More 'Shroomies, Steak, Garlic Mashed Potatoes

Steak was broiled last night; seasoned with red wine, sea salt, pepper.  Cooked at 4:30 each side.

Potatoes: Obvy.  Boil, mash, mix with butter, garlic, salt, pepper to taste.

'Shroomies: Leftover Baby Bellas and buttons I didn't make the other night.  Seasoned with sesame lime salad dressing, sea salt, pepper, lime juice, olive brine, nutmeg, paprika.  Also: kalamata olives, sliced in half, one small red onion, quartered.  Cooked in a square baking dish for 20 minutes.

After finishing, sprinkled with bleu cheese.

Basically -- throw together whatever the hell sounds good, or might sound good, cook it, try it.  Could be a colossal failure or success. 

Served with Lagunitas The Hairy Eyeball Ale.

Oh --

Please Note: Best not to drop your phone in the mashed potatoes as you take the picture.  Makes for a starchy cleanup likely not covered by any warranty, extended or otherwise.

When a Dolphin Laughs at You, You Know Change is Needed

I have what's called an FSA -- flexible spending account -- that I can put towards medical things that are usually out of pocket.  I've generally never had a problem spending it over the year, as I used to go to acupuncture more often.  But now that I've had my gall bladder out, I've been much healthier, and I haven't gone as much.

The fiscal year for the FSA ends on March 31 and resets on April 1, and I realized I had a lot of money left on it.  And if I don't spend it -- the company gets to keep it.  There was no way I was going to allow them to get all that dough, especially since it's my money to begin with.

What to do?

The solution was to go to Kaiser to get a new prescription for my glasses and choose several new ones.  And that I did -- I got four new pairs of glasses, and it was so fun to get to choose more than one.  I usually wear contacts, but I do wear my glasses every night, and I do get kind of tired of them.  I also got some prescription sunglasses (which I've always thought I should have, but have never gotten) as well as some really nice non-prescription ones.

The FSA site says that non-prescription sunglasses are "potentially eligible" if they get a letter from my eye doctor stating that I need them.  So I wrote to him and asked if he might do just that for me, as my thought was that anything I got at Kaiser would be far better than anything I could get at your everyday, garden-variety drug store -- and these are my eyes, after all.  Have to keep them safe! Right away on Monday morning I received a reply from him saying that my medical record stated I was "light sensitive", and that he would therefore "prescribe" over-the-counter sunglasses as a necessity.

w00t! as they say in the gaming world.

So I got some really nice Oakleys, which I've always wanted, and some classic Ray Ban Wayfarers.  As I still had a load of money left, I then went back and bought a second pair of the same Oakleys, reasoning that if something happened to my first ones, I'd have a backup pair already in place.  I'd likely never have that much money left over to spend again, and so since I did this time -- I may as well use it up as much as I could.  I also got a pair of cute white ones by Guess.  All polarized and very nice.

I had a pair of black Wayfarers (these are a dark almost tortoiseshell brown) that I bought when I was in the Air Force when they were on sale.  But, a few months later, they were stolen.  I hope whoever took them got a lot more use out of them than I did.

When I was about 12 or so, I had a pair of electric blue, cheap, Wayfarer-style sunglasses.  I LOVED them, and thought they were really cool (well, I was 12.  It was the 80s....)

That summer, my family and I took a trip to Hawaii.  One of the things we did was go to Sea World, and one of the shows we watched was with dolphins.  It was in a below-ground room built so that you could see below the water as well as above it for the tricks they performed.   

While we were waiting for the show to begin, I went down to the tank to watch the dolphins swim around.  I was so excited.  Dolphins!  Close up!  One of them stopped and looked at me, and I swear it had an amused expression on its face.  Then it began making its squeaking-cluck noises and its head kept bobbing up and down.

I got the distinct feeling I was amusing it somehow.  That it was -- laughing at me.  Why? I wondered.  My -- glasses, perhaps?  My totally cool, electric blue Wayfarers?  Surely not.

I took them off, and the dolphin stopped laughing, but still continued to watch me -- still with the deeply-amused expression (I remember also thinking how shiny and black its eye was, and how intelligent it seemed).  I put the glasses back on.  It started laughing again.  Took them off -- laughter stopped.  Put them back on -- laughter.  Finally I took them off and slipped them into my pocket. After a moment of watching me a bit more, the dolphin swam away.

I trudged back up to where my parents were and said, glumly, "I want a new pair of sunglasses.  The dolphin just laughed at mine."

I got a new pair at the gift shop.

The electric blue ones got tossed into a drawer when I got home, and eventually they just kind of disappeared.  I felt no loss.  I still think of those glasses sometimes and laugh as I'm perusing them at Rite Aid.

The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau meets What Not to Wear.

So at least these are all real and would likely get, I think, approval from that dolphin, my friendly, marine personal shopper.  We know they're highly intelligent, but who knew they also have fashion sense?

Salmon, 'Shroomies, Asparagus.

Dinner tonight:

Organic baked salmon from New Seasons, which I then braised with sesame-lime salad dressing after warming up gently.

Topping:

Mushrooms (crimini, baby bella, button, shiitake) seasoned with minced ginger, capers, blueberries, tarragon-infused vodka, olive brine, paprika, nutmeg, lemon juice, sea salt and freshly-ground pepper. 

Asparagus:

Roasted; seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground pepper.

Don't ask me quantities, I just go with what I know is good and sounds tasty.  Minced ginger came to about 3 Tbs sprinkled; capers, maybe 2.  Enough seasonings to enhance but not make you go ptooie and frown because it's too strong.

Served with a side of beer and rosemary crispbread crackers by 34 Degrees.

Bake mushrooms and blueberries at 475 for five minutes, then put in asparagus.  Bake for another ten.  Take out mushrooms and blueberries to "rest" (make sure they have a blankie and teddy bear); broil asparagus for 2 minutes.

Serve.

Then, as the esteemed Cooking Asshole (www.cookingasshole.com) and Weird Al Yankovic would say: Eat it.

I Knew What I Meant. Really.

Many years ago, my indoctrination to beer was on Coors, Heineken -- decent enough -- and Mickey's...that's what we had in the house, and I was allowed a sip or two.  Later it was Henry Weindards, and, whilst in the Air Force, it was Whatever Else Someone Was Buying and/or Was Cheap.  Translation = Miller Lite.

I have, of course, since widened my taste and selection.  I am from Portland, after all.  They say you know you're in Seattle because it's bookstore, coffee shop, bookstore, coffee shop; you know you're in Portland because it's bookstore, coffee shop, micro-/craft brewery...bookstore, coffee shop, micro-/craft brewery....

 (Side story here -- I have two friends from Minnesota who moved out here to Oregon and say those above -- Bud, Miller, Coors -- is all you can really get in wide distribution; but, now, after having lived in Portland for so many years and drinking "real" beer, they now say they "can't drink that other stuff" anymore!)

But I digress.

So, roll back maybe 15 years ago.  My family -- my mother, my brother and me (my parents were divorced by then) -- it's possible my best friend was there, too -- were in a McMenamins restaurant. 

(Now, remember, I was a neophyte to this whole beer-type thing, and I was most definitely over 21 by then, though by only two or three years).  I had the menu, and, on the back, they had their beers/beer types printed.  Given acronyms often have pronunciations (NASA, UNICEF, SYSCO...), I piped up to the server, "What's an 'eepah'?  I've always wanted to know."

He blinked at me, note pad and pen paused in his hands.  "A what?"

"An eepah," I replied.  "You have stout, red and eepah.  I understand what a stout is -- but what's an eepah?"

He burst into laughter.  "It's 'eye pee aye'," he said, when he finally managed to collect his wits back about himself.  "It stands for 'India Pale Ale'."

I felt everything grow still in me as my body threw its entire effort of existence into making every nodule of my skin turn dark red; I could even feel my scalp get tight.  "Oh," I said, grinning -- but somewhere between rather embarrassed and mortified.  "Ha ha."  (I'd noticed the periods between the letters, but it still didn't click).  "I'd like to try that, please."

He took our order and walked away, still laughing, muttering, "Eepah -- !" as he walked away.  As he went back to the kitchen area, I heard him say to his friends, "Oh -- you gotta hear this." (Somewhere, he's probably still telling that story.)

Fast forward several years, to another McMenamis here in Portland.  Picture it -- a beautiful sunny summer day, a lovely vine-sheltered patio, good friends, good ambiance, good humor, good spirits, good food, good beer.  "I really like dark beers," I said to my friend.  "The darker the better." (Not so much now; I'm more of an 'eepah' kind of gal, though reds and dark ales are swell, too).  A server walked by with a tray of drinks.  "Like that one," I said, pointing to a pint glass filled with a dark brown substance and topped with a creamy frothy head.  "What is that?" I asked.

The server (another guy, actually), having heard my comment, blinked, and said, "It's our root beer."

Reinfusing with the same blush as described above I said, "Oh, haha.  I knew that.  I was just testing you...."

"Right," he said, laughing.

(My brother and father and best friend, as the good enemies that they are, have never let me live either of those things down, given I made the mistake of telling them about the root beer, and having them present with the 'eepah' fiasco).

I'm proud to say I'm far better-schooled now (thankfully).

At least I didn't ask what the "ab-vee" content was.