Asparagus - My Way

One of the things I like best about spring is asparagus. Right now, in just about any grocery store, you can find tender, young asparagus for as low as $0.99 a pound. I was in my local Tom Thumb on Sunday and picked up a bunch of asparagus for our Monday dinner. I love asparagus most ways (except boiled - gross), but this recipe is my absolute favorite.

Spring Asparagus with Garlic

2 tbsp. butter (the real stuff please)
2 tbsp. good olive oil
1 tsp. sea salt (do yourself a favor and buy some good salt - don't use the shaker stuff for this!)
1/2 tsp. coarsely ground black pepper
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 lb. asparagus spears, washed and trimmed

In a medium saute pan over medium heat, melt together the butter and the olive oil. Once this is melted, sprinkle the salt and pepper over the oil and allow the salt to melt into the butter/oil mixture.

Add the minced garlic and let it cook down and infuse the oil for a minute or two - don't let it get brown or burn!

Once the garlic is just barely cooked, add the asparagus spears. Saute the asparagus, turning to coat in the salty, peppery, buttery olive oil, for about 10 minutes or until crisp-tender. Turn the asparagus every minute or so so it doesn't overcook or get brown. The salty-garlicky oil will permeate the spears and they will be so tender and flavorful you'll want to spank your mama.

With asparagus so cheap right now, we're going to be eating a lot of this. Try this recipe - I promise you will NOT be disappointed.

Let me know how it works out for you (but don't really spank your mama - unless she deserves it!)!

Weird Lenten Meals Forced Upon Me... and MORE!

Growing up Catholic meant that there was NO MEAT on Fridays. I never really cared too much for Lent, because of two things:

1) Gramma Stella wouldn’t give me any candy after lunch
2) Weird dinners on Friday

OK, so the dinners weren’t always weird. But with a family farm in the picture and plenty of access to fresh eggs, one of the go-to meals was BEANS and EGGS. Basically, this was a couple of cans of vegetarian beans warmed up and served with your choice of fried egg. By choice of fried egg, I mean you could have it fried or you could go without. This was often served with soft white bread and plenty of butter or margarine and a glass of milk.

I NEVER eat fried eggs anymore. No joke. It’s even hard for me to watch the hubs eat his sunny side ups. I must have choked down hundreds of eggs when I was a kid (maybe thousands!). Fried eggs for breakfast, egg salad sandwiches, fried egg sandwiches, hard boiled eggs, deviled eggs, and the after school snack of choice – A FRIED EGG! No cookies and milk for us!

Another go to was the Salmon Patty. I don’t know who thought this horrific dish up, but I remember thinking I was being punished for being Catholic. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE SALMON! But that stuff that comes in a can was mixed with bread, eggs and other stuff and it was just… well, icky.

The BEST part about being Catholic during Lent was that once in a while, we got to go to a FISH FRY! These were put on by some fraternal organization, usually the Elks, the Moose or the Eagles, and consisted of all types of fresh Lake Michigan caught fish, usually deep-fried to a crunchy golden brown goodness. French fries, cole slaw and green beans were always on the menu, and we always got DESSERT!!! (Susu likes pie. Amen.)

Second best to the fraternal order of the fish fry, was the home-cooked smelt fry. Smelt are little fish that would run in the early spring, and a lot of times they would wash ashore on the beach. The beach would literally be COVERED with smelt. Anyway, after the big catch came the worst part about the smelt - cleaning them. I would watch my dad do it, chopping off the heads and cleaning out the guts. Once we were old enough, my older sister Jean and I cleaned the fish. Come to think of it, that usually meant that SUSAN cleaned the fish.

The cool thing about smelt is that you basically eat the whole thing – fins and bones included. Dad would dredge them in some seasoned flour and deep fry them until they were golden. We’d eat them with French fries, lots of tartar sauce with homemade pickle relish and a lettuce and pineapple salad.

Sometimes, Dad would make us pancakes for dinner. My mom worked nights, and if Dad came home from work and was not too tired, he would make us all pancakes. Pancakes with lots of butter and syrup and a big glass of milk is still one of my favorite meals – whether it’s for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Dad pancakes are always the best - just ask any kid!

I can’t say that I miss beans and eggs night (or salmon patty or fish stick night), but I DO miss pancake night. And I haven’t found a fish fry down here in Texas (but then I haven’t looked too hard either). The best part of being a kid was dinner around the table with everyone and even doing the dishes. (Ask my mother why she never got a dishwasher, and she’ll tell you she had FOUR KIDS for crying out loud.)

I don’t keep Lent anymore. I mean the no meat on Friday’s part. I’ll write about the guilt I felt after eating a Friday hamburger during Lent at another time.

Good old Catholic guilt. Amen.

I TOTALLY needed this today.

Such a beautiful piece that truly inspires.

Take a minute (or seven) to be inspired. Make a difference to somebody today - even to yourself!

Nap time is the BEST time!

The girls like to lay on top of each other and snuggle during nap time. They are just so darn cute, it's hard to not stop and snap a few quick pics. Of course, this usually wakes one of them up and defeats the purpose of sleepy time.

Miracles on the side of the road

I have two little miracles living in my house today. This is just a temporary stop for them, because these miracles will eventually find a home of their own. These little miracles are puppies.

Early last week, my rescue group got a call about ten Great Pyrenees puppies found on the side of the road. Now last week was cold - we had bitter cold winds and freezing temperatures and even some rain. It was a bad time to be an outdoors puppy. It was an even worse time to be a puppy dumped in a muddy ditch on the side of the road in rural Texas.

Someone was watching over these pups though, and a call was placed to animal control. They came out to get the soggy, soaking, cold and hungry pups. Not one of them weighed more than 4-5 pounds. There were five boys and five girls, between the age of 4-5 weeks. Probably shouldn't even have been away from their mama. It would only taken a day or two for all of them to die, exposed to the elements and other predatory creatures.

When we picked them up, the shelter manager, a young man who couldn't even be 25 years old, was angry. Angry because these pups deserved a chance, angry because of the idiot who dumped them. You could see the stress on his young face. His day consists of finding animals in his out-of-the-way area, then deciding who could possibly be adopted, then euthanizing the rest. The shelter is very small, I counted only 8 kennels, and one killing room. But the cool thing was how his countenance changed when we came to get these pups. There would be no killing today, at least of these tiny white bundles.

In his gratefulness, he and his staffer bathed them and treated them for fleas. He remarked to us that it was a rare occasion indeed when such a large number of dogs leave his small shelter in just one day. I know he wanted to say "alive" but he was gracious and held it back.

As a Christian, I believe we find miracles when we look for them. There isn't always a flash of bright white light. It isn't often that scales fall from eyes, or people get up from their mats and walk. But there are miracles every day - in the sound of the wind and the rustle of the leaves on the trees, in the flowers - and even the weeds - pushing up from nothingness. There are miracles in the sweetness of puppy breath and the innocent delight of watching babies play, so oblivious to what their fate might have been even last week. There was a miracle in that shelter manager's life last week when he realized that FINDING these ten puppies meant SAVING them, and not having to subject them (and himself) to the sad surrender of the pink liquid, that had been placed in neat rows on the shelves of the killing room cupboard. In my years of doing rescue, I know how you have to harden yourself against the realities of this work. But I've also honestly never seen a shelter manager more softened and grateful.

These ten little miracles are the lucky ones. They were found and they were saved. But hundreds of thousands of miracles are lost every day to ignorance and cruelty. Please. It doesn't matter whether you prefer dogs or cats, please - spay or neuter your pet. DON'T buy a pet from a breeder or a pet shop. Every single one of my pyrs is a pure bred that someone else didn't want.

There are rescue groups all over the United States that have animals available for adoption. Here is the one I work with - Saving Pyrs In Need (SPIN).

Now here is a photo of my two little miracles: Carlee and Caylee, both just 4 pounds of wide-eyed, heart-stealing sweetness.

Random things are fun!

• It's flipping cold outside. And I was wondering why my fingers were about to fall off, so I wandered downstairs to see that the thermostat was only set on 62. No wonder.
• Four dogs snoring sounds almost the same as seven dogs snoring.
• Sometimes my brain doesn't want to think about sales promotions and post cards. So I have to force it to.
• Brain doesn't really care too much for it.
• I would like a pair of electric socks. Do they even make electric socks? If they don't, the really should. I'd buy a pair.
• I've been doodling boxes today. This has to mean something. Anyone got an interpretation?
• Some days I feel undefeatable. And then some days I feel like a fraud.
• The trash guys are really late today.
• I really hate murdering mice, but it's one of those things that a girl's just gotta do sometimes.
• Deli turkey, Rondele Garlic and Herb cheese and romaine on a flat bread tastes delicious. And I think it's good for me too.
• Current food obsessions: Clementines, bananas and pomegranates.
• Charmin Super Strength toilet paper might as well be called "cardboard." I'm just sayin'.
• I've lost about 7 pounds and I'm feeling pretty good about it.
• Fountains of Wayne totally rocks, but then again you probably knew that.
• Trent Pawley apparently makes the world's best guacamole... and don't even play (whatever that means). But then again, I don't LIKE guacamole. So it could be the best stuff on the planet and I wouldn't give a Mexican avocado for it.
• Whenever I see guacamole, I think of "The Exorcist."
• So now you know.
• But then I think of it when I see split pea soup as well, so I don't care much for that either.
• I prefer things in groups of three or five, but a lot of people prefer twos and fours. That just seems odd to me.
  
  

Sights Seen at the Surgical Center

I had to bring Carl in to the Surgery Center of Arlington for a little hand surgery today. He has something called "trigger finger" – the layman's term – on his left hand. This causes two of his middle fingers to bend inward, creating something of a claw. Or as he likes to say, his hand is permanently bent into the "hook 'em horns" symbol. I prefer to say it's the sign for "I love you" but of course I am overruled. He's a tea-sipper all the way.

This surgical center is tucked back in an unobtrusive area off of Matlock Road and Orthopedic Way. I've driven by it many times and never even knew it was here. It's a nice building. The waiting area has lots of space, lots of nooks and corners. The carpet is a charming taupe and beige plaid and the chairs are maroon and metallic taupe – an interesting fashion choice. A flat screen television blasts the Today Show to the room, and the scent of the free coffee is tempting.

When you are sitting in a waiting room, you get to see all different segments of society. There is the dude against the wall reading an instruction manual for a computer application. It totally fits him too. He looks like a geek, so I am assuming that this is what geeks do in a waiting room. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

There is the couple from the low-rent side of town. He wears a three-day growth of beard and is dressed in camouflage and a gimme cap. She is in stretch pants and a wind-breaker. They are hard-working, salt-of-the-earth people, the kind that cities are built on and farms are run with. They smell like cigarette smoke.

The well-dressed couple in the corner are dressed in high-dollar track suits (this is an orthopedic surgery center, and you are asked to come in for your surgery in light, comfortable clothes). He has nicely trimmed salt and pepper hair and sports sandals that have probably never been used for any sort of sport. She is well-coiffed – not a hair out of place – as she gently places her French-manicured hand on his thigh and tells him everything will be all right.

In another corner of this oddly shaped room, we have a group of Mexican women – looks like two sisters and the daughter of one of them. They are quietly speaking Spanish and drinking coffee. There is worry etched on their faces, like this surgery may be a life or death situation. But since it's an orthopedic center, I doubt that's the issue.

There is the single, older woman sitting alone. She is wearing a Dallas Cowboys track suit and holds her cell phone tightly in her hand. She looks a little nervous about her procedure. Or is she waiting for someone already in surgery? I'm not really sure. Her eyes are darting around the room like she's looking for someone to tell her it's going to be okay.

There is a young black man, waiting to have his surgery. I don't know what it is, but he is also alone and he looks nervous.

I just got to go back to see Carl before they take him into surgery. He is wearing a cute little pink and blue gown and his hair is up in one of those little shower cap thingies. He's nervous too, because he was talking a lot and loudly. He makes sure the anesthesiologist knows that he can't take a lot of pain and he better ensure that his arm is completely asleep before they even consider cutting on him. Bless his heart, he's scared. They don't let me stay, I just get a quick kiss, a laugh with the surgeon and am booted out to the waiting area with the rest of the families.

I haven't seen Channel 5 morning news in some time. Looks like Tammy Dombeck let her hair grow. It looks pretty good!

I shoulda brought a book.

A baby changes everything...

It's that time again, when the world does an about face and all together decides to celebrate the birth of a baby, so long ago.

I love this time of year. It's always been a lot more to me than presents and carols and trees. I love the spirit that seems to humanize (most) people. Even my friends who are not believers in the commonest sense seem to step back, become a little kinder, a little more tolerant.

The birth of seven-pound-six-ounce baby Jesus (thank you Ricky Bobby) brings about a rebirth of goodness, kindness and compassion, even if it's only for a couple weeks out of the year.

Can you imagine being Mary? Being just a teenager - maybe 13 or 14 - so young! Being pregnant with the Son of God? Can you imagine being Joseph? Being asked to become the adoptive daddy to the Savior of Man? What heavy responsibilities asked of a couple so young. This was a baby that truly DID change everything.

But apparently God knew what he was doing. And the story began.

Now most of us know that Jesus wasn't born in December, and that Santa as a person may not really be real (although he is in spirit all year long), yet it's appropriate that we celebrate the season of wonder in the winter, when life is covered in freshly fallen snow and the stars seem to shine brighter in the darkness of the sky. (Insert bad dad joke here: It's the season of wonder alright - I WONDER if this winter will ever end! Ba-dum-bum!)

This Christmas, it will be warm here in Texas. No snow anywhere in sight. And Carl and I will take some time to thank God for that day so long ago, when the Son of God came to earth as a tiny baby. We will thank God that He learned from His parents, that He walked the earth and shared the Good News. We will thank God for His sacrifice and His redemption and His Spirit in our hearts and in our lives.

And I will thank God for you, dear blog reader. May you have a wonderful, warm and happy Christmas and always, please, remember the reason there is a Christmas season. :-)

And if you haven't already heard it, take four and a half minutes out of your life and listen to Faith Hill singing 'A Baby Changes Everything' - and see if you don't get shivers down your spine and thankfulness in your heart.

A Post from the Land of Yuck

Since last Friday afternoon, I have been down with the Yucks.

Not the Laughing Yucks. Those are fun. I especially like the side-splitting, pain-in-the-gut yucks that leave you gasping for air. Those yucks don't suck.

No, this was (is) the phlegm-y, hacking cough, sore throat, fever, headaches, body aches, what-the-heck-is-that-coming-out-my-nose kinda Yucks. And just for kicks, I lost my voice for a couple of days. I still don't really have it back.

It's a bad time to be down too. There are deadlines to meet, cookies to bake, gifts to give, laundry and cleaning to be done. But no. I have been bent low and wiped out with this nastiness.

So this Christmas will probably be really low-key. Just me and the husband, maybe a movie and a chicken pot pie or something for dinner. Heck, since he is coming down with it, we might just spend the holidays cooped up on the couch in front of the TV, catching up on some old DVDs and Tivo.

And you know what else?



Have a great Thursday night.

A Musical Postcard - Fountains of Wayne

You know how there are songs that just remind you of home? I was reminded of a fave Fountains of Wayne tune by an LL Bean commercial. Can you believe that? LL Bean?

Anyhoo, there is a tune off their 2003 album 'Welcome Interstate Managers' called "Valley Winter Song" that I just love. And subsequently totally forgot about, until LL Bean tried to sell me some slippers and a winter coat. Their commercial features this song and it immediately took me back to this album, and reminded me of other great songs like "Stacy's Mom" and "Hey Julie."

Anybutt, growing up in my home town, I spent a lot of winter nights at the recreation area skating rink. I would trudge through the snow (it was Michigan, for crying out loud) and meet up with my friends and we would skate the night away. The rink was outdoors, and there was only a small warming hut to store your boots and unfreeze your hands after a couple hours of skating around the rink.

Some of my most favorite times were at the skating rink.

So here is a video using Fountains of Wayne's "Valley Winter Song" done by a dude named boojwahz. Not only is it a great tune, but it reminds me of some of the best times of my life. I hope you enjoy it as much as I!



And here are Fountains of Wayne doing the song live.



UPDATE: I found the CD stuck behind a stack of books in the office. SWEET!

Hmm.... what WOULD Jesus do?

I'm pretty sure Jesus doesn't worry too much about the commerce side of His whole enterprise. He's probably got people that manage that. But I have a feeling SOMEONE is gonna get canned (or at least receive a stern talking-to and a three-week stint in purgatory) for this one:




I really hope I'm not going to hell for this.

Another month, another chance to ...

...either a) screw it up or b) make it FABULOUS!

I am really hoping for a fabulous December.

So far the freelancing has been going well. I mean I've at least made the last three house payments, so that rocks. I am enjoying my work with BC and am meeting this week with a veep out there - so that will either a) RAWK or b) not rawk.

Ever notice how life is full of choices? A's and B's? Ones or twos? Rawking and not rawking?

Sometimes life is like a ginormous restaurant where every dish ever conceived is always on the menu. You can stuff yourself silly with appetizers or enjoy a buffet of entrees or you can skip it all and go right to dessert.

The hard part is the moderation.

Sometimes, I want to dive right in like I did last night at the Chinese buffet. I had a little Mongolian grill with lots of fresh veggies and chicken and I threw a little lo mien on the plate. I had a couple of dumplings and some garlicky string beans. I had 1.5 plates and that was just a little too much. I was miserable for about 20 minutes and then I was hungry again (HA! That was a joke!) I totally feasted on average Chinese-y food and it was OK.

Because there will be times when the ginormous restaurant will be closed. And then dumplings and Mongolian grills will not be available to me. Life will serve raman noodles and generic store brand macaroni and cheese. With instant powdered milk and fake butter. And I will be (try to be) content with that too.

Man - I really love those garlicky string beans.

What a weird post, huh?

Things that make me happy TODAY!

I am home, in my own house, sitting on my own couch, watching my own TV and snuggled up in my own Dallas Stars blanket.

While I do like to get away, to me, the best part of vacations will always be the coming home part.

So, in no particular order, and making no particular sense, these are a few things that are making me happy RIGHT NOW, at 4:18 PM on November 29, 2008.

• I am home. HOME! In Arlington, Texas.
• Starbucks Salted Caramel Hot Chocolate.
• Genie Jean who snuggled with me all night while I was sick.
• The nice cold weather and the brisk breeze - my windows wide open and sleeping under an electric blanket. That is BLISS, I tell you.
• The dishes are done.
• There is no leftover turkey, green bean casserole or yams in my fridge. I DO miss the leftover stuffing and gravy though.
• I got a nice check in the mail. SCORE!
• Microwave popcorn.
• All my pups are happy and healthy. Lorrie took excellent care of them all. Plus I think Molly gained five pounds.
• Whatever sickness I had yesterday is just about over. Thank God.
• It's the parent's ACTUAL 50th Wedding Anniversary. No fighting today please. Try smacking each other on the butt.
  
  

Family Fantasy vs. Reality - What's the Score?

I am in Branson, MO on a family vacation. With my family. All of my family. This means my sisters and my brother (and their kids) along with my parents. It's day three, and there have already been fights, put-downs, threats to leave, and insults galore. It's been interesting, to say the least.

I have always wanted to have one of those great TV families. You know, like the Brady's or the Walton's or even the Camden's. But I am stuck with the Franckowiak's (try to sound it out - you'll still massacre it), and all that entails.

The reason for our gathering is our parent's 50th wedding anniversary. And while I can respect the good Catholic theology of staying together for the sake of the children, sometimes I wonder if my parents wouldn't be happier if they were not married. Not to mention that the youngest of the children is now in their early 40's and we have all seen the angst and in-fighting in their relationship and we've all wondered... why? Why stay together when there is such animosity?

All this angst has me, for lack of a better and more descriptive word, constipated. I am trying to be the peacemaker, my familial role, and it stresses me out. But I only have until Saturday, then I can head back to my own house and my own bed, hang with my own friends and hug my own dogs.

I realize this post may seem a little negative, but I honestly DO love my family. But there are times when I don't LIKE them very much. :-/

Veteran's Day

Today is Veteran's Day.

Interestingly, a LOT of people think that Veteran's Day is an excuse for blow-out sales and half-price dinners at local restaurants. And since I was in retail for the longest time, I helped perpetuate that fraud. And I am sorry about that.

Veteran's Day is actually about the VETERAN. That's the guy or gal that took a couple years (or longer) out of their lives to serve our Country.

Some of them were fortunate. They travelled the world and guarded our countries while on foreign soil, but never had to see an actual war.

Then there are those, like my brother, who have been in the trenches. Jimmy was involved in the FIRST Iraq war. I remember watching it on television and being absolutely petrified for his young life.

My family has a lot of veterans in it. My Dad and my sweet husband were both in the Air Force. My brother was in the Army. My brother-in-law is a retired Air Force Lt. Colonel. My uncle Tom was in the Navy (that's where he got his tattoo). My nephew Bryan is right now on a Navy submarine somewhere only God knows. My other nephew, Brad, is in the Reserves, and knows his time to deploy is coming soon.

The men in my family have always believed in service. Not just for the educational and financial benefit, but to actually SERVE our country. It's not pounded into them - we are not a one-branch-of-the-service family. It's just a way of thanking the United States of America for all the good gifts we have received.

So today, Tuesday November 11, instead of going out and hitting the sales, maybe take a drive by your National Cemetery and plant some flags or watch the service. Or drop by the local VFW and buy a cup of coffee for the guy wearing the "I Served" cap. Or say a little prayer for all the active military personnel still serving around the world. Or just look at the American Flag and say a little "thank you" in your heart.

And remember, freedom is never free, and it's our Veterans (and their families) who paid the price for it. Amen.

My attempt to be a better person - FOR ONE DAY ONLY!!

OK - this is the dealio.

For one day only, tomorrow, Monday, November 10, 2008, I am ONLY GOING TO SPEAK NICE THINGS ABOUT PEOPLE.

This is my attempt at being a better person - even if it's only for one day. If you hear me say or see me type something bad or nasty about someone, you have permission to slap me. Not too hard though, because I am delicate.

Thanks, Rinila, for the article and the idea. Maybe we should all read it and try it for just one day. Maybe we can all make it a habit.

Nah.

Salt

There are a lot of different herbs and spices that make life tasty and delicious. In my spice cupboard, there are lots of bottles and cans with mixes and blends that are used for specific things. There are blends like Sunshine, Cajun spice blend, Mesquite BBQ rub, Lemon Dill rub for fish, Montreal chicken and steak seasonings, lemon pepper and the like.

There are herbs, of course. Rosemary is my favorite - I use it a lot. Basil, thyme, sage, tarragon, chervil, parsley, marjoram (another fave) and coriander.

Spices like cinnamon, allspice, saffron (yikes on the cost of THAT!) are in there too.

And then there are the salts. There's regular old Morton's Iodized Salt (Dad still gets his for free), there's kosher salt, smoked salt, grey salt, sea salt, flaked salt, popcorn salt, gos sel, brining salt and pink salt in my cupboard. Yes, all these salts are there and yes, they all get used.

We can't physically live without salt, which is a good thing because it tastes so darn... salty and delicious.

Until I became an 'interested' chef, I never really gave a thought to salt. When I watched a program on salt, I became more intrigued and have been experimenting with all kinds of salts.

• Black Salt, Kala Namak, Sanchal - Significant for its strong sulfur odor (India) this salt is a pearly pink gray. It is used in Indian cooking. I have not tried this salt, but i have seen it and smelled it. The smell sorta turned me off, but some might like it. Maybe I'm just not as adventurous as I think I am!
  
  
• Grey salt, Celtic salt, Sel Gris – Harvested from the light film of salt which forms during the evaporation process. The gray or light purple color comes from the clay in the region of France where it is harvested. Collected using traditional Celtic hand methods. This is a really great, light tasting salt. Perfect on fish, chicken or other lighter meats.
  
  
• Hawaiian sea salt – Has a distinctive pink hue from the Alaea added to it. The Alaea is volcanic red clay with a high content of iron oxide. This salt is used in many traditional Hawaiian dishes like Kahlua Pig and Hawaiian Jerky. I haven't tried this yet because it's kinda expensive.
  
  
• Gos Sel, Gale Grosso – Is a larger grain salt which resists moisture and is intended to be ground. Uses include flavoring for soups and salt crusts on meats. I use this in my chicken soup because it really gives it a great flavor.
  
  
• Flake salt – Shaped like snowflakes, the brine is made using the sun and wind for evaporation. Then the brine is slowly heated to create the flakes. I brine my turkeys and chicken in this. Yummo.
  
  
• Fleur de Sel, Flower of Salt, Flor De Sal – Skimmed from the top of salt ponds early in the process of evaporation, this is considered a great condiment salt; also good on grilled meats, in salads and on vegetables. The flavor, like wines, varies depending on the region it is harvested from. Typically it is from France though some is produced in Portugal. An expensive salt, I've got a little jar of it and use it sparingly.
  
  
• French Sea Salt – Processed less than American salt, retains more of the mineral content gained from the Atlantic seawater it is harvested from. This usually includes natural iodine. A coarse salt, this is good for salads, vegetables and grilled meats.
  
  
• Italian Sea Salt, Sicilian Sea Salt, Sale Marino – Harvested from the lower Mediterranean sea by hand using traditional methods of natural evaporation, this salt is high in iodine, fluorine, magnesium and potassium. A delicate salt which is good on salads and in sauces.
  
  
• Smoked Sea Salt - One other derivative of sea salt is a smoked sea salt. The salt is smoked over real wood fires to add the flavor to the crystals. These can be used in soups, salads, pasta and also in grilling foods like salmon. I bought some of this from Michael Chiraello's store Napa Style - expensive and worth every penny.

So I totally encourage you to step out of your iodized salt habit and give some of these others a try. You just might find a new taste that you can't live without.

Depression Cooking

No, this isn't a post about cooking when you are depressed, although I DO do a lot of that. This is actually a post about a little video series I ran across that totally reminded me of my Gramma Stella.

Gramma Stella was my father's mother. She was born in 1903 and died in 2005 - yes, she was 102 years old when she passed. Gramma Stella was a vibrant woman, as big around as she was tall (well, to be honest she was kinda short). She had four children, all of them born during the Depression. Like my Gramma, my dad still has depression sensibilities, i.e., thrift, frugality, making do with what you have, saving, saving, saving, etc. She taught him very well.

Gramma watched us kids a lot when we were little, because my parents worked. Both of them worked afternoon shifts - my dad at the paper mill or the salt plant, and my mom at the hospital. So from about 2:00 until midnight everyday, Gramma watched us.

She was a tough cookie too. Nothing got past her. But I (and my severely whipped-a-lot fanny) digress.

We ate a lot of what people today might find sorta disgusting. We ate a lot of things like liver sausage sandwiches (on dark rye bread), czarnina (a fruity soup cooked with pork shoulder and duck's blood), weird sausages, a lot of Polish foods. Things were always fresh because of the farm - lots of eggs, lots of fresh milk, pork and beef.

During the depression, when things weren't going so hot, Gramma learned to make do with whatever she had on hand. Her creativity in the kitchen resulted in meals that are still familiar to me today - things like kluskis and bacon, noodles and cabbage, and what was known as Poorman's Meal. She made us kids a lot of Poorman's Meals.

Poorman's Meal always started out with potatoes and onions fried together (usually in bacon fat - yummy) with some sort of meat added in toward the end. I remember eating this with hot dogs, ring bologna, kielbasa, smoked sausage and even leftover pork chops.

I found this cool video on YouTube - it's someone's Gramma cooking the Poorman's Meal! Her's is a little different (my Gramma didn't use any tomato sauce or water in hers) but the feeling and tone are the same. She even says potato the way Gramma did (puh-tay-duhs).

This was a fun little reminder for me of those days with Gramma Stella and enjoying her Poorman's Meal.

Getting Out (To) Vote

Well, here it is, Tuesday, November 4, 2008. Voting day.

I wrote down all my selections yesterday, put the paper on the kitchen table. It must have flown off or something because when I got up this morning, one of the dogs ripped it to shreds. So technically I DO have an excuse to not vote (the dog ate my list), but yet I will NOT let it keep me away from the polls.

The question I am posing to myself right now is this: Do I want to go back upstairs and figure out all of my choices again, thereby saving myself lots of time standing at the machine, or do I just go to the poll, nothing prepared, and stand there and think about which boxes I am going to check and hope - just hope - that my selections will pop back into my head?

Of course another option is to just crawl back into bed and take a nap until around noon. Then I could think about all this stuff again.

Why oh why didn't I vote early (and often)?

November is here... Where'd the year go?

I love this time of year.

The other day, I drove by a tree that is changing colors (what the...?) and stopped to take a photo. The problem is that I don't know how to download it from my Smart Phone That's Way Smarter Than Me Phone. Seriously, I barely know how to answer the darn thing.

I had to turn on the air conditioner because it's been averaging 88 degrees outside. Someone didn't get the memo about it being November.

The dogs have been digging craters again so they can be cool and comfortable when they are outside for more than 3 minutes at a time. Reminds me of the time I broke my coccyx...

Carl has worn shorts ALL weekend long. Not that this is really unusual because he wears shorts when it snows too. (I, on the other hand, wear flip-flops.)

This past Saturday, we had our annual Pyr Picnic in the Park. All the dogs were hot and tired after about an hour. All the dog owners were hot and tired after about 15 minutes.

Millie was in the Halloween Costume Contest at the Pyr Picnic and got a Participant ribbon. I am such a proud parent. Wait - maybe it's an Achiever ribbon. Honestly tho - does it matter?

Today is November 3. In just 16 short days, I will be 46 years old. I still act like a 12-year old, have skin like a 15-year old and the chin hairs of a 64 year-old. Something here is just not adding up.

Have been working on the parent's 50th wedding anniversary trip and family reunion. Friends and relatives have been sending cards and gifts and I just wanna open them all up because there's nothing I enjoy more than ripping the wrapping paper off a present.

Seriously, what do you get two people who already HAVE everything? I wonder if there are any toasters in this group. Or an electric can opener. Not that I need either one.

I also wonder how I am gonna get my suitcases in the car with all this other poop.

Have been working on a big freelance project for the last four weeks. Have not been paid yet. That is kinda frustrating as they owe me several thousand dollars right now. Still have not made the October mortgage payment. Have not yet freaked out, nor have I contemplated murder. Armed robbery, yes.

Since Halloween is also Carl's Birthday, I planned a weekend of fun for him and called it Carlukka. He enjoyed some presents from Lorrie and me, all his favorite activities, favorite foods and even a little golf and time with his doppelganger son. I think he totally enjoyed his 50th birthday. That was the goal. SCORE!

This post is pretty random, but that's just how I feel right now. Random.

Or maybe I am feeling with my fingers. I'll never tell.

Bring me some turkeys!!!