I was at Wallyland last week picking up a few things for DH's lunch. (He finally did the math on going out to lunch every day.) I was in the produce department, frisking roma tomatoes, I think.
Here in East Cupcake, it's common for stores to have big bins of pinto beans. Wally has a big bin of them, bigger than a garden tub, maybe the size of a small spa. It's tempting to walk by and sink your hand into that sea of beans.
I heard giggling the last time I was by the sea o' beans. I looked up. Two little girls, somewhere in between six and ten, were bellied up to the side of the bin, laughing like crazy. One leaned waaayyyy out over the bin. In the sea of beans was a shallow impression, the exact size of a little girl's head. She'd been pinto diving.
"You girls knock that off. That's someone's supper!" I said, in a stern, frowny voice. They got scared looks on their faces and vanished.
It was hard to keep a straight face.
Speaking of stern frowniness, I chose this as my Ravelry ravatar last week when it dawned on me that it's pretty close to election time. I found it by googling Obama and stupid. I decided it was time to quit pretending that everything was going to be ok if he was elected, that I could cope.
Fact is, I'm not so sure. DH and I talk about it. DD and I talked about it. At 10:30 last night, my BFF since HIGH SCHOOL called to check on my religious salvation and the state of my eternal soul, because she's afraid of what's going to happen if he does, or does not, get elected. I've known her for 30 years, and this is the first time we've ever discussed voting. Weird.
This ravatar brings out the best and worst of people. A lot of people will let me know they are ROFLMAO when they see it. Other people get MAD. I could say "I like chocolate" and someone would take me to task.
That's kind of what is happening. Someone was telling me how brilliant Obama was, and he surrounded himself with all these wonderful people to fill him in on areas where he lacked the expertise, and that synergy was fabulous. I told her that line of thinking was like putting a dog turd in a box of doughnuts. Doesn't make the dog turd or the doughnuts better, just kinda ruins everyone's day. No one liked that. But I am nice, I am not mean, or snarky. I just question an argument and people go OFF.
The most peculiar posts were people who took me to task for my viewpoint. I've answered some. The weird ones are from the Welsh. And the Irish. Quite vocal about how wrong I am. I finally got mad and said "I don't pretend my opinion counts in Irish politics." And no one backed me. I think I was yesterday's most hated on the thread.
This kind of fits my mood:
Cuz there ain't nothin meaner than a weiner from Pasadena.
It's fall. DH asked me to make these. If I am going to make one batch, I might as well do two, and freeze a bunch. Lucky me, they printed the recipe in the Chicago Sun Times:
DOUGH 3/4 cup water (110 degrees) 1/2 cup sweetened condensed milk 1/4 cup vegetable oil 2 tablespoons sugar 1 large egg 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 2 packages rapid-rise or instant yeast 1 teaspoon salt
FILLING 3 tablesppons unsalted butter (with 2 tablespoons melted) 1 1/2 pounds 90 percent lean ground beef 1 large onion, chopped fine 1/2 small head cabbage, cored and chopped (about three cups) Salt and pepper 8 slices deli American cheese
Note: This filling is barely seasoned. Add up to a T. of herbs, or a t. of seasoning salt, or both, if you'd like.
1. For the dough: Lightly grease a large bowl with cooking spray. Mix the water, condensed milk, oil, sugar, and egg in a large measuring cup. Mix the flour, yeast and salt in the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with dough hook. With the mixer on low, add the water mixture. After the dough comes together, increase speed to medium and mix until shiny and smooth, 4 to 6 minutes. Turn the dough out on to a heavily floured work surface, shape in to a ball, and place in the greased bowl. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let rest in a warm place until doubled in size, about 1 hour.
2. For the filling: Melt 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the beef and cook until just beginning to brown, about 6 minutes, breaking up any large clumps. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the beef to a paper-towel-lined plate. Pour off all but two tablespoon of fat from the pan. Add the cabbage and toss until just beginning to wilt, 2 to 4 minutes. Return the beef to the pan. Season with salt and pepper.
3. Assembly and Baking: Adjust oven racks to upper-middle and lower-middle positions and heat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat two baking sheets with cooking spray. Divide the dough into 8 equal pieces. Roll each piece into 7-inch circles. Place one dough round into a deep cereal bowl and top with one slice of cheese. Spoon 3/4 cup of filling over the cheese and pinch the edges of the dough together to form at bun. Transfer the bun, seam-side down, to a prepared baking sheet. Repeat with the remaining dough, cheese and filling, placing four buns on each sheet. Cover the buns with plastic wrap and let rise until puffed, about 20 minutes. Bake the buns until golden brown, about 20 minutes, switching and rotating the baking sheets halfway through the baking time. Brush the buns with the remaining melted butter and serve.
When I went to see my little brother last spring, I was flabbergasted to learn that he loves to go out for pancakes on Sunday mornings. When I was a kid, my dad liked to make pancakes for my older brother and me on Saturday mornings. Trouble was, they were Aunt Jemima Buckwheat pancakes, and to a kid who liked Super Sugar Crisp cereal, just not very good. Saturdays were hellish for me, because I had to clean my plate.
So I was pretty puzzled about little bro's love of pancakes. I rustled together a few Bisquick Shake & Pours (and real Vermont maple syrup) when I mailed his Halloween costume last week. He recieved his box Monday, and wrote
"Hey the Bisquick sucks,"
to which I wrote "But you adore pancakes, and I don't understand why!"
"Dad used to take me to Village Inn."
Ohhh. Well, crap. Hope he enjoys being King Tut. There's still a high probability of pancakes after someone's party.
I had a leftover Bisquick to use, so today was pancake day at my house. I normally make Oster Blender recipe Sour Milk Pancakes, because they are nothing like Aunt Jemima and her nasty buckwheat. This morning, I threw sausage links on to brown, shook and poured the pancakes, and sauteed pears in butter with a tablespoon of brown sugar and a teeny bit of Penzey's Baking Spice.
You'd think I could cook. It was delish.
On the knitting front, this is one of my challenges of the month:
We moved into a neighborhood that decorates for Halloween, so I "have to" participate. I think I need to construct a RHSS web and silk for these two. I love them.
So, since December, when I quit smoking, til NOW, I have put on a few extra pounds. That's actually a lie, because a few is like, 5. So this weekend, I went to Austin to an exercise workshop. I took a T-Tapp workout with Kirsten. That's serious work. I've also been getting up and walking with DH. First thing, and after dinner on most days-I know we've covered at least 10 miles a week, and we are working on the 3rd week. Gosh, I hope it helps.
I have a sneaking suspicion that a few of my pounds may be linked to my new adventures in hyperthyroidism. The doc put me on meds that took my TSH from .19 to 3.8. THAT's a big swing. We gotta talk about THAT.
Since I had to drive 130 miles, I drove another 10, and went to Ikea. Look at what I found! It's a Spoka nightlight. I am in LERVE! DH rolled his eyes, but blah blah blah.
Joan blogged about oddball portents last week. I HOPE Spoka's a harbinger. Something happened today that made me think maybe so.
In other news, my little brother and I talked last week, and made tentative plans to go to fat camp in the spring. I asked DH if he wanted to go drink broth, do yoga, and do some of the other things advertised. He will only go if there is beer involved. And he doesn't want the poop coach.
It bothers me that this guy is barely American, born here, educated overseas, was the victim of prejudice in Hawaii. OMG, freaking racially charged Ala Moana. Trust me, THAT's much different than Mississippi or Texas.
Why do I think he's barely American? There's his younger brother in Kenya, and his older brother in China, and don't forget the one in England. And there seems to be another one in Kenya.... it looks like Daddy Obama's specialty was women. Hit and quit it. But it's not that Daddy was a rogue, it's that it gives me a sense of rootlessness, of non-commitment. A lot of political figures have questionable family members, I am just used to them living in the same country, and meeting each other early on.
It says superficial attachment to me. And if a person is superficially attached to his family, is it possible that they could be superficially attached to a nation? Even tho they stood way up in the political food chain?