Ponzu sauce?

I was recently reading a recipe and now I can't remember where I read it, but among other things it called for, you needed a 1/2 cup of Ponzu sauce.  OK....I'll bite.  Since I was totally clueless and my Japanese has gotten a little rusty, I went to my foodie dictionary, Food Lover's Companion.  It has "comprehensive definitions of nearly 6,000 food, drink, and culinary terms".  Whew.  But here's the best part: in defining Ponzu, it uses three other Japanese words--2 you must cross reference, in order to figure out what the hell is in in Ponzu sauce.  I'm serious.  The words were Kombu (seaweed), Katsuobushi (dried tuna flakes), and Chirinabe (a one pot dish).  Fageadaboudit.  The other stuff it listed I at least have a working knowledge of, but seaweed and dried tuna flakes?  I'll pass.  I'm sure somebody out there is game enough to try it but I'm betting their last name isn't Harris.  Or, even Caroline, for that matter.

On tonight's menu is Fred's ultimate delish din-din:  Smothered Dove.  He was going to fix it for dinner last night but there was one small hitch--the dove were still frozen.  So, when we got back from dinner, he did his thing, and once cooled, slipped them in the refrig. to snooze.  I didn't realize we even had any more dove since the hunter who cleaned them, forgot to mark them as to contents of the container.  I've learned not to thaw anything that's not marked--it's usually something wild and random that I don't want to cook, much less eat anyway. These are a combo of his Farm and alley/ front yard hunts --he's always shooting at something--so even if the game sucks, dinner will be grand.

On a happy note, Sis is thrilled to have all this snow and ice melted.  She was seriously bored and even fell off into a snow drift by the back door, naked.  Her coat wouldn't have helped, since her tummy is what went snow first, but she was just pissed after wards.  Can't say as I blame her.  We are off shortly on a walk to get outside and enjoy some sunshine and exercise.  We girls just need to get outside.

Nunya

My neighbor just drove in his drive way and his car was sporting a "carhawk".  You know...the kind where the snow has melted off the sides of the top, just leaving that tall stack of snow down the center.  Awwwk-ward looking at best.  But, the sun is out, some of this junk is melting, so the end is in sight--at least for a little while. 

Speaking of awkward, here's my latest dilemma.  A man my mom used to date, and allllmost married, keeps calling me to "inquire" about mom.  I say he allllmost married mom only because we had an intervention to prevent that from happening.  I've blogged about it in the past but take my word for it--he's a wrong number, and I shiver to think how close he got to our family.  He's abusive, mean, and just down right sick, and he refers to himself as "Uncle __X___".  This guy knows I will not tolerate him--but he's calling me to find out about mom.  This is especially strange in that he likes my sister, and he's not calling her.  This same guy had asked me a year ago to take some earrings from mom, that he liked, so he could have them made into cuff links.  See?  I told you he was a rats ass.  Anywho, thank heaven for caller ID, as I have zero intention of speaking to this man, much less "giving him a report on mother", as he's requested.  Around here, that's what we call "Nunya"--as in nunya bidness.  Take the hint, buddy.

What Super Bowl?

After my third package of hamburger buns yesterday, I knew I was headed to Tom Thumb anyway so bird seed would be next.  I arrived, chatting with a friend on my phone, asking what I needed for one of her recipes--couldn't remember everything.  As we were chatting along, I felt something...sort of like a touch on my back, but didn't see anyone when I turned around.  Then, I looked down.  Oh, yeah, baby...it was the cutest little boy in the world, with a ginormous smile on his face, and cowboy boots on his feet, chewing bubble gum.  Yep.  Hudson.  I got off the phone, we hugged and I kissed all over him, and we laughed our heads off.  His mom was shortly behind us, with Hadley pushing one of those little kid's mini grocery carts.  Off he and I went to get cheese for my recipe, and a big sack of bird food for my sparrows.  He's a wonderful cheese chooser and just fun, no matter how you slice it.  I need to call him this morning to report on our bird feeding.  We've had quite a response from hungry birds and Sis.  Yep.  I caught her eating bird food in the backyard that I'd thrown on top of the ice yesterday.  She'll eat anything.

Now on to the top disappointment of the week.  Good Morning America chose the third place voting finisher, Liz, instead of Cooper Boone, who finished in first place.  They never said it would all be based on the voting--I get that--but a third place finisher??  Yeow.  Guess I'll be sticking with The Today Show and I sent them an appropriate nastygram to that effect.  Go figure.  And the point of voting was whaaaat?

I blogged earlier last month about people spending $200 to stand outside the stadium, for the Super Bowl.  Don't you know people who did that are having a large cow right now??  Not to mention the people who bought those major expensive tickets, who can't even get here, due to the snow?  And all the private jets flying in, that can't land??  And all the parties that have been paid for that no one can attend.  Not to mention all the lost revenue for Dallas.  Everyone on TV is trying to keep a stiff upper lip but wowser....the NFL and Big Jer must be wearing Depends about now.  The good news??  We all get to stay home and do all those little honey-do's or just chill, until this stuff melts.  I'm so grateful my heat is on, my refrigerator is full, and my birds are fed.  The rest is just gravy.

I got out yesterday simply because I had to...or I was going to start pulling my eyelashes out, one by one.  Bored, much??  I went to Preston Center on two errands and then went to North Park to walk, but jettisoned the idea of a movie.  Sis said I had to take her if I went to a movie and I just wasn't up for that.  I loved being out, though.  It was cold, but brisk and beautiful--very Ansel Adams outside.  Black, white, gray.  Lovely.  And I loved seeing all the people outside with their Labs, throwing balls and playing, dogs coats steaming, almost impervious to the cold.  The dogs, that is.....the owners looked miserable. 

Because I was worried about my fighting, probably frozen, little sparrows, I took yet another freezer burned package of hamburger buns outside, and decorated the driveway.  It was fun ripping up and tossing all that old bread and I could hear the birds all talking about the buffet below, but not a single sparrow showed up.  At least not any I saw.  Usually they come in droves--- and fight like two cats in a bag--- but not yesterday.  They're probably lying on the beach somewhere in Mexico, laughing their beaks off that we're here freezing.  I told you they were mean.

Ahhhh....you needed that picture, didn't you?  I know I did.

Thankfully, we were not among the power outage chosen few yesterday though my sister and Brian were.  Just as I was about to run a load of clothes yesterday, I remembered my stuff was not exactly mission critical and there was simply no reason to suck more power out of an already drained system, with some people totally without heat.  Who said blonde's aren't smart?  Soooo, I flipped on the tube instead.  And, played on the computer.  :)

Wake up, Mr. Sheen

Day 2 of the sleet and ice crisis and you'd think it was the only topic in town because it sure as heck is, on local TV.  That, and the Super Bowl.  Errrgh.  Not particularly interested in either and when they preempted the Big O's show yesterday, to talk about the weather some more, that was just WRONG.  I am tempted to get out today simply because I am going totally stirrrrrr crazy and I know I'm not alone there either.  The only thing that's cooling my jets is the reminder of what happened this time last year, when I hit a patch of ice.  My car was in the shop for weeks and I drove at least four different rent cars during that time.  I still think I could s-l-i-d-e to North Park and exercise walk inside, if nothing else.  And maybe sneak in a movie.  I think it's only right, don't you?

OK.  Enough of this weather stuff and let's get on to something really important:  Charlie Sheen's home Rehab.  C'mon.  Are you kidding me?  Rehab at home?  NOT.  That's not even Rehab Lite.  That's just total BS.  Way too comfy, familiar, and waaaaay too easy.  Don't want to do something?  Rehab at home says you don't have to.  And Group therapy??  Hello, there is no group.  Just you, Charlie, and I'm not thinking you're going to learn much from yourself right now.  The sad part is, you can't make someone want recovery and Charlie clearly doesn't.  He's a really sick guy and I am honestly sorry about that.  Until he really does want to get better, he's going to keep doin' what he's doin', and it will most likely kill him.  The saddest part is, he doesn't think so.  Addiction sucks.

Downton Abbey

In the event you are bored out of your mind in this cold and ice, I have an immediate cure for you if you don't watch PBS on Sunday night.  If you Google Downton Abbey, for a short time longer you can watch all four (1.5 hour) episodes online, and that will not only burn six hours for you, but you will be hooked and ready for the second part of the series, once it's finished filming -- slated for viewing in 2012.  It is fabulous, veddy, veddy English and I even got Fred hooked watching it.  Part 4 was this past Sunday.  Enjoy!

Ooops, I did it again...

It has begun.  The beginning of The End.  I've been considering it for awhile--especially when it's cold--but this morning I finally did it.  I heard Sis whining and got up thinking she wanted to come back to the bedroom.  Nope. Not exactly.
When I popped up, she was standing in the doorway looking all sad and pitiful, sooooooo when she ran over to me, I scooped her up and put her under the covers with me.  And we snuggled.  And spooned.  And when Fred walked out of the bathroom, I told him something really BAD had happened and he ripped off his headphones-- he listens to The Ticket with a religious fervor, every morning.  I peeled back the covers and there she was..... all slick and black and beautiful, and he liketa d-i-e-d.  I always did this with the Wigman--even in his later days-- and paid a tremendous price for it.  It became like dog crack-- on both sides.  I might as well face it.  I'm a dog junkie and I'll get my fix wherever I can find it.  And so will Sis. The smell of warm dog combined with that slick black fur and those soft, soft, ears of hers, was just too much.  All that steely reserve of mine about no dog fur in the bed, flew right out the window. And did I mention it's cold?? 

I am now toast.  She'll probably expect it from now on.  Maybe not.  I might get away with it if I can brainwash her later but the prospects aren't looking good.  She's sitting right behind me in the chair, reading this.  I'm screwed.