Category Archives: Cooking

Spinal flux, Irish BBQ, and the Fourth from a distance

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Happy Fourth! I’m sitting outside, gagging on the smell of citronella-torch smoke, wiping rain off my iPad screen, but certainly enjoying the occasional wafts of heavenly scent coming from our Weber grill.

I’m beginning to wonder if I should have imported my husband to America, instead of exporting myself to Ireland. He goes craaazeee for American holidays. We don’t have a big US flag, just a tiny one onna stick, but we do have two flag bandannas. One of which is hanging in our front window:

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With, of course, Neko the American Akita standing guard under it.

The Fourth wouldn’t be complete without a barbecue. We are back on the low-carb diet (not because of the scale, but because our clothes weren’t fitting any more – been off the diet since April, whoops) so tonight is a meat-feast. Craft butcher sausages from our local butcher, ribs from him also, and best of all, beer-butt chicken. Here’s the scene before cooking:

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Chicken is rubbed inside and out with butter, olive oil, lemon, and my mixture of spices from our garden: sage, thyme, garlic, basil and oregano. And, of course, there’s a can of beer shoved up it’s arse. Or what used to be its arse… Oh and the tuna-can has wood chips in, for smoking. Nom!

We’ve never made the chicken before. Never had a grill big enough until he came home one day with his much-lusted-after Weber. I can’t wait to try it! It takes a while, and hubby made a huge mess during prep. Better be worth it…

So… We both took the day off today, because today happened to be the day I got to talk to someone about the results of my MRI. Finally. Been ages since this journey into WTF is wrong with my back started.

And as it turns out, not very much. I do have one disc that is dried up and cracked and so is squishing out through the crack and bulging a bit. To the right. My nerve issues are nearly all on my left side. Doc couldn’t see any reason that the bulge on the right would be pressing on a nerve on the left. So, surgery was 100% ruled out. Nothing to operate on. He did offer what I had been told were ‘shots’ but actually is an epidural. I agreed, even though I have no idea what they might be pumping into my spinal fluid, and it probably won’t help. If it does, then they know a nerve is indeed being squarshed and that’s a valuable bit of knowledge, to me. Because if the nerve isn’t being pinched at the spine, just what the hell is the issue? Cuz my leg burrrns. Or aches like it is bruised, or itches in a way that can’t be scratched.

But I can live with the leg being wonky. I can’t live with this backache. I can’t do anything! I’m only 40, not too chubby, and like doing things with my hands. When I can’t even do the things I have to do, like the damn dishes, without needing to go sit down for a while, what chance do I have for doing fun things like vacuuming the car? And YES, dammit, that is fun, sort of – I love me a clean car, and I’m in the bitch more than anyone else these days.

Oooooh the sun just came out! I can taste it! Seriously, I can open my mouth and feel the sun on my tongue and oh, I need the sunshine. My current music (hubby testing songs for tomorrow’s radio show, with a USA theme, surprised?) is The Pogues, The Body of an American – “I’m a free-born man of the USA” first heard by me on The Wire. Apparently it’s a wake song; if so – play it for me when I go, please?

Back to the back. Needle in 4-6 weeks, and probably another day off of work. Be interesting to see what result, if any, I get. In the meantime they said my issue appears to be muscular. My lower spine has very little curve to it. Doc said this is because the muscles are supposed to pull tight and make the curve, but mine are weak and haven’t been doing the job. I asked about any options to strengthen the muscles that might be provided by the HSE – none. So Pilates on my iPad it is then, I guess. I can’t afford classes with someone to show me how to do it right – even though I have never done regulated exercises and I doubt I do them right. Only time I ever tried anything close was the Haidong Kumdo and that is what really, really fucked my back up! Even with an instructor. Imagine what I can do to myself, by myself!

Right, just had a looong pause while taking the chicken off the grill. I love crispy skin – the only fatty thing I eat and like – only if crispy! Had to run in and peel the chook, because if you leave the skin on the bird it goes soggy. I have to say the crispness is a bit lacking, so I scraped off the oooky fatty bits and we’ll put the skin back on the grill for a bit, because the ribs and sausages aren’t quite done yet. Last photo before I went inside:

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Had a little taste of the chicken. WOW. Oh yeah, baby.

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Nothing in there for dogs, sorry Neko!

Pancake Tuesday… with a twist

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Today is Pancake Tuesday! Are YOU having pancakes for dinner? We are!

I’m not sure how many countries actually have a Pancake Tuesday. I’m sure the ‘real’ Fat Tuesday is similar… but in Ireland, they call it Pancake Tuesday. Without Googling the official reason, here’s my version of the reason why, as filtered through what my hubby told me nearly seven years ago:

It’s a Catholic thing. Because you were meant to give up yummy things for Lent, you used up all the eggs and flour and sugar the night before Ash Wednesday, so it wasn’t in your house to tempt you. What better way to use these ingredients than by making a passel of pancakes?

So, I’m not a Catholic and wasn’t raised that way. Hubby isn’t a Catholic either, but he was raised that way, and has had a lifetime of traditionally having pancakes for dinner one particular Tuesday a year. (He was just telling me the day is yet another pagan festival day that has been usurped.) Hence, we make pancakes (or, he does, because I don’t have the patience) – but we don’t do it for any other reason than tradition and it’s a bit of fun – and, of course, because they are soooo tasty.

The problem is… we are on a low-to-no carb diet. What to do? Well, there are tons of versions of low-carb ‘cakes out there. He’s been doing it long enough that now he has his own version. I’m not privy to the details, but I know it involves eggs, vanilla, possibly whey powder, and ricotta cheese. And they are fantastic, especially with my home-grown blueberries from the year before all throughout. You’d never know they were low carb. I’m smelling them cooking now, and they even smell like ‘normal’ pancakes.

As an American, I can’t get into just sprinkling sugar (or Splenda) on top of my pancakes. I might cheat on the diet and use some of my precious Mrs Butterworth’s syrup on mine. Just a little, though.

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Chicken with shrooms n beans n bacon

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I thought I’d share a recipe that I made up all by myself. I’m sure it is quite similar to loads of other ones; but this one is mine. It doesn’t have a name. When iDJ requested it for dinner tonight, I think he just called it ‘the chicken mushroom thing.’ No apologies for it being very salty, tasty, and rich…and rather American, probably…

Firstly: we like to take our time when cooking. We nearly always cook from scratch and we are never in a hurry. We never want to eat within twenty minutes of starting to cook. The main reason for this is that we both like to sit on our respective arses and have a drink and relax while the food is busy making itself edible. Cooking is fun and relaxing and never, ever, a pressured event.

Secondly: we are on a low carb diet, to recover from the Christmas fat we both piled on. We eat low-carb year round, excepting the holidays. This is a meal we’d have any time, more in colder months perhaps. But it is not high fat – low carb doesn’t mean high-fat to us.

Thirdly: it involves meat. Sorry, I know some of my readers don’t partake. Perhaps you’ll come along for the laugh, anyway.

Okay! Take some chicken, and cut it up into bite sized chunks. Stir fry it in oil with garlic, coarse ground black pepper, and parsley. I do grow both garlic and parsley, but it’s winter and I’m not going outside in the dark right now to get some. I don’t feel like cleaning and chopping, either, it’s Friday. So, straight out of the jars tonight. How much? Hell if I know. I just dump it on until it looks good. I usually add more garlic if it doesn’t smell garlicky enough while the chicken is browning. I love me some garlic.

While that’s going on, clean and cut up a punnet of fresh mushrooms. Hmm, my iPad doesn’t know the word punnet. It’s what I call the little plastic box they come in from the shop. A couple of handfuls, then. I like to cut them in big chunks, not thin sliced. Pretty much just cut em in half, unless they are huge. What kind? I don’t know. Have fun with it. Probably not portobellos, though.

When the chicken is sort of/mostly browned or cooked, reduce the heat down to low, and dump in a can of condensed cream of mushroom soup. I prefer Campbell’s brand. Add some water, or milk, or cream, whatever you want. Not a whole can of water, etc, though. You want it kind of thick and goopy. Add the mushrooms and stir it all together, making sure the shrooms are coated. They will add more water to the soup-sauce while they cook, too. Cover the pan.

Go sit on your arse for a bit, and have a drink. This part can take as long as you like. Have two!

Stir the goop whenever you think about it, or when getting yourself a fresh drink. You wouldn’t want it to stick. But if it does, no big deal. It will still taste good. Just add some more liquid, it’ll be grand. If it is too wet, take the lid off and the liquid will steam away.

If you’re industrious, you can open a can of cannelini beans and let them drain in a sieve. You can also start microwaving some bacon. Use ‘streaky’ bacon, the American kind: not Canadian or Irish or English bacon. That stuff is too thick. You want it thin and crispy, but not burnt. The microwave is best for this, if you can keep it from sticking to the paper towels and annoying the hell out of you. The reason for the bacon is two-fold: mushrooms and bacon are made for each other, and the dish needs some crunchy texture.

Eventually, when you feel like it, add the drained – but not rinsed – cannelini beans. Dont rinse them, because bean-juice is a natural sauce thickener. You don’t want to add the beans too soon, because stirring the goop with the beans in is bad for the beans. They break and lose their skins; it just isn’t pretty. Be gentle when stirring the food after the beans are in. This is harder the more drinks you’ve had. Or easier, if you are getting sleepy.

Let it sit and simmer a while longer. Unless you’re hungry. In that case, you only have to wait until the beans are hot. It’s up to you. Me, I’m having another drink or two. I’ve made half the bacon, the other half is cooling in the nuker. I should probably peel it free of the paper and turn the microwave back on for another couple of minutes. But, I’m writing this. It’ll keep.

Let’s see… now I have to think of the next step instead of writing down what I’ve already done… good thing we’re almost done.

Scoop into bowls, and crumble the bacon on top at the very last minute. It really does need the crunch. Everything else has almost the exact same texture by now. Oh, I might add some more parsley before I serve it. I forgot parsley entirely once and the meal wasn’t the same.

I’d post a picture, but it isn’t nearly ready because I lied a little. I haven’t even put the beans in yet. And my glass is empty…

How to Roast a Chicken – With Jokes!

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iDJ and I perform what I think of as tag-team cooking. For one meal, I have my cooking tasks and he has his. For example, I cut up the peppers but he cuts up the mushrooms. These rules are not set in stone but rather the way we’ve worked out how to share cooking duties.

When we roast a chicken he gets his hands dirty and I do the spices. He picks off any feathers, and rubs oil over the whole bird. I do the spices on one side, he waits, then he flips the bird and oils the other side. Then he can wash up. Saves us both having to get raw chicken yuck on our hands and/or saves him from having to wash his hands several times. Pretty efficient, we think!

Tonight he got a little ahead of me and took out the spice jars in advance. I sprinkle on salt, pepper, garlic, oregano, basil and thyme. Sometimes not all of the green ones, but he had them out so I used them all.

Then I noticed he had both types of thyme on the counter. One is chopped, one is ground to a fine powder. So I told him, for his future reference, that I only use one thyme at a time.

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Yes, we are that nerdy.

International food shenanigans

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I’m grinning like crazy right now. The little group of international blow-ins that I (unintentionally) named is KIBIS really taking off. It consists of me, from the US; a Canadian, an Italian, and our newest member is Japanese.

Our KIBIS group today decided to have a ‘KIBIS Christmas Gala Dinner’ on the 14th Dec. I suggested we make and bring food from our respective countries. This is going to be an interesting meal!

Italy: either sage stuffed roast chicken with walnut bread, or lasagne. (I’m hoping for lasagne, I haven’t had it in years.)
Canada: sweet potatoes with cranberries and maple syrup (Wow! I think I’m salivating just typing that.)
Japan: a variety of sushi (Okay, I’m a newbie at sushi. Hope I don’t make an ass of myself.)
USA: cornbread and DethNog.

Since the last two are obviously mine, I have more than a parenthetical comment to offer.

I’ve never made cornbread, unless you count Jiffy Mix. I don’t know if I can even get cornmeal here! I might end up going with my second option, buttermilk biscuits.

Proper southern recipes for either one are now being taken. I don’t have a clue…

The eggnog, however, is a classic family concoction. I have my dad’s instructions for this brew, and it is POTENT! Our tradition is to write on the jug ‘death nog’, because one morning mom put it in her coffee instead of milk. Wheee! Work today is so much more fun than usual!

I usually draw a skull n crossbones in a Santa hat on the jug, to keep it coffee-safe. Last year I had two, one was a cat and one a dog.

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Hmm, it seems I left the ‘deth’ part off last year.

Anyhow, if I could be bothered to dig it out, and had my dad’s permission, I’d give you the recipe. But I can’t, and I don’t. Maybe if someone asks nicely I will. Tomorrow, when I’m less giddy.

From pies to skies

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Right! Turkey is stuffed and in the oven, the pies are done, the whipped cream has been beaten within a micron of its life. I’m ensconced in front of a fire with both cats vying for lap space and my rum n Pepsi close to hand. iDJ is playing his Thanksgiving special in the kitchen and the tunes are good. I could get to like this Thanksgiving thing. Even if it’s a few days late.

Huh. I just realised that I’ve managed to teach my iPad the difference between it’s and its, for the most part (it added an apostrophe to the second one just then). I hope I don’t start to trust its opinion. It got it right that time, too! Now, if it will only stop capitalising white I’ll be happy… and it just didn’t. Yay!

My pie filling looks lumpy. I’m sure it will taste fine, but they aren’t all shiny and smooth like I expected. The pumpkins weren’t pie pumpkins, and I didn’t purée them before freezing, and they were too wet. Oh well, something is better than nothing, and I’m sure they won’t be fed to the dog!

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I uploaded a few pics from the proper camera onto the iPad. Here’s my girl Neko about to drink the extremely nasty looking water in our town square’s sculpture/fountain.

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Them’s my legs. Just before this was taken, we had someone get out of their car to ask about her. We gave him a short lesson about the difference between American Akitas and Japanese Akitas. The easy answer is that if the dog’s face is black, it’s an American. If not, you have to register your dog on the dangerous breeds list in Ireland and walk her with a muzzle. I also told him the official name for her coat coloration is ‘pinto.’ cool, eh? I have an American dog named the Japanese word for cat with the markings of a horse. No wonder she’s a bit neurotic. You can tell she’s worried all the time just from this picture.

Here’s Lokii looking confused. He looks like this quite often. Compared to his ginormous butt, his head is too small, so I don’t think there’s a lot of room for brains in there. Poor Lokes, someone has to be the dumbest in the house, and it is you. Love you anyway.

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I took a couple pics of our sunset tonight, too. The color is wrong, I think it looked more purple and yellow than the camera shows. Rats. In any case, that’s the view out the front of our house.

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A little bit of sappiness, if you don’t mind? I’m thankful for every funny, smart, kind, artistic person I’ve met through my blog. X

Avoidance baking

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I should be doing ‘stuff.’ I was, in fact, doing stuff a few minutes ago. Now I’m sitting in the sun and writing. It’s too nice out here and I don’t want to go in and cook.

I’m doing Thanksgiving today. We got a turkey for €5 and saved it for the occasion. Turkeys are easy, I’m not worried about it, or the mashed potatoes, or the sweet potatoes.

What I’m not looking forward to is making pumpkin pies.

I’m a pretty poor baker. I always think it will be so easy and fun. Instead I end up with a huge mess, no counter space to work in, and cat hair liberally distributed through the either burned or undercooked dessert. It’s like sewing or knitting: I really want to do it, but some part of me just isn’t up to the challenge. It’s time I accept my limitations, everyone in the house will be happier without hearing me screaming curses at inanimate objects.

The dog leaves the kitchen entirely when I start rattling pans, the poor neurotic girl. Can’t imagine why.

Anyhoo, I have 14 cups of pumpkin frozen from my Halloween jack-o-lanterns. A pie only uses two cups, so I can make seven pies! Yay for me! I’m not making seven today, just two. And I doubt I’ll share with anyone but the hubby because I love pumpkin pie and it is rare to get the gourd here at all.

Wish me luck, I’m going in…unless I can think of a few more things in the garden that need tidying up.

Oh! How crazy is this: one of my blueberry bushes has flowers. This is not good! I hope I still get fruit next summer.

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Dinner will be late tonight

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It’s 9:45pm. I’ve been reading, checking the classifieds in the local papers, and smoking too much in front of the fireplace. I needed another drink (cheap non-brand rum n Pepsi Max, since you ask) and went to pour myself one in the kitchen, as you do.

The oven is on. iDJ is making Cajun spiced roast chicken breast for dinner. I had helped put the spices on the meat at 8:30, so he didn’t have to wash his hands a bazillion times. Poor didums got cajun spice and chicken ook in the numerous cuts that he managed to give himself today. There was much whining and ouching and a FB post. Anyhow, he wanted to let it sit ten minutes to let the rub ‘marinate’ or whatever a rub does to soak into the meat. If that is even possible.

At 9:45… the roasting pan full of meat is still on the counter.

All we could do was laugh. And FB post. And now, oh joy! blog…

The reason for the name iDJ is: he’s a complete Apple Nerd and he’s an Internet and pub/club DJ. Apple had some launchy-thingie tonight, and he was watching that while listening to new music and prepping for his next Internet show… he can multitask! but apparently not so much as to include shoving a pan in an oven.

Love you anyway!

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