Okay, I’m the first to admit it looks very much like dog vomit. But it’s a delicious way to dispense with your leftover St. Patrick’s Day feast. Here’s how it’s done:
Dice up a small yellow onion (I suppose any kind would do) and sauté it in a skillet in about a tablespoon or so of olive oil over medium high heat.
Meanwhile, dice up the leftover corned beef and potatoes that you cooked on St. Patrick’s Day. When the onion is tender, toss in the corned beef and potatoes, stirring frequently until lightly browned. Add paprika, salt and pepper to taste. Serve.
This is the day Mr. Cracker dreads each year. He does not share his mate’s Irish-American heritage nor her fondness for corned beef and cabbage, the cooking of which he claims “stinks up the whole house.”
But it’s only once a year, so buck up, buttercup, I say. And even he has to admit the leftover corned beef makes damn good reuben sammiches.
Today, MSNBC published several aerial photos purporting to show members of an Amazon Indian tribe that has never been contacted by the outside world:
Check out all the photos here. While it’s comforting to believe there are human beings on the planet who have never heard of Justin Bieber, a closer examination of photos reveals that the whole thing is a hoax.
Many American children—there’s just no delicate way to put this!—are fat, inert little bastards who will drop dead of heart attacks or succumb to horrendously expensive, difficult-to-manage and painful chronic diseases at an early age if they don’t stop mainlining Redi-Whip to satisfy the sweet tooth toot sweet. Michelle Obama gets this.
Snowflake Snooki? Not so much. Or at least she pretends not to understand that there’s a raging obesity epidemic that threatens to reverse life expectancy gains and bankrupt our already crappy health care system. Here’s a quote from her crappy show Sunday, in which Palin pretends to “camp” with her Juvenile Character props:
“Where are the s’mores ingredients? This is in honor of Michelle Obama, who said the other day we should not have dessert.”
Heh heh henghn! That feisty Sarah sure showed uppity Mrs. Obama!
Of course, Michelle Obama said nothing of the sort—she sponsors a kids’ health initiative that gently suggests parents of children who look like diminutive sumo wrestlers might want to encourage their offspring to be more active and substitute desserts constructed entirely from various forms of sugar and fat with desserts containing fruit.
But to Snowflake Snooki, that suggestion is tantamount to a totalitarian attempt to interfere with parents’ god-given right to funnel marshmallow-coated beef tallow down their kids’ throats. At least she pretends to believe this. For money and possible votes down the road.
Every year around this time, my sister and I get together and crank out dozens and dozens of homemade Christmas cookies for distribution to family, friends and colleagues. Here are some samples of this year’s crop:
Clockwise, they are an iced sugar cookie, red velvet cookie, mocha espresso truffle cookie, coconut macaroon, and, in the center, a buckeye. I think the macaroons are the best of the lot. My sister favors the mocha espresso truffles. My daughter can’t do without the buckeyes, which are a royal pain in the ass to make.
Not pictured but also produced were chocolate chip cookies, raspberry preserve thumbprint cookies, butterscotch chip cookies and peanut butter cookies shaped like reindeer heads with mini-chocolate chips for eyes and noses and pretzels for antlers.
[Note to self: reindeer cookies survive the packaging process about as well as a drugged, hearing-impaired caribou survives an armed episode of Snowflake Snooki’s Alaska. Find an alternative before next December!]
After seeing how viciously Kevin K was attacked for posting a Christmas-themed video, I wondered how a holiday-related cross-stitch would fare. Go on, do your worst, godless heathens—make Baby Jesus cry!
Alternatively, we could share cookie recipes. My sister and I are having our annual martini-drinking and cookie-baking party this weekend, which generally starts well but ends in slurred speech and smoke alarms. If you have any recipes that call for fire extinguisher-foam icing, bring ‘em on!
Every year around this time we gather all of the kids in front of the monitor screens to enjoy Uncle Kevin’s award-winning, one-millisecond-long performance (more details here) in Quentin Tarantino & Robert Rodriguez’s film Grindhouse. Enjoy (unless you don’t like gore—you’ve been warned) and happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
If you don’t dig on swine or have cholesterol issues, kindly avert your eyes from the above photo and do not read this recipe. These pork chops are fried—so help me god!—in a combination of bacon grease and Crisco.
Fry a pound of bacon in a large skillet for breakfast. Save the grease. Add a dollop or two of Crisco to achieve a fat-depth in the skillet of about 1/4 to 1/2 an inch (depending on the thickness of your chops—the grease should be deep enough so they’ll be half submerged). Heat to medium-high.
Place dry ingredients in paper bag. Rinse chops in water, place ‘em in the bag and shake vigorously. Add coated chops to skillet and fry until golden brown on both sides.
While the chops are frying, dump the flour mixture into the trash and flatten the paper bag to serve as a grease-draining platform for the chops once they’re cooked.
Serve with whatever fixings you like. These chops were consumed with steamed fresh green beans tossed with a little Italian dressing.
PS: This sort of cooking earned me my nickname—and subsequent internet pseudonym—from my elitist New Yorker husband.
It was jarring enough that Michele Bachmann trotted out a token black person for her Tea Party Caucus presser , but then onlookers were thoroughly confused when she unhinged her lower jaw and swallowed the baby whole.
This is going to be a weird, weird election season.