Category Archives: Comestibles

Recipe blogging

Still feeling too bluggy to post anything substantive, so here’s a recipe for shrimp dip I invented over the weekend. It’s pretty damn good.

Shrimp Dip à la Cardiaque Arrêt
1 lb cooked shrimp
1/2 block of cream cheese
1/2 cup sour cream
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1/2 large yellow onion, chopped into large chunks
1/2 tsp. Tabasco sauce
2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
2 tsp. jerk or cajun seasoning (or any kind of seasoned salt with a kick)
2 tsp. lemon juice

Throw it all in a food processor and pulse it until it’s smooth and creamy. Serve with thick ruffled potato chips, or crackers if you’re feeling snooty. The recipe makes a bunch, so if you’re not making it for a party just keep it in the fridge between noshing sessions and it will last 4-5 days.

Ehm.

I know. I know! A whole week without any posts. Erk. Last week really kicked my ass, mental-health-wise. Insomnia kicked in again (it seems to be going around) and I just could not get out of a deep blue funk. I’m still not totally out of it, in fact, which is really getting old. Something’s going on, and I’m try to figure out what it is, but so far it’s stuck deep down in my subconsciousness, which means that it’s all coming out in sleeplessness and restlessness and general feelings of inadequacy, because my subconscious is a bitch like that and really needs to learn some damn manners. This week Mr. Squab is off work, which means that I can take some time for writing and other child-free activities (like, um, writing this blog entry, actually). I’m hoping that will give me the reflection time I need to puzzle out what the hell is wrong with me and what to do about it. Although if anyone wanted to send me on an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii for a weekend, I’m sure that would help even MORE.

But that is not the point of this post. The point of this post, my friends, is to tell you that the Hatchling experienced her first corn-on-the-cob this weekend, and it was joyful to behold. We’ve offered it to her every time we’ve had it this summer, but she wanted nothing to do with it until Saturday, when she saw me eating some and decided it was a) funny and b) worth copying. I gave her bites off my portion, and she liked it enough that we gave her a little bitty ear of her own, complete with holders. And I don’t know why I’m even still typing, because this is really a case where pictures are worth … well, you know. Click the photos for bigger images:

First corn on-the-cob

I believe that face translates loosely as "Damn, that's some good corn!"

Note the delicate grip on the holders

All done!

The Day After: A Brief Dialogue

Scene: Chez Squab, 24 hours after my closing my recent production. Mr. Squab has just gotten home from work.

Me: If you’ll feed and water the Hatchling, I’ll get our dinner ready.

Mr. Squab: OK. What are we having?

Me: Marinated chicken sauteed in caramelized onions, garlic, spinach and a white wine reduction, garlic mashed potatoes with parmesan and sour cream and a green salad.

Mr. Squab (drool starting to leak out of the corners of his mouth): Fuck!

Me: [grin]

Mr. Squab: That’s it. You’re never directing again.

Friday Recipe Blogging

So, I’m from the south. Born and raised in Athens, GA, until I was cruelly uprooted to Minnesota at the tender age of ten when my dad got a job teaching at a small liberal arts school in the middle of nowhere. Now, it’s true that at this point I’ve spent more time living out of the south than in it, but there’s something about those first ten years that’s … what’s the word I’m looking for … oh yeah: formative. Which is to say that you can take the girl out of the south, but blah blah blah I still say y’all and dream of a vacation in Dollywood.

One place where my souther-tude comes out most consistently is in my reverence for white trash cuisine. If it’s cheap, bad for you, and just a little wrong, chances are I will love it. Boiled peanuts? Hell, yeah. Fried peanut butter and banana sandwich? Load me up. Bacon flavored anything? Sock it to me, baby. For my wedding to Mr. Squab, we got a country club in central Minnesota to make us fried catfish, cheese grits, and hoppin’ john. The event coordinator thought we were a little insane, but it was the best wedding food I’ve ever had. So when the time came to choose a theme for our recent Oscar party, white trash just seemed like the way to go. White trash cuisine makes excellent party food. Of course, a lot of the food was bought ready-made: Little Debbie oatmeal creme pies, Bugles and EZ cheese, Double Stuff Oreos, etc. But I actually made two dishes, and I thought I’d share them with y’all in the interests of promoting my heritage so it carries on after my early death from grease-related cardiac arrest. Enjoy:

Cornholio
Got this recipe from my sister, who currently resides in Knoxville, TN. Many people north of the Mason-Dixon line find the idea of combining corn and cream cheese in a cold dip a little off-putting, but trust me: once you try it, you won’t stop eating it until it’s goooooooone.

1 c. mayonnaise
1 pkg. cream cheese, softened
2 cans Mexi-corn (the kind with red and green peppers in it)
1 green onion, chopped
1 small jar pimientos
1 can chopped jalapeno peppers
1 T. seasoned salt
1 T. garlic powder

Mix cream cheese and mayo until well blended. Drain corn, pimientos and jalapenos and add them to the cream cheese/mayo mixture. Stir in onion, season salt and garlic powder. Cover and refrigerate for at least 1 hour. Serve with Fritos Scoops.

Chocolate Cheese Fudge
I adapted this from Paula Deen’s Just Desserts cookbook, which is just full of yummy southern treats. I knew I had to try this one, though, because hello! What’s more trashy than making fudge from Velveeta?!? And again: it sounds gross, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t taste better than any other fudge I’ve ever made. Fo’ real.

1 lb powdered sugar (that’s one bag or two boxes)
1/2 c. cocoa
1/2 lb Velveeta cheese, cubed
1 c. butter (2 sticks)
1/4 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 t. vanilla extract
1 c. chopped pecans (optional)

Spray the bottom of a 9×11 pan with nonstick spray. In a large bowl, blend powdered sugar and cocoa, and set aside. In a saucepan over medium heat, melt together cheese, butter, and chocolate chips, stirring constantly. (Mixture may not look smooth when completely melted, but it doesn’t matter.) Add vanilla and nuts. Pour the cheese mixture into the sugar and cocoa and mix until completely blended. (It’s a very stiff candy, so I recommend using a stand mixer if you have one.) Using a rubber spatula, press the candy evenly into the pan. Refrigerate until firm, and cut into 1″ squares.

Comestible Chaos

Yesterday the Hatchling and I went out to lunch with ShabbyDoll and her daughter, like we usually do on Tuesdays. The weekly “playdates” (can you call it a playdate if the kids involved mostly ignore one another in favor of eating straws?) are such a boon – it’s great to have a friend with a baby so close in age to the Hatchling, and I relish having at least one opportunity a week to interact with an adult during daylight hours. Usually, both the babies are quite well behaved: they sit in their highchairs and munch on Cheerios or fruit while we catch up, bitch about our latest parenting travails, and gossip. We’ve gone to all kinds of places, posh and homey, family friendly and not so much, and the routine is pretty much the same.

This week, though, we decided to visit a local place owned and operated by friends of ours. (Well, friends of ShabbyDoll; acquaintances of mine.) It’s a teensy tiny little cafe; there are about 5 tables and a counter, and that’s it. In fact, it’s so small that they only have one highchair, so we traded off during the meal. I don’t know if it was the trading that got us off kilter, or if we were just jinxed by actually knowing the chef, but let’s just say it was not our most glowingly sophisticated outing. Among other stellar moments:
– ShabbyDoll’s daughter, F., used her lightning-like reflexes to grab a coffee cup off the table and spill hot coffee (only hot; not scalding) all over herself and her mother, thus requiring her to finish the meal in a state of pants-free abandon, and the chef to come out from the kitchen and mop up the mess;

– I lost hold of a full jar of baby food, which flew under the table and bounced, splattering peach oatmeal banana all over my pants, the floor, the wall, and (I cringe to recall) the black sweater sleeve of the nice gentleman sitting next to me.

– Both girls saw fit to inflict zombie baby death stares on anyone else who happened to walk into the restaurant. That might sound cute, but let me tell you: few people can actually stare them down.

– Both girls were unusually talkative, and at unusually high volumes. “This is a small space,” they seemed to say, “we can totally fill it up with our voices. Look! We have excellent breath control, even at decibels normally reserved for death metal concerts.”

– After joking with the owner that we often inadvertently leave things behind in restaurants, and being prompted when we left to make sure we didn’t forget anything, we STILL nearly left a hat and a wooden block there.

In short, it was a somewhat trying experience, for the restaurant and the other patrons as much as for us. Thankfully, they couldn’t have been nicer, and the food was FABULOUS – spanikopita and chicken polenta soup to die for – but I don’t think we’ll be going there for lunch again in the near future without the dads in tow. Because as ShabbyDoll so rightly puts it, there are some situations where you really have to outnumber your progeny to maintain any semblance of order.

I guess she’s feeling better

One of the aftermaths (is that a word?) of the Bolivian Death Flu was that we all lost our appetites for about a week. The Hatchling had a particularly hard time with this; she seemed scared to eat any baby food and would only take things she could feed herself: bread, cheese, pieces of fruit, etc. – and not much of that. However, I think it’s safe to say she’s gotten over her squeamishness. Here’s what she had for lunch today:

About 20 little cubes of cheese
3/4 of a large jar of chicken and vegetable stew
Three ENORMOUS handfuls (my hands, not hers) of Pirate’s Booty*
Two slices of freeze-dried mango
1/2 a container of blueberry yogurt
About 5 honey graham cracker sticks
Two boobs’ worth of breastmilk
6 oz. of formula

Seriously. That’s ONE MEAL. Oof.

*They say it’s white cheddar flavored, but *I* think it’s coated in baby crack, because the Hatchling cannot get enough of it. I swear she’d eat an entire bag if I let her. She actually squealed with delight when we opened a new bag at lunch today, and then let out a greedy little laugh as I put them on her tray.