Category Archives: Words to live by

What’s more important than food? BASEBALL!

Courtesy and Miss Alex Rodriguez.

We interrupt this blog to bring you a special program in observance of this, the most anticipated day of the winter of 2011-12. That’s right folks, the trucks have rolled into Ft. Meyers, and pitchers and catchers report today. In just four days, the rest of the party arrives and we can once again look forward to Yankee ass-kicking, Sweet Caroline and Fenway franks, just the way you like ’em — steamed in dirty water and slathered with Gulden’s mustard. After last season’s epic flameout, the crashing disappointment of the Superbowl and with the Celts struggling to stay at .500, we could use a reason to be cheerful. Let’s hope Bobby V is it.

Say it with me people. “Yankees suck.” Feels good, doesn’t it?

And so another season begins.

I am NOT a foodie

Hi Everybody. My name is K. Nice to be here. Well, not really. See, I don’t have a food problem. It’s just that one of my blog buddies, The Byronic Man, recently referred to me as a foodie, and it got me thinking about how I’m perceived by others, so I decided to drop by, you know, just to check out a meeting.

In fact, high end cooking is not what I do. I’m more of a slap-it-on-the-table-so-I-can-get-back-to-cocktail-hour kind of cook. Food is just a blip on my screen. Really. I can stop anytime I want.

Secret Treasure Loaf* courtesy McGann's Big Game

And by the way I know what you’re doing with Ritz crackers and Cheez Wiz on the table there. I see the green bean casserole. What’s that meatloaf thing? Secret treasure loaf* — never heard of it. I could eat those. If I wanted to. And that Semi-Homemade video playing on an endless loop in the corner? That doesn’t bother me one stinking bit. See? I’m looking at it right…OH MY GOD tell me she didn’t just dredge those chicken cutlets in Knorr leek soup powder before she fried them!

I’m OK, I’m OK. I just need to sit down for a minute. Can I have a glass of water, please? Thank you. Is this from the tap? You don’t have sparkling by any chance?

What’s that you said? I’m not doing anything, just straightening the cocktail napkins and making sure the folds are all on the same side. No, that’s not OCD, it’s just good manners. If you don’t believe me, just ask M….Nothing, I didn’t say anything. I certainly was NOT going to invoke Martha. I hardly know who she is — if she hadn’t gone to jail, I bet I wouldn’t even have recognized the name.

See? Crafting only.

Hey! Get your mitts out of my bag. That’s not MY Martha Stewart Living. I’m just holding it for a friend. There were two copies at the gym this morning, you know how it is. No, that is not my name on the mailing label. That’s…my mom. Well I expect she’s trying to firm up a bit too, or maybe she was just looking for me in the spin room one day. Ever think of THAT? Oh alright, but I just read it for the crafts.

Blog? Yes, I write a blog, but it’s primarily a humor blog, you see, not a cooking one. My persona is just a foil, an avatar, you know an excuse to make a joke. I am in no way serious about food. Look it up on your iPad, there Mr. C, I urged people to use pie crust mix! No self respecting foodie would do that.

Pardon, Mr. C?  Béchamel? I may have mentioned it once or twice. In passing. Oh c’mon man. Recommending that people make béchamel instead of opening a can of cream of mushroom soup hardly rises to the level of obsession. That’s a healthy eating suggestion, like lowering your sodium or using free range chickens instead of Purdue, both of which recommendations I am proud to say I’ve made. What I’m really providing is a public service. Promoting health, you dig? Sure I know the difference between white and black truffles, and I have even been known to shop at Fairway. But I buy Cheerios and little mini quiches there just like everyone else.

I glove you. courtesy

You understand, it’s mostly that I just detest the term foodie. You know how Baby Jane felt about Blanche, or Varitek feels about A-Rod (or how I do for that matter)?  The term “foodie” is juvenile and implies a pretentious mania, and while I admit I do occasionally  dangle a toe into the mania pond (mostly at the dipso- end), I am in no way obsessed with food.

What’s that you say? Nadia G? You wouldn’t. Oh my God, no, not that. Please, I just can’t. I can’t bear it. I’ll do anything, just don’t start that video. I AM BEGGING YOU.

Thank you. Really, I couldn’t have stood it. What’s that Mr. B?  Oh I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I guess I should start again.

Hi Everybody. My name is K and I am a foodie.

Can’t we at least find another name for it?

* Secret Treasure Loaf: A loaf of ground Spam cubes with a Velveeta cheese center topped with a layer of hot Velveeta. Really.

Hey folks, As you’ve no doubt noticed, this post was Freshly Pressed. As this is my first go round with the process, please forgive me if I don’t answer each and every comment. I am most grateful for your presence and will try to visit you as soon as I get my thumb out of my mouth and dig out from under this mountain of attention. Many thanks again to The Byronic Man, for irking inspiring me to write this. At the risk of losing your custom to his far superior blog, let me urge you to take a peek at his oeuvre. As oeuvres go, it’s mighty impressive. 

Fear and loathing at the Fairway


Dear Fairway,

I’m writing today to clarify certain events leading up to the recent unfortunate situation in your Red Hook store involving myself, the assistant manager, six grocery carts, some allegedly stolen beer and my car. First, I’d like to assure you that my personal liability umbrella policy is up-to-date and all damage to your property and medical expenses incurred by your staff will be covered. This is, however, in no way an admission of guilt. I maintain I was provoked, even driven to despair, in the hours leading up to the “incident” in the parking lot, and in the interest of avoiding further such problems would like to explain. I know I am not alone in my feelings about your store.

Let me begin by saying that the converted warehouse by the water is a lovely location, and at first glance a beautiful, inviting store. Your merchandising scheme, however, appears to have been hatched by a bunch of fun house planners in collaboration with inmates of a state mental hospital who have been off their meds for some little time. For example, there are spices in at least four locations, and I can only assume there may be more. By the time I get to display number three on any given trip I’ve forgotten whether I need cumin or coriander, not to mention where I am and the correct spelling of my own name.

Read the rest of this entry

We don’t need no stinking Superbowl

Not with a double VBA to keep me warm!

Apparently it’s awards season in the blogosphere. How else to explain the accolades that of late have come my way with nary a whiff of payola in the air. OK, I may have sent the odd gift basket or tin of fudge, but that’s really the extent of it, unless of course you count that one night in Biloxi….No, that definitely doesn’t count as bribery. Entrapment, perhaps, but not bribery.

In any case, two of my new blog amies, the lovely and talented Vickie from Jumping in Mud Puddles and youthful yet oh so clever ksnapped, have seen fit to send a flattering ray of pink spotlight my way by bestowing the Versatile Blogger Award upon me, and I am grateful and thrilled to be in such illustrious company. Thanks, Vickie and K!

As always, there are rules. Here they are:

  • In a post on your blog, nominate 10 fellow bloggers for The Versatile Blogger Award.
  • In the same post, add the Versatile Blogger Award.
  • In the same post, thank the blogger who nominated you in a post with a link back to their blog.
  • In the same post, share seven completely random pieces of information about yourself.
  • In the same post, include this set of rules.
  • Inform each nominated blogger of their nomination by posting a comment on each of their blogs.

Simple enough. Let’s begin. Seven completely random pieces of information about me:

I am proud to be a member of this gene pool I can tell you.

  1. Any food that involves wet bread repels me. Ugh, stuffing.
  2. I am distantly related to the most miserly woman in the world, Hetty Green, aka the Witch of Wall Street.
  3. I have never, ever worn a track suit/wind suit or whatever they are called, and you shouldn’t either. If anyone tells you these are acceptable as day wear, assume they are out to humiliate you.
  4. My first car was a bronze 1970 Ford Ltd. It was bigger than most countries.
  5. I am trying to learn to surf, but it’s not going as well as I’d like.
  6. When I was two and a half, I ate an entire bottle of orange-flavored baby aspirin and had to have my stomach pumped.
  7. I am no stranger to emergency rooms. See #6.

OK, so now my nominees. When the Taller than Average femme fatale sent the 7 x 7 Link Award my way, I passed it on to the bloggers whose writing I think is stellar. This time, I’d like to put the spotlight on bloggers whose sites are really well put together. Those of you who undertake this task know how difficult it can be to make things look nice, but presentation, though not everything, certainly does matter. Unlike the horrifying chaos of my own little corner of the blogosphere, these five have great looking sites, and of course, they also can write. I’m only including five instead of the mandated ten (which I admit is cheating) because quite honestly most of the blogs I read have already received this and many other awards. Also, by the time I stop in at all the blogs I want to visit, my day is shot, I’m still in my pajamas and it’s freaking dinner time already. Anyways, feast your eyes:

Baker Bettie
Rufus’ Food and Spirits Guide
Damp Squid
The Dust Settles

Once again, thank you so much K and Vickie.

The short end of the stick

Not as comfortable as they look. Courtesy

Generally speaking (and I mean very generally) I confine my ramblings to food and drink or the mundane world of household chores, but I do have other interests and feel compelled from time to time to express an opinion or hazard a conjecture on that which falls outside the domestic realm. Such was the case last week when my virtual pal, the Freshly Pressed Cristy Carrington, penned a post entitled 5 Reasons Why God Loves Short People Best. As I am somewhat lacking in stature I begged to differ, and the good folks at More magazine have seen fit to include my little rant among their member blogs.

I hope you’ll have a look. Here’s the link just in case:

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