chile_peppa

When I was at school, lettuce wedges were available at every lunch and dinner. The story was that an alumna had endowed a "lettuce fund" so that there would always be something to eat when the main course offerings were not what you wanted. (For doesn't everyone like lettuce?). I like mine with blue cheese. BTW, here is an interesting discussion of Thousand Island dressing that quotes newspaper articles from as early as 1913. The following could still be true today...

Ah, my dear, the glass is always completely full. Some of it is filled with air, and some of it is filled with liquid, but it is always full. It just depends on which part you wish to see.

I like the slurpy noise the straw makes when you're at the bottom of the glass. And the paper wrapping is fun to blow at your dining companions.

There's a smoke-free club called Rhythm on Randolph Street in Chicago. The voluntary smoking ban doesn't seem to have an adverse effect on the crowd there. Smokers politely go outside; nonsmokers can breathe and avoid smelling like an ashtray from the second-hand smoke. It works pretty well for all, and it's one of the friendliest places around.

I've seen al'fredo, allfreddo, al'freddo, al Fredo, al'Fredo, and other variations of alfredo. I'm expecting to come across "al Frodo" next.

Do you remember the episode of the Simpsons where Homer sees pretty colors after eating some chile peppers? My sons and I were circumnavigating Lake Erie on a spur of the moment trip to Niagara Falls (Canada) after leaving a family reunion near Toledo, OH. It was nearing midnight when we reached Buffalo, NY, and we were getting hungry. So we asked the tollbooth keeper for directions to the Anchor Bar, home of the buffalo wing, because well, how could you pass up a chance like this? After driving through some tough-looking streets, we finally found the place, and we were the night's last customers. My older son, then 16 and in the midst of a really nasty phase of life, decided he was going to be a man and order the hottest available wings. The aroma hit us like a ton of bricks as soon as the kitchen door opened and the server came through with a tray of flaming wings. Our eyes were watering before they reached the table. The kid chomped down, started sweating, and his eyes popped, but he wouldn't admit defeat for anything. He finished off the platter. He was actually weaving by the time we left. And yes, he couldn't see straight -- those pretty colors got in the way.

I am a woman. I have found that pretty much anything I put on the table that a man didn't have to cook for himself works.

Ha! You may be joking about those hardware store hamburgers, but there really is a Home Depot here that has a Chicago-style hot dog/hamburger/Polish sausage stand in the lobby. The smell of grilled onions and grease permeates the air. They do great business with the contractors who stop in for supplies -- one-stop shopping. And I hear there's a laundromat with a door to the adjoining tavern...lots of suds there!

When my brother, born and bred in Chicago, moved to St. Louis, he claimed that the only pizza he could stand was from a gas station off of I-70 near Wentzville.

I don't pay much attention to what other people are buying, but people do seem to check out my shopping cart. Like Jujubee, I shop at different stores for different things. Once at a large supermarket, the cashier said "Gosh, even your snacks are healthy!" On the other hand, the Biker Dude and I were stocking up for the Spawn and the Offspring (20-something sons who don't often have time for "real food" and seem to thrive on junk food), when a stick-thin fellow shopper eyed the contents of our overloaded cart and gave us a very disgusted look down her nose. Oh well...

My household consists of guys who would be just as happy with a can of Chef-Boy-Ar-Dee as with a real home-cooked meal (and in fact, look askance upon some of my more "exotic" concoctions). After a long day of programming and politics at the office, I sometimes yearn for a bit of cheese, a cracker or two, and a good stiff shot of Jameson's (or three). I mean, why bother? On the other hand, some days, there's no better therapy than trying something new in the kitchen. A few days of takeout or leftovers or diner meals usually cures the kitchen blues.

I am able to make fairly edible stuff out of just what's in the house. I buy things I like and figure out what to do with them as fancy strikes. And I am fortunate enough to have forgiving friends and family who will eat what I set before them as long as they don't have to cook for themselves. On the other hand, I cannot follow directions. I have hundreds of cookbooks, probably thousands of recipes in clippings and databases. And I just can't bring myself to follow any of them word for word, step by step. My motto: Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly. Probably comes from being a Myers-Briggs INTP...

My Japanese mother told me that eating seaweed would make my hair black. My hair IS very dark, but it has red highlights from my Scotch-Irish ancestors. She wanted me to look more Japanese. My American grandmother told me that eating bread crusts would turn my absolutely straight hair curly. She wanted me to be more American. Needless to say, neither of these things changed my hair at all.

The Biker Dude lived many years as a single father, feasting at Burger King and Taco Bell, and heating the occasional quick-n-easy thing in the microwave. He's a really terrible cook when it comes to anything but prepared foods and even then, it's a little iffy. Apparently, his son ate a lot of ramen in his formative years. He eats Chef-Boy-Ardee cold out of the can. He likes squishy white bread. He hates mushrooms but like someone else above, he'll eat them if he can't see them. He made a chicken and rice dish and managed to burn the Minute Rice black. He couldn't figure out why I wouldn't eat it. He tries, but I told him never to cook for me again. But, on the other hand, he absolutely loves anything I make for him. I don't press him to eat any of the more "exotic" things that I like, but he's willing to try quite a lot. If I instruct him carefully, he's good at peeling and chopping and other prep tasks. He always thanks me for cooking for him, and he cleans the kitchen and scrubs the pots. He takes out the trash without my asking. There's still hope.

I have never cooked liver myself because I am squeamish about touching raw meat in general and offal in particular. But the Biker Dude and I often have liver, onions, and bacon at a local 24-hour diner. I tend to be a little anemic and a good, juicy, iron-filled piece of liver is just the ticket. BD doesn't like onions, so he gives me his -- such a gentleman!

Ooooh. Wonder Bread, processed cheese slices and bologna. The tastes of childhood. All you're missing from that is the Miracle Whip. Maybe pickles too, but that'd be plain ole luxury. ← With smooshed potato chips to add crunch -- yum! And it had to be Oscar Mayer bologna because I went to Oscar Mayer School!

You include your favorite ethnic grocery stores on the grand tour of your city when you have out-of-town guests.

Here is more information than you ever wanted to know about chopsticks and their use: Wikipedia article Mymother taught me to use Japanese lacquered chopsticks when I was a child and I have been known to carry my own with me to restaurants. I don't really like the feel of the disposable sort.

I don't much like paper plates -- I even unwrap carryout and eat it on a real plate. But when I'm expecting seven house guests for the weekend plus another 30 or so for a buffet on Saturday, and the dishwasher is broken, you bet the Chinet is coming out! I do have enough designer stainless steel cutlery to avoid plastic tableware, but paper napkins will have to do. For family gatherings, my stepmother sets out a china plate for my dad, but all the offspring get paper. But then again, it's usually 20 or more people and no nonhuman dishwasher.

I was intrigued by the avocado leaves, too. I found this reference, which explains what they are. Apparently, not all types are toxic, and you can substitute other things. However, I cannot imagine using two pounds of bay leaves!

This is the barbacoa recipe directly from Chipotle as reported by News 10 in Sacramento. It looks pretty tasty. Edited because I can't type.

The Biker Dude insists that we sit side by side, facing the door (a remnant from his shady past, no doubt). He's the romantic one in this relationship. We have always shared our food, too, from the very first date.

I'm a web developer and usability architect. My philsophy is "Just because you can doesn't mean you should." Many clients are blown away by stupid web tricks, and they do indeed forget the real purpose of most web sites -- conveying information. I can't tell you how many times I've tried to convince clients that they don't need Flash animation, cheesy "music," or flashing text to get their point across, and that in fact, they will turn away potential customers who find their sites unusable. Most professional sites are turning away from complex designs to simple, straightforward schemes. It's the amateurs who do "kewl."

While I abhor hot cereals (the texture gets to me), I will cook them for others. My BF likes oatmeal but his favorite is Coco Wheats -- does anyone else eat this?

I am one of those people. As a full-time parent, I took my children to the country to pick fresh fruits and vegetables in farm fields, I taught them to garden and bake and cook "real" food, we ate in little ethnic restaurants together. They never ate store-bought cookies or drank Kool-Aid until they went to preschool where other kids brought those kinds of things for the morning snack. But things change. As the children grew, I took first freelance, then part-time, and finally full-time paid work. I had less time to devote to "real" food, so sometimes we had Kraft mac 'n' cheese for dinner. I made Hamburger Helper exactly once, though, because we just couldn't eat it. Now I cook on weekends because I want to, but on a regular working night, I may stop in for a sandwich at some fast food place or open a can of soup for supper. Yes, I know prepared stuff is not as healthy, tasty, whatever as stuff I can make at home, and as important as food is in my life, I am also involved in many other activities that take time and I cannot do everything every day. It's a matter of finding balance.