Tonight we tested another recipe for COOK'S ILLUSTRATED. It was Thai style Chicken with Basil, or Gia Pad Grapaw. This is one of my favorite dishes I was excited about testing it. Marty was going to cook it and I was to buy the ingredients we didn't have.
This dish can be mild or very hot depending on the chiles/peppers used. I was not able to buy Thai chiles and substituted Serrano chiles (as the recipe suggested). I bought one extra in case one was bad. This dish is mainly chopped white chicken meat, basil, chiles, fish sauce, oyster sauce, garlic, and shallots.
Marty prepped everything and started stir frying it. We realized we hadn't started the rice. Well, we skipped the rice because we usually don't eat much rice with it anyway. It smelled wonderful. Nothing smells quite like fresh basil cooking. He plated it, and served it.
Well, let us say hot. The dish is to have a bite, but this was too hot. I had bought 3 chiles, one as an extra. He put them all in. Hot. After I picked out a lot of chiles, the dish tasted great. This is one we will make again.
Marty will fill out the survey tonight. And then next week Minestrone soup.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
NO WEDINGS, NO FOOD, NO FUN
Since the first part of March one thing or another has been wrong with my body. Flu, allergies, respiratory, joint pain, tummy. Sunday and Monday Marty and I both had tummy issues. It started just after the brunch on Sunday with friends. Were we struck down by a virus at the exact same time, was there a problem with the food? I am betting the food.
What ever it was, I was down for the count all Monday. I called in sick to the County and made a home on the couch. Marty being a manly man was working from home, but not thrilled to be up. I'll tell you how sick I was, no food. Me the not hungry, but I'll eat anyway, nothing. Well, I'll take that back. Marty tried to serve me chicken noodle soup for supper. I ate maybe four spoon fulls and stopped. Queasy. I am sick of being sick.
Today I am up and moving around. Little Brother is coming Thursday. I declared myself well and back to getting ready for company.
What ever it was, I was down for the count all Monday. I called in sick to the County and made a home on the couch. Marty being a manly man was working from home, but not thrilled to be up. I'll tell you how sick I was, no food. Me the not hungry, but I'll eat anyway, nothing. Well, I'll take that back. Marty tried to serve me chicken noodle soup for supper. I ate maybe four spoon fulls and stopped. Queasy. I am sick of being sick.
Today I am up and moving around. Little Brother is coming Thursday. I declared myself well and back to getting ready for company.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
YEAH, COOLNESS HAS ARRIVED
It is almost 11:30pm and it has FINALLY dropped to 67 degrees! The fog must be in. Something wonderful has brought us coolness. Down comforter might be needed tonight. Happy, happy dance.
HOT! HOT! and HOTTER!
The Bay Area is having a little heat wave. Yesterday in Oakland it was 90 ( guess who was making glass and dying in the heat) and on the other side of the tunnel over 100, some places as high as 108. Today it is hotter. Thank goodness we have AC. But guess which side of the tunnel our church is on.
You are correct, the hot side. And the church is NOT air conditioned. Now this would have been a good Sunday and a smart Sunday to skip church. Well we did that last Sunday and won't be going next Sunday. Really needed to go today. Plus our Wine and Dine group was meeting after church for lunch. This is a church group, so it would have been awkward meeting after church.
When we arrived it was in the low 90s at 10:00. The sanctuary was not unbearable, but was uncomfortable. Let us say not a dry thread on me after the service. And the hair, not a pretty picture. Melted cotton candy. When we came out, 102.
We went to lunch just down the street. Restaurants always have AC don't they? Well theirs wasn't on when we arrived. About an hour later it came on, by then it was too late. I was wilted. We had fun though. Some of us, men and women, are just a little bitchy and catty. A good time was had by all.
As we drove home we watched the temperature slowly drop from 108 to 92 as we came out of the tunnel. And what did I do when we got home. Iron. Yes, more heat. It had to be done. But I was in AC, on the lower level, with a fan blowing on me. Not too bad.
Marty just told me it has dropped to 84. Maybe the fog is coming in. Can you tell I don't do heat?
You are correct, the hot side. And the church is NOT air conditioned. Now this would have been a good Sunday and a smart Sunday to skip church. Well we did that last Sunday and won't be going next Sunday. Really needed to go today. Plus our Wine and Dine group was meeting after church for lunch. This is a church group, so it would have been awkward meeting after church.
When we arrived it was in the low 90s at 10:00. The sanctuary was not unbearable, but was uncomfortable. Let us say not a dry thread on me after the service. And the hair, not a pretty picture. Melted cotton candy. When we came out, 102.
We went to lunch just down the street. Restaurants always have AC don't they? Well theirs wasn't on when we arrived. About an hour later it came on, by then it was too late. I was wilted. We had fun though. Some of us, men and women, are just a little bitchy and catty. A good time was had by all.
As we drove home we watched the temperature slowly drop from 108 to 92 as we came out of the tunnel. And what did I do when we got home. Iron. Yes, more heat. It had to be done. But I was in AC, on the lower level, with a fan blowing on me. Not too bad.
Marty just told me it has dropped to 84. Maybe the fog is coming in. Can you tell I don't do heat?
Friday, June 26, 2009
DOMESTIC GODDESS, almost
Yesterday and today I have been in domestic mode, not mood. I don't want to do the things I have done and still need to do. But someone has to and it is in my job description of Domestic Goddess.
So yesterday and today I cleaned out drawers in the guest room, put clean sheets on the bed, and worked on the closet. We have company coming. The guest room is my closet and my storage area. Remember we live in an old 2 bedroom house. Small closets. When guests come, I have to rearrange stuff so they don't live out of their suitcases. I am almost there. We have three large empty drawers now. And the closet has had things hung double and on multiple blouse hangers. Of course while they are here, I will be in the room anytime I dress, undress, need a jacket, purse, shoes, jewelery. It isn't bad sharing with family, really awkward if they aren't related.
I also did laundry, cleaned the bathroom, found a leak in the sink pipe (Marty fixed it when he got home) and changed the sheets on our bed. I then fixed a great cumin chicken for supper.
Today I continued in the Domestic Goddess mode. More laundry to do and to put up. We are either the dirtiest or cleanest people in the world. Always doing laundry. I don't mind washing and drying laundry, I don't mind putting up underwear, shirts, nightgowns, towels; but I hate matching socks. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Marty has navy and black socks that look just alike. You need bright sunlight to tell them apart. And then there is the problem of the vanishing mates. Where do they go? Why do they show up the week after you give up and throw the other sock away? Just asking.
Next Wednesday final cleaning and shopping. Little Brother and Ann arrive on Thursday morning.
So yesterday and today I cleaned out drawers in the guest room, put clean sheets on the bed, and worked on the closet. We have company coming. The guest room is my closet and my storage area. Remember we live in an old 2 bedroom house. Small closets. When guests come, I have to rearrange stuff so they don't live out of their suitcases. I am almost there. We have three large empty drawers now. And the closet has had things hung double and on multiple blouse hangers. Of course while they are here, I will be in the room anytime I dress, undress, need a jacket, purse, shoes, jewelery. It isn't bad sharing with family, really awkward if they aren't related.
I also did laundry, cleaned the bathroom, found a leak in the sink pipe (Marty fixed it when he got home) and changed the sheets on our bed. I then fixed a great cumin chicken for supper.
Today I continued in the Domestic Goddess mode. More laundry to do and to put up. We are either the dirtiest or cleanest people in the world. Always doing laundry. I don't mind washing and drying laundry, I don't mind putting up underwear, shirts, nightgowns, towels; but I hate matching socks. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Marty has navy and black socks that look just alike. You need bright sunlight to tell them apart. And then there is the problem of the vanishing mates. Where do they go? Why do they show up the week after you give up and throw the other sock away? Just asking.
Next Wednesday final cleaning and shopping. Little Brother and Ann arrive on Thursday morning.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I'VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE. . .
Only two weddings today, and they were at the opposite ends of the spectrum. One good and one so sad/bad. Let's get the bad out of the way first.
The couple was in their mid 20's. They did not talk in the elevator and stood apart. I asked my set of questions. Basically no rings, no vows, just get it over with. They stood at least 2 feet apart with their arms folded across their chests. They would not look at each other and just looked sad. When I asked do you take_____ as your wife, long wait, and then finally yeah. She was about as slow with her answer. I continued and then I was getting to the point of no return. They still weren't looking at each other, nor touching. Just glares over the other's head. One more sentence and they were legally married. I stopped and told them. "I have never done this before. I have to ask, are you sure you want to do this? Your license is good for 90 days, go think this over. I don't think you act like you want to even be here." I talked to them about thinking it over now and not in divorce court. They both said, "We are doing this now." So I married them. No kiss at the end, no hugs, they did not speak at all as we went back down in the elevator. This was so wrong and so sad.
But the next one was so cute. All the clerks were jazzed by it. The groom was born in 1925 and the bride in 1927. They had known each other as teenagers and married others. They had each been widowed in the last 6 or 7 years and had found each other again. They are living together and so in love. And their children told them to go get married. I loved it. They were still sharp and seemed fairly healthy. They were so in love, and this wedding had a kiss. Before, during, and after the wedding. They may be old but they aren't dead.
The couple was in their mid 20's. They did not talk in the elevator and stood apart. I asked my set of questions. Basically no rings, no vows, just get it over with. They stood at least 2 feet apart with their arms folded across their chests. They would not look at each other and just looked sad. When I asked do you take_____ as your wife, long wait, and then finally yeah. She was about as slow with her answer. I continued and then I was getting to the point of no return. They still weren't looking at each other, nor touching. Just glares over the other's head. One more sentence and they were legally married. I stopped and told them. "I have never done this before. I have to ask, are you sure you want to do this? Your license is good for 90 days, go think this over. I don't think you act like you want to even be here." I talked to them about thinking it over now and not in divorce court. They both said, "We are doing this now." So I married them. No kiss at the end, no hugs, they did not speak at all as we went back down in the elevator. This was so wrong and so sad.
But the next one was so cute. All the clerks were jazzed by it. The groom was born in 1925 and the bride in 1927. They had known each other as teenagers and married others. They had each been widowed in the last 6 or 7 years and had found each other again. They are living together and so in love. And their children told them to go get married. I loved it. They were still sharp and seemed fairly healthy. They were so in love, and this wedding had a kiss. Before, during, and after the wedding. They may be old but they aren't dead.
Monday, June 22, 2009
LOTS AND LOTS OF WEDDINGS
I think I did 7 weddings today. It started late but became fast and furious. I am sure we had the worst couple ever to marry today. They tied up the marriage desk, they assumed they didn't have to obey rules, and were just trouble.
I had just done a wedding and was on my way down to get the next couple. The hall was full of people. But no staff with them. They had just all come up. It turned out the couple bought a licence several days before. They found some errors on it and needed it corrected before they married. I corralled all the guests and sent them back downstairs; and took the couple into the Marriage Desk. When I came up with the next couple, two of the guests were still wandering the halls. And they were explaining to a staff person that the signs were wrong. They aren't. Three weddings later, the wedding couple is still in there redoing the license.
Remember, I have told you they give us the info. They enter it into the computer. They read it on the clerk's monitor before it is printed. They read it on paper before they sign it... no they don't read anything.
It seems a name was spelled wrong on the license, so M corrected it. Printed a new license to sign and gave it to the couple. They said the name is right, but place of birth is WV not WI. M prints again, gives it to them to sign and they then told her another correction to make. This time she made sure they told her all the errors, not one at a time. How stupid of the couple.
I married them. Then I had trouble getting them out of the room. Finally I have them headed to the elevator and they stop and pass out maps to the reception. I left them to M and went to get my next couple.
The other couples were nice, polite, and all but one in love. One was a definite arranged marriage. I hate those. The couple looked everywhere except at each other. They did not want to be there. But the guests were having a great time. The couple refused to kiss when asked to for pictures. Poor tradition bound kids.
I had just done a wedding and was on my way down to get the next couple. The hall was full of people. But no staff with them. They had just all come up. It turned out the couple bought a licence several days before. They found some errors on it and needed it corrected before they married. I corralled all the guests and sent them back downstairs; and took the couple into the Marriage Desk. When I came up with the next couple, two of the guests were still wandering the halls. And they were explaining to a staff person that the signs were wrong. They aren't. Three weddings later, the wedding couple is still in there redoing the license.
Remember, I have told you they give us the info. They enter it into the computer. They read it on the clerk's monitor before it is printed. They read it on paper before they sign it... no they don't read anything.
It seems a name was spelled wrong on the license, so M corrected it. Printed a new license to sign and gave it to the couple. They said the name is right, but place of birth is WV not WI. M prints again, gives it to them to sign and they then told her another correction to make. This time she made sure they told her all the errors, not one at a time. How stupid of the couple.
I married them. Then I had trouble getting them out of the room. Finally I have them headed to the elevator and they stop and pass out maps to the reception. I left them to M and went to get my next couple.
The other couples were nice, polite, and all but one in love. One was a definite arranged marriage. I hate those. The couple looked everywhere except at each other. They did not want to be there. But the guests were having a great time. The couple refused to kiss when asked to for pictures. Poor tradition bound kids.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
FATHER'S DAY
Father's Day is always mixed feelings for me. My blood father died when I was 10. And I still miss him. And then I have my Papa Jack. Lovely, kind, funny Papa Jack. A blessing for our family. Even my Daddy's family loved him.
Papa Jack is just about 7 years older than I am. There is about 20 years difference between Mother and him. I was in high school when he and Mother began dating. We did not know how old he was, nor he Mother's age until too late. They were in love. It was the talk of the town. The doctor's widow and the young kid eloped. My mother was a hot looking red head. Today she would be called a cougar. But that is another story.
Papa Jack became my stepfather for real. I adore my Papa Jack. My brother and he did not hit it off real well at first, two alpha males staking their territory. But over time that issue has worked out. Jack did not pull rank, but he was there as a father figure. He also was there with the check book for clothes and college expenses.
Papa Jack knocked on car widows and told me to go in the house. He decided I should frost my hair. He thought my skin tones were wrong to have such dark hair. He picked out dresses for me and bought them. He listened to me cry when romance when wrong. He also listened to a lot of temper tantrums.
Papa Jack also taught me how to paint and how to drive a riding lawn mower. When Marty bought a car with a stick shift, guess who saved my marriage and taught me to shift gears. ( never, ever try to learn a stick shift from your husband)
One Christmas I was shopping with him and saw something for Marty. I borrowed the money from Papa Jack. This was when we paid cash for everything. Credit cards were rare and used for emergencies. I didn't know until later, Marty had borrowed money from him the same day to buy my gift. We had the money, just not on us.
Marty asked Jack for permission to marry me. And my Papa gave me away at the wedding. As Mother's children had children, he became Papaw Jack.
He has changed through the years. He had a hot temper and has mellowed out over the years. He was helpless in the kitchen when they married yet now does a lot of the cooking for Mother and him. One of my favorite stories about Jack is when Mother went to help my sister when she had a baby. Mother cooked up lots of food for him including a ham. When Mother came home, everything was still in the fridge. She asked him why didn't you eat the ham? And Jack answered, " You didn't slice it."
One last story about Papa Jack. When they first married he worked for one of the funeral homes. He drove the ambulance and the hearse. He wasn't happy with this as a career choice. One day there was a funeral in the church across the street from our house. He helped carry the body in and then quit in the middle of the funeral. My mother asked why in the middle of a funeral. He said only quit when they need you.
Love you Papa Jack
Papa Jack is just about 7 years older than I am. There is about 20 years difference between Mother and him. I was in high school when he and Mother began dating. We did not know how old he was, nor he Mother's age until too late. They were in love. It was the talk of the town. The doctor's widow and the young kid eloped. My mother was a hot looking red head. Today she would be called a cougar. But that is another story.
Papa Jack became my stepfather for real. I adore my Papa Jack. My brother and he did not hit it off real well at first, two alpha males staking their territory. But over time that issue has worked out. Jack did not pull rank, but he was there as a father figure. He also was there with the check book for clothes and college expenses.
Papa Jack knocked on car widows and told me to go in the house. He decided I should frost my hair. He thought my skin tones were wrong to have such dark hair. He picked out dresses for me and bought them. He listened to me cry when romance when wrong. He also listened to a lot of temper tantrums.
Papa Jack also taught me how to paint and how to drive a riding lawn mower. When Marty bought a car with a stick shift, guess who saved my marriage and taught me to shift gears. ( never, ever try to learn a stick shift from your husband)
One Christmas I was shopping with him and saw something for Marty. I borrowed the money from Papa Jack. This was when we paid cash for everything. Credit cards were rare and used for emergencies. I didn't know until later, Marty had borrowed money from him the same day to buy my gift. We had the money, just not on us.
Marty asked Jack for permission to marry me. And my Papa gave me away at the wedding. As Mother's children had children, he became Papaw Jack.
He has changed through the years. He had a hot temper and has mellowed out over the years. He was helpless in the kitchen when they married yet now does a lot of the cooking for Mother and him. One of my favorite stories about Jack is when Mother went to help my sister when she had a baby. Mother cooked up lots of food for him including a ham. When Mother came home, everything was still in the fridge. She asked him why didn't you eat the ham? And Jack answered, " You didn't slice it."
One last story about Papa Jack. When they first married he worked for one of the funeral homes. He drove the ambulance and the hearse. He wasn't happy with this as a career choice. One day there was a funeral in the church across the street from our house. He helped carry the body in and then quit in the middle of the funeral. My mother asked why in the middle of a funeral. He said only quit when they need you.
Love you Papa Jack
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
MOM, ARE YOU THERE, MOM????
Clerk C brought me the license and said "Watch your purse and belongings." I said, 'What?" And she explained the groom got out of prison yesterday. The bride was yelling at him for stealing money out of her purse. Sounds like a great beginning to their life.
I went out, got them and their witness, bride's mother, and we went upstairs. The couple is still ticked at each other, lots of tension in the room. I do my questions slowly in case anyone wants to back out. No, they are ready.
I begin the ceremony. The groom is watching the bride's mother who is behind me. She is to bring up the rings when I tell her. Suddenly she just walks up between me and the couple. And then she freezes like when we played statues as children. I ignore her, I am a pro, nothing fazes me. I then come to the ring ceremony and ask for the rings. And the bride asks for them, and then the groom. The witness, Mom, has zoned out of life. Finally she kicks in and gives the groom the bride's ring. And then she is gone again. We go through it again and finally get the groom's ring. Then we have to sign the license.
I give Mom the non legal souvenir license to sign, I point out the line. Mom can barely hit the line, and she doesn't sign what is on the legal license. I realize this woman is stoned out of her mind. Since this is not a legal document, I ignore the name.
Then we come to the real license. I tell her it must match the typed name. She has trouble hitting the line, and then adds nonsense letters. We can't use the license. No way the state will accept half a name and then random letters. We have to print a new one and try again.
Re-signing is harder than the first time. She can not hit the line, tries to sign else where. But we get it done and the marriage is legal. I leave to get my next couple. When I come back upstairs the clerk tells me they had trouble getting Mom out of her office. She zoned out again. The couple kept saying Mom let's go. Nothing going in. She was rooted to the floor.
I teased C that she warned about the groom but not about Mom. She hadn't really met Mom. But did know Mom was the one driving. I think Mom is still sitting at a stop light on Jackson.
I went out, got them and their witness, bride's mother, and we went upstairs. The couple is still ticked at each other, lots of tension in the room. I do my questions slowly in case anyone wants to back out. No, they are ready.
I begin the ceremony. The groom is watching the bride's mother who is behind me. She is to bring up the rings when I tell her. Suddenly she just walks up between me and the couple. And then she freezes like when we played statues as children. I ignore her, I am a pro, nothing fazes me. I then come to the ring ceremony and ask for the rings. And the bride asks for them, and then the groom. The witness, Mom, has zoned out of life. Finally she kicks in and gives the groom the bride's ring. And then she is gone again. We go through it again and finally get the groom's ring. Then we have to sign the license.
I give Mom the non legal souvenir license to sign, I point out the line. Mom can barely hit the line, and she doesn't sign what is on the legal license. I realize this woman is stoned out of her mind. Since this is not a legal document, I ignore the name.
Then we come to the real license. I tell her it must match the typed name. She has trouble hitting the line, and then adds nonsense letters. We can't use the license. No way the state will accept half a name and then random letters. We have to print a new one and try again.
Re-signing is harder than the first time. She can not hit the line, tries to sign else where. But we get it done and the marriage is legal. I leave to get my next couple. When I come back upstairs the clerk tells me they had trouble getting Mom out of her office. She zoned out again. The couple kept saying Mom let's go. Nothing going in. She was rooted to the floor.
I teased C that she warned about the groom but not about Mom. She hadn't really met Mom. But did know Mom was the one driving. I think Mom is still sitting at a stop light on Jackson.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
DON'T JUDGE A WEDDING BY THE BRIDE AND GROOM
Monday I did several weddings. There were one or two I thought I could write about. ThenI did the last wedding and it became the winner.
I had seen the couple in the lobby. He was in a lovely white shirt with black embroidery. She was in a white dress, silver heels, pearls and a tiara. Sounds traditional doesn't it? Well he had dreadlocks that were fire engine red and then there was her hair. Granted I have no room to talk with my burgundy hair. But her hair was just a little off the wall. One part of a side in corn rows, natural black color. The rest of the hair was fluffed out like a fan and was the color of Chardonnay with just a little bit of yellow food coloring in it.
As we discussed the ceremony I found out they really were traditional. She very much wanted it as close to a traditional church wedding as possible. They wanted the vows, "for better or for worse, for richer or poorer. . .". They had also written their vows. When they read their vows I teared up. This young in your face man had written a love poem. The bride was beside herself listening to him. And then she did her vows. She listed the reasons she loved him: from his soft lips on hers to his stubbornness. They were very emotional as were all of us in the room.
It is a cliche, but love is grand.
I had seen the couple in the lobby. He was in a lovely white shirt with black embroidery. She was in a white dress, silver heels, pearls and a tiara. Sounds traditional doesn't it? Well he had dreadlocks that were fire engine red and then there was her hair. Granted I have no room to talk with my burgundy hair. But her hair was just a little off the wall. One part of a side in corn rows, natural black color. The rest of the hair was fluffed out like a fan and was the color of Chardonnay with just a little bit of yellow food coloring in it.
As we discussed the ceremony I found out they really were traditional. She very much wanted it as close to a traditional church wedding as possible. They wanted the vows, "for better or for worse, for richer or poorer. . .". They had also written their vows. When they read their vows I teared up. This young in your face man had written a love poem. The bride was beside herself listening to him. And then she did her vows. She listed the reasons she loved him: from his soft lips on hers to his stubbornness. They were very emotional as were all of us in the room.
It is a cliche, but love is grand.
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