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Posts Tagged ‘great appetizer recipes’

final

It’s been a month since I sat down to write a story. Where does the time disappear to these days? I feel like I’m chasing my life as it speeds by me like an express train and I’m not a scheduled stop along the line.

Sensing I was itching to get out of the house last night, Rick suggested a date night. Movie perhaps and a bite to eat afterwards? As going to the Caribbean or boarding a ship for a trip around the world weren’t listed as options, this sounded good to me. Scanning the paper he reminded me it was his turn to pick a movie. The last movie we saw was Beauty and the Beast (my pick obviously). Now, it was my turn to defer to his tastes which lean in a completely different direction. Damn his excellent memory. Giving me a choice between the newest Pirates of the Caribbean or the most recent Alien sequel, I chose the latter. As much as I enjoy a couple of hours of large screen Johnny Depp, I haven’t seen a good alien up close and personal since Arrival. In hindsight should have gone for Pirates I believe. Hear it’s great.

I loved the original Alien movie. Sigourney Weaver facing down a truly fierce and formidable alien. Jam packed with lots of action, a lot of Hollywood magic, plus a great script. What’s not to love? This new one was a bit of a different creature, if you will. There was definitely action but I didn’t find much of a story line. If you’re a fan of gory evisceration scenes, however, this is the film for you. According to Rick I spent two-thirds of the movie with my hoodie pulled over my head (probably a slight exaggeration). The scenes I did see were enough to haunt my dreams for a long while. Ewwww.

Getting out of the movie past our usual feeding time, we followed the herd to the local Cattleman’s Steakhouse. Rick was on a quest for liver and onions one of their menu items, yet another taste belonging only to him. Amazingly for two individuals who are soooooo vastly different we manage to come together beautifully.

The restaurant was humming for a weeknight. The slogan on the server’s aprons read “the restaurant where the big boys go to eat” or something of that nature. They offer generous portions which even for big boys most likely need to be accompanied by a defibrillator if you order dessert. I chose the smallest of their burgers with a side of potato salad. Settling into a conversation about the movie, Rick was a thumbs up while my thumb was pointed toward the floor.

Waiting for our entrees to arrive a lady, perhaps in her early seventies, eating alone at the table behind us got up to use the facilities. Passing our table she stopped. After an uncomfortable pause she commented “this is being taken off tomorrow”. Having not one single idea what the woman was talking about but not wanting to be rude, I replied, “I’m so glad”. As soon as the words left my lips I was hoping she wasn’t discussing an unsightly wart or skin lesion. What? I don’t know. Rick was looking at me as though I’d just taken my shirt off and was working on the hooks on my bra.

As the woman continued I noticed a huge boot on her right leg which I came to understand was what she was referring to. Whew. The story was she had visited a doctor in our area with a sore foot who diagnosed a broken bone. Going to another source for a second opinion it was determined it was not, in fact, broken and the boot was to be removed. Probably more information that I needed but she was friendly and perhaps a bit lonely so I listened attentively nodding my head at the appropriate junctions.

Heading on to her destination she stopped once again on her way back to tell me about the YMCA’s classes in our area. Why I have no clue. Perhaps when she saw Rick’s plate arrive with an entire loaf of white bread perched on one side of a pile of liver and French fries she thought the information might be beneficial. The odd thing, if you wonder why I’m leading you down this convoluted path, is the day before I had been on line searching for a Y in our area. Missing the pool we left behind I thought I might find one at a Y and I want to try my hand (and the rest of my body if they insist) at yoga or Zumba. The closest Y I could locate was at least forty minutes away so to find out there was one closer was the information I needed. Weird.

For me this puts a lot of truth in the belief people weave in and out of our lives for a reason. Some come to remain at your side, others stay for a while then move on, and some only visit for a moment or two to provide us with something we might use on our journey. Happens to me so often I’ve dismissed the thought this is mere coincidence. Sometimes I will wish I had a particular item or that a certain person would call and somehow what I needed comes to me or the phone begins to ring with that person on the other end.

In the end the boot lady was lovely. We spent a short time sharing the events of our day and information I needed came my way. On another note both the burger and the potato salad were noteworthy. Thank you to the universe on both counts.

These little nests are so pretty on the table and filled with whatever you might like. I served them with marscapone and strawberries last weekend to rave reviews. Got the idea from a recipe in Cuisine at Home.

Tomato Cheese Tarts

2 sheets frozen puff pastry, thawed
1 egg yolk
1 Tbsp. water
8 oz. Rondelle garlic and herb cheese
2 Tbsp. milk
16 cherry tomatoes (mixed colors are most appealing visually), halved
2 Tbsp. minced basil
Salt and pepper
Basil leaves to garnish

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Remove pastry from refrigerator and allow to sit at room temperature for 30 mins.

Cut one sheet of pasty into four equal quarters. Cover cookie sheet with parchment paper and arrange quarters on top.

Cut second sheet of pastry into 8 3/4″ strips. (You will have pastry left over.) Cut the strips in half.

Place two strips on two sides of each pastry square. Then place two strips on the uncovered sides of each square overlapping the ends.

2

Whisk together egg yolk and water. Brush lightly over the borders and the ends of the squares. Bake for 25 mins. or until golden brown.

Remove from oven and cool for 5 mins. Using a fork gently pull top of center piece of pasrty out of each square and discard.

Mix together cheese and milk. Divide equally among the squares spreading around the bottom. Top with sliced tomatoes and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Divide basil among the four and return to oven for 5 mins. Garnish with whole basil leaves.

Makes 4

 

 

 

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1Heinz catsup is asking people interested to sign a petition to have the Monday following the Super Bowl declared a national holiday. Certainly football is a sport revered by many Americans. Personally, I feel it doesn’t carry the weight of say a President’s Day or Veteran’s Day. However, several men I have dated along the way might strongly disagree with this statement. For some fans Super Bowl ranks among the great achievements in history such as inventing the wheel and the ancient brewer who thought to mix grains with hops to get beer. One argument for a Super Bowl Monday would be many of those rooting their teams on to victory will most likely be hung over and hoarse the day following. Having spent a day or two in the office in my earlier years jockeying position between my desk and the toilet I know I would probably have served my employer far better had I remained at home in bed with an ice pack and a bottle of aspirin.

Our team was notably absent in both the playoff standouts as well as the big game. Not that they made a good showing at any point. Generally, they blew the season tripping over their embarrassed protruding lower lip showing up second in the league. Second from  the bottom that would be, not the top. Rick and I faithfully tuned in the 49er’s all season in spite of the fact they haven’t done much to get us out of our chairs.  Don’t misunderstand me. No stones are being cast here. Athletic talent isn’t in my genes. The point here might be, however, no one is paying me millions of dollars to carry a football over the goal line.

High school P.E. was a misery for me. Track and field in particular. Most events I managed without the involvement of any emergency medical personnel, but tumbling, baseball and track and field got the best of me. The worst grade came for, of all things, throwing a softball. Why this was part of track and field still has me scratching my head, but nonetheless. With half my class watching after a dramatic windup the ball landed  approximately two inches beyond the toe of my tennis shoes. A nearsighted gibbon could have done better. This was to be a feat I continued to live down until the day I received my diploma. I set a new record that day for shortest distance a ball had been thrown since the athletic department purchased its first piece of chalk. Swell.

Water sports were mostly where I shined. Also, to be immodest, I was an excellent tennis in player my younger years. For the most part though, even with a group populated by friends, my name was rarely the first one yelled out when picking teams. Hold your pity please. I may not be a talented athlete but I like to think as the years progressed I have developed  other talents equally as noteworthy, thank you very much. Sorry.

Constantly I remain amazed at the salaries these highly gifted athletes command. Someone explained this huge amount of money is needed to stretch over the lean years after the athlete’s bodies no longer can produce or should they sustain an injury. I’ve managed to stretch far less over my lean years and still had food in the cupboard. I rather doubt many of the retired athletes with these lucrative contracts are sweating their next burger, but possibly I am wrong. According to Mr. Rick some have lost their fortunes due to poor management or excessive spending habits. In general, however, most probably move seamlessly into retirement picking up a gig here and there touting insurance or the blessings of aluminum siding.

Most of the pictures of me taken between ninth and twelfth grade reflect a smiling young face with either a black eye, skinned knee or a limb carefully encased in casting material. Had social services been more observant my parents might have had some ‘splaining to do. Let me be clear, my parents never abused me. Rather, when coordination was handed out I must have been out getting a bag of Cheetos from the vending machine. If there was an elephant in the room, I would manage to trip over it or spill coffee on it. My mother actually used modeling clay to glue her valuables to tables and armoires lest Hurricane Susie accidentally sent them crashing to the floor with an errant flick of a sleeve or a poorly placed wave of a hand. Kindly, she said this was in the case of an earthquake, but I knew  with my casualty count rivaling that of WWII, the body count would be diminished somewhat by her efforts.

So, I have my wings in the wings (if you will) awaiting their entrance stage right this afternoon accompanied by ranch dressing. Ripe avocados in the basket to be gloriously paired with lemon juice, onions, and seasonings for my delicious guacamole, and my system is preparing for the unhealthy onrush coming down the chute as the game commences.

I look forward to spending the day manning my armchair and enjoying the best of the best go head to head for the ultimate prize. Why is it I wonder some individuals are culled from the herd for greatness while the rest of us muck around in relative obscurity? Guess that’s another question to be left unanswered. For me, I’m happy to be who I am with all my blemishes and scars and that will do nicely for today.

These delightful little bites of flavor will happily blend in with whatever else you’re serving for your Super Bowl party.

Lamb Koftas

1 lb. lamb mince
1 onion, chopped fine
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp. tomato paste
1 tsp. ground cumin
1/2 tsp. crushed mint leaves
1 tsp. ground coriander
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/8-1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper (desired heat)

Oil for frying

Mix all ingredients with hands in large bowl until well blended. Form into small balls.

Heat oil over medium heat in large saucepan. Brown in two batches, turning often to keep from burning. Continue to cook until browned on all sides and cooked through.

Makes 24

Cucumber Yogurt Dip

1/2 English cucumber, peeled and chopped fine
1 clove garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. chopped fresh mint
1/2 cup plain yogurt

Mix together and place in refrigerator for 1 hr.

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