Horsey kind of morning

This is what I posted on Facebook:

We were out late last night at a Official Dallas Stars game (which went to a shootout), and even later after being stuck in the astonishing traffic on 114 WB (one HOUR to go from the 121 merge to William D. Tate). So I was still asleep at six this morning, when our dogs started just going nuts barking. After trying to shush them repeatedly, I threw open the front door, saying, "Look, there's NOTHING out there. Now shut UP!" And there were two horses standing in the front yard.

Nope, not something that happens every day. Yes, we found the owners, who came and got them. Best part: our neighbor across the driveway, who got a picture of them drinking out of his birdbath, said he noticed they were there when one of them came up onto his front porch.

Not sure what I can add to that. One of my friends commented that she wished she could have seen my face. Me, too!

I'll see if I can get the drinking-from-the-birdbath photos from Jay to share.

Wow!

Encyclopædia Britannica sends out an "On This Day" email every day (go here to sign up —it's usually pretty interesting). The edition for today, 2/1/13, highlights an amazing fact:

You wouldn't think their influence would have been felt that far, would you? Even more amazing is the fact that the distance they mention, 32.7 million km, appears a second time in the same email:

This kind of thing makes me feel so much better about any mistakes I make. Thanks, EB!)

Does anyone know…

…what I did with the paper window shades when I took them down last Fall? I came across another one I need to store with them. Anyone? No? Yeah, me neither.

That's what my memory is like these days.

Oh! And the mystery dinner. Not great that night, cooked in the slow cooker. But the next day, simmered for a few hours on the cooktop, fantastic! Tender and flavorful, all the pieces. When they said stew is better the next day, I always thought it was an optional thing.

Mystery dinner

So you take a grass-fed, antibiotic-free cow and butcher it. Cut it into more or less standard cuts, then take everything that's left over and cut that into small pieces. Slap all those together, label it, "Stew meat," and let some hapless home cook try to make something from it.

I don't doubt the quality at all, but I'll be surprised if the texture and flavor isn't all over the place. I'll let you know after dinner tonight.

No more, 'kay? Oh yeah! And happy holidays.

Sometimes these days the phrase, "Enough is enough," stays in the forefront of my mind.

I stopped watching media coverage of the horror in Newtown within about twelve hours. We were never fortunate enough to have children, though I very badly wanted to, so I don't have a parent's perspective on the worst loss anyone could ever suffer. But because we were never fortunate enough to have children, I have an acute awareness of just how precious they are. I realize just what it is those families have lost.

And while it's trivial in the larger scheme of things (just making sure you know I haven't lost perspective), I'm also a hockey fan. Love my Dallas Stars. Love going to all the games. And the NHL is about to implode. They've lost half a season and both sides are taking irreversible action against the other. That particular fun, that particular "passion" is about to be gone, with ever-diminishing hope of reviving it.

The thing is, I can only think about the bad things that are happening for so long. The sadness and grief about the tragedy in Connecticut become overwhelming. The frustration and resentment about the NHL lockout grates, and doesn't do anything good for my blood pressure.

Plus I feel like I have an obligation to move along with this pretty great life I have. It is pretty great, and pretty cushy, despite some tough situations that are coming up: We have some family members who are a challenge to be around. Some old people whose health is declining. (I'm back to being afraid every time the phone rings. Sooner or later it will be that phone call.) Rich and I both have gone a very long time without work, and our financial situation is pretty grim at the moment. We have to come up with gifts, we have to pay taxes. And we're about to—again, as always, world without end amen—travel for the holidays.*

So I look at Twitter to get the latest updates. I watch the local news, and change the channel when they start repeating the same old information. I'm not going to get into (at least not right now) the debate about gun control, or reporters interviewing children, nor who's more at fault about the lockout or how they should #fireBettman. Maybe some other time.

For the moment, I'm focusing on the fact that things are good right now. Ten seconds from now it could be different, but right now everything's fine. And that'll have to do.

Happy holidays, everyone.





*We don't have to worry about the house being empty because we have a fantastic petsitter who very graciously moves in, with her significant other, while we're away.** But I can't help but worry about things here while we're far away. And it's just hard to be someone's houseguest for so long.

**No, you can't have her.

Chicken & dumplings

At my friend Marion's request, here's my absolutely bitchin' recipe for chicken and dumplings. Well, not so much my recipe as Southern Living's, published in their 1981 Annual Recipes (yeah, I'm old). I could have taken a picture of this last night, since that's what we had for dinner, but I didn't. Next time. (Rich will be so disappointed to hear I need to make this again to take a picture. It might be his very favorite thing I cook. Honestly, it may be mine, too.)

Old Fashioned Chicken and Dumplings

Ingredients:

     3 cups all purpose flour
     1 tablespoon baking powder
     1 teaspoon salt
     1 cup chicken broth
     1/4 cup vegetable oil

     3–4 quarts chicken broth

     Cooked chicken, shredded

To cook:

Combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Add the chicken broth and vegetable oil; stir until the dry ingredients are moistened. Turn out onto a large, generously floured surface. Roll the dough to 1/16" thickness. Using a pizza cutter if you have one, or a knife if you don't, cut the dough into 5- x 1-inch strips.

Bring the broth to a full boil. Drop in the dumplings, one at a time. Cover, lower the heat so it won't boil over, and cook for 15 minutes. Stir in the chicken. Add salt and pepper to taste. Continue cooking, uncovered, until desired thickness is reached.

A few notes:

You really ought to use some of the broth to cook the chicken. Just add that broth to the pot with the rest of it after the chicken is done. I normally use a pressure cooker, but you can also stew or simmer it—your choice. I use 5 or 6 boneless, skinless thighs, but you can use whatever pieces you have handy and thawed. You just want to end up with a few cups (or whatever amount you like) of cooked chicken. I'd advise against adding vegetables when you cook the chicken, because it muddies up the flavors pretty quickly, but that's just my personal preference. And using the b/s thighs, I scrape off the visible fat first. After it's done, tear or shred into bite-size pieces (it's not as good if it's cubed).

I use a pastry cloth, i.e., a piece of canvas from my local fabric shop, to roll out the dough. You can also use a plastic or silicon sheet, or just a clean countertop, generously floured. Wherever you do it, make sure you've got a large area. Seriously, it takes a good-sized piece of counter real estate, maybe 2-1/2 feet square. And, yes, really, 1/16". The dumplings swell up as they cook, so if you start with them any thicker than that, you're going to end up with slabs. I like to take the dumplings off the pastry cloth after they're cut and layer them on a plate, sprinkling them frequently with flour so they won't stick together too much. That speeds up the process of dropping them in the boiling broth quite a bit.

If your schedule calls for it, or if you just prefer, after you mix the chicken in you can transfer the whole shebang to a slow cooker. Cook it on 'Low' until you're ready to eat. And, slow cooker or not, if it looks like it's not going to thicken up enough, mix a tablespoon or so of flour with cool broth or water, stir it in, and cook for a few more minutes.

This recipe is not only great comfort food, it's also perfectly suitable for delicate stomachs. No spices, nothing hard to digest…I used it to get over a case of Delhi Belly after returning from India, and fed it to Rich as he recovered from a terrible case of food poisoning a few years ago. An all-around good recipe to keep handy.

I think I'll go have some leftovers for lunch. Bon appetit, Marion!

Espresso, or why my kitchen looks that way

This is like mine. You can buy this one for $17 on eBay

About a hundred years ago, I was given an espresso machine. It was a little Krups home espresso maker. Back in those days, it was considered a nice enough home machine. I had just discovered cappuccino—in Milan, thank you very much—and was thrilled at being able to have it whenever I wanted (this was before Starbucks). But as so often happens with specialized kitchen equipment, it turned out to be more trouble than it was worth, and the machine was hard to clean, to boot. So I stuck it up in a cabinet and forgot about it.

Fast forward twenty years or so. I've recently discovered that the only thing better than coffee made with Starbucks coffee beans, freshly ground right beforehand, and brewed in a best-in-the-world Technivorm coffee maker is a cup of coffee from Starbucks with a shot or two of espresso in it.* The espresso turns the coffee into a whole new experience—bolder but smoother than coffee alone. I know! You'd think very concentrated coffee added to strong coffee would equal something like battery acid, but it's just the opposite.

So for some months now, far too often, I've been going to Starbucks for coffee with espresso in it instead of just making coffee at home**.

Then I finally remembered that little Krups machine. Without fussing with the steamed milk (which was what made cleanup so hard), it might be worth hauling it out and using it. After some effort and a few delays (which is a whole 'nother long story), I now have a little Krups espresso machine on the kitchen counter beside the Technivorm, fully equipped and ready to work.

I've used it four days now. And I'm learning:

• If you use the same beans for espresso that you use for coffee (and grind them the same) espresso can be bland. (Day 1)
• It's impossible to get coffee from the grinder to the Krups machine's filter basket without spilling it all over the counter. (Day 1)
• If you leave the grounds in the filter holder to cool off and forget about them 'til late in the day they solidify into concrete and become a more-or-less permanent part of the filter basket. (Day 1)
• Just using more of those same beans you use for coffee doesn't help with the blandness. (Day 2)
• If you try to empty the filter holder as soon as you make the espresso, before the grounds harden, the filter holder is going to be hot. All parts of it. Very hot. (Day 2)
• If you buy Espresso Roast at Starbucks and get them to grind it, you can fix both the blandness and spilled ground problems. (Day 3)
• If you flip that little plastic piece on the filter holder closed, it keeps the filter basket in place, so you can empty it while the grounds are hot. (Day 3)
• Still, you'd better be careful to not touch the metal parts. (Day 3)
• Unscrewing the lid of the water reservoir doesn't relieve all the pressure in the machine, even if it's completely finished brewing and you think it does. (Day 4)
• Releasing the filter holder while there's still pressure behind it causes a coffee ground explosion. Literally. It blows coffee grounds everywhere—all over the carafe, the drip tray, the surrounding counter in all directions, the top of the machine and, most significantly, back up into the machine where only a toothpick and bitter, bitter tears will even begin to budge them. (Day 4)

Yeah. At this point, 75¢ a shot is looking like a pretty smart investment.

*For my taste, a short (8 oz) cup needs one shot, i.e., a "Red Eye." A tall (12 oz) cup needs two shots (a "Black Eye"). I don't know what they call three or more shots. I'm guessing "Never close your Eyes again."

**I do have to point out that I just get brewed coffee which, at this writing, is $1.65 for a tall when you bring your own cup. I don't actually spend $5 on coffee, though adding shots does start pushing it in that direction.