This Ain’t No Bull

Devoted Spouse and I have been looking for a quick getaway – just a couple of days of rest, relaxation and maybe looking at some local sights within a few hours of home.  Since my disastrous driving (1,000 road  miles) trip recently, I don’t want to be in a car for more than 3 or 4 hours so that severely limits where we can go.  Plus I’m hampered by a physical therapy schedule and, of course, school starts on the 24th of August.  So if we’re to get out of Dodge for a day or three, we need to find something somewhat local.

On our coffee table in the family room sits a small book entitled, “Ohio Road Trips by Neil Zurcher” and it documents day trips and some a bit longer all over the state of Ohio and tells you the hot spots and fun things to do.  There are parks, museums, animal features, strange and odd things such as haunted places, and, naturally, tons of historical goodies.

I started perusing the book and found quite a few places north of us in Amish country that we could easily travel to and back with no problems, providing we could find a place to stay this last minute – Amish country is so full of tourists at this time of year this may turn into simply a day trip.

What truly caught my eye was the number of Ohio festivals mainly during the spring, summer and fall of the year.  One in particular jumped off the page — it takes place in a town in northwest Ohio called Tiro.  It’s named The Tiro Testicle Festival.  Yes, I said the Tiro Testical Festival.

Apparently this is not a large town – just a wide spot on the road with a few businesses but every April thousands of folks come here to join in this festival celebrating bull’s testicles.  Yes, that part of a bull some may know as “mountain oysters” or “prairie oysters” and are touted as a yummy delicacy.  The book tells the story that the owner of the local tavern was given a “box of the delicacies” back in the 1990s.  He fried them up and served them to his customers (I certainly hope he gave them fair warning of what they were about to consume.)  It seemed to be a rousing success and has now turned into an annual event.  Every April almost a half-ton of bull gonads are now cooked and served to the crowds.  This festival doesn’t have a parade (hell, the poor bulls would just limp anyway), nor do they crown a queen (who wants to put on their resume someday the fact they held the Testicle Queen title in 2005?).  So, there isn’t much to do at this festival.  To quote from the book, “We drink beer and eat testicles.”  That’s it.

I have nothing further to add.  I think the above pretty much speaks for itself.  All I can think is darnitall, it’s not April.

Shhhhh! Don’t Tell Devoted Spouse!

It”s official – my arm and hand are strong enough for me to chop vegetables.  That means I can make dinner again.  It’s been such a long time since I did any cooking  and I will continue to ask for some help from Devoted Spouse now and again.  I still can’t lift anything heavy like the CrockPot or a frying pan – but by George I can chop the daylights outta onions again!

Of course the onions didn’t stay on the chopping board.  That would have been too easy.  My knife skills are just a tad rusty and we giggled as many of the onions ended up on the floor fleeing for their little lives.  Run, babies, run!

I managed to de-skin the chicken thighs – but Devoted Spouse had to cut up the chicken for me – he was a little worried that the thickness of the chicken and the weakness of my hand could lead to a potential loss of one or three of my fingers.  He’s so thoughtful.

I was proud of the fact I was able to wield the scissors and open up the bag of frozen veggies.  But then like the dork I am, I dumped a good part of them onto the stove, not into the CrockPot — well, I was close.  I also added garlic, and thank you to whoever came up with the idea of putting chopped garlic in little jars – I couldn’t have whacked a garlic clove with the back of a knife and my fist if my life depended on it.  But I can scoop out garlic from a jar and I did a nifty job of it, too.  Nary a garlic piece strayed.

A few spices, salt and pepper, some chicken stock, a can of diced tomatoes, a dash of chicken gravy for thickening, and voila!

Barefoot Contessa, eat your heart out!

Sometimes Life Hands You Pot Pies

Props to Devoted Spouse for all the wonderful care he has provided over these last 7 weeks or so – this man has cooked, cleaned, done laundry, listened to me b*tch, watched only the tv shows I wanted to watch because I could only get comfortable in the recliner in the family room, driven me to doctors’ offices, physical therapy appointments, job interviews, the library, Target for more drugs, and the list goes on and on.

Now, some of you know that it’s been something of a comedy of errors around here — about the time my shoulder went south, the oven died a horrible death.  That didn’t bother me too much because with a bum shoulder, who can even pick up a dish to get it in the oven?  Not me.  But, I had great hopes of teaching Devoted Spouse to make yummy baked goods — homemade mac and cheese, chicken casseroles, baked rosemary chicken, you know — all the wonderful things that require an oven.

What we decided on was pot pies.  Pot pies can go in the microwave.  They’re fast, easy, tasty, and there is virtually no clean up.  I have turned into a pot pie monster.  The problem is I discovered that the pot pies I really like (Marie Callender) have about a thousand calories and as many carbs and are off the charts in sodium content.  Dangit all.  Plus they’re expensive.

So I thought back to my earlier, single, poor days and remembered fondly Swanson’s and Banquet Pot Pies.  Off to Kroger went Devoted Spouse and he came home loaded down with these 69 cent pot pies.  The price alone should have been a red flag, but I’m a bit slow these days.

Can you guess how many peas are in a Swanson’s pot pie?  Two.  Really.  I counted.  Then I went back and re-checked my math since these days on the Valium I can easily make math mistakes.  I was right.  Two peas.  Then I found 4 pieces of carrot, about 5 potatoes, and teeny little chunks of pressed chicken – at least I’m hoping it’s chicken.  Gravy that doesn’t taste like gravy and a ton of crust.  So, I’m going to keep eating them until the freezer is empty and then I’m going to bite the bullet and spend the money on a new oven and THEN here is the recipe from the Barefoot Contessa Ina Garten that I plan on teaching Devoted Spouse how to make:

Ina Garten’s Chicken Pot Pies

Ingredients

nocoupons

• 3 whole (6 split) chicken breasts, bone-in, skin-on
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 5 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
• 2 chicken bouillon cubes
• 12 tablespoons (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter
• 2 cups yellow onions, chopped (2 onions)
• 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 2 cups medium-diced carrots, blanched for 2 minutes
• 1 (10-ounce) package frozen peas (2 cups)
• 1 1/2 cups frozen small whole onions
• 1/2 cup minced fresh parsley leaves

For the pastry:

nocoupons

• 3 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1/2 cup vegetable shortening
• 1/4 pound cold unsalted butter, diced
• 1/2 to 2/3 cup ice water
• 1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water, for egg wash
• Flaked sea salt and cracked black pepper

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Place the chicken breasts on a baking sheet and rub them with olive oil. Sprinkle generously with salt and pepper. Roast for 35 to 40 minutes, or until cooked through. Set aside until cool enough to handle, then remove the meat from the bones and discard the skin. Cut the chicken into large dice. You will have 4 to 6 cups of cubed chicken.

In a small saucepan, heat the chicken stock and dissolve the bouillon cubes in the stock. In a large pot or Dutch oven, melt the butter and saute the onions over medium-low heat for 10 to 15 minutes, until translucent. Add the flour and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, for 2 minutes. Add the hot chicken stock to the sauce. Simmer over low heat for 1 more minute, stirring, until thick. Add 2 teaspoons salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and heavy cream. Add the cubed chicken, carrots, peas, onions and parsley. Mix well.

For the pastry, mix the flour, salt, and baking powder in the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Add the shortening and butter and mix quickly with your fingers until each piece is coated with flour. Pulse 10 times, or until the fat is the size of peas. With the motor running, add the ice water; process only enough to moisten the dough and have it just come together. Dump the dough out onto a floured board and knead quickly into a ball. Wrap the dough in plastic and allow it to rest in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Divide the filling equally among 4 ovenproof bowls. Divide the dough into quarters and roll each piece into an 8-inch circle. Brush the outside edges of each bowl with the egg wash, then place the dough on top. Trim the circle to 1/2-inch larger than the top of the bowl. Crimp the dough to fold over the side, pressing it to make it stick. Brush the dough with egg wash and make 3 slits in the top. Sprinkle with sea salt and cracked pepper. Place on a baking sheet and bake for 1 hour, or until the top is golden brown and the filling is bubbling hot .  Yield 4 individual pot pies.

Yes, this is what chicken pot pie should be:  I can’t wait!

But Wait — There’s More

Since I’ve been somewhat housebound these past 7 weeks, much of the shopping has been left to Devoted Spouse.  Now don’t get the wrong idea here…Devoted Spouse is a very good shopper.  He prepares a list and usually buys just what is on the list,  not being one to give in to those artfully arranged goodie sections at the end of the aisles.  I, on the other hand, relish the odd treasure found while perusing the more mundane items needed.

It dawned on me the other day that the one member of the household who hasn’t had much brought home in the way of treasure lately is EmmaLou, the Golden Destroyer.  In fact, her toy box is almost bare.  She has a few craggy sterilized bones (the kind you stuff with peanut butter), one of those stringy dental floss-type pull toys, and two really dead tennis balls (they’ve been left outside in the cold and so now instead of bouncing they just thud to the floor).  Poor puppy girl.

Yesterday, Devoted Spouse ran errands and he brought home for EmmaLou two brand new Nylabones.  She loves Nylabones — she can chew on them for months on end, get the wonderful flavors (these are chicken) but the bone is so sturdy that she doesn’t destroy it, nor does she swallow any of it, because these things are virtually indestructible they don’t break apart.And that’s when it hit me.  Here is the answer to the dieting discussions –  we don’t need to lose weight — we don’t need to gain height.  We need our own Nylabones but flavored like Chocolate Chip Cookies,  or Frozen Margaritas.  And, the pseudo-food engineers would have to make these Nylabones resemble food, too, to make it more believable.  Imagine yourself in the evening…you’ve already eaten dinner…but there’s that nagging feeling that you just want a little something to snack on while you watch another painful episode of American Idol.  Have a Nylacookie.  All the satisfaction and none of the calories.

I think I’m on to something here.

More Thanksgiving Stuff(ing)

Okay, I’ve had comments on the mincemeat/pumpkin issue. The answer to the question is YES, mincemeat has real meat in it.   According to Dictionary.com:

Mincemeat Definition:
1. a mixture composed of minced apples, suet, and sometimes meat, together with raisins, currants, candied citron, etc., for filling a pie.
2. A mixture, as of finely chopped apples, raisins, spices, meat, and rum or brandy, used especially as a pie filling.

Blechhh. To my palate, it’s nasty.  I understand if some of you enjoy it.  Heck I like syrup on my chipped beef so there’s just no account for taste.  For anyone who so desires, here is a recipe for the filling for a mincemeat pie courtesy of Cooks.com. Enjoy (if you dare).

HOMEMADE MINCEMEAT PIE

1 lb. beef stew meat
4 lb. apples
4 oz. suet
15 oz. pkg. raisins
2 1/2 c. sugar
2 1/2 c. water
2 c. dried currants
1/2 c. chopped, mixed candied fruit and peels
1 c. orange juice
1 tsp. grated lemon peel
1/4 c. lemon juice
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp. ground mace
Pastry for 2 crust 9-inch pie
Cover beef with water. Simmer, covered, until tender about 2 hours. Drain, cool. Peel, core and cut up apples. Put beef, apples and suet through coarse blade of food grinder. In kettle, combine all ingredients EXCEPT pastry. Cover; simmer 1 hour. Stir often. Line 9 inch pie plate with pastry, and fill with 3 cups mincemeat. Put top crust on; seal edges and cut slits. Bake at 400 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes. Freeze remaining mincemeat in 3-cup portions. Makes 12 cups.