* * *
Most of y’all came through for me in yesterday’s poll, as I knew you would, because y’all rock. As of this moment, 90% of you think Fred’s a rude bastard and the remaining 10% are split pretty evenly between “Don’t be such a touchy bitch” and “I don’t care, I just like to click things.”
Roxy said in my comments yesterday: We’ve developed this system that has worked pretty well for us. Whenever I try a new recipe, we sit down and eat it. Later on in the evening or the next day, if I’m on the fence about whether I want to fix the recipe again, I ask for comments on whether it’s a keeper. That’s when I can accept some negative feedback on the dish – i.e. too spicy, fine but a little bland, etc. It helps when others say they liked it but not as well as another similar dish – especially if the other dish is much easier to fix.
But doing it right then, when I’ve just finished fixing it? Not gonna happen. I boycotted cooking for two weeks after negative comments about a meal. Now we’ve come up with this admittedly uber-polite system but it has been working great for several years. Of course, if they love the meal, there’s no need to ask because there will be positive comments during dinner. Positive comments are always welcome:)
Which exactly describes how I feel. Wait a little while and then politely suggest that the chicken was too chickeny or it could have used some of this or that, or whatever. Just not RIGHT after I’ve finished making dinner, because I’m already cranky from the hating-to-cook portion of the day and not ready to hear ANYTHING negative about dinner.
(Unless I say something negative first, then feel free to pile on.)
On the other hand, last night I made ratatouille for Fred (I didn’t eat any of it, because I cannot abide green peppers in my food) and when he took a bite and suggested that the zucchini needed to be cooked more, I just shrugged and added a note to the recipe. I don’t care – I’m not the one eating it.
I never claimed to make sense.
* * *
If you’re “following” me on
Twitter, you may have read yesterday that I poked a bird. A dead bird. A dead baby robin, to be exact. On purpose. With my finger.
I was walking back to the house after grabbing the mail out of the mailbox when I looked down and saw a dead baby robin.
“Awwww,” I said, bending over to look at it, to be sure it was dead and not just hurt. There were ants all over it and it wasn’t moving, so I was pretty sure it was dead. And then I saw, sticking out of it or stuck to it – I wasn’t sure – something that looked very much like an acorn.
“Odd,” I said, and leaned closer for a better look. It still looked like an acorn and I wondered how it had gotten stuck to the baby bird (now, when I say “Baby”, I mean more adolescent-y. Like it was probably old enough to fly from the nest, which is probably how it ended up dead on the ground, trying to fly. That’s my hypothesis, anyway.). Before I could stop myself, I reached out a hand and poked the acorn with my index finger.
And it SO was not an acorn. It was soft and mushy and felt kind of… organy. I pulled my finger away, squeaked in horror, and ran into the house to wash my hands with boiling water.
When Fred got home, I made him come out and look at the baby bird, and Dr. Fred looked it over and decreed that it had “Pooped its guts out, probably while it was dying or shortly thereafter.”
Then he picked it up by one leg and took it over to toss it in the ditch with all the other small dead things we find.
Ah, me. Life in the country, so educational. I hope I don’t poop my guts out when I die.
* * *
I’d make a longer entry, but I’ve got watermelon rind to pickle and laundry to do and beds to make and a bathroom to scrub down and kittens to flirt with. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.
* * *
Nest = empty.
* * *
Previously
2006: If you could possibly NOT lay three inches from me and spend 63 hours slurping on your asshole so that I am driven into a homicidal rage and forced to run you out of the room, I would very much appreciate it.
2005: They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine…
2004: And I’m not even a George Michael fan. Though “Faith” rocks the casbah.
2003: No entry.
2002: Fred: “It’s dick in your mouth good!”
2001: No entry.
2000: You know, life would just be so much simpler if I were already queen of the world and in charge of punishments and such.]]>
Great. Now I’m all teary-eyed. Thanks a lot!
(Are you all teary-eyed? Hope not!)
Goodbye, Spud! Drive carefully, watch out for the bad drivers on the roads!
Have FUN!
[Vicariously] you are going to be missed!
Robyn, I hope you and Fred have a lovely, reflective, not-too-chickeny dinner tonight, cheers,
M
Robyn! Seeing the spud drive away made me incredibly sad for some reason. PMS?? Anyway, I’m surprised you have your wits about you enough to write an entry because I’d be a bawling mess!!
Oh, and the dirty rice? I just brown some ground beef and mix rice with it (works best if the rice is cold). Add a little olive oil to lube it up and mix in cajun seasoning. Yummers!!
I like the gathering rain clouds in the background. Foreshadowing?
Zatarrains has a box version of dirty rice, regular and low sodium. Both are good in a pinch, just add ground beef.
Ummm…pickled watermelon rind?
Fawn
This is going to sound cold, but I didn’t get too sad over the empty nest series of photos but that’s probably because I was still cackling over this:
“I hope I don’t poop my guts out when I die.”
And ditto the Zatarrain’s, dh can’t get enough of that stuff.
I like to add ground pork sausage to the Zatarrains.
Robyn,
For the dirty rice recipe (and a whole bunch of other New Orleans style recipes) google “Cooking with Entergy” and you can download a 200+ page pdf of the recipes.
Rainee
Aww- I got verclempt at the lil yellow car leaving. Good luck Spud!
Blessings, Spud! Drive safe and enjoy exploring the world!
For a woman that loves to go out to eat at any opportunity (and I, myself, join those ranks,) you sure do cook a lot. What, may I ask, is your favorite dish to cook and/or eat?
I too feel weepy.
Is she REALLY all grown up?
{Sigh}
Time is a-flyin’…
Aw… good luck Spud! I hope she does well in school but I REALLY hope she misses her mama and calls often to tell you that 🙂
Empty nest? I need to you need to pick up the dead bird with guts and stick it in the Spud’s bed. Ewwww Sorry that’s gross, but I just cannot help myself.
After the baby robin story, I got totally choked up by the nest=empty thing. Probably just a coincidence, with the juxtaposition of the two events, but it made me really SAAAAAD.
(Whee…first time I ever worked “juxtaposition” into a sentence!)
Here is ze recipe:
LOUISIANA RICE DRESSING
(DIRTY RICE)
3 sets chicken giblets,
1/2 cup minced parsley ground
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 large onions, ground
1/2 cup ground green
1 cup ground celery onions
6 tablespoons butter
Salt, pepper and cayenne
1/4 cup oyster liquid
4 cups cooked rice
2 dozen oysters, ground
Sauté giblets, onions and celery in butter until onions and
celery are soft and giblets are brown. Add remaining
ingredients, except seasonings and rice. Stir, cover and
simmer 10 minutes. Add seasonings; stir in cooked rice
and heat thoroughly. Yields enough stuffing for 10-pound
turkey or may be baked in greased casserole in 350° F.
oven for 20 minutes. Yield: 8 servings.
Note: 1 1/2 cups ground beef, veal or pork may be
substituted for giblets. The real secret is that the oysters,
giblets and vegetables are ground, not chopped.
I think the difference between the two Fred/food incidents wasn’t that you weren’t eating the food. I believe it’s that he made a face the first time, and just made a suggestion the second time. Would you have been offended if he’d eaten a bite or two and then said, “The chicken tastes a bit “chickeny.” His “making a face” looks like he’s rejecting your cooking or that it’s just plain awful.
Just an observation. I could be wrong.
BYE SPUD!! *waves* MAKE SURE YOU CALL US ALL WHEN YOU GET THERE.
heh. I was walking around the Whole Foods today, tasting things, and I tried a bite of organic chicken sausage with spinach, and thought “Oh, THAT’S what Fred meant by ‘chickeny’.” And it SO was.
Also, yesterday when I checked the pool skimmer, there were three frogs and two mice in it. No, maybe they’re moles – they have stumpy tails. But anyway, only one frog was alive. I’m glad a rodent wasn’t. There would have been shrieking.
That’s it? She didn’t even wave? Arrrg. No dramatic “I’ll see you in September” wave on the way down the drive?
Sending good traveling vibes and big love to Spud – and you guys too.
I thought my mother in law was the only one who said “stupid” things like that! (sorry Fred)
“It tastes fishy!” “It smells like fish!”
WTF is it supposed to taste/smell like!? And she wonders why she hasn’t been invited out here for dinner for EONS!
I had Zatarains for dinner tonight – so good. I use ground turkey and as my own personal touch I add the cheese packet from a family size mac & cheese (to the family size dirty rice dinner, of course) for some good cheesy dirty rice!
Safe trip to the Spud and happy new adventures for the graduate.
As a kid, I was horrified by the possibility that I might die with my eyes open. I gradually got over it. However, I’m still processing the notion that one could literally “spill one’s guts”, while figuratively “kicking the bucket.”
Euphemisms. There’s a reason for them. A good reason. And for quotation marks too.
You will have to plant these next year. They are called Golden Jubilee tomatoes. They are very low acid and they are so sweet. They melt in your mouth. These tomatoes are not for salads or sandwiches. They make a killer salsa. I will just peel them and eat them like a ripe peach. I bought some plants by mistake because someone mixed the tags. They are awesome. I love homegrown tomatoes grew up on them. But these are a life changing tomato experience! awesome!
dang! emtpy nest. I don’t like the sound of those words!
Sorry to tell you Robyn, but most people do poop when they die. Though not necessarily all your guts. I forget the exact reasoning behind it, something about releasing excrement. Sorry, I’m sure that’s TMI. An educational bit from a sad family death.
Oh…seeing the Spud drive away brings back so many memories of watching my parents wave as I drove away and then crying a good two to three hours down the rode. Best to the Spud on her new adventure…it will be good for her.
we all poop when we die, even marilyn monroe crapped out when she crapped out of this life. this is the smelly side of the natural process of losing muscle control.
My recipe for dirty rice – get in the car, go to Trader Joes and get Tony Chacere’s Dirty Rice Mix. It is fabulous and the easiest thing EVER!! Don’t use Zatarain’s – yucky!!! Of course I feel that way about all of their stuff, so there you have it. I use either ground turkey or 94% lean ground meat. And make sure you put green onions(tops only) into it…mmmm, heaven.
I’ll be going through the empty nest experience next month, and I hope I handle it as well as you have.
Good luck to the Spud!
As you are the only person I know (well sorta) that is canning. Do you have any non-pressure cooker recipes for pickles? The daughter has grown some and now “wants to make pickles”.
Good grief….you guys are sure in for touching the dead animals (mouse, bird), please tell me that you go in the house and wash your hands!!!!
Bye, Spud! Have a safe trip and good luck!!
Yeah, I’d go with the Zatarain’s stuff, too. Their stuff is the bomb…I especially lurve the jamabalaya!
Bye Spud!!! Be safe and call your mother!
Ok…this is like the cheaters version of dirty rice but it is fabulous and NO chicken livers (which, sorry but I can’t cook nor eat those lovelies 🙂
1 lb ground beef
1 lb sausage (your pref, but the hot makes it mighty fine)
2 packages brown gravy mix (I’ve found McCormicks to be best, flavor wise)
4 cups cooked rice (I use brown)
scallions
cook up your rice…while it is cooking brown your sausage and hamburger (depending on how much fat …drain a bit…but leaving some helps with the the mixture process of the gravy mix) When sausage and hamburger is browned, add gravy mix and mix well into the meat. Add in scallions (chopped). Mix in rice. Stir well.
Serve (to Fred who will say…this taste kind of rice-y heh!)
Yummy, cheaters version of dirty rice.