Thursday, May 30, 2013

Summer Scavengers






                                    

It's official.

 
It’s finally summer.
 
And this means a whole new laundry list of special things to look forward to:
 
Special camps that cost as much as college; special spills, stains, and abandoned honey-do 
lists that wave like forgotten flags from the fridge;  special bugs, weeds and webs that 
grow like wildfire from your now wilted flower beds.  
 
I know for me, at least, those first few magical days of summer glow like the beginnings 
of a copper-colored tan only to quickly burn, peel and then fade in the brutal heat of slap 
fights, "I'm bored" s and "I told you so" s.  
 
Tattling spreads like kudzu.  Words filled with teen angst sting like wasps, and soiled 
laundry unfolds like a never-ending smelly mess of your own undoing.
 
So, sure.  It's summer and as Billy says, "the living is easy." Only that's just for kids,
critters, cacti and those who find comic relief in shooting half-filled cans of soda off the 
couch with a nerd pellet gun and a sling shot (husbands. I am talking to you.)
 
For the rest of us, that being moms, it's a wholly hell of a hard time.  
 
Yes, you get to sleep in while your children wreck your house and clean out the pantry, 
but then you have to try and brush the dreadlocks out of their hair, force them to wear 
what a few weeks ago they knew to be shoes, and shove them into a pair of new shorts
with the tags still attached that they've just outgrown.  All of that, just to drive four miles 
to the Winn Dixie.
 
Fast-forward an hour later when you've checked out, and for the love of all things 
healthy, not know how they snuck into the cart three boxes of Stars Wars gummies, 
two sleeves of Double Stuff Oreos and a case of Mountain Dew that will disappear 
within 30 minutes, along with your weekly secret stash of mini Snickers.
 
Not only do these little scavengers raid the fridge, cabinets, and pantries because 
they are that bored, but they pillage junk drawers, craft closets, crates, winter coat pockets 
and jewelry cases.  Basically, they will tear into anything that has a lid, lock, or closing 
mechanism on it.
 
Me, I'm ready to send them back where they came from -school- after just one whole 
week off.  This is because I'm sick and tired of stepping on tiny sharp Lego pieces that 
cut like knives, prickly pipe cleaners glued-along with plastic wiggly eyes- to the 
hardwoods, and the spiky heels of my entire shoe collection that's been confiscated for 
a neighborhood stage showing of Wicked.
 
And I haven’t even brought up the dozen damp, moldy socks and t-shirts you find under 
their bed that require smelling salts, 2 aspirin and an emergency call to your physician.
 
Then one day, it hit me, right out of the blue.  Kind of like a haphazardly kicked soccer 
ball aimed carelessly to my head. You see, I was writing out a Scavenger List to get my 
dependents out of my hair for a few.  Usually, I write down every day, garden variety 
objects for them to find.  You know, a leaf as big as their head....a frog, a snail, a puppy 
dog tail (attached of course)....sticks to spell out their name, dreams and aspirations in 
paragraph form, and if possible, indented.
 
But I suddenly stopped, scratched out my list and started thinking about myself for a 
change.  
 
So here is my new Summer Scavenger List for 2013.  You are more than welcome to 
print it, then hand it out with an extra large garbage bag, a garden hoe and a laundry
 hamper; the bigger the better. First one done gets bragging rights, dibs on the next 
movie pick and your own secret stash of mini Snickers (I know, that one hurts, but 
trust me it'll be well worth it.)
 
Here Goes:
 
1.) 20 weeds from the front yard and 30 from the back.  Healthy grass does not count 
and will incur an automatic ten minute time-out.
 
2.) 3 objects from the fridge and 5 from the pantry that have an expired after 2012.  
Extra point for anything found from the 1990's.
 
3.) 4 pairs of socks, matching and tethered together for eternity or at least one more 
wash along with one folded towel off the floor Febreezed, dried and folded.
 
4.) An empty toilet tissue roll, point is only awarded if replaced by a new one.
 
5.) One extremely shrill performance from the Sound of Music sung off key and 
standing directly in front of Dad.  Point awarded only if it is so annoying he finally 
stops watching TV or blowing up aliens on your Play Station to change out all the 
burned out light bulbs and takes out the trash.
 
 
I don't know how much peace and serenity this will grant you this summer, but at 
least you'll get a few things done around the house without lifting a finger or breaking 
off a nail. And even if a mother’s work is never done, there’s certainly no solid reason 
to really suffer.
 
As the late, great Erma Bombeck once said about domestic duties- and though this is a 
guess, her children- " if the item doesn't multiply, smell, catch fire or block the 
refrigerator door, let it be.  No one else cares.  Why should you?" 
 
And if a scavenger hunt for your little scavengers seems like too much trouble, no 
worries.  
 
Let it all sit, simmer, stew and/ or mildew because if you can't beat them, we'll....
you can surely join them.
 
See you in the trenches.
 
It's finally summer.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 





 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 








Wednesday, May 29, 2013

SOUTHERN LIVING'S FEEL GOOD FOOD COOKBOOK CONTEST


Morning, everyone!  For those of you who have already picked through the Wednesday paper, you already know I'm having a contest for a free copy of Southern Living's gorgeous new cookbook Feel Good Food: Simple and Satisfying Recipes with a Fresh Twist.  All you have to do is message me with one of your funniest and most treasured cooking tales of all time.  Here's mine that was published in this morning's column of the Coastal Illustrated
My favorite cooking tale involves my husband’s families Christmas Eve party a few years back.  Those of you who know Charlie’s mom, Flo, know she’s Pennsylvania Dutch, born in Harrisburg by way of Quebec.  His dad’s is New England all the way coming over not too long after those first pilgrims from England in the later part of the 1600’s. 

His parents were the first of both their collective families to move down South and soon after many followed for the warm climate, great food and …of course…down-home hospitality.  At least, for the holidays, that is.

I’ll never forget that night my mom, as Southern as Southern comes, brought a Virginia Country Ham.  She presented the gorgeous burlap-encased slab of swine to Flo tied with an over-sized cranberry crushed velvet bow as a holiday gift not knowing she would immediately turn around, slice it with her electronic saw, and then place it raw on a platter next to GiGi’s Banberry tarts and a Dutch oven full of Boston Baked Beans.

It wasn’t long before Flo’s cousin Rick gnawed on a healthy slice of the cured ham, then promptly stumbled to our table, downed my daughters High-C, Charlie’s half a cup of warm beer, someone who was still at the buffet line’s full glass of Cab and a pitcher of water that previously housed several stems of holly, a fresh Poinsettia sprig and a plastic Elf.

“Whatever you guys do,” he says between pants.  “Don’t try the prosciutto.”

Stories aside, I just really love this cookbook. It's got it all- from Beer Margaritas to Kentucky Benedictine Tea Sandwiches to Mama's German Chocolate Cake.  It truly is more than just a cookbook with sweet stories and memories from Southern Living's senior writer Valerie Fraser Luesse tucked in among the pages.  For a Southerner, it's like coming home and for a first-timer trying their hand at this down-home regional cuisine, it couldn't be a more simple or delicious.
So as promised, I have reprinted the Pickled Okra and Shrimp Salad recipe to share with your family and friends and thrown in the recipe for Texas Toast Tomato Sandwiches.
All you have to do now is share a funny memory or two from the kitchen.  It's like story telling...family style.  Can't wait to hear from you soon!  Laura
                                               TEXAS TOAST TOMATO SANDWICHES




1 package five-cheese Texas toast

2lb. assorted heirloom tomatoes

1/4 cup bottled blue cheese vinaigrette

6 Tbsp. torn fresh basil

Salt & pepper to taste

Garnish: crumbled blue cheese, fresh basil leaves


1 .) Prepare Texas toast according to package directions.

2.) Meanwhile, halve larger tomatoes and cut into 1/4 inch thick slices; halve or quarter smaller tomatoes.  Gently toss tomatoes with vinaigrette, basil, salt and pepper to taste.  Serve immediately over hot Texas Toast.  Garnish, if desired.



PICKLED OKRA AND SHRIMP SALAD


1 (3-oz) package boil-in-bag shrimp-and-crab boil
1 ½ peeled and deveined shrimp- medium/raw

½ cup sliced sweet-hot pickled okra (Wickles is awesome and at the HT)

1 (4 oz) jar dices pimento, drained

1/3 cup mayo

3 Tbsp minced red onion

½ tsp lime zest

3 Tbsp fresh lime juice

¼ tsp pepper

1/8 tsp salt

3 large avocados, sliced

1.)    Bring 8 cups of water to a boil in a 3-quart saucepan; add crab boil, and cook 5 minutes.  Add shrimp; cover, remove from heat, and let stand 10 minutes or until shrimp turns pink.  Drain and cool ten minutes.

2.)    Meanwhile, combine pickled okra, diced pimento, and next 6 ingredients.  Add shrimp, and serve immediately with avocado slices or chill until ready to serve.

           


Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Big Bottom Girls





Hold the phone, y'all.


Stop the presses.


Sit down cause you are never going to believe what I am about to tell you.


A researcher in Australia recently conducted a study that shows..... Wait for it.... Wait for it.....


Trying on swim suits tend to make women depressed. 


Yes, that's right. It seems tugging a teeny, tiny, tight piece of fancy, fake fiber up over your hips can make you feel down in the dumps, objectified, and plain old mean.


Seriously.  Don't we all already know that? I think the earliest study was done in the Garden of Eden when Eve stared at her figure in the reflective light of a shallow tidal pool under that apple tree and wondered if the fig leaves made her butt look big.


Who really needed 102 female grad students, a four page questionnaire, and a forty dollar stipend to uncover that piece of earthshaking news?  Find me someone who just loves, and I mean loves, to try on bathing suits in the crippling light of fluorescent bulbs while  imaging themselves bending over, squatting, running and chasing after kids, a Frisbee, a floppy hat, and/ or a dog day all day and I've got some gorgeous beachfront property in Ohio to sell them.


This is how it really goes down:


After two hours, lots of tears, and a dozen different sizes, styles, and "how ya doing in there”s...most women find a suit that'll do, hold their nose, and surrender some serious cash before marching straight on down to the outdoor food court for an iced mocha and a cinnamon sugared soft pretzel and a serious dose of fresh air.


Though there was one interesting part of the study, that when I read it, made me pause, take a sip of my morning Chocolate Royale Slim Fast shake, and say out loud "well, you could have fooled me".  It was the part explaining that women were more upset and disparaged in the dressing room than wearing the suit out on the beach.  This is because, once they are out having fun in the sun, these lab rats said they get too busy and kind of forget about being stuffed in, tied up tight, and lodged into a garment about as big as a industrial size glue gun.


But I don't buy it for a second.....even if you did have a couple strawberry daiquiris and a Miller Lite before you unrolled your beach mat and sprayed on your SPF 50.  You simply don't fail to remember, especially when a nice easterly breeze flows by, that you don't have a whole heck of a lot on.


See, imbibing or not, I find them both equally terrifying and depressing.....the trying on and then the subsequent wearing of the overpriced slip of shiny looking material masquerading as a slice of artificial second skin.  But hey, that's just me. 


Trying to chase down a seagull (who just snatched my baby’s favorite sand toy) does not make me overlook the fact that I just might have a wedgie the size of one of those Styrofoam pool noodles in my sand packed bathing suit bottom.  Or as I run...well, jog...alright, walk quickly after the pesky bird, I am probably exposing the very parts of me that I have no personal desire for the rest of the world to see....even if I shaved my legs the night before and am sporting on all-over body spray tan.


Cause let's face it, y'all.  When you peel on your one hundred and twenty dollar swimsuit, we all know we're just putting on a more expensive and fancier pair of glorified underwear and no marketing genius from Madison Ave is going ever to change that.


But all this pity and malaise is not particularly fair to me and my self-image.  At least, that's what all the experts keep telling me.


They say I should love me for me.  I should embrace my curves; every hairpin and harrowingly steep-sized one of them.


Better yet I should work it like I own it, strut my stuff, put a little swagger in my step.  Basically, I should show it all off with aplomb, confidence, and a hefty helping of attitude.


I don't do that in my regular clothes.  Most people I know don't do that either.


So as we now enter into one of the most disheartening and irritating times of the year, fear not fellow ladies.  For no fluorescent lightening, flimsy fabric, or forceful sales girl can keep us down.


Go ahead, girls.  Get moving and go gracefully towards that good night ....uh, I mean ....towards that rack of swimsuits at your local department store or boutique. The inanimate and microscopic sack of quick drying spandex might make you testy but it's not going to bite.  That's what the May flies, gnats, and overpriced frozen drinks are for.


See all of you bathing beauties out on the sand this summer.  I’ll be the one covered up to my neck in it.