Saturday, May 13, 2006

Not your father's bridge mix, or, how's that diet coming, anyway? Trader Joe's, are you listening?  Because like Kathy Bates to James Caan, I am your biggest fan. But I won't cut off the leg that feeds me.  (If you don't get that reference, you are too young or too fancy to watch a Stephen King movie.  Go on, off to IMDB with you.) Now, on to more important things.  Do you remember bridge mix?  It seems like the kind of thing that disappeared in a 1977, though according to the internet god Google, it's still around.  It was the kind of thing I always longed for in the Brach display in the candy aisle at Kroger, and my mother never bought, because she read labels.  Like breakfast cereal.  And Tang.  But I digress. A mix of sweet and salty, basically, something yummy and addictive to munch while playing cards and genteely getting hammered.  Sounds good, right?  Here's my version, all TJ, of course, because I'm a freak. Mix: TJ Thai Peanuts (do yourself a favor, and pick out all the chilis before you mix this up.) TJ Wasabi Peas TJ dark chocolate chips TJ dried cranberries with orange flavor Proportions are up to you.  I'd probably use two parts each salty to 1/2 or 1 part of each sweet. Thank me when you taste this with a drink, and curse me when the drinks start making you lose at cards. Poker, not bridge, probably. 2:17:14 PM     comment [] trackback []

	Thursday, May 11, 2006

You need to be aware of this I don't think this is new news, for anyone who's been paying close attention to this White House, but apparently the mainstream press is shocked --SHOCKED, I tell you-- to learn that Bush has willy-nilly been deciding which of the recently passed laws he will obey.  Read this comprehensive article from the Boston Globe to learn more.  It's important, if you want to know just how diseased the executive branch has become. 1:05:13 PM     comment [] trackback []

	Monday, May 8, 2006

So much to say, so little time At least for now, so little time.  Suffice it to say that I have just returned from a glorious--really, glorious--weekend in Big Sur with my family.  If you've never been there, you should make it a priority to go, at least once in your life.  It is a place where even an atheist can feel the presence of the divine, incarnated in redwoods, rocky cliffs and crashing seas.  If you don't believe me, read Mayer Rus' "Testy Tastemaker" column in this month's House and Garden. (In theory, the column is online, but the link is bad.  I'll keep trying to provide a link, but you could also read it for free at the newsstand--it's always the last page of the magazine.)  Mayer went to college with me, and though we weren't really friends, our circles sometimes intersected.  He's a brilliant and funny writer on design in all forms, and he, too, loves Big Sur.  Check it out.  I'll post some pictures of my gorgeous children exulting about waterfalls and rocky beaches in the next couple of days. Also, I have a new profile in the Santa Barbara Independent.  Let me know what you think.  It's about a woman who's developed a yoga program for develomentally disabled adults.  I'm thrilled to have it published, and irritated that the copy editor changed my correct usage:  "Down syndrome" to incorrect usage "Down's syndrome." Sigh.  I went to the trouble to make sure my version was correct, because I too get confused.  Oh well. More later. I am off to my manic Monday of kids, karate, grocery shopping and reentry into my life.  10:13:08 AM     comment [] trackback []

	Tuesday, May 2, 2006

Stephen Colbert is my hero Finally someone has spoken truth not just to power, but also to the propagandists--I mean, Washington journalists--who participate in the propping and propagating of the Bush fantasies and lies.  Stephen Colbert gave a brilliant indictment of Bush and the journalists who participate in his destructive policies at the White House Correspondents' Dinner.  Visit here and here to learn more, and be sure to watch the video. 1:17:15 PM     comment [] trackback []

	Sunday, April 30, 2006

My own personal preapocalyptic vision Like it's not bad enough that Fox has plastered the town with all those creepy "6+6+06" signs for the remake of "The Omen", now I'm having my own version of the four horsemen.  In the past, every time my life was about to take some important turn (moving in with the H, marrying the H stand out; you'll see why in a moment) ex-boyfriends from around the globe would resurface.  Random phone calls, for no particular reason, just to check in.  I wish I could say that I am one of those women (people) who maintains friendships with her exes.  I'm not.  There's usually a reason they're ex.  And as much I believe in taking the high road and every other cliche that really just means smug superiority, when it comes to exes, boyfriend or lesser involvements, mostly I don't. And mostly when I get in touch with them (mostly, not always) it's to work out some misplaced nostalgic romantic longing, or, more frequently, to prove (to them, or, more likely, to me) how great my life is now.  It is pathetic and sad, to quote the inimitable Judd Nelson (in one of the greatest movies ever made, "The Breakfast Club") that I have done this. But I have, though really, almost never any more.  The last time I saw an old boyfriend was at an impossibly sad funeral, and he wasn't even a boyfriend, just a serial date fling from graduate school, and though it was utterly inappropriate given the horrible circumstances, I did take pleasure in the fact that he was pudgy, single and had just moved to Texas (from San Francisco--how far can you fall, really?) and I was pregnant with the Babe and just starting to show and was glowy and wearing really high heels.  So take that. In any case, as you may have gleaned from some recent prior posts, the world is feeling pretty hairy to me right now. It does seem that our darling president is bent on speeding things along, End of Time-wise, and so, when two significant exes called this week, it gave me the heebie jeebies. The first I've been playing phone tag with. We'll see if we ever speak. He was my high-school-into-college boyfriend, an amateur drug dealer, would-be Dead Head, very smart, very screwed up guy who cheated on me repeatedly while I pretty much begged for more.  He's the boyfriend who has made my mother grateful for every other man I've been involved with.  He's now married, with three kids, and some kind of investment banker.  Why do the crazy creative one always go into finance? Methinks the money.  The second--also a banker-- placed a random call knowing full well that he'd have no time to see me while he was in town. Ah.  He was a doozy--another serial date fling, with whom I had the good sense (for once in my pathetic dating life) not to sleep.  I remember so clearly lying on his couch after seeing Mike Leigh's film "Naked" (emphatically NOT a date movie) and telling him I was going home, because he was (and oh, he was) "way too ambivalent about me."  He at least had the decency not to attempt to argue with me.  It couldn't have been truer.  But that night, as I was happily, happily tucked into my own bed, the Northridge earthquake hit: the house I shared with my two roommates felt as though it was picked up and chucked back down again by an angry, drunk giant.  I was so glad to be alone, with them, instead of alone with him. Since I think my marriage is actually pretty stable these days, I'm waiting to see what ill wind these phone calls portend.  And in response to them, I sent an email off to the only ex I actually wish I were still friends with; he's not replied.  Maybe he has more sense than I do... 8:46:03 PM     comment [] trackback []

	Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Paige & Joe's Enchiladas Suizas Really, the fine folks at Trader Joe's should hire me to develop recipes for them. I am three for three in the last three weeks, as I try my best to not order Thai or Chinese at the last minute because I didn't get my act together to plan a meal for us. This is what I made tonight, using all Trader Joe's ingredients. Enchiladas Suizas 1 T extra virgin olive oil 1/2 yellow onion, finely chopped 1 teaspoon prepared chopped garlic (from the jar) Salt Pepper 1 package TJ's homemade corn tortillas 1 jar TJ's salsa verde (the small jar, not the big one, though you could use more if you wanted them saucier) Meat from one roast chicken (I used the extra chicken from last night's dinner, but you could buy one of their already-roasted ones if you don't want to do it yourself), removed from bones, and shredded into bite size pieces 1/2 cup shredded organic white cheddar cheese 1/2 cup creme fraiche Preheat oven to 350. Heat water in a small covered pan (like a casserole or dutch oven) fitted with a steamer. While the water comes to a simmer, heat the olive oil in a large saucepan. Add the onion and garlic and saute a few minutes until the onion gets tender. Add a pinch or two of salt and freshly ground pepper. Increase the heat a bit, just for a moment to get the pan nice and hot, but not long enough to burn the onion, and then add the salsa. It should sizzle and pop when it hits the hot pan. Cook together with the onion and garlic for a few minutes, reducing the heat to medium. Remove half the salsa mixture to a bowl, and stir the chicken into the remaining salsa in the pan. Cook about five more minutes, and remove from heat. Put the tortillas in the steamer and warm them, covered, over the simmering water,until they've softened up, about five minutes. Remove from the pan (so they don't get too soggy.) One at a time, working diligently, not to say fast, take a tortilla (it works well to lay it on a dinner plate), fill the middle with a strip of the chicken mixture (about a third of a cup) and roll up. Place into a glass or ceramic baking dish or pie plate. (9 x 13 inches will be bigger than you need, but 9x9 will be a little tight to hold them all. Something in between would be perfect, though I have yet to find it!) It's ok if they're a little sloppy and don't hold together perfectly. Just push them into place as you lay them into the pan. When they're all in the pan, top with the remaining salsa mixture, then sprinkle with the grated cheese and finally, drizzle with the creme fraiche. Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until heated through. Serve with rice, guacamole, black beans, salad, whatever strikes your fancy.  Makes ten or so enchiladas, depending upon how full you fill them and how many tortillas are in your package and survive the steaming without falling apart.  Certainly enough food for two adults and two small, finicky children. 8:39:48 PM     comment [] trackback []

	Thursday, April 20, 2006

Prozac Nation, Indeed My fringe-y friend Max drew my attention to a recently released report that basically says that the psychiatric experts busy defining psychopathologies are mostly on the Big Pharma dole.  Is this really so surprising, given the influence that Big Agriculture and fast food companies have over what kids eat for lunch at school?  (When you visit this link, because I know you will, make sure to click on the site's link to Christopher Kimball's editorial in the Boston Globe.  It's absolutely worth reading.) Also worth reading is one of the most wonderful books I have ever, ever encountered about the craft and the art of writing.  Are you tantalized? You should be.  Stay tuned... 11:39:04 PM     comment [] trackback []