Crab cakes and avocado!
My mission was simple: stop at the specialty food store and pick up their scrumptious sausage patties. I was sadly disappointed. So I walked back, dejected to the bus stop. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied a sign on the fish store,
“Homemade Crab Cakes.”
Into the fishmonger went I all atwitter and bought me some crab cakes! This is the last hurrah for burgers, when many incorrectly call an end to summer and grill dead meat. We are doing patties too, but we sautéed until golden (as if personally and gently kissed by the sun), and we may very well put them in buns. Who’s gonna stop us? Maybe topped with tangy, Italian cole slaw.
I was feeling all foodie as I passed the Middle Eastern store and bought a few stuffed grape leaves to go with our avocado and grape tomato salad. And since I've had avocado in the head lately, this little discovery was quite a pleasant surprise that I would love to try:
crab cakes stuffed with avocado!
Every once in a while you must reclaim your right to throw life a change-up.
Labels: avocado, crab cakes, food, recipes
When true love stares you in the face...
I spent over two
glorious hours in a meeting today. Surrounded by IT guys, for once, I could speak in compound sentences and make obscure references… and they knew what the hell I was I was talking about!
The best moment came when I said to Number Two,
“Watch this!” and then turned to the head geek, “I want a content management system that allows vendors to upload proposals on the front end, and migrate the data on to a peer review system. Then I want to data mine the proposals to fill out the catalogue on the back end.” He gasped, a tiny unguarded moment, and smiled and was both astounded and delighted, “
How do you know…?” He couldn’t finish the thought. His expression was priceless.
For a tiny moment in my tenure I truly belonged. Then they went back to their office and I remained. I will not comment on that because this shall remain a non-work-related blog, but this episode reminded me of days long gone when It and I were interconnected and it all seemed terribly relevant. Who knew I’d miss
that?
Not much I can do about that at the moment, but it is refreshing to be free and nerdy. Better than strolling topless on the beach.
Of name-calling and mud slinging….
Although he supposedly offered his resignation on Friday, we first heard of it today. I have no problem with that as long as he is gone. President Bush said, in his address this morning that the Gonz was impeded from “doing important work because his good name was dragged through the mud for political reasons.” To this I reply: name-calling is a small price to pay when honorable men metaphorically take the U.S. Constitution and use it to wipe their asses with it.
Could I have made my point in a less vulgar fashion? Well, let me ask you this, could their behavior have been any less obscene if I’d used more flowery language?
Good riddance, I say. That, and NEXT!
Finally, on a personal note, we at the Temple come from a proud line also named González
(and yes, we spell ours with two zees, but just like we all like alike, I doubt most folks would find that the different spelling matters much in grouping us with the other Gonzaleses) and the mud-dragging has been felt by proud Gonzos that don’t deserve the connection. We are fully capable of soiling the family name in inventive ways that do not require breaking the highest laws of the land because we, for one, have some boundaries of decency.
¡Muchas gracias y adios, cabrón!
Adios, Gonzo!
And I am telling you
I'm not going
You're the best thing I'll ever know
There's no way I can ever go
No, no, there's no way
No, no, no, no way I'm living without you
I'm not living without you
I don't wanna be free
I'm staying
I'm staying
And you, and you
You're gonna love me
Mission: Delectable!
The mission for the week is to write a new food column for Barbara’s
website all about the mighty avocado!
My goal is to try to include different dishes, such as a salad, a soup, appetizer, main dish, dessert and beverage from different countries – but conspicuously leaving out guacamole. I don’t necessarily assume that everyone has their personal recipe for guacamole, but it is the easy way out.
I love avocado, so what I want is to get people who haven’t tried it or who aren’t sure how to work with it realize that it is more than a one-dish food. I also want to mix up the countries of origin for the column, make it an international culinary experience.
My friend Jeff just sent me a great recipe that would make a perfect main dish. And there is another recipe for a cake that sounds delicious. I have an old recipe for a sauce that is divine! It’s going to be awesome.
Teaching a pig to sing...
The adventures in
plagiarism with our rival Star Trek simulation continue. I injected myself in the “discussion” when it got personal and they insulted my friend, who plays the commanding officer. Sadly, I thought that trying logic and mature reasoning would expedite things and we’d all get to move on. But it was frustrating and fruitless. So much so, it brought to mind that Robert Heinlein quote:
"Never try to teach a pig to sing; it wastes your time and it annoys the pig."
Again, they offered a left-handed apology (
“Yeah, we stole it, but it is your fault for being mean to us a long time ago!”). They changed the materials they stole, with one exception. They kept the title. We object to this, of course, because it does not rectify the situation in full. They defend this action (or inaction, as it were) thusly: it took too long and too much work to create the banner and it’s just too hard to do another one. (I swear I am not making this up!)
So basically, they’re all for ethical behavior as long as they don’t have to work at it. Or take complete responsibility for it. My god, they could leave Australia and come here and start running Congress the moment they disembark at Kennedy Airport!
It has been a long and twisty week...
By which I mean, my brain isn't fully functional and I have nothing really insteresting to share. Intellectually I'm like helium right now. (Exactly!) So I took one of those silly quizzes because they are such good arbiters of character and whatnot. "Which Steven King novel are you?" It seemed like the perfect way to end my week...| Which Stephen King Novel Are You? |
The Dead Zone
What would you do if you knew you could avert world-wide catastrophe by killing someone? That's the premise of 'The Dead Zone,' You're not into horror proper, but more the psychological thriller genre. You like asking tough questions and trying to find out your own answers. Good for you. Stephen King has said he considers 'The Dead Zone' to be his best book. |
| Take The Quiz Now! | Quizzes by myYearbook.com |
Hmm, does it *have* to be world-wide or even a catastrophe for that matter -- I wonder as I hum that line from "Folsom Prison Blues" about that unfortunate man in Reno... Never mind, I'm going to bed now.
Carol Burnett steals cookies*
I had one of those dreams last night that just makes you wonder…
I was at the supermarket at Union Square with my friend Barbara and Carol Burnett. We had several bags and boxes of cookies, all opened and we were freely and openly eating said cookies. We were, effectively, stealing cookies. Moreover, I am here to tell you that it was Carol Burnett’s idea. I went along with it and there were crumbs all over me to disavow any claims of innocence.
This was around 3:30 this morning when the dream was interrupted and I awoke. I fell asleep at another part of the apartment, which prompted Mom to command me to
“Go to your room!” This is the only way to speak to a heavy sleeper that wanders about...
So, of course, I told her that Barbara, Carol and I were stealing cookies and this caused me to giggle, because it was really funny. I hit the pillow giggling and fell asleep again.
Interpret that!
* In my dreams!
Baa Baa Bitch
One of the reasons I resist the idea of moving back to Puerto Rico is that I would like to keep a choppy ocean between my fists and some family members. Chief among those who rile up the demons within is Patty, our own black sheep.
I despise that twit. I have been restraining myself for a while regarding her. I owe her a legendary ass kicking about the time she and her crackhead boyfriend knocked down my great grandmother. That is a long story and it is two decades old, but like I keep telling you: I’m not the forgiving type and I do hold a grudge.
She just got married on Saturday.
Again. She has been giving Liz Taylor a run for her money… Apparently, this time she married some idiot to make her married lover jealous and hoping that, romantically, he’d find out about it and come stop the wedding, rescue her from a dreadful life with the idiot, save her from herself, leave his wife and live happily ever after. Of course, this would be a good plan if she were a developmentally challenged 12-year-old hooked on soap operas. She’s 45! Her grandchildren know better.
Her dreamboat stayed home with the wife. She decided to go on with the sham, for spite or some other brilliant reason that is unclear to me (but apparently I’m not
that smart). After the travesty, on Monday, she packed up the idiot and dropped him off at her elderly parents for safe keeping or something, because “it just wasn’t working out.”
Through all this, these many years later, the family continues to not only support but also indulge this twit. That pisses me off to extents I cannot even articulate or quantify! So, yeah, maybe it’s better for all involved that I should stay tucked in Brooklyn and far, far away from them…
When babies geek out...
This afternoon in the bus, a one-year-old boy who has yet mastered speech (or at least one of the two languages I speak), waxed poetic on the absolute genius that is the pacifier.
He was an alert little tyke, but clearly a tired one. He lay back on his mother’s lap and watched downtown Brooklyn pass by as the bus traveled towards Bay Ridge. He turned to me and I smiled at him. He took off the pacifier and began to “talk.” It was clear to me hat he was speaking of his beloved pacifier. Therefore, I began to answer him in kind. The pauses were built-in and we were amusing his mother.
He put the pacifier back in his mouth, but then he tried to speak with it in his mouth; realized this was an ineffective form of communication; removed it again and brought it closer to me while pointing out some feature of the device to me.
The conversation resumed, while we both awed at the technological advancements since my day to his, and I told him how I’d loved my own
bobo. This was a rather serious discussion that was interrupted only by the uncontrollable laughter of an older lady sitting next to us, who didn’t so much bother as confuse the child who was discoursing it in earnest.
A city of the future!
I am such a geek!
My friend Barbara sent me a back issue of
IEEE Spectrum. I looked at it with the same wonder an ageless kid experiences when they find an old toy they once loved. I used to read the rag when worked at this high tech PR firm… I loved that job. And I loved those people! I still miss them.
Spectrum’s June issue is on “
megacities” and I found myself instantly engrossed in an article about Shanghai building a sustainable,
green city. It’s certainly possible, but I suppose that communities of this sort would become isolated in some ways. Nevertheless, at the same time, the possibilities are magical. It would be the closest thing to a utopian perfection in my lifetime!
At least that is what I am imagining: a fantastic
eco-city! And that’s the beauty of science and engineering that I think our education system neglects to impart on our kids, that the sciences are a creative endeavor.
The night of the seventh moon...
On the seventh day, during the seventh moon, the magpies leave this earth and fly to the heavens to build a bridge to reunite eternal lovers in the sky. That’s the basic premise of the legend of the Chinese equivalent of
Valentine’s Day.
Theirs is not the only myth involving stars as lovelorn… And I suppose this makes the heavenly maiden and the cowherd one of the original star-crossed lovers.
These stories often were told to explain natural phenomena, and in this case, it explains the seeming closer proximity of the stars Vega and Altair in the night sky and to some extend the magpies molting their head feathers.
The one thing I actually miss is seeing a starry sky. Living in New York, only the brightest and closest stars are visible – but only on very clear evenings. I loved whenever I went to the country (upstate New York, in Cape Cod, in Puerto Rico and in faraway lands away from so-called progress) to look up and see a whole changing template of lines and shapes on which to draw interpretations. (It was just like we did with clouds, but in a far more esoteric way because the song of night invites a new set of storytelling skills to mind.)
But most people rarely look up, I’ve noticed… This is the realm of children, astronomers, poets and romantics. I’m a child at heart.
Soap Operatic Cyberspace
Over at the Star Trek
simm we have been experiencing a rather interesting little ordeal. A former player in a "fleet" headed by the former (deposed) commanding officer plagiarized a mission, word for word, and the first post almost verbatim.
We caught them red-handed; called them on it; they admitted the offense; and then they offered a left-handed apology along with threats to tell
the whole fleet that we were vindictive if we didn’t drop it. Priceless!
"Yeah, we stole it, but there's no need to resort to name-calling..."I find the whole thing appalling and tacky, but some of it has been absurdly funny because of the defective logic inserted into the dialogue.
When arguing there are basic rules of engagement that our nemeses seem to be unaware of, here is a free lesson: indignation--no matter how great or righteous--at a perceived injustice is NOT a moral justification for outright theft (an immorality in itself). It is a simple precept that responsible parents teach any two-year-old: you do not take that which is not yours. We all make mistakes. When an ethical person errs, this person recognizes it, admits her folly, apologizes to any fellow men she has wronged and takes steps to correct her error and to prevent its repetition.
What is the biggest fantasy: starships and phasers and alien worlds or the idea of adults behaving exceptionally to put an end to pettiness?
Finally a little confidence for the road
I am very tired right now. It was a long day!
There is a refreshing lightness in experiencing a vote of confidence given solely on merit.
The way I see it, I’m only half way to serenity and balance. Of course, it’s too early to tell. I should reserve judgment, but I am being an optimist. This week…
It’s purely an intellectual high, my brain seems to have restarted on the dawn of freedom. I don’t ask for everlasting happiness, that’s not sustainable; but it would be nice to enjoy life for a few weeks. Just on GP.
Ceremonial cleansing to celebrate change
Tomorrow is a special cliché to me: the first day of the rest of my life. I’m not going to be unkind because there is no need for it, but I am greatly obliged that with a new day will come a big (and permanent) change.
Change is necessary. Change is cleansing. Change is good!
I’d have a bastardized ceremony of
tōrō nagashi by the river if I didn’t think I’d get arrested for littering! It isn’t so much about guiding a spirit to the other world, as it is about letting go of evil thoughts. They can go with the source of my angst. Where the river takes them is of little consequence as long as it is far from me.
Maybe I’ll just write the offender’s name on some toilet paper, wipe my ass with it and watch it swirl to the neverworld. It’s perfectly symbolic and more eloquent than I could be under the circumstances. (I'm not the forgiving type and it is probably best not to piss me off...)
Magic!
Friday is a blur.
Saturday was about rest and relaxation. I did nothing. I did cook, but it was the culinary equivalent of automatic pilot. I dredged some pork chops in seasoned flour, seared and then steam cooked in a lemon stock. Alongside, potatoes cooked in sautéed capers, garlic and onions, and a peppery chicken stock, topped with fresh parsley and a hint of lemon at the end of cooking – just to add a variation to the theme. I was a bit worried about the chops, because they were thin, but they remained juicy.
Sunday was about complete slumber in body and soul… Then we went to see “Stardust.” I was pleased to see an almost full theater. And I wasn’t too worried about the 2 kids in the audience. (They were well behaved and they loved it.)
The comparisons to “The Princess Bride” are unfair, because they are their own stories, though the share a certain whimsy. It was a very fast 2 hours! And I refuse to give you details because the movie is about those details, tiny little things that are so clever, so witty, so charming and so magical that to spoil them would be an absolute sin. It was sweet and fun and there are images there that are fantastic and will stay with you for a long while. Even Claire Danes was good, and she gets on my nerves – she either has a speech impediment or a ridiculous little affectation that pisses me off. Here she even appeared to have a personality! As for Michelle, she was a witch – no big deal. I don t get all the talk about “courage.” When I see some movement in that forehead, I’ll buy into her hype. She was good, but not as extraordinary as the critics make her seem. Robert DeNiro, on the other hand, was brilliant. Funny, charming, sweet, he was the best pirate ever!
A little bliss, despite it all
It was a painfully long week. It feels like I survived an intense little war! Right now, I suppose I feel like an old soldier. Tired, achy, numb… There is an underlining thrill, of course. But my brain is fried, my nerves are frayed to the extreme and I crave sleep like a junkie jones for smack!
We received good news. We dodged a tornado. The end of the week also brought the face of change and yet-another-set-back in the Shakespearean tragic-comedy that is my path to employment. The ragweed count shot up this week to levels usually reserved for late September to mid-October and my chest is so congested I sound like a dirty muffler. And last night I stepped into the back of an old earring, twice, while barefoot. Time will tell if I end the month of August on antibiotics and the victim of a very large tetanus needle (unlikely).
Despite the apparent drawbacks, if we could call them that, the good news really did overshadow all else and even if my haze, I bask in its glory to this instant and will to the next.
Word from the Matriarch!
Clean bill of health.
Results of breast biopsy: not cancerous.
Blessed be and all that jazz! Thank you, gracias et merci!!!
Image available through Creative Commons
Just another Wednesday...
Do you remember that episode of
Star Trek: The Next Generation called
True Q? Amanda Rogers' parents were executed by the
Q Continuum in the form of a single tornado, which spontaneously appeared over their house in Topeka, KS, destroyed the house, and then disappeared.
Well, I awoke this morning and apparently Brooklyn had turned into a tiny, remote district of Kansas (or victims of Q). A tiny tornado apparently touched down a block away. A block away a dozen trees were uprooted and a lady lost her roof. The roof is gone--they're still looking for the damned thing! A couple of blocks to the south, there was a cave-in and several more houses lost their roofs, one a whole back wall, and more trees were uprooted or split. To the east, more devastation... The tiny park disappeared under dozens of trees and debris.
I listened to the radio in an allergy haze and decided they were talking about some other Brooklyn, some other Bay Ridge, some other Sunset Park.
It had to be! This news came after the
report that a school principal brought in a
Santeria priestess to "drive away bad spirits and negative energy" from her school – including a headless, dead chicken and some funky chanting.
It had to be delirium!We are both fine. We were lucky. We are sandwiched between disaster areas but survived the incident without a scratch. I was stuck here because all transportation from this area was suspended and authorities were left scrambling trying to figure out what the hell happened. Phone service and electricity were interrupted and soon restored. But chaos and clean-up might take a little longer.
Tiny Tempest
"O wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beautious mankind is!
O brave new world
That has such people in't!"
My life has been a tiny tea cup for a long time. Now I have one of those nasty summer colds, probably a falling apart after weeks of building stress that have culminated in the body calling "uncle." But this is nothing! A little congestion, a little pain, I can live with that. Just imagine soma, soma and more soma because there's no reason to be unhappy.
Ended up having a Neil Gaiman minimarathon last night. Watched
Princess Mononoke and
MirrorMask. The first was beautiful and a lovely fantasy. The second I can honestly say was unlike
anything I've ever seen. But mostly, there is a transformation scene that includes a number from
The Carpenters that's certainly going to stay with me for a long, long time.
A weekend of salads
Another scorcher, another salad at Casa de Doom!
We had some leftover chicken wings and those served as the heavy hitter with a pair of salads. The greens included lettuce, minced red onion, pimento-stuffed salad olives, artichoke hearts, avocado and cucumbers. The dressing included olive oil, wine vinegar, coarse-grained mustard with a touch of chili powder for an electrifying finish. The effect was refreshing with different levels of crunchiness. This was sided by two absolutely beautiful and sweet tomatoes, sliced almost paper thin and topped with creamy mozzarella.
Fried Brains!
It was an awfully long week. Mom is finally done with the breast biopsy and she is getting stronger. I got rid of a metaphysical cancerous growth that insists on getting the last word in a battle of wits. Still bringing knives to a gun fight though, so I’m ahead by a dozen three-pointers. (What? You thought I’d take the high road?) I am saying no to tyranny!
I’ve been busy writing, deeply immersed in a new mission with dastardly Borg worse than the usual nemesis!
I got word that the raise was finally approved and it will be retroactive to last month. I won’t see it until maybe next week, but this is excellent news and quite a relief.
I finished the week with a giant Greek salad with shrimp, tomatoes, cucumbers, stuffed grape leaves, shredded lettuce and red onions. The marinade was a simple mix of olive oil, lemon juice and red wine vinegar, with scallions and fresh dill and a dash of cayenne for a little heat and crumbled Feta.
The brain is slightly fried but functional.
Out of phase . . . and back
Today was the day they rescheduled Mom’s breast biopsy. I had planned to take the day off, even as we’d enlisted our friend R to pick Mom up from the hospital – making me the back-up plan.
But this morning, the power of denial couple with an extraordinary imagination rendered me comatose early in the morning. I could have gone into the office, but clearly only the body would be there.
It was a long day. I slept uneasily, on and off, trying not to consciously think of it.
Finally after 3 pm, I called and spoke to the nurse in the recovery room. Mom was there, he informed me, and they’d just spoken to R and everything was okay. There was relief and gratitude, but I needed her here at home. I wrote a short story. I made a carafe of coffee. I made some tuna salad. I watched mindless television. I tried to remain calm. My heart wasn’t in any of it.
I shouldn’t worry, this is a routine procedure and even God – with the help of the Devil, Man and Beast – has tried and has yet to get rid of us. It will take more than a prick to take us down!
Then at 5 pm, the phone rang again. The nurse at the recovery room called to ask if I was on my way because Mom was getting dressed and ready to go. I have never moved at that speed before. In the space of 6 minutes I had combed my hair, got dressed, grabbed the emergency $40 from the kitchen table, called car service and ran out. By the time I hit the stoop, the car was pulling up and in 4 minutes I was at Lutheran holding the door open for Mom, “Your chariot awaits, My Lady!”
She is sore, but she is fine. I’m frayed, but I’m happy. And as there are no atheists in foxholes, there are no agnostics in hospital matters. So I thank the Universe for bringing her back to me and I cling like a toddler with separation anxiety...
Tomorrow we may return to our regularly scheduled cynicism. Tonight we feast on love!
My mission was simple: stop at the specialty food store and pick up their scrumptious sausage patties. I was sadly disappointed. So I walked back, dejected to the bus stop. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spied a sign on the fish store, “Homemade Crab Cakes.”
