We drove to The Park for Fathers' Day today, and when we passed Four Corners on our way back from West Yellowstone, I was reminded of my promise to link to some old favorite posts. Specifically I was reminded because I caught a glimpse of Big Sky Premium Meats, site of Humiliation at the meat shop*. Enjoy.
Thanks for your notes regarding the unexpected unemployment last week. We're all doing fine and trying to get through this time of insecurity. The casualty for me at the moment is blogging. I just don't have the mental energy right now. I hope to be back in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, I'm going to come back and post a few links to some posts from the archives. It's always interesting to me what brings people to the blog, and I'll share some of the most popular posts.
Here's to a better summer going forward.
I haven't wanted to blog for a couple of weeks because I just didn't have anything good to say. Emerson was sick and not sleeping, got better, and then got sick again. Anytime the baby isn't sleeping, things don't go well. Today they got way worse.
Chip was laid off.
He had been at the company for almost five years, and he was one of 12 people who lost their jobs today. His being laid off also means that we've lost our childcare for Emerson, since she attended their on-site daycare center. There's the downside of working for a company progressive enough to offer employee childcare: When you're no longer employed there, your child gets thrown to the wolves of whatever's available locally, most of which was so inadequate that the company had to start a childcare center to retain its staff.
I know we'll get through this, but in the meantime, oh, the suckage. The sucktastic suckage.
It used to be really easy to get great pictures of Connery:
He was like the human equivalent of the point and shoot--all I had to do was take a couple of pictures and I could be guaranteed that most of them would be great. Then, of course, we hit the mugging age and all bets were off:
All I have to do is grab the camera to witness him plastering on the world's cheesiest grin. Lately I have been trying to take pictures while he talks so as to avoid the above. Results are mixed:
I think I asked him to say something random, like "pickles and ice cream." Then I tried to catch him unawares and inadvertently ended up getting a sneak preview of Connery, The Teenage Years:
And then I unleashed magic words of joy. "Say, 'Weekend at Nana's!'" I said:
Problem solved.
Jill, one of my residents during my RA days at UM and a Facebook friend, requested some cabbage recipes yesterday, so I thought I'd oblige and share them with a wider audience as well.
The first recipe I thought of when she mentioned cabbage was one of our family favorites: Scalloped Cabbage. We often make it for Thanksgiving and other special occasions, and I personally have made it in at least four states and three countries. It's just that good. If my recollection is correct, the recipe came from a great little Montana cookbook called The Best of Friends.
Scalloped Cabbage
4 c. shredded cabbage
1/4 c. butter
1/4 c. flour
2 c. milk
salt and pepper
nutmeg
3/4 c. shredded cheddar cheese
1 c. fine bread crumbs
1/4 c. melted butter
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Cook the cabbage in boiling water to cover, 7 to 8 minutes. While that is cooking, melt butter and whisk in flour until well blended and bubbly. Remove from heat and add milk. Return to heat and cook, stirring constantly until thickened. Add cheese. Remove from heat and add salt, pepper, and nutmeg to taste. In a separate bowl, combine bread crumbs and melted butter. Combine cheese sauce and drained cabbage in a ceramic baking dish. Top with buttered bread crumbs. Bake for 20 minutes or until bubbly.
The next recipe is a sort of bastardized goulash that turns out great in a crock pot, and the leftovers are just as yummy. We usually serve it over egg noodles, but you could probably try it on rice or even on its own as a stew. It's based on a Woman's Day recipe from 2005.
Hungarian Beef Stew
1 T. butter
1 1/4 lb. lean beef chuck for stew, cut in 3/4-inch cubes
1 lb. carrots, sliced
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
3 c. shredded cabbage
2 c. water (or 1/2 c. red wine and 1 1/2 c. water)
1 can (6 oz.) tomato paste
1 envelope onion-mushroom soup mix
1 T. sweet paprika
1 c. sour cream
Melt butter in a heavy pan and add beef. Brown, but do not cook through. Remove beef from pan and put into crock pot. Add onions to the pan and cook briefly until they are slightly softened. Add onions to crock pot. Deglaze pan with wine/water or just water and pour into crock pot. Add remaining ingredients (except for sour cream) and stir to combine. Cover and cook on low for 8 to 10 hours, or until beef it tender. Turn off cooker and stir in sour cream. Serve immediately.
The final recipe is not one I promised to Jill, but I thought I'd throw it in since neither the scalloped cabbage nor the beef stew are particularly summer-barbecue-friendly. Plus, since I knew her in college, I figured something with ramen would be appropriate. The Chinese Cabbage Salad is a pretty standard dish but is also very tasty and convenient. The recipe calls for half-heads of cabbage, but I often buy bagged coleslaw for ease.
Chinese Cabbage Salad
1/2 head red cabbage, shredded
1/2 head green cabbage, shredded
2 T. slivered almonds, toasted
2 T. sesame seeds, toasted
1 pkg. ramen noodles, broken up, seasoning packet saved out
1/3 c. vegetable oil
1/3 c. cider vinegar
2 T. sugar
1 ramen seasoning packet
Combine cabbage, almonds, sesame seeds, and ramen noodles in a large bowl. In a separate container, mix dressing--oil, vinegar, sugar, and ramen packet. Combine and chill for several hours.
For 11 years, the most tangible reminder that I have of the two years I spent earning my master's degree at Yale has been the monthly bill I get from the Bursar's Office reminding me to pay my student loan. This weekend, all that changed when my parents showed up with my graduation gift.
Behold my new desk, engineered and handcrafted by my father and totally worth the decade-plus wait:
There are many amazing things about this desk: its quarter-sawn oak, its walnut accents, its six layers of finish, its unbelievable quality (especially to me, who owns mostly furniture from IKEA), but what is most amazing is that my dad made this for me based on a picture I found on the Internet. Not plans, mind you, but a picture that I saw of a desk that I liked. He can take a picture and make it into reality, and that, my friends, is just not normal. He already has a master's degree, my dad, but he should get another one for sheer ingenuity.
Please do not fail to notice the lamp:
Lovingly selected by my mother, who is always anxious for me to have proper lighting--so much so that probably half of my home's light fixtures and lamps are gifts from her--the lamp goes perfectly with the desk:
You know, the picture doesn't even begin to do it justice. So consider yourself invited to my office anytime. You can come and have a cup of coffee and see and touch and smell my desk. I know that sounds weird, but once you've done it, you'll understand why I'm offering.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
Edited to add: As my mother is quite correct to note in comments, it's not that the desk took 11 years to make. It's more that it took 10 of those 11 years for me to stop moving every two years, which would indeed make having a desk like this not so much a joy as a burden. Not to mention that they have stored a great deal of my crap over the years and probably did not want to end up with this in their basement.
