shrimp omelet



What an amazing combination of herbs this turned out to be. I have never seen this suggested on any cooking show yet together they're extraordinary. I enjoyed this tremendously and my three-egg omelet was so easy to eat it disappeared before I was ready for to be gone. I wanted more immediately. But after the unhappy episode I'm a bit wary of eating too much. 

* cilantro
* taragon
* scallion


This cheddar cheese is amazing. It's mysteriously powerful. A little goes a long way and this is a lot. Due to its power I find that it's better in combinations than it is by itself. 



Three large eggs. 

This dimpled greenpan (grayish white actually) is so slippery that I cannot fold an omelet in it. The whole mass just keeps sliding around. There is no friction whatsoever. And a bit of friction is needed to fold it to begin and to get it to roll out of the pan. 


shrimp with tomato, cucumber and celery


Doesn't that sound innocuous?

In addition to the ingredients in the title, this also has: 

* onion
* clam juice
* flavor from shrimp shells
* catsup
* jalapeño
* habanero sauce
* generous cilantro
* salt and pepper

But no avocado even though there is one just sitting there.

And it is not innocuous. 

These are the ingredients presented on YouTube by member FoodWishes for Mexican shrimp cocktail. Except these ingredients are not diced finely. They're all kept to large chunks. It was a good idea, and it does taste incredible, but today they lead to an unhappy experience.

Today I made a  series of food-related critical mistakes one after another in grazing mode involving this leftover combination and other of my all-time favorite things. This is spicy and hot. 

I don't know why the liquid thickens but so far, all four times, I think, it has. The host of Food Wishes tells his viewers to expect the liquid to thin as it chills due to the salt drawing out moisture. But mine does not. I like the sauce becoming thicker than when I left it to chill, but that is unique in the world of Mexican shrimp cocktails. Outside of my kitchen the liquid is always like water.

I ate all that's left all at once. That was for breakfast. And it was delicious.

But it's light and I was not satisfied. 

So I cut off a very thick disc of watermelon. About three inches. More than you ever get at a picnic. Standing there the whole time spitting out seeds into the sink. It was a lot of watermelon and I ate the whole thing all at once. And it was super delicious.

But that's mostly water and I was a bit full but still not satisfied. Not hungry, but not satisfied. So I mixed a Mason jar of Ovaltine mixed with milk. A lot of Ovaltine and a lot of milk. A full quart size wide-mouth jar. It was very dark with malted chocolate and I drank the whole thing all at once. And it was delicious. Finally I was satisfied.

But then I felt a bit weird. My stomach was heavy with liquids.

These three things all at once were not a good combination.

So I learned.

The hard way.

My stomach grumbled. I could feel things moving around inside my body. I became uncomfortable. I laid on the sofa and I could feel pressure building inside my internal organs. Moving around in my stomach that made me feel like a cow, and inside all the tubes down inside there in darkness. Moving around and grumbling. And moving and grumbling. My body was complaining. My body was active. It wouldn't shut up. My body was processing all I had just delivered it. And it was processing quickly. 

I became flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. And flatulent. 

It's a good thing I live by myself.

The mumbling and grumbling and noises and expulsions were terribly uncomfortable. This combination of liquid food was perfect material for fermentation. And the whole thing was incredibly fast. 

Then finally painfully too uncomfortable to bear. I'm in trouble.

And finally explosive.

I hastened to the bathroom and whipped off my clothing and sat there on the toilet with gushes of liquid exploding out my bottom. With my butt covering the entire seat I passed liquid material out my back end in gushes, loudly, explosively. Shooting out of me like a firehose. An ugly sick disgusting firehose. I could actually fell my whole body draining, becoming thinner, and lighter.

In series these miserable floods passed out my body as my internal lower tubing re-pressurized repeatedly, the expulsions becoming less violent as time passed. I sat there experiencing this evacuation for half an hour and realizing the pauses between explosions were lengthening and expulsions were lessening to my tremendous relief. Actual physical relief. 

I laughed. 

Because the insane mess created by backsplash really was insanely funny.

Were anyone else around they'd be laughing too. Finally the drainage ended. Seemed to. I knew I could sit there and still have more come out of me. I knew that would not be the end of it. The pauses had lengthened comfortably but that didn't mean the whole thing had ended. 

I stepped into the shower and rinsed my filthy body. I messed the floor with filthy drips just getting into the shower. I saw the mess drain down the bathtub. Very dark Ovaltine concentrations. I soaped up my body and properly showered. Then set to cleaning and decontaminating the entire bathroom, a full job itself. 

But still flatulent. And this went on for hours. All day. 

By the time the flatulence ended and the remnant nutrition absorbed, my body had cleared itself so rudely so messily I was hungry all over again. Really hungry.

This wonderfully delicious shrimp combination is all gone now. 

And now I look askance at the rest of the watermelon, quite a lot, actually, even though I still love it so.

And I have second thoughts about Ovaltine, still a favorite of mine since childhood. Even after all that dissuasion.

Maybe I can learn something here about favorite combinations in quantity. I don't know. I'm terribly slow on the uptake. 

light summer dinner, raw tuna, flavored rice, daikon, miso, red bell pepper






Yesterday a friend dropped by and we did this with a knob of daikon to add radish to a salad and I must say it really was good. Both of us liked it very well. 

This is not sushi grade tuna but I don't care. It's actually fairly low quality. Sushi grade will be five times this cost. And I suppose it is worth it. 

The miso is straight, not turned into soup. It makes a nice switch for wasabi. And I have jalapeños in the rice so the heat quotient is already met. 

And I don't know why I don't eat a lot more red bell peppers. I like them sautéed, dressed with oil/vinegar, and raw. 

Although stuffed bell peppers was never a childhood favorite, I'd probably like them now. But I never have made them. It sounds like a good idea. Mum made them with green bell peppers and I was all, "Ick." Mostly because they have the word "pepper" in them. So rejected by name. Same with anything with the word "sour" in them. Sour cream, for example, is just flat no. Who would ever want that? I was twenty years old before even giving it a try. And sauerkraut just sounds awful. So does sweet and sour. Hot and sour. Sourdough, yuck. Whiskey sour. Sauerbraten. Why in the world would anyone eat anything named sour? It didn't make sense. Well, same thing with pepper. From a child's perspective, those words will not do. I still have all that hard childhood determination yet to overcome. Sour doesn't mean actually sour, and pepper doesn't mean black pepper. I know that but the prejudice still lingers.

As a teenager a friend's mother ran a hotel. I hung around the place quite a lot. Her other older son saw me sprinkle pepper on breakfast eggs at the hotel. I was just imitating my dad. I had no idea what the pepper was supposed to do. I just wanted a few black dots like my dad. The older son sort of scared me. He said, "What is that? You can't even taste that." He mocked me. "Put more pepper on that." He was right. I couldn't taste it. I did add more pepper. And it did improve the whole thing. It takes a very long time for children to overcome their food prejudices and habits. They sort these things as they go. And it sometimes takes a person like that older brother to notice and set you straight. Or else you just keep chugging along in ignorance. And you won't believe what sets up in children's minds. Stuffed peppers is one such thing. My childhood self didn't like them. 

duck liver corn flake coating, sweet onion in broth, angel hair pasta with cream sauce




When we lived in Pennsylvania and again when we lived in Louisiana my father was separated from us for months for additional training in Biloxi Mississippi. As kids we just hated these prolonged separations. Our whole family order falls apart. The posting in Louisiana allowed for us to travel to be with him because it's like, what, one state over and very near on the Gulf coast to New Orleans, actually. Heck of a vacation that, we all went there a couple of times, and boy, did we ever get an eyeful. We saw the base, of course, and played on the beaches, went through all the shops, ate out all the time, had fantastic seafood, but one particular scene among many others sticks out for our childhood impressions. We didn't know what we were seeing.

The scene is an old Southern wooden house with very large stacked porches. It reminds me of Streetcar Named Desire. We're looking down at the activity on the street from a screened porch. It's hot and airy up there if not actually breezy. It's noon. Suddenly my sister goes, "Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby! Look it! Look it! Look it. Bobby, come over here and look it this." She was very repeaty when she got excited. We both peered over the edge to a skinny man in his twenties, old to us, rather poor in appearance, barefooted, t-shirt, loose pants rolled up, sitting on the hood of a car and smearing peanut butter from a jar onto an onion and eating the whole thing like an apple. 

Like an apple! 

Smear, chomp. Smear, chomp. Smear, chomp. We watched him devour the whole onion. It was a very large white onion. And that was his lunch.

It blew our minds.

The bizarre sight left a lasting impression. Years later we still couldn't get over that Mississippi guy eating a raw onion. 

How could he even do that? Imagine his breath! We had no concept of Georgian Vidalia onions. And had we just known we'd have been a lot smarter a lot earlier. Those onions are very sweet.

But I learned they do not store very well. When you buy them you must use them rather quickly. No sitting around the pantry in a bag for a month. 

And they lack the onion essence that make the whole allium family so useful in cooking. Although very good raw. They're less interesting cooked.

Now a lot of places hopped the sweet onion bandwagon, notably Walla Walla Washington and Maui Hawaii, Imperial Valley California is one of the leading growers, Carzalia New Mexico, Texas, Nevada, North Carolina, and these here are from Colorado. They're not so sweet as some others but they sure are good and they lack the sulfur component that make your eyes sting.

After searing in butter then chicken stock is added to the pan and covered until the onion is cooked through. The remaining liquid becomes the base for the sauce. Heavy cream is added to that along with additional seasoning. 

The same pan is rinsed out and butter added again to fry the livers. That takes only a few minutes until the livers become firm.

The livers were trimmed and cut into pieces and coated before starting the onions and boiling the pasta which also takes only a few minutes. The activity in the kitchen is rapid for these few minutes. The longest things are the onion halves softening in broth and bringing water to boil for pasta. After that, it's on.

Don't you hate getting down to the bottom of your box of corn flakes to find tiny bits and flake dust, then have to just throw it away? You can relieve the stress of corn flake waste by saving it in a jar. Box by box until you have enough to do things like this with it. It contributes an appealing crunchy texture to an otherwise texturally uninteresting protein. It's also useful for cookies. Imagine brownies with a crunch to them. This crunchy duck liver is very good. I'm glad that I thought of this. 

I love it when the liver is included with whole chickens. I was surprised to see it inside the frozen duck. I appreciate that. It amounts to another whole separate dinner. 

blueberries with cornflakes and whole milk

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