All it takes is a pinch

I think chewing tobacco is probably one of the most disgusting habits . . . like . . . EVER!  This spitting is the nastiest, ickiest, uckiness!  To be frank . . . it's gross.


When I was a teenager growing up in the sticks of Pennsylvania most of the boys I went school with preferred dipping over smoking.  Don't get me wrong, I think smoking cigarettes is pretty yucky, too . . . but the snuff thing . . . ew.  



Snuff is  "pinched" out of the can and placed between the lip and the gum and is normally kept there somewhere between 10 to 30 minutes. The draw is that nicotine is absorbed through the lining of the mouth causing mellow yet energetic high.  The drawback is that it causes an excess production of saliva . . . 

which mean spitting.  Spitting nasty brown liquid.  The boys would walk around with their empty soda bottles spitting into it almost constantly.  Quite disgusting.  






What's worse, for the user at least, is the high risk with use for mouth cancer.  I had friends . . . at 15 and 16 . . . who had obviously diseased mouths as a result of the dip.  I'll spare you the gory details but if you really must know you can check it out for yourself here.


And, as a teenage girl, I wouldn't ever date a boy who dipped.  Imagine kissing that mouth?  No thanks!

On a side but related note, my neighbor up the road had a thing for Red Man chewing tobacco.  I used to play with his son and the evidence was in little landmines all over the yard.    Unlike dipping tobacco, it is not ground up.  It's shredded tobacco and must be chewed with the teeth to release flavor and nicotine.  The unwanted juices . . . er . . . ugh . . . spit, must be spat.   Once the tobacco is chewed up the chewer is left with a masticated wad of tobaccy . . . 

The whole thing is just . . . ew!


That is all . . . moving on . . . 

Homestyle Beef Enchiladas

1 Lb. Lean Ground Beef

½ Cup Chopped Onion

2 Cloves Garlic, Crushed

½ Tsp Salt

¼ Tsp Pepper

2 10 Oz Cans Enchilada Sauce *

8 Small Corn Tortillas (6-7 Inches Diameter)

¾ Cup Shredded Monterey Jack Or Cheddar Cheese

1 Tbsp Chopped Fresh Cilantro

Sour Cream (Optional)

Preheat oven to 350 F. In a large non-stick skillet, brown ground beef, onion and garlic over medium heat 8-10 minutes or until beef is no longer pink. Pour off grease.

Season with salt and pepper to taste. Stir in ½ cup enchilada sauce from one can. Set aside remaining sauce from that can.

Pour the second can of enchilada sauce into a shallow dish. Dip tortillas, one at a time, into sauce to coat both sides. Spoon beef mixture evenly down the center of each tortilla and roll up. Place beef enchiladas seam-side down in a 13x9-inch baking dish.

Cover dish and bake in oven for 15 minutes.

Uncover enchiladas. Spoon reserved enchilada sauce over beef enchiladas. Sprinkle with the cheese. Continue baking uncovered for 10 minutes or until cheese is melted. Sprinkle liberally with cilantro. Serve with sour cream (optional).

I like breaking the rules

A cardinal rule . . . what kind of rule?  An angry bird rule?  God forbid you disobey an angry bird!!

Seriously, though, I always thought the term ‘cardinal rule’ referred to some sort of religious tenet that morphed into an everyday saying about an all important directive that must be obeyed.

Well . . . suffice to say, I was wrong.  Shocking, I know.  But, it happens now and again.

The word ‘cardinal’ comes from the root word 
‘cardo’, which in Latin translates to ‘hinge’ or ‘that on which something turns or depends’.  Therefore, something cardinal is important because all else hinges upon it.  It is a fundamental rule . . . something that is essential that cannot be deterred from.

A cardinal rule could be: Isn't it the first cardinal rule of perm maintenance that you are forbidden to wet your hair for at least 24 hours after getting a perm at the risk of deactivating the ammonium thioglycolate? 

Back to the church . . . before it was all powerful and had such a grand hierarchy and far reaching authority on everything and everyone . . . a cardinal was simply a clergyman being that he was attached to the church . . . much like a door is attached by a hinge to  a building.  

And back to that angry bird . . . why is it red?  Well, because somehow the name cardinal went from being a simple man to a prince (of the church) and was clad all in red . . . the bird was thusly name because it was all red much likes the robes of churchly princes.

No, he was not red because he was angry; you people and your imaginations.  Sheesh!

Grilled Cheese Cheese Stuffed Cheeseburger

Two Slices of Bread

Two Slices American Cheese

One Slice Swiss Cheese

One Half Pound of Lean Hamburger

Butter

Sliced Tomatoes

3 Slices Crisp Bacon

Divide the hamburger into two patties.  Fold the Swiss cheese into a square and pressinto the center of one of the patties. Top with the second patty and press to seal edges. 

Grill or fry hamburger, until done.

In the meantime butter two slices of bread, and lay on fryingpan, add cheese to the slices of bread and grill till cheese melts and crispybrown on the other side.

Lay cooked hamburger on one of the bread and cheese slices.  

Top with tomato slices and bacon. 

Serve your amazing creation.

Balls to the wall

Balls to the Wall is an expression that refers to an all-outeffort . . . giving it all you’ve got.

The origin of this idiom . . . like many . . . isdebatable.  However, the most widelyaccepted explanation is based in aviation. On airplanes, the throttle control handles  . . . or joystick . . . and the fuel mixtureare often topped with grips that are ballshaped.  When a pilot pushes the ballinto the full thrust position . . . towards the firewall . . .  it pushes theaircraft to go as fast as possible.

On a side-note, if you've ever wondered why a joy stick iscalled thusly . . . well, chances are that is indeedy a vulgar term . . . theobvious implication that a (male) pilot was gripping the stick between hislegs; his joystick.

Another explanation involves steam engines.  These engines have a mechanical regulatorthat utilize of a pair of hinged lever arms with a ball on the end of eacharm.  As the engine speeds up, centrifugalforce causes the arms to rise up closing a valve.  The regulator can be adjusted so that thearms go to horizontal (with the balls pointing to the wall) without closing thevalve.  This adjustment does not limitthe speed of the engine so that it can go full force.

A similar explanation refers the automatic speed control fora diesel-generator . . . like those used on submarines.  Inside the hydraulic governor roundcounterweights are attached to a vertical drive shaft. The weights (balls) areon hinged arms. As the engine spins, the drive shaft spins and slings the ballsoutward toward the walls of the governor housing. The faster the engine turns,the closer the balls get to the wall, i.e., engine at high speed, balls to thewall.

 

Let there be space in your togetherness

Can someone please tell me what’s so elusive about that concept of ‘personal space’?

I don’t know you . . . don’t touch me.  I barely know you . . . don’t hug me.  Hell, for that matter, don’t even talk to me!

I’ve had people approach me to discuss some topic or other.  That’s cool, I’m okay with that . . . for the most part.  It’s when they keeping coming to the point where I’m backing up  . . . and backing up . . . until I hit a wall and there’s no place left to go.  I nearly go into flight or fight mode.  The point is . . . I don’t need to know that you forgot to put on your deodorant that morning or that you ate a bushel of garlic for dinner last night.  Get out of my face!

In Western culture the generally accepted amount of personal space between two people who are not intimate is anywhere between 1.5 to 4 feet.  I would tend towards the further end of that spectrum.  There are other cultures where the idea of personal space has all but been eradicated do to crowded living conditions.  But that’s not here and that’s certainly not me!

There’s a reason I’m no longer a beautician and work with computers.  There’s by far . . . and beyond . . . less personal contact.  Guess what I like best about my bartending job . . .  the physical barrier.  That and if someone gets out of hand I can bop them on the head with a baton. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I don’t mind being touched.  It’s just a matter of whom I am being touch by.  Hubby . . . he can touch me all over . . . and over again . . . rowr.  My friends . . . friends not acquaintances . . . can be touchy, huggy . . . to a degree . . . and some more than others.   But, if I barely know you or don’t know you at all?  Step off, buddy!  And, if you're not sure where you stand then you probably shouldn't get too close.

Scientifically, there is a section of your brain that is hardwired to repel close human contact; except, of course, when sex is a possibility.   That is why, as far as I’m concerned, hubby has zero personal space . . . I’m all into that space as often as logistically possible.  Anyhoo . . . the reaction to be repulsed by close personal contact is thought to be a throw back to the days when someone would snatch your woman by the hair and drag her off to their cave . . . or your food. 

Consider this an education in personal space etiquette . . . and a warning.  

Stuffed Zucchini Casserole

2 Medium Zucchini, Chopped

1 Medium Onions, Minced

1 (7 Ounce) Cans Roasted Red Peppers, Chopped

1/2 Green Peppers, Chopped

2 Garlic Cloves

1 Tomato Chopped

1/4-1/2 Teaspoon Oregano

Salt And Pepper

3/4 Lb Ground Beef

Olive Oil

8 Slices Cheese

2 Tbsp Butter

1 Cup Bread Crumbs

Heat olive oil in a fairly large skillet.

Sauté garlic first, then add onions, green pepper, and oregano.

When the veggies begin to soften, add ground meat.  Season with salt and pepper, and brown until cooked through.

Drain off any excess grease. And put into a large bowl. 

Saute tomatoes in olive oil until they begin to soften.  Add to meat mixture.

Saute zucchini in olive oil until they start to brown.  Add to meat mixture.

Mix the meat mixture, tomatoes zucchini together.  Mix in roasted red peppers and cheese.   Pour into a 9x13 greased casserole dish.

Melt butter in a skillet and add the bread crumbs.  Mix thoroughly and spread overtop of zucchini casserole.

  

Bake in a 375ºF oven for 20-30 minutes, until heated through, and cheese begins to bubble and brown.

Serve hot.

The proof is in the pudding

Hubby can cook.  Not that offers to do it very often.  You think the man would want give his lovely bride a break and make her a scrumptious meal once in while.  **Sigh**  It doesn't hurt to dream.  Of course, it doesn't hurt to dream that he would cook for me dressed like that!  Rowr!


<<<<<


Anyhoo . . . we once had a discussion about who made the bestest meatloaf.  He claimed he had the most rockin' recipe ever and, of course, I'm quite proud of my meatloaf.  So, we decided to have a meatloaf competition.  


We both started with the same basic ingredients  . . . meat, onions, breadcrumbs, egg . . . but diverged from there.  He added cheddar cheese and brown gravy .  . . and in theory that does sound pretty darn kickin' . . . but the proof is in the pudding.

Let me digress for a moment.  What exactly does 'the proof is in the pudding' mean anyway?  It is actually a bastardization of 'the proof of the pudding' which is shorthand for 'the proof of the pudding is in the eating'. The longer version makes some sort of sense.  But the shortened  version really doesn't mean much of anything.  And the more common 'the proof is in the pudding' doesn't mean squat.   The meaning becomes clear when you know that 'proof' here is a verb meaning 'test' . . . as in to proof yeast to make sure it's still active.   Basically, it means  “the quality, effectiveness or truth of something can only be judged by putting it into action or to its intended use”.  

Now back to the meatloaf competition.  My meatloaf recipe was a derivation of my mom's recipe which uses tomato sauce and a tomato topping.  I drool just thinking about it. 


Anyhoo . . . we proceeded to prepare and cook our meaty loafs.    And then the taste test.  At this point, I should say that we both agree that meatloaf must always be served with mashed potatoes and corn.  


So the slices of meatloaf were plated and the decision was clear.  Mine was awesome.  He's came out kinda pate' like . . . the texture ruined the whole thing.  

But, now I make his version of meatloaf more often than I make my mom's . . . only I make it better.  


Personally, I think it was a way of getting me to do more of the cooking by proving I'm a better cook.  Obviously, his diabolical plan succeeded.


But the bestest meatloaf ever?? 

Little Meat Loaves Two Ways

1 lbs Beef - Ground

1 lbs Sausage (Italian), Ground

2 Eggs, Beaten

1 1/2 Cup Seasoned Bread Crumbs

1/2 Cup Milk

1 Teaspoon Worcestershire Sauce

1 1/2 Cup Brown Gravy

1/2 Cup Sugar - Brown

1  1/2 Cup Ketchup

1 Cup Cheddar Cheese, Cubed

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  

Place equal amounts of ground beef and sausage meat in two bowls.

To one bowl add half of the eggs, bread crumbs, milk, and a 1/2 cup of the brown gravy.

To the other bowl add half of the eggs, bread crumbs, milk, and a 1/2 cup of the ketchup.

Mix the ingredients in each bowl together well and form into six individual loaves; three of each. Place three each of the respective loaves into a loaf pan.  Press equal amounts of cheddar cheese into each of the loaves so that the cheese is completely surrounded by the meat mixture.   Separate each loaf by a strip of tin foil.   

 

In a separate small bowl, combine the ketchup, brown sugar and Worcestershire sauce. Mix this together well and spoon some of this sauce over each of the loaves that were mixed with ketchup loaf.

Top the gravy loaves with the rest of the brown gravy.

Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 45 to 60 minutes.