What’s for supper? Vol. 391: Durian mochi and other unforced errors

Happy Friday! 

Please read the following important update from our admin team: 

What does this mean for you? 

It means I haven’t figured out how to block bots but also allow real people to comment. I have figured out how to do one or the other, but not both, even though I am paying some rather brusque people what seems to me a lot of money to make this happen. So I’m sorry if you’ve been trying to leave comments! I will continue to chip away at it, because I really miss hearing from you.

Another wrinkle is that my computer mysteriously stopped working, so I spent most of the morning trying to persuade a backup computer to believe it really is me asking for a reminder for my passwords, because of course I don’t remember any of my passwords. And I have a migraine because these injections are not working like they’re supposed to, and the printer won’t function and the kids are trying to print out character sheets because their friends are coming over to do a planning session, we’e snowed in, I’ve got a cold, and thirty ladies from my Hadassah club are coming for lunch. 

Just kidding, I don’t belong to any clubs. Everything is fine. I can see grapes ripening from my window, and Damien is taking the little kids to see The Muppet Movie in the theater while I got to adoration, and we do have a backup computer, and it’s probably just my battery anyway. It’s a pretty sweet life. Only dumb things are falling apart right now, and nothing really important. Right? Crying a lot these days, but I always stop eventually, so it must be okay. 

And as you can see from the photo at the top of the page, I found a wonderful new addition for our family altar while I was checking out a new consignment store with Lucy yesterday. It just needed one small adjustment before it was perfect. As a bonus, we now have a wooden “L” floating around the house, which the kids are happily taking turns awarding to each other.

Here’s what we ate this week!

SATURDAY
Pork ribs, chips, watermelon

Saturday it turned out Leah LIbresco Sargeant was in New Hampshire, so boy did I drive over there and meet her! We’ve been friends for many years, but never met in person, and she brought her BABY. 

What a lovely visit. I love Leah and I love her baby. And her baby LIKED ME. He smiled at me, and talked to me, and had a nice nap on me. Wonderful. 

I stopped at an Asian market on the way home, to see what I could see. I’m always torn: Do I bring home something that’s guaranteed to be delicious, because it’s like something we’ve eaten before, in which case what is the point? or should I be adventurous, in which case everybody will hate it? I tried to split the difference, and picked out some Hello Kitty ramen, two kinds of mochi, and some spicy Chinese sausage. 

So accessible! Halfway normal! The kids haven’t tried the ramen yet, but they did approve of my purchase. And they tried the ube mochi. They said it tasted like dirt. Then I alone tried the durian mochi, and ,,,,  my friends ,,,,,

I don’t know what the human race has done to deserve durian, but on behalf of all mankind, I’m very, very sorry. Heavens above, I think that may be the very worst taste I have ever had in my mouth, on purpose or otherwise. I truly do not understand how durian is a thing. I thought people were exaggerating, but they were not! It is so aggressively foul! It’s like if you wore the same rubber boots all summer and then the boots caught fire and someone was like, hey, I bet I can turn that burnt rubber and burnt foot skin smell into blobs of chewy candy.

Like, WHY. 

I haven’t tried the sausage yet. 

I still had to make supper, though, so I just broiled some pork ribs under the broiler with lots of salt and pepper, and served them with sweet hot chili sauce and watermelon. 

A weird supper, but weirdly tasty, and took like 20 minutes to make. I also served but only modestly partook in a large basin of “chip salad.”

This is when you take the, I am not exaggerating, ELEVEN open bags of chips and other crunchy snacks, and toss them in a bowl and invite your family to eat the consequences of their actions. Which they happily did, and learned nothing. 

Corrie tried to convince me that what I had made was Chex Mix, and only in vain did I point out that . . . oh never mind. 

SUNDAY
Taquitos, chimichangas

Sunday we were supposed to go play in a waterfall, but it was thundering, so we stayed home and I don’t remember what we did. Lurked about, and then had a meal purchased entirely at Walmart.

You might be surprised to learn that this elegantly plated plate is nothing more that a simple chicken taquito and a humble beef and bean chimichanga. It’s amazing what a little innovative food design can do. 

You better believe I had more than two. Horribly delicious.

As the perfect accompaniment to this meal, we watched UHF, which is streaming on YouTube.  

MONDAY
Buffalo chicken wraps, raw veggies and dip

Monday I think I finally went shopping, which I hadn’t done yet, and we had buffalo chicken wraps, which actually had some other kind of frozen chicken, but served with buffalo sauce. I also put out blue cheese dressing, cherry tomatoes, and pepper jack cheese, and possibly some spinach.

I see something green on there, but I forget what it is. Oh, I think shredded lettuce. Also made a big veggie platter, as you can see. 

Gosh, I love wraps. Learning how to wrap them tightly has made a big difference.

Sorry, this is probably a gross picture because it has a bite out of it, but I’m forging ahead. 

I also accidentally bought a cotton candy machine at Aldi for $15, and the kids immediately got to work making the worst cotton candy any of us could ever imagine. 

This particular batch looks like cotton candy jerky. 

Corrie kept at it, and eventually managed to come up with something that actually looked somewhat fluffy and appetizing. So glad I figured out a new way for her to sprinkle sugar around the kitchen! But seriously, I think it was worth $15, and I see some possibilities for cake decorating in the future. Clouds and flames and foam for waves, or whatnot. I haven’t made a good whatnot-themed cake in a while. 

I had a surplus of cucumbers in the house, and the kids were hanging around, wishing they were pickles, instead (the cucumbers), and then one of them asked if they could MAKE pickles. Absolutely! It’s something I’ve been meaning to do forever, so I was thrilled they came up with the idea themselves. 

Having kids is weird. I, at least, am always trying to find the right balance between doing things simply because I want to do them, and doing things I don’t especially enjoy, as a good example for the kids. Which they won’t ever follow unless it actually appears to be appealing, which it won’t be, unless it’s something I actually want to do. Anyway, whether through my example or not, they spontaneously made the leap from wanting pickles to making pickles. Yeah, I’m gonna take credit for that. 

They followed this Bobby Flay recipe , except they made spears instead of chunks. They refrigerated them overnight and realized that, if they put them in jars, they could make LABELS. 

So this is what they made:

and

These kids will go places. Remains to be seen where.

TUESDAY
Hamburgers, chips, veggies and dip

Tuesday I finally decided I was tired of thinking about it, and picked about a hundred peaches. They’re not ripe yet, but they don’t have any green on them, and I live in fear that the tree is going to split if I wait too long. Here is one branch I didn’t get to when I was culling a while back:

There is such a thing as too much fecundity, she said, as her fiftieth birthday drew near, with no sign of, well, anyway. 

I put the peaches in paper bags and scrunched them up so the . . . ripening gas won’t escape, or whatever. I’ve been checking them every day, and I think they are getting riper? I’m going to make peach cobbler and ice cream, to start, and blanch and freeze what we can’t use right away. 

I made burgers mainly so we’d have something to eat pickles with. 

They turned out so good! Sharp taste, very snappy texture. A complete success. I was very impressed. 

Also, the recipe called for three garlic cloves, but the kids don’t know the difference between cloves and heads (they do now); which means they left tons and tons of leftover garlic cloves in the fridge, freshly peeled and neatly bagged. Score!

WEDNESDAY
Pork Spiedies, fries

A real recipe!

Jump to Recipe

Corrie and I made the marinade in the morning, and I cut up the pork and onions and she cut up the peppers. This is a nice marinade with a bright taste, and the fresh mint adds a little interest. That reminds me, I gotta pick a bunch of mint and freeze it for the winter! 

When it was almost supper, I cooked a bunch of spicy french fries, then moved them to one pan and broiled the pork,

and I cooked the peppers in a pan on the stovetop with some salt and pepper. 

We were out of mayonnaise, which is what we usually put on toasted rolls for spiedies; but Sophia found some horseradish sauce, and that was perfect.

It looks like a divinely-elected sandwich, and is, in fact, a very tasty meal. Moe came by to watch a movie with the kids, so that was fun. 

Poor Damien has been traveling a lot this week, covering hearings and whatnot, but I bullied him into looking at the lawn mower in the rain, and he shamed it into working for a bit, so I mowed until the lawn mower rebelled again. But having some of the yard look less abandoned again was a relief. And I did a bunch of weeding and moving stuff around, and counted my pumpkins, and I turned a giant sloppy brush pile into a tidy stack of useful sticks, which is always satisfying. 

THURSDAY
Pizza

Thursday Lucy had a dentist appointment and then we had to check out this consignment store, then Elijah needed a ride to work, and we did back-to-school-shopping, then we got ice cream and dropped Sophia off at work. This photo is notable because all the kids are either smiling or at least making normal faces, which means we were having a VERY NICE DAY INDEED. 

They are nice kids and I like them. 

Pizza for supper. I discovered a pack of forgotten Italian sausages, so I made one HEARTY pizza with sausage, pepperoni, and leftover peppers and onions from the spiedies

and one plain, and one half plain and half rather pretty, with feta (left over from last week’s salad), cherry tomatoes (left over from buffalo chicken wraps), fresh garlic (left over from dill pickles), and basil (from the garden). 

I had promised the kids two plain cheese pizzas, but they had to struggle along with 1.5. We have a ridiculously delicate pizza topping equilibrium hashed out, and usually I can get away with one divergent pizza (with anchovies or something) out of three; but I deviated from the norm 1.5 times this week, and this caused some disgruntlement! So I reminded them that we had just eaten REGULAR ice cream cones, rather than our usual JUNIOR size, and they saw reason. But I had to let them watch Frasier for a while. 

I did finish both mowing and weed whacking the yard, much to my satisfaction. And I tore out the last of the sugar snap peas and prepped the bed for carrot seeds, but I lost the packet! My plan was to start the carrots now and let them stay in the ground over the winter, and then dig them up in early spring before they flower. But I guess the new plan is to complain about how I lost the seeds. Complaining is always in season. 

FRIDAY
Poke bowls

Gonna make some rice and cut up some ahi tuna (which is crazy cheap at Aldi), and I have . . . I don’t know what, bean sprouts, sugar snap peas, crunchy noodles, mango chutney, and salt and pepper cashews. Peaches! Grass clippings. Invisible carrot seeds. An old computer battery. And this lamp, and that’s all I need. 

And that’s it! That was summer vacation. Well, one weekend left, but our big plan is to sort through water bottles, of which we have 936, and go to confession (unrelated). Some kids start school Monday, some Tuesday, and some Wednesday. We’re going to take another stab at visiting Trap Falls on Sunday, because the sun is supposed to pop in for a bit. I’m not thrilled about having to get up early again, but the trade-off is that it’s almost soup season, apple season, and bread season. And complaining season. I can’t wait.

I just told the kids I was heading out, and one said, “Oh, to adoration” and another one said “adoration, yaas queen” so . . . who knows. They’re good kids. And they do make good pickles. 

5 from 1 vote
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pork spiedies (can use marinade for shish kebob)

Ingredients

  • 1 cup veg or olive oil
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 1/2 cup red or white wine vinegar
  • 4 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 2 Tbsp sugar
  • 1 cup fresh mint, chopped
  • 8-10 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 4-5 lbs boneless pork, cubed
  • peppers, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, cut into chunks

Instructions

  1. Mix together all marinade ingredients. 

    Mix up with cubed pork, cover, and marinate for several hours or overnight. 

    Best cooked over hot coals on the grill on skewers with vegetables. Can also spread in a shallow pan with veg and broil under a hot broiler.

    Serve in sandwiches or with rice. 

You, on a gondola

This is me, slowly unpacking from our recent trip to a little island off the coast of Maine.

This is me, sheepishly putting away the seven (seven!) books I hoped to read on the beach, and then barely touched all week.

This is me, dolefully discovering that the “all ages” board game I ordered specially for the trip is still in its shrink wrap, after we spent zero evenings moving little plastic pieces around the table in raucous and wholesome family togetherness.

This is me closing the tabs with recipes for seafood dinners that I convinced myself we would not only cook, but also possibly harvest ourselves from the sea; and this is also me, cleaning all the cheeseburger wrappers out of the car.

The kites I packed didn’t even make it out of the trunk.

This is not me complaining about having been on vacation! It was lovely, and we’re lucky we were able to make it happen. We did swim and wade, clamber around on rocks, and eat ice cream. We came home tired and more or less happy, with pink shoulders and sand in our shoes.

And yes, I came home a little bit disappointed. I can’t help it: I have insanely high hopes every time I plan anything at all. I am who I am, and I know this; but I’m also perpetually disappointed when I don’t turn into someone else.

Right before we left, I saw an old video from Saturday Night Live, where Adam Sandler plays Joe Romano of Romano Tours.

He tells the audience, “Here at Romano Tours, we always remind our customers: If you’re sad now, you might still feel sad there, okay?”

He warns us:

“We can take you on a hike. We cannot turn you into someone who likes hiking. We can take you to the Italian Riviera. We cannot make you feel comfortable in a bathing suit. We can provide the zip line. We cannot give you the ability to say, ‘Whee’ and mean it.”

I laughed at the video, and then I went right ahead and told myself that, when we got to the island, everything would be different. Through the sheer magic of dipping ourselves in salt water, we’d become joyful, energetic, screen-free types who love spending all our time together. And that did not happen. We had the week we had, because we are the people we are. And it was good! But it was not magically, instantaneously transformative. Of course, it wasn’t.

Like Joe Romano says, “[I]f you don’t like how you look back home, it’s not gonna get any better on a gondola.”

This is not only true for going on vacation: It’s true for everything.

Are you getting ready for a new year of school? Even if you’re enrolling somewhere different or trying a whole fresh program, you’re still going to be who you are as a parent, and your kids are still going to be who they are as kids.

Are you starting a new job? Even if it’s an entirely different situation, you’re still going to be you, doing that job.

Are you perhaps new to the Catholic faith? Welcome, and we’re so glad you’re here! Your life has a very good chance of being transformed, one way or another.

But not magically. Not instantaneously. And not without you deliberately, consciously deciding to make that happen, taking advantage of what the Church has to offer, and putting it into practice day by day, minute by minute.

And also, paradoxically, not without you letting go of control and letting grace work with who you are.

I watched the SNL skit again, and I laughed even harder. It’s not only brilliant and insightful, it’s hopeful, not discouraging…Read the rest of my latest for Our Sunday Visitor.

 

What’s for supper? Vol. 390: In which it is still summer

Happy Friday! In haste, in haste, for I have spent the week dashing around trying to get all the summer things done while there’s still time, and have therefore put off doing my actual job, and now it is Friday and, while the wolf is not at the door yet, but it’s only a matter of time before he figures out GPS steered him wrong and we’re just a little ways down the street. 

However, the hummingbirds are humming, the peaches are swelling, and it’s still summer, dammit. Sonny’s battle wounds from his little fracas last week are healing up just fine and haven’t slowed him down one tiny bit. My pictures are pretty terrible this week, not really sure why; but we had a couple pretty good meals, plus HOMEMADE ICE CREAM SANDWICHES.

And peaches. You simply cannot fathom the number of peaches. 

SATURDAY
Chicken burgers, chips, watermelon

Just a regliar shopping day with a quick, easy meal. After supper, I WD40’d my clippers and attacked the chokecherry tree that’s been suffocating my blueberry bushes for many years, and I hope next year we’ll get more blueberries. 

We did try making chokecherry syrup one year, and let me tell you, it tasted exactly like something called “chokecherry syrup.” Bleh. So the blueberries get the nod. 

I offered to take the kids to the pond after dinner, and ONLY ONE PERSON WANTED TO GO. We used to spend alll summer at the pond, and the most devastating thing I could say was that it was time to leave. Ah well. Anyway, Benny and I went, and it was a little too nippy to swim, but we heard some loons and saw a gorgeous sunset. 

A wonderful, blessed spot. 

SUNDAY
Chinese food and McDonald’s

Sunday after Mass, we drove to Alewife and then took the T further into the city and got to Chinatown for the Harvest Moon Festival. A successful trip! We saw some lion dancers and other impressive performances on the street, and everyone got a snack from a bakery.

 

If I lived near a Chinese bakery, I would be 400 lbs and rising. I chose some kind of matcha cake with red bean filling. I would fight through miles of cake to get to red bean filling. 

Then, as is traditional, I got bullied by a Chinese lady while buying tea on the street, and the kids all picked out some authentic tourist tchotchkes, and we got some smoothies with boba pearls, and heard lots of exciting drumming and singing. Good stuff. 

We walked through The Boston Common, and Corrie got sopping wet in the fountain, and then we went in search of the Make Way for Ducklings Statues, but instead found “The Embrace.”

Now, this statue got a lot of derision when it was unveiled, and was fairly universally mocked and derided. You may have heard that this piece is an abject conceptual failure, and that there is no angle at which it looks anything other than obscene and grotesque. But now that we’ve been there, and walked all around it and touched it and experienced it first-hand, listen to me when I tell you: it’s so much worse in person.

It this a wienie statue? Is an homage to the idea of a giant bronze turd? It is an incredible work that truly invites the viewer to decide! Anyway, sorry about that, MLK. 

Then we got back on the T, and Corrie dried off a bit in front of one of those enormous subway fans, and then we drove homeward, stopping for burgers and then stopping again for ice cream, because, believe it or not, the soft serve machine in the first McDonald’s was out of order. And then we got home and collapsed like bunches of broccoli, respectively. 

MONDAY
Oven fried chicken, corn on the cob, lemony string beans

Monday I had promised I would go to Millie’s house and help her deal with her oriental bittersweet, which was taking over her mock orange tree. If you’re not familiar with oriental bittersweet, it’s a truly dreadful invasive vine that grows at a breakneck pace, climbs and twines around everything it touches and strangles it to death, and tunnels underground in several directions at once, so you can pull it up everywhere it sprouts and it still has secret infiltrations in a dozen other spots.

You have to attack it several times a year with clippers and glyphosate for several years to get on top of it, and then you find out your neighbor thought the flowers were pretty (which they are!) and was letting it grow, so you’re right back where you started. BOOOO. 

So I got to Millie’s house with my clippers and herbicide feeling a little grim, and guess what? She doesn’t have bittersweet! She has a mock orange tree that has gone crazy with all the rain, and it was sending up tons of shoots that looked suspicious. So that was a happy ending. I weeded her garden and did some odds and ends, and then decided that as long as I had all my killing crap out, I might as well go home and tackle my own bittersweet. So I did that for about three hours, and I got . . . some of it. HORRIBLE STUFF. 

But I was so glad that I had started prepping the chicken early in the day, because I was HONGRY by late afternoon. Here’s the recipe for oven fried chicken, which is several orders of magnitude easier than pan fried chicken, and I think it’s just as crispy and tasty. 

Jump to Recipe

I had drumsticks and wings, which were on sale. While that was cooking, I boiled some corn on the cob and then quickly sautéed some string beans in butter and then squeezed a few lemons over them.

Not a great picture, but a terrific summer meal. 

OH, was I hungry. 

TUESDAY
Carnitas, guacamole and chips, fresh corn salad (?)

Tuesday morning, I started some pork cooking for carnitas.

Jump to Recipe

and then started on the guacamole. Some interfamilial fights broke out at this point, but luckily I couldn’t find my garlic press, so I needed someone to smash some garlic for me. Inviting the most upset person to walk away from sister and come smash some garlic is one of my best parenting tips; no charge. 

And if the person in question believes a Rainbow Dash figurine to be the best possible tool for the job, then yes it is. 

I forgot to buy tomatoes for the guac, but didn’t really miss them, so I may skip them going forward. 

We had tons of corn leftover, so I cut it off the cobs and then just started adding likely-looking stuff to the bowl: kidney beans, black beans, canned tomatoes, diced chili peppers, lime juice, cayenne pepper, salt, cumin, and cilantro, if I remember right. 

I knew perfectly well that nobody but me was going to eat it, and I was fine with that. I did have it for lunch a few times during the week. I love this kind of dish. 

The carnitas turned out great. I seared the meat before putting it in the pot with the soda and oranges and whatnot, and I don’t know if that’s what made the difference or what, but it was so tasty. 

Awkward photo, great little meal. 

Corrie’s little pal came over and they ran around wrecking up the place for awhile, which is their charism. What a gift it is to see your kid playing with a good friend who’s just right. 

We also tried out the little ice cream sandwich making device I got at Aldi for like $6. Benny made chocolate chip cookies and I had made some plain vanilla ice cream the night before, and spread it in a cake pan, rather than putting it in a tub to freeze. 

It’s a very simple device: Just basically a cookie cutter with a handle and a plunger. You press it into the ice cream and then push the plunger and pop out a puck of ice cream

After they made the ice cream sandwiches, they rolled the outside of the filling in mini chocolate chips. 

Success! 

I did a ton more yard work on Tuesday. The poor, overburdened peach tree is drooping very badly, and the peaches are very close to being ripe, so I decided to wait a few more days before picking them, and instead propped a bunch of wooden beams and ladders and whatnot under the branches.

I also pruned the rose bush (yes, I know it’s the wrong time of year, but this rose bush is like 60 years old and I think it can deal with it) and weeded out a ton of goldenrod and jewelweed and other intruders, and it looks so much better in front of the house now. To me, anyway. I tend to leave the piles of whatever I’ve clipped or weeded lying around for a day or so, just to impress Damien. He doesn’t necessarily notice when something outdoors looks much better, but the upside to this is that he also doesn’t notice when it looks horrible and overgrown! I used to wish we could switch brains temporarily so we could see how each other sees the world, but at this point, I think I would rather just leave it alone. I tell him when I did a good job on something, and point to the giant heap of refuse I created, and he praises and compliments me, and we’re both happy. There’s another fee tip for you. 

WEDNESDAY
Sausage and pepper subs

Wednesday Benny had a couple friends over, so Damien handled dinner at home and I took the girls to the pond with some sandwiches and popcorn, fruit and cookies. 

Then we got home and roasted marshmallows over the propane fire.

Summer things! Doing all the summer things! 

THURSDAY
Lemon garlic shrimp pasta

Thursday,  also went back to Millie’s house after Mass to help her with a dead mouse that turned out to be alive, and let me tell you, Millie and I ran around and screamed like cartoon characters, but eventually I had to acknowledge that I was the one in charge of this situation, and, well, if your stream is downstream from our stream and you see a mouse with its head stuck in a trap float by, just mind your business. 

On Thursday another kid moved out. We now have only six kids at home, which means I only made two pounds of pasta for dinner.

I truly don’t know if this is an appropriate amount, because (a) I never, ever, ever learned how to judge how much pasta to make for any amount of people, and (b) I was making pasta with shrimp, and most of my kids hate shrimp. 

I was a little nervous myself, since the last time I had shrimp, I was violently sick for a week. I don’t even remember why I decided to make it — shrimp was on sale, I guess — but it’s a good, easy recipe, and it turned out fine. And I found out that I am able to eat shrimp without fear and revulsion, but also the sparkle has gone out of it. I only had one little bowl of it and then I was ready to go somewhere else.

I realize this is normal behavior for other people, but shrimp used to be one of my absolute favorite treat foods, and the thing I ordered most often when we go to a restaurant. But now it’s just . . . fine. Ah well. Himmel und Erde müssen vergeh’n.

Aber das Eiscreme, aber das Eiscreme, aber des Eiscreme bleiben besteh’n! Oh yes, I made ice cream, and the kids made more cookies, so we have that going for us. This is now the third time I’ve churned ice cream inside a cooler with an ice pack, and I can definitively say the extra cold makes a difference! Comes out good and thick.

I spread it in a cake pan again, but it was still a little soft by evening, so we let it continue to freeze.

FRIDAY
Aldi pizza

Today after adoration we are going to see Clara in The Importance of Being Earnest, and . . . that appears to be all I wrote on the menu for today. So I guess I am picking up some Aldi pizza!And now they are making more ice cream sandwiches. 

And there is still a little summer left. We’re going to Trap Falls this Sunday, most likely, and my eggplant is finally growing. I think my sugar snap peas are done for the year, so I’m probably gonna pull them out and throw some spinach seeds in that spot and get a second crop, which I’m not usually organized enough to do. I have maybe half a dozen lovely giant pumpkins growing, and also various squash ad gourds, and I found some Joe Pye Weed in the yard for the first time, which I’m unreasonably excited about.

And uh I found this at the thrift store:

We’re about to be hip deep in sweet little peaches in about 72 hours, as you can see here, and the throngs have demanded peach cobbler. That can be arranged. 

Maybe also a peach burrata salad with prosciutto and balsamic glaze. Maybe grilled peaches with coconut ice cream and praline topping. Maybe peach marmalade. MAYBE JUST PEACHES. 

5 from 1 vote
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Oven-fried chicken

so much easier than pan frying, and you still get that crisp skin and juicy meat

Ingredients

  • chicken parts (wings, drumsticks, thighs)
  • milk (enough to cover the chicken at least halfway up)
  • eggs (two eggs per cup of milk)
  • flour
  • your choice of seasonings (I usually use salt, pepper, garlic powder, cumin, paprika, and chili powder)
  • oil and butter for cooking

Instructions

  1. At least three hours before you start to cook, make an egg and milk mixture and salt it heavily, using two eggs per cup of milk, so there's enough to soak the chicken at least halfway up. Beat the eggs, add the milk, stir in salt, and let the chicken soak in this. This helps to make the chicken moist and tender.

  2. About 40 minutes before dinner, turn the oven to 425, and put a pan with sides into the oven. I use a 15"x21" sheet pan and I put about a cup of oil and one or two sticks of butter. Let the pan and the butter and oil heat up.

  3. While it is heating up, put a lot of flour in a bowl and add all your seasonings. Use more than you think is reasonable! Take the chicken parts out of the milk mixture and roll them around in the flour until they are coated on all sides.

  4. Lay the floured chicken in the hot pan, skin side down. Let it cook for 25 minutes.

  5. Flip the chicken over and cook for another 20 minutes.

  6. Check for doneness and serve immediately. It's also great cold.

 

5 from 1 vote
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Carnitas (very slightly altered from John Herreid's recipe)

Ingredients

  • large hunk pork (butt or shoulder, but can get away with loin)
  • 2 oranges, quartered
  • 2-3 cinnamon sticks
  • 4-5 bay leaves
  • salt, pepper, oregano
  • 1 cup oil
  • 1 can Coke

Instructions

  1. Cut the pork into chunks and season them heavily with salt, pepper, and oregano.

  2. Put them in a heavy pot with the cup of oil, the Coke, the quartered orange, cinnamon sticks, and bay leaves

  3. Simmer, uncovered, for at least two hours

  4. Remove the orange peels, cinnamon sticks, and bay leaves

  5. Turn up the heat and continue cooking the meat until it darkens and becomes very tender and crisp on the outside

  6. Remove the meat and shred it. Serve on tortillas.

What’s for supper? Vol. 389: In which things are not the worst

Happy Friday! Despite some dog drama, this week has gone so much better than last week; hope you are same.

We have a shiny new well pump, and it was even sightly less money than they warned us it would be, and the guys were all very cheerful and understanding about . . . everything. The basement being damp and disgusting, the yard being so overgrown, the ducks being terrible, the dog being their new velcro accessory. As I apologized one last time, I said, “Just tell me this isn’t the worst house you’ve been to” and the guy said, “Ohhhhhh, no.” And that was the greatest gift of all.

There was some contamination, so they had to dump a bunch of chlorine in there, so we were on store-bought water until a few days ago. We’re so spoiled: Our normal tap water is so good, so icy cold and sparkling pure, and it’s great to have it back again. For some reason, getting a bill for thousands of dollars for a well pump hurt so much less than an equally large bill for a car repair. Giant car repairs always fill me with so much dread and shame, whereas the well thing was so obviously just a “shit happens when you own a house” situation. Anyway, we have water. Water! Cheers!

Here’s what we ate this week: 

SATURDAY
Chicken fries, veg and hummus

Just a regular Saturday. We were hoping to go to the county fair, but there were thunderstorms all weekend, and then I thought maybe we could go to Canobie Lake Park instead, but there was bad weather predicted for Salem, as well. I was irrationally despondent over this, and then Damien suggested this year we could try The Big E, which is an All New England state fair, and it’s not until September. There are hardly ever thunderstorms in September! We went there once was our oldest was a baby, and all I remember was the slide where you sit on a burlap sack, and a giant butter sculpture. That’s good enough for me. 

Anyway, we had chicken fingers for dinner, which I’ve never had before. 

They’re kind of embarrassing somehow, like a plastic lobster bib, or having your food blended up in a cup so you don’t have to chew. But they were tasty.

And I managed to avoid serving chips, which is a full-time job some weeks. 

Speaking of which, note the very tired dog in the background. He, too, has a full time job, but we haven’t figured out what it is, yet. But it’s exhausting. He’s so tired! And his week was about to get more exciting. 

SUNDAY
Steak and cheese subs, chips; homemade ice cream

Not really steak, but beef, anyway. I think it was a chuck roast or something, and I sharpened up my knife and cut it as thinly as I could (it was partially frozen, which helped), and then put tons of salt, pepper, garlic powder, and Worcestershire sauce on it. 

First I pan fried up a ton of onions in oil, and then I pan fried up the beef. I toasted a bunch of rolls, and then I spread mine with a little mayo, piled on the beef and onions, and topped it with shards of cheddar cheese, and put it back in the oven for a few minutes.

Pretty frickin good. Pretty, pretty, fricken, fricken good. We were supposed to have fries with this meal, but I forgot to make them. Luckily, we still had chips left over from July 4th, which might cause you to believe that I bought too many chips for July 4th. But such thoughts are fruitless and should be abandoned. 

We did have ice cream! I haven’t made ice cream all summer, and part of the reason is that the last few times I made it, it never froze properly. It was still soupy when it came out of the ice cream machine, and then when I put it into the freezer, it froze solid like a liquid, rather than creamily, if you see what I mean. 

So I tried two things: I froze the bowls for two days, rather than just 24 hours; and I churned in inside a cooler with an ice pack. My kitchen really is pretty hot!

I made two batches, one strawberry and one almond coconut. They both use the basic sweet cream base (eggs, sugar, cream, and milk), and then I added macerated strawberries to one, and almond extract, toasted almonds, and shredded coconut to the other. 

Here is the strawberry ice cream recipe:

Jump to Recipe

which starts with the sweet cream base, and you can just skip the strawberry part and add in other stuff after churning it. (My original plan had been to make chocolate chip, but Somebody Ate The Chocolate Chips, if you can believe it. Even Though I Told Them!) 

The almond coconut one turned out great. It was the tiniest bit soft, but that’s because it needed a few more hours in the freezer. Would have been perfect otherwise. 

The strawberry one was a little uneven in texture, but that’s because . . . . sigh . . . . the fresh strawberries got frozen in the fridge, so I wasn’t able to mash them thoroughly. Our refrigerator has random extra-cold spots, and you never know what’s going to go on in there.

I do think using the cooler made a big difference overall, so I’ll be doing that going forward, even in the winter if there are other appliances warming the room up. One of the things on my wish list this summer is to make szechuan peppercorn ice cream, which absolutely nobody but me wants, and now I think I’ll be able to do it!

MONDAY
Vermonter sandwiches, french fries

High time for a fine sandwich. Sourdough bread or ciabatta, roast chicken or turkey, tart green apple slices, crisp bacon, and thickly-sliced sharp cheddar cheese, with honey mustard dressing. 

Oh, it’s a wonderful sandwich.

I bought a bottle of hot honey from Aldi and made some dressing with that. I was surprised at how spicy it was! It’s also a little bit thinner than regular honey, so the dressing turned out a little drippy. Nice flavor, though. 

We had steak fries to go with the sandwiches. Extremely popular meal. 

TUESDAY
Blueberry chicken salad; mango tart

I don’t usually like serving chicken twice in a row, but something forced my hand, I forget what. Oh, I was planning chili verde, but forgot to buy tomatillos!

So I seasoned the chicken breasts with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, and roasted them, and then served sliced chicken on mixed greens with crumbled feta cheese, blueberries, minced red onion, and toasted walnuts. 

I had red wine vinegar on mine for dressing. I also served crackers. I’ve really been getting into crackers lately. 

For some reason I felt like a salad wasn’t going to be a big enough meal (even with all the nuts and cheese and chicken), and I had four giant mangos rapidly heading toward overripeness, so I decided we needed a mango tart, as well. We don’t usually have dessert during the week, but it’s SUMMER. I can do what I want!

Here is the recipe I used, because I had all the ingredients in the house. I like the way the recipe is written. You can tell she’s actually made it, and she explains why she does certain things, and what will happen if you don’t, which is helpful for me, who tends to think everything is stupid and I can just do it my own way. 

So I made a crust out of animal crackers (I just filled up the food processor with cookies and made it into fine crumbs, then poured in about half a stick of melted butter and whirred that it, and then pressed the mixture into a pie plate. I didn’t think it needed sugar, and I was right)

The recipe called for room temperature egg yolks, and I remembered the trick of quickly warming up eggs by putting them in very warm water for a few minutes. 

A lot of baking recipes don’t truly need room temperature ingredients, but since this was going to be a custardy kind of thing, I figured it would be important. 

This recipe calls for unflavored gelatin, and that should have been my warning sign. There really are very few recipes that used unflavored gelatin where taste is the foremost concern! But I figured, FOUR RIPE MANGOES. This is a can’t-lose situation. So I poured the mixture into the baked crust and then baked the tart. So far, so good. Lovely color. 

Benny collected strawberries, blackberries, and pansy blossoms (which are edible). Then I refrigerated the tart for several hours, and decorated the top.

It held up great when I sliced it. And it tasted like SWEET LIBRARY PASTE. Really, if I hadn’t cut up the mangoes myself, I might not even realize it was a mango dessert. What a disappointment! I don’t think I made any mistakes; I think it’s just not a great recipe. I want to make another mango tart that really lets the mango shine, if anyone has suggestions. Probably something with cream, or condensed milk. Oh well. It was a very pretty pie. 

WEDNESDAY
Pizza

Wednesday we had a little adventure. I had gotten tons and tons of chores and errands out of the way, and suddenly realized we had a free afternoon, so it was a fine time to check out the new dog park! Sonny has ducks and a cat to play with at home, but he very rarely gets to meet other dogs, so we were pretty excited.

Even those of us who had nooooo idea what was going on. 

So we got there and it was great! A huge area, all fenced in, tons of shade, a digging spot, a few spigots and metal bowls so the dogs could drink, plenty of benches, and balls and toys and sticks scattered around.

Dog paradise. Sonny romped and galumphed and sniffed so many butts, and had a lovely time. After about forty minutes, we were thinking about heading home, and then one more dog showed up, and at first everyone got along, and then next thing you know,

[EVERYBODY IS OKAY, SONNY IS OKAY]

there was snarling and screaming and a giant pile of dogs, and woman is shrieking at me, “GET YOUR F*CKING DOG OUT OF HERE.” And I look and the new dog has clamped his jaws onto Sonny’s neck!! and a man is crouching over them trying to pry them apart!! All I can think of to do is pull on Sonny, but I know that will make it worse, so I just stood there with my eyes bugging out, and the woman keeps screaming at me, thinking the aggressive dog is mine, and it keeps snarling like a horrible machine, and Sonny keeps crying like a baby. It was TERRIBLE. The dude finally gets the bad dog off Sonny, and then the people start fighting, because in the melee, the bad dog has bitten the man, as well, and the owners are repeatedly claiming that their dog is “not aggressive.” 

Yes, it was a pit bull. What an amazing coincidence. Never heard of such a thing.

So someone calls the police, and the screaming woman apologizes for the misunderstanding and helps me take pictures of Sonny’s injuries (one big bite on his neck and one on his ear), and the bad dog’s owners agree to pay for any vet or human bills, and then that was a whole other ordeal because the officer and the bitten man had some kind of conflict, and the officer starts loudly explaining to me that dogs are OMINOUS. I get that this is some kind of legal term, but it did not have the effect he was hoping it would have, especially with the stupid reflective sunglasses. So I gave the kids my debit card and told them to go see if they could find an ice cream truck while we sorted it out. 

Sonny is . . . completely fine. His basic attitude was, “Whoa, I heard there was some kind of fight! Did you guys see anything? I didn’t see anything! Gosh!”

But of course we brought him to the vet, and he got some antibiotics and they said it would be better not to have stitches, so it can heal more cleanly. and he’s been getting dog ice cream and lots of leftover chicken, and leftover steak, and pepperoni, and endless snuggles and praise. He still has no idea what happened. He’s like, First . . . I went to the playground, and I played with my friends! And then something happened, and then I turned into the best dog in the world! Everybody says so! Ohh, I gotta get back to that playground.

He is actually on TWO antibiotics, a cream and two pills, because he’s too big for just one. Here he is, brave soldier, freshly home from the vet, clearly very chastened by his experience:

I had always heard that boxers had been bred to have all those loose skin folds so that, if they get attacked, the aggressor will just chomp through their skin and not damage their organs, and now I believe it. He doesn’t have cropped ears, but if he had, that probably would have saved him an ear bite, too. He’s so goofy looking, but it’s a good design. 

Anyway, when we got home from the park, I made some pizzas. Nothing fancy, just one pepperoni, one olive, and one plain. 

And then we watched the 1999 cinematic masterpiece The Mummy with Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weisz. Corrie’s first time. The “I . . . am a librarian” line got her good. 

THURSDAY
Chili verde and rice

Something I haven’t made for a while. I usually just get the bag of assorted hot peppers from the supermarket, rather than picking out individual peppers, and this works fine for me, because I have some kind of pepper blindness and never, ever come home with the peppers I tried to buy. So, might as well let Hannford pick them out for me. 

So you roast them, plus a few quartered onions, plus a bunch of tomatillos, under high heat, turning them once, so they are slightly blistered

then throw them in the food processor along with a head of garlic and a bunch of cilantro

Then you hack up some pork, heavily salt and pepper it, and brown it in oil in batches. 

and then you put it all together in the pot, adding some beer or broth if you like it thinner. Cover it and let it simmer for several hours. 

When it’s done, you can leave the meat in chunks

or you can mash it with a fork or potato masher until it’s shreddy

I had mine over white rice with cilantro, sour cream, and fresh lime juice on top. 

Scrumptious. Quite spicy, but perfect when I stirred in the sour cream. 

This meal is too spicy for most of the kids, and I think they just eat rice with limes. As you can see, I ate mine in bed, so I did not care. 

FRIDAY
Spaghetti

The kids have been asking for NORMAL SPAGHETTI with SAUCE FROM JARS, and they can have it! Damien and I haven’t been on a date in a very long time, so we are going to the movies (The Godfather on the big screen!) and then checking into a bed and breakfast with a gift card, and they can do what they want.

Oh, and the pit bull owner did pay the vet bill, and their dog was up to date on his shots. Apparently it was the first time at the dog park, too. Nothing like a vet bill and a call from animal control to get you a little more grounded about what kind of dog you have! Things could have gone so much worse. The good samaritan’s finger is okay, and I’m sending them a gift card, and Sonny is continuing to live his best life. Right after a nap. 

Oh, I forgot one last thing: The kids made frozen chocolate bananas. In case you’re looking for a quick little snack project. They melted chocolate chips in the microwave and stirred it a little vegetable oil, drizzled it over the peeled bananas, and sprinkled them with rainbow sprinkles and misc.,

and then put them in the freezer for a few hours.

Beautiful they were not, but the kids said they were good.

Okay, phew! That’s the week. Smell ya later. 

Ben and Jerry's Strawberry Ice Cream

Ingredients

For the strawberries

  • 1 pint fresh strawberries
  • 1-1/2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice

For the ice cream base

  • 2 eggs
  • 3/4 cup sugar
  • 2 cups heavy or whipping cream
  • 1 cup milk

Instructions

  1. Hull and slice the strawberries. Mix them with the sugar and lemon juice, cover, and refrigerate for an hour.

Make the ice cream base:

  1. In a mixing bowl, whisk the eggs for two minutes until fluffy.

  2. Add in the sugar gradually and whisk another minute.

  3. Pour in the milk and cream and continue whisking to blend.

Put it together:

  1. Mash the strawberries well, or puree them in a food processor. Stir into the ice cream base.

  2. Add to your ice cream maker and follow the directions. (I use a Cuisinart ICE-20P1 and churn it for 30 minutes, then transfer the ice cream to a container, cover it, and put it in the freezer.)

Spicy Chili Verde

You can decrease the heat by seeding the peppers, using fewer habañeros, or substituting some milder pepper. It does get less spicy as it cooks, so don't be alarmed if you make the salsa and it's overwhelming!

Ingredients

  • 5 lbs pork shoulder
  • salt and pepper
  • oil for cooking
  • 2 cups chicken broth or beer (optional)

For the salsa verde:

  • 4 Anaheim peppers
  • 2 habañero peppers
  • 4 jalapeño peppers
  • 4 medium onions
  • 12 tomatillos
  • 1 head garlic, cloves peeled
  • 1 bunch cilantro

For serving:

  • lime wedges
  • sour cream
  • additional cilantro for topping

Instructions

  1. Preheat the broiler.

  2. Pull the husks and stems off the tomatillos and rinse them. Cut the ends off all the peppers. Grease a large pan and put the tomatillos, peppers, and onions on it. Broil five minutes, turn, and broil five minutes more, until they are slightly charred.

  3. When they are cool enough to handle, you can at this point remove the seeds from the peppers to decrease the spiciness, if you want.

  4. Put the tomatillos, peppers, and onions in a food processor or blender with the garlic and cilantro. Purée.

  5. In a heavy pot, heat some oil. Salt and pepper the pork chunks and brown them in the oil. You will need to do it in batches so the pork has enough room and browns, rather than simmering.

  6. When all the meat is browned, return it all to the pot and add the puréed ingredients.

  7. Simmer at a low heat for at least three hours until the meat is tender. If you want thinner chili verde, stir in the chicken broth or beer. If you don't want the pork in large chunks, press the meat with the back of a spoon to make it collapse into shreds.

  8. Spoon the chili verde into bowls, squeeze some lime juice over the top, and top with sour cream and fresh cilantro.

Sometimes the secret ingredient is time

It’s one of my favorite stories, so I’m glad it’s apparently true. The Vienna Beef company makes a certain kind of hot dog that is bright red, and it has a particular smoky flavor and a particular snap when you bite into it. It was very popular, so they made it in exactly the same way year after year, decade after decade.

Eventually the company became successful enough to upgrade to a new facility, where everything was streamlined and efficient and top of the line. But they knew better than to mess with success: The hot dog recipe stayed the same.

Except it didn’t. The hot dogs produced in the new facility weren’t as good. The color was off, the texture was feeble, and the taste just wasn’t the same; and nobody could figure out why. They hadn’t changed anything—not the ingredients, not the process, not the order of operations. It was a hot dog mystery.

They finally solved it by painstakingly recreating how they had done it in the old factory—and it turned out that, at one point, the processed ground meat was slowly trucked from one part of the factory to another, through several rooms, around corridors, and on an elevator. It seems that this arduous process, which everyone assumed was nothing but an inconvenience that ought to be streamlined away, was an essential step. The meat got warmed slowly as it went, gradually steeping in the smoke and moisture of the rooms that it travelled through. When they made the production more efficient, they eliminated this part of the process. And that ruined the hot dogs.

The secret ingredient, it turned out, was time. I thought of this story as I sat chatting with an old friend, someone I’ve known online for over two decades, and we only met in person for the first time last week. When we first got to know each other, we were in the thick of having babies and wrangling toddlers, both fairly starry-eyed about the possibilities of how to build a Catholic marriage and raise a holy family.

Now we both have several adult children, and our “babies” are almost as tall as we are. We talked about what we expected our lives to look like, what we were so sure about, and how differently things have turned out. We talked about our struggles and also our successes, and how we seem to know less and less as time goes on.

And we talked about how sometimes, the secret ingredient is time…Read the rest of my latest for The Catholic Weekly

Photo by ArtHouse Studio

What’s for supper? Vol. 387 and 388: Water, water everywhere, and all the Fishers stink

Happy Friday! I didn’t get a WFS done last week because we were still on the road, and then, rather than unpacking, I spent the week personally unravelling. Something to do with kids moving out into their own apartments and me forgetting to refill my prescriptions, and 80% humidity and whatnot. 

And then the water stopped working. Damien tried replacing the well pump switch, and that didn’t work. The guys are still down in the basement as I begin to write, getting dripped on and battling hanging insulation out of their faces.

At one point they asked me where the actual well was, and I, who have lived here for fifteen years, suddenly did not know. There are two wells on the property. One is defunct, and they’re both completely overgrown by briars because we wanted to discourage the kids from playing on them and turning into a tragic headline. So I led the repair guys to the briar patch I thought was more likely, and this involved me tripping over a canoe and then also tripping over some shit-smeared duck eggs that were lying around on the ground because our ducks are even worse housekeepers than I am. 

Here they are, trying to eat a shoe. 

Anyway, we still have no water, but the good news is, I don’t know what the good news is. Tra la la, it’s just money. It comes, it goes. Even money you don’t have goes! At least we have some duck eggs. And a shoe. 

Anyway, we WERE on vacation on Peak’s Island off the coast of Portland, Maine, and it was VERY NICE.

I’ll just do a super quick run down of what we ate there, because it may interest you to know how a large family eats away from home without a big budget. The main thing to know is that we were staying on an island that is accessible only by ferry, and there is only one food market on the island, and that market charges . . . 

$12.39 for a little jar of mayonnaise!

I didn’t even want mayonnaise that much, but really! There was also no grill outside, because this grassy, breezy little island is understandably finicky about not having fires started on it. 

So I packed a lot of food! Sandwiches, pizzas, chicken drumsticks, a hunk of beef, ground beef, and hot dogs, fruit and frozen vegetables, ice pops, coffee and ice tea mix, and a bunch of cereal and crackers and snacks, milk, and two watermelons, and also two giant sacks of candy from the “je ne sais expiration dates pas” discount store. 

Next time, I will remember to bring Fisher-sized cooking pots and pans, and at least a few decent knives, and a pizza cutter. I did bring heavy duty paper plates, and ziplock bags and trash bags, and I packed all the food in laundry baskets, which were useful for other stuff during the week. 

SATURDAY:

We ate Market Basket pre-made subs while waiting for the ferry. And then we got on the ferry!

and got to the house and settled in.

I’m feeling super overwhelmed with photos, so this is lame, but I guess just please feel free to check out my Facebook page, where I posted all about our adventures all week. We climbed around on rocks, used a rope as a rappel line to get down to a little hidden beach, kayaked around the cove, went fishing, explored a dark and abandoned military fort, built cairns, found sea glass and pretty shells, visited the Umbrella Cover Museum, checked out a Civil War-era cemetery, and spent a day on the mainland and visited the Portland Museum of Art, and probably more that I’m forgetting!

Damien and I also decided at one point to take a “shortcut” around the perimeter of the island, rather than climbing up onto the road, and it turns out there’s a reason they built a road. Nice to know we still have the knack of goading each other into completely unnecessary stupid stunts. It was actually super fun and we giggled our heads off while almost plummeting to our deaths, and ended up emerging through the hedges into someone’s private garden party, oops.

And that was Peak’s Island!

So here’s what we ate: 

SUNDAY:

Aldi pizza (you can stuff four of those extra-large pizzas into one of those soft insulated Aldi coolers)

MONDAY: Oven-fried chicken, mashed potatoes, watermelon.
For reference, here is my usual recipe for oven fried chicken:

Jump to Recipe

But here is what I made, based on things that were in the beach house and things I could bear to buy at Marché de Priceless Mayo:
I made a thin batter of eggs, milk, cornstarch, salt, pepper, and cumin, and then rolled in crushed corn flakes and baked in a hot oven in melted margarine (cheap) and olive oil (at the house). Corrie helped with this meal:

and it turned out okay, not amazing, but fine. 

The mashed potatoes were instant from a box. I made lots and lots of chicken, and the kids had it for lunch, along with leftover pizza, for the next few days. 

TUESDAY: Beef “stir fry” and rice. I made a somewhat dubious marinade of soy sauce, white sugar, fresh lime juice, and pepper, and cut the beef into strips to marinate. Then I microwaved the frozen veg I brought, and kept them warm on top of the pot of rice while I cooked up the meat. 

Not ideal, but we were hungry and it was fine. 

WEDNESDAY: Restaurant food, yay! We took the Ferry into Portland and went to the Portland Museum of Art, then ate at some restaurant by the water, I forget what. I had a sandwich stuffed with fried clams that the kids insisted I buy because they had a funny name. 

Tittyleg Shorties or Bognipples or something like that. I don’t know why all clams have ridiculous names, but I’m not complaining.

 Anyway, it was delicious food and the staff was super friendly.

THURSDAY: Hamburgers, more chips, and the other watermelon. I have no regrets about bringing two watermelons in the car. 

FRIDAY:  we spent the morning cleaning the house and packing, hopped on the ferry at the last possible moment, gassed up and loaded up on snacks at a 7-11, and started the drive home. My AC broke at the beginning of the trip, so it was kind of a long drive with the windows down and no radio (because it was too loud), but the kids were good sports. 

We stopped and spent several hours at Hampton Beach, because I realized too late that most of the kids were really hoping for lots of sand and big waves on the same beach, which the island, for all its charms, simply doesn’t have. You either get huge, crashing waves on the windward side, which is rocky and dramatic and covered with wild roses and flailing mats of seaweed, or you have the leeward side, which is sandy when the tide goes out, but the water just laps mildly against you and it’s mostly pebbles. Also, it’s Maine, so your legs go numb in the water. Sorry, kids! Next time, we’ll go south instead of north. 

Anyway, we got our Relatively Big Beach time in,

and I actually fell asleep on the beach, which I’ve never done before.  Then everybody got giant slabs of fried dough, which tided us over until we got closer to home. Then I got lost, and my phone died, and the charger was in Damien’s car, and I had to rely on the kindness of strangers in Burger King, and then I realized I could just buy a new charger, and relied on the kindness of the gas station guy who helped me figure out which one to get. I thought I was having a fairly dramatic time getting home, but it turns out Damien had to stop several times and put more oil in his car, and then as soon as we got home, he had to fix a cracked oil something or other, so I guess he wins.

Anyway, it was lovely to be home, and the dog went absolutely apeshit. The cat, however, was furious, and has only just started talking to us again. 

And that brings us up to this week!

SATURDAY
Well-travelled hot dogs

Yeah, we cooked and ate the hot dogs I brought to Maine and back. They were the nice, expensive kind of hot dogs, and I kept them cold the whole time, so there.

I took Benny and Corrie out to a local street fair thing, which we thought we had missed this year, but we didn’t. Good thing we went, because it turns out Warner Bros legal department is not cool with you making a Harry Potter-themed street fair, even if you euphemistically call it “Wizarding Week.” So they got a cease and desist and I guess that’s the end of that! It was really just a vendorpalooza plus some light satanism anyway, and the sorting hat put Benny in Slytherin, so the heck with them. We got our chocolate frogs and our 3D printed dragons and the kids were happy. 

SUNDAY
Hamburgers again, grilled corn on the cob, chips

I did a little shopping, just to get us back in toilet paper and stuff, but I was sooo tired and confused and didn’t really know what day it was, so I only got a few day’s worth of food. I got pre-made hamburger patties and Damien cooked them on the grill, and he also grilled a bunch of corn on the cob, right in the husk. 

I did shuck it before I ate it. It really turns out nice that way, very juicy and sweet. 

MONDAY
Spaghetti carbonara, bread

People were feeling a little gloomy, so I cheered things up with duck egg carbonara

Here’s the carbonara recipe:

Jump to Recipe

If you look close, you can see that I didn’t stir it up fast enough, and the eggs went right ahead and scrambled themselves onto the pasta. Oh well! Still good!

TUESDAY
Terrible tacos

Just miserable tacos. I couldn’t find any of my seasonings, and I still hadn’t unpacked, and it was insanely humid, and things just went poorly all day. Oh well. 

WEDNESDAY
Chicken shawarma and stuffed grape leaves

On Wednesday, I bullied myself into imitating a functioning adult, and started some chicken thighs marinating in the morning, and then spent the rest of the day dashing around from one seemingly urgent task to another — buying paint, trying to install a new overhead light fixture, loading up on half-dead plants on clearance at Home Depot, ordering a paper marbling kit and and new bathroom exhaust fan, looking up how to make fresh mozzarella —  until Damien asked if I was okay. I stopped to think, and it turns out, not really! It turns out the drugs I take to keep myself on an even keel were actually working, and when I skip several weeks, things become less even! Why didn’t someone say something? 

Anyway, the shawarma was very tasty,

Here that recipe:

Jump to Recipe

and I made some yogurt sauce

Jump to Recipe

and cut up a bunch of tomatoes and cucumbers, and gathered feta cheese, store-bought pita and various olives. 

Then I sent the kids out to pick some grape leaves, because I got it into my head that we needed stuffed grape leaves. This inspiration didn’t propel me far enough to find the actual recipe I use, though, and I just chucked a bunch of stuff in rice (tons of fresh mint, salt and pepper, chicken broth, olive oil, and some green za’atar) and I also didn’t blanch the grape leaves. 

Corrie said she knew how to roll grape leaves, and that was good enough for me.  

Then I just shoveled them into the Instant Pot with some water, and squeezed a few lemons into it, and set it to cook for ten minutes. 

Does it turn out good this way? NOT REALLY. I mean they were good in their way, but this is not really a recipe, and I can’t really recommend it. 

HOWEVER, it was a great meal together, and I felt a little more like myself, having cooked something. 

Then, right before bed, the water went out. 

You said it, Hayao. 

THURSDAY
One-pan kielbasa, potato, and broccoli 

That was the plan, anyway, but I called the well people and they tramped all over the property and informed me that the thing that I have always thought was the well is actually the sewer, and they couldn’t find the well, even with  . . . some kind of device which I’m sure isn’t a dowsing rod, but which is designed to find your well.

Anyway, it didn’t work, and it wasn’t until about 45 minutes after they left that I got mad enough to find it myself. So that cost $300, and then I called them back to say I found it, and they said they’d be back tomorrow to do the rest, which is going to be about $3,000, or maybe $5,000, who can say. I called my homeowner’s insurance agent, and apparently we don’t have an entropy rider, so that’s-a no good. 

At least we have duck eggs. Which I would wash, if I had some water. But it could be worse! The well is apparently from 1982, and sometimes well heads from that era were buried, for some reason. So at least we haven’t had to use our fake money that we don’t have to hire an excavator to find the well! Yay!

Damien used the sump pump to fill the bathtub full of stream water, and showed the kids how to dip up a bucket of it and dump it into the toilet to make it flush. Then, and it is not clear how, exactly, but somehow, in a very police-involved shooting kind of voice, the toilet got broken. Only on the top part, though, so it’s not like we’re having a bad time here. 

Oh, anyway we decided to have Aldi pizza, because you can eat them directly off cardboard. 

FRIDAY
Grilled cheese

The well guys are here and so far, they have spent forty minutes weed whacking, and then they knocked on the door and said, “Okay, so WHERE is the well?” So I showed them. The ducks are absolutely amazed. We’re all amazed. Corrie is siting next to me on the couch, watching me write and telling me where I should have added a comma. So I’ve got that going for me, as well. 

The kid who moved out likes her new apartment, the kid who moved into the newly-free room is delighted with her new room, and we found the gorilla mask that Irene bought to wear to her first dance. See, water isn’t everything. 

And that’s my story! It’s not a good story, but I wasn’t sure I would ever get to the end of this post, but I did. If you’re here, too, congratulations. Excelsior. 

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Oven-fried chicken so much easier than pan frying, and you still get that crisp skin and juicy meat – chicken parts (wings, drumsticks, thighs) – milk (enough to cover the chicken at least halfway up) – eggs (two eggs per cup of milk) – flour – your choice of seasonings (I usually use salt, pepper, garlic powder, cumin, paprika, and chili powder) – oil and butter for cooking 1) At least three hours before you start to cook, make an egg and milk mixture and salt it heavily, using two eggs per cup of milk, so there’s enough to soak the chicken at least halfway up. Beat the eggs, add the milk, stir in salt, and let the chicken soak in this. This helps to make the chicken moist and tender. 2) About 40 minutes before dinner, turn the oven to 425, and put a pan with sides into the oven. I use a 15″x21″ sheet pan and I put about a cup of oil and one or two sticks of butter. Let the pan and the butter and oil heat up. 3) While it is heating up, put a lot of flour in a bowl and add all your seasonings. Use more than you think is reasonable! Take the chicken parts out of the milk mixture and roll them around in the flour until they are coated on all sides. 4) Lay the floured chicken in the hot pan, skin side down. Let it cook for 25 minutes. 5) Flip the chicken over and cook for another 20 minutes. 6) Check for doneness and serve immediately. It’s also great cold.  

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Oven-fried chicken

so much easier than pan frying, and you still get that crisp skin and juicy meat

Ingredients

  • chicken parts (wings, drumsticks, thighs)
  • milk (enough to cover the chicken at least halfway up)
  • eggs (two eggs per cup of milk)
  • flour
  • your choice of seasonings (I usually use salt, pepper, garlic powder, cumin, paprika, and chili powder)
  • oil and butter for cooking

Instructions

  1. At least three hours before you start to cook, make an egg and milk mixture and salt it heavily, using two eggs per cup of milk, so there's enough to soak the chicken at least halfway up. Beat the eggs, add the milk, stir in salt, and let the chicken soak in this. This helps to make the chicken moist and tender.

  2. About 40 minutes before dinner, turn the oven to 425, and put a pan with sides into the oven. I use a 15"x21" sheet pan and I put about a cup of oil and one or two sticks of butter. Let the pan and the butter and oil heat up.

  3. While it is heating up, put a lot of flour in a bowl and add all your seasonings. Use more than you think is reasonable! Take the chicken parts out of the milk mixture and roll them around in the flour until they are coated on all sides.

  4. Lay the floured chicken in the hot pan, skin side down. Let it cook for 25 minutes.

  5. Flip the chicken over and cook for another 20 minutes.

  6. Check for doneness and serve immediately. It's also great cold.

 

Spaghetti carbonara

An easy, delicious meal.

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs bacon
  • 3 lbs spaghetti
  • 1 to 1-1/2 sticks butter
  • 6 eggs, beaten
  • lots of pepper
  • 6-8 oz grated parmesan cheese

Instructions

  1. Fry the bacon until it is crisp. Drain and break it into pieces.

  2. Boil the spaghetti in salted water until al dente. If you like, add some bacon grease to the boiling water.

  3. Drain the spaghetti and return it to the pot. Add the butter, pieces of bacon, parmesan cheese, and pepper and mix it up until the butter is melted.

  4. Add the raw beaten egg and mix it quickly until the spaghetti is coated. Serve immediately.

 

Chicken shawarma

Ingredients

  • 8 lbs boned, skinned chicken thighs
  • 4-5 red onions
  • 1.5 cups lemon juice
  • 2 cups olive oil
  • 4 tsp kosher salt
  • 2 Tbs, 2 tsp pepper
  • 2 Tbs, 2 tsp cumin
  • 1 Tbsp red pepper flakes
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1 entire head garlic, crushed

Instructions

  1. Mix marinade ingredients together, then add chicken. Put in ziplock bag and let marinate several hours or overnight.

  2. Preheat the oven to 425.

  3. Grease a shallow pan. Take the chicken out of the marinade and spread it in a single layer on the pan, and top with the onions (sliced or quartered). Cook for 45 minutes or more. 

  4. Chop up the chicken a bit, if you like, and finish cooking it so it crisps up a bit more.

  5. Serve chicken and onions with pita bread triangles, cucumbers, tomatoes, assorted olives, feta cheese, fresh parsley, pomegranates or grapes, fried eggplant, and yogurt sauce.

 

Yogurt sauce

Ingredients

  • 32 oz full fat Greek yogurt
  • 5 cloves garlic, crushed
  • 1/4 cup lemon juice
  • 3 Tbsp olive oil
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/2 tsp pepper
  • fresh parsley or dill, chopped (optional)

Instructions

  1. Mix all ingredients together. Use for spreading on grilled meats, dipping pita or vegetables, etc. 

The table where you sit

It’s been an ugly week in Catholic discourse, again.

I saw the clips of the opening of the Olympics, and I heard all the arguments. I heard people quivering with outrage because a crowned woman surrounded by drag queens was acting out a gross and deliberate mockery of the Last Supper by Leonardo Da Vinci; and I heard others snottily correcting them and claiming the scene was obviously echoing a Bacchanal, probably specifically “The Feast of the Gods” by Jan Hermansz van Bijlert, which explains the tubby blue Dionysus lounging on a plate of fruit. Everybody knows that famous ban Bijlert painting, duh

An Olympics spokesperson said,“Clearly there was never an intention to show disrespect to any religious group. [The opening ceremony] tried to celebrate community tolerance,” and many readers took this statement as a denial that there was any intentional reference to the Last Supper. But Barbara Butch, the crowned woman at the center of the scene, posted an Instagram story comparing the two images, with the caption:  “OH YES! OH YES! THE NEW GAY TESTAMENT!”

I’m pretty sure it was intended as both: A snarky little nod to the Last Supper, and an equally facile gesture in the direction of ancient Greek history. It’s the Olympics! Here’s a god! It’s a cultural moment! Here’s the DaVinky thing! Lights! Drag! Naughty bulges! Tee hee!

I think that’s all it was. Just the usual flashy mess that passes for artistic expression: A tossed salad of visual moments that read as significant because they’re vaguely familiar, and no one has to put in the effort of actually meaning anything or knowing what you’re suggesting (or even knowing what you’re parodying). Serve it dressed with plausible deniability so the Christians will freak out and make themselves look silly, and there it is. My main critique of the whole is that it’s so incredibly boring to talk about (and honestly, if I were a drag queen, I’d start to resent how often I get trotted out to buy some cheap headlines). The public seem to have an endless appetite for this particular flavor of controversy, though, so people keep serving it up. 

So let’s take it at face value. What does it mean to see the Last Supper and a Bacchanal on the same stage? Even if you think the Last Supper imagery wasn’t intentionally there, they’re both there on the stage of public discourse now. So let’s talk about that. 

We could say that the Last Supper represents sacrifice and redemptive suffering and everything Christianity stands for, whereas a drag bacchanal represents excess and broken boundaries and everything modern secular culture stands for. And if you’ve seen them both, you have to chose one or the other.

You could say that, but you’d have to wake me up before the end of the sentence, because you’re boring me to death.

What if, instead, we talk about who we are, and what we have to offer? 

Last week, my family visited a city, which we rarely do. My kids are not used to tall buildings or traffic; and they’re not used to homeless encampments. So when we started walking down a block lined with scruffy, dirty men, I quietly told my youngest to move to the other side of me. I wanted to protect her, just in case. 

It wasn’t the wrong thing to do. I don’t know these men, and it wasn’t unreasonable to worry that they might hurt or scare my kid. But as I passed by, one gentlemen, tall, shaggy, and very dirty, called out “You have a good day, ma’am.” He smiled toothlessly, and bowed his head as we passed. 

I felt like absolute trash. I know I hurt his feelings by shielding my child from his presence. Again, it was only the prudent thing to do, but I think I will remember that man and his smile for the rest of my life. This man who had so little went out of his way to let me know he meant no harm, and to offer reassurance.

A moment ago, I was the wholesome, wealthy, sane one holding my child’s hand and striding purposefully toward my destination, and then suddenly, in his eyes, I was the beggar in need of consolation. It’s strange how quickly these things can shift. I went into the situation thinking the man was a threat, but he knew himself as someone with something to offer. 

I thought of him again during the readings at Mass this morning: The multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Jesus comes with nothing, no apparent plan, no preparation, no way to feed the multitudes. But the people are drawn to him. They want to go over to his side, because it’s so clear he has something to offer. So he reassures them, and he feeds them. He does this because he knows who he is: Despite how empty-handed he appears, he is the one who has something to offer. He knows who he is. He is the one who feeds. 

Several people argued that Christians have no call to be offended over anyone appropriating the imagery of Leonardo’s Last Supper. It’s not even really a Christian image anymore, because it has so thoroughly passed over into the public imagination, it’s bigger than Christianity now. It’s just a picture of people eating together, being together, having a moment together around a charismatic figure. The image may have been scriptural once, but it really isn’t, anymore; and the Christians who are stamping their feet and calling it blasphemy are now actually the intruders, the uninvited guests at the feast. They’re the ones who don’t belong, and are dirtying up the sidewalk and posing a threat. 

I kind of agree. 

The whole point of our faith is that we live in a place of generosity. Jesus is the generous one, the depthless fountain, the vine that never stops fruiting, the lamb who was slain once and now feeds us with his flesh forever and ever, without suffering, without loss, without depletion. The one who feeds. That is who we are with, at whose table we sit.

We can, in other words, afford . . . this. Whatever it is, whatever was intended. We can afford to give our imagery away. We can afford to give everything away, because are so incredibly, unspeakably wealthy, because we sit at a table with the Lord. We’re not going to run out. And if we feel like we are, if we are afraid of what will become of our faith, it’s because we’ve allowed our faith to become an empty image, and we think it can be harmed.

The real faith is inexhaustible. We may ourselves be tired, but our faith is not; and Jesus is not. Cannot be exhausted. 

I understand the cultural moment we’re at. I try to be prudent, and so I am fearful, and I want to shield myself and my children from the dirty and threatening things that line the path we have to walk together. Just yesterday, my same youngest child wanted to buy a pretty piece of rose quartz at a children’s fair, and the woman selling it had plastered her cash register with pentagrams and slogans cheering for abortion. How do we walk this path? Some days I am in despair, because I haven’t shielded my children well enough, and I know it. I wish I had done a better job of putting myself in between them and potential harms. 

But I also see is how poor the world is. Poor in imagination, poor in theology. Starving to death amid plenty, writhing around on a giant platter of fruit, but all of it artificial, painted and empty. They are so needy, they can’t even think come up with their own party, but they must borrow from all those fake gods, that Dionysus, that Jesus. Instead of joy, all they have is an eternal “tee hee.” 

I also want to remember who I am, and where I stand.

I know that some people see me as the threat: I am, in so many people’s eyes, the intolerant conservative, the TERF, the oppressor, with my narrow mind and impure body of thought. Because of what I believe, I am potentially violent. Maybe I’m insane, maybe I have fleas, maybe I bite. At very least, I have my beggar’s hand out, needy, desperate with self-pity. I represent a church that, in their eyes, perpetually condones abuse and oppression, and a theology that says nothing but no, no, no. Sometimes I want to reassure the non-Christian I meet with a little smile: I will not hurt you. I’m just living my life. You have a good day, now. 

But it’s not my theology that’s at fault. It’s not my faith; it’s me. I perpetually forget myself, who I am, where I sit. Here I am, stuffed to the gills with the goodness of God and all I can think to do is bitch and whine that somebody borrowed my painting without asking. Je meurs de soif auprès de la fontaine.

So, which is it? Am I a beggar, or am I a rich woman who strides coldly by? Am I an oppressor, or am I on the side of lovelovelove? Am I mocked and persecuted, or am I thin-skinned and self-obsessed? Am I hungry and in need? Or have I been fed with the bread of life itself? 

Both. Neither. All of the above. That’s what it means when the Last Supper and a Bacchanal are on the same stage in the year 2024. It means we live amid heaps of bounty empty of meaning, and also we are invited to sit down to a spare meal of bread and wine that will feed us forever. It means we have a bottomless budget for all the right ideas — love, tolerance, acceptance, peace, togetherness — without even wondering what lurks at the bottom of that well. And it means we have hours and hours to spend on Facebook posts and podcasts and Instagram stories, hotly defending our faith that knows the true meaning of love, and oops, the whole day went by and we didn’t feed anybody. It is wrong to mock the Last Supper without knowing or caring what it means. It is worse to defend the Last Supper by making it seem joyless and repellent. 

If we sometimes feel like a beggar, and sometimes feel like heirs to unfathomable riches, it’s because it’s all true. That’s what it means to be a Christian, and to walk the narrow path. It’s weird, but it would be weirder if our the faith that gives our lives meaning could be compressed into a single image or soundbite or tableau. 

I do have a message, though, and I think it’s better than “diversity and being together.” It is this:

Remember who you are. You are the one who has been fed. You are satiated. You can afford to share. Behave as if you know how rich you are, and then see if people will want to come to that heavy-laden table and eat. 

 

 

 

What’s for supper? Vol. 386: What to cook when it’s too hot to cook

My goodness, it has been hot. So very hot. I know it’s not like Florida or Houston or whatever here, but in New Hampshire, we have made certain trade-offs. Our growing season is four days long! Sometimes in the winter, I have to scrape off the inside of my windshield!  Our heating bills are so high, we conserve energy by only listing two things in a joke, rather than the classic three!

And so we don’t expect to get frizzled for a week at a time like this. 

But that is what happened. So I tried my best to feed everyone without adding extra heat to the house with the oven or stove. Here is what we had: 

SATURDAY
Muffaletta sandwiches, chips

I don’t really have a recipe for the olive salad. I think I used two cans of black olives, one jar of green olives, maybe a jar of kalamata olives, red wine vinegar, olive oil, and maybe some red onion. Maybe some jalapeños or possibly banana peppers. Probably some red pepper flakes. Those figured heavily into my meals this week. 

And then we just had, I don’t even know what, capicola, pepperoni, ham, provolone, maybe some prosciutto. And we had it on sweet Hawaiian buns.

Close enough. And no oven!

I do like these sandwiches, and I made tons of olive salad and just snacked on it all week. Mmm.

SUNDAY
Southwest chicken salad

I drizzled some chicken breasts with olive oil and sprinkled them heavily with Taijin chili lime seasoning, then broiled them. Cut it up and served it on salad greens with cherry tomatoes, shredded pepper jack cheese, and crunchy fried onions, with chipotle ranch dressing, and some of those “street corn” corn chips on the side. 

Very decent salad. It would have been good with that embarassingly-named Mexicorn, or even some beans, but it was nice as it was. 

MONDAY
Tortellini salad, crackers, watermelon

New recipe! I saw it on Sip and Feast and didn’t see how it could possibly be bad. I more or less followed the recipe, except I used capicola instead of sopressata, but I did have some nice peppered hard salami, and all the rest: Spinach, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella, kalamata olives, and cherry tomatoes, and then the dressing is made of red wine vinegar, olive oil, honey, Dijon mustard, oregano, red pepper flakes, garlic, salt, and pepper. 

I cut a watermelon into chunks and put out some boxes of crackers, and it was a really good little summer meal.

 I would eat this way all summer if I could. I did snack on the tortellini salad for the rest of the week, along with the olive salad, and they both got better as the week went on. 

On Monday night, Benny and Corrie and I finally got around to doing this dumb TikTok recipe we saw, called Orange Milk Jelly

This consists of peeling some tangerines or clementines, impaling them on a straw or chopstick inside a bottle

then simmering together some milk, sugar, and unflavored gelatin and filling up the bottle.

I had a lot of extra milk mixture, but we didn’t have another bottle to use as a mold for another orange stack, so we cut up some peaches and put them in a ziplock bag with the rest of the milk. 

We stuck these monstrosities in the refrigerator and walked away. 

TUESDAY
BLTs, ice cream pie

Tuesday was Lucy’s birthday, so Damien braved the hot kitchen and fried up a ton of bacon for the requested BLTs. She and her sisters made some ice cream pies in the morning so they would be frozen by evening.

If you haven’t made ice cream pies, you can shop for ingredients, but they’re also a good way to use up little bits of leftover this-and-that from various desserts. I usually start with a graham cracker (or Oreo) crust, but if they freeze long enough, you can make them crustless (or make a simple crust with graham crackers, sugar, and melted butter whirred in a food processor, pressed into a pie plate, and baked for ten minutes or so).

You mash up the ice cream in a bowl with a potato masher until it’s the consistency of soft serve, and then spread that in the crust, and festoon it with whatever you like, anything you might put on a sundae.  Then freeze it for several hours until it’s solid enough to cut into wedges. 

She requested blackberry ice cream and coffee ice cream, gummy bears and worms, Skittles, and mini marshmallows. That sounds like a weird combination, and it is! But she was happy.

Me oh my, another birthday. 

We also got the milk jelly thing out of the bottle by running hot water over the outside and shaking it violently. It did emerge in two parts — lovely, winsome-looking parts, if I may say so —

and we sliced them up, and they turned out looking exactly like in the TikTok

uhhh more or less. 

Guess what? They were not that great. I slightly burned the milk jelly part, so that was not great to begin with.  But it really wasn’t sweet enough to be a dessert, at least not for American tastes, so even if it hadn’t been burned, I think it would have been a swing and a miss.

But what about the peach blob! We blorped that out of its bag, and sliced it up into sort of flabby biscotti shapes

What can I say, it didn’t win any prizes of any kind. Don’t forget, I burned it. And now I can stop thinking about it! Which is why you do TikTok recipes. 

WEDNESDAY
Hamburgers, veg and dip or hummus, chips

Damien made the burgers outside on his cinderblock grill. And very good they are, burgers that somebody else made outside. I forgot to take a picture, even though my veggie platter was very pretty and the burgers were very juicy. 

THURSDAY
Pulled pork sandwiches, collard greens

It was shaping up to be a very drivey day, so I started some pulled pork in the morning. It had cooled off a little bit, so I didn’t mind searing the meat on the stovetop before putting it in the Instant Pot to get tender. Here’s my recipe, which is a warm, spicy, cidery kind of pulled pork with lots of cloves and cumin and jalapeños.

Jump to Recipe

Then I ran out to the garden to get some collard greens. We keep having super hot, super humid days with short spells of pounding rain, and then it just goes right back to being punishingly hot and humid again. This is apparently paradise for snails, and they are everywhere. There may or may not be some snails in this picture. I picked off as many as I could find and then I gave up. 

But I can understand why the snails wanted to eat those collards. They are nice and tender, very unlike the tough, rubbery collards you get at the supermarket, so I wasn’t too fussy about removing every bit of stem.I just pulled off the thickest ones and rolled up the leaves to cut them into ribbons

I use this vegan recipe for collard greens, which calls for liquid smoke, just because I rarely have smoked meat or ham hocks or whatever. I cooked the onions and garlic, cider vinegar, greens, broth, pepper flakes, salt, pepper, and paprika in a skillet and then transferred them to the slow cooker to cook the rest of the day.

You know collard greens are ready to eat when they look like something that makes the plumber say, “Well HERE’S your problem right here.”

 But man, they are delicious. 

The pulled pork was quite nice, too. I served it on kaiser buns with Sweet Baby Ray’s BBQ sauce

and woof, that was a pretty spicy meal! The air had cooled down enough that I wasn’t mad to be sweating over my dinner, though, and it was nice to just have an Instant Pot pot and a crock pot crock to wash up. 

FRIDAY
PBJ

Or something. Damien is taking a bunch of the kids to the beach with friends for Part II of Lucy’s birthday, and Benny has a library lock-in thing, and I think the few still at home will just have to struggle by with whatever we can scrounge. 

And I will be packing! The main thing I did all week, besides sweat and complain, was to write and write and write to get ahead, because on Saturday we are leaving for VACATION. We don’t manage this every year, and I can’t even actually remember where I got the $$; but back in the winter, I rented a house on an ISLAND, that is only accessible by FERRY, and where the natives DISCOURAGE TOURISM, and I remember there being SEA GLASS. So I am pretty excited!

(Burglars, there will be people staying at the house, so don’t bother breaking in to steal our . . . our very valuable and expensive, uhh . . . . . you know what, go ahead and look around and tell me if you find anything good.)

Okay, that’s a wrap! Don’t burn any milk jelly while I’m gone!

Clovey pulled pork

Ingredients

  • fatty hunk of pork
  • salt and pepper
  • oil for browning
  • 1 cup apple cider vinegar
  • 2/3 cup apple juice
  • 3 jalapeños with tops removed, seeds and membranes intact
  • 1 onion, quartered
  • 2 Tbsp cumin
  • 1 tsp red pepper flakes
  • 2 tsp ground cloves

Instructions

  1. Cut pork into hunks. Season heavily with salt and pepper.

  2. Heat oil in heavy pot and brown pork on all sides.

  3. Move browned pork into Instant Pot or slow cooker or dutch oven. Add all the other ingredients. Cover and cook slowly for at least six hours.

  4. When pork is tender, shred.

Did God save Donald Trump’s life?

Because I make an effort to stay in contact with people of all political stripes, my social media feed has been…especially stripey lately.

One image that keeps turning up is something A.I. churned out in response to Donald Trump’s recent brush with death: It appears to be Mary, blue-eyed and lipsticked and wearing nice little earrings, placidly extending her middle finger to twitch a bullet (still in its shell casing) out of its deadly path. Her manicured thumb and forefinger form a gesture that reminded many viewers of the white supremacy “OK” sign, but which others have argued looks more like a gesture of blessing common in Orthodox icons.

I’m analyzing this insane image in detail because it is so meaningful—not, perhaps, in the way the A.I. prompter intended, but as an illustration of this political, cultural and religious moment.

The image is being passed around by folks who believe it’s clear that God miraculously and directly intervened to save Trump from death. The bullet fired by Thomas Crooks should have hit him square in the skull, but instead it only grazed his ear, sparing his life and freeing him to go on and do whatever he will do.

And maybe that is what God did! I don’t know what God does or does not do. I’m not under the illusion that the Almighty, blessed be he, is carefully calibrating his decisions based on how a chronically online middle-aged swing state double hater like me might react. God’s ways are not my ways, and thank God for that.

Or maybe it was just a meaningless coincidence that the bullet missed. Maybe a blackfly bit that young man on the elbow right at the moment of truth, and he flinched just enough to shoot his shot millimeters astray. Or maybe he just wasn’t a very good marksman. I don’t know.

A good many commenters do believe they know. A priest prayed for his safety right before the speech, so is this not, argued many, clearly an answer to prayer? God clearly did that! But, protested others, why in the world would God spare the life of an adulterous felon who’s poised to wreak unimaginable havoc on our nation for a second time around? God would never do that!

But once we start thinking about what God clearly made happen or clearly didn’t make happen, it opens up a whole world of uncomfortable questions. If God and/or Mary and/or a flag-shaped angel did nudge that bullet aside to spare the former president’s life, then why did he let another bullet hit firefighter Corey Comperatore right in the head? How could that A.I. Mary look so placid while knowing this was about to happen? Is it because Trump is more powerful and therefore more important than ordinary folk? Was it because Our Lady knew people would be inspired by the man’s heroic death, and it would bring out the best in people who heard the story?

But some people who did hear of Mr. Comperatore’s valiant sacrifice said that it doesn’t matter because only fascists would be at a Trump rally, and “fascists aren’t people” (a comment I read with my own eyeballs on Facebook). Several said that he deserves no praise because he said awful things about Palestinians on Twitter, and it’s just as well he’s gone. You have to wonder: If Trump’s survival was God’s will, why doesn’t God care that it brought out the very worst in so many people?

The answer is to refuse to play this game. God isn’t impressed by the power of a political candidate (even the one we favor), and he doesn’t desire the suffering and humiliation of any human (even our political enemies). When we bring these ugly ideas out into the light, we must see how repugnant they are.

And yet, we do pray. We do ask God for things. If we don’t think that God listens to our prayers and responds to them, then why do we bother?

Oddly enough, dwelling on that grotesque A.I. image of Mary gave me some new thoughts about God’s providence.

I saw another image on social media…. Read the rest of my latest for America Magazine

 

What’s for supper? Vol. 385: Hot, hot, hot

Happy Friday! We are being unusually sociable this morning, and after making arrangements for Benny to have a little pool party, I took Lucy and Irene to their friend’s house. It’s only 25 minutes away, but very rural, and last time I went there, it was dark and foggy. But I COULD NOT FIND MY PHONE, which I depend on utterly to help me get around.

So, intrepidly, I went to Mapquest and printed out instructions just like in the olde days. And just like in the olde days, we couldn’t find any papere, so had to print over paper that already had something on it, and it ran out of inke before it was done, so we had to write the last few turns in with pen.

But, INTREPID, we started out, and after twenty minutes were pretty thoroughly lost. I shifted fairly seamlessly from my standard “really all it takes to get through life is a little confidence” monologue to my “you know, all my life I thought I was dumb because I got lost all the time, but now I know that everybody’s dumb about something, and it’s okay if you aren’t good at anything” monologue, and then modulated to a slightly desperate commentary on “It sure is pretty out here.” But we got there eventually, and I told the kids to go in and give me the high sign so I know it’s the right house. 

They never did, so I left.

I was — it’s hot. I’m not at my best. And no matter what I say to my teen daughters, I am pretty sure I’m stupid. 

Then I got even more lost on the way home, like, really, really lost. And then I found some roads that looked right, but I wasn’t sure which way I was supposed to be going on them. But eventually I went past a ski lodge that I had a very strong memory of being on the right hand side when I went there to pick up a kid with a sprained wrist, and, long story short, that sure was a big loop I made. But I did get home. And then I found my phone.

If anyone asks, this is a story about how Mapquest is subpar.

Here’s what we ate this week!

SATURDAY
Italian sandwiches

Geting ready for the big family independence day party, so I figured just simple sandwiches. Forgot to get sliced meat at Aldi, so I stopped at the deli counter at the second supermarket, and there was an ollllllld man with his olllllllld wife in a Rascal Scooter there, and he kept saying things like, “How’s about a taste of that uhhhhhh say that buffalo chicken?” and the deli guy would fetch the buffalo chicken and put it on the slicer and turn it on and cut a slice and fold it in half and put it on a little plastic square and hand it to the old man, and he would examine it and hand it to his wife, who would carefully unwrap it and, with great dignity, take a small bite, and she would say shakily, “That’s pretty good, but you know Stan I was wondering about the sodium” and the old man would say, “Ohhh, yahhhh, that’s something, the sodium. What about uhhhhh that Krakus ham?”

So I says to myself, I says, I will come back later.

Then I forgot. So I sent Damien out, and he got some meat, and we had sandwiches, and all I can say is, I hope I never turn into one of those ollllllld couples that goes on and on telling pointless stories about —

Hey, have you noticed, this website is free? 

SUNDAY
Cookout!

Sunday was just plain great. Lots of family and friends came, and we had lots of food, and my brother Izzy brought lots of sparklers and fireworks. Kids swam in the pool and splashed in the stream and played in the sandbox and on the swingset and trampoline, everyone had plenty to eat and drink, and it was just lovely. Glow sticks, glowing cups, temporary tattoos, torches and sticky kids. This is my favorite party. Bunch of photos here:

 

Oh, and we rented a COTTON CANDY MACHINE.

I cannot recommend this highly enough. There was a bit of a learning curve, but once we got it going, it was super easy, and it was delightful.

Much cheaper than I expected, too. Loud as heck, but it made a huge amount of cotton candy with each batch, and we ran it three times. It was a nice way to keep the party going, and just about everybody, of every age, wanted at least some. 

The rest of the menu was: Lots and lots of vegetables with dip and hummus

and several watermelons; wonderful savory baked beans from my sorta sister-in-law Elizabeth, guacamole from my brother Joe, and Damien cooked hot dogs, brats, hamburgers, and chicken thighs on the grill, and we had a mountain of chips, and for dessert, red and blue Jello cups with Kool Whip, and ice cream cups, and then just straight up bags of candy in the dark at the end. 

Ah, what a good party. Somebody found some of those weird black snakes, and we lit them all up at once while everyone chanted “SNAKE! SNAKE! SNAKE! SNAKE!” 

We always seem to have chanting at our parties. 

MONDAY
Cookout leftovers!

So many cookout leftovers. 

This would be a good time to talk about the Jello Hand. I had some leftover Jello after filling up all the cups that would fit in the fridge, so I filled up a glove and, because it had recently been the Fourth of July, called it The Invisible Hand of the Market, which, NO, picky-picky, that doesn’t make any sense. 

Some people might find it hard to figure out how to get a Jello hand such as this to stand up and keep its shape while it gels, but it happens that my almost entirely otherwise useless brain is really good at solving this kind of problem.

So then after the party, we had this Jello hand, and we didn’t know what to do with it, so Corrie ate it. 

and that’s-a my story. 

TUESDAY
Aldi pizza

Tuesday we still had more cookout leftovers in the fridge, but I couldn’t bring myself to serve them again, but I also couldn’t bring myself to cook anything. And that’s what Aldi pizza is for. 

WEDNESDAY
Chicken pesto pasta, bread

Wednesday I went to West Lebanon to have lunch with my friend Jenni, who I’ve been friends with for something like 24 years but have never met in person!

The internet was basically a mistake, except for the part where you make online friends that are absolutely real friends. (And also the part with the maps that tell you where to go.)

Got home and it was SO HOT. It’s been so hot and so humid all week. Not in the 100’s or anything, like some parts, but still pretty freaking hot, and it’s just exhausting, and everything makes you sweaty, and it’s hard to think or do anything. So I did the quickiest shortcut meal I could think of without heating up the kitchen too much, with ingredients on hand, which was: A few pounds of rotini, a bunch of butter, a bunch of shredded parmesan, and a few jars of pesto, and chunks of chicken breast I had cooked in the Instant Pot. 

A decent summer meal. I honestly don’t think it would have tasted better if I had gone through a whole hot ordeal making a cream sauce or whatever. 

THURSDAY
Korean pork ribs, rice, watermelon

An actual recipe! I got a giant rack of pork ribs for like $10, without a solid plan, but found this likely-looking recipe from Glebe Kitchen. Super simple. You just sprinkle the meat with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, and cook it in the oven for an hour or so, until it hits 180 degrees.

Toward the end of cooking, you make a quick gochujang sauce, with garlic and ginger, soy sauce, mirin, rice vinegar, sesame oil, gochujang, and brown sugar. It also calls for fish sauce, which I didn’t have. 

I wanted each rib to have plenty of sauce, so I cut the ribs up first (and that was a bit of a travesty. I think I need a meat cleaver), and then brushed them with sauce

then put it back in the oven for another ten minutes or so, finishing it with the broiler, until they got a little bit blackened in spots, and were sizzling

OH, so good. The sauce was thick and sticky, spicy and a little sweet, and the meat was tender and juicy. Probably could have left it in the oven for another five minutes to really let the glaze get a little thicker, but there were no complaints.

I had made a pot of rice in the Instant Pot and cut up the last remaining watermelon (yes, I bought too many watermelons for the party) and it was an excellent meal.

Briefly considered making Korean-inspired collard greens, because this meal is really callong for something green; but did I mention it’s HOT, and I’m not like other people, and when it’s hot, I don’t want to cook? It’s true. 

Definitely making these ribs again. I was afraid the sauce was going to be too spicy and maybe a little harsh, which is how it tasted when it was just sauce; but once it got cooked onto the meat, it mellowed and was perfect. MANY of us thought it was perfect. 

Many of us had to be cautioned to slow down so as not to accidentally devour our own little fingers, which are not made of Jello. 

FRIDAY
Honestly, probably pizza again

You’ll never guess: It’s hot out. Kids are swimming, dog is panting, cat is stretched out pathetically on the bathroom floor, barely even able to muster the strength to bite anybody’s ankles. Very sad. I think he needs some Aldi pizza. 

Speaking of the cat and dog, this week is the anniversary of the days we brought both these worthy animals home — the cat, a year ago, and the dog, four years ago. 

Look at them now!

They’re both such good boys, and such good friends

And you know what else, Damien’s going to pick the kids up from their fun time with friends who live in terra incognita. Because it’s hot.