The Crab Chronicles

Food Rant

Do you ever read a recipe on the internet and get angry? Sometimes I read things on Pioneer Woman's site and I'm all really? Does it have to be that complicated? Because sometimes she puts things on there that are just way too complicated.Ditto for the Food network. Why be so complicated?!

And sometimes she puts recipes that look good, and then she throws in jalapeno peppers. ACK. Nooooooooo.... they don't go in chocolate cake.

Just kidding.

Take this recipe for Pasta Carbonara. Looks yummy. Then she dumps in green peas. NO NO NO NO NO! Or, Hell to the No, as Madea would say. Eat a salad on the side. No reason to unnecessarily complicate it.

Food gets fussy sometimes on TV.

I was thinking the other day about some silly things that you see all the time on the Food Network. Just dumb stuff.

Like, people wearing tons of rings and bracelets while they COOK. [cough cough, Guy Fieri, cough cough] Who does that?

I want clean hands and arms when I cook because I am frequently washing my hands. Keep germ-harboring bling away from my food, y'all.

You see cooks all the time NOT washing their produce and NOT washing their hands. Yuck. Great example there. [Rachel Ray is the exception, I must say. She does wash her hands.]

And garlic. Fresh garlic rocks. Why doesn't anyone on there ever use a garlic press, though?! Slicing garlic cloves with a knife is time consuming and silly. You get much more flavor from a press. They are not hard to find, either.

Grating rinds of lemons and oranges and putting them in the food makes me want to throw something at the TV. Where do you think pesticides are sprayed? On the outside. Duh. Oranges are also painted orange, did you know that?! Do YOU want paint and pesticides in your food?

Didn't think so.

If you live in California or Florida and can get citrus that is organic and pristine, more power to you. I can't find it here without a lot of driving and outrageous prices, so I will peel my fruit.

Cooking pasta al dente. I like soft pasta. I do not want it chewy. I don't care what the convention is, give me soft macaroni. My friend Lesleigh was here once and we served her some pasta salad, and the pasta was very soft. She was amazed how good it was, and we talked about it. I don't care how Italians in Italy eat it. This is America. Cook your pasta twice as long as the package says. You'll be amazed how good it tastes.

Why do none of the TV cooks ever use garlic powder or onion powder?! I love fresh onion and garlic but who has all that time to peel and chop? If I'm in a hurry I grab the powder. It dissolves and leaves behind deliciousness.

Ditto for broth. Cook a pot roast in canned broth, or better yet Campbell's soup Beef Consomme, and some fruity read wine and soy sauce. That's all you need. You don't need to make your own broth.

I also don't need to see any onions chopped. I've seen a million of 'em chopped up fine on TV. So you can chop one. Big deal. Move on to something interesting.

Michael asked me recently, "What happens to all that food?" meaning the feast that the TV chef had prepared and was nibbling on, by herself. "I guess the crew eats it," I shrugged.

I grew up watching The Galloping Gourmet. At the end of the show he would invite a couple of audience members to come up and eat what he'd fixed. I like that idea.

Showing one cook sampling her or her food and talking about how good it is?! I'm over it.

Here's an idea for a funny sketch: show a Food network chef cooking something, then she takes a bite and makes a sour face. "YUCK! Screwed that up. Dang. Hand me a beer to wash my mouth out."

Not holding my breath on that one, but wouldn't it be funny?!

Apartments and Choices

Yesterday was like a Monday on crack, all day. Way too much to do, and I could hardly catch my breath. It's going to take some time to get used to a summer schedule.

A friend of mine posted on Facebook about some noisy neighbors. She is recently divorced and living in an apartment for the first time in years with her daughters. That's the bad part about apartments, neighbors who will.not.shut.up. I lived in apartments for twenty years.

She posted about her upstairs neighbors making whoopee in the room directly over hers and screaming and carrying on. I told her to do what I did when that happened to me some years ago. Get a broom and bang on your ceiling. I think I also shouted "SHUT UP OR I WILL CALL THE POLICE!!" That ruined their mood. I didn't care. Losing sleep makes me really cranky. If they are not going to be considerate about noise, why should I?

The nice thing about living in an apartment is that if something needs to be fixed, you can pick up the phone and call the office, and it gets fixed. That was also true in my condo, for things on the outside of the building. Inside, I had to pay to fix it. It was still less expensive than a house. I couldn't garden, though, which I will miss whenever I move back to the condo. [Right now it's rented]

I was tickled the other day when my friend Paul came over and I was able to give him some baby zucchinis and cukes form my garden. It's not even June! I hope the rain keeps up. Here in Atlanta, we sometimes get Hurricane Rain, without the high winds and need to evacuate like our friends on the coast. We also have sort of bizarre weather, though, as in today it's supposed to be 92, and Friday the high is supposed to be 78, with 60% chance of rain. Huh?!

Michael stayed home all day yesterday and didn't go to the pool or hang out with his friends. He feels very self-conscious about his acne, is the main reason, I am pretty sure. I've taken him to the dermatologist and he's on medication. I'm doing what I can. He's just really unhappy, still, that there was no miracle cure. I do not know what to do about it. Nothing I say helps him feel better.

A friend of mine at work who has a 20 year old son said "Dee, it's just hormones. a 15-16 year old boy is just filled with hormones and they are moody as hell." I asked her how long she thought he would be like this and she said "Four years."

ACK!

I saw a great post on Facebook and posted it to Michael's wall: You are not happy because all is well. All is well because you are happy.

Happiness is a CHOICE. I firmly believe that. I just wish I could convince my son of it...

Sandwich and Stereotypes

It's been a weird, discombobulated sort of weekend. I had a number of plans that just didn't come to pass. I did get to spend some time with Lesleigh yesterday, and she stayed for dinner last night, which was fun.

I cooked hamburgers on the grill, and made homemade White Acre peas, squash, and a peach cobbler that turned out pretty well.

My friend Paul came over today to work on Mother's computer, and we had some time to chat.

I find as I grow older and Mike gets older and more independent, I need time to hang out with my friends. It keeps me sane.

I am the middle of the "sandwich generation" - caring for my child and my mom.I love them both and it's my privilege to care for them, but I need a break now and again.

Michael and I took Colton yesterday, and we saw Men in Black III, which is a really fun romp of a movie. I recommend it totally, as long as you're not expecting high art. It's just fun. There are some unexpectedly touching moments, too.

My old friend from high school, Jeff Joslin is also in it, which makes it fun for me.

I was sort of disgusted to see a preview for something called Hatfields and McCoys, which is going to be on History Channel tonight. All I could think was well whoop-de-doo, that's how you combine EVERY southern stereotype imaginable and set it to a redneck-on-crack sountrack, and let's see how many people will be watching that hogwash?! Did the feud actually happen? Yep. Does that make it a great subject for a miniseries? Not necessarily. I adore watching Kevin Costner and Bill Paxton, but this whole concept is just disgusting.

Can't I EVER see the south portrayed honestly onscreen, without playing up all the negative stereotypes?! Dang. If you've never been to the south you'd think we are either Gone With the Wind racist nitwits or Dukes of Hazzard rednecks. Hollyweird keeps recycling the same old stuff.

To add insult to injury, they filmed this in ROMANIA, according to the review in the New York Times.

We're about the same as everyone in other parts of the country, except we generally have better manners and we talk slower.

Period.

Grrr.......

I will say this, all these guys [who are in the movie] are awfully attractive, to an old lady like me, so I might tune in just to see them...

From left, Tom Berenger, Powers Boothe, Kevin Costner, and Bill Paxton

All the News

The past couple of days have been quiet, but in reality lots of stuff is happening all around me. It's like this quote I love: "On a cellular level, I am really quite busy."

If you saw the word "cellular" and thought phone, WRONG.

Some of the stuff happening around me is sort of amusing and weird.

For instance, I have a neighbor who appears to be pregnant, but is she?! How rude, if I asked her and she's not. She's a tall, skinny lady, but the belly is pooching out there. She has a child Mike's age, and a 3 year old. She's only a few years younger than me. So it's unlikely she's pregnant, but who knows?! The curiosity is killing me.

A friend of mother's had a terrible mishap the other day. Her husband wears a hearing aide. They were packing to go on a big trip to Europe. Their dog ate hubby's hearing aide. I know it's mean, but I thought that was very funny. [I can say that now because they are in Europe, not reading the blog...!] Hubby got a replacement hearing aide before they left, BTW. All is well.

Except the dog probably thought he was passing a football.... LOL

Speaking of yucky stuff, I have Facebook friends who post photos of food they have made, and 95% of the time it looks utterly disgusting. I mean, like something the dog puked up. There is one now I keep seeing and my stomach lurches every time I look at it.

Please stop posting pictures of your meals, unless you are a wicked good photographer. Cakes and cookies are OK. Anything with gravy?! Just say NO.

I was trying to not go anywhere this weekend, just stay at home and putter around, and of course I ended up running around in the heat yesterday. [It was close to 90 yesterday and will be 90 today.]

Michael needs a new pair of sandals about once a year. It's too hot around here to wear tennis shoes all summer. So yesterday we went to the local discount shoe place, Shoe Carnival, and got him some new ones. We were in and out in 5 minutes, which is unusual. He's normally quite slow about chooing things. He wears a men's size 8. He insisted on getting a size 9. I hope he will grow into those. He has long, skinny feet.

When he first came home, his little foot fit neatly into my hand with lots of room left over.

Michael told me for his birthday [in July] he wants a Deadmau5 tee shirt. A group that sounds like "deadmouse"?! I was aghast. I told him I wouldn't get him one unless I listened to some of their music. It sounds like it was made by space aliens, a lot of it. I did find this song that I actually like. It sounds like European music from the 80's, very retro and cool.

I will probably get him a tee shirt. At least it's not rap. I despise rap.

Michael played in a round robin tennis tournament at the pool last night. I sat there for 3 hours, sweating, keeping score, and watching teenagers play tennis and flirt. They reminded me of young colts.

On the plus side, I got to talk to a mom I really like, and get to know her better. That was pleasant.

I don't really know anything else. My exciting weekend plans include housecleaning, clipping Coco, and laundry.

Hope y'all have a great day!

Lime Love

I learned early in life that in our house, lime juice rules. Not lemon juice - who wants to deal with seed? - fresh lime juice. In the Thompson house, limes are da bomb.

[OK, that's all the slang I will try to use.]

Limes are very nutritious. They burn fat. So the recipe below is health food. Don't say a word about the sour cream. (You can substitute yogurt if you want to, but I can't vouch for the results.)

When you make tuna salad with canned tuna, a good squeeze of lime juice makes it special. Ditto for any fish. Want the tastiest baked fish ever? Coat your fish with mayonnaise, lime juice, and a sprinkle of onion powder. Bake at 350 for 10-30 minutes, depending on how thick the fish is. YUM.

My favorite lime juice recipe is the one below, for Elva's Fruit Salad. Michael has been bugging me for a week to make it.I thought I'd give it a shot, for a yummy holiday weekend treat. I love it too.

ELVA'S FRUIT SALAD

 

1 cup sour cream

1/4 cup sugar

juice of 1/2 lime

Mix above ingredients until sugar is dissolved, then taste.It should be quite tart so add more lime juice if you need to.

Fold in:

1 cup miniature marshmallows

1 tall can mandarin oranges,drained

1 tall can pineapple tidbits, drained [I like fresh pineapple]

2 cups washed ,seedless grapes [green look pretty]

Cover and chill til ready to serve, at least an hour ahead -- or more- if possible, to soften the marshmallows.

Just before serving, fold in 1 cup toasted walnuts, lighted salted.**

Elva: "I'm pretty sure I've shared this recipe many times but I had to look it up so thought I'd send it because it is so easy and good for a holiday week end. Measurements don't have to be exact. Mike has been asking for it so we'll double it in order to have enough."

My aunt Jane also has made this salad many times to take to events, and it's always a hit.

TOASTED WALNUTS

Take 1-2 cups of walnuts and put them in a big plastic bag with some melted butter and sea salt or kosher salt [they stick better]. Toss your nuts around. [hahahaha] Put 'em on a baking sheet [covered with foil if you're lazy like me] and run that in a 350 degree oven for about 10-15 minutes. YUM.

Below is my photo of the fruit salad I made this morning. Doesn't it look pretty?! Mother said "You couldn't put it in a PRETTY bowl?!" Well no, I'm not a Food Stylist and I don't want to wash a glass bowl. [I know it looks like there is bacon on top but nope, those are the toasted walnuts.]

I went out to water the gardens this morning and look what I found - itty bitty baby zucchini!!Aren't they precious?!

If you can't find the zucchini, put on your reading glasses...!

 

Simple

I took some flak recently for a post I did where I stated that I crave a porch and a rocking chair. I crave simplicity. I guess that's a sign of getting old, but I don't care. I have had so much drama the past few years, that I truly crave a simpler existence.

I finally have a steady job, and I like my job.

I finally don't have to worry about my daughter's behavior. [I still worry about her, but I don't have to deal with her right in front of me, is what I mean.]

The surprising thing is that my son has come to kind of a similar conclusion about wanting simplicity. He is not into anything overly fussy or complicated. I think that's pretty mature for a 15 year old.

We were in Walmart the other day and he asked me to buy him a package of plain white tee shirts. He wore one to school every day for the last week of school. When he came home yesterday, several of his friends had written cute messages on his shirt. They are all girls, BTW. He was very concerned about not washing out what they had written.

He also decided recently to get a summer haircut. We got it done last night after tennis. Here's the new 'do:

Hair gets oily and sweaty, and contributes to acne, is his reasoning, and I think he is correct. I told him the only problem with this haircut is that is makes him look too grownup!

I have decided to spend some time this summer trying to get things in my house cleaned up, give away a lot of my junk, and throw out a lot of stuff I don't need or want. It's a project that will take a while. Just deciding which of my 5,000 books to give away will be a challenge. I feel compelled to do it, though. I have entirely too many THINGS, and I want far fewer.

I am not looking forward to this weekend. In fact, I dread it. Memorial Day weekend, 1972, was when my beloved Papaw died. Today in 1996 was the day my dad was finally diagnosed with cancer. It's just never been a good weekend for our family. Hopefully this year it will be drama-free and relaxing.

Last Day of School

It's Mike's last day of school. I am relieved. No more homework for ME! Yay! Nobody tells you this before you're a parent but YOU end up completely revisiting school, through your child. You become a tutor, a school advocate, and on occasion, penniless, as you're socked with all sorts of activity fees and book fees, and everything else.

The parent gets "schooled" as much as the child.

Michael is starting high school in August, which blows my mind. I was talked to another parent the other day and she was saying Lakeside is such a huge school, and I laughed. Farrague High School, where I attended from 1976-1980 is a HUGE school. Last time I was in Knoxville, we drove around the school a bit, and my kids eyes were like saucers, staring at the enormous campus. There were more than 3,000 kids there when I was there.

She was right about the social challenges of a ginormous school. You can feel swallowed up if you don't have a core group of buddies.

I always made friends in each of my classes, but I only had a few close friends in high school, a tiny group. I did a lot of Drama Club and Newspaper activities, and Chorus. Those things were what made the whole experience fun.

Michael was in an incredibly foul humor last night, for unknown reasons. He said he was happy and sad. He will miss his school friends. I told him to get contact info and maybe he could see them over the summer.

Transitions are hard for him. He had to leave behind his birthmom [however abusive and awful, she was his original mom] and go to an orphanage. Then he had to leave his friends there are come to a new country, new family, new language, new everything. Now here's another big transition. I am so sympathetic but there's not much I can do to help.

Here he is in 2008. How time flies...

Carrying Food

Mother and I were talking with Michael tonight about different courses he can take and clubs he can join next year in high school. Mother recalled that my brother had taken a cooking course once and loved it. He is now a FOODIE. I am too. It's cements our relationship. Even when we're pissed off at each other which happens occasionally [cough cough] we can still talk about recipes and foods.

The south is all about food.

My family is all about food. Good food. Food that doesn't come out of a box, usually.

I was inordinately delighted to put into my frittata last night the first produce from my garden, an Italian eggplant, sliced thin and sauteed, along with the onion, red pepper, mushrooms, and other delicious ingredients.

I don't even eat raw tomatoes, but I fuss and fret over the tomato plants in my garden like you wouldn't believe.

I took my boss a tomato from my garden last summer and he washed it and ate it like an apple. I thought wow, what a non-southern thing to do. Where's the white bread, Duke's mayonnaise, and salt?! But I was very flattered. He then told me I needed to bring the other partner some tomatoes.

Score.

I've missed some excellent blogs over at a blog I like called The South in My Mouth, including this one, which I heartily agree with. Mother and I were talking today about her mother (I knew her as Mamaw) and how she considered Chef Boyardee spaghetti and meatballs an exotic dish.

Mamaw was old school. A wonderful old-fashioned southern cook. I will be eating her fried chicken, bisquits and gravy in heaven one day, but the most "different" thing I ever saw her eat was Egg Foo Young.

Anyway, what I loved about Catherine's post was how correct she was about southern mamas, and how one responds to big events. It's simple, really, you "carry food."

My brother and I grew up seeing Mother and Daddy "carry food." The conversation might go something like this:

Dad: "Phil Jones lost his mama last night."

Mother: "Oh dear, can you get out the big yellow pot? I will start the soup right now."

They carried supper to the new neighbors. They carried supper to the couple who just had their first baby. They carried supper to dad's assistant who had just moved into a new house.

When we got a second freezer, Mother started to freeze spaghetti sauce, chili, homemade soup. That way she could instantly produce homemade, yummy food.She just had to time it right so it was thawed by the time Dad got to the house.

Corn muffins freeze well. My mother makes the best corn muffins in the world, the recipe of humorist Lewis Grizzard. I actually shared the recipe not too long ago.

My aunt Jane makes the best banana bread in the world, and she keeps loaves of it in the freezer to carry to folks. I start drooling the moment I hear Mom say "Don and Jane are going to stop by."

When I go to heaven, I will get to eat some of Jane's banana bread hot from the oven, slathered in real butter.[Excuse me while I wipe off some drool]

Anyway, I digressed. As usual.

When my Papaw died in 1972 there was a lot of yummy funeral food. However, nobody brought meat. Mother was appalled. After that, she resolved that when she took food to a funeral it would be a dish containing MEAT.

One cannot sustain life on potato salad or tuna casserole. Not at Elva's house, anyway. [Sorry, vegetarian friends..]

Beef stew, chili, homemade soup - these are the Mother-approved hearty foods for folks who are coping with life's big events. (I like to take things like chicken and rice, or maybe a quiche.)

When my dad died we got about 10 veggie trays and cold cut trays from Kroger. It was July and hot as hell. We didn't particularly wish for veggie trays or cold cut trays. One kind neighbor brought small aluminum loaf pans filled with homemade macaroni and cheese. My brother and I thanked her profusely and hid them. We pulled them out and feasted after everyone had left. God bless her.

One of Mother's close friends cannot cook. She can prepare food that is healthy but she doesn't season anything. She won't even salt it. Her food is as bland as baby food. When I was a kid and ate over there I didn't mind, but as an adult?! No thanks. She brought a lot of food when Dad died. We thanked her profusely and tossed most of it out. She could make good deviled eggs. We ate those.

That's the thing about living in a small town. You know who can cook and who can't cook. Sometimes when you go to a party at the home of a non-cook it's wise to find out if the food was catered, or the host's daughter made the food, or whatever. If you like to go hungry and all that's offered is chips and salsa and maybe some store-bought cookies, you want to be prepared.

When I was in college and started cooking for my friends I always began each dinner party with this announcement: "If this isn't fit to eat, Domino's Pizza is on the speed dial."

I never had to keep that promise.

Of course, hungry college students will eat anything...

I like the fact that my kids have seen me "carry food" to people, many times. I hope they will continue the tradition.

Connections

I was thinking yesterday about connections, and today I hear that a cousin of mine has died. I didn't really know her too well, but I am praying for the family. I have a huge extended family, because all of my grandparents had between 8 and 12 siblings, most of whom grew up and had children.

My cousin Warren is my 4th cousin, I think. We have to go back 4 generations to find the common ancestor, who died decades before either of us were born.

Doesn't matter. I cherish Warren and Kim. I feel closer to them than some of my family I am closer to by blood.

I used to be very interested in family genealogy and I have charts of all my cousins and grandparents and great-grandparents. I love charts.

Too bad all of life can't be neatly organized in charts.

[OTOH, I despise spreadsheets. I can make them, and use them, but Excel is not as user-friendly as a good old-fashioned chart, IMHO.]

I also heard from an old friend of mine from Home Depot days, and rejoiced in the fact she is doing very well and is not far from me, working in downtown. Hopefully we can have lunch one day.

Michael heard yesterday that he has passed the CRCT, so his standardized test scores were OK and he can pass on to 9th grade in peace, thanks be to God. He feels like he is going to pass Math, too, thank goodness. His attitude and demeanor are totally altered, much for the better.

We had a frittata for dinner, loaded with veggies and cheese, very filling, and some homemade applesauce I made on Sunday. He ate good portions of both. An hour later he said "Do we have anything to eat?!"

Yep, he's growing! Had shot up half an inch the other day when measured. Thanks for the growing prayers. Keep 'em going. We'll buy more groceries.

I feel a lot of support from other adoptive moms out there. We are all connected in such a profound way. I am always enlightened, inspired, and even left in tears by the blogs I read every day, those of my friend Cindy B, Cindy L, and Stephanie. There are others I read weekly, too - too many to list here.

A friend of mine has been texting Alesia, thanks be to God. I know she's alive. She's not speaking/texting to me right now. I keep praying for her, though, many times a day.

Despite the fact that I don't have much time to socialize, I feel very connected to a huge community of friends, cousins, neighbors, etc.

Some people say computers are a bad thing, but I totally disagree. Facebook is like a virtual cocktail party, with everyone chattering about this or that, some things profound, some trivial. Nevertheless, it provides a sense of community, and people crave that.

I don't really know more news. Hope everyone has a blessed Tuesday!

Remember the Rainbow

Anxiety. I slept all night in a vivid dream of trying to do research for a paper, and not knowing how to get it done. I woke up worried I was going to have to turn in the paper and wondering how the heck to get my hours in at work, Mike to school, etc. AND get that paper done.

I woke up in a total panic.

Then I remembered - I've been out of school more than 20 years. Finished my master's in 1990.

Maybe I was having a premonition of checking Mike's grades a few minutes ago and finding he has a 72 in Math. A 72!! That's two points away from failing. The grade report shows a bunch of assignments either have not been turned in or he has zeros in them. I told him he HAS to talk to his teacher and figure out a solution to that mess, or there will be a consequence here at home.

Please pray for him to get his butt in gear. This is his last week of school. He has A's and B's in everything else.

We were running errands last night after a very intense rainstorm late in the afternoon, and this is what we saw:

Michael said "Let's go to the end! We will get a lot of money!"

I wish it were that easy, son. I wish.

The rainbow did give me hope, though. Whenever I see a rainbow I feel happy and hopeful. Maybe that's a silly reaction, but that's how I feel.

There's an old song called "Look for the Rainbow" and I hear that in my head, too.

I woke up this morning and it was pouring rain. Great for the gardens, not so much for driving to school. I turned on the computer and clicked over to the Weather Channel site. I'd looked at the forecast last night and it said 30% chance of rain today. The screen said, "Rain will stop at 6:45." This was about 6:35. The rain was LOUD.I thought, how do they know what time the rain will stop? How silly.

At 6:46, I noticed the rain had stopped and the birds started singing. Another hopeful thing. OH-KAY.... So there's a psychic that works for the Weather Channel. Awesome.

What will the third thing be, I wonder?! My 65% Irish superstitious brain thinks like that.