Monthly Archives: July 2012
I’m a sports fan, and unapologetically so. I love it all, and provided Boston is playing (or someone — anyone really — is beating the Yankees), I will happily sit in front of the tube for hours while working my way through a handy pack, watching baseball, football, basketball or hockey and turning the air blue with a filthy stream of invective and smack talk. In truth, I’ve even been known to take in the final rounds of golf tournaments, various college sports and the odd tennis match. I do have some standards, and as such I draw the line at bowling (it’s the shoes) and NASCAR (it’s just, I don’t know… everything).
This year, however, owing to some pressing personal commitments I haven’t really been following the Olympics. Just not that into it somehow. I missed the opening ceremonies and the unfortunate American athletes in their Pepé Le Pew costumes. I missed Sir Paul whipping the crowd into a nostalgic frenzy. I missed the Queen with her silly pink hat and her mean mouth.
But Sunday after dragging my ass to the gym, I finally got the Olympic bug while slogging along on the elliptical, and here’s why:
Horses prancing sideways, top hats, formal dress and a big group of people who actually got ponies for their fourth birthdays! And it appears it’s all taking place at Downtown Abbey! I cannot get enough of the equestrian events.
I am totally hooked. Or hoofed, perhaps. I can’t wait ’til the rodeo part gets underway — no one beats the US of A in roping and barrel riding.
Whaddya mean there’s no rodeo competition? No clowns? No bulls either? Not even a lasso contest? What a gyp.
Mr. Slattern snapped this photo of a bumper sticker during a recent trip to Maine. I thought I’d share it with you just in case you were wondering why I drink…
How to choose fresh fish, avoid bad clams and triumph at the lobster pound by choosing the smaller, softer crustacean
Apparently lobster prices in Maine are at an all-time low. That’s very rough for all the hardworking lobstermen and women in my home state, and if you don’t think lobstering is tough work, think again. Imagine being out on the water in freezing weather (every month of the year but July) on an open boat deck, wearing rubber overalls while handling bait and pulling traps up from the bottom of the bay to earn your living. It’s cold, it’s backbreaking, it’s dirty and it’s dangerous.
Whatever the price, if we don’t buy lobsters, the lobsterman’s labor is all for naught. So as we approach the season of my most favorite of all seafood, the soft shell lobster (or shedder), I thought you might profit by taking a gander at my seminal look at seafood, Avoid the Bad Clam, originally posted in October of last year. It contains many handy tips on choosing seafood to prepare at home and an invaluable guide to successfully navigating the lobster pound. Here you go:
It has been pointed out to me on more than one occasion that the Kitchen Slattern has begun to look a bit rough. The site, I mean, though given the steel cage death match I am currently involved in with our recalcitrant contractor, I suspect that if I dared gaze in the mirror, I would conclude the same could be said of me — provided of course I could get a good look before it shattered. In any case, I decided to clean up my virtual closet as it were, et voila, the new improved, streamlined slattern.
New wrapper, same old box of crazy.
“I cook to inspire my husband to pay attention to me.”
– Sonia Rumzi, Simple Conversation
As the quote above comes from a work of fiction, I am relieved to report it was never (to my knowledge) uttered by a real human being, though the fact that an author would even think it up is disturbing enough that it gave me pause.
I stumbled upon this little gem as I was trolling for snappy food and cooking quotes and was intrigued enough to look up the book, which apparently involves online dating, food and a woman so fascinatingly tragic she merits primary character status in a published work of fiction. It was reviewed by one reader as follows:
The characters I found humerus and charming.
Hmm, perhaps I’ll give this one a miss.
I do however, find the quote sufficiently alarming to issue the following warning: Ladies, if your husband isn’t paying attention to you (and you find that you give a shit), do NOT, under any circumstances, attempt to get his attention with a well prepared meal. This gives rise to unrealistic expectations and sets a dangerous marital precedent. Instead get a bikini wax, put on some lipstick and a pair of heels and give him another chance. Failing that, grab the Doritos and shoot out the TV. If he’s still tuned out, trade up. I hear this guy may be available, and apparently he’s more interested in drinks than dinner. Perfect!