Through Thick and Thin

That should have been in our wedding vows, just like the "for richer, for poorer" thing. For almost 18 years now, my darling has told me that I am beautiful, that I am not fat - regardless of what mad thing I have done to my hair or whether I was a size six or a size, er, XL.
I have managed to creep too close to XXL for comfort and my handsome Charlie has also grown expansive across the middle. Since he has more potential complications based on health as far as diets go I told him to ask his doctor what she recommended. She promoted Atkins, so carbs have nearly disappeared from my life. His too, for that matter!

Luckily, we like meat. Especially BEEFS! Grilled steaks make me happy, and if he has over-cooked them I mix up my version of Tzatzki sauce or chimichurri sauce for a minor carb flavor boost. Today began our 8th day of Atkins Induction and we have been good except for Friday and Saturday night and our failings then were small. Charlie's 45th class reunion was this past weekend and we had decided we were going to drink, but cautiously.
I took a couple of flavors of Mio with me with which to flavor Vodka and water and Charlie was going to stick with Crown Royal and diet Coke.
But it was Cinco de Mayo. And he had to have a margarita! Or three...and since he was going off the reservation I followed, opting for grapefruit juice in my vodka after my first Mio and V.  Saturday night I poured a glass of my favorite jug wine and thought for a second that I had gotten a bad jug. It tasted like kerosene smells.
I hadn't had a glass of wine in a week and my tastebuds had developed a dislike for what I used to drink every day.
That is good. Even though low in carbs, wine has calories enough to slow weight loss and my body has to burn through the booze carbs before it heads for fat stores.
This is just to get my hands used to channeling thoughts onto a screen again and will face some heavy re-writing soon:)

A Lazy Day

I've been remiss in posting but I have been busy living and working but today...today was a beautifully lazy day.
Charlie got home from Vegas on Thursday night. He'd been at the National Association of Broadcaster's convention and had a large time but was tired. He went to work Friday and had to do a lot of catching up so he came home even more tired yesterday afternoon.I worked in Gulf County on Friday and came home knackered myself.
We slept in today, waking up to a rainy morning and lethargic cats.

So we found a good disaster movie and snuggled into our respective favorite "nests" (he in his lounger, I in my reclined couch) and watched. I can't remember the last time we were so completely committed to doing Nothing. We talked desultorily about food neither of us wanted to cook and decided that we would go to an oyster bar in Lynn Haven.                  

This place is only open on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays and not even then when the owner doesn't feel the need to crack oysters and steam crawfish.                                      The place is an old filling station (it pre-dates the term "gas station") with a bar, hard stools, repurposed fast food store booths and a soda station that faces the customer service area to facilitate the self-service expected for all but those consuming alcoholic beverages. Charlie had a diet coke, I decided to have one my my rare beers and we both ordered two dozen raw. I like mine on the tiny side, with nothing but a little lemon squeezed onto them. He dresses his with hot sauce, cocktail sauce and horseradish.

We sat and watched the rain fall again and the few other folks out on this drizzly afternoon who were willing to get damp for surly service and non-fancy seafood. A trio of travelers came in from a very large motorcoach in search of Apalachicola oysters; we assured them that they were in the right place. Two men and a woman, the younger of the two men (probably 60-ish)  asked if the place had "Ying-Ying" beer. The owner speaks all varieties of Southern and understood the man to want a Yuengling beer. The two men of the party amiably discussed the virtues and downfalls of oysters from Mobile Bay, Bayou La Battre, and the west coast and the overall supremacy of the Apalach Oyster for its saltiness, richness, firmness and general deliciousness. I have to agree.

The lady of the group wandered the room and read the newsclippings on the wall about gators caught in lakes, sharks in the bay, and other assorted outdoor accomplishments. 

Other people wandered in to buy take-out crawfish and raw shrimp. The owner said he'd bought 6 more bags of crawfish than he normally did and was still all sold out of live ones by Friday. He put one bag (about 40 pounds) aside for the dine-in clients  and steamed up 5 pounds for the ladies seeking live ones. The big man who wanted raw shrimp had to wait while our oysters were shucked by the father and daughter team running the bar.

They are the kind of people who smile rarely, but when you get one of their smiles, it warms you.                                                                                                             

The little oyster bar serves its shucked bivalves on old lunchroom trays with a sleeve of saltines, a roll of paper towels, and condiments on the counter. Side dishes come on foam disposable plates with plastic utensils to transport the food from plate to mouth.             

They serve the oysters with a tiny fork but as a true Gulf girl I pick my oysters up with my fingers, check for shell and pop them into my mouth. I only use the fork on the steamed ones so I can dip them into butter without greasing my fingers. Charlie uses his fork to place his 'dressed' oysters on top of a saltine.Our raw dozens didn't quite fill the holes for protein we had so he ordered steamed crawfish and I had another dozen oysters, steamed this time. We got on the outside of those pieces of deliciousness, smiled contentedly at each other, and decided we needed to go grocery shopping next.                                                                             

We attended to our mundane needs ( toilet paper, cat treats, bread, eggs and milk) and came home to cats ready for their afternoon feeding. We are doing things now; laundry, bill-paying, picking up and putting away and the Day of Lazy is over. 

We should do this more often.                  

                                

Christmas Treats! Truffles and Pecans and Cats - OH MY!

I have been off my post level since November - too much to do and not enough time to think deep thoughts, much less write proper sentences that weren't work-related.

Christmas is now 5 days away and I am at last making treats. Praline Pecans are one of my specialities, much-loved by people who get to eat them and easy enough for me to make while doing other things.
This receipe is based on a Southern Living 1997 Annual Recipes entry.

3 cups freshly-shelled pecan halves
4 tbl Heavy cream
1 cup tightly packed brown sugar
Confectioner's sugar
Ghiaradelli Chocolate Powder

Spray an 8.5 x 11" glass or metal baking pan lightly with cooking spray, pre-heat oven to 350.
Check pecan halves for shells, mix in a bowl with cream and brown sugar until all halves are covered.
Pour into pan, bake for 12 minutes; stir, and bake another eight. Ths is very important to watch carefully. Most ovens (unless regularly calibrated) have different heats and you do not want to burn something as expensive as pecans. You may have to add/subtract minutes or reduce temps for your own comfort. I usually bake mine at 325 for 25-28 minutes. When you stir them at twelve minutes you can see how much more time they really need. They are ready to take up when you see granulation on the pecans.
Pull them from the oven, cool for a minute or two while you get a cup of confectioner's sugar and a cup of chocolcate powder, a sieve and 2 pie plates ready.
Pour a tbl or so of confectioner's sugar into your sieve and then add about half of the pecan mix in, shake over the pie plate and add more sugar as you shake until the pecans are coated. Empty the pecans into the pie plate with the used sugar to cool.
Pour the other half of the pecans into the confectioner's sugar-coated sieve, shake, add chocolate powder a tbl at a time while shaking over the other pie plate until the pecans are coated. Pour pecans into pie plate to cool.
I use the same sieve without cleaning because the chocolate powder benefits from the confectioner's sugar reside.
Let this all cool for an hour or so, put in airtight storage and get ready to be assaulted for your delicious offerings:)

Now, about those truffles.....

They are far more tasty than attractive. My hands were too hot to roll the cubes into balls so I settled for just having rounded edges. The recipe produced a delicious and smooth ganache so I suggest you give Cooks Illustrated a look for the technique and make this in cooler climes.

The cats seem to know the holidays are here and that I need my $ for other things than their toys and treats and have been intent on reminding me of my priorities. Wink had an abcess that we caught pretty quickly but was small enough to burst before we got her to Doc. We took her in, he shaved and cleaned the area, gave her the vacinations for which she was due and some antibiotic and we were about $200 poorer. Then Pojorita stopped eating so we had to take her in. She had apparantly eaten something that clogged her innards and after a bit of barium she was fine. Since she was old enough we went ahead and had her spayed. Goodbye, $300.....My sweet basement cat Fang was next to require an investment. He has gotten old enough that his little bowlz make our feral male think he's competition so Tuxedo had apparantly gotten a good claw into his underside, producing another abcess.
So Fang went to see Doc to have the abcess drained and seen to and his little nards nipped. Another $350.00. Fang is feeling better, his black fur is shiny and healthy again; Wink has been ruling the house for some weeks now and Pojorita has resumed eating everything that smells interesting. Except for string, I hope.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Joyous Winter Solstice and general Good wishes to you all and thanks for reading:)

Go West, Young Woman!

I enjoy the west coast of the US. It is so different from here; the coastline itself is lapped by cold water instead of the warm water that kisses toes here on the Gulf.
And as far as colonization goes, many western ports are far older than my home shores.
We spent a few days in Seattle, WA.

This landmark was walking distance to our hotel (The Marriot in the Alaska Building). The Farmer's Market had pretty produce - fat raspberries and blackberries alongside unseasonably pretty tomatoes. I sniffed those and knew they'd received help to get the color. The berries were solid, though, and I wanted them - bu we were on our way to a restaurant with friends and had to pass.
We got to Washington on Saturday night. The weather was cool and a little damp and the ride to the hotel lives in my head as a swoosh of lights reflected from wet leaves as the cab climbed a mountain and I looked down into the valley. I was hot and had the cab window down so I could feel the wind on my scalp and cool my face.
Our first night was in a hotel in Bellevue; we moved the next day to Seattle to the conference hotel. Charlie grumbled about "the longest hotel check-in ever" but we got a HUGE room. We had an entryway, bed space and living space with windows covering two walls. If you ever have to stay in the Marriot Courtyard Downtown in Seattle, stay in a room ending in 10 or 02. HUGE.
We ate at fabulous restaurants. Best meal? The Metropolitan Grill.

I love beef carpaccio. It is usually served with arugula and sliced parmesan reggiano, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil. This is Wagyu beef carpaccio and, my darlings, it was fabulous. Wagyu is the US version of Kobe in which (I think) Kobe and Black Angus are bred to bring the marvel that is Wagyu to plates. For my entree I had the paired filets; one of Nebraska beef, one of Wagyu. After tasting each I just wrapped the Nebraska beef and ate my wonderful Wagyu.
It is, simply, unbelievable. Mine was cooked medium rare, more on the rare side, and seasoned with a sprinkle of salt, grilled over mesquite wood.It was tender and perfetly beefy without the 'dull' taste some beef can have. My family has raised cattle for beef for what seems like forever so I am particular about my beef - this was better than anything from the Beaty Ranch.
I am running out of steam since in addition to a love for Wagyu I have brought back a sinus infection (or something) which is kicking my butt. I feel like the boxer who was losing the bout who shouted "no mas! no mas!"
No mas snot  y coughs, por favor.

History and Me

I think I may have noted somewhere that I majored in History at FSU. I had planned on teaching community college; nice classes of people learning Western Civ that I could regale with the stories of the 6 wives of Henry the 8th, court gossip, old scandals that help today's students remember the important parts...That's not where I ended up but my interest in social/intellectual history colors my view of the world even now.
That facet of my personality made this week's trip to DC even more exciting than usual.
I was going with colleagues because of a Microsoft Foundation grant we are operating, which meant meeting at DC's Microsoft HQ. That, in itself, would have been plenty exciting for most people. What I was focussed on were my two wishes: an aftershock from the earthquake that had rocked DC a few weeks earlier and the opportunity to gather with a group related to the Occupy Wall Street protest.
My few days were dwindling away and I feared I wouldn't get either wish - I comforted myself with the fact that I had finally tasted Iberico Ham at Jaleo and that it was all I had hoped it would be - silky, melt-on-the-tongue cured ham that I will eat again.
On the last morning, the USA Today paper had an article about Occupy DC along with its location. At Last!

The protesters were at Freedom Plaza on the corner of 14th and Connecticut Avenues. My hotel was on New York Ave, a long trek away for a fat woman with a bad ankle. Oh, yes - the ankle I twisted on the same foot as the toes I had broken! I had twisted it again the previous morning when we climbed to the Russel Building to meet some Senators. I was determined to get there and really needed to walk off a few of the calories I had so eagerly consumed in the previous days.

This was the first picture I took. See the foot under the bench? That belongs to the woman holding the sign. She had it facing the street when I first saw her, looked over her shoulder and saw me and understood my turn-the-sign-around mime efforts and did so.
I've been saying for a long time that people need jobs that pay a living wage. I'm not talking communism/gimme, I am talking about paying people what their labor is worth. The CEOs are skating off with not just the biggest piece of the pie, but the VERY biggest piece.

This poster vilifies some CEO who got a big-ass bonus while foreclosing on homes - not really sure about the details but my contention has always been, even before this crisis, "how many islands can you own? How much do you really need to have a luxurious life?"
I think a lot less than they have now. I am not in favor of direct wealth re-distribution (i.e. take the rich folks' bank accounts and divvy them up) but restructuring the tax system so the middle class pays less, the rich pay more, and business and industry can't have a profit margin greater than 20% of payroll after you subtract operating expenses. People used to be able to have one breadwinner in a household and still have enough money (in all cases but the poorest) to own a house. I know abut the exceptions, this is a sweeping generalization.

My focus was on the piece of Occupy DC that concentrated on the economic side of the nation's problem. There were lots of other parts of the protest, threads to make a whole tapestry. The people against the Tar Sands pipeline, many elderly and wealthy-looking, were present along with the anti-war folks (which included quite a few veterans) as well as others; all of whom made up the consensus of the whole: Government should be about US, not the corporate interests who can line the pockets of Congress.
I came home Friday night. It was my eleventh wedding anniversary, 17 years total of being with the exactly right man for me.

My beloved Charlie had a vase of a dozen of my favorite roses, secured by a small box on the base to prevent any cat-astrophe, waiting for me. The cats twined around my ankles and sang "give us treats!" while I read my anniversary cards. I hugged and kissed my darling and decided that I had had enough "going" for a few days and would indulge in a little "staying" for the next few days in my perfect little corner of the world.

Autumnal Aire

Doesn't that just sound sweet and heady? Like music with high notes from flutes and zithers, the scent of ripe pears, the beginning of citrus blossoms gracing the air...
It was like I went to bed Thursday night wearing a stinky fur coat of humidity and awoke free and weightless Friday morning.
I forget the joy of the first little bit of fall we get here. It seems to my memory that there is far too little of that; that we just barrel down the seasonal highway from being mugged by heat to feeling like our eyelashes are so cold they'll break.
Friday morning I finished writing a grant, the glass door to the deck open so the cats could flow in and out like the breeze. I worked at the breakfast nook table so I could see the activity in the yard through the three big windows.The temptation to "help" me work is usually so high that an open door to the garden isn't enough to draw away my furry distractions. Everything smelled and felt so good to them this morning that I worked in peace.
We went to dinner with the Son, Darling DIL and GrandBeauty to celebrate the pending arrival of a new family member in March. The Beauty is not quite 2 years old but displays (naturally enough!) remarkable intelligence. She was very good at dinner, no shrieks, many charming behaviors.

Look at those pigtails! She is eating organic gummies as her appetizer and shared some cheese with us as well as some of her Mama's Spaghetti Carbonara.
After dinner, the men went to the cars to put away leftovers and we three girls went into the street for Octoberfest.
Jacq had been so good we let her run unfettered. DIL pointed out that Jacq was running with her nose up, questing the air like a cat or dog, enjoying the wind on her face and the fragrances of fall in a Florida City.

My Own Little World

That's where I lived this weekend. Charlie was in Pigeon Forge being a Ham and I didn't have the extra cash to engage in Big Shopping so I amused myself at home.
Of course, the mountain o'laundry had to be done, but that is the perpetual background music to my weekends so it just happened while other things went on. I stopped at the grocery on my way home from the office on Friday to pick up special food treats for me since otherwise I'd just eat garbage food. Got some pretty cantalope, thin-sliced proscuitto and some sashimi. The Japanese kid behind the sushi cooler at Publix and I had to have an extensive conversation involving lots of pointing and drawing of imaginary sashimi in the air before we had what I wanted settled between us.
I don't like the rice part of the whole sushi/nigiri/sashimi experience (I use all 3 dish names because the whole thing has been so bastardized) and I am particular about what I do like: raw tuna with cucumber sticks and slices of avocado topped with ground pepper, sea salt and fresh lime juice. NOM.
I set the tuna free from the eel ribbon with which it had been wrapped around the green goodness, gave all a quick chop, dressed and tossed it. I had a little of the cantalope wrapped in the ham and called myself full.
Saturday I boiled ten pounds of chicken leg quarters with onion, celery and garlic to make food for the cats and stock for us. The latter was accidental - I was boiling the leg quarters three at a time and after I put the third batch into the pot in the same liquid I noticed that the color was pretty rich - gave it a taste and decided to pay more attention to the broth-becoming-stock.
As a reward, I used my martini shaker to make a version of a Spring Flowers (ala Highlands Restaurant) martini. I used equal parts St. Germain Elderflower liquor and vodka and one jigger of Sparkling Ice pink grapefruit drink.

It was delicious!
Today Charlie came home and we lounged around, watched the cats play and napped.  I got a cute picture text from a friend based on a nickname I have - woozy- of something she saw with a version of that name.

A "woozie" is apparantly a wine koozie. Clever, eh?
Charlie is happily ensconced in his recliner with a soup mug full of chicken and dumplings and I am re-eneregized for another week out in the Big World.