How to make Croutons (In this weather*?)

The House Rules, as you well know if you’ve read any of the rest of the posts, covers a vast array of topics. I often worry that the focus of the blog is too widely spread over home repair, architecture snobbery, political and religious musings, and recipes for your new favorite cocktails. I’ve been told so much by well meaning friends. To you folks, I apologize. But I love to write about all of the above and can’t be tethered by rules when so much of the rest of my life is mired in “what I’m supposed to do.” I write because it pleasures me (No, not like that.) and hopefully the wide range of topics will find their intended audience.

I’m not sure who that intended audience is, but if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll leave a comment telling us about yourself and why you enjoy it. Unless of course you are already a personal friend or relative, in which case, please make up an identity and tell me how wonderful I am just to boost my ego.

Anyways, housing is obviously about so much more than the bricks and sticks that we turn into a building. It covers so many things, not least among them, food. Here at our house, I love a good meal, and it must always include a protein, a starch, and two vegetables.

I’ve had some discussion with other family members on this and it’s a weird phobia several of us have of too few things on the plate at dinner time. Even if I make a killer stir fry using all of the above, I still have to round it out with two side dishes, minimum, and preferably at least one condiment or sauce. I’m not sure where this comes from, but I assume it has something to do with a father who grew up in an orphanage and was constantly begging for more gruel.

Now we have a decent budget for food between my wife and I, as my rapidly growing paunch can testify. But if we’re ever going to afford to replace the windows, replace the sidewalk, or pay our mortgage on time, we have to resort to cost cutting measures.

To that end, we make croutons.

If done correctly, croutons are more than a salad or soup topper. We eat homemade croutons as snacks on the couch whilst discussing the fate of the revolution or watching One Tree Hill. (I don’t ACTUALLY watch One Tree Hill so much as roll my eyes in derision towards the horrible plotting and dialogue. Which isn’t to say I can’t enjoy a good teen soap opera… Buffy the Vampire Slayer is probably the best show of all time.)

To make truly good, pop ‘em like mood stabilizers, croutons, you need nothing other than butter, oil, salt & pepper, spices if you like, and copious amounts of bread odds & ends. Every time we have a left over knob of stale Italian bread, Naan from a dinner party, old hot dog buns, English muffins, or the heel of the sandwich bread no one wants, it gets tossed into a bag in the freezer. When the bag is close to bursting, I pull it out to make croutons. They last for a long time once prepared, so producing in volume is the key to time effectiveness.

Croutons:

Odds and Ends of Bread, approx 1 – 1 ½ pounds

1 cup of butter (2 sticks), melted*

Salt and Pepper

Diced Herbs, Spices, Garlic, etc. as desired.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees.

For this round I’m using up all the extra hot dog and hamburger buns from the last family picnic. This is the ONLY boon to stupid bread vendors selling their buns in packs of 8 while they sell hot dogs in packs of 5 or 10.

Dice up all your bread components to an equal “cooking” size. If this is your first go at croutons, either cook identical bread types together or cut moister breads to a smaller size than your dry and flat breads. I like a 5/8” dice, but you may want something less anal. Use your own judgement.

Melt butter in the microwave or stovetop. *If you’re “health” inclined, you can halve the butter in the recipe and use ¼ cup of olive oil instead of the second stick of butter. For the love all that is good and holy, don’t use any of these tubs of substitute butter products made from some combination of oil, vegetable bits, and whale semen. Despite what “nutrition experts” might tell you, that crap just isn’t natural and I’m confident that in 10 years it will be linked to CP (Cerebral Palsy), SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome), and AWD (Acute Whininess Disorder).

In a large bowl, toss bread and melted butter. We at The House Rules like to use our hands for this step which can lead to some third degree burns. It’s a small price to pay for the joy of croutons.

Spread the bread bits on a flat cookie sheet in a single layer. You’ll have to use multiple sheets for a pound and a half of bread.

Salt and Pepper to taste. This is also the opportunity to try some different herbs and spices that you may wish to add for additional specificity of flavor. For this round, I made a chili chive crouton with a ½ tsp of onion powder, 1 tbs of ancho chili powder, and 1 tbs of garlic chives.

Put in the oven and bake, flipping once or twice until no sponginess remains and they are crispy crunchy crack-like goodness. I usually assume about 30 minutes, but time will vary based on the bread makeup.

Pull out of the oven and allow to cool before putting in Ziploc bags for future (or immediate) enjoyment.

*I wrote this post a while ago.  The Mrs. would very definitely advise you against trying to make croutons when its 95 degrees out such as now.  She can tell you that it makes a lot of heat in the summer.  Of course, she knows this because when I wrote this post, it was also 95 degrees out, so much consumption of icy alcoholic beverages was a necessary conjunctive activity.  Do as you wish.

Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce for the Slow Cooker

Ah the slow cooker... helpmate to any working professional's need for a fast dinner.  The best slow cooker recipes for the working stiff are ones that can be assembled at 7:30 AM in 15 minutes and are done at 6:00 PM.  The problem is that most recipes call for 8 hours of cooking, which just isn't long enough to get you through a work day.  And the anxiety ridden slow cooker manufacturers think that we're too dumb to figure out how to cook our food safely.  They're so concerned that if I pre-mix everything and let it stand for 1 or 2 hours before beginning the cooking process, Botulism will reign supreme and they'll be sued.  So they won't put a delay timer on any of their models.

To that end, we've resorted to one of those little timers that you get at the hardware store, like these:

 Its obnoxious, but it does the trick.  Anyways, we recently modified a recipe for a North African inspired "Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce".  Here's the rundown:

Spicy Chicken in Peanut Sauce

1 Tbs Olive or Vegetable Oil

8 Large Chicken Thighs or 6 Boneless Chicken Thighs, Skins Removed

1 Large Onion, chopped

2 Hot Chilies, Seeds & Stems Removed, Chopped

2 14.5 oz Cans Diced Tomatoes

1 14.5 oz Can Crushed Tomatoes

2 Tbs Honey

3 tsp Ground Cumin

1 ½ tsp Ground Cinnamon

1/3 cup Creamy Peanut Butter

1 tsp Salt

2 cups hot cooked couscous or Israeli Couscous

Shredded Carrots (Garnish)

Chopped Peanuts (Garnish)

1. Heat Oil in nonstick Skillet over Medium High.  Cook chicken in oil about 4 minutes, turning once to brown.  Also, if you're pressed for time in the morning, it'll be just fine if you just throw the chicken in there without browning.

2. Mix chopped onion, tomatoes, chilies, honey cumin and cinnamon in 4-5 quart slow cooker.  Add chicken and spoon some mixture over top, leaving the chicken at the top of the pot.  Toss another pepper if you like it really hot.

3. Cover and cook on low for 7 to 8 hours (or on high for 1 hour and turn down to low for 3-4 hours) until juice is no longer pink from thickest part of the chicken when cut.  Or, don't be a ninny, and just eat it.  Chicken on the slightly pink side never hurt anyone except those who are already frightened of life.

4.Remove chicken, stir in peanut butter until melted and blended.  Replace chicken if not ready to serve and make a cocktail.

5. Serve chicken and sauce over couscous with sprinkled carrots and peanuts.

Invasivore in the City

Not long ago, I wrote a post on “Stink Bug Eradication Techniques” which to my surprise has been my most popular entry in The House Rules.  To summarize, Stink Bugs took over the Eastern Seaboard about 10 years ago as an invasive species from China with no local predators.  In my blog, I encouraged readers to do the most natural thing imaginable and find a way to reduce the stink bug population, not through pesticides or a rolled up newspaper, but by making them into dinner.  Pate, Tacos, whatever.

Recently, I stumbled across this article in Slate which regarded the invasive Red Lionfish in the Florida Keys as a similar, but delectable menace.  It’s almost too beautiful to eat despite the great recipes in Lionfish Cookbook:  The Caribbean’s New Delicacy.

 The Red Lionfish

But that was just the tip of the melting iceberg.  Wit a little interwebbing, I discovered that unbeknownst to me, my idea was trending, and now there’s a term for this big ol' group of crazypants:  Invasivores.

In the wake of my post, other bloggers must have caught the same idea, including The Compact , Dot Earth  and Take Part.  Okay, I have no way of knowing that they got the idea from me, but what is the internet for if not unmerited hubris?

So what’s an invasivore here in Philly supposed to tackle?  Well Canadian Geese and Starlings are among the top 10 most costly invasive species in the US.  Garlic Mustard and Zebra Mussels are rapidly overrunning Pennsylvania’s waterways and forest undergrowth.

But when I think of Philadelphia, the most irritating,  loathsome, and possibly yummy options that spring to mind include:

 The Northern Snakehead

The Rock Pigeon

and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention

The Feral Cat

I need to pull out my copy of the Scavenger’s Guide to Haute Cuisine.  I know he had a chapter on Squab (Baby Pigeons) but I can’t recall if there was anything on Feline Pot Pie.

Infused Vodka

We've been infusing our own vodkas over the winter with much success...

So far, the delectable winners have been:

Cranberry Thyme Vodka (Batch #3 shown in pink below)
Clementine Clove Vodka
Blueberry Lemongrass Vodka

But we don't like:

Blackberry Thyme Vodka (shown in dark purple below)

I'm about to break into the Grapefruit Fennel Vodka which is the yellow tinged one that I just finished, shown here.  I'll let you know what we come up with for mixology opportunities.

And I just started a batch of Watermelon Basil Vodka.

Really the sky is the limit on these concoctions.  Just throw a handful of fruits, nuts, spices, whatever in a clean glass jar, pour a liter of vodka over top and let it sit in a dark place for a month.  Strain and serve.

One word of caution, don't try to infuse in the pretty bottles.  Getting grapefruit rinds out of a narrow necked bottle is a frikkin pain.  I had to fill the bottle with oven cleaner and let it sit for two days before I made any headway.  But fortunately I was buzzed from drinking other infused vodkas most of that time, so the wait didn't seem that long.

Throwing the Baby Out

The Sheffield sink we previously discussed was a success.  My clients liked it thoroughly, and are even excited about the potential of washing heretofore non-existent Grandchildren in it.  (I think the world can largely be divided into two groups of people, those who find this practice acceptable (aka Normal People) and those who find the practice abhorrent (aka Whineoceroses).

Unfortunately, as we begin to look at the kitchen cabinet layout in more detail, it just isn't going to fit in this kitchen space we have to work with.  Add to that the fact that the sink company's website has apparently ceased to function, and I'm in a proverbial pickle.

So the choices are to demolish a concrete block wall of possible load bearing function to make the kitchen bigger (not likely) OR to find a similar but smaller sink.  Grak, what's a baby washing grandma to do?

Were you washed in a sink as a baby?  Would you rather pay a hell of a lot of money to tear down a concrete block wall or have the option to wash your baby in the kitchen sink?  If you wash your baby in the kitchen sink while also soaking some corn on the cob to throw on the grill, is it child abuse or ecologically friendly thinking?

Dish Drying Rack et al...

I had seen this great idea for a folding dish rack above the kitchen sink in Philadelphia Magazine from a house near us in Chestnut Hill.  I don't think it will necessarily be applicable in the house I'm designing but I stumbled across it while searching for precedent and idea images of kitchens to show the client.  I thought y'all might like it.  Here's some of the other kitchen shots I'm collecting...

Thrunday- Raj Collins

So among the developments in recent months has been the healing of a deep seated rift in my marriage to my wife: namely, how to throw a party together.

We both knew that we loved to be hospitable. Its one way in which we love to love people. But the primary issue is that I am an extreme extrovert who values short shallow relationships with a lot of people all at once and my wife is a deep introvert who values actual meaningful relationships with a few people for an extended period of time. Left to my own devices, I would throw a massive party with 100 people barely fitting in our home with drinking, reveling, music, etc where I didn’t have to talk to any one person for too long about their new boring film project on the oppression of the indigenous population of Galamaharis in West Skeda… Zzzzzzz...

My wife on the other hand, would lean toward an intimate gathering of two or four friends on an occasional basis, but one where she could really dig in and ask them how they FELT about the new cell phone ring they’ve chosen.

 We finally struck upon a perfect compromise. The third Sunday of every month we host a happy hour for all sorts of friends and neighbors from 5-7. For her, its perfect because she can mingle but also hang with her closest friends who make it a point to be there every time. Since it is a monthly event and it has a limited time frame, it strikes the perfect balance of getting to connect with people deeply but not be overwhelmed with being “on”. For me, its perfect because I can invite new people every time and they mingle and take care of themselves for two hours. I can feed them good food and drinks for less than it would cost Rach and I to go get two cocktails a piece at the local watering hole. We have taken to calling the event “Thrunday”. (Yes, phonetically and etymologically it isn’t a perfect contraction for Third Sunday, but it rolls of the tongue and sounds vaguely medieval.

Anyways, we had a good bit of gin in the cabinet for yesterday’s Thrunday and I was itching to make these Samosas that I found online. (PS, excellent.  But put in half the peas called for and I cooked up some frozen diced potatoes instead of the mashed.)  So, an Indian Theme emerged. And I spent a little of Sunday afternoon coming up with a new cocktail, the Raj Collins. (I’m sure you can put two and two together.)

Here’s the recipe:

The Raj Collins**

Raj Collins
Super Fine Sugar
Garam Masala
Lemon wedge
1 oz fresh lemon juice (about ½ a good sized lemon)
1 Tbs Ginger Simple Syrup (Recipe Follows)
1 ½ oz Gin
Club Soda
On a plate, mix 1 part Garam Masala to 4 parts super fine sugar. (3/4 tsp Garam Masala to 1 Tbs Sugar). Run a lemon wedge around the edge of an Old Fashioned or Low Ball glass. Dip in sugar mix and swirl to coat. Add 1 oz lemon juice to the glass, 1 Tbs Ginger Simple Syrup, 1 ½ oz. of Gin. Handful of ice, top with club soda, and give ‘er a stir with a spoon.

Ginger Simple Syrup:
You could use powdered ginger in this recipe, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Its much better to make a quick ginger syrup with ¼ cup of sugar, 1/8 cup of water, and three 1” diameter - 1/8” thick slices of ginger. (I always buy bags of fresh ginger, peel it at all with a spoon edge and slice it into pieces of this size. Freeze it on a cookie sheet before sticking it in a ziplock and you’ve got fresh ginger for months.) Anywhoodle, put all that stuff in a little saucepan, bring to a boil while stirring, turn down to simmer for 5 minutes. Strain out the ginger and let cool.


** I should also note that we seem to have lost our camera. So for now, I’m stealing other people’s pictures from the web and photoshopping them. Don’t tell anybody. We can’t afford a new camera AND legal fees.

* I will Eat Your Babies, B*&^%!

Freakin' watch this and despair... (you only need the to get through the first minute til Martha starts clicking and salivating like Hannibal Lecter talking about Fava Beans and Chianti)



We haven't hit Halloween yet, so its a little early, but I plan on doing this with somebody's child for Thanksgiving this year. (Sus? Sarah? Either one of you want to volunteer your youngest?)

Hilarious Commentary Here:

*Title taken from an Episode of "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia".

Come Hither Salsa

In my bachelor days, I didn't have much going for me with the ladies. I mean, I was funny, of course, and remarkably good looking obviously, and there was my abundance of emotional, spiritual, and sexual maturity. But other than that, all I had was salsa...

Yes, I made a KICKASS salsa; Giant overflowing bowls of salsa that I would bring over to Rach's house on the ghetto-ish Girard Ave. and the girls would swoon.

"This is so *&^%ing good I want to quit my job teaching underprivileged children and sit around the apartment all day eating this with a spoon!", her roommate Becky would say.

"I don't care whether my sister and you are good for eachother, just marry her already so I can have more of this salsa!", her roommate/sister Kim would say.

"Mmm, mmm, mmm. Yo, white boys aint my thing, but you look sexy carrying that bowl of salsa", the old lady on the corner would say as I got off the bus.

"Hey there.", my then-girlfriend/future-wife Rachael would say. (She's very understated, but trust me, volumes were implied.)

Anyways, I'm confident that my salsa is the primary reason Rach stuck with me. And now that we're married, I don't need to cling so tightly to the secret, but can spread it around to those less fortunate.

The real secret is that there is no recipe. One can only taste your way through the salsa making experience allowing room for much adjustment as the individual ingredients vary through the season and from the source. It's a zen meditation thing, one best accomplished with a little "Morcheeba" playing in the background, especially "Big Calm" and "Fragments of Freedom".

But after repeated nudging, I went to Sue's Produce, sat down this weekend, and codified the recipe as best as I could.

Come Hither Salsa
3 15 oz. Cans Black Beans (Goya Brand Preferred)
6 Large Slightly Under-ripe Jersey Tomatoes, Diced
1 Large Yellow Onion, Diced
3 Jalapeños, Minced.
3/4 Cup Cilantro, Minced
2 1/2 TBS or 4 Cloves Garlic, Minced.

1/2 cup Lemon Juice (Fresh Preferred)
2 TBS Red Wine Vinegar
2 TBS Corn or Olive Oil
1 1/2 TBS Kosher or Sea Salt

Drain and rinse black beans with cold water in colander. In Large mixing bowl (3-5 quart), mash one half of the beans into a mushy pulp. Preferably, use your bare hands. Add remaining unmashed beans, diced tomatoes, diced onion, minced jalapeños, minced cilantro, and minced garlic. (I've added links above for the best means of cutting/dicing/mincing for the less experienced.) Combine Ingredients.

Now comes the Zen Part. Get your best trip-hop on. Add lemon, vinegar, oil, and salt as needed. I've listed approximate quantities above but you may want to start with half of those and build up to the quantities listed as you taste.

Disclaimers:
1. This salsa is always made in big batches so I cannot vouch for what will happen if you try to do a fraction of it.

2. Be very careful of making this salsa if you are not intending to find a spouse. Even if you plan to sit at home and watch the evening news alone while eating the salsa, unintended spousal side effects may occur.

3. Like I said, there is no recipe. Except for the one that my sister taught me from Martha Stewart that started this whole thing, but I think mine has evolved enough to rename and claim.

4. Do not add corn unless you have been explicitly instructed to by the intended object of your affection. Suprisingly, my experience has been that corn is very divisive and could potentially undo the entire salsa wooing process. Fortunatley for me, Rach is very forgiving.

Updates and Ice Cream Sodas

Buckle up...

We've narrowed our dog names down to two, neither of which are on the poll above, but we're not going to reveal the pick until a few days before the puppy is brought home so that the vetting process (get it? vetting?) can be complete and we don't accidentally pick a name that means "I hate people with special needs" in Swahili or something which would be highly unfortunate because we've spent a lot of time debating various names with family and friends which of course has lead to many a discussion of children's names which we're simultaneously not ready for and also have picked out much to the chagrin of people who kept trying to recommend names for our dog that we've already pre-reserved for our hypothetically dreaded children (and please don't get all huffy, a lot of married people fear children because kids are like a nylon leash which yes, comes in a multitude of exciting primary colors, but ultimately restricts your movement) WHICH brings us back to dogs and the naming conversation which reminds me that whenever we talked about a dog name starting with "J", I of course had to nix it because of my speech impediment which would invariably bring about my sister's response of "I wanted to name a daughter Hannah, but then I married a guy from Rochester, who pronounces it "Heeanah" so that was out the window and we named our daughter Blair" which frankly I thought was kind of awkward given that Blair was sitting right there and is certainly going to have an identity complex now, but as a result, I'm definitely imagining it'd be a good weekend to be a fly on the wall at their house because Hurricane "Heeana" is currently bearing down on the east coast, which if we weren't going away tonight and going to an awesome Ben Folds with Full Orchestra concert tomorrow (make sure to listen to the Hiroshima clip, you'll be singing "OH-OH-OH-OHHHH" for the rest of your life), would mean that we would sit around watching our last disc of Scrubs Season 3 and doing Dr. Cox impersonations (which is what this rambling run-on post is supposed to sound like, or at least should sound like in your head there, Katrina (see what I did there? since Cox calls JD by girls' names) while drinking Old-Fashioned Ice Cream Sodas, which surprisingly few people know about, but trust me, they're awesome.

Ma Barker's Ice Cream Sodas:

BIG glass
3 Tbs. Choc. Syrup
3 Tbs. 1/2 and 1/2
Vanilla Ice Cream
Seltzer Water

In the bottom of your BIG glass, mix together chocolate syrup, 1/2 and 1/2, and a splash of seltzer water, making sure to get all those chocolatey bits off the bottom. Add several scoops of ice cream until you're just 1/2" inch below the top of the glass. Fill with Seltzer water, giver her a good stir, top off with a hair more seltzer and maybe a drizzle of chocolate syrup on top.

Enjoy.

Paper Tiger

As previously mentioned, we're going to start tackling the Dining Room this winter/spring. In fact, we were planning on getting started this weekend in order to take advantage of my wife's availability: Classes are just starting up this week and she has MLKJDay off.**

But, we've decided to host one more event for which we'll need the Dining Room on Tuesday...
The GenXers in my extended family clan (and their children) have been getting together for a monthly dinner for the past year. My wife and I have put off hosting for some time, either because we were living downtown, living in someone else's house, or living in squalor.

So, before we do a major disassembly, we'll have an Asian Potluck for 8 adults, 4 kids, and 1 child-in-utero. Not sure what that will entail yet, but I'm desperately hoping there'll be seaweed, rice, and kimchi involved. (As the GenXers all hail from my mother's side of the family who were raised in Korea, we should be golden.)



That said, I'd like to get something started while we've got the time. So, this weekend, I'll do some shopping and organizing and researching. And maybe a little prepwork...

On the prepwork front, the only foreseeable thing I can do without creating hazards for the impending child/toddler/embryo arrival is scoring the walls to begin removing the painted wallpaper. Lots of web sites out there (and there and there and there) seem to have varying opinions on the best means and methods for painted wallpaper removal. We're going to see what we can do with a steamer, vinegar water, and scraper first. (Anyone out there with input, please feel free to add it in the comments section below...)

But one interesting discrepency between sources seems to be the use of "The Paper Tiger." Exciting name, huh? It makes me envision a scenario where my wife and I are working on the Dining Room and I say, "Love, Could you hand me the Paper Tiger?" while simultaneously making one of Ben Stiller's Blue Steel/Magnum/ Le Tigre faces from Zoolander and being really really ridiculously good looking:




















Of course, my wife responds appropriately by rolling her eyes and leaving to go hang out with normal people.

Anyways, the "Paper Tiger" is this circular spokey tool for scoring the painted wall paper so that a glue dissolving solution can work its way back behind the paper and cause it to separate from the wall. However, varying sources indicate that the results range from:
"significant damage to the plaster"
to
"ineffectual waste of time"
to
"created by God for the sole purpose of ending mankind's wallpaper scraping suffering".


Interestingly, the search "Paper Tiger" brought about a Wikipedia hit that summed up the situation quite nicely:

"Paper tiger is a literal English translation of the Chinese phrase zhǐ lǎohǔ (Chinese: 紙老虎), meaning something which seems as threatening as a tiger, but is really harmless."

The phrase is an ancient one in Chinese, but sources differ as to when it entered the English vocabulary. Although some sources may claim it dates back as far as 1850 [1], it seems the Chinese phrase was first translated when it was applied to describe the United States using propaganda tactics. In 1956, Mao Zedong said of the United States:

“

In appearance it is very powerful but in reality it is nothing to be afraid of; it is a paper tiger. Outwardly a tiger, it is made of paper, unable to withstand the wind and the rain. I believe the United States is nothing but a paper tiger.

”

In Mao Zedong's view, the term could be applied to all allegedly imperialist nations, particularly the United States and the Soviet Union (following the Sino-Soviet split): Mao argued that they appeared to be superficially powerful but would have a tendency to overextend themselves in the international arena, at which point pressure could be brought upon them by other states to cause their sudden collapse. Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev at some point may have remarked that although the "U.S. is a paper tiger, it has atomic teeth".

We're interested to hear your thoughts/experiences:

1. Is the Paper Tiger Tool a Paper Tiger (ineffective)?

2. Is our Asian Potluck for 13 a Paper Tiger (overblown)?

3. Is the War on Terror an example of American overextension abroad which makes America a Paper Tiger (less secure)?

4. Is Zoolander's "Le Tigre" pose actually a clue that the Male Modeling Farce Movie produced by VH1 is an epic statement about imperialism in which Mugatu represents cold war interests, Derek Zoolander represents citizen naiveté, and Hansel represents Mao Zedong calling out individuals as Paper Tigers (not so good looking)?

Wow. I just blew your mind.




**Footnote: To Hillary and Obama who are both loyal readers of "The-House-Rules", please put your "Who's More Racist/Sexist" debate revolving around your political attempts to align yourselves with African-American Voters aside. Instead, for the good of the American People, come up with an appropriate renaming of Martin Luther King Jr. Day. If its going to be a American National Holiday, it should at least coincide with the prevailing American culture of suburbananity, laziness, and abbreviations. "Martin Luther King Jr. Day" is too hard to type and "MLKJDay" is too hard to say. Whichever one of you wins the primary can submit your top three choices to "The-House-Rules" for consideration.

Weaver's WAY too much!

Let me start by saying that I'm a naturalist at heart. I love the environment. Its full of interesting sensory inputs, some nice, some ugly, but never boring. The biological aspect especially always piques my interest... going tide pooling, snorkeling, gardening, and hiking are fascinating and fun to me because there's no limit to the biodiversity you can experience. I even love virology because I think that those little guys are just intriguing.

I mean, if one of those parasites or viral swarms end up inside me, KILL EM ALL!, but from an abstract observer's perspective, they're way cool. I mean, really, that's part of being a naturalist: Killing and Death and Survival. If you believe in some concept of "Mother Nature", you're fooling yourself. Nature is not particularly mothering. Nature is a ignorant blunt brute of a dude. Kind of like Schwarzenegger. Let's call it "The TermiNature" from now on...

I mean, if you've heard about these things called hurricanes or if you've seen the awesome video of a baby water buffalo being mauled, (By a crocodile and a pack of lions SIMULTANEOUSLY- Awesome!), then there's no way you can come out on the other side thinking that Thoreau's vision of the woods was complete.

So, that's why I like to have a connection to my food. Its visceral and its real and it just makes it taste better. I come from a family of hunters and fishers and cultivators and gatherers. I, myself, find the hunting part boring which is why, as deer season approaches, I will probably be maintaining radio silence with my Dad and Brother(s) so I don't have to hear the endless strategy sessions. But I appreciate the concept. I would rather fish and gather and cultivate. To each his own. But everybody should have some connection to their food, rather than seeing your steak sterile and packaged in saran-wrap at the grocery store.



If that concept appeals, or especially if it turns you off, you should read this great book... The Scavenger's Guide to Haute Cuisine.



All this poses a small problem, living in the city. Our yard does not appear to be vegetable friendly without some serious tree trimming and I wouldn't trust anything I pulled out of Philadelphia's Schyukill River to be viable in a frying pan. So I joined Weaver's Way Co-Op.

Located in West Mt. Airy, a short drive from our house, Weaver's Way has a store that provides fresh locally grown produce, including stuff cultivated on the nearby farm. I'm going to work at the farm when I can so that the stuff I buy has a somewhat direct output from the work that I put in. The farm's blog/website is really fun with some great recipes and you should check it out. They're all about community and living locally. And we did some comparison shopping of the dairy and produce we got there. Almost everything was cheaper than at the local Acme down the street.





My issues come from all the other stuff Weaver's Way sells and the aura that I get when I go in there to shop. The Free-Range All-Organic Gluten-Free Soy-Based Sugar mocks me from the top shelf... (On Special this month for only $2.79!!!)

Everything about that product implies that food is not a part of nature.

It implies that food is about this crazy Health-Freak attitude trying to stave off death and never age and botox injections.

It implies that food is about Political Activism and fighting corporations and Republicans and big oil.

It implies that food is about Consumerism and wealth and endless choices and suburban shopping malls.

I live over in East Mt. Airy, the side where the demographic is older, less politically active, and poorer. And I wonder how many of my neighbors really have the time, inclination, or money to think about Free-Range All-Organic Gluten-Free Soy-Based Sugar.

I just want them (and me) to be able to eat a Real Tomato along side their box of Tuna Helper. But, if I, who have time, inclination, and money, am put off by all that the Sugar on the shelf implies, how much more are they likely to be put off?

I don't want my dinner ruined by all the meaning you're placing on my Tomato. Can't we just have a Tomato?

Disclaimer: It should be noted that The Speaker of the House, has friends and family who are Gluten Intolerant and Lactose Intolerant. In theory, my critique of the aforementioned sugar is not meant to be an entirely damning reflection on them.

(Although, one has to wonder whether the world didn't get along better when you just didn't eat foods that gave you diarrhea rather than trying to artificially fabricate some approximation thereof. I do believe in allergies. I just think that most of the world has spent the last ten centuries sucking it up and dealing with it.)

That said, the point is that the sugar makes the Co-op socially inaccessible to the folks who need good vegetables and dairy most. Plus, people who eat that shit by choice are dumb-asses.

Stink Bug Eradication Techniques

So last night, at a family event, my tiny little awesome cousin/nephew Ben discovered a Brown Marmorated Stink Bug (Halyomorpha halys) on the game he was playing with. He was not pleased. Neither is anyone else on the Eastern Seaboard...

Since being introduced from Asia almost 10 years ago, the slow moving Stink Bug population has exploded, especially this year when a mild winter prevented their yearly natural extermination. They meander their way into our homes, as many can attest. They lazily infested the air conditioning unit in the loft of my mother-in-law's home where my wife and I stayed while between houses this summer. They slowly crawl all over the exterior walls of my sister's house, twitching and feeling, twitching and feeling. Their dead accumulate in light fixtures, cereal bowls, and sock drawers.

Several papers have covered the infestation (here and here), and while various sites do insist that the bug is harmless to humans and has not even proven (yet) to be detrimental to crop growth, no one has suggested much of a means to get rid of these nuisance critters.

That's where I (and you) come in. After previous experimentation on this topic, I crushed the offending stink bug between my fingers last night to enlighten my family to the fact that the Brown Marmolated Stink Bug, in fact, doesn't really stink. It smells like Cilantro. After a rousing game of "Smell My Finger", I had about half of the audience convinced. To the other half, I submit the following evidence. A whopping 6% of registered users on Ihatecilantro.com cite Stink Bugs as the flavor/smell that most closely resembles Cilantro.

Okay, okay, not very overwhelming. But if you look at the other articles linked throughout this posting, you'll see that I'm not alone. Lots of folks link the smell of stinkbugs and cilantro... not just the cilantro haters. (You've got to love devotion to a cause like that... Ihatecilantro.com? Come ON!)

The biggest problem with this invasive species is a lack of natural predators. Many birds, amphibians, etc either don't like the cilantro-esqe taste, or haven't discovered that these stink bugs are edible yet.

Now whether you believe in Global Warming or not, one has to admit that a natural predator would be a preferable method of population control to saturating our every living surface, interior and exterior, with your fave Insecticide. (What's yours? Mine is YardGuard, because it can be easily said with a Pirate inflection: "Avast, gimme the Yaaaarrd-Guaaaarrd, ye landlubbing bunghole!")

So, in the interest of Environmental Activism, why not introduce ourselves as natural predators for the Brown Stink Bug? Only 2000 or so fanatics really don't like Cilantro, so I think the rest of us can make a big dent in the population. Various regions of Mexico already eat other species of Stink Bugs Tacos. (Seriously.) And I found this delightful recipe for Stink Bug Pate online.

And so, dear readers, I urge you to experiment and then submit your favorite Stink Bug Recipes. Yes, especially you, Carolyn. Not only because this post is in your honor, (for being the only unwilling participant in the "Smell My Finger" game.) But because you're the only member of the family who has a formal culinary education. If any body can swallow their cultural stereotypes and down experimental Stink Bug recipe after experimental Stink Bug recipe, its you...

Cheers!

Schmancy Dinner

Previously on the-house-rules, we had a LOT of people to help us move in... It was great, because several of the ladies* unpacked most of our kitchen into the cabinets and pantry. Plates here, cups there, pot holders under there, etc. And the best part about it is that it was all WRONG.

Now, this is no judgment on the aforementioned ladies*. They placed things according to their own logic structure and our snippets of input. And it most likely made a lot of sense for their collective kitchen consciousness. But each person has their own way of organizing things and this wasn't ours.

But having things put in the "wrong" way makes it easier to identify what the "right" way is. We spent evenings of this past week, after work, organizing the kitchen from one end of the galley to another. Somewhat of a mise-en-place as Escoffier would say. (I don't really know what that means, but I know its related to food prep and it sounds schmancy right?)

We start with cutlery/prep/wash at one end, move to cook/serve, and to wait/bar station progressively down one side of the kitchen. On the other side there's pantry/fridge/supplies and a special confection/pastry corner for my wife the baker. (I only do savory/stove top for the most part.)

Anways, we got this done just in time for our first dinner party with our friend Meredith on Friday night. Mostly, the dinner was pretty tame. Pasta with a bottle of sauce plus my spinach mushroom additions. But I'm very proud of my salad: Frisee greens with Walnuts, Apples, and Parmesan cheese tossed in a lemon mustard dressing. I owned that mother.

Also, we had a bottle of Merlot from Rex Goliath 40 lb Rooster, one of our favorite wines, recommended to us by my brother and his wife. They live in Wisconsin, so typically one would question their Midwestern taste, but it was a recent (and sad) move from the east coast, so you can trust them... Implicitly. Unless we're talking about gun control, in which case don't put stock in anything they say. (Get it! Stock?!?)




*Footnote: Ladies is not a pejorative term. The setting up of the kitchen simply happened to be done by a group of women. Don't accuse me of sexism. I mean, if a dude who gets all hot and bothered by a frisee salad can't simply state the facts without his readers getting all feminist activist on his ass, what hope does the world have?