Wednesday, January 20, 2016

In No Particular Order

Disorder is the nature of the genius and the idiot alike. Maybe better said, finding order or calm in chaos is what good people do.

I have not sat down to do this in too long. Here I am. I'm still here.

Things I think: 
I like winter when it snows. I'm not afraid of ice and snow and feel comfortable walking and driving in both. I like the challenge and the clean coldness. I have a mind of winter. I am the snowman.

It's hard to be married.

It's hard to be divorced.

It's hard to raise a kid.

Humanity is totally off their rockers.

Facebook is so totally fucking stupid.

Why do we shame ourselves and each other and then pretend to try to reverse that by lifting each other up and then shame each other for feeling bad in the first place? Why? There are about two hundred million articles on NOT shaming: our bodies, mothers, parenthood, cell phone use, taking time for yourself, drinking, not drinking, women, nudity, perversions, killers, innocents, "the world", love, gays, gay love, straight love, old-fashioned love, lust, and on NOT shaming Amy Schumer's tummy, thighs, thoughts, jokes, nasty sex, slutty nature, clothing, drinking, coke habit. (Hey Amy, I told you that you would eventually make it into my blog, so BAM!)  So much time spent on not shaming. It's shame, really.

Things I know: 
I am included in humanity.

I shame myself and others. (And then read those stupid fucking articles about loving myself and all of you assholes for who we are. It's a sin and a shame and worse, a HUGE WASTE of time, which, is the thing that is most shameful. Feel bad about losing time to stupid, fake, useless, non-life-changing articles. )

I'm a good mother and love my kid.

I liked being married.

I like being divorced.

I miss my family.


We make our lives harder than our lives really are. It's not that hard, yo. It's just not. Watch Shameless for two hours or drive to the worst neighborhood that you can think of and sit there for two hours on a Friday night, and tell me again how bad we have it?

The economy is about to tank again, so pay off your debts and save some moolah now.

Buy a house now if you can. Interest rates are about to go crazy. (insider trading right here people.)

Will I ever win PowerBall?

If my friends win, will they give money or something? Or is it like, whatevs, H, row your own boat.

How many New Year's Resolutions are now being unfulfilled?

How many more dudes in their 60's will die this week/month?

Isn't 60/70 pretty young these days?

Did Bowie beat his wife? I can't remember.

Wednesday, January 6, 2016

More About Cooking, Less About Crying [It's Been a Month Since My Last Confession]

In my new enameled cast iron Dutch oven, I made sauerbraten. I brined four pounds of the bottom rump of a cow in vinegars, wine, juniper, bay, peppercorns, and mirepoix for three days, flipping it twice a day, adding more wine as needed. I attended to my hunk of meat dutifully and it paid off. After draining and reserving the brine, I dried the beast and rub him down with olive oil and sprinkled him with flour, salt, pepper, and a bit of leftover brown sugar. Then, I browned that beefy chunk in the same pot (I LOVE ONE POT WONDERS!), golden and beautiful on all sides. I added the reserved brine in all it's tangy, bloody flavor back to the tasty bovine and cooked that monster (stovetop) for four hours. 

Once the meat was perfect, and resting, and the whole place smelled of vinegar meaty delights, I sieved the broth (no longer called brine since it's been cooked) and, in the same pot, melted butter added flour and whisked until dark golden brown. I added the broth and whisked my little heart out--smashing lumps, creaming the gravy--and then, wait for it... I added smashed up old-fashioned gingersnaps to the gravy. What?!?!?! That's right. I beat those bad boys right in the gravy until they became creamy, sweet, sour deliciousness. Gravy Gravy Gravy Gravy!

Sauerbraten is only made once or twice a year for a reason--the reason being that I am NOT a stay-at-home mom and cannot usually attend to a hunk of beef for four days, ya heard? That and, I'm not much of a meat eater. Vegetables usually rule the roost around here. 

This old world German delight was served with spaetzle and red cabbage and dry red wine as is customary in the old country, a country that I am not from. Prost!