Archive for May, 2012

Wailings from a messy kitchen wench…

May 25, 2012

On my day off, I love to cook and bake. Oh, the joy of taking the miscellanious out of my fridge and turning into a lemon meringue pie, back-ass-wards Pad Thai, zesty Korean flank steak…. pancakes. Today was no exception. I pinched a nerve… while waking up this morning… so the gym was outta the question. But I will be DAMNED if I don’t get to play in some manner after an eight-day stretch of work. Last Monday, I made a batch of basil lemon pistaccio cookies for a wino party I attended. My cookies were a savory take on what the USA has come to associate with the word “cookie”. I cut the sugar in half and relied more upon the natural sugars of the lemon with the intention of turning the baked good into a healthy after dinner option.

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Angry Pistaccios

This wasn’t really the best idea.

Today’s model followed the recipe to the T. Ehhh, that’s a lie. I followed the steps but after leaving the butter out on the counter to become “room temperature”, I kinda just skimmed everything else. Additionally, since I just bought the Iphone for myself, I’ve become absolutely obsessed with documenting everything I do: Trips to flower shops, vain mirror photos… spoons on the sidewalk. So, I was taking photos of my silly cooking afternoon and naturally, since I wasn’t pay attention to the actual act of baking, I made a few mistakes.

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For tonight, I bake.

 Like spilling 3/4s of a cup of sugar all over my baby laptop computer. My kitchen is currently full of computers. The one I’m typing on, the one I’m spilling on and the one that’s playing music: The Iphone. The baby got it full in the face as I was trying to open a brand new box of store brand sugar. Store brand anything is usually packaged by the cheapest means possible, rendering it a messy challenge to open. Today’s example was no different.  As I was cutting out a nice hole for the sugar to flow from as opposed to using their “for your convenience” pouring spout, everything spiraled out of control. My scissors slipped and the sugar box slid out from my hand and onto the computer… white granules happily escaped their cardboard prison freely onto my baby laptop. The words I expressed upon this unexpected escape were not righteous to say the least.

Baking came to a stand still as I tried to pound the sugar out of my computer first all over the floor – dumb! – then over the sink. If you’ve never spanked your computer, I can’t say I necessarily recommend it, but I’m sure I was a real scene for the comedic. I got out maybe 2/3s of the sugar but I know for a fact, a least 1 tablespoon ain’t goin’ anywhere. ENTER and W don’t work correctly at the moment. I’ve been blowing and blowing to try and get the grit outta the keys, but um… it’s like sand, damn stuff gets everywhere. ImageWhatever. FML. I went to open the bottle of rose’ cava that I bought spur of the moment. I wasn’t about to pay $$$ for bubbles just for myself. Besides, I’d spent a little coin on the pretty flower arrangement sitting on my kitchen table. So, the bottle I bought wasn’t chilled yet. I threw the thing into an ice bath when I came home from grocery shopping for about ten minutes prior to baking/enjoying. After getting sugar everywhere, I deemed that moment a perfect time for an Intermission. Bubbles!!!

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Bubbles to the face

Do you know how many bottles of sparkling wine I have opened at work and for pleasure? I couldn’t even guess. Not a clue. So when I tell you that I gave the Cava an ice bath, please understand that I knew dropping the temp of the pressurized liquid wasn’t the most savory option, but it had to be done. Um, upon twisting the cage, I immediately regretted that damn ice bath. Bubbles were everywhere! My floor, my hand, the sink of courses and on the coffee maker… somehow. Pink everywhere. And not even GOOD pink, just pink.

So, I got to clean up a second mess. I think maybe I should stop baking. I love it SO much, but I get very very distracted. I forget to put something in my batter, I read the wrong measurement. Por examplo: 1 TLSP lemon juice became 1/3c and 1/3c chopped basil became 1 TBSP. Can I have adderoll for cooking/baking purposed exclusively? Is there a prescription for that?Image

 

Oh well. My cookies rock. The floor got a cleaning. Nick isn’t mad about the dumb baby computer since he got a stupid MacBook Air from his company and I’m still smiling. Now if only I could fix this pinched nerve… 

I supoose I ought to either invent or purchase something to safely hold my laptops over my counters for when I can’t remember a recipe and I need to reference online materials. This constant spilling of ingredients has just got to stop. Any suggestions? I’ll be num-num’ing on a batter-laden beater until you call…. yummmmmmmy!

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10 Things That I Judge about You

May 6, 2012

While this is not directed at anyone in particular, I can’t help but wonder who will be aghast at my boldness. Or perhaps this will secure a new habit or the removal of one in a person’s life and they’ll be that much better for it.

1. Bathroom cleanliness: When I walk into your bathroom and you don’t have, say, SOAP, I know for a fact you probably didn’t just run out this morning. You haven’t had suds in there for weeks. And where is the toilet paper? Ohhh! It’s right next to the toilet on the floor, waiting for misdirected pee. Wonderful, I’m thrilled to use your floor TP. Or the hand towel with green tooth paste smeared down the middle for me to dry my un-soaped hands upon after I’m done using ground toilet paper. Is there a ring around the toilet to the extent of foul that I literally have to hover and hold just to feel sanitary? And the shower? I personally have about five different face soaps to choose from and I like to mix it up with the shampoos too. I judge what you like to use to clean yourself. Do you like Neutragena? Jergans? Do you even have face soap? I love seeing what people carry in their showers! Often I get new ideas of what I should be using. My girl Melissa has SO many wonderful goodies for me to choose from, I may not leave her shower for an hour because I want to lather, rise, repeat with every shampoo she has to offer!

2. Cell phones during dinner: Going out to dinner is one of my favorite things to do with either my friends or a date. And I completely understand in certain situtations, business must continue while I’m stuffing my face with jumbo lump crab and sipping on Champagne. However, Facebook checking, Google, searching and naturally the ex-girlfriend texts are most decidedly off-limits. I realize I can be dull every now and then, but please, for Christ sake, just tell me I suck at conversation. I’ll take that over the passive aggressive I-phone app shopping. I can’t believe this has to be one of my 10 things I judge about you. No one has retained their dinner table training through the years of technology development apparently. Winning.

3. Ticks that involve body parts: In my high school public speaking class, my teacher brought to light the nervous ticks people exhibit during uncomfortable moments. I play with my hair, talk with my hands, and smile off to the side of my mouth. However, never, I repeat, NEVER would I tick in a manner that literally repulsed the person with whom I was speaking. I am shocked and dismayed by the crotch grabbing, nose picking, ear wax searching and pants adjusting that is allowed during face to face conversation. I’m going to start clucking or making some sort of animal noise any time someone stuffs a finger in their nose when I’m talking with them just to see what happens. “Why did you just … Laura, did you just quack?” “Yes, why is your finger in your ear drum right now?” I can’t be asked to accept this type of behavior. It’s horribly rude! Imagine you offer your hand to greet a person who just watch you fix your crotch! What must they think of you? I certainly don’t want you touching me, and I know you! How much more so for a complete stranger/client/lady/boss/etc.

4. Silverware Warrior: Silverware was made to gentrify society. It keeps the hands clean, the table free of flying food and hopefully, secures that your food makes a successful trip to your mouth. Cutlery is to be held in a firm, graceful manner with poise and purpose. It immediately reflects on your upbringing. Ask my nana. That’s what she told me and nobody argues with Nanny. As of late, I’ve noticed something grossly disturbing: Silverware is a weapon. A fork has become a cattle prod meant to jab and dash, smearing sauce around the plate followed by a finger to push a side onto the utensil. Who needs a knife when you have an index finger? A fork needs to be held by your fingers not in your fist like a dagger. A knife is held with your index finger pointed downward, thumb pointed forward, and the rest of the digits face behind the handle towards your body. I immediately feel anxiety when I see this dining behavior as I know that you can NEVER meet Nanny. She’s Italian and she’ll eat you up with a sharp, disciplinary tone. Then I’ll hear about “That boy/girl with the horrible table manners. Please don’t bring them to the club again, Law-rah.”

5. Facebook pictures of food: My brother’s girlfriend brought this to my attention recently and I couldn’t agree more. When you make food, it looks SO much better in real-time than online. In fact, food typically exhibits a greasy gloss from the digital camera’s flash to an extent that I’m actually throwing up in my mouth at the thought of you eating that shit. To be honest, I have fallen victim to posting pictures last year of a baller stew I made. Even when I posted the picture, I wasn’t happy with how my dinner looked. Why do we post these things? Who cares? It’s just food. Oh first world problems…

6. Uncontrolled Body Odor: While bathing is traditionally a typical daily function, I see no reason to demand it. Should the need arise when you smell like a boar, perhaps washing your armpits is required for the sanitary sake of mankind. However, at any point… at any point of the day when you notice that you don’t feel fresh, you must attend to this matter. I beseech you. I have broken up with men over the issue of body odor. As I once said in my public speaking class of long ago: It is better to smell way too good and have the scent wear off then to smell even a little bit bad and have that problem only get worse.

Make up at the Gym: When you come pay homage to the iron gods after work, naturally you’re bound to still have on the day’s colors. This section is not directed towards you. I’m talking about the Jersey Shore ladies who stroll in to the gym at 8am on a Wednesday dolled up to the nines. Boobs are everywhere, bright pink lipstick on cologine injected lips, and hoop earings. My spin girls and I look like sweaty morning girls next to you, and you just look like a beauty queen contestant. The gym is where we go to make ourselves look better during the rest of the day; it’s certainly not the place to attempt to woo a mate while sitting on a back machine. This 40-something year old gal at my gym just started working out with one of my trainer friends and she looks absolutely ridiculous doing squats with a face full of bronzer. Recognize there is a time and a place for clownish makeup, my gym isn’t it!

Flossing Issue: I don’t carry dental floss around in my purse; I’m not that anal about this point. But make no mistake, if you do not ever floss, everyone knows it. Without having a lick of dentistry knowledge in my repertoire, I know that plaque builds up between your teeth during the day and into the evening and must be conquered at night prior to bedding. If you have never opened your mouth for minty string, I beg you to reconsider. The plaque build up makes for one of the most recognizable, putrid smells I’ve ever encountered. It’s as if an old dog took an old poo in an old barnyard right before he died. Once you smell this type bacteria, you’ll never forget. My roommate just described the process the bacteria goes through to generate such a smell, but I can’t even stomach the thought… Floss. Baz Luhrmann included this advice in the Sunscreen monologue, so obviously we must heed his words!

9. Extensive Dropping: Names, Status, Titles, etc: About a month ago, I was in a car accident and the Medford police officer was so inappropriate and condescending that I nearly lost my cool. At 8:45am in a gym parking lot, there is never a need to gross rudeness. Oddly enough, later that day I was interacting with a few men and one of them said, “Hey, I’m a cop.” Who the f*ck cares!? You’re still going to get the same treatment, service, conversation and ultimately rejection that you would have received if you were the owner of a pet store! Hey, I’m a cop?! Are you kidding me? Or the people who say, “Hey, get _______, I know him. He’ll take care of this.” (which usually means that they want something for free). You know what’s hilarious? I typically know the person who you think is gonna vouch for you and cater to your whim. I’ll bet they wouldn’t appreciate you abusing their name. Or when someone throws around, “Hey, I’m in the industry,” or “Hey, I’m a sommelier” or “Actually, I own restaurants” or even better “Actually, I used to have your job”… If you want something for free, maybe act civilized and someone will take pity on you or simply stay home and eat popcorn. That’s free. I don’t care if you’re a cop. I don’t care if you know Mr. Del (there isn’t one BTW), I don’t care what your status is in life whatsoever. Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? Can you participate in daily social situations without your insecurities blatantly waving in the wind? Make it a practice, please.

10. Your money: For those of you who aren’t aware, I have a job. I work hard, I play hard, I pay hard.  I like it hard. In certain circles of friends, I noticed the “no, I got the bill” conversation never happens. Iphone calculators happen. This is a grevious mistake; a $50 check and lower must be covered by one person. Hell, make the non-paying party member leave the tip. But to whip out deux credit cards for anything less that $50 is just cheap. Aren’t you both going next door anyway? Can she pay for this drink and you buy the next one? It would minimize the junk receipts in your purses y’know. Or when you offer to buy me a drink and I say (all together now) A slightly dirty Double Cross martini extra cold with three olives. And you say, “really?” in reference to that fact that I didn’t order a $3 Bud Lite. Yes, really. Don’t offer to buy me a cocktail if you can’t handle the order, I’ll get the damn thing myself. I came alone, didn’t I? I don’t know how to manage my money – it’s one of my flaws – but I certainly know that if I’m going out, it’s not for some crappy Bud Lite. I worked hard all day, I need a martini to the face. Beer is for the afternoon.

So, this is just a little laundry list that I compiled over the month after noticing -isums about people around me. The Silverware Warrior is truly my worst annoyance. My nanny can’t be ignored…