Cheese Fondue

Yesterday we enjoyed a Fondue party with some friends. I remembered I had a recipe for a beer cheese soup that was too damned thick to be soup, but works great as a dippin' sauce.

It was a hit and I was asked to share the secret, so here it is for everyone!

 Ingredients

• 3/4 cup butter
• 1/2 cup diced celery
• 1/2 cup diced carrots
• 1/2 cup diced onion
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon ground dry mustard
• 1 (14.5 ounce) can chicken broth
• 5 ounces shredded Cheddar cheese
• 5 ounces shredded Monterey Jack cheese
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
• 1 (12 fluid ounce) can or bottle beer

Directions

1. In a large saucepan over medium high heat, melt butter. Cook celery, carrots and onion in butter until onion is translucent. Stir in flour and mustard to coat vegetables. Pour in chicken broth and simmer until slightly thickened. Puree mixture in a blender or food processor or using an immersion blender. Return to pot.
2. When pureed mixture is hot, begin to stir in Cheddar, Monterey Jack and Parmesan, a little at a time, alternately with the beer, until all is fully incorporated and melted. Serve at once.

 I didn't blend the veggie mix, it's cooked down enough to be squishy and soft, so if you get some on your dippin' bread it's no big deal. It's one less step and less clean-up later. We transported the mix to the party, reheated it right in the fondue pot and added the cheese and beer then.  It fed 6 adults and 3 kids pretty well. 

Great with apples!
 
 
 

7 Days of Uncomfortable Snuggling

Anyone bother watching that 7 Days of Sex show on Lifetime last night?

We did, because we're suckers for awful television. And while the premise is decent, the execution was pretty terrible.

The premise (if you don't feel like clicking the link) is that couples that are having relationship problems pledge to have sex every day for a week straight. They figure that the forced intimacy will rekindle their relationship and revive their love.  I understand the idea behind this, of course. When you don't "do it" for more than a week or so you can get very crabby and grumpy and, after you have sex it kinda hits the reset button and you reconnect and makes everything better.

But here's the thing... when you know the effect having/not having sex can have on you, you don't let it go that long. These couples have grown so distant that they can't even remember the last time they made love or even wanted to. I've been in a relationship that got that bad, and there were bigger issues at hand than just not having sex. If me and my ex tried doing it for a week straight a) we never woulda made it for a whole week, b) yeah, after a week we would've felt connected and happy and all that, cuz that's what sex does, (endorphins and all). But 3 months later, when we haven't had sex in 6 weeks, we'd be back to square one. I'd love to see a "where are they now" for these folks.

Another issue I had with this show is the way these folks went about this undertaking. These people haven't had sex in how long and they try to jump right into it hardcore right out of the box. The one couple we saw last night tried experimenting with hot wax the first night. Why not start slow, idiots? Knock some dust off it first. Work out some of the kinks (no pun intended). You can't just run a marathon without doing some stretching. Then they move on to feathers and vibrators and crotchless body stockings. Either they really didn't have a problem to begin with, or they're really overcompensating.

I think a better idea would be to enlist a professional therapist to slowly up the intimacy/kinky levels while helping them deal with the surrounding issues that the weeks worth of loving inevitably brings up.  Have them start with just touching and kissing and reconnecting. Not the willy-nilly pouring of burning hot candle wax on everything.

Anyway, check it out if you wanna. You can laugh at their idiotic expense and shudder at the creep factor that comes from taping an average gross couple in the afterglow of scheduled lovemaking.

Pulled Pork, Take 1

Since Lulu's Mexican closed we've been in dire need of an excellent pulled pork recipe.
Being unemployed (have I mentioned that yet? No? I got laid off. Moving on.) I figured a good thing to do with my time is to try to make a reasonable replacement for it.
Here's the recipe for my first attempt. I got it from the Fix-It & Forget-It Cookbook.

3 lbs pork, cubed (I bought three 1lb packs of "pork" from Shoprite. No specific cut was given and I didn't ask. It was the cheapest way. Good color and marbling. Came out fine. Whew!)
2 cups chopped onions
3 green peppers, chopped
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup vinegar (I used apple cider vinegar, it's what I use in my taco mix)
6 oz can tomato paste
1 1/2 Tbsp. chili powder
1 tsp. dry mustard
2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
2 tsp. salt

Throw everything in a slow cooker on Hi for 8 hours. Mix it around now and again. After 8 hours, shred the pork that hasn't already fallen apart on it's own. Mix it around some more & serve.

This is a pretty good jumping off point, but I think it really needs some more Oomph. The flavor is good, just kinda flat. I'm thinking more vinegar? Maybe some molasses? Use smoked pork?
My wife cut through the hassle and suggested throwing in some store bought BBQ sauce towards the end. It'll make the liquidy sauce a bit thicker and add some smokiness and depth to it. So next time we'll try that.

If you try it at home and decide to tinker with the recipe please let me know how it turns out!! There's still work to do, people!

Hey, NyQuil Driver

Having a 2 year old is like a fever dream you can't wake up from.

A man walks into a bar....

When I get a cold, I suffer through the coughing-sniffling-sneezing-aching-stuffy-head rather than put up with the dreams. NyQuil lets you sleep but it doesn't let you sleep.

A man... A man walks into.... 

It's just a light teasing sleep. No REM to be found, just that vague, "Was I sleeping? Have I slept?" kinda feeling. Seconds spread to hours. Phrases and snippets of songs repeat over and over.

A man walks into a bar... a man... a man walks into a bar... a man walks... the bartender says... a man... "hey, are you a piece of string?" a man...

You can try to change the course of your dream...

Our whole universe was in a hot dense state, til 40 million years ago expansion started... Wait!

The bartender says, "Are you... hey...."

But it never lasts for long.

Minutes spread to eons...

Math, science, history, unraveling the mystery....

But it's still only 10:30 and you just rolled over to try to sleep.

"Are you a piece of string?"

Now spend an hour in a car with a 2 year old who wants to hear Barbara Ann over and over and over. 

Bah bah bah bah bahbahran!

And then have her try to tell you a knock knock joke.

Knock-knock-who's-there? Icy!

You might as well Robodoze and at least not be responsible for deliberately driving into oncoming traffic.

...All started with a big bang! BANG!!

ICY YOU!!


"No, I'm a frayed knot."

Things you say when you're a parent.

"Oh that's a diaper for a turtle."

Ce Sac N'est Pas Un Joue

I'm a bit of a musical hummingbird. I'll bounce from channel to channel on my Sirius radio all day if I get the chance. Or I'll sit on one station for hours. But chances are good, unless it's oldies it's stuff no one else likes. I must admit, I'm a bit of a hipster that way. I like weird things until other people like them. Then they suck
Recently I've been hanging out in Espace Musique which is a great French music station. It's hard to describe, but it's very melodious, kinda poppy, kinda retro, kinda like stuff you'd hear in hip indie movies. But the best thing about it is that it's not in English. No insipid lyrics to piss me off or get stuck in my head. (Other than Sukiyaki, I think most foreign language songs are pretty hard to "ear-worm")
But today I found myself half wishing I knew more than every 8th word or so.  
I wish I'd paid attention in French Class.  I thought.... but wait... that's not right... I wish I learned anything in my French Class.

When I was about 10 or 11 I decided that I really liked French stuff. Don't ask me why. I was just a young silly Francophile. I even went to a summer camp at the local community college to learn French stuff. We sang songs "Napoléon avait cinq cent soldats..." ate Nutella and learned to count to ten.

In middle school we had to take Spanish. I didn't like Spanish and our teacher looked like a naugahyde chew toy with a blond wig. But I knew that in high school I'd be able to return to my true Romance Language love.

My high school had Spanish, Latin and French classes with a teacher designated for each. Our French teacher was Madame Goldberg. She was the only Jewish teacher (that I knew of) in my very Irish Catholic school. Her parents had fled France with her to come to America before the Nazi's moved in. She was a sweet old lady who loved me from the moment I told her that I'd "studied" French before and even knew my French name was Guillaume.
She was also battier than a vampire convention.
The other kids in my class picked up on this weakness instantly and set about exploiting the living hell out of it. No one even attempted to speak the recitations properly. An entire room full of kids speaking monotone Jersey French. It was awful. Everyone took to calling her M'Damn. We'd say "I have to go to M'Damn class now." 
One girl in particular was the evil ring-leader of disrespect and awfulness. I forget her real name now (and I'm too lazy to go get my yearbook) but she'd already failed the class her Freshman year and was retaking it as a Sophomore, putting her ahead of the rest of the class and elevating her to a position of power simply based on her seniority. I'm pretty certain she's the first person I ever met that I would classify as an "Effing C."
Pure. Evil.
She would derail every class. "M'Damn, let's sing a song! M'Damn, I don't get it! M'Damn! M'Damn! M'Damn!" During tests she'd leave her book open in her bag next to her desk and copy answers. When that stopped working and M'Damn had us put our bags in the back of the room her pen would "run out of ink" and she'd go back to her bag every two minutes. When that stopped working she'd just cry.
Speaking of crying, one day M'Damn broke down in front of the class talking about how hard it was that everyone she grew up with in France had died in the Hollocaust!!! The Effing C spent the next few weeks asking inane questions about the war in hopes of getting a repeat performance and maybe a reprieve from learning.
If I remember correctly she finally got caught cheating by writing the answers on her thighs just above the hem of her skirt. How that was what did it, I'll never know.  She cried a lot and pleaded, but, in a moment of clarity Madam booted her out of the class.
One day towards the end of my second year,  a fella in another class somehow got his hands on M'Damn's grade book. He changed his grades and those of a few of his friends. He got caught. To hear him tell the story he was then "Asked to leave the school, under a cloud." M'Damn knew then she had no control over her class. I believe she was asked to leave, just behind the cloud.

After forcing myself through 2 years of not learning French, I told my mom I didn't want to take it any more. She tried to give me this line about how "Some colleges expect you to take 3 years of a language."
"Well, I'm not going to those colleges." Was my reply. It seemed to work.
That next year there was a new French teacher. And all the students who were expected to know 2 years worth of conjugation going into French 3 suddenly found themselves lost in a sea of je/tu/vous/nous.

So, I still don't know any useful French, but I know enough to enjoy my new favorite radio station. Good enough for me.

In my life, I've loved them all.

At least once a week my wife and I have an urge. A desire we can never fulfill. This usually leads to wailing and sorrow and resorting to a less satisfying alternative. Drizzly cloudy days like today stir my desire even more. But it's all for naught.
We really miss the Pufferbelly.
The Pufferbelly was a bar/restaurant not too far from where we live. It was dark and noisy and had an awesome salad bar. The chicken pot pie was home made and meals came with a slice of spiced apple. She, being a local girl, had gone there with her folks as a kid and we brought our daughter there when she was only days old.
Despite having a loyal clientele and always being moderately busy, the Pufferbelly closed a little more than a year ago leaving us with no good local options for pub food that we can bring a kid to.
There's a Walgreen's on the spot now. We'll never shop there and I give the place the bird when I drive by.

On my way to work from the babysitters there was a closed McDonald's.  About a year ago someone started doing some work renovating the place and it reopened as Good2Go.  They were a "healthy" fast food place that used fresh chicken and beef, cooked to order, hand made fries and the best breakfast sandwich ever... pork roll, egg & cheese on pretzel bread. Gah! So good!
But their location wasn't great, I'd imagine the rent was atrocious, and they were never very busy. They closed within 6 months.

When I worked in the chemical lawn maintenance industry I found a little gelato place next to an Acme. They were called Dolce Crema. Their banana gelato was the most delicious frozen treat ever. It was frozen creamy über-banana. Even though they were a 45 minute drive away, they became a destination spot. We got to know the owner and always had fun visiting... until they closed.

We try to visit my folks every couple weeks. For a while we had a routine where, 15 minutes away, we'd call Lulu's Mexican and place our order for pulled pork quesadillas and chips and guacamole. We'd pick it up just before we got to my parents and start our visit with a wonderful feast. We knew the end was near when the owner got rid of his employees, raised his prices a bit and extended his hours. Every week we waited for the shoe to drop... and it did. One day he just didn't open. Skipped out on his rent and his loyal biweekly customers. Chipotle and Baja Fresh are poor substitutes.

Last night I took the family to Pizza Hut. While they weren't as awful as I recall from my childhood, they were not spectacular. For most of our meal we were the only diners in the joint. The waitstaff was inattentive. And yet, since despite spreading their meh pizza and halfway decent bread sticks (and terribly barren salad bar) from coast to coast they will survive forever.

Go enjoy something locally owned today. Tip them well and enjoy your meal... they won't be around for long.