2 Gallons of Milk

I visit grocery stores daily, just in hope of what I might find. Today I was thrilled to find a few gallons of milk, I bought two because we’ve rationed out what little we had at home for days. I found a loaf of overpriced bread that my kids might eat. We’ll see. No fresh meat, yet. I was happy to see some fresh fruits and vegetables. I even found beef stock and some clean frozen vegetables. Hope to find flour in a day or two so I don’t have to break open our emergency dry goods supply. 

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Missing Instapot Feature

For all of the smart features the Instapot has, it lacks the “I forgot I put the lid gasket in the dishwasher and that’s probably why the kitchen suddenly smells so strongly of the broth I’m making… holyshittheresliquideverywhere!”

Yeah. That feature.

Spicy Peanut Butter Pizza

Spicy peanut butter pizza is an actual thing. It’s exactly as white trash ghetto as you’d expect and exponentially more delicious than you’d imagine.

I’m going to fix the recipe but, jeez, the foundation flavor profile was far more fun than I anticipated.

Best Intended Plans

Dear Midnight Snack,

Mijo, I’m sorry. Sometimes even the best of plans don’t work out. But you know what? We don’t give in and we NEVER give up. We certainly don’t nosedive into a bowl of Sriracha to forget our problems. No, that’s never the answer.

I know how much you desperately wanted to be a taco tonight, mi amor. I’m so sorry it didn’t work out. But I’m proud of the pollo-stuffed quesadilla you became! Look at you! You’re going to be the best quesadilla everrrrrr! Muy guapo!

So, chin up! Go put on your freshest Tapatio! Show the world that nothing can get in your way! You’ve got this!

Now get in mah belly!


Tonight’s post is sponsored by the letter R and the word “reverence.”

I teach my kids that we harm no animals unless we are feeding ourselves or (less likely) defending ourselves. But we eat the muscles and soft tissue of animals. That’s a daily part of our diet.

I don’t hide from my kids that we participate in the wholesale, clinical slaughter of cows, pigs, fish, chicken and occasionally sheep. This is how we have our proteins available for purchase, neatly packed with blood absorbing inserts, wrapped in tidy leak-proof plastic. I have no shame in informing them that someone else does the dirty work of killing the animal, and then another person slices it up into the parts that we purchase by the pound.

I would slaughter, gut and feather a chicken in front of my kids if only to show them this is where chicken strips come from. Or a turkey for Thanksgiving. Not for shock value, but to guide them that a clucking, thinking animal lost their life for your dinner.

I was perhaps 5 or 6 when my father first taught me to catch a rainbow trout from a fresh water stream and then demonstrated how to knock it out (or kill it) against a stone, then to insert a pocket knife into the anus, slicing up the belly to the gills. Cross slice from below the gills down and remove the intestines, then toss the intestines to the other side of the stream for the wild life to eat.

That’s food. That’s how an animal lands on your plate. Someone is doing that ugly work for you every single day, nearly every single meal.

As much as I appreciate television hosts who are willing to tread into darker waters of humanity, they lose me when they back up, horrified, watching goats, sheep and cows slaughtered in front of the camera in 2nd or 3rd world countries. Seriously? You ate a cheese burger before you departed LAX. You had lamb chops outside of O’Hare. Now you’re horrified?

Self righteous hypocrites.

“Human Up”. You’re an omnivore. Stop pretending that this is some terrible 3rd world ghetto shit that you can’t even handle watching while a local thanks the animal then bleeds, guts and breaks down with a rusty knife, all the while praising their kill for its loss and their benefit, with actual reverence for the sacrifice the animal had no choice in making. Reverence makes these people more respectable than us because they looked into the eyes of their dinner and said thank you before they slit its throat. Meanwhile we got pissy at the register for having to pay an extra $0.10 for a plastic bag to keep the pre-packaged sirloin separate from our fruits and vegetables.

We continue to lose touch with the reality and humanness of what we are. That’s not a good thing.

Fruity with a Hint of Cesium

Interesting and slightly terrifying impact of the Fukushima nuclear meltdown of 2011: California red wine prior to 2011 had no noticeable trace (outside of background “noise”) of Cesium-137 radioactivity. After 2011? Cesium-137 appears by a factor of two (meaning double the background noise).

How did it get here? The ocean, the wind. From Japan to Seattle, then down along the west coast of North America where it was absorbed by agriculture and – potentially – every living organism in its path.

What does it mean? We’ll find out eventually once it’s too late.

There were significant problems with the meltdown that could have been prevented if we had functional, radiation shielded robots or R/C systems to mitigate the exposure as reactive systems. We weren’t ready for it. It happened and we’ll pay a price far beyond the initial “573 non-exposure” deaths. Researchers have just started to report findings that are tied to date and agriculture.

I still believe in nuclear energy. Outside of renewables like wind and solar, nuclear is necessary. But it comes with the overhead and preparation for the inherit risks. The Fukushima melt down could have been prevented, even when the tsunami could not have been, and the resulting disaster could have been better mitigated. We failed.

That sucks. It’s going to take its toll eventually. We’re at the initial steps of measuring how. We have to learn from this and invest in better management, over-site and response.

A love letter

Dear Power Pressure Cooker XL,

I know we’ve never met in person but I’ve been really distracted by you lately. I can’t tell you how often I’ve been in the middle of work, dealing with clients, and thought, “Wow, I could really go for a juicy plate of Ossobucco right now, but who has the time?” Then I think of you and my mind goes numb. Your stainless steel, your non-stick easy clean liner… The thought of your Power Chopper, included free, just sends me over the edge.

You want to grab a bite sometime? You bring the heat and I’ll bring the meat (and vegetables and sauce). Let’s chill. Or chili or stew. Whatever. HMU. But keep it discreet. My NuWave thinks she’s my BAE.

Txt me.

Theory of Oatmeal Attraction

I discovered a new theory of physics this morning while cleaning up an entire bucket of dry oatmeal spilled in the pantry: the amount of debris that sticks inside the broom and then drops onto the area you just swept increases inversely proportional to the decreasing amount of time you have to deal with this shit.

Revelation: Dating Can Rock!

I’m not sure what to think: I had what’s called a “date” with this stunning woman last night. We sat down for omakasa at Bluefin in Newport Coast. The crazy part was that the company, conversation and food were so good that I didn’t take a single picture, didn’t check Facebook or Instagram, and actually failed to look at my mobile even once. Instead, I looked at an actual person (who was hawt!!!!) and spoke to her without using my thumbs! It was so strange but awesome!

Did I mention she was stunning? And AWESOME?

So, I’m sorry there’s no pictures and I was gone for so long. But, seriously, you guys need to try this “date” thing. Its so new it doesn’t even have an app yet.