...are in the latest recipe from Aprons. I think it was pretty good, but I did not eat it, because it also involves sausage. Which I do not want to put in my mouth. Even though it is made from chicken instead of pork. It's just the flavor, and the idea of 'sausage' (remembering that old bad joke about how you really don't want to know the particulars of how they make sausage or laws). And that thin, membrane casing the ground up meat is forced into. The last time we made a recipe that had some form of sausage in it, we had to take the casing off, using just the meat, loose. I won't even say what that casing looked like when I peeled it off the meat before putting in the pan to brown. Ick.
This one had onions and bell pepper, sautéed in the pan with the sausage. When this gets done, (you should be sure meat is thoroughly cooked, check that internal temp is 165), take it out of the pan. Wipe the pan, and put in a bit more oil, then add the package of frozen pierogies. Cook about five min on each side, then add the sliced sausage and vegetables back in, along with a tasty sauce consisting of spicy brown mustard and vinegar.
People would come by and peer into the skillet and say: 'what is that?' And I would say: 'sausage, peppers and onions with ravioli-type pasta filled with cheese.' How would you describe a pierogie?
The recipe was actually designed to be cooked on a grill. Which, of course, did not happen in the store. The tasters said it was really good. I did not try it, due to the fact that it was much too reminiscent of sausage. Even though it was chicken and not pork. As a result of my superb, outstanding skills, lots of people left the store with sausage and pierogies, planning to cook the recipe for their family tonight. I wish I was making a commission.
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
Tuesday, July 21, 2015
a man who is...
...hard to buy gifts for. When he wants something, he will in all likelihood buy it for himself. I am probably the same way, meaning if there is something I think I really want, I am not likely to say: 'you can put this on that list of things you want to remember when gift-giving time comes around, and instead of asking me or wondering, you will know I'm wishing I had a _ _ _ _.' I am pretty good at making mental notes about other people, and remembering their wishes, when they are thinking out loud or mumbling about something they don't think they deserve.
I was doing the laundry today, for the guy who apparently continues to believe in the Clean Underwear Fairy. Doing the basket of white things that did not get taken care of on Monday. And found some handkerchiefs. You don't often see men who put one in their pocket every morning when they get dressed. Just not in common usage these days. But this guy always tucks one in his back pocket. The ones I was folding after they came out of the dryer have something stitched on a corner. Some have a little blue heart. Some have his initials, some just say 'Dad'.
Every time I fold a clean one to put back in the drawer, I think of the daughter who took the time to stitch on the corner of each white square of fabric. Who took the time with a needle and thread to personalize a whole box of hankies before she gave them to him as a Christmas gift. I doubt he gives it a thought when it tucks it in his hip pocket, but I always think of her when I am folding them into tidy little squares.
My granddad died in 1981, living in a nursing home in south GA. He had dementia and was not aware of his circumstances, his family or much of anything about life. When I asked my grandmother, who devotedly went to see him each day to help him with lunch, she suggested he could use some new handkerchiefs for a Christmas gift.
The staff at the nursing home would dress their residents in an assortment of clothing, whatever was at hand, whether it belonged to that particular patient or not. Though she would write his last name in each article of clothing, my grandmother could expect to find her husband of sixty-plus years dressed in anyone's pants and shirt. Though she never knew whose clothing he might be wearing, he would always have a hanky in his pocket that has his last name neatly stitched on a corner in bright red thread.
I was doing the laundry today, for the guy who apparently continues to believe in the Clean Underwear Fairy. Doing the basket of white things that did not get taken care of on Monday. And found some handkerchiefs. You don't often see men who put one in their pocket every morning when they get dressed. Just not in common usage these days. But this guy always tucks one in his back pocket. The ones I was folding after they came out of the dryer have something stitched on a corner. Some have a little blue heart. Some have his initials, some just say 'Dad'.
Every time I fold a clean one to put back in the drawer, I think of the daughter who took the time to stitch on the corner of each white square of fabric. Who took the time with a needle and thread to personalize a whole box of hankies before she gave them to him as a Christmas gift. I doubt he gives it a thought when it tucks it in his hip pocket, but I always think of her when I am folding them into tidy little squares.
My granddad died in 1981, living in a nursing home in south GA. He had dementia and was not aware of his circumstances, his family or much of anything about life. When I asked my grandmother, who devotedly went to see him each day to help him with lunch, she suggested he could use some new handkerchiefs for a Christmas gift.
The staff at the nursing home would dress their residents in an assortment of clothing, whatever was at hand, whether it belonged to that particular patient or not. Though she would write his last name in each article of clothing, my grandmother could expect to find her husband of sixty-plus years dressed in anyone's pants and shirt. Though she never knew whose clothing he might be wearing, he would always have a hanky in his pocket that has his last name neatly stitched on a corner in bright red thread.
about monday...
...which was a day devoted to sitting and waiting. With a lot of time spent observing the cohorts looking at their cell phones, browsing through Facebook or checking emails. Looking like the duck, in the joke who is looking so calm and unruffled on the surface, while paddling like crazy where no one can see.
TP was scheduled to get the electronic device in his chest replaced. The heart doc. he has been seeing for several years, after the first one died of a heart attack :( said the battery was getting low enough that it should be changed. I have always wondered out loud why they cannot recharge externally. I guess the idea of replacing is a great way to have to opportunity to sell and install more?
It was a mostly uneventful event for the people who were sitting around waiting all day long. He was appointed to arrive at 9:00, which told me that it would be an all day project. If he had been scheduled to show up before first light, we'd have been the first in line for the procedure. To be home by lunchtime, rather than cooling our heels as the que got behinder and behinder as the day progressed, like the landing pattern circling over Hartsfield International Airport.
He is Mr. OnTime, so if the appt. is for nine, he will be there at 8:15. Which does not get you any points in the medical community. Better have something good to read when you walk in the door.
I had a National Geographic, with a cover story about medical weed, that was very interesting. I am the one who wrote the essay in high school. Promoting, supporting pot, and received lots of suspicious questions and doubting looks from principal and teachers in the small rural community where we lived.
He was released around five o'clock, sent home with instructions that he was not allowed to drive, or take a shower for a week. The way the discharging nurse described it was to say that he has 'bathroom privileges. Which she explained to mean he should not be doing anything that causes more exertion than walking the distance from the recliner to the toilet and back. We'll see how that works out...
TP was scheduled to get the electronic device in his chest replaced. The heart doc. he has been seeing for several years, after the first one died of a heart attack :( said the battery was getting low enough that it should be changed. I have always wondered out loud why they cannot recharge externally. I guess the idea of replacing is a great way to have to opportunity to sell and install more?
It was a mostly uneventful event for the people who were sitting around waiting all day long. He was appointed to arrive at 9:00, which told me that it would be an all day project. If he had been scheduled to show up before first light, we'd have been the first in line for the procedure. To be home by lunchtime, rather than cooling our heels as the que got behinder and behinder as the day progressed, like the landing pattern circling over Hartsfield International Airport.
He is Mr. OnTime, so if the appt. is for nine, he will be there at 8:15. Which does not get you any points in the medical community. Better have something good to read when you walk in the door.
I had a National Geographic, with a cover story about medical weed, that was very interesting. I am the one who wrote the essay in high school. Promoting, supporting pot, and received lots of suspicious questions and doubting looks from principal and teachers in the small rural community where we lived.
He was released around five o'clock, sent home with instructions that he was not allowed to drive, or take a shower for a week. The way the discharging nurse described it was to say that he has 'bathroom privileges. Which she explained to mean he should not be doing anything that causes more exertion than walking the distance from the recliner to the toilet and back. We'll see how that works out...
Sunday, July 19, 2015
cookin' today...
...making this dish I kept referring to as Chicken and Rice. But the official name was something about 'imperial rice', which I assume means it has something delightful added to it. Sadly, the only thing on the plate besides rice and chicken were the peas and carrots that the recipe instructs to add at the last minute.
You cook the chicken strips in broth, then take them out to cool. While that happens, you put a 10 oz. bag of yellow rice in the broth, and some diced veg., onions, celery, peppers. When this is done, stir in the chicken that has cooled off enough to shred. Then you mix in a bit of stuff that makes a sort of sauce: mayo, sour cream and grated cheese, along with a spoonful of cumin. Fluff it up and serve.
The version of the recipe we were given, with some helpful hints you can share with the consumers, says to tell the tasters they could start with a chicken from the deli, one of the RTU rotisserie birds, and cut the prep time in half. You just shred it and stir the chicken into the rice. And if you have left overs, use it to make burritos with flour tortillas. Add some lettuce, tomato, avocado - whatever you people like when you let them serve their self around the table.
The man who just ate the little bit of leftover I brought home said it was really good. Repeating himself at least five times. Then admitted he ate two sandwiches a couple of hours ago.
You cook the chicken strips in broth, then take them out to cool. While that happens, you put a 10 oz. bag of yellow rice in the broth, and some diced veg., onions, celery, peppers. When this is done, stir in the chicken that has cooled off enough to shred. Then you mix in a bit of stuff that makes a sort of sauce: mayo, sour cream and grated cheese, along with a spoonful of cumin. Fluff it up and serve.
The version of the recipe we were given, with some helpful hints you can share with the consumers, says to tell the tasters they could start with a chicken from the deli, one of the RTU rotisserie birds, and cut the prep time in half. You just shred it and stir the chicken into the rice. And if you have left overs, use it to make burritos with flour tortillas. Add some lettuce, tomato, avocado - whatever you people like when you let them serve their self around the table.
The man who just ate the little bit of leftover I brought home said it was really good. Repeating himself at least five times. Then admitted he ate two sandwiches a couple of hours ago.
cookin' yesterday...
...at work, still making the salmon that people said was so good. So tasty, in fact, that when I was at work today, cooking something entirely different, a customer came by and asked where to find the jars of pesto so she could make that yummy recipe she had a sample of several days ago.
While I was cooking I was observing, minding my own little business, but watching the store manager doing a little 'sort of' building project. I had noticed earlier, he was in the stock room, putting some shelving together. When he got them all assembled, he loaded them on a cart and took them out on the sales floor, to install them in a little space between end caps on each aisle and the shelving that starts the different departments. They are made of grid work, with the wires spaced so pegs can be installed in a series, and items that are designed to hang on the pegs can be displayed for random, impulse shopping. The only ones I noticed today had some bags of peppermint candy hanging from the pegs.
Yesterday, while they were hanging the units on the ends of each aisle, there was one person holding the unit, and the store manager with his electric drill, forcing the screws into the aisle shelving upright to hold it in place. He obviously did not think to be aware of what was behind the upright, and did not realize the screws were going all the way through the metal upright and out the other side. There on the other side was some plastic bottles of some sort of drink, like Gatorade. It comes in a variety of flavors and colors now, including a bright yellow that looks remarkably like Mountain Dew or possibly urine. He hit two of those bottles with his drill forcing that blistering hot screw into the plastic and out spouted a long stream of bright yellow liquid.
I am sad to say I was highly amused. They dashed over to my area, and grabbed handfuls of paper towels to mop up the mess. I was laughing so hard I was no help whatsoever. Making me think of little boys standing around the campfire playing at seeing who can pee the greatest distance.
While I was cooking I was observing, minding my own little business, but watching the store manager doing a little 'sort of' building project. I had noticed earlier, he was in the stock room, putting some shelving together. When he got them all assembled, he loaded them on a cart and took them out on the sales floor, to install them in a little space between end caps on each aisle and the shelving that starts the different departments. They are made of grid work, with the wires spaced so pegs can be installed in a series, and items that are designed to hang on the pegs can be displayed for random, impulse shopping. The only ones I noticed today had some bags of peppermint candy hanging from the pegs.
Yesterday, while they were hanging the units on the ends of each aisle, there was one person holding the unit, and the store manager with his electric drill, forcing the screws into the aisle shelving upright to hold it in place. He obviously did not think to be aware of what was behind the upright, and did not realize the screws were going all the way through the metal upright and out the other side. There on the other side was some plastic bottles of some sort of drink, like Gatorade. It comes in a variety of flavors and colors now, including a bright yellow that looks remarkably like Mountain Dew or possibly urine. He hit two of those bottles with his drill forcing that blistering hot screw into the plastic and out spouted a long stream of bright yellow liquid.
I am sad to say I was highly amused. They dashed over to my area, and grabbed handfuls of paper towels to mop up the mess. I was laughing so hard I was no help whatsoever. Making me think of little boys standing around the campfire playing at seeing who can pee the greatest distance.
just wondering...
... if anyone else has ever thought: 'why did God not put another joint in our arms?' It is impossible to wash that place in the middle of your back. It never, ever gets cleaned, unless you have purchased one of those brushes with a long handle that will allow you to scrub that place no one can reach.
We don't need that extra joint often, but if we had it I am thinking there would be other times when it would be a great convenience, and occasions when it would come in handy, for reaching into the otherwise odd spot. Just thinking how there is a place on everyone that is impossible to reach. Never getting clean since your mom stopped giving your a bath.
We don't need that extra joint often, but if we had it I am thinking there would be other times when it would be a great convenience, and occasions when it would come in handy, for reaching into the otherwise odd spot. Just thinking how there is a place on everyone that is impossible to reach. Never getting clean since your mom stopped giving your a bath.
travelin'...
to and fro. Drove up to Decatur on Thursday, after having llunch with a friend. Really good chunky chicken salad at a local café, that is, I think only open for the mid-day meal. Apparently doing enough business, with a steady clientele that supports their good home cookin' eats to serve lunch and keep the operation operating.
My plan was to spend the night in Decatur and drive over to SC on Friday, visit some of my favorite people and get back to Decatur before it dark. Most of that worked out according to my plan. Had a good visit with my pen pal, a ninety-three year old man who lives in Greenville. We went to do some shopping, and I helped him with wrapping some bridal gifts he purchased. He is such a sweet, thoughtful guy. A pair of young couples in the church he attends were being feted with bridal showers, and he wanted to go, take gifts to each of the brides-to-be. They had registered some kitchen items at the Bed and Bath store, so we went across town, picked up things that will be very useful for young people starting out as newlyweds, furnishing their first home. I wrapped them for him, and he will take gifts to present to the young couples when he attends the bridal showers at his neighborhood church.
We had yummy juicy tomato sandwiches for lunch. Grown by a neighbor who left them on his doorstep. Lots of bad-for-you mayonnaise and plain old white bread, salt and pepper. Oh, my goodness. And delicious, perfectly ripe cantaloupe.
Then I went to visit a cousin, who lives nearby. We always amuse ourselves well, looked at photos on grandkids, and laughed at antics of little people. Went to eat, then I started back to GA. And immediately got stuck in Friday afternoon traffic. Before I could even get back on the interstate to head towards Atlanta. Vehicles were backed up for miles along the access road leading to I-85. People had pulled over, sitting along the right of way, waiting for the parking lot to clear. I asked a semi-truck driver what was going on, and he reported a five car wreck several miles ahead. I guess five tow trucks resolved the mess, and it finally sorted out. I was after ten o'clock getting back into town, and flopping into bed.
Had to get up early to get back to work at ten o'clock on Saturday. And again today.
My plan was to spend the night in Decatur and drive over to SC on Friday, visit some of my favorite people and get back to Decatur before it dark. Most of that worked out according to my plan. Had a good visit with my pen pal, a ninety-three year old man who lives in Greenville. We went to do some shopping, and I helped him with wrapping some bridal gifts he purchased. He is such a sweet, thoughtful guy. A pair of young couples in the church he attends were being feted with bridal showers, and he wanted to go, take gifts to each of the brides-to-be. They had registered some kitchen items at the Bed and Bath store, so we went across town, picked up things that will be very useful for young people starting out as newlyweds, furnishing their first home. I wrapped them for him, and he will take gifts to present to the young couples when he attends the bridal showers at his neighborhood church.
We had yummy juicy tomato sandwiches for lunch. Grown by a neighbor who left them on his doorstep. Lots of bad-for-you mayonnaise and plain old white bread, salt and pepper. Oh, my goodness. And delicious, perfectly ripe cantaloupe.
Then I went to visit a cousin, who lives nearby. We always amuse ourselves well, looked at photos on grandkids, and laughed at antics of little people. Went to eat, then I started back to GA. And immediately got stuck in Friday afternoon traffic. Before I could even get back on the interstate to head towards Atlanta. Vehicles were backed up for miles along the access road leading to I-85. People had pulled over, sitting along the right of way, waiting for the parking lot to clear. I asked a semi-truck driver what was going on, and he reported a five car wreck several miles ahead. I guess five tow trucks resolved the mess, and it finally sorted out. I was after ten o'clock getting back into town, and flopping into bed.
Had to get up early to get back to work at ten o'clock on Saturday. And again today.
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