at the stadium.
Saturday, I promised to take Becky to the mall - we're going to hit the make-up counters for some makeovers. Saturday night, Chris and Becky are heading to the beach so he can run the dog-day race, but I bagged out on him. Sunday - another bike ride and packing - we have to pack not only our stuff for Vermont, but both girls are going to encampment (a one week sleep away camp sponsored through United Synagogue).
And finally, Monday - we're off! I'll be blogging though b/c the cabin in Vermont has Internet access. But because I'm a glutton (not just for punishment but for food and wine too), two days after returning from Vermont, it's off to Paris!!!
The day after I return, school starts!!
Which reminds me, somewhere between now and Sunday, I need to get haircuts scheduled and school supplies bought for Sammi. Becky won't buy them until after school starts, lucky for me.
Phew.
Okay - so I'll be back shortly with some recipes from the clambake, the tail gate, and some trip planning stuff for both Vermont and Paris. So stick around!
Okay - I think Krista and I have two totally different CSAs. Look at the her Pick of the Day, all beautiful, nicely layed out. Now, take a look at the stuff they're giving a way at my CSA.
Random Vegies with Peckers
Tomato with Crooked Pecker
.
Sorry, it's the best I could find.
Well, it's my birthday too!
I wonder if I could rent Sixteen Candles to watch today - great birthday flick.
Have a good day all.
Before Bookcase
I don't know about the rest of you, but I collect books. Oh not rare books, not a certain genre of books, just books. And it's really not intentional either. I just love browsing bookstores and when I see something that looks or sounds interesting, I buy it. Not just that, but I make lists of books I want, and for the holidays, Chris's Dad and/or Aunt usually end up buying me even more books. Then what happens to most of these books? They sit.
Trish was talking about the Coyote she has near her and I was wondering about this critter in our backyard.
Sorry for the poor quality but it's through a screened window - didn't want to get too close. So is it a fox or coyote. We go back and forth because Chris insisted that while coyotes are being spotted in NJ none were spotted in our area. Then, last week, one was spotted in the next town (which our house practically borders), so now we're back on the fence. I say, our fox have redder coats and are smaller (I have a non-digi picture of one somewhere). Though the animal control guy thinks it might be a fox with mange (which is sad) but I'm still not sure.
Anyway one more shot for your consideration
My grandma used to hollow out the inside of rolls and bagels. She'd take the dough and put it into this plastic bag with a twist-tie (probably and old produce bag or something). She'd eat the outside of the bagel or roll herself but then, when the bag was full, we'd take it across the street to the park, and feed the pigeons.
Some people get skeethed out by them, but I don't. I like them.
In college, there was this park on the other side of the mountain from our campus. Sometimes Chris and I would go over there and feed the ducks and geese. I like doing that too.
Thanks Kathy, for helping me to remember those things.
Pigeons in Venice - Man Was I Heavy
Dolce Italiano
I don't remember her name but there was this blogger who wrote about her efforts to do every single recipe in Julia Child's cookbook (not sure which one); I think she even got a book deal out of it. Honestly though, I've never read or even seen her blog, it's just something I've heard through blog lore. Something I always thought would be cool to try.
Well, now I'm going to try it - only I'm not going to do it with Julia Child's cookbook. I'm going to do it with Gina DePalma's new cookbook, Dolce Italiano, Desserts from the Babbo Kitchen.
So yesterday I made a batch of the Lemony Semolina Cookies from Dolce Italiano. I wasn't sure about the semolina as far as the consistency in your mouth, but I had some on hand (left over from a batch of arborio rice coating we made in August), so I wanted to use it up. Also wasn't sure about the addition of limoncello into the cookie dough - but both of these reservations were unfounded. Another winner - even Sammi approves. Oh and they weren't overtly lemony just enough - great with a cup of tea or coffee as an afternoon snack. Heck, they even went well with my glass of milk before bed.
Oh and Weight Watchers wise - these are great at only 1 point a piece!
I haven't decided what's next but I'm leaning towards the hazelnut cookies.
"Don't ever make these again!" Becky says, and then smiles, "I'm addicted."
Well, I could definitely see that happening. I baked these on Friday afternoon and if I didn't hide them, in of all places, the cookie jar, they would definitely not have survived the hordes of people in and out of our house this weekend. Before they even cooled from the oven, Mom, daughters, nephews, brother and future sister-in-law all gave them the thumbs up.
They were easy to make, with minimal fuss but I guess could get pricey with hazelnuts ringing in at a whopping $8.99 a pound at Whole Foods but definitely worth it. I used the food processor to not only finely chop the nuts but also to do a number on the bittersweet chocolate which melts lusciously throughout.
One of these days, I'm going to have to get the kids to rank these recipes in order of preference but not yet. Oh and I haven't figured out the Weight Watcher points yet but I will, and will update this entry when I do. Definitely a make again.
Oh the white coating is from a roll in confectioner's sugar before baking.
Next up, probably the almond fingers and/or the polenta cookies.
Update: each of these cookies is two Weight Watchers points.
Fala's not sleeping. Well, that's not entirely true. She's sleeping right now, on the chair in my office. She never used to sleep on that chair but since I put her favorite afghan on it, she sleeps on it most mornings while I work.
What I mean to say is that she's not sleeping at night. She falls asleep just fine but sometime about 3:30 or 4:00 in the morning, something bothers her and she stars scratching. When she scratches, she jingles. When she jingles, she wakes me. Why? Because she sleeps next to me on the bed.
So for the last several mornings, I've woken at about 4:00 or 4:30. It means nothing to her to wake me at that time, because, as I've already demonstrated, she sleeps all day. What does she care?
I'm not sure why she starts scratching then, but last night I removed her collar and she fell back to sleep. I, on the other hand, was up for good, so I watched the rest of Inspector Lynley, Blink of an Eye, on Tivo. I had fallen asleep during it the night before, around 9:15. Why? Because the stupid dog keeps waking me at 4:00 in the morning.
So now, I'm in a funk because that's what happens when I don't get enough sleep. That, and overeating. Don't ask me why being tired leads me to overeating but it does. Anyway, so now I'm in this funk, and I need to get out of it but am not sure how.
For starters, I'm cleaning the house, before Anna, the cleaning lady arrives. Yes, we all know the absurdity of cleaning before the cleaning lady - but it's not really cleaning, it's more like straightening, putting crap away so that she can actually dust and vacuum without navigating the obstacle course that is normally my house.
Next, maybe I'll convince me that getting on the bike, will make me feel better. But somehow I doubt it - this could be one of those days where I walk around in my bike shorts and shirt all morning. Then again, you never know.
After that - I'm clueless. I could try reading but I'm tired. Maybe a walk in the woods but I'm tired. Can't do the nap - I lost that ability sometime since college with only fleeting glimpses of it on the occasional vacation without children. Besides, Anna will be here and I feel there's something terribly wrong with me napping while she's cleaning.
Anyway, so now I'm in a funk and I've probably blown enough time whining here - so I guess it's back to "straightening" for me.
Webster's defines censorship as "the institution, system, or practice of censoring." It defines censoring as "to subject to censorship." You have got to love that circular thinking.
However, censor, besides the first meaning dealing with Roman magistrates, goes on to the second definition of "one who supervises conduct and morals" (hmm ... perhaps we should change the term on our SlowTalk forum from Moderator to Censor?). It also defines censor as "an official who examines materials ... for objectionable materials." And finally, "an official ... who reads communications ... and deletes material considered harmful to the interests of his organization."
So reading that, it seems that the administration of Slow Travel Talk does censor. But here's my question, "What's wrong with that???"
Last Friday I made these cookies from Dolce Italiano, Desserts from the Babbo Kitchen. Another winner!!
The cookies called for currants so I was a bit leery if Chris would like them. Chris considers raisins to be the "food of the Devil" so I wasn't sure if his feelings about tiny dried fruits carried to the currant. Luckily, they did not. As a matter of fact, these passed the bittersweet chocolate hazelnut cookies (aka biscotti di ciccolato a nocciole) as Chris's favorite (Sammi's favorite is still the Lemony Semolina Cookies; I'm not sure about Becky's). The recipe calls for grappa, which I do not have on hand, so I substituted brandy. Plus, I forgot to sprinkle the cookies with granulated sugar before baking, but still these were a hit. The only one who didn't appreciate them was Becky. As it turns out, she has the same aversion as her father, only hers does extend to the poor currant.
Again, sorry for the picture quality - I suck at taking food pictures.
On the Weight Watcher points program, these cookies come in at an easy one point each!
I have a Weight Watcher friend (i.e., someone I know from my meetings), who has the WW One Pot cookbook. They no longer sell this cookbook so she offered to bring it to a meeting for me, let me look through it, mark the recipes I would like and she would copy them for me. Good deal I thought.
So last night, I made the first of the copied recipes, this Shrimp and Sausage Jambalaya. Now normally, I don't feel comfortable posting recipes from known sources on my blog unless they're already out there on the web (e.g., on Cooking Light or FoodTV) - not sure why, I guess just my bugaboo - guess I want the cookbook author to get to make another sale or something. But since this is from a book that's no longer in print, and therefore no one can make anymore money on it, I don't feel so bad.
Tomorrow, Chris and I will celebrate our wedding anniversary. But since more often than not, he's on the road for our actual "anniversary" we celebrate on the weekend before. So last night we cooked a wonderful anniversary dinner together, then set the dining room with our fine china, popped the cork on some bubbly (and later a Dei Montepulciano de Nobile Riserve 1997) and enjoyed.
To start, I ordered some domestic caviar from Tsar Nicoulai. It arrived Friday afternoon on schedule and we kept it on ice for last night in the fridge. I also ordered a package of blini mix which Chris cooked up during the afternoon.
Eighteen is an important number in Judaism - don't ask me all the significance because learned I am not but I can tell you it's Chai and symbolizes life, and you'll often see Jews wearing the letter Chai around their neck for good luck.
Today, also happens to be my 18th, or chai, wedding anniversary.
I wanted to wax on poetic, write some moving tribute to my partner and best friend for these last eighteen years. You know the one who leaves the toilet seat up, never wipes up the pancake batter after he's made breakfast for us on Saturday morning, never tosses out his paper cup after he's brushed his teeth, but realized it's easy to put into words all the little silly things he does that irk me but so much more difficult to come up with something original for the way he makes me feel.
So I think about Chris, and I think about these past 18 years and I think about life and good luck and I realize that more than eighteen years ago, I had the good luck to find someone with whom to share my life. Someone who makes me laugh, who challenges me to be better than I am, someone who supports me when I fall short of those challenges and someone with whom I cannot imagine my life without.
Sometimes, unbelievable, even to me, here we are, eighteen years later, still building our life together, merging our likes and dislikes, sharing our accomplishments, and our sorrows, realizing some dreams, while others fade away and still yet, creating new ones, but together.
It makes me smile to think about my favorite part of the day, when we climb into bed together (and wipe your dirty minds, I'm talking about the actual act of sleeping next to each other - can you believe we still spoon every night?), and knowing that it is his favorite part of the day too. It makes me sad to think about the losses we've endured together, both family and friends. It makes me hopeful though when I think of all the plans we still make, the trips to take, the parties to have, and for Chris, the marathons to run.
I think it takes a certain amount of luck, and faith to commit your life to someone else. Today I am profoundly happy that Chris chose to do that with me. So Happy Anniversary my love.
Well, it's that time of year again, time to get ready for Thanksgiving. Why does it seem that every year, I think I'll have plenty of time to prepare and experiment with some new dishes, only to get jammed up the last week?
I know, it's because we usually end up going away during November, and by the time we return, I'm always hit with the realization that Thanksgiving is only a week away.
This year is no exception, but for the fact that rather than a week after our return, I'll only have two days, I find a bit daunting. You see we're heading out tomorrow for my brother's wedding in Florida and will not return until Monday afternoon; looking forward to the weekend but man, am I a bit nervous about next week.
So with that in mind, I threw together my menu and to do list last week, and rather experimenting with some new dishes, one that incorporates some old favorites, only one new dish, and some make aheads that I'm working on now. I also forfeited the idea of making the desserts from Dolce Italiano, Desserts from the Babbo Kitchen, to save some boockoo time, and decided for the next best thing, pies from Emery's.
Okay - so it's been a while because in between my Thanksgiving prep we traveled to Florida for my brother's wedding. Great fun, but hectic weekend. I hope to write a bit more about that over the weekend when we have some pictures Becky took.
Anyway, back to T-Giving. So here's where I stand. The carrot muffins are in the freezer and need to come out (same with the Bourbon Dogs and the sourdough bread). I never did get to make the sweet potatoes last week, so I'm working on them now (they're on the stove). The turkey is in the fridge brining - which, by the way, is a complete pain to do when you're by yourself. Luckily my Dad was sleeping in his chair and I was able to wake him with my voice to come help me before all the liquid spilled in the sink.
Pickled Bird
I use turkey bags to do the brining and like to put the turkey, within the bags (I double bag), into my roasting pan in the fridge (it's how it fits) but last night we couldn't lift the bags out of the big 20 quart pot in which I had them in the sink (I used the pot basically to prop up the bird), so I ended up cleaning out the fridge a bit (re-arranging and stuff), so I could get the bird inside, in the 20qt pot and all.
Alright, another update, the sweet potatoes are done and so are the mashed potatoes. I'm toasting the bread for the stuffing now and will begin chopping vegies - with luck I should be done with prep work and cleaning this afternoon.
I made this tonight for dinner after getting the original recipe from In One Pot by Weight Watchers (a book that's no longer published). We really enjoyed it, it came together pretty easily and was tasty. I've noted my changes at the end and I think the only thing I'll do different next time, is toast the flour in it's own saute pan or in the oven as Cooking Light does in their Gramercy Crawfish Gumbo. Enjoy:
* Exported from MasterCook *
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon oil
3/4 pound pork tenderloin -- trimmed of fat and 1/2" chunks
1/4 pound low fat sweet Italian sausage links -- casing removed
1 large onion -- chopped
1 large green bell pepper -- chopped
2 stalks celery -- chopped
3 cloves garlic -- minced
1/2 cup water
14 1/2 ounces canned diced tomatoes
10 ounces frozen okra -- sliced
2 cups low sodium chicken broth
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground pepper
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
1 bay leaf
2 cups hot cooked rice
Sprinkle the flour evenly over the bottom of a large nonstick dutch oven or heavy pot. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until the flour is fragrant and begins to color, about 5 minutes. Cook, stirring constantly, until the flour is the color of peanut butter, about 10 minutes longer. Transfer the flour to a small bowl, wipe the pot clean.
Heat the oil in the Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the pork and sausage and cook until very lightly browned, 6 - 8 minutes. Transfer to a plate. Add the onion, bell pepper, celery, garlic and water to the dutch oven. Cook stirring occasionally, and scraping up the browned bits with a wooden spoon, until the vegies are softened, 3 - 5 minutes.
Return the flour to the pot and cook, stirring about 1 minute. Add the tomatoes with their juice, the okra, broth, thyme salt, pepper, cayenne and bay leaf. Return the pork and sausage to the pot; bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered until the pork is tender and the liquid thickens slightly, about 20 minutes. Discard the bay leaf.
Put a mound of the rice in the center of each soup bowl. Ladle the gumbo around the rice.
Per Serving (excluding unknown items): 372 Calories; 7g Fat (16.8% calories from fat); 30g Protein; 47g Carbohydrate; 5g Dietary Fiber; 55mg Cholesterol; 944mg Sodium. Exchanges: 2 Grain(Starch); 3 Lean Meat; 2 Vegetable; 1/2 Fat.
NOTES : I sliced the okra though the recipe didn't call for it. So I defrosted the okra for a couple of minutes in the microwave first. I like it sliced because its pieces are then the same size as the others in the pot and it acts as an additional thickening agent. Also, instead of the salt, pepper, and cayenne, I subbed 2 teaspoons of Creole Seasoning. Lastly, I used Turkey sausage.
Serving is 1 1/2 cups of gumbo and 1/2 cup of rice.
I followed Palma's lead and made the infamous Cheddar, Date Biscuits, that Shannon, of Poptarticus had originally told us about, but with the changes Palma described in her blog, Palmabella's Passion, The Biscuit Experiment. While I love the taste, I'm not crazy about the "appearance." I keep thinking there should be something speckled green in the dough - like an herb or something but I can't think of anything that would go.
I froze a bunch though (unbaked) and will experiment with the reheating (i.e., do you defrost them first or bake right from the freezer, and if so, for how long) this weekend. Next, I need to figure out the WW points in each.
