Sometimes you have to do what you have to do

I'm a horrible person and I'm probably going to Hell but sometimes you have to do what you have to do.  


There's this person in the office where I work who apparently doesn't have enough to do. He flits from door to door and desk to desk talking to anyone who happens to make random eye contact.  Not necessarily full eye contact either . . . once could be looking in his general direction and that would be enough to invite conversation.  I'm not talking once in a while that he does this . . . but every day several times a day.




Sometimes I get tangled in his talkative web and it might not be that bad if the conversations contained even the slenderest thread of coherent of thought process.  But it's usually random weirdness that doesn't have much to do with much of anything that is relevant.


And sometimes it seems as though he's speaking some Khoisan language as he walks by and starts making a weird clicking sound with his mouth and punctuates this with knuckle tapping on the partition of my cubicle.


Today he stopped at my cubicle with a couple clicks and knocks and with a great intake of breath began babbling a stream of nonsense.  I listened politely for as long as I could tolerate it without blood leaking out of my ears or my head exploding.  


Then as if my telephone suddenly began to ring (which it didn't) I lifted one finger in a hold-on-a-sec gesture, picked up the handset of my phone and began a non-existent conversation with no one.  He walked away and instant relief ensued.


You might say to yourself . . . how would I get away with such a ruse?  The man is clueless . . . what can I say.


I'm totally going to Hell.

Breakfast Galette

Crust:

1 1/4 CupAll-Purpose Flour

1/2 TeaspoonKosher Salt

1 Stick UnsaltedButter, Cubed and Cold

1/4 Cup Water, IceCold

Toppings:

3 TablespoonsRicotta Cheese

1/4 CupMozzarella, Shredded

2 Slices Bacon,Cooked and Cubed

1 Slice Ham, Cubed

3 Large Egg Yolks

Salt And Pepper

In a medium bowl,mix together all-purpose flour and salt. Place flour and unsalted butter infreezer for 5 minutes to chill.

Combine flourmixture and butter. Mix until you’re left with what resembles coarse meal, withpea size pieces of butter. Add ice water 1 Tbsp at a time, mixing until it justbegins to clump together. If you pinch some of the crumbly dough and it holdstogether, it’s ready. If the dough doesn’t hold together, add a little morewater and mix again.

Remove dough frombowl and place in a mound on a clean surface. Gently shape into a discs, beingsure to not over-knead. Wrap the disc in plastic wrap and refrigerate at least1 hour, and up to 2 days.

Preheat oven to375 degrees. On a floured surface, roll dough to a 10-inch circle with a1/4-inch thickness. It’s okay if the edges are shaggy and it’s not a perfectcircle. Transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet.

Scoop ricotta ontothe center of the dough, spreading out to make a large circle, stopping 1-inchfrom the edge of the dough. Sprinkle on grated mozzarella cheese. Fold edges ofdough over the cheese. Transfer baking sheet to the refrigerator for 15minutes.

Whisk togetheryolk and water. Brush dough with the egg wash. Bake until crust is lightlygolden brown, 25-30 minutes. Take galette out of the oven and gently placeyolks atop cheese. Arrange bacon bits and ham to your liking and place back inoven for 2-3 minutes, or until yolks set.

Garnish with saltand pepper.

Firewater Friday - The Birth of a Blog Post

Have you ever wondered how bloggers get their ideas?  Think about it . . . some bloggers, like me, write about something or other every single day.  How do I get all those fabulous ideas . . . and all that time to cook, too!  For me sometimes it's a random thought that inspires a post and sometimes it's something like this (a real IM conversation between hubby and me) . . .

So there it is . . . sometimes that's how it happens.  And now I have a blogpost.  

Now, about those eggs.  Hubby's family has an Easter tradition where they bump their (presumably) hard boiled egg against someone else's.  Whoever's egg cracks loses.  What do they lose?  I have no idea . . . their sense of egg tapping pride perhaps?  I thought they made the whole stupid thing up . . . his family is pretty goofy (in a goodly way) and it would surprise me if this was some silly game they came up with.

Well, if Wikipedia is to believed . . . an if it's a Wiki page it just has to be true, right? . . . then apparently this is an Easter tradition that goes back a bazillion years or something like that . . . or 1979 years ago, at least.


Anyhoo . . . the egg fight is supposedly an Easter traditio wherein you are supposed to hold a hard-boiled egg and tap the eggs of other participants to break them but to keep your own undamaged.  Yeah, good luck with that!  Cheating is rampant but it's all in good fun.  


This egg tapping thing can be found in many different cultures around the world but has it's roots in pagan beliefs.  For obvious reasons, the egg was a Pagan symbol of the rebirth and early Christians co-opted this metaphor as the rebirth of man at Easter in light of Christ's ultimate sacrifice.

Speaking of Easter . . . do you know how our calendar Easter day is selected?  It is always the first Sunday after the first Full Moon after the Spring Equinox (thanks to Dicky for the bit of pagan holiday info).   


So . . . go bust up some eggs!  Happy Easter or Solar/Lunar Pagan Holiday

Coconut Cream Cake 


2 oz. Pinnacle Cake Vodka
2 oz. Milk
Splash Coconut Rum


Shake with ice and strain into a chilled martini glass. 

New Brew Thursday - Doubleheader . . . Cavalry Brewing Hatch Plug Ale and XLimited Ale

I love micro brews . . . I especially love to find breweries as close to home as possible; you know, support the local little guy.  I'd be hard pressed to find a brewery as close to home as Cavalry Brewing Company . . . they are a scant 23.5 miles away in scenic Oxford, CT.


Cavalry is owned by one man who also happens to be the brewmaster, Mike McCreary.  In 2008, he fell victim to the economic downturn that is plaguing so much of our country.   He was forced to find an alternate means of making a living and decided to pour his passions into a bottle and make beer.  

The concepts for his beer tell a story . . . not just about the craft of brewing a good beer but about his experiences.  His first line of beers pay tribute to those experiences and to all the soldiers who fight for this country.


I'm a patriotic gal to the core and I love beer . . . so, of course, when I saw Cavalry's beer at my favorite beer store I snatched up a couple of six packs to give them a whirl.  

The first beer I tried was the Hatch Plug Ale.  


A happy tanker is a fat tanker and a real fat tanker is a Hatch Plug. This beer is named after a 1st Lieutenant that was traded for six M-16’s to another unit prior to departing for Iraq in early 2003. Hatch Plug went on to run the Baghdad airport and helped establish the telecommunications system in the region. Despite what we did to him he remains a good friend to this day.


It is made in the style of a classic English ale. 
I would describe it as an anytime anywhere kind of beer.  It's light enough to enjoy a few while hanging out with friends but complex enough to compliment a good meal.  


It pours with a thin head and is a lovely a reddish gold color.  It smells like . . . mmm, it smells very bready.  The yeasty aroma carries over very well to the palate and finishes with a bit of sweetness.  


It's a very good beer . . . dangerously drinkable . . . like you could drink the whole six pack in one sitting dangerous.  It's low alcohol content saves the day at 4.5% alcohol by volume.

The second of my Cavalry selections was called X-Limited Ale . . . Lot #2.  The 'X' is for experimental and the lot number one of two batches out.  The idea is to get a thumbs up or thumbs down from consumers . . . like a missile, this beer will be launched only if the drinkers deem it so.  The brewery wants to know if it's a "Patriot" or a "Scud"!


I say Lot #2 X-Limited Ale is a Patriot!  It is an Extra Special Bitter ESB, which is my first time trying this style of beer.  ESB is a strong bitter pale ale as opposed to an ordinary bitter in which is the category the average British IPA falls into.

The head on this beer was amazing!  It poured with a thick creamy head very much like a root beer and was a deep golden color.  The aroma made my mouth water with its citrussy hoppy nose.  It was very hoppy but not overpowering . . . pleasantly bitter with a hint of malty sweetness.  The flavors balance out nicely with just the right amount of carbonation. 


With a relatively low 5% ABV, I could enjoy a few of these ESB without feeling like I got hit by a missile.



I think this is a beer that should definitely go from experimental to full-on production.  Two thumbs up!



I'm looking forward to trying more offerings from Cavalry . . . cheers!


For more information on Cavalry visit their website.

Once again, my life has been saved by the miracle of lasagna.

Every year I ask hubby what he wants for his birthday dinner . . . full well knowing what his answer will be but asking anyway . . . what does he want?  Lasagna.  And not just any ol' lasagna.  He wants a meaty, cheesy and spicy lasagna.   Kind of like a lasagna fra diavolo.  

I make the sauce from scratch, making it spicy of course.  But you can use jarred sauce if that makes it easier (and it does).  


The secret is spicy meat, spicy sauce and don't skimp on the cheese.  This lasagna ROCKS!

World's Best Spicy Lasagna


1 Pound Hot Italian Sausage
1 Pound Lean Ground Beef
1/2 Cup Minced Onion
2 Cloves Garlic, Crushed
1 (28 Ounce) Can Crushed Tomatoes
2 (6 Ounce) Cans Tomato Paste
2 (6.5 Ounce) Cans Canned Tomato Sauce
1/2 Cup Water
2 Tablespoons White Sugar
1 1/2 Teaspoons Dried Basil Leaves
1 Tablespoon Salt
2 Tablespoon Hot Pepper Flakes
1/4 Teaspoon Ground Black Pepper
4 Tablespoons Chopped Fresh Parsley
12 Lasagna Noodles
16 Ounces Ricotta Cheese
1 Egg
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1 Pound Mozzarella Cheese, Sliced
1 Cup Grated Parmesan Cheese (or fresh)
Pepperoni Slices
3 Cups Shredded Italian Cheese (provolone, mozzarella, etc.)


In a skillet, cook sausage, ground beef, onion, spices and garlic over medium heat until well browned. Stir in crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, tomato sauce, and water. Season with sugar, basil, 1 tablespoon salt, pepper, and 2 tablespoons parsley. Simmer, covered, for about 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally.


Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Cook lasagna noodles in boiling water for 8 to 10 minutes. Drain noodles, and rinse with cold water. In a mixing bowl, combine ricotta cheese with egg, remaining parsley, and 1/2 teaspoon salt.


Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C).

To assemble, spread 1 1/2 cups of meat sauce in the bottom of a 9x13 inch baking dish. Arrange 6 noodles lengthwise over meat sauce. Spread with one half of the ricotta cheese mixture. Top with a third of mozzarella cheese slices.  Top with pepperoni slices.  


Spoon 1 1/2 cups meat sauce over mozzarella, and sprinkle with 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese. Repeat layers, and top shredded cheese. Cover with foil: to prevent sticking, either spray foil with cooking spray, or make sure the foil does not touch the cheese.


Bake in preheated oven for 25 minutes. Remove foil, and bake an additional 25 minutes. Cool for 15 minutes before serving.

Once again, my life has been saved by the miracle of lasagna. 


Garfield 

The ultimate reason is "because."

I know I'm kinda of weird, but I think those stick family stickers that people are putting on the backs of their cars are really kind of cute.  Of course, I don't have any on my car . . . cuz, I don't want people to think I'm weird.  It's quite a paradox.



They're kind of fun . . . they come in all kinds of varieties that represent the families personalities . . . I especially like the zombie ones . . . too funny!


Braaaainnzzzzzz!




Of course, another good one is the divorced family . . . 






And the crazy cat lady one is a hoot, as well.










Then there's the one for people who don't give a sh!t about your family . . . stick figure or otherwise.


Yeah, I know, I got nothin' . . . not even a stick figure family to stick on my car . . . but hey, my blog can't be awesome every day!  

Bacon and Cheese Omelet

3 Slices Bacon, Cooked

3 Large Eggs,Lightly Beaten

1/4 Teaspoon Salt

1/4 TeaspoonGround Black Pepper

1 TablespoonButter

1/2 SlicesAmerican Cheese

In a small bowl,combine eggs, salt, and pepper; beat with fork. In a 10 inch nonstick skillet,melt butter over medium heat, rotating pan to coat bottom. Add egg mixture. Coverfor a minute or two. 

As eggs start to set, gently lift edges with a spatula, and tiltpan so uncooked portion flows underneath. Top with cheese and bacon evenly ontoomelet.  Cover for about a minute toallow cheese to melt.

Fold over and slide onto plate. Serve immediately.

April is Sexual Abuse Awareness Month

April is Sexual Abuse Awareness Month – Sexual abuse can happen to any one . . . it crosses all ages, genders, races, ethnicities, and economic backgrounds

When you think of Sexual abuse the first think that may pop into your head is rape . . . and while that is clearly a form of sexual assault keep in mind that sexual assault can take many forms . . . child sexual abuse, rape, attempted rape, incest, exhibitionism, voyeurism, obscene phone calls, fondling, and sexual harassment

1 out of every 6 American women and 1 in 33 American men  have been the victim of a sexual assault in their lifetime.  15% of those were under the age of 12.


Sexual assault can happen to anyone and the chances are pretty high that you know someone who has been sexually abused in their lifetime. 

To highlight this . . . I am going to share a long held secret . . . this is my story.

The summer between graduating from elementary school and entering junior high school I . . . uhm, how to put this . . . I blossomed.

I got a little taller, lost my baby fat and grew lumps and bumps where none had previously existed.

Yeppers . . . I had filled out.  And, by some small miracle (or minor curse), my chesticles were more  . . . er . . . generous than most of the girls in my class.

It was actually an embarrassment.  I would walk around the halls covering up with a notebook or by wearing a big shirt.  I was the only girl in my class with such highly developed bumps. I even got accused of stuffing my bra.  If you know me . . . I DO NOT like to draw attention to myself.

So, there was this one time that I got to class before anyone else.  A boy . . . a fellow classmate . . . followed me in with his merry band of buttheads.  What happened next happened so fast that I had no time to react.    I had just sat down at my desk when two of the boys grabbed me from behind and held me back against the chair while the leader shoved his hands down my shirt and mauled my bosoms.  The bastard had sexually assaulted me . . . and his stupid friends helped him.

I never said anything to anyone about it.  I was too ashamed.  I simply avoided those boys afterwards.

Eventually, the other girls developed their own lumps and bumps and I was able to melt into the shadows and become invisible.  As I like it.

Thankfully, neither that little fuck nor his fucktard friends ever touched me again.

Mercifully, my experience wasn’t worse than it was.  I know there are other people who are brutalized and tortured but I wanted to point out that sexual assault . . . even minor ones . . . can happen to anyone.  Be aware.

Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust

I work in an office that is mostly women, so when I have to use the bathroom it is pretty likely that I won't be alone in there.    I may not like it, but I've long ago come to grips that privacy in the toilet isn't a thing to expect when I'm anywhere but at home . . . and often not there either between the cat knocking on the door to be let in or the hubby shouting out a comment on something that  couldn't possibly wait until I'm done.  But that's a whole other thing.


What I'm getting at is that some people have unusual bathroom habits.  One of THE most annoying I've already wrote a commentary on . . . and that is people who feel the need to chat on the phone while they're going potty.  I won't get into that again.

What I don't understand is the women who come into the bathroom who flush the toilet first thing . . . I'm talking as soon as they enter the stall.  You may argue that perhaps the last person to use the toilet failed to flush when they were done doing their duty (or doodie, as it were).  But I really don't think that's the case. I walk by those toilets on the way to my preferred stall . . . yeah, I have one and it's the one furthest from the door; it's as close to privacy as I can get . . . and I have never ever seen an unflushed toilet before.  I suppose I might pre-flush if there are skid marks in the bowl . . . 

Keep in mind that this happens in a well-maintained office building that they work in and where they use the facilities many times a day, where there is no reason to suppose things aren't working right.  So what I don't get is why are they flushing first?


I can't even say that they're doing it to mask the sound of their . . . uhm . . . bodily functions.  Because the flush happens before they do anything. Before the door is even latched.  Before they've even dropped their drawers to tinkle.   

I'm thinking that maybe . . . just maybe . . . they want really clean water in the case of back splash. I suppose it's possible that germs could splash up.  But I also don't see how that extra flush could disinfect the toilet.  Think about it . . . if the bowl already looks clean because the previous user flushed, and then you flush it again, how much cleaner is it really? 



Perhaps it goes back to some childhood thing . . . like when mommy would turn on the water in the bathroom to help you go.  It's a known fact that the sound of running water increases urgency in some people.


Meh . . . 


And don't get me started on the people who put toilet paper on the seat so they don't have to touch the seat but then they leave the toilet paper there . . . because apparently it's okay for you to touch their germ-infested toilet paper to remove it. 


That is all . . . moving on.