Saying yes...

This judge calls a moratorium on meat chatter

Ok- we're barely two days into this year's Holiday Bake-Off season and the meat commentary has reached a fevered pitch. Meat commentary must cease until further notice if you want any points for your current Cookie Queen and one of this year's judges.

Last night, while innocently slumbering, this dream entered my head (sorry Pinko, no celebs that I could tell unless you count me, your Current Cookie Queen):

I dreamed last night that I was cooking up a bunch of meat in a pot (gack). There were ribs and other cuts that looked mainly like pork. I then noticed an arm! There was part of the hand on it, but no fingers, no skin, and it was boned!! It also looked like pork, which doesn’t surprise me given we’re supposed to be closest to pork. (I think the Papuans called humans, Long Pigs!!!) In my dream I told Grizzled, who in his best *raised by Depression parents* tone said, “Ah, just cook it up, it’ll be fine!” I refused to, but don’t recall how the dream ended.

I chalk it up to too much bake-off talk yesterday with people saying they were going to submit meat (whether on the hoof or in a recipe) and then going to bed with the news on and hearing that the Peterson man whose wife is *missing* had a relative help him dispose of a large barrel...

Anyone coming up with the idea of sending *limb-shaped* cookies will be disqualified.

Yes, it's only day 2 and I'm feeling cranky.

FYI for Pinko... the judges are as follows:

Me
AG
UC
Grizzled aka G-Unit
 

Apple Gacks!

We were up in Wisconsin this past weekend. It was beautiful fall weather, not too hot, not too cold. There was a brilliant blue sky and the leaves, although not fully tricked-out, were starting to get their autumnal groove on.

I ran to the store to pick up a few things and was told to grab some beer in case the basement fridge was empty. I had a lovely 12-pack of Blue Moon in my cart when all of a sudden I saw the Leinenkugel Apple Spice. I was under the spell of autumn and apples. I put back the Blue Moon and replaced it with the Leinie's. Why I didn't just buy both will be saved for another discussion on another day.

I wasn't really worried about the Apple Spice. I like Woodpecker hard cider so I figured if it veered towards that, it'd be good. I had also really liked Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy. Although not as good as a real Shandy, I thought it was still pretty tasty. Maybe Leinekugal had worked some more malt magic.

WRONG! WRONG, WRONG, WRONG! Did I saw, WRONG?!?!

Oh dear... if one looks at the label, the description says something about a touch of cinnamon. You smell the cinnamon the minute you open the bottle. The first sip was not bad... by the second sip, you're thinking there should probably not be a third, but then for some insane reason you think that burning spice feel on the back of your throat will mellow so you take another.

My palate searched for beer flavor... there was little to be had. My palate did detect the hard cider flavor which was not totally bad although ran a bit sweet for my taste. It probably would have been ok had it not then been used and abused by the overwhelming abundance of SPICE. It felt more or less like drinking potpourri.

No bottles that were opened were even near finished before being disposed of. I heard comments of how Leinie's must be competing with TJ Swann or Boone's Farm. Personally, I think it was right up there with Glade.

What amazes me is that this is its second season. Enough people enjoyed this to bring it back! If anyone out there is a fan of Leinie's Apple Spice, I'd love to know why. Maybe it's popular with people who don't want a beer to taste like beer. Maybe it's popular with people who think the Renuzit should taste as good as it smells...

There was a variety of beer left in the basement fridge so I was saved from hearing about the horrors of my purchase. I think it will be awhile though before I try any seasonal "flavor" beers again. God help me though it Leinie's rolls out an Egg Nog Lager come December.

Next stop, Southport!

My eldest lamblet is reveling in the fact that she no longer has to take the bus to school. The bus was exciting for her for about the first year or two and after that, its charms decreased exponentially as the days went by.

A couple of years ago, as the incubator on wheels rolled up carrying its latest load of downtrodden, viral and bacterial incubi, she looked at me and said, “Mom, I don’t like the bus, it smells.” I looked her straight in the eye and said, “It’s supposed to. The school bus is what steels you for future public transportation.”

I’ve had a love/hate relationship with public transportation. When I lived in the city, I found it to be a godsend, a reasonable way to get around when your destination was too far for a walk or the weather was not good. I’ve also found it to be a place where anything and everything can happen. Aside from the usual frustrations that accompany jamming a mass of irate humanity into a train at 5pm, it seemed I was what my friends called, a weirdo magnet.

I don’t know if it was my honest face, my kind aura, or the fact that I’m a sucker, I was the target for odd mass transit events, some too distasteful to mention here. I have though, been approached by the person requesting the time. I, starting to answer before looking up from my book, realized only too late that the man was literally wearing a tinfoil hat. He had just arrived on Earth and was not aware of the time change. I cut that conversation short after he asked me if I would take him sightseeing.  One other man started rubbing my face from behind. I felt my cheek being caressed only to hear him saying, “Your so soft.” As I was trying to make contact with the CTA personnel (a good reason to have CTA personnel in EACH car), the man suddenly launched off on to how I didn’t like him because he didn’t wear a tie and apparently I only liked men who wore ties! This outburst got the CTA personnel’s attention and the cheek caresser was removed.

Not all of my odd experiences on the L involved people seeking me out. Some merely involved people who were in close proximity. My freshly lip-glossed lips once became entangled in a woman’s furry coat. She was standing in the aisle, my seat faced the aisle. The train took a curve at a fast speed. You get the picture. Another time involved the often lurching stops the train would make. Once again, I was seated and the person I was to come into contact with was standing. It was a rather large man with an even larger belly. His shirt did not quite cover it and I could see that he was sweating. The train stopped, his belly did not. I was literally hit in the face with his moist, swinging flesh. He didn’t seem to notice. It was all I could do to not throw up.

I nearly lost it the day I was reading about Jeffrey Dahmer in the Sun-Times. The paper went into vivid detail of how he prepared his ill-gotten game. As I read, I could actually smell the sweet, rotting stench! It was different from the frequent urine odor that wafted through the cars and over the platforms. It wasn’t until I put my paper down that I realized it was a rotting corn cob that someone had jammed into the heating vent. Ah yes, just another day on the L.

So yes, I’m certain my daughter’s school bus smelled. I’m certain she was jammed in with people she did not want to be pressed against, but I also knew of rides to come and on those rides, the school bus will seem like nothing and she’ll remember it smelling of roses.

Fossil Futility

3 Bulls! as some of you know, runs a spot called Delicious or Disgusting in which one of their illustrious members samples some epicurean delight and deems it either Delicious or Disgusting. I must admit, they've been pretty much on the money with some of their critiques... of course, taste is subjective... but all in all, I must say, I'd pretty much trust these gents (except for plover... plover eats bugs).

Mr. Pinko Punko recently reviewed Ben and Jerry's, Fossil Fuel and gave it high marks. He even said the piece that went flying to the floor (he couldn't wait until it had been properly warmed) and was covered with dog hair was STILL delicious. Well, dear lord! Who wouldn't want to try that?? At least sans the dog hair.

After reading this rave review, I decided if we were in the market for ice cream, we'd give it a try.

Let me just say, "Gackety, gack, gack, gack!" I'm now not sure if Pinko's review was a rave or the rants of a raving lunatic!!!

Fossil Fuel, according to ice cream gods, B&J is: Sweet Cream Ice Cream with Chocolate Cookie pieces, Fudge Dinosaurs and a Fudge Swirl. I like chocolate, but found this to be a tad redundant. Personally, I think if you want that much chocolate, go buy a candy bar...

The next thing I noticed about Fossil Fuel was the GRIT. It was incredibly gritty! It took me back to my early childhood days of thinking it was OK to continue eating the apple you had just dropped in the sandbox. I did indeed taste the fudge, but the fudge was also gritty. I'm not a huge fudge fan, but if I'm going to have fudge, I prefer the creamier varieties. And speaking of creamy varieties... if I'm going to have ice cream, I'm prefer the creamy varieties! Is it not ice CREAM after all??? If you want ice grit, get a snow cone!

I must confess though that I am wondering if my grocer did not unload this ice cream fast enough to stop melting. Some of the *grit* could have been the result of thawing and refreezing thus compromising the ice cream integrity and replacing it with integritty. I also know that the cookie crumbs would lend grit, but I don't mind Cookies and Cream so why the problem with this variant?

In fairness, the lamblets loved it while I was done testing it after three spoonfuls. My eldest lamblet proclaimed it quite good and said that fossils are found in dirt and dirt is gritty so that aspect didn't bother her, but added to the realism. She was also really hungry and probably would have eaten head cheese had it been offered.

All in all I am not so upset that Fossil Fuel does not live up to preconceived ideas... I am more or less just disillusioned with one Mr. Pinko Punko... What's he going to do next??? Try to sell me on the rarity that is WHITE SUGAR?!?!!

Pinko is trying to tell me that this whole ice cream parting of ways is my fault... but I think he knows he is largely to blame for leading people astray. He has, after all, gone underground. Sure, we're supposed to think it's all because he's waiting for the Harry Potter release to be followed by a weekend of solitary reading... but I know better.

I can wait for you, Pinko Punko... I can wait a looooong, loooooong time!!!

 

Half-assed radish post Pt.II

Blue Girl has up a lovely post that shares a site she saw this past 4th. She saw an older man, a man of a different time, out for a drive... just him and his car. She mentions the fact that he probably doesn't have a blog and is not out looking for blog fodder 24/7. I commented that it is probably nice to be free of blog fodder worry.

Mr. Pinko Punko came along and commented as well. He had a solution to my blog fodder worries...

"Jennifer, the solution is to half-ass it.

RADISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

So, after thinking about it, and after seeing Idyllopus's latest comment, I've decided to go with a half-assed radish post, part II!!!

Yes, we did indeed sample the Snagradish. How could we not?? It sat there taunting us, daring us... it sat there in all of its mutant, purple sassiness, challenging us... I cleaned the Snagradish. It did appear to be free from blemish. Its bizarre purple color and unnatural size apparently not caused by fungus or infestation.

And then I sliced.

I expected to be overwhelmed with punge-osity. I was not. In fact, there was not much odor at all! Our other radishes were radiating their radish scent throughout the kitchen even before slicing, but this one... this radish was more or less emanating, "Meh!"

It's texture was more or less what you would expect from a root vegetable, firm yet yielding with just a touch of moisture. Even though the radishes has been planted and plucked late, it was not woody. It's texture though was not quite radishy. It had the smoother texture of a kohlrabi.

I took a bite and was surprised by its mellowness. Not only did the texture resemble the kohlrabi, but it's flavor seemed to be heading it its direction as well. It was also a little *turnippy*, but it's been awhile since I've tasted a raw turnip so I wasn't sure if I was remembering correctly.

I must admit, this radish was really rather lame! All of this purple swagger, all of this boasting of size... and then it hit me. The Snagradish started to roar. The Snagradish started to bellow. The Snagradish became downright hot in a way only your Eustachian tubes can appreciate and detest all at the same time. It was a lion-like finish considering its kitten-esque start.

Would I go out of my way to grow more Snagradishes? Probably not. I'm not even sure I could. UC thinks my mutant radish may have been an errant seed and is really just this. Fish thinks my mutant radish might really have been this. I'm not sure... I'm still betting on the fact that somewhere, somehow, time and meaning crossed in a way never before and met under the surface in my garden and the result was...

The Half-Assed Snagraaaaadishhhhh!!!

Blunacy

Clarification below.

The Blue Moon survival pack arrived! It was supposed to have 4 pints of Blue Moon ice cream from different ice creameries. It only had 3 so only 3 will be scientifically analyzed and written into the final report. To be honest, I'm almost glad there are only 3. I was feeling like a blunatic after merely sampling the 3.

As is clear to see though, the ice creams are actually quite different upon the initial visual inspection. There is an obvious difference in color and texture.

Taste test report to follow, but I think I need one more sampling to get the many layers that is Blue Moon and to be honest, I'm not sure I'm up for that today. I'm thinking today might be a good day to sample something from Snag's dessert repertoire.

Clarification- Oops, I typed this early this morning and thought I had included an important fact... although the Blue Moon survival kit was to contain four brands of Blue Moon, ours only contained three. Icecreamsource.com, however, sent us five pints for the same price. What they did not have in variety, the more than made up for in quantity. My lamblets were thrilled. I'm feeling a tad nauseous.