Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Sitting in Silence

colorized social sciences

[This is a re-post from a blog entry I wrote when I still logged into MySpace.  Original date: March 7, 2007.]

Today, at 12:54PM, I went to lunch -- Tony's Pizza.  It's become my ritual.  Everyday.  Ever--single--day.  I'm not complaining; it's good food at a good price, although, I'm not too sure it's good on my health.  With that in mind, I decided to order only one slice rather than the usual two.  As I walked to the counter, an acquaintance passed me by on his way outside to sit and wait for his food.

Awkward glance.  Raised eyebrows, if to say "hey".  I think it was Gina Fiore's boyfriend... I think his name was Cam.  I can't be certain.  He sat outside, I sat in-- in uncomfortable silence.  His order came up first -- he grabbed his pizza; I averted my eyes, pretending to be interested in the texture on the napkin that lay in front of me on the table.  Nothing said. 

Regret…

Last week ago, I encountered a similar situation.  Another acquaintance.  The same restaurant.  She didn't see me, but I saw her; she was coming from the Sesame Inn.  In the interest of avoiding the awkward moment, I sat in silence. 

Regret…

I finished my slice, and checked the clock -- 1:26PM.  "Hmm... 30 minutes more."  I went back to work early.  At Borchard and the 101, I rolled up on a shot at redemption.  A red light.  A black jeep.  Exposed sides-- rag top.  White curly hair everywhere.
I glanced over.  Then ahead.  I sat until I boiled.  Silence no more.  I rolled down my window...

"MR. C!"

He looked over as I shouted over the engine of the loud semi-trunk that turned left in front of us.

"I JUST WANTED TO SAY THAT YOU'RE THE BEST TEACHER THAT I'VE EVER HAD!  THANK mr-c-clickerYOU!"

Without missing a beat, he reached into his pocket and acknowledged me with his simple gesture coupled with a smile.

"click-click"

Atypically, the light turned green just at that moment, sparing us of the usual minute of uncomfortable silence after saying hi to someone at a stop light.  Ever more peculiar, the moment didn't confront us at the two subsequent red lights (He had pulled behind me).  I turned left into the parking lot as he zoomed passed me.

I really miss that guy.

I’m not too embarrassed to admit that I regret a lot of things that I did or didn’t do in high school.  Luckily, taking a course with Paul Coffman is not one of those things.

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Wednesday, May 13, 2009

the nice

You should really read my sister’s blog.  It’s much better than mine.

melbellomo.blogspot.com

allthenice.com

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Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Read More

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It’s come to my attention that the formatting scheme I put into place (described in this post) has only led to confusion and disappointment. 

I’ve removed it.

If you feel you’ve fallen victim to these short posts, and missed the “Read more…” link, I’d encourage you to go back and experience the full majesty of my blogging.

I’m talking to you, Colorado!

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Chicken Piccata

Here’s my favorite preparation of chicken piccata.

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2   chicken breasts (boneless, skinless)
1/3 cup flour
3 Tbsp Parmesan or Romano cheese (grated)
4 Tbsp olive oil
6 Tbsp butter
1/3 cup lemon juice
1/2 cup dry white wine (we often use Chardonnay)
1/4 cup brined capers (drained)

Get things started by uncorking your wine and pouring yourself a glass.  Everyone always says that you shouldn’t cook with wine that you wouldn’t drink.  Given that I’ll drink anything short of “corked” wine, this is a very low hurdle for the wine to surpass.  Still, this dish takes a bit of patience, so get that wine flowing!

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This is probably the hardest part of the entire recipe, and it’s also one of the most important.  The thinness and tenderness of the chicken is what gives it the melt-in-your-mouth quality. 

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If you’ve never butterflied a chicken breast before, it can be a bit daunting.  Please take care to not slice your hand off.  I like to put the “rough side” down on the cutting board and make a slow horizontal incision.  Once you make it a few inches in, peel up the top layer and put a little tension on the “V” between the two forming cutlets.  Make long, easy strokes against that point – you shouldn’t need much force on the knife at this point, the breast should kind of “peel apart.”

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If you’ve got behemoth breasts, like the ones they sell at Costco, (and you’re feeling like a challenge) you want to shoot for a “tri-fold” cut (as I call it).  Do the same as above, but only with the top third of the breast, then reverse the knife and go back the other way in the same manner.  If you have a better technique for getting thin cutlets, please let me know.

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If you don’t feel like your cutlets are thin enough, you can also pound them out.  I recommend doing this as it helps to tenderize the chicken as well.  I encase the cutlets in cling wrap and pound away, striking down with an outward motion (does that make sense).  Make sure the cling wrap isn’t too tight, or it’ll bust out of the side and make a mess.  Set the breasts aside on a dish.

Look – if you’re worrying about making the cutlets look nice and even, don’t.  While visual appeal is great, it’s the flavor that makes the dish.  If you’ve got irregularly sized pieces, don’t worry about it.

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Grate a few tablespoons of cheese into a flour-filled dish.  This is your dredging dish, used to coat your chicken, so make sure it’s large enough.  The tall lip helps keep flour from flying our when coating your breasts.

I used a microplane with Pecorino Romano – I like the more pronounced flavor of romano, but the shreds that the microplane creates tend to clump together when mixing in with the flour.  Just keep in mind that after tossing around a bit, it’ll loosen up.

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This next set of pictures should be clear enough without my ranting.

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All right – the breast are coated and ready.  Let’s proceed.

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Get your pan going on medium-high heat.

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Section your 6 tablespoons of butter into 2 tablespoon increments.

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Melt 2 tablespoons of butter into 2 tablespoons of olive oil.  Precise measurement on the oil isn’t essential – eyeball it.  You’re basically just getting enough fat in there to fry (not deep-fry) your chicken.

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Lower one breast into the pan – take care not to plop it in or you’ll send hot fat flying everywhere!.

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Flip after about 2 minutes, and cook an additional 2 minutes.  You’re looking for golden brown on both sides.  Remove the chicken to a plate and cover with aluminum foil.

You’re going to repeat this procedure with the second breast: add 2 more tablespoons each of butter and oil, and lower the breast in – 2 minutes each side.

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While the breasts are cooking, juice your lemons and prepare your deglazing liquids – lemon juice, white wine, and capers.  It all goes in at the same time, so feel free to mix it ahead of time

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When the breasts are done, set them aside – perhaps in a warm oven (or perhaps not.)  The pan will have brown bits of goodness stuck to the bottom.  This is the “fond” and will help to flavor our sauce.  Pour the juice/wine/capers into the hot pan, scraping the bits off the bottom as the pan sizzles.

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Stirring occasionally to keep it from burning, reduce this liquid by half.  One trick for measuring that is flipping the wooden spoon around and dipping the cylinder into the sauce when you start, then repeating after some time to measure the difference in liquid height. 

I don’t do this.

Instead, I just wait for the liquid to thicken.  It’ll begin to “slosh” less and will look slightly syrupy.  It’s very important that you get to this point before proceeding.  The next step is to add the last 2 tablespoons of butter an whisk to incorporate; this finishes the sauce.  If you add the butter, then reduce more, you run the risk that the sauce will break, leaving you with an oil slick.

When the butter is incorporated, move your chicken back into the pan and let it soak in the flavor (on low heat) for a 3 minutes – or don’t.

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Move the chicken to the serving dish and cover with the remaining sauce.

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Optionally, you can sprinkle with some roughly chopped Italian parsley.  It gives the dish a nice refreshing note. 

Meg can’t tell cilantro from parsley at times, so we had to forgo this night.  ;-)

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Remember one, very important thing: the recipe just doesn’t matter that much.  I encourage you to modify the recipe, adding more/less of what you like/dislike.  I often heap extra capers into the sauce. 

BUT please, don’t add the butter to the sauce too soon!

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Lemonhead Martini

lemonhead-martini-16

We’re heading into Summertime, so I thought I’d publish the recipe for Meg’s favorite refreshing martini.  I cobbled this together for her one day when she said she wanted a “lemondrop.”  She was pleasantly surprised with the outcome, and we began “beta-testing” it on our friends.  The results were universally positive, and typically the tasting ended with requests for the recipe.

We’ve been struggling for a name for it.  The recipe differs enough from a lemondrop that I think it needs its own name.  The x-factor is the limoncello, so I was thinking “cellodrop” for a while…  Though, the flavor mostly reminds me of a Lemonhead, so I’ve settled on that for now.

Without further ado, I give you the recipe.  I should warn you though – Meg is often disappointed now with restaurant lemondrop martinis.

lemonhead-martini-01

2 parts FRESH lemon juice

~1 Tbsp sugar

1 part orange liquor – there isn’t really any discernable difference here; Cointreau, Grand Marnier, triple sec, blue Curacao (Meg prefers the blue-green result from using the latter).

1 part limoncello – We’ve tried Caravella and Pallini.  Meg prefers the Caravella due to the higher alcohol content.  It’s a little more alcohol-y, but Meg says when she’s drinking, she wants to know… I prefer Pallini – it creates such a smooth drink, you could almost mistake it for straight lemonade.

1 part vodka

 

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“ReaLemon” is not an adequate substitute!  If you don’t have fresh lemon juice, don’t bother.  I’m not saying that to be snobby, I just don’t want you to waste your alcohol…

lemonhead-martini-03 Rolling your lemons before slicing will loosen up the juices (I guess…)

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Cut along the equator for best results.

 

 

 

 

 

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First things first – rim the martini glass with the cut side of the lemon.  The lemon juice will cause the sugar to stick better than simply using water.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Invert the glass and dip into sugar; amount of coverage is up to your preference.  It’s important to do this up front so we can get the martini glass chilling in the freezer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

lemonhead-martini-08lemonhead-martini-07Proceed to juice your lemons.  We prefer this style of juicer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Pour the lemon juice into the shaker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lemonhead-martini-10Follow that with the sugar.  Superfine will make things easier; simple syrup better still.  But plain old granules will suffice and it commonly what we use.

 

 

 

 

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Give that a good shake to dissolve the sugar into the lemon juice.  Next, add your ice – about 3/4 full on your shaker.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Next, add your liquors and spirits.  I typically go from more viscous to less, i.e. orange-to-limoncello-to-vodka.  I feel like this leaves less remaining in the measurer.

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Give it about 40 good shakes.  More or less could be fine… I’m not sure.  Someone once told me 40 was a good general purpose number, and I’ve followed that blindly.  Pour into your frosty glass.

 

 

lemonhead-martini-16Garnish with a lemon twist if you’re feelin’ fancy.

 

 

 

 

Well, I hope that wasn’t too complicated – Enjoy!

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Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Switch to Worms: Part I

Since I was about nine, I’ve been going with all of the males on my Dad’s side of the family on the annual Opening Day Fishing Trip.  Last year saw the end of an era with the closure of our traditional destination.  This year, the older generation sought to kill it completely.

The ritual itself is actually more like 65 years old.  I’m not sure if it’s always been the way that I’ve known it – I would have to assume not.  The men of the Costanzo, Galante, and Bellomo all get together, at least just this once, every year.  The last Saturday in April holds Opening Day for Trout Season.  Our journey begins on that Friday.

Aunt Peno prepares an enormous breakfast to keep us satiated during our five hour car ride to the Eastern Sierras.  For whatever reason, and much to our detriment, we Bellomos usually fail to attend in time.  From there the trip continues up the 5, to the 14, and finally the 395, our vehicles slipping in-and-out of caravan mode at various points throughout.  There’s typically at least one stop before reaching Bishop, whether it be for a bite to eat in Mojave or a bathroom break at a rest stop between Independence and Big Pine.  There are a few essential stops upon reaching Bishop though…

The first is Culver’s Sporting Goods, where we re-stock supplies and buy our fishing licenses, typically a Two-Day’er – only a few of us are actually avid fishermen.  Next stop is Schat’s Bakkery – not unknown to many Mammoth bound travelers.  Stocked with pull-away and “Chili-Cheeze” breads, we make our final stop at Mahogany Smoked Meats to buy our supply of jerky.  I highly recommend “Western”-style Buffalo.  Then it’s straight on through to Alpers’ Owens River Ranch…

Or at least it was until last year.  In December 2007, Tim Alpers sold his ranch to John Gottwald, who had also purchased the neighboring Arcularius Ranch.  It was no longer open to the public – reserved for “private use.”  This immediately sent our plans into disarray.  The trip was off for 2008. 

Around March, I discovered that the troops had been rallied and our tradition would carry-on.  We’d make our base at a condo in Mammoth (which is kind of ironic), and drive in to fish the Owens.  By this point, though, I’d made other plans, and for the first time in 15 years, I missed the fishing trip.  Somebody missing a year wasn’t unheard of – many of us had missed a year here or there.  But this was the first time I wasn’t going, and it was kind of a big deal for me.

While I hear it was fun, 2008 was evidently not the same.  The condo lacked the charisma of the cabin that had kept us returning year after year.  Our fathers had ended their love affair with the process a few years earlier, and it appears that without the traditional grounds, they finally had enough to rationalize its cancellation. 

2009 was officially canceled.  They told us that the economy was too poor; that we’d just reschedule for June – as if skies would be brighter then.  This trip is what grants the sanity and relief that allow you to deal with the woes of the real world for the rest of the year!

We rebelled.

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Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Carpeteria – Day Four

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(See also Day One and Days Two & Three)

We rose on Sunday morning eager to hit the beach before packing it in and heading home.  Ang and Lucila went for a “10 minute walk” (we saw them an hour later). I started in on my breakfast, and Grandma asked me for an aspirin – she wasn’t feeling well.

Relaxing in the morning sun and enjoying my old fashioned donut, I was quickly snapped to attention by Meg – Sophie needed a diaper change…  I proceeded to do the needful.

Suddenly, I heard my Mom call over to me for help.  I looked over and saw her panicked; Grandma was slumped over on the picnic table, seemingly unconscious.  Meg took Sophie as I ran over to determine what was going on.  Was she choking?  Had she passed out?  As I picked her up, I noticed her body was rigid, and her hands clutched the checkered table cloth.  Her jaw looked clenched and her eyes glassy – was she having a stroke? A heart attack?  No sooner had we laid her on the ground, did she sit back up and assure us everything was fine.  What ever had happened, she had snapped out of it.

While all of this was going on, a ranger happened to drive by.  She asked Meg if we needed help, and proceeded to radio for paramedics. 

Grandma was not happy about this.  She didn’t want someone to check her vitals or, God forbid, make her go to a hospital.  My mom and I assured her that they were just going to check her quickly and let her go.  We’d still have a nice day at the beach.

We were wrong.

What we’d assumed was just a low blood-sugar episode turned out to be much more severe.  The paramedics assessed her symptoms (while confirming that her blood-sugar levels were normal) and diagnosed cardiac arrhythmia.  A hospital trip was in order, but she wasn’t going down without a fight.  The paramedics relayed her status to Uncle Pat (a firefighter) who was ultimately able to convince her.

Off they went in the ambulance.  I was sure she’d never for give us.

Mom followed the ambulance and Meg and I began to strike camp.  Although mom implored us to enjoy the day as if everything were normal, It didn’t seem right to relax at the beach with Grandma in the hospital.  Still, mom told us to proceed as normal until we heard from her.  Yeah, ok…

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After packing up, we were pretty hungry though.  Ang and Lucila had finally returned and we filled them in on what had happened.  We decided to grab lunch at “The Spot” and wait for news from mom.  Truth be told, we decided to grab lunch to go, and bring it over to “Island Brewery” across the street.  If we were going to be waiting around, at least we could be sampling beer. (The inconsistency of drinking alcohol rather than lying on the beach while your grandma is in the hospital is not lost on me.)

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The brewery was a neat joint, and friendly with kids and dogs to boot.  The patrons vary from sandaled beach-goers to Harley-Davidson mounted bikers.  Sophia was frightened by the latter – the bikes were simply too loud for her.  Truthfully, the motorcycles were nothing compared to the horn-blaring Amtrak train that passes by with uncomfortable closeness.  In her panic to be rescued from the “scary choo-choo monster,” a glass of beer was knocked off the table and shattered on the ground.  In other news, Meg sampled a beer against her better judgment.

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As it happened, Grandma ended up be discharged a few hours later.  She had some infections that had gone untreated for a few weeks.  They led to dehydration, which subsequently caused the arrhythmia.  They gave her some antibiotics and told her to follow up with her regular doctor.

Mom and Grandma returned to the beach and got in a few more hours of sun.  The rest of us decided we need to get home and unpack before the work week began again.

It was an exciting day in all of the wrong ways.  We made the best of it and it worked out.

NOTE: Grandma’s doing much better.

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