Right now, I'm boiling pinto beans, because they were in the pantry. I have no idea what I'm going to do with one pound of pinto beans besides make refried beans, but it sure beats tossing a 70-cent bag of beans, right?
I need to get a job.
I'm baking a chicken, whee. Nothing special this time, although I don't think I rubbed enough butter on it, so it won't turn that pretty brown color.
It seems like every time I bake a chicken, I have to check the internet for liver recipes. I toss the neck into the freezer for that special day I finally make stock (I swear I'll do it eventually), but I'm always left with the liver (and sometimes the heart), puzzled. Sometimes I flour and fry it, sometimes I half-assedly saute it. But I always check the internet first, because maybe I'll find something clever I can try that won't take too much effort. Meh. I sautéed this time. I think I also sauteed a gizzard, which turned out unnaturally crunchy. I couldn't eat it, even though I kept trying to convince myself that it was just like nankotsu karaage (fried crunchy chicken cartilage! I miss you.), but it was just too stringy looking. Any tips on what to do next time?
Also, in my internet search, I came across this lovely description of gutting chickens, written by a woman who can't stand raw meat. Fascinating.
http://ephelba.blogspot.com/2007/07/chicken-guts.html
Hope you're doing well. Cl's staying with her family while they're in town, so it's just me and G in this unnaturally clean apartment for a few days. Keep an eye out for rogue facebook tagging.
PS: G just cut himself. Opening the pepper mill. With a fork. (Fine, fine, it has a lid that's difficult to take off. But still! Stabbed with a fork!)
But on the street corner, there is a cheap-looking tall, black woman's boot with a broken heel lying in a pile of leaves. Someone either lost it on a drunken walk home, or chucked it out the window of their car. I like to pretend there wasn't a scuffle, because the heel's broken. And it doesn't look like it'd easily slip off.
I'll chuck it tomorrow, but I might take a picture and post it first. Gross.
Cl is in town! It's nice mixing things up. It's Day 3, and things will probably be pretty smooth. She's the only one that has to get up for work (G is taking his last final of the quarter, old J-literature, as I type), so there's no bathroom jam.
Last night I decided to make buttermilk biscuits because there's a quart of buttermilk in the fridge. (Ahem, purchased with the intent to make biscuits.) Mmmm. They're always a crowd pleaser. We each ate two, and that was after dinner, and after ice cream. Haha.
And have you heard? This is mostly directed at L, but the March issue of Saveur is all about butter:
Isn't that an awesome picture? I wish they had actually put butter on the cover, but I guess caramel sauce is more photogenic.
The well-lit, enticing magazine photo. Yep, they want you to do it by hand.
Smells like hotel potpourri (fake vanilla), all I can taste is 2% milk and sugar. Halfway through the cup, I can't smell the potpourri anymore, and there's this vague sensation of spiciness. And it's better that way. At the last job, they had tazo organic chai, which was vastly superior. Even if I put too much milk or sugar in, there was plenty of spice fighting its way through.
I know I should've seen this coming--it was a bonus addition to the earl grey I bought. (No objection to the earl grey.)
The show was funny. It opened with this NotFunny guy who was part comedian, part singer. He changed costumes a lot and had some cardboard props. His last sketch/song was about spicy noodle soup. His name is not worth mentioning.
Then there was this electronica band called the United States of Electronica. Happy electronic music. I couldn't see much, but one woman was in sequins, and the other seemed to be wearing a corset made of metal. The only guy I had a clear view of was wearing a rainbow-striped suit and primarily sang using a vocoder (you know, the robot voice!). He was spazztastic and fun.
As for the Presidents of the United States of America, or PUSA as they seem to be shortening it these days, it was nice seeing a band that I was familiar with. They played most of the songs I knew, and they even played Video Killed the Radio Star (their famous cover). There was confetti and balloons, and the guitarist's little son came out and played a little. It was adorable and not pretentious at all, although at that point, I couldn't see crap.
Unfortunately I'm old and cantankerous, and was at first annoyed by the cloying smell of lipsmackers and pushy moms pushing their insecure sons closer to the stage. Then the show started and there was some half-hearted moshing (shoving). And then there were these slutty caricatures of groupies that smelled like department store perfume. And then there were these two women who tried to barge up front, failed, and then had a little dance party where they were stopped, crushing the poor high school girls that just wanted to have a good time.
Probably the most interesting part of the show was watching security. At first I thought they were just being cautious--they were scanning the crowd like they were waiting for a fight to break out. And then they start pointing. A few seconds later, some sweaty bro is flashing the horns and shoving to get back into the crowd. Turns out security was managing the crowdsurfing. It was fascinating. Guy (or occasionally girl) goes up, security points him out, two more gloved security guys pull him over the rail once he gets to the front of the stage, and point him to the side of the stage. Where I was standing. At first it was annoying, having the potbellied security guy pointing his meaty finger in my face to guide the surfer back into the crowd. And then it was just funny. Some rubbed his belly, one guy started dancing with me. I wish I could've taken a picture of each one that shoved by.
So yeah, there's my show review. Glad I went, glad it was free.
I think I just won a pair of tickets to a Presidents of the United States of America concert. (Please see my reaction above.) Live music is cool, I like the Paramount Theater, but uhm, whoops. I only signed up because, hey, free is cool. Guess I'll go then. Haha.
Read more...The pot roast went well. It fell apart and I'm all meat-and-potatoed out. Awesome. No pictures because I tore into that thing. Totally worth the 6 hours (including prep). Example: when I carefully peeled the butcher's twine off, flakes (flakes!) of meat came off with it.
Only slightly related: a few days ago, when I asked the woman at the grocery store meat counter if they had butcher's twine, I had hoped she would point me to the correct aisle. Instead, she reached under the counter and rhythmically looped a few yards, cut it, folded it into fourths, and deftly twisted it into a piece of saran wrap. That's the closest I've felt to being in Japan in a very long time.
My dad is coming on a business trip this Thursday and Friday, maybe staying until Sunday to hang out.
On Monday, Cl (the one that's dating Mr. 'Cock) is coming to town for two weeks to work with the traveling production of Cabaret. Exciting! She'll be here for two weeks.
Three days later, R and N, the infamous Shodoshima duo, will be here for about five days for a teachers' job fair and to explore the PNW. Hmm, come to think of it, I think they're flying in on the day I need to go to SJ for my grandfather's 90th birthday party. Sheesh.
Anyway, the point is, holy shit, do I need to start cleaning.
In food news, bread loaf #2 came out underdone--gummy and denser than the first. I used a different pot and took it out too early. Sad. I'll try again later, but the damn thing takes about 20 hours to rise! Maybe I should try making real bread. More effort, a quarter (half?) of the time. Or maybe I'll try that other no-knead recipe that only takes 5 hours to rise. Hmm.
Also, G made a double batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies last night. A DOUBLE batch. I hope he intends to share some with people outside of this apartment.
We've also been on a massive carrot binge after I bought a five pound bag. Y'know, carrots taste really good. G thinks it's because we haven't had them in such a long time. Har har. So, lots of carrot sticks, and last night I made a carrot salad with my Japanese mandoline. You know what? It sucks. SO does G's. The little holder thing seems to be made for daikon, not small root vegetables that fall off after every slice. Grr. But the salad's good, so yay. And yay for eating more vegetables. (I also just found out that baby carrots are just ugly carrots pared down to pretty, uniform two inch segments. I don't know why this never occurred to me before.)
Tonight for dinner: pot roast. I need to start it right now (1:34pm), so it'll be done somewhat close to dinner time. Wish me luck!
Crazy dreams ensued. I remember snapping a claw off of a large crawdad that was somehow still alive after living in the freezer. I cracked it open and ate the meat. (Can you eat crawdads raw? Ew?) Then I realized that the poor critter was still alive and I felt horrible. I still had to shell the rest of it, so I smashed its head with a jar because I couldn't handle its weak attempts to get away. After I had cleaned it all, there was a long tentacle stuck in the drain. I felt like I was going to be sick.
Oh, and I think I did all this while sitting in a bathtub.
Blech.
About 24 hours after I baked it, it's almost gone. Tastes fantastic, has a pretty crust, and the insides are full of bready holes. If I were on any sort of diet, I'd be appalled at what I ate today:
Breakfast: bread and butter
Lunch: cereal bar, banana, bread and butter
Dinner: Greek chicken lemon rice soup, bread and butter, apple and cheese
Loaf #2 using the standard recipe with bread flour is sitting in the warm oven right now. I'll give it the full 18-hour rest, and make it tomorrow night. Mmmm bread. I've found myself a new recipe to obsess over.
From their health blog, called Well:
A One-Eyed Invader in the Bedroom
Hmm. They're actually talking about kids having TVs in their bedrooms. But still.
(PS: I'm currently trying to make a faster variation of the famous No-Knead Bread. Wish me luck.)
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