Wednesday, November 1, 2023

How Many elipses does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, pop?

 

Mr. PNW says 'Get enough food to eat, and eat it.'



Last month sucked with a capital SUCK. I am happy to see October in the rearview.  Yes, it was Halloween last night, but meh. As usual we got no Trick or Treaters, which is fine, because The Biker bought M&M's just in case, and this morning I had el mucho peanut M&M's at hand, and peanut M&M's are precisely what I dined upon for breakfast this fine November first. 

It was time the Universe smiled on me a little.   

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SANDWICH FURY OF THIRTEEN DRAGONS!


I love sandwiches. They are portable, they are a handy size and shape, and they are tasty.  You can hold sandwich in one hand and a gun, or a cup of coffee, or a shovel, in the other, and fulfill your nutritional needs while you shoot to kill/get caffeinated/bludgeon someone with a shovel.  

I taught myself how to cook when I was very young. The first 'recipes' I invented were for sandwiches, and I had a million of 'em. I invented...

1965's Cotto Salami Flap Sandwich which is a couple of pieces of the sleaziest Cotto Salami you can find, put on one slice of the sleaziest white bread you can find, flapped over and then stuffed into the breast pocket of your bibs. Make three - one for each pocket!* and share with Bill Beizer and his sister Ellen way up a big tree.   Then yell for help until someone comes and gets you all down out of the big tree.) 

...1970's Huge Bacon Lettuce and Tomato (one sliced fat, drippy, home-grown tomato, six or more crispy slices of bacon, shredded iceburg lettuce, and a mayonnaise that includes olive oil, parmesan cheese, chili flakes, red wine vinegar and oregano, on sourdough.  SO yum.)

...1977's Cashew Chicken Salad Sandwich ( chicken salad made with chopped cashews, a little onion, a sprinkle of garlic powder, thin cut celery and celery leaves, an oil and red wine vinegar dressing brought together with a bare dab of mayonnaise and mixed with some cubed chicken breast, then 'blap' on a wad of alfalfa sprouts that are laying on some homemade French bread; which kicks ass.)  

            I used to keep a food diary, so that's how I remember the dates, before anybody asks. 

I literally cannot remember my own phone number, but I remember sitting up a huge dogwood tree in 1965 with Bill and Ellen Beiser eating Cotto Salami Flap Sandwiches and then realizing we had clumb* up too far into the branches, and panicking.

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  Voulez-vous...you know what I'll just leave this here.   


When I saw the New Orleans Muffaleta Sandwich on TV some years back, I said to myself  'Self, that looks absolutely delicious. This needs to happen.' and I did that thing, and it was awesome.  An excellent sandwich in all respects.

(This recipe for a Gin-You-Wine Muffaletta Poe-Boy *squaaaak NEVERMORE *  is as good as any out there. Please hit 'jump to recipe' right quick though, or suffer through paragraphs of yadda yadda and ads, because this page is balls deep in monitization.) 


Ah, but it was the olive salad constituent that captured my heart.  That is some delicious shit.

The first thing I did was cut out the giardiniera because life is too short to be eating pickled cauliflower.  That may not be in the giardiniera available to you in Parts Foreign, but that's all we get out here.  Mezzetta Brand Giardiniera.  They put cauliflower in it, and honestly? fuck that. Gawd. Yak. Ew. 

So it was that I was forced to invent my own olive salad that is one million times of the Universe plus Saturn of deliciouser more better than the shit with cauliflower in it.

Now olives can run a little musky and same-o same-o as a flavor. 

That would not do.  I wanted a ROCKIN' olive salad. Therefore I created...

    Not A Tapanade but Also Not Strictly An Olive Salad    

                                    This will, as always, take longer to read than to do.  


==An equal amount of pitted Kalamata olives, pitted Castelvetrano olives, pimento-stuffed Manzanilla olives, and pitted plain black olives. 

How much is an equal amount? Try eyeballing the mass and get back to me. I will ignore you. Prepare for that.  This is to your own taste and need for olive salad in your life. 

Chop these olives until the individual pieces are >(    )< that size. Next, put into a mixing bowl. Not a huge one, just a regular one. Come on use some common sense here.

    ==Whole sun-dried tomatoes packed in olive oil - again, this shit varies. And these tend pretty sweet, so be advised. I'd say take one sun dried tomato out and chop it into hair- thin strips, and repeat those actions until you have about 1/6 the mass of the olives in finely chopped sun dried tomatoes.  Got that did? Put into the bowl. 

    ==Raw Garlic, a heaping teaspoon.  Peel cloves and then put through a press.  Sweat the pulp  in a little olive oil for about 5 minutes. Cool, then add to mixing bowl, oil and all.  

    ==Scallions (AKA green onions, spring onions) Add as many as you feel lead by the Lord. Chop very fine and add raw to the mixing bowl. You could use plain white minced Bermuda Onions here, but scallions will taste better and look better.

== 1 lemons' worth of zested lemon peel. Any size lemon. Go for it. 


See this thing?  Use this thing. Or use a plain grater, or just a vegetable peeler.  


==1/2 tsp. pulverized anchovy, the kind you squeeze out of a toothpaste tube. You know the stuff. YES ADD IT.

==I hesitate to put this here, but I use it.  It takes knowledge of the kind of pepper you use.  One red, sweet pepper, roasted, seeded, peeled and chopped fine. Into the mixing bowl. 

   Taste taste  taste taste !! Red sweet peppers can be very sweet indeed!  They can also be very complex and wonderful. I have no idea what kind of red pepper you have available or what kind of flavor it has. I am presuming sweet, with a distinct flavor of freshly ground black pepper.  You go by what you like, or skip this entirely.    

==Salt, Pepper - to taste. In we go.

    ==Additional olive oil, to taste and to influence spreadability. I like Napoleon Spanish Olive Oil because it's peppery.  You could instead use ghee. Do not cheap out and use margarine or any other commonly used cooking oil (vegetable, rapeseed, corn, peanut, soybean, cottonseed no no no no.)

==SECRET INGREDIENT:  Now this is going to take some tasting and a lot of care and discretion. The ingredient is

    Citric Acid    

And the measurement is 'enough to coat a damp teaspoon' to begin with. Use very, very little indeed.

This is the first ingredient I've come across that offers such a huge, immediate difference to flavors - and then stays stable. There is no window of oxidization or number or hours to marinate. Let's say you've made a Bolognaise sauce and it tastes muddy because you might have overcooked that pup. The very barest amount of Citric Acid - a mere dusting!- added to your saucepan of muddy Bolognaise will separate all the flavors and bring them to the forefront vividly. Similarly olive salad!  A bare trace of citric acid will bring the flavor of each ingredient to the forefront, and the added trace of sourness will augment the whole.

                        *Watches tracers form on passing hand.  Does this for 45 minutes.* 

So you get the drift, then. Add just a cunthair bit of Citric Acid, stir, and the taste. 

Keep doing this until you suddenly begin to taste everything separately. It could happen with that first damp teaspoon!  Or it might take a tiny bit more. Once everything springs to life, stop right there. Do not add another bit. You are done.  

---Now all you do is stir all these ingredients very thoroughly together. You want the juices to mingle. Stand there and stir until your feet begin to hurt.  Maybe call a friend you haven't heard from in awhile and catch up. Meanwhile you're stirring, and the olives and stuff are making a 'glick slish glick glick gaslosh' sound as you stir, right? and your buddy will think you're getting a blow job! Choice!


==Put in sealed container and store in refrigerator. Use as a sandwich spread, although don't let me dictate your culinary limits. It's fantastic in an omelette, or on pasta, or just out of the jar. Also in Pork Roulade with a lot of rosemary. Or on a white pizza. Or in a tagine!!! 

FUCK YEAH CHICKEN TAGINE
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   

This Olive Salad is meant, however, to be great on a Muffaletta Sandwich.
 
Do I make an authentic New Orleans Muffaletta Sandwich?  I do not. I doubt that even the originators of the Muffaletta Sandwich still make an authentic Muffaletta Sandwich anymore. Nobody wrote that shit down back when, and everybody who ever ate an original one is dead now.  

Maybe I'm doing you a huge favor by not having that original recipe at hand. 

Here's a sandwich it's good on.  It has muffaletta-ish ingredients, but then again maybe it doesn't. 

The Oregon Sandwich
 "Tastes like liberal politics and aggressive waterfowl!" 
   
                                                                    "We're here!  
                                                                       Craft beer!  
                                            Something something rhymes with 'eer!"     
  


==One dense white bread-type sandwich roll with a thick crust - split, and some of the fluff taken out of both pieces to form a bit of an indentation.  Chunk the fluff out the back door for the birds, or stand there and eat it like a kid. I do.

==Cold cuts:  Mortadella, gypsy salami, and capicola

==Cheese:  Provelone and Swiss

==The olive salad I just gave you the recipe for
~~~~~~~~

---Slap a nice thick layer of olive salad on the top and bottom bun. Stack cold cuts and cheese on top. Any amount, either bun or both. 

---Stack sandwich back together, and be neat. Make sure that things are spread out equally.  It's important, because of the next step.

---Place whole sandwich in a container, and put a weight on top of the sandwich. Yes. Seriously. Don't squish it as hard as you can, and don't step on it. Put a brick, or a cast iron skillet, inside a stout Glad bag and rest that on your nicely stacked sandwich, and let it all sit in the refrigerator for six hours and get flattened down. 
Yes I do this. 
Yes it is worth it.

Make this sandwich in the morning and then in the afternoon, take it out and eat that sapsucker.  Weighting it makes it taste better in an indefinable way - far better than if you just put the sandwich together and then chowed down on the spot. And don't get me wrong; that's an excellent sandwich, but the pressed version is a MORE EXCELLENT SANDWICH.***
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*Only works with Carhart bibs. 

** Clumb is, as you may have guessed, is the past tense of 'clumbed.'



***I remember a show called Two Fat Ladies, a cooking program from the UK. The premise was, two fat ladies - imagine it -  cooking stuff. One of the things they prepared was a Shooter's Sandwich. The Shooters' Sandwich is also a pressed sandwich, and it too is better for having been pressed all day and chilled. 

WHY IS THIS SO????? 

It is one of the Sandwich Mysteries.




Monday, October 30, 2023

DIE HARD

 Well that dream died quickly.


Turns out we don't qualify. At all. And never will, because of finances.

BUT I'LL BE DIPPED IN DOGSHIT BEFORE I MOVE TO THE FUCKING SOUTH

Saturday, October 28, 2023

Flip a coin like a responsible adult and blame chance

 Where have I been?  

PROCRASTINATING.  

  

...just being all semi-clad  running up a hill, y'all.  

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Good news!  We qualify for subsidized housing! What that means is two things:  1. We, being all old and shit, can save lots of money on our rent, and most importantly,  2. this means that we don't have to up stakes three years down the road and move to motherfucking Kentucky when the Biker retires.

The Biker has been trying to talk me into the Kentucky idea for decades now.  It all began when we were doing a lot of motorcycle touring, and he began looking up places that are well-known for having beautiful motorways.  He found one in Kentucky and that sealed the deal for him. We would move to Kentucky and I don't know, just motorcycle around looking at poverty or something.

Because Kentucky is not a place where most people have a lot of money. You won't find a lot of liberal politics there either. What you will find is hundreds of dying little towns scattered throughout the mountains, remote as fuck, (only accessible by presumably beautiful motorcycling roads) inhabited by the seventy-year-old results of generational incest, captive workforce politics, and fundamentalist religion. 

-folks, it's not a stereotype because it never happens that way. Have relatives in Kentucky? It's a beautiful place?  How dare I?  

  



 Beginning mere hours after the Biker made his Kentucky Pronouncement, I've done all kinds of research on this region, going on Google Maps street view, accessing blogs, comments, really diving deep, doing this for years, and...it's depressing.  No, it's more than depressing. It's GRIM.

But hey!  We qualify for subsidized housing! 

  

   HOORAY!!!!!  

We can stay here, in Bellingham, where the elderly generally don't sit out next to the road gumming corn cobs (depending on what part of town you're in.) We have a chance to live out our lives in one of the few parts of America that won't be seriously affected by the results of global warming, that has good medical care nearby, that is liberal, and where I am settled the fuck in dammit.

Lengthy Rant Follows.

Now it's just a process of applying, waiting, re-applying, waiting, being on absolute minute-perfect time to appointments, having the paperwork lost, applying, being on time for appointments, being interviewed, having the paperwork lost, talking to five different people who do not talk to one another or check their computers and have no idea what's going on, 

   


re-applying, talking to people, talking to more people, waiting, being told we don't qualify, being told we do qualify, being told there are no units, telling people that we are already living in a qualified unit and have owner pre-approval, being told that they'll have to speak to a supervisor and then disappearing without a trace, waiting, re-applying, 

   


being told our paperwork is incomplete, being told that we don't meet certain criteria by someone who has no idea what they're talking about, and most of all, being pleasant, clean, well-spoken but not too well spoken, 

   


using our nicest manners, not maintaining eye contact for too long,being clean clean clean but not too well dressed, heaven forfend you be too well-dressed, 

  

Madame you are entirely too picturesque. Begone!  


being absolutely polite and above all deferential, and being told your paperwork has been lost. And showing up on pinpoint-perfect time for interviews.

Oh!  And they want every last detail of your finances too. From you. In person.

   

...because this shit happens fifteen times a day and they're READY for it!!!   



Of course, being a government agency, they can look that shit up online using our Social Security numbers - and this is absolutely true - but that's waaaaaay too much work.



They want you to do that for them, by bringing in paper documentations and filling out yet more forms. Which ends up making more work for them. Which they in turn resent you for the more often you show up. Because government agency.

Luckily I have past experience with this kind of shit.  Still, thoughts and prayers folks.  

  ...because I am way less tolerant than I used to be.  


Tuesday, October 17, 2023

For Mr. Peenee

 Wow that last post, huh?  What a trip!  You probably think my ass was high.  Nope.  I'm going to get right on that, though.  


Kleek heer to heer da plangent tones ob Babymaaaaaaaaaaan:

babyman "High like a fly" - YouTube

   

OK.  Here's what happened. I had a post in mind, and to me at that time it seemed only moderately scary and like something I could treat lightly.  So I went on a search around the Internet for my ex-husband's picture, found a recent one, and scared the living shit out of myself over the period of a day.

My ex-husband was not a wonderful guy. He did crimes. He did bad crimes.  Thing was, the guy was all charm. He had everybody snowed.  

Plus, he looked like Troye Sivan:

No, I do not exaggerate.    


...and between the charm and the angelic features nobody believed that he could possibly be guilty of anything.  

He was.  

He was guilty of a lot of things in fact.  One of those things was attempted murder. Of me.  Which sucked.

I ended up in the emergency room.  By the time they found me a bed in a womens' shelter, the police had already questioned my ex-husband once; and they were still on his trail when his mommy snuck him out of the country. While he was on a bicycle tour of Europe, then, I was back in Seattle with no money, a newborn baby on my hip, moving through a succession of battered womens shelters until I found a studio apartment that accepted AFDC tenants.  Every now and then over the next year I'd get a visit from the police asking me if I was ab-so-lute-ly certain-sure, really-fo-feely sure, now, that I wasn't just hiding him. *

Why all the police interest?  

You see, he was under suspicion in the Green River murders.* 

Yup.

So when I found a recent picture of him online I was taken aback.  There he was, and he not only didn't look much the worse for wear, he looked like a kindly little old gnome. 

I am, however, stoked as hell that he's 1. Sixty  and 2. Balding.

And that's what I get when I try and do a damn theme month.** 

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* Note:  He wasn't guilty of the Green River Murders.

**The last time the police visited me I told them that if I ever saw my ex-husband again I'd be the one they'd be arresting because I'd stick a pair of scissors through the little bastards throat. And I might have been really classy about it and called them ten stacks of motherfuckers and shouted and thrown shoes, and slammed the door on them and a host of other impolitic things like that. 

Hey, they quit bothering me. 

 I ask you, though. Was I hiding him. 


 

Saturday, October 14, 2023

The Somewhat Wild

This picture is here only because it beats the hell out of the only other picture on this post - and I'd rather look at ICP, thanks.  OO by the way, here:  Insane Clown Posse Gathering sued after legless Juggalo crashes golf cart into man (yahoo.com)

Because stupidity this stupid should scare people.
(posted around 3: P.M.
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(Original intro text posted around 1: P.M., 10-12-23)


(New intro plus photo posted around 10- 8- 33)

(re-posted around 6:20 P.M., 10-14 - 2023)

I have given myself a bit longer than ordinary to think this post out.  Should I transgress, or should I maintain the privacy of a certain individual?


Fuck 'im.

(posted around 2:30 P.M.)


(posted around 4:30 P.M.)   
This ain't him.

ORIGINAL TEXT
      
 

See, I thought better yet again.  Although his true-ass picture was up at 9:00 A.M. and remained that way until I deleted it and the accompanying text e.g.  5:30 P.M. this day of our Lord 10/14/23. 

Good sense prevails - if not often, yet true.

_________________________________________________________________________




(For those of you who might have seen the original post... I absolutely love that he's balding.)


(6: 5 P.M.   For those of you who want to see the original post - let it be known in the comments!)


(I stopped being able to keep track a few days ago.)



          





 

 

Saturday, October 7, 2023

Welcome to October: The Mild

        

1. The Light Eater

I loved the cartoon Johnny Quest when I was young.  Of course this was a 'boys' cartoon. As soon as the theme music began playing my parents would begin urging me to go outside and play and "quit watchin' boys stuff, that ain't fa' you." Oh but let me hasten to correct your asses. It was as far as I was concerned.  

So I had to hide my tears of terror when this goddamn thing crawled across the TV screen:

This thing can go die right now. I hate this thing. No. Ack. I'm hiding. Ew.

It must have been the combination of the ominous backing music and the single eyeball, or it's overall ghostly appearance, but that one episode of Johnny Quest gave me nightmares for years. I just now watched that clip play through and be damned if I didn't get the chills again.  NOT BANDIT!  NOOOOOOO!
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2. It's a jawline, Myrtle, not the Berlin Wall


I adore Kelly Osbourne. I do.  But I do not adore her makeup artist.


No no no no no no no.  No no.  Nothing creeps me out like seeing someone whose face and neck are not the same color.   It is HORRIBLE.
Why does this bother me so?
Remember when I told you that my family were caretakers of a cemetery? Because of that fact, and because my parents were themselves quite old, I've been to a metric shit-ton of funerals in my life, most of them between the ages of 6 - 12. All of them for very elderly people. And....
You fill in the blank.  I'll give you a hint. It's....

  

Now that everyone is famous for fifteen minutes you see this horrible offence on the faces of the living, and if you have a Fahrenheit 451-sized television like we do, it's always a shock. All the pores, all the blemishes, all the bad, bad decisions.  Particularly in 80's TV shows. Go check and see if I'm not right! It's like they hired makeup artists from the days of black and white to save money or something. 

Go here for more atrocities!  Or just to read my favorite title (#25)

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3. The History Chef.  

Mmmmm. Chips and Mayo!
    


History Chef has a very informative show. I've watched it for awhile - on my laptop. 

History Chef works hard for his followers. He has a pleasant voice and good content. And I was happy. Until one day I found him while doing an idle search on my Fahrenheit 451 TV. "Well my goodness! There's his sassy cheffy fanny!" I rejoiced (or words to that effect) and tuned in.


Only to discover that History Chef is a red battlefield of cracked, flaking, oozing eczema. 





Thursday, October 5, 2023

I have a John Cleese T-Shirt

In musical response to a recent post by Jon, here's Robbie Neville looking freshly fucked on Top of the Pops:

You think you're the only one who can C'est la Vie honey? I can C'est La Vie with the best of them.   

 

You know what I see?  I see the love child of Marc Bolan and Peter Frampton here.  OOO, or maybe a Peter Burns 'before' picture?


"Oh my God his poor hair", I thought, upon seeing this for the first time in years. "I bet he's bald now."
 

Speaking of hair donors, remember when the young man below vvv was the sole property of Sir Elton? 


If only Mr. Vanelli had remained in this electropop-bounce groove. Let's give Mr. Vanelli another chance, shall we?

...OK in good conscience I should provide a Warning for the following:

....nah. Suffer.   


 If only this poor melody didn't have lyrics.
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OK enough of that.  If you've read this far you deserve a fucking medal a heads up about Things To Come.

 



YOU ARE WARNED     

It being October, and Halloween on it's way, I am declaring Tlacaxipehualiztli here at STEVE.
-OK maybe not that extreme. But possibly just that disturbing. 

I'll start out mild. I'll try and keep it light.

 
But don't count on it bitcheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees.