The Hunt
We were twitching like felines ready to pounce; my fiancé and I were just waiting for the perfect time to spring into action as we stalked wide-eyed through the territory we had sniffed out. When finally the rat showed a sign of hesitation, we jumped. Claws extended, we grasped the opportunity to sink our teeth into the pulsating neck of our prey. There in the finished attic of a Colonial revival surrounded by fresh paint and new carpet, we became accomplished hunters: We had made an offer on the house.
The fresh taste of blood is still on my whiskers as I sit in this tiny one-bedroom apartment waiting for our closing date in late April, staring out the balcony eleven stories up, thinking to myself, "I won't miss this place."
We've been here too long, years. Throwing away rent month after month and for what? Beige carpeting and white walls; linoleum; concrete. As if it wasn't already undesirable enough, it's not even ours. It's a temporary month-to-month roof over our head that comes with loud neighbors, heavy traffic and uniformity. I look out my window and I see another building shaped just like this one, with windows that look just like mine, tiny balconies with green patches of lichen just like mine, knowing that people who are nothing like me or each other are living in the same apartment cut from the same cheap mold. I not only feel tiny, but I feel uninspired.
We had thirty odd houses in mind, and it only took walking through two to find the perfect one. I had that same feeling in my heart that I had when I met my fiancé for the first time. It's that feeling that everything is right and you don't need to look further. It's the feeling of seeing the Universe smile on you.
The New Member of the Family
Molly was just a stray taken to the shelter in the middle of a cold, unforgiving winter along Lake Erie. Her brown patches of tabby-patterned hair are uneven on her neck, and broken up on her back by stubborn patches of white, giving her an appearance of an atlas from the back: Dark earth surrounded by a frozen white ocean. I didn't even know Molly existed, and I didn't quite care.
Who I cared about was the black cat with the white whiskers.
Jon-Michael and I were walking through the now-closed Pet Supermarket to purchase rat food for Norman and Robert, my aging rodents. The Pet Supermarket, along with some other pet stores, works with a local animal shelter to provide space for adoptable pets when that shelter, in this case, the Animal Protective League, runs out of space. It wasn't unnatural, then, that I would meet a cat sitting in a small cage, pathetic eyes watching everyone walk by, and instantly fall in love. But we left only with two bags of rat food, a thought in my mind, and a soft spot in my heart.
That night, as I pieced together a bookshelf from a box, I got the crazy notion that we needed a cat. Not just any cat, but that cat. He was sweet and beautiful and old, and it wasn't fair that he was sitting in a cage barely big enough for him to turn in a full circle. It didn't take long for my glassy doe eyes to convince Jon-Michael that bringing him home was the right thing to do.
The next day, we went back to the Pet Supermarket, and I rushed over to the small tower of three cages. He wasn't there. I started to cry. I didn't just want to give a cat a home; I wanted to give that cat a home. They weren't all tears of sorrow, because his departure meant that another family was giving him the love I would have.
In his cage instead was Molly, though her label at the time said "Hiley." She wasn't particularly interested in me, but I couldn't turn away from her hazel eyes that were rimmed in black. I came looking to adopt a pet and give an adult cat a new and better life. If it wasn't going to be the black tom, why not her?
Molly Murderface has been ignoring us from her various sleeping spots around the apartment ever since, and I couldn't be happier.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Sunday, October 4, 2009
The Road to Hell is Lined with Yarn
Unrolling the Ball
I admit, I once was one of those people who regarded knitting as a hobby for lonely old women. I could picture them sitting in worn-out recliners, little gold crosses dangling from their necks, skirts down to their ankles, an aged cat resting at their feet. And then, a few years ago, I met my best friend.
Maria is not your stereotypical knitter. Rather than being 62, she's 26; rather than having white, permed hair, she has dark, wild, short hair with the occasional stripe of pink or purple when she feels like it. Rather than wearing sensible slacks or a long house dress, she wears skirts she makes out of T-shirts and hand-knits that don't match the rest of her outfit. Maria is pretty damn cool.
You can imagine my surprise when, the first time I was invited into her home, I saw piles and piles of yarn skeins. Rich cashmeres, fuzzy wools, colorful cotton blends. Her couch was draped in beautiful hand-knit blankets, and there was more than one project sitting on the cushions, still on the needles, waiting for attention.
Not long after, I wanted to learn. She taught me the basics, and eventually I knit a big ol' blanket for my father (and by knit, I mean knit - nothing special, not even one solitary purl stitch). Then I ended up moving an hour and a half out of town, and though we talk all the time about things other than knitting and obviously maintain a good friendship, I no longer have my own personal teacher.
Learning On My Own
I've had to learn a lot by myself with, of course, the help of Google. I taught myself how to bind off, because I knew that calling her at 3:00 a.m. when I was ready to finish a small project wasn't a good idea. Not that she wouldn't have been awake, but because it's hard to describe it over the phone. I've been teaching myself everything ever since.
I still have a lot of opportunity for growth. That's my nice way of saying, "Holy shit, I suck." I just started a new project, and realized that there are several ways to make a decrease, and though they all must be different, they all seem the same to me.
This evening, I've been swimming in "k2tog" and "cdd" and "ssk," and wondering what the difference between all three could possibly be. So far, all the descriptions I have found seem to be the same thing, but in different words: "Knit two stitches as one;" "Slip two stitches, then knit together;" "Slip two, knit one, slip back."
I'll figure it all out, and then I'll blog about it.
In the meantime, who doesn't need an awesome bat shawl?
I admit, I once was one of those people who regarded knitting as a hobby for lonely old women. I could picture them sitting in worn-out recliners, little gold crosses dangling from their necks, skirts down to their ankles, an aged cat resting at their feet. And then, a few years ago, I met my best friend.
Maria is not your stereotypical knitter. Rather than being 62, she's 26; rather than having white, permed hair, she has dark, wild, short hair with the occasional stripe of pink or purple when she feels like it. Rather than wearing sensible slacks or a long house dress, she wears skirts she makes out of T-shirts and hand-knits that don't match the rest of her outfit. Maria is pretty damn cool.
You can imagine my surprise when, the first time I was invited into her home, I saw piles and piles of yarn skeins. Rich cashmeres, fuzzy wools, colorful cotton blends. Her couch was draped in beautiful hand-knit blankets, and there was more than one project sitting on the cushions, still on the needles, waiting for attention.
Not long after, I wanted to learn. She taught me the basics, and eventually I knit a big ol' blanket for my father (and by knit, I mean knit - nothing special, not even one solitary purl stitch). Then I ended up moving an hour and a half out of town, and though we talk all the time about things other than knitting and obviously maintain a good friendship, I no longer have my own personal teacher.
Learning On My Own
I've had to learn a lot by myself with, of course, the help of Google. I taught myself how to bind off, because I knew that calling her at 3:00 a.m. when I was ready to finish a small project wasn't a good idea. Not that she wouldn't have been awake, but because it's hard to describe it over the phone. I've been teaching myself everything ever since.
I still have a lot of opportunity for growth. That's my nice way of saying, "Holy shit, I suck." I just started a new project, and realized that there are several ways to make a decrease, and though they all must be different, they all seem the same to me.
This evening, I've been swimming in "k2tog" and "cdd" and "ssk," and wondering what the difference between all three could possibly be. So far, all the descriptions I have found seem to be the same thing, but in different words: "Knit two stitches as one;" "Slip two stitches, then knit together;" "Slip two, knit one, slip back."
I'll figure it all out, and then I'll blog about it.
In the meantime, who doesn't need an awesome bat shawl?
Friday, October 2, 2009
Back to the Grind
May He Rest in Peace
I apologize that I haven't updated in a while, despite this being a new blog that needs to be fleshed out before I can reasonably take a few days, nonetheless weeks, off. However, extenuating circumstances will lead to my forgiveness from my whole, oh, two readers, I'm sure.
My grandfather was in the final stages of Alzheimer's, and I've been splitting my time between my home in Cleveland, Oh, and my family in Erie, Pa. One of my favorite people in the world passed on the morning of September 24, 2009, and I have spent a lot of time with my family before and after that. I love you, Papa.
More Posts to Come
Now that things have calmed down and we're all getting used to the idea that my Papa has passed on,* I'm back in Cleveland and ready to resume my wifely duties, albeit with an air of depression surrounding me that I'm sure will lift as time goes on.
Don't worry, I'll get back to blogging shortly. Apparently, I need to tell women everywhere how to wear stockings so that the back seam stays perfectly straight. It seemed to be the thing people most complimented me on this past weekend. And every time I wear my stockings.
*
I use the term "passed on" because I don't believe that anyone actually passes "away."
I apologize that I haven't updated in a while, despite this being a new blog that needs to be fleshed out before I can reasonably take a few days, nonetheless weeks, off. However, extenuating circumstances will lead to my forgiveness from my whole, oh, two readers, I'm sure.
My grandfather was in the final stages of Alzheimer's, and I've been splitting my time between my home in Cleveland, Oh, and my family in Erie, Pa. One of my favorite people in the world passed on the morning of September 24, 2009, and I have spent a lot of time with my family before and after that. I love you, Papa.
More Posts to Come
Now that things have calmed down and we're all getting used to the idea that my Papa has passed on,* I'm back in Cleveland and ready to resume my wifely duties, albeit with an air of depression surrounding me that I'm sure will lift as time goes on.
Don't worry, I'll get back to blogging shortly. Apparently, I need to tell women everywhere how to wear stockings so that the back seam stays perfectly straight. It seemed to be the thing people most complimented me on this past weekend. And every time I wear my stockings.
*
I use the term "passed on" because I don't believe that anyone actually passes "away."
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Sundays for Women Who Hate Football: Apple Butterscotch Bars
Are You Ready For Some Football?
If you're like me, you're never ready for football. There's something unappealing about overpaid men acting like high-school students chasing each other around a field while wearing tight, shiny pants. Maybe it's the sanctioned violence that seems to pass for religion every Sunday, maybe it's the drunken fans screaming in the stadiums and waving their towels, or maybe it's the fact that the NFL profits off of turning people into wide-eyed consumer zombies.
I do enjoy the football season, if not for the sport. It means that autumn is around the corner, and my fiancé will be parked in front of the Almighty Aquos where, unbeknownst to him, he will be my "new fall recipe" guinea pig.
Football Sundays are the perfect day to spend some quality time with your kitchen, undisturbed. I don't mean hot wings, nachos and fried cheese, but hearty roasts, creamy casseroles, bubbling sauces, and fresh-baked goodies.
Apple Butterscotch Bars
This Sunday, I'm trying a new recipe. I'm not the best baker in the world, so I'm starting off this season with a simple recipe with few ingredients, but that will fill your home with a sweet, tantalizing aroma and will provide you with chewy, oozing apple butter and butterscotch goodness.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup self-rising flour
1 1/2 cup old-fashioned oats
1/2 white sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar, packed
1 cup (2 standard sticks) butter, softened
2/3 cup apple butter
1 11-oz package butterscotch chips
Directions
1) Preheat your oven to 375 F. Grease a 9 x 9 square pan. I made mine in a round pan without consequence, which makes these more or less "slices" than "bars."
2) Mix your flour, oats and sugars in a large bowl, then cut the butter into the mixture until it's good and crumbly. Reserve about 3/4 of a cup of this mixture, then press the remaining into the pan.
3) Spread the mixture with your apple butter. I used a tiny bit more than the 2/3 cup, because it didn't seem like quite enough. And, I have a thing for apple butter.
4) Crumble the remaining flour mixture on top of the apple butter.
5) Spread the entire bag of butterscotch chips over the top. This alone will form it's own delicious, sweet layer.
6) Bake for about 30 to 35 minutes, until the edges are a little bubbly with apple butter and the crumble is a golden brown.
7) Allow to cool completely before serving, and enjoy!
Tips and Tricks
The original recipe called for chopped cashews to be included in the crumble for the top. I, however, hate nuts with a passion and never include them in my recipes. If you are interested in adding that extra crunch, add 1/4 cup of cashews in with the topping.
The butterscotch chips won't melt, so don't visually judge the doneness of these bars by whether or not they look melty. Instead, just look for golden-brown crumb topping peeking through, and the edges bubble a little bit with apple butter.
Don't confuse "apple butter" with "apple jelly." I'm sure there aren't many people who would do that, but I felt it necessary to mention. Apple butter is more of a sauce, made with real apples, cinnamon, and cloves, that's dark and rich with flavor, whereas apple jelly is a clear yellow jelly made with mostly corn syrup. It will be cheaper, but it certainly won't provide you with the proper texture and flavor.
Try this with cinnamon chips or caramel chips, too! You can also try new fillings, if you desire. I'll be trying this recipe with a pumpkin filling next.
Enjoy!
If you're like me, you're never ready for football. There's something unappealing about overpaid men acting like high-school students chasing each other around a field while wearing tight, shiny pants. Maybe it's the sanctioned violence that seems to pass for religion every Sunday, maybe it's the drunken fans screaming in the stadiums and waving their towels, or maybe it's the fact that the NFL profits off of turning people into wide-eyed consumer zombies.
I do enjoy the football season, if not for the sport. It means that autumn is around the corner, and my fiancé will be parked in front of the Almighty Aquos where, unbeknownst to him, he will be my "new fall recipe" guinea pig.
Football Sundays are the perfect day to spend some quality time with your kitchen, undisturbed. I don't mean hot wings, nachos and fried cheese, but hearty roasts, creamy casseroles, bubbling sauces, and fresh-baked goodies.
Apple Butterscotch Bars
This Sunday, I'm trying a new recipe. I'm not the best baker in the world, so I'm starting off this season with a simple recipe with few ingredients, but that will fill your home with a sweet, tantalizing aroma and will provide you with chewy, oozing apple butter and butterscotch goodness.
Ingredients
1 1/2 cup self-rising flour
1 1/2 cup old-fashioned oats
1/2 white sugar
2/3 cup brown sugar, packed
1 cup (2 standard sticks) butter, softened
2/3 cup apple butter
1 11-oz package butterscotch chips
Directions
1) Preheat your oven to 375 F. Grease a 9 x 9 square pan. I made mine in a round pan without consequence, which makes these more or less "slices" than "bars."
2) Mix your flour, oats and sugars in a large bowl, then cut the butter into the mixture until it's good and crumbly. Reserve about 3/4 of a cup of this mixture, then press the remaining into the pan.
3) Spread the mixture with your apple butter. I used a tiny bit more than the 2/3 cup, because it didn't seem like quite enough. And, I have a thing for apple butter.
4) Crumble the remaining flour mixture on top of the apple butter.
5) Spread the entire bag of butterscotch chips over the top. This alone will form it's own delicious, sweet layer.
6) Bake for about 30 to 35 minutes, until the edges are a little bubbly with apple butter and the crumble is a golden brown.
7) Allow to cool completely before serving, and enjoy!
Tips and Tricks
The original recipe called for chopped cashews to be included in the crumble for the top. I, however, hate nuts with a passion and never include them in my recipes. If you are interested in adding that extra crunch, add 1/4 cup of cashews in with the topping.
The butterscotch chips won't melt, so don't visually judge the doneness of these bars by whether or not they look melty. Instead, just look for golden-brown crumb topping peeking through, and the edges bubble a little bit with apple butter.
Don't confuse "apple butter" with "apple jelly." I'm sure there aren't many people who would do that, but I felt it necessary to mention. Apple butter is more of a sauce, made with real apples, cinnamon, and cloves, that's dark and rich with flavor, whereas apple jelly is a clear yellow jelly made with mostly corn syrup. It will be cheaper, but it certainly won't provide you with the proper texture and flavor.
Try this with cinnamon chips or caramel chips, too! You can also try new fillings, if you desire. I'll be trying this recipe with a pumpkin filling next.
Enjoy!
Friday, September 4, 2009
One of My Favorite Websites: ThriftyFun.com
Can I use roofing nails to hang a Picasso print? What's the best way to get coffee stains off of a white dog? Which makes a better mulch for my tomato plants: Cow shit, or the Bible? Does anyone have a pattern for a knitted cover for my grandmother's colostomy bag?
Believe it or not, your parents don't have all the answers to your housekeeping needs. But a stranger in Montana might.
Visit. Bookmark. Love.
My love of fungus had led me to what would no doubt be one of my favorite websites. I was trying to figure out how to freeze the excess mushrooms I purchased when they were buy one, get one free at my local grocery store when I stumbled upon ThriftyFun.com.
I immediately found what I was looking for, and thought nothing else of it. Then I Googled something else, and was eventually led back to the same website. A few times.
A Veritable Gold Mine
ThriftyFun.com is not a pretty website. It's layout leaves much to be desired, as they try to cram in as much information as possible on the first page. But the lack of aesthetics, much like the cover of a book, hides something shimmering and beautiful within its pages: The answers to all your questions.
Up and running since 1997, ThriftyFun.com relies on users to provide its wealth of content, encouraging questions to be asked and answered in a free and friendly environment. Nearly any topic of interest related to the home is covered: Thrifty living and bargain shopping; laundry, stain removal and other cleaning tips; recipes; cooking and storing food; gardening; crafts, including sewing, crocheting and knitting; home improvement; beauty tips; and pet care.
I now know how Ponce de Leon felt when he discovered the beauty and promise of Florida's tropical paradise. Only, instead of the mythical Fountain of Youth and grapefruits, I have found something even better without ever leaving my home.
Peer Pressure
I encourage you to sign up for this free website. It's like getting a free ride to Housekeeping University. Isn't that what we all want, in the end?
I am username LilSiouxsieHomemaker, and I'll be glad to help you freeze all those vegetables you bought that you realized you didn't need.
By the way, to freeze mushrooms, you need to blanche them first so they are just cooked. Spread them evenly on a cookie sheet and freeze until they just turn solid so they don't clump up and freeze together in your Ziplock, then bag n' tag. I save the water I use to cook them in and use it as a base for broth and soup. It's amazing.
Believe it or not, your parents don't have all the answers to your housekeeping needs. But a stranger in Montana might.
Visit. Bookmark. Love.
My love of fungus had led me to what would no doubt be one of my favorite websites. I was trying to figure out how to freeze the excess mushrooms I purchased when they were buy one, get one free at my local grocery store when I stumbled upon ThriftyFun.com.
I immediately found what I was looking for, and thought nothing else of it. Then I Googled something else, and was eventually led back to the same website. A few times.
A Veritable Gold Mine
ThriftyFun.com is not a pretty website. It's layout leaves much to be desired, as they try to cram in as much information as possible on the first page. But the lack of aesthetics, much like the cover of a book, hides something shimmering and beautiful within its pages: The answers to all your questions.
Up and running since 1997, ThriftyFun.com relies on users to provide its wealth of content, encouraging questions to be asked and answered in a free and friendly environment. Nearly any topic of interest related to the home is covered: Thrifty living and bargain shopping; laundry, stain removal and other cleaning tips; recipes; cooking and storing food; gardening; crafts, including sewing, crocheting and knitting; home improvement; beauty tips; and pet care.
I now know how Ponce de Leon felt when he discovered the beauty and promise of Florida's tropical paradise. Only, instead of the mythical Fountain of Youth and grapefruits, I have found something even better without ever leaving my home.
Peer Pressure
I encourage you to sign up for this free website. It's like getting a free ride to Housekeeping University. Isn't that what we all want, in the end?
I am username LilSiouxsieHomemaker, and I'll be glad to help you freeze all those vegetables you bought that you realized you didn't need.
By the way, to freeze mushrooms, you need to blanche them first so they are just cooked. Spread them evenly on a cookie sheet and freeze until they just turn solid so they don't clump up and freeze together in your Ziplock, then bag n' tag. I save the water I use to cook them in and use it as a base for broth and soup. It's amazing.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Tupperware Stains: The Bane of My Existence
You Say Tomato...
Okay, so the title of this blog is going a little overboard. It's not like I go to bed at night with my face streaked with tears wondering why they can't make revolutionary Tupperware that resists even the strongest of tomato sauces, but I do get extremely frustrated when all my glasses and plates are sparkling clean while my plastic food containers look like I just picked them out of the garbage.
I've been doing my dishes by hand ever since my dishwasher broke (apparently, it gets hot enough to melt the plastic water jet shut, which of course is counter-productive), and it puts me up close and personal with blotchy Tupperware that, regardless of how long I scrub, never looks clean. Which of course convinces me that it isn't clean. So, I did what every other beginner-housewife would do: I Googled it.
LycoPain In The Ass
The stains are caused by lycopene, the chemical that gives tomatoes their juicy red hue. Unfortunately, this translates to rust-colored stains on your plastic containers. I won't get into the advanced chemistry of lycopene, partially because it's boring and partially because I don't understand it, but I will say that it is very clingy and bonds to nearly everything (the website made mention of an abundance of electrons and double bonds). Hence, its powerful ability to stain. The more concentrated your tomato product (for instance, ketchup versus a can of diced tomatoes), the more lycopene it has, and the more likely it will be to stain your beautiful Tupperware.
But look on the bright side. Lycopene is a powerful antioxidant, so if you're staining Tupperware, at least you know you're getting a good lot of it.
What To Do, What To Do
I haven't tried any of the following remedies, as I just discovered them myself, so I make no claims in regard to their effectiveness. However, I can assure you that I will try many if not all of them, and will report back (eventually) to tell you which one I found most effective. I'm sharing them all here so you can give them a try, too.
Lemon Juice. Add a squirt of lemon juice to warm water and use a clean cloth to scrub at the stains. Also, you can apply a half of a lemon (or a wedge, or a slice from your martini garnish) directly to the stain.
Salt. Use a little bit of salt on a clean, moist cloth and scrub at the stains. The salt works as a mild abrasive with little chance of it scratching your plastic container. I don't really care about scratches, because I generally eat leftovers out of mine and I'm sure my fork does enough scratching.
Bleach. Soak the Tupperware in bleach to kill the lycopene. I personally am not very comfortable with this, as I reserve my use of bleach for the bathroom and it would seem like I'm cross-contaminating my "incomings" with my "outgoings."
Sunlight - The Natural Alternative to Bleach. Leave your food container in the sun for a few hours to break up the stain. This wouldn't work too well for nocturnal housewives like us, for two reasons: There's no sun at night, and ew... we might get a tan if we decided to keep our Tupperware company.
Tang - Not Just for Astronauts. Put one scoop of Tang powder into the container with very hot tap water, and let it sit. Helpful if you have so much Tang you don't know what to do with it all. Maybe you can even drink it once it cools off, so your Tang doesn't die in vain.
Be Brave, Betty Crocker
If you have any tips, or have tried any of the remedies mentioned above, leave a comment and help out your disgruntled sisters.
Okay, so the title of this blog is going a little overboard. It's not like I go to bed at night with my face streaked with tears wondering why they can't make revolutionary Tupperware that resists even the strongest of tomato sauces, but I do get extremely frustrated when all my glasses and plates are sparkling clean while my plastic food containers look like I just picked them out of the garbage.
I've been doing my dishes by hand ever since my dishwasher broke (apparently, it gets hot enough to melt the plastic water jet shut, which of course is counter-productive), and it puts me up close and personal with blotchy Tupperware that, regardless of how long I scrub, never looks clean. Which of course convinces me that it isn't clean. So, I did what every other beginner-housewife would do: I Googled it.
LycoPain In The Ass
The stains are caused by lycopene, the chemical that gives tomatoes their juicy red hue. Unfortunately, this translates to rust-colored stains on your plastic containers. I won't get into the advanced chemistry of lycopene, partially because it's boring and partially because I don't understand it, but I will say that it is very clingy and bonds to nearly everything (the website made mention of an abundance of electrons and double bonds). Hence, its powerful ability to stain. The more concentrated your tomato product (for instance, ketchup versus a can of diced tomatoes), the more lycopene it has, and the more likely it will be to stain your beautiful Tupperware.
But look on the bright side. Lycopene is a powerful antioxidant, so if you're staining Tupperware, at least you know you're getting a good lot of it.
What To Do, What To Do
I haven't tried any of the following remedies, as I just discovered them myself, so I make no claims in regard to their effectiveness. However, I can assure you that I will try many if not all of them, and will report back (eventually) to tell you which one I found most effective. I'm sharing them all here so you can give them a try, too.
Lemon Juice. Add a squirt of lemon juice to warm water and use a clean cloth to scrub at the stains. Also, you can apply a half of a lemon (or a wedge, or a slice from your martini garnish) directly to the stain.
Salt. Use a little bit of salt on a clean, moist cloth and scrub at the stains. The salt works as a mild abrasive with little chance of it scratching your plastic container. I don't really care about scratches, because I generally eat leftovers out of mine and I'm sure my fork does enough scratching.
Bleach. Soak the Tupperware in bleach to kill the lycopene. I personally am not very comfortable with this, as I reserve my use of bleach for the bathroom and it would seem like I'm cross-contaminating my "incomings" with my "outgoings."
Sunlight - The Natural Alternative to Bleach. Leave your food container in the sun for a few hours to break up the stain. This wouldn't work too well for nocturnal housewives like us, for two reasons: There's no sun at night, and ew... we might get a tan if we decided to keep our Tupperware company.
Tang - Not Just for Astronauts. Put one scoop of Tang powder into the container with very hot tap water, and let it sit. Helpful if you have so much Tang you don't know what to do with it all. Maybe you can even drink it once it cools off, so your Tang doesn't die in vain.
Be Brave, Betty Crocker
If you have any tips, or have tried any of the remedies mentioned above, leave a comment and help out your disgruntled sisters.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Real Soup, Fake Recipe
Everyone Loves Soup
I don't like to go out to dinner. The pleasure of having someone cook, serve and clean without me ever having to peek into a kitchen is greatly overshadowed by my fear of how the food is prepared and by whom. It's actually quite fortuitous that I have this preference, because we save a lot of money in our entertainment fund.
I do have a problem, though. I love soup, and I don't mean that aluminum-flavored, over-salted mess that comes in a can (even worse if it's the kind you have to add water to). My real problem is that I don't make soup a lot, and when I do, it's just a conglomeration of whatever is in my freezer that I need to get rid of. If I want decent soup, I have to go to a restaurant and just pretend it isn't coming from a can or a bucket.
And then I discovered "copy-cat recipes." Yes, I'm sure I'm decades behind the trend of the copy-cat recipe, which brings the flavors of our favorite restaurants home, but I'm still pretty new to this "caring about cooking" business, so I'll jump that sinking ship.
Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana, but I call the copy-cat "Suppa Tuscana"
The Olive Garden makes my favorite soup of all time, the Zuppa Toscana, a creamy and spicy blend of sausage, potatoes, bacon... and now I'm drooling. So here's the recipe.
1 lb spicy Italian sausage
1/2 lb smoked bacon, chopped
1 qt water
(2) 14.5 oz cans chicken broth
2 large russet potatoes, sliced (cleaned, with skin on)
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cups chopped kale or Swiss chard
1 cup heavy whipping cream
salt and pepper to taste
1) In a skillet over medium-high heat, brown your sausage, making sure it ends up pretty crumbly. Drain it and set it aside.
2) Brown the chopped bacon over medium-high heat, also; drain it, and set it aside.
3) Place the water, broth, potatoes, garlic and onionin a pot, and simmer over medium heat until the potatoes are tender.
4) Add the sausage and bacon to the pot, and simmer for 10 minutes.
5) Add the kale and cream to the pot, season to your liking with the salt and pepper, then serve after heated through. Serve and enjoy!
What I did
I had trouble with the sausage, because apparently the only spicy Italian sausage that is sold in bulk at my local grocery store is colored with paprika, and the last thing I wanted was red Suppa Tuscana. I ended up buying a two and a half pound package of sausage links that were spicy but didn't include paprika. After guessing how many sausages would be in one pound, I sliced them open, ripped off the relatively disconcerting intestinal casing, and made do.
Also, my grocery store doesn't have Swiss chard. Or kale. That irritated me, because I'm fairly certain that kale has magical properties. Okay, maybe not, but it does make me happy. So, I ended up using spinach, which I put into the soup right before serving it so it didn't end up so wilted it was unrecognizable.
The original copy-cat recipe called for cubed potatoes, but the last time I had the real Zuppa Toscana, it had sliced potatoes. So, I changed that. And I used three potatoes, because the ones I got a hold of were pretty small.
After spicing it liberally, I was seriously surprised at how perfect this recipe turned out. My fiancé was very pleased with his dinner, and what will be his lunch tomorrow, and I ate so many bowls that I was afraid to burp lest it end up on my shirt.
Don't fear the soup
This very simple recipe has sort of elevated my interest in soup from "casual observer" to "obsessed practitioner." I feel more encouraged to try other soups now, which is helpful because my recipe book is bursting with soups I want to try but didn't have the motivation to make. I feel encouraged to make them now.
One more soup I don't have to leave the house for...
I don't like to go out to dinner. The pleasure of having someone cook, serve and clean without me ever having to peek into a kitchen is greatly overshadowed by my fear of how the food is prepared and by whom. It's actually quite fortuitous that I have this preference, because we save a lot of money in our entertainment fund.
I do have a problem, though. I love soup, and I don't mean that aluminum-flavored, over-salted mess that comes in a can (even worse if it's the kind you have to add water to). My real problem is that I don't make soup a lot, and when I do, it's just a conglomeration of whatever is in my freezer that I need to get rid of. If I want decent soup, I have to go to a restaurant and just pretend it isn't coming from a can or a bucket.
And then I discovered "copy-cat recipes." Yes, I'm sure I'm decades behind the trend of the copy-cat recipe, which brings the flavors of our favorite restaurants home, but I'm still pretty new to this "caring about cooking" business, so I'll jump that sinking ship.
Olive Garden's Zuppa Toscana, but I call the copy-cat "Suppa Tuscana"
The Olive Garden makes my favorite soup of all time, the Zuppa Toscana, a creamy and spicy blend of sausage, potatoes, bacon... and now I'm drooling. So here's the recipe.
1 lb spicy Italian sausage
1/2 lb smoked bacon, chopped
1 qt water
(2) 14.5 oz cans chicken broth
2 large russet potatoes, sliced (cleaned, with skin on)
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
2 cups chopped kale or Swiss chard
1 cup heavy whipping cream
salt and pepper to taste
1) In a skillet over medium-high heat, brown your sausage, making sure it ends up pretty crumbly. Drain it and set it aside.
2) Brown the chopped bacon over medium-high heat, also; drain it, and set it aside.
3) Place the water, broth, potatoes, garlic and onionin a pot, and simmer over medium heat until the potatoes are tender.
4) Add the sausage and bacon to the pot, and simmer for 10 minutes.
5) Add the kale and cream to the pot, season to your liking with the salt and pepper, then serve after heated through. Serve and enjoy!
What I did
I had trouble with the sausage, because apparently the only spicy Italian sausage that is sold in bulk at my local grocery store is colored with paprika, and the last thing I wanted was red Suppa Tuscana. I ended up buying a two and a half pound package of sausage links that were spicy but didn't include paprika. After guessing how many sausages would be in one pound, I sliced them open, ripped off the relatively disconcerting intestinal casing, and made do.
Also, my grocery store doesn't have Swiss chard. Or kale. That irritated me, because I'm fairly certain that kale has magical properties. Okay, maybe not, but it does make me happy. So, I ended up using spinach, which I put into the soup right before serving it so it didn't end up so wilted it was unrecognizable.
The original copy-cat recipe called for cubed potatoes, but the last time I had the real Zuppa Toscana, it had sliced potatoes. So, I changed that. And I used three potatoes, because the ones I got a hold of were pretty small.
After spicing it liberally, I was seriously surprised at how perfect this recipe turned out. My fiancé was very pleased with his dinner, and what will be his lunch tomorrow, and I ate so many bowls that I was afraid to burp lest it end up on my shirt.
Don't fear the soup
This very simple recipe has sort of elevated my interest in soup from "casual observer" to "obsessed practitioner." I feel more encouraged to try other soups now, which is helpful because my recipe book is bursting with soups I want to try but didn't have the motivation to make. I feel encouraged to make them now.
One more soup I don't have to leave the house for...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
