In Dave Barry’s Complete Guide to Guys he writes, “To understand guys, it is essential to remember that, deep down inside they are biological creatures, like jellyfish or trees, only less likely to clean the bathroom.” Too true. But in our simplicity we can be efficient. There’s less to clean by leaving the toilet seat up.
New York Times superstar scriber, Maureen Dowd, doesn’t mince words, titling a recent book, Are Men Necessary? Her mother suggested her title be “Why Men Are Necessary” saying, “Men are necessary for breeding and heavy lifting.” Later Dowd debunks the breeding part with an exchange with Brian Sykes, a leading British researcher on sex chromosomes.
“Are men necesssary? I asked Dr. Sykes
‘Clearly not,’ he replied
Are men necessary? I asked British geneticist Steve Jones.
‘You don’t even need the sex slaves,’ Dr. Jones assured me.
‘You only need their cells in a freezer. You’d have to have a very good electricity supply.’ “
I have a one word response to this - British.
Dowd goes on to write, “The latest research on the Y chromosome shows that my jittery male friends are not paranoid. They are in an evolutionary pratfall…The Y chromosome has been shedding genes willy-nilly for millions of years and is now a fraction of the size of its partner, the X chromosome…Size matters, and experts are suggesting that, in the next one hundred thousand to ten million years, men could disappear, taking Maxim, March Madness and cold pizza in the morning with them.” Great, guys got jobbed from the get-go with one each of the Y and X chromosome. Women were gifted two of the X factor. Plus, the X chromosome has 1098 genes to the Y’s paltry 78. Making matters worse, the Y chromosome is smaller and still shrinking. That alone explains viagra.
What, me worry? My faith in evolution fortifies me. It took this long for our Y chromosome to dwindle to dwarf-like, what’s another one hundred thousand to ten million years of devolution? Besides, if women were born into gene wealth, what’s taking them so long to dominate? (About now, I’m heading for cover to avoid the incoming.)
Leave it to an American to stand up for us Y-types. Dr. David Page of the Whitehead Institute for Biomedical Research in Cambridge, Massachusetts calls himself “the defender of the rotting Y chromosome,” saying “I prefer to think of the Y as persevering and noble…not as the Rodney Dangerfield of the human genome.” Dr. Page later concludes, “The Y married up. The X married down.” That pretty much describes my marriage.
We Y-types are “persevering and noble.” When you consider our starter kit, we have made the most of it. Our Y is wimpier, but when comes to the Olympics, professional sports and heavy lifting, who ya gonna call? Regular Y-guys counter their wimpy Y with Smith & Wessons, Harleys, monster trucks, Hummers, triathlons, and when 40-something is in the rearview mirror, viagra.
Infinite changes notwithstanding, I say why fight osmosis? Let’s take our gene-shedding Y chromosome and fight back, chromosome-boosting in the kitchen. Where else can you dice, mince, chop, grate, pound, whip, peel, boil, broil, roast, flame, fry, crush, mash, toss, stuff, shake and bake? Legally. Bring out your inner-chef and come out of the closest. Just remember to bring an apron.
And women need men for more than sperm and heavy lifting. According to Jill Connor Browne’s The Sweet Potato Queens’ Book of Love women want five things from guys:
Someone to talk to
Someone to fix things
Someone to pay for things
Someone to dance with
Someone to have sex with
Or, in my case, I have engineered a blockbuster trade - cooking in lieu of paying for things.
We have to work with the Y’s and wherefores we were given. Compensating by buying a Hummer doesn’t change anything, other than your tank account.
While I’m at it, let me debunk another myth. Men cannot multi-task. Bull. Any male cook worth his Harley-powered Kitchenaid mixer, multi-tasks every meal. Consider - the cocktails are being sipped, the appetizers are being plated, the wine is breathing, the pie is in the oven, the entrée is rubbed and ready for grilling, the sauce is soon to be assembled, the conversation is two-way, the CDs are mood-setting, the muted football game is in the sight-line, and he’s fantasizing about the post-dessert festivities.
That said, I bow down to my sister-in-law who can process three laundry loads, and prepare a five-course meal for 16, all while talking to three friends on the phone.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Reality Bites
This is off-message from my usual postings, but now and then life intercedes in a way that gets my attention.
A few days ago I made a quick run to my regular supermarket – Vons – a California chain owned by the mega-chain, Safeway.
I only needed a few items, so I headed for the quick checkout line. Several people were in front of me, and directly in front of me was an elderly, short, Latina woman. I noted nothing else about her until it was her turn to checkout. She placed on the conveyor belt a single ear of corn.
The employee asked her if she had a Von’s Club card, the kind most stores promote, offering discounts for a litany of items each week. She did not. Yet, the corn was on sale for 25 cents an ear – with a Von’s Club card.
She showed me the 25 cents in her hand. Expecting she would have a problem, I began foraging for coins in my pocket.
To the credit of the Von’s employee, he handed her a Von’s Club card application, and rang up the sale of an ear of corn for 25 cents.
I have no context to this story – I know nothing about her. Our lives only crossed for a moment - a moment that gave me pause.
We all need more moments that give us pause, and touch our souls.
A few days ago I made a quick run to my regular supermarket – Vons – a California chain owned by the mega-chain, Safeway.
I only needed a few items, so I headed for the quick checkout line. Several people were in front of me, and directly in front of me was an elderly, short, Latina woman. I noted nothing else about her until it was her turn to checkout. She placed on the conveyor belt a single ear of corn.
The employee asked her if she had a Von’s Club card, the kind most stores promote, offering discounts for a litany of items each week. She did not. Yet, the corn was on sale for 25 cents an ear – with a Von’s Club card.
She showed me the 25 cents in her hand. Expecting she would have a problem, I began foraging for coins in my pocket.
To the credit of the Von’s employee, he handed her a Von’s Club card application, and rang up the sale of an ear of corn for 25 cents.
I have no context to this story – I know nothing about her. Our lives only crossed for a moment - a moment that gave me pause.
We all need more moments that give us pause, and touch our souls.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Bookish Club
Like most guys, heretofore your reading tastes have not progressed much beyond espionage novels, the wit and wisdom of Yogi Berra, and fart-joke books.
Maybe writing the great American novel is not on your “to do” list, or any tome for that matter, but there is still time to correct that “C” you earned in English Reading and Comprehension. Just be prepared - there are few male heroes in literature, at least literary literature (as contrasted with commercial literature - think Tom Clancy and John Grisham)*. If you need male heroes, read romance novels. I tried once and did not make it past the first chapter, but my romance-novel-addicted-wife forces me to listen to passages all of the time. She may be trying to tell me something.
For the times you cannot laugh at yourself, read anything by Carl Hiaason, or Dave Barry. For you golf gophers, Hiaason just published a non-fiction rant entitled Down Hill Lie.
If joining a book club appeals, I have bad news - you actually have to read 10-11 books a year and mutter something reasonably succinct other than thumbs up or down, or “hated it.”
If you are a male minority member of your book club, be prepared for the pre-discussion gabfest to range from the latest dog obedience school certificates to the pros and cons of tile versus slate versus limestone kitchen countertops.
After a few years, you too can discuss the subtle distinctions between post-modern and southern gothic literature**. Your vocabulary will finally surpass 10th grade level. This strategy, plus the daily crosswords, will replace some of those dead zone brain cells.
If the group picks The Brothers Karanazov, call in sick. If you are having bouts of depression, don’t read anything by Sylvia Plath.
More bad news - you have to host 1-2 times a year. You could dash out and buy prepared grub 1-2 hours in advance, but where’s the challenge in that? Besides, if you failed to finish the monthly selection, you need to redeem yourself with the spread you prepare.
We usually open three wines, two reds and a white. This further makes for a lively discussion. Better parting hugs, too.
Our book club could more appropriately called a Book, Cooking, and Wine Tasting Club. After eight years we could assemble a pretty top-notch collection of recipes.
* The library shelves are quite bare. But, it would be hard to top the modeling of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird, even if he doesn’t cook. Sadly, there are too few Atticus Finches in the world, and in literature.
** Southern Gothic Literature usually deals with the struggles of those oppressed by traditional Southern culture. Southern Gothic authors include Harper Lee, Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner, and Carson McCullers. As for Postmodern Literature, I still haven’t a clue. They let me stay in the club anyway. I think it’s because of my cooking.
Maybe writing the great American novel is not on your “to do” list, or any tome for that matter, but there is still time to correct that “C” you earned in English Reading and Comprehension. Just be prepared - there are few male heroes in literature, at least literary literature (as contrasted with commercial literature - think Tom Clancy and John Grisham)*. If you need male heroes, read romance novels. I tried once and did not make it past the first chapter, but my romance-novel-addicted-wife forces me to listen to passages all of the time. She may be trying to tell me something.
For the times you cannot laugh at yourself, read anything by Carl Hiaason, or Dave Barry. For you golf gophers, Hiaason just published a non-fiction rant entitled Down Hill Lie.
If joining a book club appeals, I have bad news - you actually have to read 10-11 books a year and mutter something reasonably succinct other than thumbs up or down, or “hated it.”
If you are a male minority member of your book club, be prepared for the pre-discussion gabfest to range from the latest dog obedience school certificates to the pros and cons of tile versus slate versus limestone kitchen countertops.
After a few years, you too can discuss the subtle distinctions between post-modern and southern gothic literature**. Your vocabulary will finally surpass 10th grade level. This strategy, plus the daily crosswords, will replace some of those dead zone brain cells.
If the group picks The Brothers Karanazov, call in sick. If you are having bouts of depression, don’t read anything by Sylvia Plath.
More bad news - you have to host 1-2 times a year. You could dash out and buy prepared grub 1-2 hours in advance, but where’s the challenge in that? Besides, if you failed to finish the monthly selection, you need to redeem yourself with the spread you prepare.
We usually open three wines, two reds and a white. This further makes for a lively discussion. Better parting hugs, too.
Our book club could more appropriately called a Book, Cooking, and Wine Tasting Club. After eight years we could assemble a pretty top-notch collection of recipes.
* The library shelves are quite bare. But, it would be hard to top the modeling of Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird, even if he doesn’t cook. Sadly, there are too few Atticus Finches in the world, and in literature.
** Southern Gothic Literature usually deals with the struggles of those oppressed by traditional Southern culture. Southern Gothic authors include Harper Lee, Tennessee Williams, William Faulkner, and Carson McCullers. As for Postmodern Literature, I still haven’t a clue. They let me stay in the club anyway. I think it’s because of my cooking.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Pre-Cruise Regimens
PJ and I are off on a cruise this weekend in the Caribbean. My nephew decided he wanted to get hitched on a beach in St. Lucia. So, you know, family obligations.
Regardless, we are grateful to him and his future bride for giving us another excuse to spend a week with 3500 other people, closely billeted on the world’s largest floating septic tank, surpassed only by aircraft carriers.
The Caribbean islanders call these port-o-call stops “The Invasion of Very Large People Wearing White Nikes.” If you are not large when you board, you will be a few days later.
We are amazed that the happy couple has amassed so many close friends so quickly. I posted a special sign-up page on the Royal Caribbean’s Adventure of the Seas’ website for the “Hans & Tracey St. Lucia Wedding Excursion”. So far 2753 have accepted the invitation. It is a special surprise I arranged for my brother, Hans’ father.
Most importantly, as a veteran of three humongous-ship-cruises, I thought I would share some pre-cruise regimens I have found useful.
· Turn your air conditioner down to 70 degrees. Stay in the house for half an hour, then, if you live in a warmer climate*, go outside for half an hour. Return to your house and repeat this ritual several times a day for the next three days. If you catch a cold…don’t come. If you don’t, you will have built up enough immunity for the cruise. *If from a colder climate, turn on your shower to high heat and stand in the middle of your bathroom without any fans running.
· Buy your favorite adult beverage and drink mass quantities of it over three hours. Vomiting is allowed – you’re in training. Repeat for the next four nights. The key object is to be able to find your key and your room at the end of the evening.
· If married or you have a roommate, move into about 200 square feet or less of space for the next several days. Perform basic living exercises while in the space. Try very hard not to get into each other’s face. Try to find a place to “contribute to the ambiance” discretely. Women will find this easier to do than men. While on the cruise your best bets are the balcony or the bathroom. If billeted in an inside cabin, you’re in foul-air jail.
· Try to go several days without roto-rootering your nose or scratching yourself in your nether region…in public. For guys this is actually impossible. The ship photographers seemingly take pictures of everything. They have no compunction about posting all photos on the ship’s gallery.
· Don’t be bothered that your stateroom attendant makes sculptures out of your pillows, towels or whatever he/she finds available. Hint – do not leave your underwear lying around. They are just angling for bigger tips.
· Visit your local flea market. Practice your negotiating skills. This will prepare you for the island stops and bizarre bazaars. On a cruise stop, paying more than half of the asking price is lame.
· Buy a calypso CD and Bobby Ferrin’s Don’t Worry, Be Happy. Practice your favorite Karaoke numbers to the beat of steel drums.
· Find a local all-you-can-eat buffet and visit it several times over the next few days. Consume mass quantities of everything. The goal is to stretch your stomach. Again, if you vomit, that’s fine. You are in training. Vomiting on the cruise, however, is not permitted, especially on the party balcony.
· Dust off your favorite resort attire and get in the mood early. Just don’t wear it in public. You neighbors will talk. On the cruise you will be part of the Brotherhood of Pasty-faced, and Pasty-legged Men Wearing Hawaiian Shirts.
If you follow these pre-cruise regimens, I guarantee that all will have a memorable time.
Regardless, we are grateful to him and his future bride for giving us another excuse to spend a week with 3500 other people, closely billeted on the world’s largest floating septic tank, surpassed only by aircraft carriers.
The Caribbean islanders call these port-o-call stops “The Invasion of Very Large People Wearing White Nikes.” If you are not large when you board, you will be a few days later.
We are amazed that the happy couple has amassed so many close friends so quickly. I posted a special sign-up page on the Royal Caribbean’s Adventure of the Seas’ website for the “Hans & Tracey St. Lucia Wedding Excursion”. So far 2753 have accepted the invitation. It is a special surprise I arranged for my brother, Hans’ father.
Most importantly, as a veteran of three humongous-ship-cruises, I thought I would share some pre-cruise regimens I have found useful.
· Turn your air conditioner down to 70 degrees. Stay in the house for half an hour, then, if you live in a warmer climate*, go outside for half an hour. Return to your house and repeat this ritual several times a day for the next three days. If you catch a cold…don’t come. If you don’t, you will have built up enough immunity for the cruise. *If from a colder climate, turn on your shower to high heat and stand in the middle of your bathroom without any fans running.
· Buy your favorite adult beverage and drink mass quantities of it over three hours. Vomiting is allowed – you’re in training. Repeat for the next four nights. The key object is to be able to find your key and your room at the end of the evening.
· If married or you have a roommate, move into about 200 square feet or less of space for the next several days. Perform basic living exercises while in the space. Try very hard not to get into each other’s face. Try to find a place to “contribute to the ambiance” discretely. Women will find this easier to do than men. While on the cruise your best bets are the balcony or the bathroom. If billeted in an inside cabin, you’re in foul-air jail.
· Try to go several days without roto-rootering your nose or scratching yourself in your nether region…in public. For guys this is actually impossible. The ship photographers seemingly take pictures of everything. They have no compunction about posting all photos on the ship’s gallery.
· Don’t be bothered that your stateroom attendant makes sculptures out of your pillows, towels or whatever he/she finds available. Hint – do not leave your underwear lying around. They are just angling for bigger tips.
· Visit your local flea market. Practice your negotiating skills. This will prepare you for the island stops and bizarre bazaars. On a cruise stop, paying more than half of the asking price is lame.
· Buy a calypso CD and Bobby Ferrin’s Don’t Worry, Be Happy. Practice your favorite Karaoke numbers to the beat of steel drums.
· Find a local all-you-can-eat buffet and visit it several times over the next few days. Consume mass quantities of everything. The goal is to stretch your stomach. Again, if you vomit, that’s fine. You are in training. Vomiting on the cruise, however, is not permitted, especially on the party balcony.
· Dust off your favorite resort attire and get in the mood early. Just don’t wear it in public. You neighbors will talk. On the cruise you will be part of the Brotherhood of Pasty-faced, and Pasty-legged Men Wearing Hawaiian Shirts.
If you follow these pre-cruise regimens, I guarantee that all will have a memorable time.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Grillin' and Chillin'
This is inaugural weekend for grillin’ and chillin’ – igniting the grill monster, and chillin’ on the patio.
Our dog is especially fond of this annual launch – he knows more pats are in store – his tail in perpetual motion. He is less enthusiastic while I’m around the barbecue. Experience has taught him that something will go awry, so he cowers in his pen while I fume over the flames and flare-ups.
Yesterday I braised (in traditional kitchen fashion) some short ribs with parsnips, red onion, garlic, rosemary, beef stock and zinfandel. Yes, I tasted the zinfandel first; just to make sure it wasn’t spit-out vintage Thursday. Forgive me, for I have zinned.
The side I chose was grill-roasted vegetables with pine nut pesto. While I have an in-door grill, I heard the siren call of the season and decided to grill outside. The vegetables were cubed parsnips, carrots, brussels sprouts (try cubing those), butternut squash, and shallots, with a few thyme sprigs tossed in. Brussels sprouts is one of my anti-guy foods, but mixed in with other veggies is tolerable. I find parsnips pretty bland as well but pine nut pesto can salvage most anything.
Both recipes are from Food and Wine Magazine. I usually faithfully follow a first-timer recipe. Then I begin making changes. Next time - no parsnips in the short ribs recipe*. Maybe sweet potatoes instead – and in the roasted vegetable dish as well.
I like most root vegetables but parsnips, turnips and rutabagas have more subtle flavors – a bit too subtle for my taste. I’ll keep rutabagas in the mix because a veggie with such a great name must be consumed now and then.
The first dance with the grill monster went fairly well – it led, I followed.
Last season I made the mistake of buying some briquettes that were so chemically soaked that they ignited before I even reached for the match, soon spouting more flames than the Shrek dragon. They also threw off my timing. Thinking I needed about 30 minutes for the coals to be ready, I returned to the kitchen for other prep work. Wrong.
I haven’t decided how I will prepare the New York steaks tonight. I have fallen in love with simple technique using a cast iron skillet – searing them in canola oil on the stove, and finishing them (still skilleted) in the oven at 350 degrees for about two minutes per side, with some butter, garlic and thyme. Sea salt is preferred. Maybe tonight I’ll put the skillet on the grill monster. Live on the edge, I always say.
Sunday night I’m doing a whole chicken outside, not beer can, but something similar using white wine as the enema. Sorry – infusion.
PJ is mildly amused each barbecue season. She’s guessing that it will take another 10 years for me to earn my barbecue eagle badge. I have noted that she never ventures near the grill monster. She gets to chill, while I grill.
The good news is that I’m not so old that the singed arm and eyebrow hair won’t grow back.
*There is a reason that the Simon & Garfunkel hit was not entitled “Parsnips, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme”.
Our dog is especially fond of this annual launch – he knows more pats are in store – his tail in perpetual motion. He is less enthusiastic while I’m around the barbecue. Experience has taught him that something will go awry, so he cowers in his pen while I fume over the flames and flare-ups.
Yesterday I braised (in traditional kitchen fashion) some short ribs with parsnips, red onion, garlic, rosemary, beef stock and zinfandel. Yes, I tasted the zinfandel first; just to make sure it wasn’t spit-out vintage Thursday. Forgive me, for I have zinned.
The side I chose was grill-roasted vegetables with pine nut pesto. While I have an in-door grill, I heard the siren call of the season and decided to grill outside. The vegetables were cubed parsnips, carrots, brussels sprouts (try cubing those), butternut squash, and shallots, with a few thyme sprigs tossed in. Brussels sprouts is one of my anti-guy foods, but mixed in with other veggies is tolerable. I find parsnips pretty bland as well but pine nut pesto can salvage most anything.
Both recipes are from Food and Wine Magazine. I usually faithfully follow a first-timer recipe. Then I begin making changes. Next time - no parsnips in the short ribs recipe*. Maybe sweet potatoes instead – and in the roasted vegetable dish as well.
I like most root vegetables but parsnips, turnips and rutabagas have more subtle flavors – a bit too subtle for my taste. I’ll keep rutabagas in the mix because a veggie with such a great name must be consumed now and then.
The first dance with the grill monster went fairly well – it led, I followed.
Last season I made the mistake of buying some briquettes that were so chemically soaked that they ignited before I even reached for the match, soon spouting more flames than the Shrek dragon. They also threw off my timing. Thinking I needed about 30 minutes for the coals to be ready, I returned to the kitchen for other prep work. Wrong.
I haven’t decided how I will prepare the New York steaks tonight. I have fallen in love with simple technique using a cast iron skillet – searing them in canola oil on the stove, and finishing them (still skilleted) in the oven at 350 degrees for about two minutes per side, with some butter, garlic and thyme. Sea salt is preferred. Maybe tonight I’ll put the skillet on the grill monster. Live on the edge, I always say.
Sunday night I’m doing a whole chicken outside, not beer can, but something similar using white wine as the enema. Sorry – infusion.
PJ is mildly amused each barbecue season. She’s guessing that it will take another 10 years for me to earn my barbecue eagle badge. I have noted that she never ventures near the grill monster. She gets to chill, while I grill.
The good news is that I’m not so old that the singed arm and eyebrow hair won’t grow back.
*There is a reason that the Simon & Garfunkel hit was not entitled “Parsnips, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme”.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Breaking Fast
I just had one of my favorite breakfasts, and it included a leftover. For the record, my fast lasted 12 hours. That’s enough fasting for me.
The basics are pancetta, scrambled eggs, and dill hollandaise sauce.
Pancetta is Italian bacon - not easy to find. It is cured with salt and spices but not usually smoked. How discernible is pancetta from good old-fashioned American porkers? Very little. But because of its Italian lineage, stores can charge more.
Trader Joes sells four-ounce packages of diced pancetta. Dill hollandaise is a basic hollandaise recipe with 1-2 tablespoons of finely chopped fresh dill added to the blender just prior to slowly pouring in the melted butter.
The dill hollandaise was leftover from an asparagus recipe I prepared for guests over the weekend. The asparagus is sprinkled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and baked in a baking dish at 400 degrees for 15-20 minutes. The time depends on the thickness of the stalks. Asparagus doneness is a matter of taste. If you pick up a stalk and it collapses like al dente* spaghetti, it is over-cooked. You won’t even need teeth to process it. Process? That would be eating. Fork-tender is usually a good indicator.
The dill hollandaise is served on the side at the table. It is a rich sauce, so don’t water-board the asparagus with it.
For breakfast, first sauté a couple ounces of pancetta for 4-5 minutes, to a crispness similar to the way you like your bacon. Whip up whatever portion of scrambled eggs is needed for one person, or as hungry as you may be. Blend the eggs and pancetta together until the eggs are done (the whites of the eggs disappear), then top with the reheated dill hollandaise. There is a fair amount of salt in the pancetta and in the dill hollandaise mixture, so this concoction probably doesn’t need any more seasoning.
For two or more, simply adjust the pancetta and scrambled eggs’ portions.
*Al dente is a method of pasta preparation perfected by the noted Italian chef, Al Dente.
The basics are pancetta, scrambled eggs, and dill hollandaise sauce.
Pancetta is Italian bacon - not easy to find. It is cured with salt and spices but not usually smoked. How discernible is pancetta from good old-fashioned American porkers? Very little. But because of its Italian lineage, stores can charge more.
Trader Joes sells four-ounce packages of diced pancetta. Dill hollandaise is a basic hollandaise recipe with 1-2 tablespoons of finely chopped fresh dill added to the blender just prior to slowly pouring in the melted butter.
The dill hollandaise was leftover from an asparagus recipe I prepared for guests over the weekend. The asparagus is sprinkled with olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper and baked in a baking dish at 400 degrees for 15-20 minutes. The time depends on the thickness of the stalks. Asparagus doneness is a matter of taste. If you pick up a stalk and it collapses like al dente* spaghetti, it is over-cooked. You won’t even need teeth to process it. Process? That would be eating. Fork-tender is usually a good indicator.
The dill hollandaise is served on the side at the table. It is a rich sauce, so don’t water-board the asparagus with it.
For breakfast, first sauté a couple ounces of pancetta for 4-5 minutes, to a crispness similar to the way you like your bacon. Whip up whatever portion of scrambled eggs is needed for one person, or as hungry as you may be. Blend the eggs and pancetta together until the eggs are done (the whites of the eggs disappear), then top with the reheated dill hollandaise. There is a fair amount of salt in the pancetta and in the dill hollandaise mixture, so this concoction probably doesn’t need any more seasoning.
For two or more, simply adjust the pancetta and scrambled eggs’ portions.
*Al dente is a method of pasta preparation perfected by the noted Italian chef, Al Dente.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Shopping Redux
Grocery shopping is not an Olympic event. Though now that there are so many guy shoppers and ESPN has so many channels with programming needs, this could be a reality show just waiting for a sponsor. When men get involved, a contest will soon follow. Consider the Food Networks Iron Chef competition.
Ever heard of speed golf? There’s already a grocery bag packing contest, and contests for packing as much food in a cart as you can in a limited timeframe. Why not speed shopping?
But until that time comes, grocery shopping is not for mag wheels and 100-horse-powered carts. If you must set records, compete against yourself. Just remember that there are old ladies and children in the aisle. Most of them have lawyers.
Be patient moving up and down the aisles, even if you’re on a timetable. For many shoppers it is the highlight of their day and they treat it as a special occasion, bordering on a religious experience. Those will be the ones always in front of you.
For guys, it is a hunt (consider it gathering), strictly for pre-determined essentials, with no browsing or impulse buying permitted.
Make a list. Remember to take it with you. Check it thrice. After a fashion (if you forgot the list) you can remember most if not all of the items, especially if you make the trip up and down each aisle. (Be alert - - just when you’ve figured out where most things are, they re-merchandize the store.) I cannot emphasize enough the need to make a list.
First, you’ll be less tempted by spur-of-the-moment purchases, and you can blow right by the end-aisle come-ons. Second, check it again when you think you’re finished. Don’t just scan it, READ IT! Otherwise this drama will play out. You are in the middle of a sauce preparation. You read the next ingredient and realize you forgot to buy it. Sauces are sensitive. Turning off the heat and rushing to the store makes for sorry sauces, let alone the three other courses you were in the midst of preparing. You could send your wife, but if she’s anything like PJ, she’ll take an hour to do what you could do in 15 minutes, and she will return with a bag-full of stuff you don’t need.
Check to make sure she didn’t stow something somewhere before waltzing into the kitchen. Snackers are notorious for hiding snacks.
Ever heard of speed golf? There’s already a grocery bag packing contest, and contests for packing as much food in a cart as you can in a limited timeframe. Why not speed shopping?
But until that time comes, grocery shopping is not for mag wheels and 100-horse-powered carts. If you must set records, compete against yourself. Just remember that there are old ladies and children in the aisle. Most of them have lawyers.
Be patient moving up and down the aisles, even if you’re on a timetable. For many shoppers it is the highlight of their day and they treat it as a special occasion, bordering on a religious experience. Those will be the ones always in front of you.
For guys, it is a hunt (consider it gathering), strictly for pre-determined essentials, with no browsing or impulse buying permitted.
Make a list. Remember to take it with you. Check it thrice. After a fashion (if you forgot the list) you can remember most if not all of the items, especially if you make the trip up and down each aisle. (Be alert - - just when you’ve figured out where most things are, they re-merchandize the store.) I cannot emphasize enough the need to make a list.
First, you’ll be less tempted by spur-of-the-moment purchases, and you can blow right by the end-aisle come-ons. Second, check it again when you think you’re finished. Don’t just scan it, READ IT! Otherwise this drama will play out. You are in the middle of a sauce preparation. You read the next ingredient and realize you forgot to buy it. Sauces are sensitive. Turning off the heat and rushing to the store makes for sorry sauces, let alone the three other courses you were in the midst of preparing. You could send your wife, but if she’s anything like PJ, she’ll take an hour to do what you could do in 15 minutes, and she will return with a bag-full of stuff you don’t need.
Check to make sure she didn’t stow something somewhere before waltzing into the kitchen. Snackers are notorious for hiding snacks.
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