Cribbage

I learned to play Cribbage yesterday.  The game is unlike any card game I've ever played.  In fact, the game it reminded me most of wasn't a card game at all, but Calvinball.



This game, invented by Calvin and Hobbes has only one rule, and that's that you make up the rules as you go along.

Cribbage has such weird scoring rules, and has scores and points for so many different things, that I think someone like Calvin invented it.  He probably got some dupe to play cards, and kept making up ways to get points as the game went along.  "Oh, I just turned over a Jack, and that's called "Nibs," and I get two points for that."  Then later in the game, "Oh, the Jack I have in my hand is the same suit as that card, so I'll call that "Nobs" and take a point for that."

"Oh, I just played a card that added up to 15 with the card you played, so I get two points for that."

"Oh, you can't play that card because with the four previous cards we played that makes more than 31.  I'll go ahead and take a point for that."



Next time I play, I'm going to bring base wickets.

Green Beans

Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday.  Hard to compete with Christmas, but that's spread out over so many days that Thanksgiving probably gets the best concentration of cheer on a single day.  For the past four years, I've made the entire meal except for dessert.  This year I'm single, so no point in making the whole meal just for me.  My brother hosted me and two of my sisters' families.  This muse is all about the food.

My brother smoked a turkey and so was also responsible for the dressing and gravy.  All were delicious.  His wife's family has a traditional dish of a lemon jello-type dish made with cottage cheese.  It was fantastic.  Oldest sister brought yams and made a cobbler with peaches, blackberries, and raspberries for dessert.  Middle sister made cheesy biscuits that were sweet and yummy.

I was responsible for mashed potatoes, a vegetable (I was going to do Brussels Sprouts--don't judge), and a banana cream pie.  I left the sprouts at home (oops!) so I had to improvise on the veg.  Middle sis was planning to do something with green beans, but let me commandeer them and try something new with them.  Here's the result:

Here's the recipe, if you can call this musing a recipe:

Vanilla and Pomegranate Green Beans with Bacon
Green Beans, like two hands full (that's what you can hold in two hands, twice)
Pomegranate Seeds
Half pound of good, thick bacon
Pomegranate Juice (not a blend)
A little sugar
Half-stick of soft butter
Vanilla bean
Salt and pepper

Reduce about 1 to 1.5 cups of pomegranate juice with about 1/4 cup sugar in a sauce pan until less then half in volume and thick.  This will take a half hour at least.

Scrape the seeds from the vanilla bean and stir them into the butter.  Maybe make extra of this to put on rolls.  It's delicious.

Cut the bacon into 1/2-inch pieces and cook those until crispy.  Keep about half the grease in the pan.

Blanch the green beans in boiling water for about three minutes.  Drain and put in ice water to stop them cooking.  Put the pomegranate seeds in a big bowl.

Once the beans are cool, drain them on paper towels so you don't get as much popping when you sautee them.  When mostly dry, put into the bacon grease over medium high heat, season with salt and pepper, and stir until heated.  Add the crispy bacon and stir that for a minute or so.  Then dump this into the bowl on top of the seeds.  Put in the vanilla butter and toss or stir so the butter melts and coats the beans and seeds.  (Almonds might be good in here, too, but older sister has trouble with nuts.)

Pour this out onto a platter or serving bowl, and then drizzle it with the 1/2 cup or so of pomegranate syrup that you've reduced.  Take a picture and put that on your blog and on facebook.

Mashed Potatoes and Parsnips
This is a secret I maybe shouldn't give away, but it's not original to me, so whatever.  This is a great dish and always impresses because no one has ever had mashed potatoes that taste like this.  And since parsnips are just white, they add a unique flavor without changing the color or consistency of the mashed potatoes.

Make mashed potatoes like you always would, but before adding potatoes to the boiling water, boil parsnips (about half as much by weight as potatoes, cut about the same size) for a few minutes first.  (The parsnips need to be quite tender for their core to mash well.)  When all are tender, drain them and mash them as you normally would.  But, you can't use a beater or the parsnip cores won't mash and will float around looking ugly.  Use a potato masher.  I use butter and half-and-half with salt and pepper as my mash additions, but if you normally use garlic, cheese, sour cream, or whatever, the parsnips will really make them shine and bring a unique flavor.  This dish is great with gravy or without.

Happy Thanksgiving, dear readers.

Fried rice

I went speed dating last weekend.  (I didn't feel well, but I was on the branch committee that planned it, so I was obligated to go.)  In one of my three-minute sessions we got talking about food.  I like to cook, so it's a good topic for me.  She asked my favorite food, which I responded was steak, but I never cook it.  Steak is one of those things best done by real experts, and, especially when cooking a great piece of meat over a fire, I really screw it up.

I realized that the things I love to cook the best are those things that I can make better than I can get at a restaurant.  Saturday I discovered that one of those dishes is fried rice.  (If this were a proper food blog, there would be pictures of the fried rice I made Saturday, but it's not, and I didn't take any pictures.)

I've made rice a lot since I got back from Japan and I had some leftover.  Plus, I was on the bananas, rice, applesauce, and toast (BRAT) diet because of the stomach flu.  Saturday afternoon the bananas gave me non-stop gurgly-murglies and totally embarrassed me in the men's room at the Salt Palace.  (The guy in the other stall started cracking up after my symphony.  "Sounds like you ate something really good," he said.  Stall doors closed.  Anonymity protected.  But is this turning into a potty blog?)  So, I knew it was rice on the menu Saturday night.

Fried Rice

Oil (I use Olive)

Garlic

Ginger

Onion

Carrots

Broccoli (other veggies would also good)

Peas

Ham

Soy Sauce

Rice Vinegar

Sesame Oil

Oh, and rice

And eggs.

I had some leftover rice, and only use Calrose.  So heat up the oil.  I use fresh ginger with a fine mesh grater, like you'd use for nutmeg.  Grate that in (I like a lot) along with chopped or minced garlic.  (I don't measure quantities.  If you like garlic and ginger, put it a lot, if not, use a little.)  I had diced the carrots and onions into small pieces, and then put those in.  Stir it around plenty.  It will smell delicious. I usually add a little salt and pepper, but not a lot of salt because the soy sauce later will make it plenty salty. I like to keep both the carrots and onions a little crunchy, so I don't let them go too long while I chop the broccoli into tiny florets and add those.  I add a little soy sauce at this point, which from now on I will call shoyu, because my dad went on a mission to Japan, and that's what we call it.  After cooking that a bit, I like to add the ham so it will have a little crunch and blackness to it from cooking a bit in the hot oil.  Again, it's diced pretty small, like you've seen when you've eaten fried rice before. 

Now for the rice and flavorings.  You may need some more oil at this point so the rice doesn't stick to your pan, so make sure you have enough oil.  Dump in the rice.  Don't dump in more than will fit, that's my guidance.  That's less than you think, because stirring the rice in that skillet or wok is going to make a mess.  Then add more shoyu, the rice vinegar and a little sesame oil.  How much?  Enough shoyu so the rice is brown.  Enough vinegar so it tastes like you want, and not so much sesame oil that it will be all you can taste.  I start with less then I think I'll need, and then add more until it tastes right.

As the rice gets warm, I add frozen peas and stir that around.  Then I scramble a few eggs, stirring them so they break into small, bite-sized pieces, and add those.  Tada!  Saturday I had it with a simple chicken breast in teriyaki sauce (Soy Vey), and tonight I had some leftovers with potstickers.  Delicious both times.  I really feel badly about having no pictures here.  I wasn't thinking ahead.  

Next time.

Nose vomit

This week I got a stomach flu.

Wednesday I had a temple date.  We went to Zupa's, which is always tasty.  I ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup.  I was being so good, right?  I was even being good other days--much better, food-wise, than usual.  I had eaten school lunch (all healthy, Mrs. Obama), yogurt, fruit, and veggies with dinner.  All the good stuff. But after dinner during a session at the temple, I could tell things weren't right.

Man, did I pray to feel better.  How embarrassing would it be to rush out in the middle of an endowment session?  Would everyone think that I suddenly didn't feel worthy?  And what about the guy whose work I was doing?  He must've been so excited when I came in.  Sorry, dude.

About an hour in, I found a good time to excuse myself and rushed out.  I think there's not a lot of cause for visitors to use the restrooms on the upper floors of the temple, because no one knew where they were.  But I found the men's room, and just in time.

It was a bit like this.



But more orange.  Needless to say, I had to bleach my whites.

After I had purged all that yummy tomato soup, I waited for my date so I could take her home, like a gentleman would.  Also like a gentleman would, I made sure to stop at a storm drain for my vomit stop on the way home. "Excuse me for a minute," I said, all gentlemanly, as I got out of the car and spewed into the sewer.  And like a true lady, she had tissue all ready for me when I got back in the car.

It's dates like this that can really bind a couple.

Denver is occupied

While on the way to Steuben's Food Service for a disappointing lunch, I found more disappointment getting there.  Timing just couldn't have been worse.  Just as we got to within a few blocks of the restaurant driving downtown, this started walking by:

Those are the Occupy Denver protesters about to stage a sit-in twenty yards in front of me while I was in desperate need of chicken and waffles.  So, twenty minutes go by.  Do does a guy shouting to everyone that Wells Fargo is guilty of predatory lending.  Protesters sat in the middle of the road, why, I don't know, other than to be specifically annoying.

All I wanted to do was go to eat at this restaurant corporation I'd seen on TV on a station owned by a massive other corporation.  But, then I own a corporation, so I'm part of the problem.

Steuben's Food Service

I love Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives.  I'm talking about the show, but I also like to eat at Diners, and at Drive-ins, and at Dives--at least good ones.  And the show highlights good ones from all around the country.  On a whim a few years ago I went to the show's website and suggested they come out to Utah to feature Ruth's Diner, which has okay food and fantastic location up Emigration Canyon.  A few weeks later, I got a phone call from them inviting me up to the restaurant when they'd be shooting a segment there.  Here's the result:



And here's me at Guy Fieri's Camaro.

So, whenever I travel, I check out this website that shows all the places that have been in the show on a map, with links to the videos on youtube and menus.  I've been to a few, including Chino Bandido, a Mexican/Jamaican/Chinese place in Phoenix. I can't recommend that place highly enough.

Today I'm in Denver and I went to Steuben's Food Service, which had a great video and looked so awesome.  It's built in a former auto repair garage, and they kept the garage doors and some of the ambiance.  It's not as kitchy as Donnie Mac's Trailer Park Cuisine in Boise, but it still looked fun.  

But I was disappointed. My sister ordered the Lobster Roll, which was highlighted in the show.  My nephew got the Shrimp Po'Boy.  I had wanted to try the roasted chicken from the show, but it wasn't on the weekend brunch menu, so I got chicken and waffles.

The chicken was actually really good, spicy breading, and who would have guessed, but even better with a little maple syrup.  The waffles were fine, too, but the meal was cold.  Nephew said his roll on the sandwich was stale.  The place was all I had hoped on the ambiance side, but left a little to be desired on the food front, so I wouldn't go back.

Vegetables and Celine Dion

I like to eat at Chinese buffets. They are inexpensive and have good vegetables.  They have plenty of non-vegetables, but I can always get some fresh broccoli and green beans, and I don't know any other place for such at lunch.  I never order salads when I go to restaurants.  It's a weakness, but that's what it is.  If I want to eat some veggies, a Chinese buffet is where to go.

Today I was at Hong Kong Buffet in Cedar City.  I recommend it.  Independent of the two stories below.

Once I was there with a friend.  We were piling up plates and someone walked out of the kitchen.  While the door was open, someone back in the kitchen audibly hocked a loogie.  (I assume he just needed to clear his throat--happens to all of us right?  The point isn't that it was gross, it was just a setup to Bob's punchline.)  Bob said, "That's how they make egg drop soup."

Today they were playing some random Chinese music for the first few minutes I was there.  That happens at Chinese restaurants, and it's not a bother.  But today, the next song was by Celine Dion.  And the next one, and the next one.  The restaurant was playing a best of Celine CD while I'm trying to enjoy Sesame Chicken and sugared biscuits!

Have you ever noticed that when you listen to Celine Dion, things just seem to look and sound worse?  The Lo Mein suddenly looks like pin worms, and the Egg Drop Soup looks like, well, you know.

Cultures

It was a cultural weekend.  On Friday and Saturday, I saw what you might call Utah's cultural bookends.

On Friday, I went to the Heber Cowboy Poetry Festival.  I've never been to anything like it.  Well, that's not ture.  It's not that unlike other small town fairs, except for the theme.  There were booths of people selling arts, crafts, clothes, jewelry, and toilet paper dispensers made of bridles.  You know, the kind of stuff you can find at the Farmers' Market at Pioneer Park.

There was also a vendor selling Cowboy Bubble Bath.

Besides potty humor, there was some awesome looking costumes and art.  Nothing was cheap (sculptures went up to $3,500), but it was mostly amazing.  One photographer has captured some great pictures of wild horses, which she showcased in albums with pictures of weddings.  She'll just drive out on ranges with her camera, find the wild horses, and then get out and follow them around for a few hours, and her results were amazing.

At least I think they were fighting.

So, walking and marveling at the booths took plenty of time, but the real reason to go is for the concerts and readings.  There is in fact a lot of poetry at the cowboy poetry festival.  Poets take turns on stage with country singers and bands.  Scratch that, it's not country music, it's western music.  The best we heard was from Carin Mari and Pony Express.  She's a 17-year-old girl who plays with her older and younger brother. Here's a video of the song we heard that makes me think she's got a future.

 

And then the poems.  MCs at concerts would suddenly break into rhyme.  I'm not sure what the difference between cowboy poetry and regular poetry is, but we did hear a poem about old people losing their teeth when they rodeo.

There were also some big has-beens (I say that very kindly) at the event, including Suzy Bogguss, whom my sister loves, but I didn't get to see her.  We did sneak into the Michael Martin Murphey concert. He sang a bunch of songs I've never heard.  Lots of banjo and guitar, and no percussion.  The music was actually really awesome for that.

I'd go again. Even though you can see booths and free concerts at about any small-town fair, I've never seen this much of this culture anywhere else.

To round out the weekend I went to the Utah Symphony for the first time on Saturday.  I suited up, had a nice salmon dinner and sat in Abravenel Hall for Beethoven's Seventh Symphony, one of my favorites.  I would have paid $50 just to watch the conductor--the music was just dessert.  Seriously.  The folds in his tailed jacket were worth the price of admission.  He looked a lot like this:

 

And since I think I've never heard the 7th symphony without waving my arms to it (it's about as peppy as the above), it was hard to sit still.  My date had to tell me to tone it down.  Beethoven's seventh symphony has the distinction of being the only of Beethoven's symphonies to be featured in an episode of Seinfeld.  (I couldn't find a video to embed, but you can go here and see it at the :36 second mark.)  The second movement is awesome also, and it's the underscore in the king's speech section of The King's Speech.

I used the restroom before the symphony started, and, as I suspected, the toilet paper dispensers were not made of bridles.  It's a completely different kind of culture.

Didit

A didit is what you call someone doing or saying something obviously wrong out of habit or lack of any forethought.  Something like saying "Where are my sunglasses?" when they are on your head.  Everyone does didits at one time or another.

Today I was working with a friend cutting, carrying, and installing fiberglass insulation.  We learned by experience two days before that it's best to do this with gloves, long sleeves, and masks.  (I inhaled some fiberglass particles doing this on the first day, so if I have a "coughing up blood" post in a few days, you'll know why.)  That's not a didit, just a learning experience.

When you're wearing those gloves and cutting thick fiberglass outside in the wind, fiberglass particles get caught on your gloved fingers, which, having thick gloves on them anyway, are already not very good for fine work.  So, Adam got a piece of fiberglass caught on his glove and then, wearing a white mask that covered his mouth and nose, raised his hand and tried to blow the fiberglass off.

That was a didit.

Fatal Fiesta

This is was my first Halloween as a single person since I was too old to go trick-or-treating.  (The last time I did that was 1998 when I was still a baby at 24.  I was a ghost with a sheet and collected candy on my knees.)  Single people, I find, usually don't stay home to pass out candy and make Harry Potter-themed meals (Like Cream of Whomping Willow Soup and Grindylow Cakes) like I used to do.

So, I helped plan and went to a Halloween murder mystery party, the Fatal Fiesta.  I played the Mayor of Fortunado, Diego Dumas, which opens up some great humor if you borrow a joke from The Shawshank Redemption, and becomes even better when everyone is using exaggerated accents.  I was having an affair with the victim, who was my adopted niece.

This party was a blast.  Everyone was into their character, was cracking jokes, and just ate the concept up along with virgin pina coladas.  I'd totally do one of these again, which I found at www.host-party.com.

Also, I won the Best Accent award that night, so that was nice.

UPDATE: A picture.

More potty stories

I was at Burgers Supreme in Provo last night.  They are remodeling.  Their booths have been ripped out and replaced with tables, and their chairs are mostly those white rented ones of cheap plastic you see at weddings.  Happily, despite the slummy environment, their fry sauce is still tasty.

I ordered and went to the restroom.  The men's room was also part of the renovation, so they had converted the women's room into a unisex.  Okay.  I push on the door to go in, and the door opens to the length of the safety chain.  You know when you push open a door like that you don't expect it to open just a few inches, and I was in a bit of a hurry to go, so I crashed into the door and made plenty of noise doing it.  The woman and her toddler daughter in the restroom were shriekingly surprised.  I know because they both shrieked.

I hurried back to the front so I could pretend I was in line to order when they came out.  The I surreptitiously sneaked back down the hall so I could take care of business.

They had removed one of the stall doors and turned it into a urinal, even though it was just really a toilet.  This could really be an uncomfortable situation if someone forgets to engage the safety chain on the front door.

By the way, the burger had pineapple on it and was pretty good.