I probably spend more time on YouTube and Facebook than I should. Of course the algorithms keep showing me stuff that I like (usually) and some of that content is cooking videos. I click on a lot – even though I don’t always make it to the end.
So last week I found an interesting food site and the very first recipe I clicked on was Spaghetti Pie. Sounded right up my alley so I made it full-screen and after watching the entire video, I went to this guy’s website for the recipe. I didn’t follow it exactly (although I came pretty close) but it was very easy, very quick and very tasty! Heated up is good too.
Here is how I made it:
1 lb whole wheat spaghetti
8 eggs (I used the yummy ones from Ben)
2 cups shredded fontina cheese
1 cup shredded romano peccorino cheese
½ cup half `n half
Lots of pepper
Dash of salt
Shred the cheese and set aside
Cook the pasta but not all the way to al dente
Whip the eggs together with the half `n half, dash of salt and as much pepper as you might like (I love black pepper so I cranked away!)
Add most of the two cheeses (saving some for the topping) and mix up.
Add the almost al dente pasta to the egg/cheese and mix well again.
Heat up a tablespoon of butter along with some olive oil in an oven-proof pan (I used my cast iron) and then put pasta/egg/cheese in, distributing well.
“The Worm Moon is the moon for March and for some it takes its name from the fact that earthworms begin to reappear around this time of year, bringing birds back out to feed. It signals the tail end of Winter and the beginning of regrowth for nature.” Joey Rather, Clarksburg, WV
YA and I went out to the Arboretum on Tuesday night to do a Worm Moon Hike. I’ve never done one of these monthly hikes before but figured that by March, it should be decent enough weather. The website gave scant information so I was a little surprised when we saw some folks putting on snowshoes.
It didn’t seem necessary as we started out along the pond. The path was clear and packed down. Easy peasy. Then we headed into the wooded area and while there were small luminaries, without the ambient night light, it was a little harder to see and in a couple of uphill stretches it was slippery. I was doing OK as I was wearing boots; YA not so much in her tennis shoes. We made it past the slippery spots, continuing in an uphill direction. So far so good.
It was clouding over but at the topmost part of the hike, there was a lovely view of the hazy moon so we stopped for a bit to admire it. then it got rough – downhill. The luminaries didn’t really do a great job of lighting and downhill felt way more treacherous. YA was slipping a bit but catching trees to steady herself. I tried to walk more in the snow than on the path but the snow depth was not consistent at all. In one place, I’d step off the path and sink to almost my knee. In other spots it wasn’t as deep but the ground under the snow wasn’t even so it was tough and not much fun.
Finally at about the 2/3 mark, the snowy hiking trail crossed the road (Three Mile Road) and to our surprise, we discovered that the road back was lit. We both agreed that we would walk the rest of the way on the road, which was completely clear. At that point, like the first 5 minutes of the hike, it was easier to really enjoy the scenery and the beauty of the Arb at night. When we got back to the car YA said “well, I’m guessing that’s not what you expected” and she was right. Next year I’m just doing the road!
My friend in Tucson (actually Green Valley) lives at the end of her cul de sac, right along a canyon. We had walked down a path into the canyon a bit and she pointed out javelina tracks. While I know what a javelina is, I’ve never actually seen one. And I certainly didn’t expect to be walking along a javelina pathway.
Then later that evening as we were sitting in her living room, I looked out the window to see a fairly large javelina walking right past the house, only about 20 feet from my chair. Fascinating. During my trip we actually spied javelinas several times – at the Desert Museum, more near the house and even a troop crossing the street near a park. They look like pigs but Arizonians are quick to tell you that they are peccaries and NOT pigs. I loved seeing them and spent some time looking up javelina facts during the trip.
On our last day, in the zoo gift shop, I found a small plush javelina toy that I thought was cute. My friend insisted that I actually needed a bigger plush toy. When I told her the small one was what I could justify (since clearly I don’t need to be dragging stuffed toys home at my age), she doubled down and said she wanted to purchase it for me. We argued a bit and I eventually gave up.
On the way home I made my first mistake – I gave the toy a name – Henrietta. The mistake meant that when I was packing, I felt funny about stuffing her into my squishable carry-on bag. How would she breathe? I really didn’t even pause before I set her into my purse. When my friend laughed and asked what folks would think, I told her that lots of people needed emotional support animals when they flew. Henrietta would be my emotional support javelina. (I am NOT suggesting that people who have emotional support animals don’t need them!)
Anyway, here is Henrietta going through Security, getting settled on the plane and then at home on my bed.
I will admit this to you all; I’ve had Henrietta for cuddling every night since I got back from Tuscson. I’ve thought about bringing some of my other stuffed toys down from the attic so they can take turns but I’m afraid Henrietta’s feelings will be hurt!
Any strange stuffed toys in your past (or present)?
I’ve discovered a new bakery. Well, technically PJ discovered it for me. And you all know how I love a good bakery.
On Saturday I dropped off some Ben eggs for PJ (Ben to tim to me to PJ… roundabout) as well as an immersion blender from Bill. I love how we built a little community on the trail – that’s a blog for another day.
Anyway, PJ and I talked about the great Mexican food that I had in Tucson and she mentioned that there is a great Mexican panaderia close to her. As I was leaving, she gave me directions and I headed toward it; I found it easily – Don Panchos Bakery on Cesar Chavez. The customer area wasn’t too big but had huge displays on each side filled with an amazing array of goodies. Donuts, cookies, cakes, breads and lots and lots of pastries. Even flan.
I picked out a couple of conchas, which I adore and then when I turned around to the other case, I saw “besos”. It’s two cakes held together by sweet custard and I’ve only encountered them a couple of times during my travels. I quickly added a couple of those to my tub. Pricing was much lower than I expected. In fact, when she gave me the total, I asked her if she had gotten everything. It was all I could do to get out of there without enough pastries to open up my own shop!
It was also all I could do to not eat all the pastries on Saturday afternoon!
Which direction do you head if you want to find a bakery?
We started off this week with rain on Monday. Rain on a snow packed gravel road just makes ice, so there was a lot of phone calls between the township officials. Most of the residents know the county, whom we contract for snow removal and road maintenance, is working on it, but they will sometimes send a note just to make sure we know a certain road is an ice rink. And a few roads are more trouble than others. We all managed and in a few hours they were better.
When I was moving snow last week, I forgot to make a path from the back door of the chicken coop over to the building with the feed. I did that in the rain Monday morning because the chickens needed more feed. And I then went up the driveway and tried to scrape off some ice. I sanded the corners and had to take a moment to be grateful, again, for the things I can do this year that I was not doing a year or six months ago. I picked up and threw a bag of feed on my shoulder and I carried buckets of corn. A year ago, I had the shoulder surgery and couldn’t do any of that. I walked through the snow and I spread out sand; six months ago I was barely able to walk or keep my balance and I certainly would not have been walking on an uneven surface.
Chickens are doing really well, we’re getting somewhere between 18 and 24 eggs per day. Thanks to Tim, I was able to move a few dozen and someone at the college took a few dozen. I think I moved 16 dozen eggs one day.
We still have the two ducks. Plus, some wild ones that come in for corn.
It’s very interesting to us, the pheasants are not afraid of the vehicles; the tractor or the gator or a car and they will just stand there and watch us go by. But I step out of the house 75 yards away and they flee.
I’m not sure if you can consider an inch of snow being ‘March coming in like a lion’, it’s March, it’s going to do whatever it does. There are basketball tournaments and they used to say there was always a snowstorm during tournaments. That doesn’t prove so true anymore, so we’ll just see what it is. But the snow is melting. Even after that freezing rain on Monday, by Monday afternoon a lot of ice had melted on the road. We talk about our long driveway, but most of the time it’s just the first 300 yards from the house that’s a problem. Those are the two corners going uphill to get out of our yard. If you can get around those two corners you can probably make it. The rest of the road is still curvy and uphill, but it’s open and in the sun, and doesn’t usually drift too bad, knock-on wood, famous last words, your mileage may vary, certain weather conditions apply.
When I was a kid, I had a rail sled. Technically, I still have it, it’s hanging in the garage.
When I was a kid I used a rail sled. At some point when I was a kid dad re- did a lot of the driveway so it wouldn’t drift so bad. But prior to that, there was these two corners that had banks on the sides. I would take this rail sled up above the second corner and get a run at it and I could make both corners, come around below the house and ride that sled all the way down to the barn. It was like a luge run! That was the coolest thing ever. My brother talks about it too. But if the road got too slippery, well then we couldn’t get out with the car. (rear wheel drive you know back then) and dad spread manure on the road and that kind of messed up the luge run. Seriously, manure. Why buy salt, we have this and it’s free and it needs to be spread every day anyway. Once it started to melt in the spring mom complained a bit.
Manure spreader designs changed over the years. They used to have multiple beaters in the back and you got a nice even spread. Then they went to a single beater design, and you got a lot more clumps. Designs changed again to go to vertical beaters or side discharge and of course the whole way of farming has changed enough that it all had to change with it. Manure is a good fertilizer and there’s a lot of value to it and it’s taking very seriously nowadays. There’s a lot of recordkeeping involved, and there are only certain conditions under which it can be applied. I’m not up on all the rules anymore, but I’m not sure I would be allowed to surface spread in the winter on a hillside. Runoff and erosion, you know, the farmers take that seriously too.
KTCA, Twin Cities Public Television, used to show “Matinee at the Bijou“ at noon on weekdays and sometimes at lunch when dad and I were in the house we’d watch the movie. I remember seeing a black and white Army movie, all I can remember is this bit: a man jumps out of the back of the army truck and lands in a puddle, and he says to the driver “You couldn’t find a dry spot?” and the driver says, “Man. This is a dry spot!” No idea what movie it was. I’ve tried looking for that quote without luck. Why do I remember that?? It had to be 40 years ago. Anyone know the movie?
These blogs. Some days I just start typing and I don’t know when to stop. Don’t ask me about stage lighting. I forget to breathe when you get me going on stage lighting.
As you all know I love cookbooks. And you all also know that I have too many – neither my wallet nor my shelves can handle my just willy-nilly buying of any and all cookbook that look interesting. But a quick perusal doesn’t cut the mustard either – you need to go though a cookbook thoroughly to know if it earns the right to displace another cookbook on my shelves.
The way I deal with this is to check out prospective cookbooks from the library. Then I can leisurely go through them, look at the recipes, ingredients, level of difficulty, etc. If a lot of recipes look interesting and I can envision cooking from the book, then I have to decide if it’s enough to replace an existing cookbook on my shelves. If there are only a couple of recipes, I copy them and add them to my big binder.
When I was in Tucson, we visited a few places that had cookbooks on display. One was an amazing cooking shop in the arts colony of Tubac. We spent quite a bit of time there as Susan was texting photos of various tea towels to a friend who was in the market. This shop had A LOT of tea towels; it would have been very easy to over-indulge. Wandering through a cooking shop is not a punishment for me and I came across a handful of cookbooks that looked interesting. I took photos and then when I got home I requested them from the library. Three are in transit, so hopefully in the next few days I can relax with some hot tea or cocoa and go through them to my hearts’ content.
How do you decide which books to buy and which to not buy (or borrow)?
We talked last week about traveling companions that are suited to our own style. But we didn’t venture into the dynamics of visiting other folks. Having spent several days with a good friend at her Tucson (technically Green Valley) home in February, I have been thinking about this dynamic quite a bit.
This is the first visit we’ve had together since her husband passed last summer and my first time to their winter home. When he was alive we had a lot of our meals at home. He and I had loving to cook in common so it was an easy part of the visiting routine. My friend doesn’t love cooking so on this trip we ended up eating out most of the time. In fact, prior to my arriving we had talked about having Mexican food every meal.
So I was surprised when she suggested pizza for dinner the first night. Then I found out that she meant a food truck/pizza oven run by two brothers that was almost always parked a few miles from her place – the Family Joint Pizzeria – apparently they have quite a following. You order your pizza then wait in your car (or at some adjoining picnic tables) and they bring it to you when it’s finished. They offer a few bakery items as well and we ate this huge (and delicious) concha while we waited.
I couldn’t pass up the Elote pizza, made with corn and cheese (the top one in the photo)
The other was a more traditional margarita. Both were unbelievably yummy.
Except for two breakfasts that we whipped up at home, we did indeed eat Mexican food for every other meal – and all at smaller, out of the way places that many of my friends might pass up. Lunch south of Tucson near the Tabac community (about 15 miles from the border) that served baby margaritas in jelly jars. We ate hot fry bread from a stand outside the San Xavier de Bac mission, unbelievably scrumptious cauliflower enchiladas at a place called Guadalajara’s and even breakfast at The Little One. We both had Huevos Divorciados – one egg with red sauce, one egg with green sauce (on tortillas) but separated on the plate by rice and beans. It was delightful but the most fun was having chips and salsa for breakfast!
It was a delightful surprise to have all these culinary adventures when previous visits hadn’t been as… exotic shall we say.
Tell me about a hole-in-the-wall place you’ve enjoyed>
I made a mistake over the weekend. I accidentally clicked on a YouTube of a couple building a tiny house from the ground up. I didn’t watch the whole thing but it was enough for cyberspace to jump on it. This morning my YouTube feed is filled with tiny house videos. They have not completely supplanted my usual card-making, dogs, Harry/Meghan (proverbial train wreck) videos, but there are A LOT of tiny house stuff. Sigh. I know that if I don’t open any more, they will eventually fade away but it’s a little irritating that cyberspace is so completely curating my online experience.
Then yesterday I opened up YouTube on my work laptop to look for a band for a client. The feed was nothing like my home feed and had a preponderant amount of “relaxing music” videos. This didn’t surprise me at first because my main use of YouTube at work has always been background soothing, relaxing music. When I started to think about it, I wondered how YouTube knew this… after all, this laptop is not the laptop I had before I retired. And I haven’t logged onto YouTube using a work address since August. So how did YouTube know, without my even asking, that relaxing music is likely to be what I want? This is just a hypothetical question – I’m sure I wouldn’t understand a real answer about the algorithms used by YT, FB, etc. But it is a little eerie and does make me wonder what my feed would look like if I searched for other random items every few days?
Do you care enough about anything to follow it in cyberspace?
On Saturday I went to the Celebration of Life for my oldest friend, Deana. She wasn’t my oldest friend in terms of age but in terms of longevity; there are folks that I have known longer but they fall into the acquaintance category. I met Deana in 1977 and we were fast friends from the beginning.
When she met my then-boyfriend, she used to refer to him as “the Greg Person” which eventually became “the GP”. Once we got married, if Greg picked up the phone receiver and then after a few seconds of silence, he would hand the phone to me saying “it’s Deana”. She always said she was so surprised when a man answered the phone that she was temporarily speechless.
At one point I took a cake decorating class from a visiting artist and one of the things we made were pink elephants sitting in champagne glasses. Deana adored these elephants and when her youngest got married, she had me make a groom’s cake covered with pink elephants and tipped over champagne glasses. It was hysterical.
Deana loved to travel – all her traveling involved throwing her bags and various children/grandchildren/great grandchildren into her big van and heading off down the road. She even included YA once when YA was about 10. That trip went to South Carolina and Florida.
She never wanted to retire – she always said she would work until the last minute. After leaving the food industry, she ended up at a support and housing organization for the intellectually disabled, a place where she worked for close to 40 years. She also worked at the local grocery store, managing the floral station.
Once when I visited I discovered all my Ukrainian eggs along with some shiny holiday ornaments hanging from the ceiling in the front room. She said it was too dangerous to have a tree up that year with her youngest having just learned to stand and walk but she didn’t want to entirely forego her ornaments.
I wouldn’t call her a hippy but she did love bright colors, especially tie-dye. She actually told folks before her death that she wanted people to come to her service in vibrant colors – no black or gray or, heaven forbid, navy blue.
Deana was a collector of people. If you wandered into her orbit, her gravity would grab you and never let go. She was very close to all of her family as well as those she considered family. The house was always full of kids and grandkids. If you needed a hand, Deana would be there to offer help.
At the service we sang one of her favorite songs, Puff the Magic Dragon. Normally a tear jerker for me but considering that Deana is gone, it was particularly poignant. And as always, I did not come prepared with enough tissues.
While I was in Green Valley, I hit my 1,000-day streak with my Italian lessons on Duolingo. I can’t think of anything I’ve ever done 1,000 days in a row, except for being a parent and breathing in/out all day!
I spend more time on my Italian these days than when I started. You’d think that 1,000 days would make me fluent but when it’s only 15-20 minutes a day, that won’t quite do it. I can read a fair amount of Italian at this point and if an Italian person spoke to me VERY slowly and didn’t get too complicated, I could understand. My accent is OK but speaking is my least proficient area – I’m still a bit slow on the uptake when trying to put sentences together.
The chance that I’ll ever actually get to use my Italian proficiency is pretty slim; not sure I’ll be getting to Italy again in my lifetime, but I figure I’ll keep it up as long as I’m still enjoying it.
What would you be willing to do for 1,000 days straight?
Trail Baboon 