I swear. I can NOT make chicken soup!
What is wrong with me?! Someone please tell me!
I google recipes for chicken souup. I read recipes for chicken soup.
I write them down. I study them.
I buy rotisserie chickens and styrofoam trays of cellophane wrapped "soup greens".
I buy cut up fryers organic, locally grown, dirty because they were just wrestled from the ground this morning veggies.
I buy bouillion (ew). I buy "Better Than Buillion" (YUM).
I buy chicken stock. I buy Organic Chicken Stock.
I buy Rachael Ray's Chicken Stock.
I buy College Inn Chicken Stock.
I buy wine. I try putting some in the soup.
I MAKE chicken stock from the present chicken and freeze it until I have the NEXT chicken.
And still! SUCKY CHICKEN SOUP!
sniff sniff.
My chicken always comes out dry.
The veggies never NEVER have any flavor or texture.
Big Daddy lives dangerously and claims that my Chicken Soup has no taste.
I add Salt!
I add Bouillion!
I add White Pepper!
I add Black Pepper!
I add Hot Sauce!
sigh
I hang my head in shame.
I can't make brownies from the box, either.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 22, 2013
Nosey Children Beware!!!
It has come to my attention that my teenage daughter (and a friend or two) has been cruising the pages of my blog, ladies!!!
Worse than that, she's using it as fodder to make fun of parents with her Posse!
What?!
Despite the fact that my blog is new, and rather short, as a Mom, I have ways of knowing what certain children (who trespass on their Mother's - or their friends' Mothers' - blogs) are up to.
This is Me glaring at You guys
~@@~
Worse than that, she's using it as fodder to make fun of parents with her Posse!
What?!
Despite the fact that my blog is new, and rather short, as a Mom, I have ways of knowing what certain children (who trespass on their Mother's - or their friends' Mothers' - blogs) are up to.
This is Me glaring at You guys
~@@~
Dec 1, 2012
Fleece or Fleeced?
Someone! Please, tell me! What has happened to FLEECE!!!???
Remember way back when, in the late 80's or early '90's when either Land's End or L. L. Bean introduced us to the new and innovative fabric called fleece? Remember?!
Fleece started out light,warm and, well, it looked bulky but it really wasn't...
Fleece was fleece back then. Actually, back then, it was all Polartec. And it was all produced at Malden Mills in Lawrence, Massachusettes, by "The Mensch of Malden", Aaron Feuerstein. You might remember that, in 1995, Mr. Feuerstein shot to fame for doing the right thing. A fire gutted Malden Mills, ceasing production of Polartec and put 1500 people out of work.
At that point, Mr. Feurestein could have chosen to move production to Asia and shut down the local, now ruined, mill. He didn't, though.... He repaired, rebuilt, and retooled - all the while paying his employees their regular salary and their medical insurance. Mike Wallace featured Mr. Feuerstein on the TV Show "60 Minutes" because of this, and when he asked Mr. Feuerstein why he had continued to pay his employees during the "hiatus", Mr. Feuerstein answered "Because it is the right thing to do."
"The right thing to do." Today, those words usually mean "The right thing to do for me" or "for my company" or "for the bottom line". How often these days do businesses - big businesses - do the right thing for their employees?
But I digress...
In the beginning fleece was one weight. There were a few "bejeweled" shades of color, mostly trimmed in different a "bejeweled" accent color. There was one fit. It was warm, it was soft and comfy. It was like wearing your favorite childhood "woobie" (no relation to the Sahalie catalog's uber soft garment) out in the open.
Sure, there were some challenges at first.
Everyone looked like an oompah-loompah because the bottom was trimmed with some elastic-y trim to keep it at your waist, rather than being hemmed so it might fit in a more flattering fashion.
Fleece was static-y as all get out! If you had long hair, it was always sticking up or flying away or, if a hair fell out, it gathered like birds nests in your fleece-y armpits. Try to kiss a fleece wearing friend and the two of you could end up with 2nd degree burns and a black out in the neighborhood.
Fleece could go from soft and smooth as your favorite blanket to shag rug rag in one wash, it attracted lint like a pair of black velvet pants in a white cat household. Once you figured out that the best way to wash it is to turn it inside out, do up any zippers or snaps, and toss it in, that challenge was conquered and you were good to go.
People started to want more from their fleece. They wanted the garment to be windproof, weather resistant, less bulky, more colors, warmer, cooler. Different manufacturers started using the fabric in different ways - lining jackets, outerwear "systems" (the multi layer garments where the fleece and other layers zip or button together, becoming more than one garment). Making it thinner, making it thicker... Making it out of recycled plastic soda bottles.
"Premium brands" like Helly Hansen, Marmot, and The North Face are other brands that offer fleece for "high performance" if you don't mind paying more and acting as a walking bill board. My hot pink Helly Hansen fleece is great, but it's made for the dog park - not the board room.
The stores have given us what we asked for - or have they? The last several fleece garments that I have purchased have been almost weightless. The fabric is so thin that it's nearly opaque. I bought an "active wear" fleece that turned out to be what I call "1/2 fleece" - the fuzz is only on the exterior, it's uber thin, and offers almost no insulation whatsoever.
I've purchased several fleece quarter zips for my husband, who often gets cold, only to receive the exact same garment with a different label in it. The material is too light and thin, the weave too loose to provide the desired insulation. In other words - he's still cold!
So, where is it? Where is the fleece we all know and love? Why has fleece become difficult to figure out? At the end of the day, I'm looking for a warm, comfortable, not terribly unflattering fleece to wear. WHY CAN'T I FIND IT????
Remember way back when, in the late 80's or early '90's when either Land's End or L. L. Bean introduced us to the new and innovative fabric called fleece? Remember?!
Fleece started out light,warm and, well, it looked bulky but it really wasn't...
Fleece was fleece back then. Actually, back then, it was all Polartec. And it was all produced at Malden Mills in Lawrence, Massachusettes, by "The Mensch of Malden", Aaron Feuerstein. You might remember that, in 1995, Mr. Feuerstein shot to fame for doing the right thing. A fire gutted Malden Mills, ceasing production of Polartec and put 1500 people out of work.
At that point, Mr. Feurestein could have chosen to move production to Asia and shut down the local, now ruined, mill. He didn't, though.... He repaired, rebuilt, and retooled - all the while paying his employees their regular salary and their medical insurance. Mike Wallace featured Mr. Feuerstein on the TV Show "60 Minutes" because of this, and when he asked Mr. Feuerstein why he had continued to pay his employees during the "hiatus", Mr. Feuerstein answered "Because it is the right thing to do."
"The right thing to do." Today, those words usually mean "The right thing to do for me" or "for my company" or "for the bottom line". How often these days do businesses - big businesses - do the right thing for their employees?
But I digress...
In the beginning fleece was one weight. There were a few "bejeweled" shades of color, mostly trimmed in different a "bejeweled" accent color. There was one fit. It was warm, it was soft and comfy. It was like wearing your favorite childhood "woobie" (no relation to the Sahalie catalog's uber soft garment) out in the open.
Sure, there were some challenges at first.
Everyone looked like an oompah-loompah because the bottom was trimmed with some elastic-y trim to keep it at your waist, rather than being hemmed so it might fit in a more flattering fashion.
Fleece was static-y as all get out! If you had long hair, it was always sticking up or flying away or, if a hair fell out, it gathered like birds nests in your fleece-y armpits. Try to kiss a fleece wearing friend and the two of you could end up with 2nd degree burns and a black out in the neighborhood.
Fleece could go from soft and smooth as your favorite blanket to shag rug rag in one wash, it attracted lint like a pair of black velvet pants in a white cat household. Once you figured out that the best way to wash it is to turn it inside out, do up any zippers or snaps, and toss it in, that challenge was conquered and you were good to go.
People started to want more from their fleece. They wanted the garment to be windproof, weather resistant, less bulky, more colors, warmer, cooler. Different manufacturers started using the fabric in different ways - lining jackets, outerwear "systems" (the multi layer garments where the fleece and other layers zip or button together, becoming more than one garment). Making it thinner, making it thicker... Making it out of recycled plastic soda bottles.
"Premium brands" like Helly Hansen, Marmot, and The North Face are other brands that offer fleece for "high performance" if you don't mind paying more and acting as a walking bill board. My hot pink Helly Hansen fleece is great, but it's made for the dog park - not the board room.
The stores have given us what we asked for - or have they? The last several fleece garments that I have purchased have been almost weightless. The fabric is so thin that it's nearly opaque. I bought an "active wear" fleece that turned out to be what I call "1/2 fleece" - the fuzz is only on the exterior, it's uber thin, and offers almost no insulation whatsoever.
I've purchased several fleece quarter zips for my husband, who often gets cold, only to receive the exact same garment with a different label in it. The material is too light and thin, the weave too loose to provide the desired insulation. In other words - he's still cold!
So, where is it? Where is the fleece we all know and love? Why has fleece become difficult to figure out? At the end of the day, I'm looking for a warm, comfortable, not terribly unflattering fleece to wear. WHY CAN'T I FIND IT????
Nov 21, 2012
Happy Thanksgiving, You Big Turkey!!!
"Gobble, Gobble, Happy Thanksgiving, You Big Turkey!!!"
If you call my home at any point on Thanksgiving Day, this is the greeting you will get when I answer the phone. So my family RUNS to the phone in order to prevent me from answering in just this way.
One Thanksgiving Morning, many years ago, I picked up the ringing phone and answered it with my customary Turkey Day greeting.
A British Accent responded with "ahhhh... yes, ..... that little holiday that gives all of you Americans an excuse for another day off!".
Now, the company my husband worked for at the time had an office in London, and we were very friendly with his British colleagues, so I wasn't surprised when I heard someone "trying to take the chuff off" - especially on one of our best, biggest, most sacred holidays (hear THAT, Target??).
I said. "What's this? A bit of sour grapes, do I hear?!"..."Sad because you sit in the office while we sit at home, stuffing our selves and watching our favorite sport like Brits on Boxing Day?"... "By the way, what, exactly, do you all do over there on Thanksgiving? It's not like you can work because we are all at home. Is it like a British day of mourning? Do you spend time pondering the loss of a few million acres? The loss of all of that tax revenue? You know, the taxes for which some of my ancestors got no representation in Parliament? And therefore they had to open a big ole can o whoop'ass??"
The Brit on the other end of the line paused for a moment and responded "WHAT?! We were trying to HELP you!! You don't understand! Your ancestors were LOST, and we came to get you back to civilization!".
"Help us!" I said,barely able to stand up I was laughing so hard, "Help us! If YOUR ancestors were here to "help" us, then why were they CHASING us with all of those guns with the bayonettes on the ends?? They just wanted our money and our tobacco, and tried to tax the bejeezus out of our one comfort from home - TEA!!!"
The gentleman kindly explained to me that we were a very expensive, young colony, but he didn't expect me to understand that, as it is WIDELY known throughout Britain that the first subjects of The Colonies, were perhaps not the most shining stars of HRH George's subjects. The "first ones" were rather ... well, of narrow breeding, lacked education, sophistication, culture and a level of taste that one would have found in a higher bred example of the British Subject.
I thought about that for a few beats... "You mean the ones you left behind? Those British Subjects?! The ones who were too dumb to get back on HRH's scows before they RAN back to England?"
We both burst into laughter at that, and then a moment I will never forget occured.... sigh...
I said "Hang on, Paul, I'll get Big Daddy for you".
And the Brit said. "aha. uh. well. hem... I'm ... it would seem... This is actually "Sir Topham Hat" from "One of the Most Important Companies" in Big Daddy's industry." He didn't say those actual words but as names have been changed to protect the guilty, that's the best way to explain it.
Well, if you don't think I about swallowed my tongue, that my scalp felt like it was on fire, that my heart dropped right out of my body and went splat on the floor and that my eyes rolled back into my head, you would be wrong! I actually had to steady myself by putting my hand on the wall. My knees were weak.
My voice broke as I stammered..."OH. Uh... I'm so sorry, I mistook you for "Don Smith" from Big Daddy's London Office. I.... I... I really hope I haven't offended you in anyway. Please PLEASE don't hold it against Big Daddy... hang on!"
So I run like the blazes to the bottom of the stairs, and "whisper yell" up the stairs "GETTHEPHONE, GETTHEPHONE, GETTHEPHONE!!!"
It's Sir Topham Hat and I may have mistakenly caused an international incident. I'm sooooooo sorrrryyyyy."
Ofcourse, Big Daddy is looking at me with those big "What the He!! have you done!" eyes, runs to the phone and picks up.
I ran to the den, sat on the couch, curled up in the fetal position, covered my face, and rocked like a lunatic until he came down stairs for the "explanation".
I heard him coming, his bare feet slapping on the tile floor. I wanted more than anything at that moment to just have the floor open up and swallow me whole.
Fortunately for me, the gentleman I had been speaking to, really was a gentleman, and my husband wanted to know why Sir Topham Hat was worried about the possibility of having offended ME.
He explained to Big Daddy that we'd been having a friendly laugh about that skirmish of 1776 (and again in 1812) that resulted in our Nations "parting ways" in a not so amicable way, though we have since come to an understanding....
Whew! This is one reason I thank the Lord for Caller I.D.!
Well, Gobble Gobble, Happy Thanksgiving, You Big Turkey!
If you call my home at any point on Thanksgiving Day, this is the greeting you will get when I answer the phone. So my family RUNS to the phone in order to prevent me from answering in just this way.
One Thanksgiving Morning, many years ago, I picked up the ringing phone and answered it with my customary Turkey Day greeting.
A British Accent responded with "ahhhh... yes, ..... that little holiday that gives all of you Americans an excuse for another day off!".
Now, the company my husband worked for at the time had an office in London, and we were very friendly with his British colleagues, so I wasn't surprised when I heard someone "trying to take the chuff off" - especially on one of our best, biggest, most sacred holidays (hear THAT, Target??).
I said. "What's this? A bit of sour grapes, do I hear?!"..."Sad because you sit in the office while we sit at home, stuffing our selves and watching our favorite sport like Brits on Boxing Day?"... "By the way, what, exactly, do you all do over there on Thanksgiving? It's not like you can work because we are all at home. Is it like a British day of mourning? Do you spend time pondering the loss of a few million acres? The loss of all of that tax revenue? You know, the taxes for which some of my ancestors got no representation in Parliament? And therefore they had to open a big ole can o whoop'ass??"
The Brit on the other end of the line paused for a moment and responded "WHAT?! We were trying to HELP you!! You don't understand! Your ancestors were LOST, and we came to get you back to civilization!".
"Help us!" I said,barely able to stand up I was laughing so hard, "Help us! If YOUR ancestors were here to "help" us, then why were they CHASING us with all of those guns with the bayonettes on the ends?? They just wanted our money and our tobacco, and tried to tax the bejeezus out of our one comfort from home - TEA!!!"
The gentleman kindly explained to me that we were a very expensive, young colony, but he didn't expect me to understand that, as it is WIDELY known throughout Britain that the first subjects of The Colonies, were perhaps not the most shining stars of HRH George's subjects. The "first ones" were rather ... well, of narrow breeding, lacked education, sophistication, culture and a level of taste that one would have found in a higher bred example of the British Subject.
I thought about that for a few beats... "You mean the ones you left behind? Those British Subjects?! The ones who were too dumb to get back on HRH's scows before they RAN back to England?"
We both burst into laughter at that, and then a moment I will never forget occured.... sigh...
I said "Hang on, Paul, I'll get Big Daddy for you".
And the Brit said. "aha. uh. well. hem... I'm ... it would seem... This is actually "Sir Topham Hat" from "One of the Most Important Companies" in Big Daddy's industry." He didn't say those actual words but as names have been changed to protect the guilty, that's the best way to explain it.
Well, if you don't think I about swallowed my tongue, that my scalp felt like it was on fire, that my heart dropped right out of my body and went splat on the floor and that my eyes rolled back into my head, you would be wrong! I actually had to steady myself by putting my hand on the wall. My knees were weak.
My voice broke as I stammered..."OH. Uh... I'm so sorry, I mistook you for "Don Smith" from Big Daddy's London Office. I.... I... I really hope I haven't offended you in anyway. Please PLEASE don't hold it against Big Daddy... hang on!"
So I run like the blazes to the bottom of the stairs, and "whisper yell" up the stairs "GETTHEPHONE, GETTHEPHONE, GETTHEPHONE!!!"
It's Sir Topham Hat and I may have mistakenly caused an international incident. I'm sooooooo sorrrryyyyy."
Ofcourse, Big Daddy is looking at me with those big "What the He!! have you done!" eyes, runs to the phone and picks up.
I ran to the den, sat on the couch, curled up in the fetal position, covered my face, and rocked like a lunatic until he came down stairs for the "explanation".
I heard him coming, his bare feet slapping on the tile floor. I wanted more than anything at that moment to just have the floor open up and swallow me whole.
Fortunately for me, the gentleman I had been speaking to, really was a gentleman, and my husband wanted to know why Sir Topham Hat was worried about the possibility of having offended ME.
He explained to Big Daddy that we'd been having a friendly laugh about that skirmish of 1776 (and again in 1812) that resulted in our Nations "parting ways" in a not so amicable way, though we have since come to an understanding....
Whew! This is one reason I thank the Lord for Caller I.D.!
Well, Gobble Gobble, Happy Thanksgiving, You Big Turkey!
Nov 17, 2012
My Love for L. L. Bean
I am not receiving any recognition or compensation from L. L. Bean for this post. Just want to say that up front. Because I loooooove L.L. Bean!!! LOVE LOVE LOVE IT! There's a link below. Go there. Shop. Be one with the Bean.
I can't tell you exactly when I became aware of L.L. Bean, it's just always been part of my life. When I was a kid, Dad would take hunting trips to Maine with his buddies and midnight stops at L.L. Bean in Freeport were a part of that tradition. Dad brought home stuffed animals, kid sized snow shoes (the old school kind made of wood and tanned leather), birch bark Moose calls, and one time a basket backpack "just like the Indians used to use". That basket was awesome and I loved it.
The L.L. Bean catalog was in my home just as often as the Sears Christmas Book catalog.
I poured through the pages to look at the hunting gear, the camping gear, the fishing gear. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a split bamboo fly rod!!!
And the clothes! The fairisle sweaters (and sweater dresses), the patch madras dresses and skirts, the great coats and the shooooeeess..... sigh... penny loafers with leather soles, hand made in Maine. And you could really put a penny in them (though the style at the time was to use dimes so you'd have money for a phone call - take that whippersnappers!).
My very first "on my own" purchase from L. L. Bean was a pair of penny loafers, a pair of the uber stylish Bean boots (6" and there were no color options then), and a navy blue "Norwegian Fisherman's Sweater". Believe it or not, I still have that sweater. I think it might even fit.
I remember that I saved the money from my first job - scooping ice cream at Charlie's -and gave it to my Mom who wrote a check for me. There were no shipping fees then, and if you went into the store the prices were exactly the same as in the catalog. Because L.L. Bean picked up the shipping fees, they didn't have a toll-free number and I used to know their number by heart. The area code is 207.
When I filled out the order form for my first order, I wasn't really sure of my shoe size so I called the customer service number. The kind lady at the other end of the phone told me to trace my foot and they'd figure it out. She reminded me that I'd have to do it twice as I wouldn't wear heavy socks with the loafers, but I would with the boots. I traced, Beans figured, the shoes fit.
I placed the envelope for my order in the mail box while I was waiting for the school bus and 2 weeks later I had my stuff. The sweater, the shoes, the boots (which are still made in Maine) ... everything was of a great quality.
The penny loafers died a noble death on the streets of NYC when the sole ripped and the cobbler told me "these-a good shoes but you need-a buy new".
The Bean boots lasted for 30 years. I did have to have the leather resewn onto the boot once, and then I replaced the boot. Unfortunately, then the leather rotted out while I was living in the Tropics.
The Beans pledge of taking anything back at any time for any reason is still in effect. They have reinstituted the "free shipping" policy, and their merchandise is well priced.
If you wonder where to do your shopping this Christmas, I suggest you go to www.LLBean.com and go wild! Be One With the Bean!!!
I can't tell you exactly when I became aware of L.L. Bean, it's just always been part of my life. When I was a kid, Dad would take hunting trips to Maine with his buddies and midnight stops at L.L. Bean in Freeport were a part of that tradition. Dad brought home stuffed animals, kid sized snow shoes (the old school kind made of wood and tanned leather), birch bark Moose calls, and one time a basket backpack "just like the Indians used to use". That basket was awesome and I loved it.
The L.L. Bean catalog was in my home just as often as the Sears Christmas Book catalog.
I poured through the pages to look at the hunting gear, the camping gear, the fishing gear. Oh, what I wouldn't do for a split bamboo fly rod!!!
And the clothes! The fairisle sweaters (and sweater dresses), the patch madras dresses and skirts, the great coats and the shooooeeess..... sigh... penny loafers with leather soles, hand made in Maine. And you could really put a penny in them (though the style at the time was to use dimes so you'd have money for a phone call - take that whippersnappers!).
My very first "on my own" purchase from L. L. Bean was a pair of penny loafers, a pair of the uber stylish Bean boots (6" and there were no color options then), and a navy blue "Norwegian Fisherman's Sweater". Believe it or not, I still have that sweater. I think it might even fit.
I remember that I saved the money from my first job - scooping ice cream at Charlie's -and gave it to my Mom who wrote a check for me. There were no shipping fees then, and if you went into the store the prices were exactly the same as in the catalog. Because L.L. Bean picked up the shipping fees, they didn't have a toll-free number and I used to know their number by heart. The area code is 207.
When I filled out the order form for my first order, I wasn't really sure of my shoe size so I called the customer service number. The kind lady at the other end of the phone told me to trace my foot and they'd figure it out. She reminded me that I'd have to do it twice as I wouldn't wear heavy socks with the loafers, but I would with the boots. I traced, Beans figured, the shoes fit.
I placed the envelope for my order in the mail box while I was waiting for the school bus and 2 weeks later I had my stuff. The sweater, the shoes, the boots (which are still made in Maine) ... everything was of a great quality.
The penny loafers died a noble death on the streets of NYC when the sole ripped and the cobbler told me "these-a good shoes but you need-a buy new".
The Bean boots lasted for 30 years. I did have to have the leather resewn onto the boot once, and then I replaced the boot. Unfortunately, then the leather rotted out while I was living in the Tropics.
The Beans pledge of taking anything back at any time for any reason is still in effect. They have reinstituted the "free shipping" policy, and their merchandise is well priced.
If you wonder where to do your shopping this Christmas, I suggest you go to www.LLBean.com and go wild! Be One With the Bean!!!
Nov 7, 2012
Today. Sigh.
So, we just lived through Mega Storm Sandy, my heart is so heavy from current events that I can hardly see straight, and it's snowing (about which I am happy), so I can't go on my "safari" to the Christmas Tree Store (about which I am NOT happy).
I'm going to the library to return the books I took our for Sandy and to stock up for this Nor'easter. sigh.
This soup is what I'm making for dinner. I will chop up a ham steak and mix it in after I use my immersion blender to make the soup a little smoother - and to hide the actual amount of broccoli my child is ingesting
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2011/11/broccoli-cheese-soup/
I hope this link isn't a no - no since I'm being clear about where this recipe came from!
Keep on Gruve'n and be extra nice to your friends. They love you and everyone deserves to be happy.
I'm going to the library to return the books I took our for Sandy and to stock up for this Nor'easter. sigh.
This soup is what I'm making for dinner. I will chop up a ham steak and mix it in after I use my immersion blender to make the soup a little smoother - and to hide the actual amount of broccoli my child is ingesting
http://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/2011/11/broccoli-cheese-soup/
I hope this link isn't a no - no since I'm being clear about where this recipe came from!
Keep on Gruve'n and be extra nice to your friends. They love you and everyone deserves to be happy.
Nov 6, 2012
Baked Ziti
Hello.
I spent yesterday with a the local kids from a social organization that MiniMe belongs to.
I made lunch for them.
Some of the members are teen aged boys.
So I made 100 pounds of baked ziti.
And they ate 75 pounds of it.
I have questions -
Why are teen aged boys given the metabolism I pray for?
What should I do with the other 25 pounds of baked ziti?
Why oh why, does my baked ziti go dry?! (I did not do the recommended al dente, either, I cooked that pasta!)
Why are corner brownies so much better than the rest of the pan?
I spent yesterday with a the local kids from a social organization that MiniMe belongs to.
I made lunch for them.
Some of the members are teen aged boys.
So I made 100 pounds of baked ziti.
And they ate 75 pounds of it.
I have questions -
Why are teen aged boys given the metabolism I pray for?
What should I do with the other 25 pounds of baked ziti?
Why oh why, does my baked ziti go dry?! (I did not do the recommended al dente, either, I cooked that pasta!)
Why are corner brownies so much better than the rest of the pan?
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