We took advantage of the swim meet (kids transported by bus far away and then home safely hours later) to make my dear friend Rachel’s Sweet Potato Cranberry Quick Bread. Rach often includes a sweet potato recipe in her holiday greetings. She slipped this one to me on the side last year (admittedly, through Facebook). I can’t begin to describe the comfort and bliss the aroma of this bread baking gives me. EPIC. When I’m down and out? Forget Simon, Garfunkel, any bridge over any water. Give me this baking bread.
Fresh cranberries from the fridge, bought during an “oh, shiny!” moment at the grocery before Thanksgiving, with full knowledge we wouldn’t use them for that particular holiday. We get ‘em while we can, as these edible garnets aren’t available year-round in our grocery. Add Bob Evans (yes, processed) sweet potato, rescued from the mark-down bin at our grocery, stored in the freezer until now. The price of a few preservatives to make this bread when the cranberries are fresh isn’t a difficult one to justify. We have boiled and mashed fresh sweet potatoes for this purpose before and been rewarded with a simpler taste, but sometimes we use what we have available. We added butter, orange juice and eggs from the refrigerator, then slivered almonds, spices, brown sugar, flour (1/3 whole wheat) and baking powder from the pantry.
One batch fits well in the stoneware mini-loaf pan from Pampered Chef. Yields four GREAT holiday gifts. Another batch (with the additional ½ c. sweet potato left over) made a nice Bundt pan sized brunch bread for Sunday.
We shared this bounty with our Sunday school class (at least with those not training for some half or full marathon or something, those healthy-minded folks… bring on an oven marathon and I’m in training!). We gave the rest to a friend whose family eats and appreciates EVERYTHING shared their way.
Oh, I have four mini-loaves left for holiday gifts. Look out, First Janet, these may well find their way to your caroling party!!!
Rach's Cranberry-Sweet Potato Quick Bread
makes one regular (9"x5") or four mini-loaves
2 1/2 c. flour (I like 1 c. whole wheat and the rest white)
1 c. brown sugar
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. nutmeg
3/4 c. mashed sweet potato
3/4 c. egg substitute (the original low-fat version) or about 4 eggs (Rach uses her own hens' organic eggs)
1/3 c. orange juice (squeeze it yourself if you have healthy oranges!)
1/4 c. margarine (original version - yuk) or butter (that's more like it), melted and cooled
1 c. cranberries, chopped (Rach says you can use dried cranberries, but they'll be much sweeter and less bright)
2 T. almonds, chopped
Mix dry ingredients and make a well in the center. Beat eggs slightly with OJ and butter, pour into well and mix lightly. Mix in remaining ingredients. Spoon into baking pan(s). Bake at 350degF for 1 hr 10 min. Cool 10 minutes, then unmold. Make coffee and eat well.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
First Friday Feast
Friday's meal was wonderfully easy and wonderfully satisfying:
Boiled hot dogs (found deep in the freezer) with “hot dog chili" (leftover from DD’s birthday cookout), cole slaw and potato salad (left over from last week), plus some fries found (again) at the back of the freezer.
After the earlier confession about my chili-inspired nickname and it's history, it's fair to also reveal my passion for chili as a main course (or in this case, a condiment). Our chili is often a "what-the-heck-why-not" recipe, meaning I throw in anything we have on hand that seems interesting and somewhat harmonious. Who's guessing we have chili on New Year's Eve around here?! These are feasts (or famines!) which will never be recreated exactly because I rarely write it down. Veggie, beef, steak, chicken, spicy, mild, with tomatoes or white, but always with beans: kidney, black, white, even garbanzo beans. Chunky and spicy. Like me!
This condiment I refer to as "hot dog chili" is really a creature of a different sort. I don't think I'd ever had a "chili dog" before moving to Virginia almost 20 years ago, although I had seen them on menus during my travelling days. In Ohio I fell in love with Skyline Chili's 3-Ways (Cincinnati-style chili over spaghetti with shredded cheddar cheese) and learned what a Coney Dog is from the menu. Never ordered one. DH's introduction to Skyline wasn't as much of a rave as mine. Skyline is on my bucket list, not his.
Shortly after moving to southwest Virginia, I received a fantastic local culinary lesson. DH's extended family was planning a birthday cookout. We discussed what to bring for the potluck. Menu was simple enough: hot dogs and the works. SIL was bringing chili, so I offered to bring cheese and sour cream or tortilla chips or corn muffins (the kinds of things I associate with chili) or a second kind of chili altogether (not the "substituted" kind, I promised, probably the white chicken version I'm fond of).
DH says, "Um, DEAR, I think she'll bring chili for the hot dogs, and she'll certainly have enough." Oh. Right. Reset thinking. I've seen that. Coney Dogs at Skyline. Should I make spaghetti? "No." (See previous remark about DH's introduction to Skyline). Is there a recipe? "Probably not". When pressed for time (SIL has very busy career and active family), you can get this at the grocery. Open cans, add water and heat. OH. RIGHT. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
Somewhere between then and last year, Someone Wonderful asked me to make chili for a church youth function. Meaning the kind for hot dogs. Asked ME. A Northerner. A Damn Yankee (you know, the ones who move South and STAY), those folks who don't know anything about making biscuits, gravy, tea (sweet and iced, not hot and add-your-own-sweet-if-you-like), BBQ (the noun which involves pork, not the verb meaning to cook outside) or chili (condiment for hot dogs).
I need a culinary interpreter. A study in food's foreign language with the Southern dialect.
My first inclination was to search my library of cookbooks for a recipe. It's a nice library (thanks to KKS-PHD, Mom, Sigrid, Sis, Aunts Dawn and Ellen, my friend VISA), I don't like to simply open cans (don't start on how much easier it would be if I did, and don't lecture me when I use canned goods to help in a pinch).
For the kids? For a church gathering? I'm cooking. From scratch. This is a fundamental belief, that all wonderful people should eat tasty, (mostly) healthy food. I know how to cook and I intend to prove it!
Pay attention here. I'm about to give away a "secret recipe"!!!!
I turned to my Despiration! friends Alicia and Beverly. They have another phenomenal cookbook (go out and buy this one too... get it together with the other one I suggested and you will get both a discount and probably free shipping!) titled Despiration Entertaining!
The recipe is Carolina Chili Dogs. I made this recipe for that original event and then by request (from same Someone Wonderful, who "doesn't like hot dog chili but likes this!" for several years, at least until a recent bout with flu put an end to this devotion. On DD's birthday at that, thus the leftovers in our fridge this week).
We were asked to bring something for DS's baseball concessions stand last spring, I volunteered one batch and was immediately asked to bring gallons (at 2T. per hot dog, a gallon goes a LONG way feeding hungry baseball players and families). At one point our family freezer had 15# of on-sale hamburger stored to make this condiment upon request, when it ever stopped raining. Double-headers were the best: LOTS of hot dogs sold to captive players and their related audience.
My Despiration Entertaining! cookbook has "Janet's version = for a crowd" calculations in the margin. The spine on my paperback version is broken open there. Easy to find... kinda like looking for the spots on the pages for a family's favorite recipes.
There's no secret recipe: I bought it! I bought the recipe in a cookbook in a bookstore (how RETRO!) and the ingredients in a grocery (how retro again - not a superstore!). I put them together (with a variation, no substitutions!), and it's a chili condiment for hot dogs. One which People Request. HEHE. I'm publishing my crowd version here but expect you to buy your own version of the cookbook as well.
Our family take on hot dogs includes “Yankee Buns”: DH’s term for the “New England Split-Top Buns" ubiquitous in Maine but in limited supply here in southwest VA. More dough, less crust than the standard buns available here. Soft sides we grill with butter to a golden, crispy-but-still-soft perfection. DH moaned (with pleasure) the first time he tasted boiled hot dogs with "grilled Yankee buns" and corn chowdah at Mom's Welcome Back Again Inn (my mother's home, alternative B&B, hostel, refuge, "free" bathroom (leave a quarter), Next Generation hangout, back-to-basics-boot-camp, heavy tools warehouse, and unexpected greeting card inspiration) in Maine.
All this, “Says You” (one of my favorite radio programs ever), AND a movie tonight. Microwave popcorn from the pantry. Mom, papa, kids, even the pets were satisfied tonight.
Score two for the freezer and three for the fridge, only two hot dog/bun pairs and chili leftover. Those vanished during someone's Saturday snack-time. No one's confessing, but I have my suspects.
Hokie Hot Dogs for a crowd
2T per serving, makes a gallon or so.
(my SWVA variation on Despiration Entertaining!'s Carolina Chili Dogs)
6# ground meat (up to 2# turkey or chicken, the rest beef of any fat content)*
3 onions, finely chopped
3 cans (12 oz) tomato paste
3 cups ketchup
3 Tbsp. chili powder
1/4 c. Worcestershire sauce
2 Tbsp. vinegar
2 Tbsp. salt
Ground pepper to taste (I use plenty!)
Water, as needed
*(Here's where my recipe differs). I prefer to cook the meat before making the chili, because I want to get most (but not all) of the fat out. It's less expensive (because you can use burger with higher fat content), but it does take longer. I usually add a generous scoop (about 1/2 c.) of the cooked-out fat/water mixture to the larger chili pot as I transfer the meat with a slotted spoon, then water to make up the difference.
1. Place the meat (2# at a time) in a large skillet. Cook over med heat until brown all the way through. Transfer meat with a slotted spoon to large pot. Reserve other fat/juice to separate container. When all of the meat is completely cooked, add ladle (1 at a time) of reserved fat/juice (and water as preferred) to pot until meat is covered, but not swimming, in liquid.
2. Add chopped onion. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce heat to medium.
3. Add tomato paste, ketchup, chili powder, Worcestershire sauce, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Stir well until the tomato paste has dissolved and the meat is broken up.
4. Continue to cook the chili at a slow boil, stirring every 5 minutes or so, until the mixture is thick (about 15 minutes). As the mixture thickens, you may have to reduce the heat to prevent sticking.
5. Move chili to crock pot set on LOW. Serve on hot dogs. Add water as needed, stirring well, to maintain desired consistency.
Boiled hot dogs (found deep in the freezer) with “hot dog chili" (leftover from DD’s birthday cookout), cole slaw and potato salad (left over from last week), plus some fries found (again) at the back of the freezer.
After the earlier confession about my chili-inspired nickname and it's history, it's fair to also reveal my passion for chili as a main course (or in this case, a condiment). Our chili is often a "what-the-heck-why-not" recipe, meaning I throw in anything we have on hand that seems interesting and somewhat harmonious. Who's guessing we have chili on New Year's Eve around here?! These are feasts (or famines!) which will never be recreated exactly because I rarely write it down. Veggie, beef, steak, chicken, spicy, mild, with tomatoes or white, but always with beans: kidney, black, white, even garbanzo beans. Chunky and spicy. Like me!
This condiment I refer to as "hot dog chili" is really a creature of a different sort. I don't think I'd ever had a "chili dog" before moving to Virginia almost 20 years ago, although I had seen them on menus during my travelling days. In Ohio I fell in love with Skyline Chili's 3-Ways (Cincinnati-style chili over spaghetti with shredded cheddar cheese) and learned what a Coney Dog is from the menu. Never ordered one. DH's introduction to Skyline wasn't as much of a rave as mine. Skyline is on my bucket list, not his.
Shortly after moving to southwest Virginia, I received a fantastic local culinary lesson. DH's extended family was planning a birthday cookout. We discussed what to bring for the potluck. Menu was simple enough: hot dogs and the works. SIL was bringing chili, so I offered to bring cheese and sour cream or tortilla chips or corn muffins (the kinds of things I associate with chili) or a second kind of chili altogether (not the "substituted" kind, I promised, probably the white chicken version I'm fond of).
DH says, "Um, DEAR, I think she'll bring chili for the hot dogs, and she'll certainly have enough." Oh. Right. Reset thinking. I've seen that. Coney Dogs at Skyline. Should I make spaghetti? "No." (See previous remark about DH's introduction to Skyline). Is there a recipe? "Probably not". When pressed for time (SIL has very busy career and active family), you can get this at the grocery. Open cans, add water and heat. OH. RIGHT. Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
Somewhere between then and last year, Someone Wonderful asked me to make chili for a church youth function. Meaning the kind for hot dogs. Asked ME. A Northerner. A Damn Yankee (you know, the ones who move South and STAY), those folks who don't know anything about making biscuits, gravy, tea (sweet and iced, not hot and add-your-own-sweet-if-you-like), BBQ (the noun which involves pork, not the verb meaning to cook outside) or chili (condiment for hot dogs).
I need a culinary interpreter. A study in food's foreign language with the Southern dialect.
My first inclination was to search my library of cookbooks for a recipe. It's a nice library (thanks to KKS-PHD, Mom, Sigrid, Sis, Aunts Dawn and Ellen, my friend VISA), I don't like to simply open cans (don't start on how much easier it would be if I did, and don't lecture me when I use canned goods to help in a pinch).
For the kids? For a church gathering? I'm cooking. From scratch. This is a fundamental belief, that all wonderful people should eat tasty, (mostly) healthy food. I know how to cook and I intend to prove it!
Pay attention here. I'm about to give away a "secret recipe"!!!!
I turned to my Despiration! friends Alicia and Beverly. They have another phenomenal cookbook (go out and buy this one too... get it together with the other one I suggested and you will get both a discount and probably free shipping!) titled Despiration Entertaining!
The recipe is Carolina Chili Dogs. I made this recipe for that original event and then by request (from same Someone Wonderful, who "doesn't like hot dog chili but likes this!" for several years, at least until a recent bout with flu put an end to this devotion. On DD's birthday at that, thus the leftovers in our fridge this week).
We were asked to bring something for DS's baseball concessions stand last spring, I volunteered one batch and was immediately asked to bring gallons (at 2T. per hot dog, a gallon goes a LONG way feeding hungry baseball players and families). At one point our family freezer had 15# of on-sale hamburger stored to make this condiment upon request, when it ever stopped raining. Double-headers were the best: LOTS of hot dogs sold to captive players and their related audience.
My Despiration Entertaining! cookbook has "Janet's version = for a crowd" calculations in the margin. The spine on my paperback version is broken open there. Easy to find... kinda like looking for the spots on the pages for a family's favorite recipes.
There's no secret recipe: I bought it! I bought the recipe in a cookbook in a bookstore (how RETRO!) and the ingredients in a grocery (how retro again - not a superstore!). I put them together (with a variation, no substitutions!), and it's a chili condiment for hot dogs. One which People Request. HEHE. I'm publishing my crowd version here but expect you to buy your own version of the cookbook as well.
Our family take on hot dogs includes “Yankee Buns”: DH’s term for the “New England Split-Top Buns" ubiquitous in Maine but in limited supply here in southwest VA. More dough, less crust than the standard buns available here. Soft sides we grill with butter to a golden, crispy-but-still-soft perfection. DH moaned (with pleasure) the first time he tasted boiled hot dogs with "grilled Yankee buns" and corn chowdah at Mom's Welcome Back Again Inn (my mother's home, alternative B&B, hostel, refuge, "free" bathroom (leave a quarter), Next Generation hangout, back-to-basics-boot-camp, heavy tools warehouse, and unexpected greeting card inspiration) in Maine.
All this, “Says You” (one of my favorite radio programs ever), AND a movie tonight. Microwave popcorn from the pantry. Mom, papa, kids, even the pets were satisfied tonight.
Score two for the freezer and three for the fridge, only two hot dog/bun pairs and chili leftover. Those vanished during someone's Saturday snack-time. No one's confessing, but I have my suspects.
Hokie Hot Dogs for a crowd
2T per serving, makes a gallon or so.
(my SWVA variation on Despiration Entertaining!'s Carolina Chili Dogs)
6# ground meat (up to 2# turkey or chicken, the rest beef of any fat content)*
3 onions, finely chopped
3 cans (12 oz) tomato paste
3 cups ketchup
3 Tbsp. chili powder
1/4 c. Worcestershire sauce
2 Tbsp. vinegar
2 Tbsp. salt
Ground pepper to taste (I use plenty!)
Water, as needed
*(Here's where my recipe differs). I prefer to cook the meat before making the chili, because I want to get most (but not all) of the fat out. It's less expensive (because you can use burger with higher fat content), but it does take longer. I usually add a generous scoop (about 1/2 c.) of the cooked-out fat/water mixture to the larger chili pot as I transfer the meat with a slotted spoon, then water to make up the difference.
1. Place the meat (2# at a time) in a large skillet. Cook over med heat until brown all the way through. Transfer meat with a slotted spoon to large pot. Reserve other fat/juice to separate container. When all of the meat is completely cooked, add ladle (1 at a time) of reserved fat/juice (and water as preferred) to pot until meat is covered, but not swimming, in liquid.
2. Add chopped onion. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce heat to medium.
3. Add tomato paste, ketchup, chili powder, Worcestershire sauce, vinegar, salt, and pepper. Stir well until the tomato paste has dissolved and the meat is broken up.
4. Continue to cook the chili at a slow boil, stirring every 5 minutes or so, until the mixture is thick (about 15 minutes). As the mixture thickens, you may have to reduce the heat to prevent sticking.
5. Move chili to crock pot set on LOW. Serve on hot dogs. Add water as needed, stirring well, to maintain desired consistency.
Everyone's on Board the First Day
This feels like the start of a diet. Everyone’s game in the beginning, it’s even fun!
We start out the month of using what we have with an easy dinner. Particularly easy because I didn't have to make it! I left the recipe on the counter for DH to chef while the kids and I endured the journey to-during-from swim practice (think Hockey Mom here, without the lipstick and much, much more deferential to the other parents).
Shameless plug for one of my go-to cookbooks: Desperation Dinners! by Beverly Mills & Alicia Ross to the rescue. If you don’t have this gem, order it NOW. It’s 20-minute meals for families: you can actually make them in 20 minutes and the kids will eat them.
Pork chops from the freezer, rice and other treats from the pantry, all with an oriental taste. The recipe in its original form calls for fresh mushrooms, which are generally staples in our refrigerator. Not today. DH substituted jarred mushrooms from the pantry, and jasmine rice for the “instant”, confident the “Substitution Queen” (that’s me) wouldn’t relinquish her title for something innocuous as this.
Here’s the back story: Many years ago, when DH and I were merely co-workers, I made three or five or whatever number of types of chili, bringing one to work each day for a while. Can’t remember why, but perhaps a magazine did a feature on chili and I set out to make them all. Anyway, one particularly aromatic batch (made with brewed coffee, an intriguing ingredient) called for a small can of diced chiles. I didn’t have any on hand, but did have a small jar of diced jalapenos, so I substituted. Woah, Baby, was that chili hot and spicy! DH and his pal (no stranger to intense spice, as he was known to eat an inch of wasabi paste straight from his finger) took a good 30 minutes to eat a bowl of this stuff, with tears running down their cheeks, laughing all the way. A day for which I will remain infamous.
ANYWAY,
Today’s meal was fantastic. The rice (cooked separately and added later) was a little squishy (probably should have added it a little later in the process). The house smelled divine when we got home. Don’t let the long list of ingredients intimidate you; you likely have most of them in your pantry or refrigerator already – and the point is to USE them!
One interesting result: there were lots of leftovers. This was NOT because we didn’t eat heartily at the table, but because the recipe was apparently marked for a family our size and a small continent as well.
Oriental Pork Chops
(adapted from Misako's Pork Chops, from Desperation Dinners!)
1 tsp. oil (vegetable or canola)
4 boneless center-cut pork chops (about 3/8” thick, about 1# total)
1 large onion (sliced into rings)
1 can (14.5 oz) broth, Oriental or chicken (we used water)
1 ½ c. “instant” (5-minute) rice (we used 3 c. cooked jasmine rice)
1 can (14.5 oz) stewed tomatoes (we used diced)
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. bottled chopped ginger
¼ tsp. onion powder
¼ tsp. dried basil
¼ tsp. black pepper
¼ tsp. salt (optional)
1 med. bell pepper, red or green (for 1 c. rings) (we left this out)
1 c. mushrooms, sliced (we used jarred)
3 T. cold water
2 T. corn starch
1. Heat the oil (medium heat) in large skillet with lid. Add chops, sauté, turning once, until golden brown on both sides (about 3 min). Remove the chops to a plate for the time being. Peel and slice onions into thin rings, scattering them evenly over the chops as you slice.
2. Add broth, tomatoes, Worcestershire, and ginger, (and rice if you’re using instant), stirring well. Turn the heat to high, cover the skillet, and bring broth to a boil. Measure the garlic powder, onion powder, basil, salt, and black pepper into a small dish. Uncover the skillet and add all of the spices at once, stirring well. Return the chops to the pan.
3. Re-cover the pan and let cook while you seed the bell pepper and slice it into ¼-inch rings. Add the pepper slices and mushrooms to the skillet, distributing them evenly over the chops. Cover again and continue to boil the mixture on high for about 8 minutes, until the chops are just done (no longer pink in the center).
4. Meanwhile, combine the water and cornstarch in a small container that has a lid. Shake well until the lumps disappear, then set aside.
5. When the chops have simmered for 8 minutes, add the rice (if you’re using precooked and haven’t already) and stir well. Allow to heat through (a minute or two). Shake the cornstarch mixture again, and add it to the skillet. Stir constantly until the liquid reaches the desired thickness, 1 or 2 minutes.
6. Spoon out a bed of rice and vegetables onto each serving plate. Top with a pork chop and serve with a smile!
Serves 4 (per the recipe) and a small continent (per our experience).
A note: Our package of pork chops had six in it. Since at least one of our teens is a picky eater, DH kept two of the chops aside after sautéing them and kept them warm in the oven at low heat. They were cooked perfectly by the time everything else was done. Picky Teen 2 had perfectly plain pork chops with perfectly plain rice. Perfect.
Another note: I’m not sure, exactly, how the water/rice ratio worked itself out (but it certainly did!) because I was driving the car, not the stove, during preparation. I suspect the jasmine rice was cooked according to package directions in a separate pan and no additional liquid was added to the pork chop mixture other than the water/cornstarch mixture at the end.
We start out the month of using what we have with an easy dinner. Particularly easy because I didn't have to make it! I left the recipe on the counter for DH to chef while the kids and I endured the journey to-during-from swim practice (think Hockey Mom here, without the lipstick and much, much more deferential to the other parents).
Shameless plug for one of my go-to cookbooks: Desperation Dinners! by Beverly Mills & Alicia Ross to the rescue. If you don’t have this gem, order it NOW. It’s 20-minute meals for families: you can actually make them in 20 minutes and the kids will eat them.
Pork chops from the freezer, rice and other treats from the pantry, all with an oriental taste. The recipe in its original form calls for fresh mushrooms, which are generally staples in our refrigerator. Not today. DH substituted jarred mushrooms from the pantry, and jasmine rice for the “instant”, confident the “Substitution Queen” (that’s me) wouldn’t relinquish her title for something innocuous as this.
Here’s the back story: Many years ago, when DH and I were merely co-workers, I made three or five or whatever number of types of chili, bringing one to work each day for a while. Can’t remember why, but perhaps a magazine did a feature on chili and I set out to make them all. Anyway, one particularly aromatic batch (made with brewed coffee, an intriguing ingredient) called for a small can of diced chiles. I didn’t have any on hand, but did have a small jar of diced jalapenos, so I substituted. Woah, Baby, was that chili hot and spicy! DH and his pal (no stranger to intense spice, as he was known to eat an inch of wasabi paste straight from his finger) took a good 30 minutes to eat a bowl of this stuff, with tears running down their cheeks, laughing all the way. A day for which I will remain infamous.
ANYWAY,
Today’s meal was fantastic. The rice (cooked separately and added later) was a little squishy (probably should have added it a little later in the process). The house smelled divine when we got home. Don’t let the long list of ingredients intimidate you; you likely have most of them in your pantry or refrigerator already – and the point is to USE them!
One interesting result: there were lots of leftovers. This was NOT because we didn’t eat heartily at the table, but because the recipe was apparently marked for a family our size and a small continent as well.
Oriental Pork Chops
(adapted from Misako's Pork Chops, from Desperation Dinners!)
1 tsp. oil (vegetable or canola)
4 boneless center-cut pork chops (about 3/8” thick, about 1# total)
1 large onion (sliced into rings)
1 can (14.5 oz) broth, Oriental or chicken (we used water)
1 ½ c. “instant” (5-minute) rice (we used 3 c. cooked jasmine rice)
1 can (14.5 oz) stewed tomatoes (we used diced)
1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. bottled chopped ginger
¼ tsp. onion powder
¼ tsp. dried basil
¼ tsp. black pepper
¼ tsp. salt (optional)
1 med. bell pepper, red or green (for 1 c. rings) (we left this out)
1 c. mushrooms, sliced (we used jarred)
3 T. cold water
2 T. corn starch
1. Heat the oil (medium heat) in large skillet with lid. Add chops, sauté, turning once, until golden brown on both sides (about 3 min). Remove the chops to a plate for the time being. Peel and slice onions into thin rings, scattering them evenly over the chops as you slice.
2. Add broth, tomatoes, Worcestershire, and ginger, (and rice if you’re using instant), stirring well. Turn the heat to high, cover the skillet, and bring broth to a boil. Measure the garlic powder, onion powder, basil, salt, and black pepper into a small dish. Uncover the skillet and add all of the spices at once, stirring well. Return the chops to the pan.
3. Re-cover the pan and let cook while you seed the bell pepper and slice it into ¼-inch rings. Add the pepper slices and mushrooms to the skillet, distributing them evenly over the chops. Cover again and continue to boil the mixture on high for about 8 minutes, until the chops are just done (no longer pink in the center).
4. Meanwhile, combine the water and cornstarch in a small container that has a lid. Shake well until the lumps disappear, then set aside.
5. When the chops have simmered for 8 minutes, add the rice (if you’re using precooked and haven’t already) and stir well. Allow to heat through (a minute or two). Shake the cornstarch mixture again, and add it to the skillet. Stir constantly until the liquid reaches the desired thickness, 1 or 2 minutes.
6. Spoon out a bed of rice and vegetables onto each serving plate. Top with a pork chop and serve with a smile!
Serves 4 (per the recipe) and a small continent (per our experience).
A note: Our package of pork chops had six in it. Since at least one of our teens is a picky eater, DH kept two of the chops aside after sautéing them and kept them warm in the oven at low heat. They were cooked perfectly by the time everything else was done. Picky Teen 2 had perfectly plain pork chops with perfectly plain rice. Perfect.
Another note: I’m not sure, exactly, how the water/rice ratio worked itself out (but it certainly did!) because I was driving the car, not the stove, during preparation. I suspect the jasmine rice was cooked according to package directions in a separate pan and no additional liquid was added to the pork chop mixture other than the water/cornstarch mixture at the end.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
December 2011: Day One. Defining this Month's Challenge!
After a wonderful November (fast forward to 2011) of daily meditations on significant things for which I’m thankful, and realizing how centering each day’s appreciation was for me, I’ve decided to continue the exercise with a new challenge throughout December.
Sometime in mid-November I settled on a topic (“Holiday Wishes”), then immediately put it out of my mind, preferring to make it a daily, spontaneous exercise and not plan topics ahead. November’s medium, Facebook, is well-suited for such short, spontaneous reflections.
Then this week slammed me right in the face.
Among the many things I’m consistently grateful for is our family’s financial security. Sure, we “do without” a large number of things (to the great consternation of our teenagers), but we still have all that we need and much that we wish for. Our family car quit (quite literally and spectacularly), so we replaced it. We paid cash from our rainy-day fund and purchased a comfortably used one. We eat well (and often!) and maintain a generously-stocked pantry, despite the teens’ frequent insistences of “there’s nothing to eat in this house” (translated: nothing which requires less than a second of preparation). We have comfortable incomes, health insurance, and some savings. We have healthy families, time to volunteer, and disposable funds to be generous with. We work hard, spend thriftily, and eat very, very well. We’re proud of who we are.
We are also very, very fortunate. We speak of it often among ourselves. What we don’t do is share this conversation with others.
I pledge to spend this month on this blog doing just that – with a twist.
Members of our Sunday school class often say any one of us is just one step away from major catastrophe, for the grace of God (and mass transit). Our family understands this. We have plans (and savings) to keep the minor catastrophes from getting us down (aforementioned vehicle difficulties to wit).
Major catastrophe, like the tornado which ripped through a neighboring community last April and destroyed every THING some families had, and a recurrent brain tumor which took the life of a good friend last year, are completely another story.
I digress. I wander. I travel in circles (hence the license plate I want for my new vehicle: 2*PI*R). Forgive me.
This month’s personal challenge is to take a step toward understanding hunger and limited means. It’s a soft challenge, because we don’t have to sacrifice much (I’m holding onto that one for Lent; stay tuned). For many, many reasons (which I’ll attempt to explain over the course of December), I pledge to empty our refrigerator and freezer by the end of the year.
We will begin January fresh in countless ways (although of course I’ll count some as we progress).
That’s it. It’s that simple. A little crazy, and perhaps unnecessary, but there is a lot of history, meaning, and a whole lot of faith tied up in what I hope we’ll learn from this exercise. I'll explain as this month unfolds for us all.
A few clarifications:
We are focusing on using up perishable goods rather than discarding them when our ability to purchase goods outpaces our ability to use them well. We’re emptying the refrigerator and freezer. Our pantry, like our rainy-day fund, serves to augment and enrich, but we won’t be focusing on eliminating our stores completely.
We will NOT throw anything away. We will make the best use of the calories and nutrients (and financial investment) we’ve made in everything at our disposal. If it’s spoiled, it’s compost.
We are not putting ourselves on a grocery diet (at least not at this point: stay tuned for Lent). We’ll buy what we need, and even what we want, as long as the goal (EMPTY fridge/freezer) is met.
We are already frugal, already focused on using what we have well. THIS is a challenge to use even the difficult items (like all those "interesting" condiments), and to find creative ways to work unsuspecting ingredients into the mix.
Until I get a handle on mixed-operating-systems-media, there may/may not be photos on the blog. Check Facebook (be my friend!) for photos; so much easier to shoot with the iPhone and post there.
We are going to be very, very creative. Creative is good. In fact, it’s my favorite survival skill.
Wish us well, and please let us know what you're thinking. Keep us accountable so that what we say = what we do.
Blessed Be.
Sometime in mid-November I settled on a topic (“Holiday Wishes”), then immediately put it out of my mind, preferring to make it a daily, spontaneous exercise and not plan topics ahead. November’s medium, Facebook, is well-suited for such short, spontaneous reflections.
Then this week slammed me right in the face.
Among the many things I’m consistently grateful for is our family’s financial security. Sure, we “do without” a large number of things (to the great consternation of our teenagers), but we still have all that we need and much that we wish for. Our family car quit (quite literally and spectacularly), so we replaced it. We paid cash from our rainy-day fund and purchased a comfortably used one. We eat well (and often!) and maintain a generously-stocked pantry, despite the teens’ frequent insistences of “there’s nothing to eat in this house” (translated: nothing which requires less than a second of preparation). We have comfortable incomes, health insurance, and some savings. We have healthy families, time to volunteer, and disposable funds to be generous with. We work hard, spend thriftily, and eat very, very well. We’re proud of who we are.
We are also very, very fortunate. We speak of it often among ourselves. What we don’t do is share this conversation with others.
I pledge to spend this month on this blog doing just that – with a twist.
Members of our Sunday school class often say any one of us is just one step away from major catastrophe, for the grace of God (and mass transit). Our family understands this. We have plans (and savings) to keep the minor catastrophes from getting us down (aforementioned vehicle difficulties to wit).
Major catastrophe, like the tornado which ripped through a neighboring community last April and destroyed every THING some families had, and a recurrent brain tumor which took the life of a good friend last year, are completely another story.
I digress. I wander. I travel in circles (hence the license plate I want for my new vehicle: 2*PI*R). Forgive me.
This month’s personal challenge is to take a step toward understanding hunger and limited means. It’s a soft challenge, because we don’t have to sacrifice much (I’m holding onto that one for Lent; stay tuned). For many, many reasons (which I’ll attempt to explain over the course of December), I pledge to empty our refrigerator and freezer by the end of the year.
We will begin January fresh in countless ways (although of course I’ll count some as we progress).
That’s it. It’s that simple. A little crazy, and perhaps unnecessary, but there is a lot of history, meaning, and a whole lot of faith tied up in what I hope we’ll learn from this exercise. I'll explain as this month unfolds for us all.
A few clarifications:
We are focusing on using up perishable goods rather than discarding them when our ability to purchase goods outpaces our ability to use them well. We’re emptying the refrigerator and freezer. Our pantry, like our rainy-day fund, serves to augment and enrich, but we won’t be focusing on eliminating our stores completely.
We will NOT throw anything away. We will make the best use of the calories and nutrients (and financial investment) we’ve made in everything at our disposal. If it’s spoiled, it’s compost.
We are not putting ourselves on a grocery diet (at least not at this point: stay tuned for Lent). We’ll buy what we need, and even what we want, as long as the goal (EMPTY fridge/freezer) is met.
We are already frugal, already focused on using what we have well. THIS is a challenge to use even the difficult items (like all those "interesting" condiments), and to find creative ways to work unsuspecting ingredients into the mix.
Until I get a handle on mixed-operating-systems-media, there may/may not be photos on the blog. Check Facebook (be my friend!) for photos; so much easier to shoot with the iPhone and post there.
We are going to be very, very creative. Creative is good. In fact, it’s my favorite survival skill.
Wish us well, and please let us know what you're thinking. Keep us accountable so that what we say = what we do.
Blessed Be.
Friday, January 8, 2010
Potions and Notions
After a year's hiatus, the restart of the calendar year seems like a great time to restart the blog. Look for lots of recipes and cooking chatter (the Potions part) and likely even more quilts and sewing suggestions (the Notions part).
As noted in the last post (yes, a full year ago), I volunteered to edit (in this case, write, assemble, and distribute) the Guild newsletter "Pens and Needles." I think it went well last year outside two computer deaths and issues stemming from subsequent digital recovery. I do think, however, there's room for improvement. I used FAR too much clip-art to fill in the blanks.
One of the new features I decided to add was a column/editorial. I thought "why shouldn't I?" My kids can think of many reasons why I shouldn't, most stemming from their (well-reasoned) fears I'll write about them. They'll likely star in a column at some point, but not just now. Hopefully other Guild members will be moved to write something as well.
Here's the premiere:
Potions and Notions
In January we often think of New Year’s Resolutions. This year, I’ve resolved not to make any, but I do love a good To Do List, particularly one with some serious ambition. So here’s my 2010 To Do List for your entertainment, edification, and perhaps inspiration:
1. Get Some Class. We all have to learn new things to grow, some of us more than others, and perhaps I do more than most. I do a tremendous amount of learning by making mistakes all by myself, yet I find it particularly rewarding when guided through the process in the presence of others, preferably led by one who knows more (or sometimes even less) about the route than I do. To this end, I challenge myself to take a class led by someone else on a technique new to me. Perhaps piecing curves, embellishment, or appliqué, three techniques I haven’t attempted because I don’t even know where to begin. Well, I DO know where to begin: by signing up for class!
2. Get Some Class (Part 2). I believe I master a technique best when, after sufficient practice, I attempt to teach it to someone else. This generally takes the form of a series of mistakes requiring additional fabric purchases and step retracing in a public forum. I have a couple of ideas percolating in my head, several of which are actually in preliminary digital form. The challenge for me is not so much deciding on what to teach the class about, but in finding the appropriate forum. For whom, where, and when will I have the class?
3. 3 x 3 Challenge. In 2009 I entered several of my best quilts into competitions around the area. I went so far as to put aside several commissioned and promised works to design and quilt an original creation. I was successful in several of the quilt and needlework festivals, but failed miserably when I presented my work as Fine Art. In a fit of frustration tinged with far too much anger, I grumbled to my sister that I had I created three abstract works with minimal effort I might have had more success as an “artist”. Her advice was that art does involve setting boundaries, then stepping boldly outside them. To this end, I’ve developed what I’m calling the “3 x 3 Challenge,” a three-quilt series of boundary-busting. I think the first will be a 1’ x 1’ in which I’ll allow myself an hour to complete, the second a 2’ x 2’ (four hours) and the third a 3’ x 3’ (nine hours). Why the exponentially-increasing time limits? I’m such a square!
4. Do My Community Service. At one time I defined my personal philosophy as “Give Back, Give More” without really exploring or explaining it particularly well to others or even to myself. This To Do challenge is to put my money where my mouth is, put the rubber to the road, and incorporate intentional, planned quilting for others. I made two big steps forward when I donated a quilt to a fundraising auction and completed a challenge for a local women's center in 2009. The next step is to give MORE. My thoughts are to organize a “Quilt-In” with others or design and make ornaments as a fundraiser or something along those lines, something that will make a greater impact and involve more than just myself. To Give More.
5. Five-on-the-Fifth Fabric Flings. We all have fabric lying around that we don’t really like and will probably never use. You know what I’m talking about: that fabric you bought 20 years ago and have moved houses with five times. It clutters up sewing rooms, our drawers, and closets. Many more organized (or perhaps less Yankee-frugal?) folks get rid of their fabric by donating it or even (gasp!) throwing it away. I’ve filled a donation bag (mostly with scraps) but can’t ever remember to pass it on. Remembering to do that would be a first step. However, my Freakish Fabric Flock is not moving south but breeding in captivity. So I’ve decided to take a page from the Fly Lady, a motivational housekeeping maven, and alter her “27-Fling-Boogie” to address my cloth clutter. I challenge myself to complete a “Five on the Fifth Fabric Fling” each month. This means that I will cull FIVE pieces of fabric from my stash and place them in my Guild bag for donation. Why five? Well, beyond the obvious favor I have for alliteration, “Five on the Fifth” means I’ll make some headway quickly and I’ll have it done before the Guild meeting, whichever day the second Tuesday falls. Will I run out of fabric to fling? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. My not-so-empty nest is fairly well feathered with fabric. I won’t see the river anytime soon.
So, what’s on your To Do list?
As noted in the last post (yes, a full year ago), I volunteered to edit (in this case, write, assemble, and distribute) the Guild newsletter "Pens and Needles." I think it went well last year outside two computer deaths and issues stemming from subsequent digital recovery. I do think, however, there's room for improvement. I used FAR too much clip-art to fill in the blanks.
One of the new features I decided to add was a column/editorial. I thought "why shouldn't I?" My kids can think of many reasons why I shouldn't, most stemming from their (well-reasoned) fears I'll write about them. They'll likely star in a column at some point, but not just now. Hopefully other Guild members will be moved to write something as well.
Here's the premiere:
Potions and Notions
In January we often think of New Year’s Resolutions. This year, I’ve resolved not to make any, but I do love a good To Do List, particularly one with some serious ambition. So here’s my 2010 To Do List for your entertainment, edification, and perhaps inspiration:
1. Get Some Class. We all have to learn new things to grow, some of us more than others, and perhaps I do more than most. I do a tremendous amount of learning by making mistakes all by myself, yet I find it particularly rewarding when guided through the process in the presence of others, preferably led by one who knows more (or sometimes even less) about the route than I do. To this end, I challenge myself to take a class led by someone else on a technique new to me. Perhaps piecing curves, embellishment, or appliqué, three techniques I haven’t attempted because I don’t even know where to begin. Well, I DO know where to begin: by signing up for class!
2. Get Some Class (Part 2). I believe I master a technique best when, after sufficient practice, I attempt to teach it to someone else. This generally takes the form of a series of mistakes requiring additional fabric purchases and step retracing in a public forum. I have a couple of ideas percolating in my head, several of which are actually in preliminary digital form. The challenge for me is not so much deciding on what to teach the class about, but in finding the appropriate forum. For whom, where, and when will I have the class?
3. 3 x 3 Challenge. In 2009 I entered several of my best quilts into competitions around the area. I went so far as to put aside several commissioned and promised works to design and quilt an original creation. I was successful in several of the quilt and needlework festivals, but failed miserably when I presented my work as Fine Art. In a fit of frustration tinged with far too much anger, I grumbled to my sister that I had I created three abstract works with minimal effort I might have had more success as an “artist”. Her advice was that art does involve setting boundaries, then stepping boldly outside them. To this end, I’ve developed what I’m calling the “3 x 3 Challenge,” a three-quilt series of boundary-busting. I think the first will be a 1’ x 1’ in which I’ll allow myself an hour to complete, the second a 2’ x 2’ (four hours) and the third a 3’ x 3’ (nine hours). Why the exponentially-increasing time limits? I’m such a square!
4. Do My Community Service. At one time I defined my personal philosophy as “Give Back, Give More” without really exploring or explaining it particularly well to others or even to myself. This To Do challenge is to put my money where my mouth is, put the rubber to the road, and incorporate intentional, planned quilting for others. I made two big steps forward when I donated a quilt to a fundraising auction and completed a challenge for a local women's center in 2009. The next step is to give MORE. My thoughts are to organize a “Quilt-In” with others or design and make ornaments as a fundraiser or something along those lines, something that will make a greater impact and involve more than just myself. To Give More.
5. Five-on-the-Fifth Fabric Flings. We all have fabric lying around that we don’t really like and will probably never use. You know what I’m talking about: that fabric you bought 20 years ago and have moved houses with five times. It clutters up sewing rooms, our drawers, and closets. Many more organized (or perhaps less Yankee-frugal?) folks get rid of their fabric by donating it or even (gasp!) throwing it away. I’ve filled a donation bag (mostly with scraps) but can’t ever remember to pass it on. Remembering to do that would be a first step. However, my Freakish Fabric Flock is not moving south but breeding in captivity. So I’ve decided to take a page from the Fly Lady, a motivational housekeeping maven, and alter her “27-Fling-Boogie” to address my cloth clutter. I challenge myself to complete a “Five on the Fifth Fabric Fling” each month. This means that I will cull FIVE pieces of fabric from my stash and place them in my Guild bag for donation. Why five? Well, beyond the obvious favor I have for alliteration, “Five on the Fifth” means I’ll make some headway quickly and I’ll have it done before the Guild meeting, whichever day the second Tuesday falls. Will I run out of fabric to fling? We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. My not-so-empty nest is fairly well feathered with fabric. I won’t see the river anytime soon.
So, what’s on your To Do list?
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Quilt Guild 101
My sister said... "Great! Have fun at the quilt guild meeting. Just don't take too much Show & Tell and don't volunteer for anything."
How many times in my entire life do you think I've listened to my sister? Right. You could count them on one hand, even if a couple of the fingers are missing.
I've wanted to be in a quilt guild as long as I can remember quilting, but have always had too many conflicts. In my prior home, kids were not permitted (even as spectators), and everything I did had to accommodate my toddlers. I tried again when I moved to this area almost three years ago... but always had school conflicts. Not anymore.
I invited myself along to ride with a couple of friends, ladies I've known and hope to know much better. The guild isn't huge, pretentious, or particularly rigid about much of anything. A motley crew of very talented ladies, gents, even kids (C. is eight!). This year's challenge is "Think Green!" That's it - the rest is up to the quilter. Yes, this will be FUN. Creative. Inspiring. Affirming.
I broke with my sister's advice even before leaving home, taking at least five pieces for Show & Tell AND a fist-full of pictures to boot. There WAS a theme, though... stars, stars, stars... I took the first challenge quilt (maybe the only) I ever made, complete with bowed-out sides and dental-floss-like quilting thread, and the one I made this New Year's with the nice ribbon-like pieced stars that stand out like ribbons due to the close stippling I did... and a few from in-between. See How Far I've Come???
I didn't volunteer for anything... until the next day, anyway. Hey... the Guild needed a newsletter editor. How tough could that be? Well... Sis says it's the worst job in the Guild (maybe that's why they needed an editor?!). I don't know; seems like fun to me. I hope the folks of the Guild can handle my attempts at humor.
Did I follow my sister's advice? Well, at least I DID have fun!
How many times in my entire life do you think I've listened to my sister? Right. You could count them on one hand, even if a couple of the fingers are missing.
I've wanted to be in a quilt guild as long as I can remember quilting, but have always had too many conflicts. In my prior home, kids were not permitted (even as spectators), and everything I did had to accommodate my toddlers. I tried again when I moved to this area almost three years ago... but always had school conflicts. Not anymore.
I invited myself along to ride with a couple of friends, ladies I've known and hope to know much better. The guild isn't huge, pretentious, or particularly rigid about much of anything. A motley crew of very talented ladies, gents, even kids (C. is eight!). This year's challenge is "Think Green!" That's it - the rest is up to the quilter. Yes, this will be FUN. Creative. Inspiring. Affirming.
I broke with my sister's advice even before leaving home, taking at least five pieces for Show & Tell AND a fist-full of pictures to boot. There WAS a theme, though... stars, stars, stars... I took the first challenge quilt (maybe the only) I ever made, complete with bowed-out sides and dental-floss-like quilting thread, and the one I made this New Year's with the nice ribbon-like pieced stars that stand out like ribbons due to the close stippling I did... and a few from in-between. See How Far I've Come???
I didn't volunteer for anything... until the next day, anyway. Hey... the Guild needed a newsletter editor. How tough could that be? Well... Sis says it's the worst job in the Guild (maybe that's why they needed an editor?!). I don't know; seems like fun to me. I hope the folks of the Guild can handle my attempts at humor.
Did I follow my sister's advice? Well, at least I DID have fun!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Black Friday Recap
I can’t stand it. Where is the outrage?
There’s plenty of angst and unhappiness this holiday season as we Americans talk about the sacrifices we must make, the things we must go without. We can’t afford the high price of the cheaply-produced electronics our ‘tweens beg for – nor do we treat ourselves to a new automobile this season, produced in part all over the world and hopefully assembled somewhere on our continent. We do honestly believe we intend to be modest this holiday season of extravagance.
Yet… as Black Friday, the 28th of November, 2008 closes… what do we see?
The headlines of my regional paper sum it up precisely. As precisely as we Americans, in our land of plenty, care to think.
Above the paper’s masthead? Date – Place – Time – Station for rivalry football.
The main headline? “Mumbai gunfire rages; 2 Virginians among dead”
The right column headline? “Shoppers scour stores for deals on Black Friday”
Which article did I read first?
Well… I was where papers weren’t delivered on Friday, so I’m catching up after a long weekend with little outside influence. I’ll admit to already knowing the outcome of the football rivalries for the weekend. I’ll also admit to watching headline news during our sausage breakfast on Friday morning, followed by a LONG stretch of CNN trying to figure out what was happening in our world, followed by a WHOLE lot of football. Today it’s Monday, with a family-friend crisis at hand, and I’m digesting papers as we go from snow delay to the hospital to school and back, then home.
I wonder… Which article did you read first?
We, as Americans, have for generations defined ourselves as “not British” and, yet, live some telling British ways. Our forsaken forebears celebrate their Christmas holiday with gifts, a feast, and an afternoon lolling by the fire and the telly (which illuminates more, I’ll leave to you). The Monarch broadcasts her version of the State of the Union in fireside-chat sheep’s clothing. On the next day, Boxing Day, the country is shut down, and perhaps a bit quiet and contemplative. When we girls were there in 1986, we walked the moors around York looking for sustaining peace and field conversation a la James Herriot. We found exactly what we needed in that serene and foggy repose.
Yet… Perhaps… What we really needed in those plentiful 1980’s was a day of free-for-all shopping! For goodness sake – who would plan a holiday without a blank day after to engage in reckless commerce?
That, my friends, is what I fear “Black Friday” has become. Reckless commerce, driven to make ourselves feel SOMETHING, whatever our perceived deficiency might be.
It didn’t surprise me one bit that the headline news carried a sympathetic bit about the two Virginians on pilgrimage who died in Mumbai – and just a few breaths later described the death of a mass-merchandise company’s employee at the feet of shoppers eager for some sort of bargain. Both tragedies,but of very different import.
WHAT are we thinking?
All of these lives were lost in senselessness… and the lack of sense surrounding our now-decreed-successful Black Friday and Cyber Monday supplants it all. I haven’t read far enough to know why these gunners in India decided to kill to make their point, nor do I understand the point they might have tried to make before experiencing their own deaths. I don’t understand, either, why Americans make their point by trampling others to stake their claim on cheap purchases. Neither of these situations seem like reasonable ways to improve ones lot in life.
I honestly believe we get what we pay for, however we might intend or direct.
I am outraged about the things I pay for. I trust you are, too.
There’s plenty of angst and unhappiness this holiday season as we Americans talk about the sacrifices we must make, the things we must go without. We can’t afford the high price of the cheaply-produced electronics our ‘tweens beg for – nor do we treat ourselves to a new automobile this season, produced in part all over the world and hopefully assembled somewhere on our continent. We do honestly believe we intend to be modest this holiday season of extravagance.
Yet… as Black Friday, the 28th of November, 2008 closes… what do we see?
The headlines of my regional paper sum it up precisely. As precisely as we Americans, in our land of plenty, care to think.
Above the paper’s masthead? Date – Place – Time – Station for rivalry football.
The main headline? “Mumbai gunfire rages; 2 Virginians among dead”
The right column headline? “Shoppers scour stores for deals on Black Friday”
Which article did I read first?
Well… I was where papers weren’t delivered on Friday, so I’m catching up after a long weekend with little outside influence. I’ll admit to already knowing the outcome of the football rivalries for the weekend. I’ll also admit to watching headline news during our sausage breakfast on Friday morning, followed by a LONG stretch of CNN trying to figure out what was happening in our world, followed by a WHOLE lot of football. Today it’s Monday, with a family-friend crisis at hand, and I’m digesting papers as we go from snow delay to the hospital to school and back, then home.
I wonder… Which article did you read first?
We, as Americans, have for generations defined ourselves as “not British” and, yet, live some telling British ways. Our forsaken forebears celebrate their Christmas holiday with gifts, a feast, and an afternoon lolling by the fire and the telly (which illuminates more, I’ll leave to you). The Monarch broadcasts her version of the State of the Union in fireside-chat sheep’s clothing. On the next day, Boxing Day, the country is shut down, and perhaps a bit quiet and contemplative. When we girls were there in 1986, we walked the moors around York looking for sustaining peace and field conversation a la James Herriot. We found exactly what we needed in that serene and foggy repose.
Yet… Perhaps… What we really needed in those plentiful 1980’s was a day of free-for-all shopping! For goodness sake – who would plan a holiday without a blank day after to engage in reckless commerce?
That, my friends, is what I fear “Black Friday” has become. Reckless commerce, driven to make ourselves feel SOMETHING, whatever our perceived deficiency might be.
It didn’t surprise me one bit that the headline news carried a sympathetic bit about the two Virginians on pilgrimage who died in Mumbai – and just a few breaths later described the death of a mass-merchandise company’s employee at the feet of shoppers eager for some sort of bargain. Both tragedies,but of very different import.
WHAT are we thinking?
All of these lives were lost in senselessness… and the lack of sense surrounding our now-decreed-successful Black Friday and Cyber Monday supplants it all. I haven’t read far enough to know why these gunners in India decided to kill to make their point, nor do I understand the point they might have tried to make before experiencing their own deaths. I don’t understand, either, why Americans make their point by trampling others to stake their claim on cheap purchases. Neither of these situations seem like reasonable ways to improve ones lot in life.
I honestly believe we get what we pay for, however we might intend or direct.
I am outraged about the things I pay for. I trust you are, too.
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