SPAM!

For some reason Mary and I were talking about spam. Probably because the spam blocker on my email has a "spam of the day" recipe. Unfortunately, they are pretty bad recipes and they recycle often - there are probably only about six or seven different recipes - but it's fun to mock them and it brings us together. What can I say.

Just to scare you, you can google many recipes for spam sushi, among others, and lots has been written about the peoples of the world who favor the taste of spam for reasons I will not divulge here. Spam was never a regular at our house. Either it was too expensive or my dad did not like it - seemingly the most common reasons food was or was not purchased by my family. But once in awhile we got to have a taste of it, and Chris often had a spam sandwich in her school lunch. IMHO, spam is nearly inedible unless heated in a skillet or, better, over a charcoal grill or campfire.

Years and years ago, I went camping with Chris and her dad. I think one of her younger sisters came too. It was the most amazing camping trip I've ever been on. Understand that we went camping every summer as a family from the time I was a toddler until I was almost through high school. Dad brought everything including the kitchen sink. A veteran scoutmaster, he was skilled at turning a campsite into a three bedroom suite complete with kitchen, dining room, lounge, and all without electricity or an RV.

On the trip with Chris, we brought next to nothing. A tent for the girls to sleep in, a little grill to put over the fire to cook on, a large spoon, fork, knife and can opener. Instead of a giant cooler and cabinets full of food, Chris' dad brought a grocery bag of goodies. He was amazing. He urged us to drink a whole can of Hi-C right off the bat so we would have a large "pot" to cook in and, later, to wash up the few utensils.

He placed an open can of Dinty Moore beef stew right on the fire grate to heat up, configuring an ingenious method of turning the hot can with the tongs and serving up with the big spoon. Did I mention there were potato chips and Hydrox cookies, delicacies unknown in my world? I told you everything was better at Chris' house.

Chris' dad slept in the car. To stay cool and keep out the bugs, he rigged some kind of mosquito netting into the windows and slept on the back seat of the station wagon (everyone we knew drove a station wagon in the 1960s. That was the law, I guess).

For breakfast the next morning, we had grilled spam sandwiches. The spam was sliced and laid on the grill to brown. Hot dog buns were set there too, to toast. We spread them with mustard and ate them just like that. The most succulent breakfast I ever had the pleasure of eating.

I thought Chris' dad was awesome, and I was floored that he was able to camp, have a great time and get everything done with the barest minimum of fuss, equipment and (need I mention) clean up! It was only years later, when I mentioned this trip-of-a-lifetime to Chris, that she exclaimed that it was the most horrible trip ever because her dad forgot to bring any of the camping gear.

Once again I was stunned. But I learned that not only beauty, but most things, are truly in the eye of the beholder!

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Know It's The Obvious Choice, But This Was All I Could Find

"Shut up! Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam." Monty Python's Flying Circus - the Spam Skit

Autumn Annual

Last year around this time we went to the Hesston Steam Museum, as we do every year, to ride the steam trains and enjoy the fall weather (there was none) the apple cider (there was none) and Joe Jackson's Fruit Stand (there was none).

The weather was in the 80s. Not bad in and of itself but not appropriate for a "crisp, fall day".

The cider shed was closed. It was closed the year before, too. There are other places to get cider but unfortunately the only cider you can get around here has been pasteurized AND costs about $5 a half gallon.

The cider shed presses the cider on the spot, charges $2.50 a gallon (maybe it's $3) and the cider is guaranteed to get "hard" in a couple days. Anybody who knows their cider knows that that's the whole point.

Joe Jackson's moved sometime in the past couple years. On the old site they are building a condo development called "The Cornerstone". Joe Jackson's was the farm market in New Buffalo, MI, that carried produce from local farmers. Apples, melons, squash, onions, potatoes, just about anything you could want. Louise was good for at least an hour, comparing the relative merits of carnival squash against delicata, ambercup against acorn, and did she need three bags of apples or four?

That's all in the past. The new Joe Jackson's is just not the same. It's farther up the road, well away from traffic and the parking lot has lost its chaotic dodge-em-cars charm.

We go to Hesston every year at this time. Several years ago we celebrated our 25th anniversary there with train rides, stops at the apple barn and the sausage shop, and dinner at Hannah's in New Buffalo. It was a great party.

Last year, only Bill's folks made the trip to join us. What the party lacked in numbers it made up for in grim humor. We rode the "ghost train" and took delight in making sure the wussy kids in our car were genuinely scared by the lame witches, ghosts, goblins and silly "scary" story told by the conductor as we chugged along.

But the creepy guy with the chain saw - - - THAT scared the kids, even the ones that were too big and too cool to be scared by ghost stories. I guess there's something about crackly autumn leaves and the smell of burning coal, the chug, smoke and hiss of a vintage steam locomotive, that really sets the mood for an insane lumberjack to emerge from an abandoned sawmill, chain saw growling, as he rushes at the passing train. I think some of the littler kids had to change their costumes before trick-or-treat.

We did not make it to Hesston this year. Beth asked me about it. Our friends were not able to go and Bill and I did not have the heart to go alone. As more of the "attractions" disappear, the disappointment increases. Maybe we'll have to find a new autumn destination - or maybe a year off will put new allure into the outing. We'll let you know next year whether we resume the annual tradition. Maybe you can join us.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Well That's The Way I Remember It!

"It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life." P.D. James

Gettin' Plastered

Writing about the paper dolls reminded me of something from Kindergarten, or possibly first grade - the plaster birthday cake.

Can you imagine anything more torturous to a five or six year old than a beautiful birthday cake, iced in white frosting and decorated with sugar roses, and completely inedible?

At school, this cake was brought out to celebrate each birthday. There was one of those birthday candles in the shape of a number 5 or number 6, depending on the birthday child's age, stuck in a hole in the top of the cake. The candle was lit and the class sang happy birthday to the lucky celebrant. All those eager young eyes gazed at the sugar white frosting, the pastel tinted icing roses, the burning candle, as they anticipated the deliciousness of birthday cake.

The birthday child took a deep breath and blew out the candle. Now was the time when the cake would normally be cut. But no, the candle was removed and allowed to cool and the cake, that beautiful, sumptuous looking cake, was slid back into the cupboard to wait for the next birthday.

Unfortunately, they did not wrap the cake with tissue or anything and eventually, it became encrusted with dust. But to the eyes of a five-going-on-six year old it always appeared magically delicious.

Years later my sis made an awesome assemblage (that's artist talk for a sort of sculpture). It consisted of a doll house, the attic ceiling painted blue, with clouds to resemble the sky. Inexplicably, a plane was flying through the attic.

In one of the downstairs rooms (the dining room, no doubt) was a circle of little girl figures, cast in plaster, sitting in chairs and wearing party dresses. The circle of plaster girls surrounded one of those magical plaster birthday cakes, complete with plaster icing roses and a few unexplained finger prints, as though some disbelieving six year old boy had attempted, a little too aggressively, to taste the icing.

The cake was monstrously large in proportion to the party girls. In fact, it filled the room floor to ceiling. The piece evoked the childish wonder inherent in all birthday and other celebrations - the eager anticipation, the feverish excitement of reality, and even the disappointing letdown when the event did not quite live up to its initial promise. In all, a remarkable and inspired work of art.

Imagine my delight when my sis bequeathed this wonderful childhood reminder to me. Now I can have my cake and . . . not . . . eat it . . . just like in the old days.

Quotable Quotes; in the category Enough Is As Good As A Feast.

"All the world is birthday cake, so take a piece, but not too much."
George Harrison

I'll Trade You Two Whistlers For A Piccaso

I have a knack for getting into trends only after they are passe.

I recently heard about Artist Trading Cards. If you remember baseball cards as a kid you have a good idea what these are. They are cards the same size as baseball cards only they are created by artists. As near as I can figure out, it seems way, way back in the late 1990s someone made a bunch of these cards and gave them away. Other artists got in on the trend and the only stipulation was that the cards be given or traded, never sold.

As was inevitable the cards moved from the realm of art to the area of scrapbookers and rubber stampers. Which is not to say the cards aren't still lovely little things to have, they have just evolved from what they were.
I discovered them through some random google search and decided to try making some. The results were not bad so I decided to see if I could get in on a "swap".

Groups would host swaps sometimes as part of a quilter's convention or some other auxilliary activity. Artists or crafters would bring a supply of their cards, often linked by a theme, and trade them for other cards. There are on-line swaps where the crafter must send their supply of cards (enough to swap and one for the "pot") before the swap deadline. The swap organizer would then randomly sort the cards and everyone would get back a selection of cards from the other artists.

It seemed the cards were hotter than Matchbox cars and that crafters and artists everywhere were creating and collecting them. I decided I had to get into a swap but first I had to find one and then I had to make my cards.
Cards are made by several methods including rubber stamping, collage, paint and just about any other technique. Some are even made by computerized graphics. Cards can be made individually or a whole sheet of paper can be made into one design and then cut apart into the individual cards.

I found a swap organized by a beading shop not far from me. It was handled by mail. As directed I made my selection of cards - enough for the swap and one for the shop - based on the theme announced on the web site. I didn't cheat. I even tossed the "not good enough" cards and made extras that were up to my standards.

I sent off my cards as directed in the appropriate sized envelope with sufficient postage and a postage paid self addressed envelope enclosed. And I waited. I waited. Waited.

I never got my cards. I called the shop and was told they had never received them. I did check the web site a few times to see if any of my cards appeared in the postings but I never saw them.

That was my first and only attempt to swap them. Too bad because I made enough cards, according the the posted themes, for the next few monthly swaps as well. But I couldn't bring myself to send them. That's a lot of postage to let your precious works of art disappear into post office oblivion.

So I kept the cards and showed them to a few people. The best one, Turkey Girl, I gave to my sister. She loved it, of course, as I knew she would.

Maybe I'll make some more cards some day. They are fairly easy and quite a bit of fun. But I don't think I'll try swapping them unless I find a live swap, which isn't likely since nobody seems to be doing the swaps anymore. They seem to have faded away. Too bad. From the examples I have seen on the web sites, I would really like to have a collection of these cards, just for fun.

If you are reading this and would like to swap cards with me let me know. Maybe we can work something out. In the meantime, google Artist Trading Cards and marvel at the images.

Quotable Quotes; in the category I Don't Know Much About Art But . . .

"I've never believed in God, but I believe in Picasso."
Diego Rivera

Say It's Only A Paper Doll!

When I was a kid we played with paper dolls. Didn't everybody? The kind we liked best were the kind you could buy at Kresge's. They probably cost less than a dollar or we wouldn't have been able to buy them. They were on the same rack as the coloring books. Whitman made those coloring books. They probably made the paper dolls too. I think the Little Golden Books were on the same rack.

The paper dolls were the punch out kind. I think you had to cut the clothes out with scissors, though. The clothes had those obnoxious tabs all around, the dolls had a half-moon thing that you had to insert into the feet to make the dolls stand up. The deluxe models even had a pocket in the back of the book to stick all the clothes so they wouldn't get lost. Right.

In Kindergarten and possibly first grade, there was a very high tech "paper" doll that had a velour surface. Her clothes were felt and would just stick to her without tabs. I think there was a wooden "paper" doll too. her clothes were like folded cards, joined at the shoulder, and slipped over her head. Look, Ma! No tabs! Those dolls were awesome.

I also liked the paper dolls that were published by Dover. Jackie Onassis paper dolls, Marilyn Monroe paper dolls, Princess Di paper dolls. Complete with replicas of famous clothing by Oleg Cassini and other designers. Awesome.

I went over to Chris's house to play sometimes. Playing at her house was like going to Disney World (I've never been to an amusement park, not even Edgewater in Detroit. I don't think Bob-lo Island counts). She had books that did not exist in my world - An Old Fashioned Girl by Louisa May Alcott. Ballet Shoes by Noel Streatfield. Her dad painted pictures and these were stacked up against the walls in the basement. She played different games than we did in my neighborhood.

One day, Chris said we could play with her paper dolls. Fine, I love paper dolls. But I had never seen paper dolls like these. They didn't come from any book or any store. Chris and her sisters drew them themselves. These were charming dolls, hand drawn and hand tinted with colored pencils. Rosy cheeks, rosebud lips, flirtatious eyes, hair bows and clothes drawn on (no tabs). Chris and her sisters drew dolls in nightgowns, dolls in school clothes, dolls in play clothes, dolls in their Sunday best.

Then Chris showed me her doll house. Imagine if you will a Montgomery Ward catalog. Flip to the furniture section - beds, sofas, tables and chairs, desks, etc. Imagine a slit cut in each page. On the beds, a slit under the pillows. On the sofas and chairs, a slit where the seat joins the back. Chris would slip the paper doll into the slit and voila! Paper doll in bed; paper doll sitting in a chair; paper doll working at a desk. I was intrigued and amazed, as I was at just about anything Chris did.

Chris's mom's cookies were better than ours. Her school lunches were better than ours. Her bedroom was better than ours. Her books and even her paper dolls were betters than ours. Was I jealous? I was not! I went home and immediately tried to create exact replicas of Chris's paper dolls. Did I succeed? I did not!

I contented myself with my crummy 79 cent Whitman paper dolls and my "Portrait of Skipper" story book. Cuz I knew that next time I went over to Chris's house, I would get to see her awesome paper dolls again, and all her other awesome stuff. Life is good sometimes.

Quotable Quotes; in the category What She Said . . .

"I enjoy getting dressed as a Barbie doll."
Vanna White

My Favorite Vegetables

I love to do green beans this way. I don't recall where I first found the recipe but as is usual I added the things I like, omitted the things I don't, and changed the rest. Now, it's mine.

I like to do most vegetables this way - green beans, asparagus, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, just about any green (or cabbage-y) veg.

The first time I tried this recipe it was with a bunch of purple colored beans I had bought at the Farmer's Market. Remarkably, the beans turned bright green as they cooked. Could these be Jack's magic beans from the fairy tale?

Try these. I bet you'll like them.

Green Beans
(or asparagus, cauliflower, broccoli, etc).
minced garlic - a clove or two
crushed red pepper flakes - shake some into the pan
coarse salt and freshly ground black pepper
olive oil
Optional - hazel nuts, walnuts, pecans or pine nuts (the original recipe called for pine nuts and I found another that called for hazel nuts with walnuts as a substitute. I only use the nuts if it's green beans).

Usually, I just put everything in a skillet just big enough to hold it all, drizzle the oil over and let it sit there until I'm ready to start cooking. I get it ready in advance, have a martini or six, and then I just have to turn on the stove and watch the house burn down. No muss, no fuss.

Or you can heat the oil in a small skillet, add the garlic and red pepper flakes, being careful not to let them burn. Add the beans (or other veg) and saute over medium-high heat until the veg starts to brown and carmelize and become nicely glazed with the oil. Add the nuts about this time and stir and toss just until they toast - don't let them burn. Finish with salt and pepper to taste and serve hot.

When I'm doing Brussels sprouts I usually cut them in half so they cook through. I like it when the veg get really brown, even scorched in spots. For tougher veg like the sprouts, broccoli or cauliflower I might add a little water to the pan to help them steam and cook through.

These are delish. Enjoy them often. And for a real treat, do the beans with slivered almonds and serve alongside a pair of rainbow trout, dredged with seasoned flour and cooked in butter until done. Mmmmm.

Quotable Quotes; in the category You Must Remember This!

"It doesn't take much to see that the problems of three little people don't add up to a hill of beans in this crazy world."

from the film Casablanca

More Salad

Ann read the post about the grape tomato salad and gave me a "recipe" for another one. I love how something simple using two, maybe three ingredients and only common sense to prepare can be called a "recipe" but there you go.

This one uses bocconcini (those tiny little balls of mozzarella cheese) grape tomatoes and pesto. Make the pesto if you want or just buy a jar of it at the store.

Combine approximately equal amounts of the grape tomatoes and the bocconcini. Use cherry tomatoes if that's what you have and cut the tomatoes in half if you wish.

Dress with a goodly amount of the pesto, toss and pop this in the fridge. You want the flavors to meld so everything will be yummy and tasty.

This is one of those dishes that I love to take to a fancy potluck dinner or party. Everybody thinks you worked for hours to make it, or else that you spent gobs of money to buy it at one of those gourmet take out places. In reality, it could not be easier and is not too expensive (like the shrubbery in the movie Monty Python and the Holy Grail). There, I've given you something to think about while you slice your tomatoes and toss the salad.

Quotable Quotes; in the category How Do You Make That Again?

"Recipe: A series of step-by-step instructions for preparing with ingredients you forgot to buy, using utensils you don't own, to make a dish even the dog won't eat." Author unknown