Thursday, August 31, 2006

Hallelujah!

Guess what? No longer will you have to read our nagging about this freakin' Pheasant McNuggets Contest because it's officially over. Yippee! Of course, now you have to put up with us nagging you to vote.

How do we vote? I hear you ask. Simple. You can email your vote or you can visit the Uber Etc. Yahoo group and vote in the poll. Voting will close September 18 and the winners will be announced September 20. [Note: A kind reader pointed out that the poll feature couldn't be accessed at the group. We're dorks and forgot to make that open to members. It's fixed now. Vote away!]

You know what to do. Check out the entries below to refresh your memory and then vote. Git to it.

Entry 1 - wrightmel@aol.com

Entry 2 - Carla Capizzi

Entry 3 - Zero

Entry 4 - Linda

Entry 5 - M Roberts

Entry 6 - phair

Entry 7 - S. Berry

Entry 8 - Jo Dunning

Entry 9 - Julie

Entry 10 - Cherokee Echols

Entry 11 - Sandy

Entry 12 - Hope

Entry 13 - Molly M

Entry 14 - Sigma

Entry 15 - Aries

Entry 16 - Beth

Entry 17 - gail

Entry 18 - Wendy

Tamara

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Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 18

The fun continues to roll on. Another splendid person steps up to the plate. Enjoy it, I certainly did.
I guess before I tell my story I should introduce myself. My name is Wendy and I have been following the Xenaverse since its creation. When I found online fiction I was in heaven. I thought "Finally some others who think there is something more than friendship between X & G." I get my daily fix here at UberEtc and several other places. But alas..you asked for food horror stories, not a ramble.

I have worked many odd jobs while putting myself through school. Cook at a restaurant was one of them, actually that's where I met my wife of 6 1/2 yrs :) so I pride myself at being a decent cook. Usually I am.

One day I decided to fix dinner so that my better half wouldn't have to cook when she got home from work. I decided that I would fix "Cube steak and gravy". Or maybe called country style steak and gravy...depends on the region in which you live. This calls for the meat to be seasoned and dredged in flour and then pan fried. So I did the seasoning, and dredged the meat in what I thought was flour. i fixed dinner and left for work (my mistake was not tasting it first). I got home at midnite and the wife was in bed. I asked how dinner was...her answer "a little strange, but I was so hungry that it didn't matter." I was thinking, I know she has eaten this before. I fixed my plate and sat down to eat. One bite was all it took to know that I had confused the flour and the powered sugar. The cube steak was sweet! and GROSS!!!. Upon questioned later, the good wife that she is replied, "I ate it because you took the time to fix it!" Bless her soul!!

Hope you enjoyed.

Wendy


This one made me giggle. Thanks, Wendy! One more day and then voting time begins. Until then enjoy your updates.

And to all of you have a great evening and thanks.

Elisa

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Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 17

Hot diggity dog we got another ramble.
I've only recently found your site and have been entertained with the stories of the trials and tribulations of cooking. I hesitated, but guess I'll send you my own sorry tale!

I had just moved into my first apartment and was hosting my first Thanksgiving with my brother and sister. With the exception of the turkey, it was my job to do all the cooking - squash, mashed potatoes, creamed onions, all the favorites of my family. When it came time to mash the potatoes, I made a slight error in judging the amount of milk to use and the potatoes ended up 'slightly' runny. So, me being the novice, I listened to my older brother who simply said "Add some flour to thicken 'em up". Needless to say, it was the last time I ever listened to him and his cooking advice! No potatoes with dinner, and it's a favorite story to be told time and again whenever I'm with my family!

Then there's the time I was making biscuits and meant to double the recipe, but ended up quadrupling it...

~gail


Ooh. Flour to the mashed potatoes. I'm glad you don't listen to your brother when it comes to cooking. Although...you might have been able to turn those mashed taters into potato pancakes with the addition of an egg or two. Seems like that's what I remember my grandma doing whenever she'd make them.

I just have one question...what do creamed onions taste like? I've had creamed corn but have never been faced with the choice of whether or not to try creamed onions. I must admit, the idea of creamed onions scares me a bit.

Tamara

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Monday, August 28, 2006

Monday moves past quickly....

Perhaps some of you are waffling on the idea of sending us something fun to share with everyone. Well, the opportunities are fading fast. We'll be posting a poll at our fabulous Yahoo group for all those who would like to vote on their favorite horrible food experience stories. Also we'll gladly take emails from those who prefer that method, but not until September 1st. We'll remind you again when the polls are open.

Until then, the opportunity to get one, two, or even three more rambles in still exists. So come and offer all of us your fantastic food experiences. Remember that a few lucky folks (once you all respond to our calls for votes) will be recieving some fantastic fiction titles.*

  *Please note these are used books and aren't favorites of either Tamara or myself. However, like art, good fiction is in the eye of the beholder so some of these books may become prized possessions of the lucky winners.

Until then enjoy these splendid updates.

Elisa

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Sunday, August 27, 2006

Happy B-day to the Lord of Chaos

Four years ago today I was in a lot of pain. The pain was worth it because it left me with a sometimes stubborn but very sweet little boy. Oh...and a killer case of hemorroids but the less said about that the better.

Today is Cal's birthday and we spent the afternoon at a pizza joint that specializes in games and places to play. Not Chuck E. Cheese's thank goodness. We went to the Incredible Pizza Company. It's still a franchise but their pizza is much better and it's large enough you can avoid the play areas if you try.

Now I'm busy putting together Spongebob Lego sets. Yes, I know four is too young for Lego but these were totally cool. And he loves Spongebob. And I love toys.

Enjoy the update and I'll enjoy reading directions....

Tamara

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Saturday, August 26, 2006

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

We started this site with that idea in mind but wanted to take it a step further. Tamara and I are proud of what we've accomplished in a short period of time. We have a steady base of folks who day after day visit the site. The idea that we're consistant and thorough when it comes to searching for F/F fiction on the net keeps the number of visitors growing daily.

For that we thank you, the reader. We may from time to time miss a night, however in the long run you count on our updates regularly. An update list is only as good as the updaters' ability to be consistant and to seek more. Regardless of our rambles or other tidbits of life we throw at you, in the end it's the updates that are the main reason each of you will keep coming back.

The ability for us to grow depends on you. If you ever find a site we don't check please let us know and we'll check it out as well. We want to thank each of you for your comments, feedback and daily returns. We appreciate them because that's what makes it all worth it.

Elisa

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Friday, August 25, 2006

Bummer

The mystic power of the Kool-Aid ramble is gone. No longer can I trust that a Pheasant McNuggets Contest story will appear in my email on E's days to update. *sigh* Oh well. I'm glad she finally got to post it. Not too shabby that she wrote the Kool-Aid ramble on the 4th and its power to draw entries lasted until yesterday. I think when I start my Holy Church of Quizilla the Kool-Aid ramble will be among our sacred texts.

August still has a few days left so if you haven't sent your food horror story, you've still got time. Keen, huh?

Tamara

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Thursday, August 24, 2006

The Kool-Aid Ramble

You know food can also mean beverage. At least in my world it can. One of my earliest memories of a mishap with food is learning as a teenager that my mother was wrong. As a small child they finally figured out after months of vomiting that I had some intolerance to milk. Hence I survived by juice and water for many years.

As I got older, I think around 7 or so, I started going to my friends' houses to play. When I was there I was offered Kool-Aid. Now mind you, in the early '70s in my neck of the woods this was the drink of choice for most children. However, I was an oddball because every time I was served this drink in a glass of ice it tasted way too sweet.

What's so odd is that I drank gallons of the stuff at home. All those different flavors and colors were wonderful. I loved making it in our nifty glass pitcher that was shaped just like the Kool-Aid mascot. It was grand.

All was good until one afternoon when my mom left on some errand and had forgotten to make a pitcher. The babysitter decided to make it for us. She went on to open a nifty pack of black cherry, one of my favorites, and poured it into the cool water in the pitcher. I started stirring, happily waiting for my first taste.

Then came the shocking revelation as she went to pour a large amount of sugar into the pitcher. I screamed wanting to know what she was doing to my juice. She stood there stunned, holding the cup of sugar. Once she'd figured out why I was coming unglued, she explained to me that Kool-Aid needed sugar. I didn't believe her so she showed me the directions, reading them carefully and shattering my view of my mother's ability for years to come.

To this day I don't drink Kool-Aid--with or without sugar. Actually I think perhaps I've had it ten times total since that fateful day. Water is my drink of choice now...simple, easy and abundant.

One more reminder before I let you all rush off to the updates, don't forget we have a nifty low volume Yahoo group where these wonderful updates and rambles can be sent directly to your email for ease and convience.

Elisa

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Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 16

Here's one from the person who inspired this contest. Keen.
Exploding Muffins

At various times in my life, someone has decided to prove to me that I am not cursed when it comes to the kitchen.

My cousin Annie gave it a go back when I was in college. She was Super Mom and decided we'd make muffins -- despite my protests.

We used a tried and true recipe of hers that she used often. I have no idea what went in it other than the usual baking stuff, and we poured it into the muffin pan and went off to play with her kids for a few minutes.

The oven timer dinged, and Annie sent me to check on "our" muffins, which I did. She didn't believe me when I came back and told her they had exploded in the oven.

She hauled me back in to the kitchen, figuring that the muffins had just risen over the sides of the pan or some such, but when she opened the oven door she saw that not only were the muffins not overflowing the pan, but there was hardly any batter left in the pan because it was all dripping off the ceiling of the oven.

To this day, we have no idea what caused the carnage, but Annie did let me slide on any further cooking lessons.

Beth


I can just see Beth walking into the room and informing her cousin, totally deadpan, that the muffins exploded. I'd like to say you've got an anti-cooking aura around yourself, Beth, but I know the sloppy joes turned out great so it can't be that.

I must tell y'all that every time E is set to update and use her Kool-aid ramble we've always gotten another entry for the Pheasant McNuggets Contest. I told her it's our magic charm. I'm wondering if the charm will work again because this time my night got the surprise contest ramble. Don't let me down. Make me believe in the mystic power of the unused Kool-aid ramble. Send us your scary food story for tomorrow's update.

Tamara

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Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 15

Yep, one more entry has arrived. Please enjoy it and remember to let these folks know what you think.
Ze's the writer in our family but she persuaded me to send you a ramble because she said you were desperate for some. So I thought I'd tell you of my misadventures with pizza and why it's important to specify exactly what you mean by 'plenty'.

I was at college and my cousin was coming to visit me. She'd been really good to me over the years and I wanted to cook something special for her. Nowadays I do most of the cooking because I'm quite good at it since I took a Cordon Vert cooking class. That's like Cordon Bleu but for vegetarians. But at the time I lived on take out or meals sent by my room-mate's mother who was a first-class cook and I didn't have any idea how to cook for myself.

My room-mate was half Italian and her mother had a genuine Neoploitan pizza recipe that was to die for so I asked if she'd share it. She did and in her slightly accented English she told me exactly what to do and emphasised that the important things were lots of kneading of the dough and lots of olive oil. She said that twice - use plenty of olive oil.

I assembled all the ingredients and got to work. It all went really well and I was pleased. I remembered her advice about the olive oil, I put plenty in the dough - it made it a bit sticky but I worked it well. And I drizzled it over the finished pizza. I was worried though. I had a half-litre bottle and it was still half-full - maybe I didn't use enough. I poured the rest of the bottle over the pizza to make sure of it and put it in the oven.

My cousin arrived just as the timer rang to tell me it was done. She told me she loved pizza and sat down to enjoy it.

The brown, crisp discus I took from the oven looked nothing like any pizza I'd ever seen. I'm sure could have thrown it Xena style against the wall and caught it on the rebound undamaged. It had fried to a biscuit rather than baked.

My cousin, bless her heart sat down and ate it. Telling me that anything cooked with that much love had to be worth eating. It took her quite a time as it was very difficult to cut and almost impossible to chew. She did it though.

I've cooked many excellent meals since that day, most of which she's eaten and enjoyed but I do wonder if that's the reason she doesn't eat pizza anymore.

Aries


LOL Sorry, Aries, but I'm not sure I would have been that polite. As for being 'desperate' for new rambles... if that gets folks to send them, then yes, we're desperate! We're very pleased with the responses we've gotten so far on the contest and I hope y'all have enjoyed them as much as we have.

Now on to the updates, enjoy.

Elisa

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Monday, August 21, 2006

I really like thunderstorms.

Good thing too because I live in Oklahoma and we get our fair share of them. This past Saturday evening we had a doozy of a storm. Lots of lightning, thunder, wind and rain. It was great. What wasn't so great was when lightning caused our transformer to blow and knocked our power out from around 11 pm until 5 am.

The kids were a little freaked out but we got everyone settled in to sleep after the novelty of waving flashlights around wore off. Sleep for the adults was a little tougher because this time of year we have the air conditioner on 24 hours a day. True the thunderstorm had cooled the temps off a bit but once it left we were treated to absolute stillness and humidity. Nasty, sticky humidity. The kind that makes you get up from the bed at 2 am because the person next to you is putting out too much heat. I ended up on the couch which was a tiny bit better but not by much. Mike and I both had a night of crappy sleep.

By the morning our power was back on and that air conditioner was doing its usual bang up job. I thought all was well. Boy...was I wrong. That lovely burst of electricity fried our vcr/dvd burner in the bedroom. The computers were off in the computer room but our battery backups were inexplicably dead. Duncan's computer's power supply was toast and our wireless network router was acting all wonky. Oh...and our phone line was dead.

I spent Sunday morning purchasing new battery backups and a new router. We went to the movies that afternoon (kids and mom: The Ant Bully, Mike and I: Little Miss Sunshine--both movies got big thumbs up from their respective audiences) so Mike didn't get to mess with computer hook ups until that evening. I'm at a complete loss when it comes to messing with why a computer won't work. I can't even remember how big the hard drive on my machine is and E has to correct me every time I use 'computer box' in place of 'cpu'.

Mike is very methodical--maddeningly so at times--and when he finally got the router working properly he discovered that my network card's connector wasn't. That, of course, meant no online time for me that evening. Damn good thing I had that new cell phone.

Today I went and purchased a new network card and hopefully that will allow me to get online some time tonight. If Mike doesn't get stuck in methodical mode...which he probably will. After he gets all this sorted out the poor guy still has to figure out what the heck is going on with our phone line. AT&T's system says everything is fine on their end and I have a bad feeling the electrical surge fried something that will end up being our responsiblity to have fixed. Oh well. Once again that new cell phone comes in handy. I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about dunking the old one in the toilet.

Tamara

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Sunday, August 20, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 14

The end of the weekend is upon us. I want to thank all of you who have shared your stories so far with us. It truly has been splendid and appreciated. We have 10 more days left to fill so keep sending them in folks.

Luckily tonight another brave person has stepped up and shared a bit of their memories with us. Enjoy it.
Hey, I'm a reader not a writer, but I couldn't resist sharing this story:

When I was young, my mother decided that she wanted to make our desserts more healthy by using less shortening. She tried everything. We had goose-fat snickerdoodles (not bad), applesauce brownies (not so great), that sort of thing.

Well, one day, we were having a get-together at our house for a few close friends, and my mom made some brownies as a snack. But she didn't use butter. She didn't even use applesauce. No, she used prunes.

Prunes. I kid you not.

They were very nice and moist brownies--but they tasted horrible! Even she agreed that they weren't so good (and she'll eat anything), so we were subtly encouraging the guests to eat something else by casually mentioning to everyone that these particular brownies were made with prunes.

It was working great, until one of the last families arrived. The father, who absolutely loved sweets despite being rail-thin, saw the brownies and immediately popped one into his mouth.

I will never forget his face as he got the first taste. He was far too polite to simply spit it out, so he slowly chewed and swallowed, desperately trying not to let us know exactly how awful it was. We did promise him never to use prunes again, but from then on, whenever my mom baked something he would reach for it, freeze, then cautiously inquire as to EXACTLY what she'd put in it this time.

His pain did have one great effect, though: my mom finally gave in and started to use normal ingredients after that!

-Sigma


This one I'm sure hits home with a lot of us, but luckily for most it was not taken quite this far. Well...learning is something we do in life and it seems lots of knowledge was gained by this particular event for many of the individuals involved. Thanks again for sharing Sigma.

Okay now, off to updates we have some unique ones tonight, so enjoy them.

Elisa

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Saturday, August 19, 2006

The Great Cell Phone Saga

I am addicted to my cell phone. I didn't used to be. I was one of those sane people who only used my cell phone occasionally. I blame it on my best friend living over a thousand miles away. E even switched cell phone companies so we could get those talk free minutes. She's a good best friend.

Anyway...being on the phone more means I talk on it while doing things around the house--washing clothes, dishes, tidying, etc. One evening I was talking to E using my phone and my corded ear piece. I won't go into how many of these damn things I've been through. They don't like getting caught on something in passing and then being ripped out of the phone. It puts shorts in them...imagine that. I kind of found a way around that when I started carrying my cell phone in my cleavage while using the ear piece. It looked funny but worked.

Okay. Back to my saga. I was chatting with E and also happened to be taking care of a bodily function (I was peeing). While completing that task my hand got caught in the cord and I knocked my phone in the toilet. Yeah, I didn't have it in my cleavage safe spot. Sadly this happened after I'd finished my business.

Since I didn't own a waterproof phone it immediately stopped working. I took it apart after rinsing it off and left it to dry overnight. I was hoping a miracle would occur and it would work but, as you might have guessed, it didn't. I had a dead phone. Being addicted to my cell phone I knew I had to bite the bullet and get a new phone.

My contract wasn't due to be up any time soon, hence I didn't get that nifty price break on my new phone. And I decided this time I wasn't going to mess with any of those damn cords so I invested in a bluetooth compatible phone. I left that store several hundred dollars poorer but I was now equipped with the tools to keep my phone from taking a refreshing dip in the toilet.

Am I happy with my new phone? Heck yeah. I was so pleased with it I did something I've never done. I paid for ringtones. I can now get calls and be treated to 'Over the Rainbow' or 'We're Off to See the Wizard.' You can't get any better than Judy letting you know someone is calling. I was bummed they didn't have the theme song from the Gidget television show online but a co-worker of E's clued me in how to make my own Gidget ring tone. It's way keen. Now to do the same thing for The Venture Brothers theme song....

Tamara

p.s. The ramble above means we've exhausted our supply of Pheasant McNugget Contest entries. There are 31 days in the month of August so we've got plenty of days left for more bad food rambles. Send them please. We love reading them.

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Friday, August 18, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 13

Good evening. Tonight we have another fun entry for you all. We realize that the updates are what is important, however it sure has been fun reading all these memories that folks have shared. I hope more of you join in soon.
My best memory of my mother, the Home Economist, in the kitchen was when she made us be a "test family" for recipes trying to be included in the River Roads Cookbooks for the Junior League. Yes, cookbook is plural. Now, to give a little background for y'all to understand, three families had to taste test the recipe and grade it on a sliding scale (great to terrible) before it could be considered for the cookbook. Of course, only great reviews by all would get in the book. So for months, we were eating bizarre stuff, especially to a kid, some good and some not. My mom, who was also a chemist at Exxon, got this one recipe for stewed chicken and dumplings where the tsp & tbsp (teaspoon & tablespoon) measurements were reversed on the seasonings. Thinking that it was incorrect, she called the woman that sent in the recipe to ask. Getting confirmation that it was indeed correct, my mom made it as written, since that was one of the rules. OMG! It looked and smelled good so everybody dug into it. Suddenly, dead silence around a usually rowdy dinner table. My mother, being the southern lady that she was, discreetly used her napkin to dispose of the bite, then quietly told us to do the same. Thank God for paper napkins! The plates were taken back to the kitchen without a word being said. The dog wouldn't eat it either. We made quick peanut butter sandwiches instead. The next night, she made it again but changed the measurements. Imagine our horror! Nobody touched their plates till they saw her eating it! I don't think that one made it in the book, but I never looked for it. To this day, I have never made chicken & dumplings. On the other hand, Mom's family recipe for Snickerdoodles made the cut so we were happy.

The second time wasn't as bad. We had more party type foods to taste. My favorite memory is about the green party salad. This recipe uses lime & lemon Jell-O, cheddar cheese, pineapple bits, cottage cheese, and a few other things. Mom made it for a family party we were hosting. Why not have a few more tasters, right? The adults wouldn't touch it, but all the kids gave it a shot just cause of the colors. WOW! It looked horrible, but it was good. Finally got some of the adults to taste it and they enjoyed it once their eyes were closed. We gave this recipe a "thumbs up for flavor, thumbs down on presentation". I think it made it in the book, but I make it every MardiGras just for the colors.

Molly M


Thanks for sharing, Molly. Some of those sounded more interesting than others. I must mention I always skip on anything that has the word dumplings in it and this includes those other foods that have different names but mean dumplings (humbows, dim sum etc...).

Now off to the updates. Enjoy.
Elisa

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Thursday, August 17, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 12

I'm really pleased by the response we've had to this whole Pheasant McNuggets Contest. Thanks to everyone who has responded to nagging and sent a story. Speaking of that...here's another one. Enjoy.
I am a really good cook. Most folk who cook well seldom like to acknowledge it--not me... I am a kitchen artist! It's not that I've never made a cooking faux pas, I have just never served the mistake, thus, in my mind, I am perfect....

Given my self-ordained perfection, one might wonder what this tale entails--well, it's about what my family asserts is my problem. Often, I cook only one food--over, and over, and over... This quirky foible holds true today, but it all began when I was in 8th grade....

I am the oldest of four. My mother--Mother Dear--was always adamant that I was responsible for taking care of my siblings. Therefore, she made sure that if something happened to her, I was capable of doing everything to take care of my siblings. At the top of the list was cooking. I began helping my mother in the kitchen when I was in 5th grade, so by the time that I was in 8th grade, I could prepare almost anything for dinner that my mother did.

My 8th grade year was the year that my mother was finishing her Master's degree. Even given the demands of teaching fulltime, my mother was never absent from our daily lives. We did our chores, but she never expected us to do more because she worked and attended school. Still, with even the best plans, there comes a point when there is simply not enough time to accomplish everything that one might wish in a day. The break point for my mother came at the end of the spring semester. My mother had one test and her thesis project left to complete with three days to do everything. On Wednesday before the Friday that she would finish, she talked with me.

"Bille!"

"Yes, Mother Dear! I'm coming."

I ran from my bedroom to the family room, which is in the front of the house. My mother was sitting in her customary place on the end of the sofa.

"Bille, for the next three nights I'm going to need your help." My mother looked at me intently as she spoke.

"Yes. Of course, Mother Dear."

"For the next three nights I have to concentrate on completing the final work for my degree. I have to go to the campus library after school for the next three days. Do you think that you could prepare something for dinner the next three nights?"

As I listened to my mother my heart started pumping really fast. I had never prepared dinner alone before. I knew how important getting her Master's degree was to my mother and I wanted to do anything that would help her.

"I can cook, Mother Dear. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine."

I said this with an assurance that I didn't feel. Although I always thought that I could prepare dinner myself, I had never had to prove it. But, I would worry about it tomorrow. At that moment, I simply needed to allay any fears that my mother had about leaving dinner to me. Although she had just said that she needed help, I could tell by the slight frown on her forehead that she was worried. Because she asked me to cook, I knew that she really needed the extra time; hence, I wanted her to take it.

"Ok Bille, dinner will be your job for the next few days--I know that you'll do just fine" my mother said as she smiled at me.

As I listened and watched my mother, I let out the breath that I didn't even realize that I was holding. Her smile let me know that she trusted that I could and would take care of dinner for her--I would not let her down.

The next day at school I could barely concentrate. All I could think about was the endless dinner possibilities. For once, I would get to choose dinner. Although I typically helped with dinner every day, if I didn't know what we were preparing, my mother would never tell me. In fact, I learned not to ask because her answer to my query of "What's for dinner?" was always the same--"Hog ass and cornbread". There would be no hog ass on that day!

Typically, we had three things at dinner--some kind of meat, rice, and some vegetable. Although the meat and the vegetable changed, we almost always had rice. So, I thought, "I'll prepare rice and pork-n-beans and pork chops.... Yeap, that would be great! I love pork chops and pork-n-beans are my favorite." Then I remembered that although my sister Dayson who is eleven months younger than me, would eat pork-n-beans, she really didn't like them. I didn't want to prepare anything that my siblings didn't want to eat. The house rule was that if one didn't want what was being prepared for dinner, then there would be no snacking or eating until the next meal, no matter when the next meal. We all knew the rule and we knew not to waste time whining about what we did or didn't want to eat. My siblings would know that this rule held true even in my mother's absence. Still, I wanted everyone to like dinner. Dayson loves cream style corn, but I hated it so I was definitely not going to prepare that. So, all day as I tried to concentrate on algebra and Louisiana history among other courses, I thought about what I would prepare. As I moved from class to class I continued to think about what to prepare for dinner. Then as I sat in my 7th period class, it came to me. Although my mother always cooked three things, it didn't mean that I had to.... So, what could I prepare that my 3 year old sister, Sassy, my 8 year old brother, and Dayson, my 12 year sister would eat with no complaints? I knew what to prepare. Dinner would be easy and nutritious and good!

Because my mother was always adamant that my siblings listen to me, that they understand that when she was away, I was in charge, the next three days passed with no incident. After I finished preparing our meal we all sat down together and everyone ate all of their dinner. The only slight hitch was that Friday, we all had to walk to the grocery before I cooked because cooking so much meant we ran out, but it was a fun walk with no incident. I was pleased to help my mother and my siblings all seemed to enjoy dinner--or at least no one complained, so I was happy.

My mother finished her work on Friday, so Saturday afternoon marked a return to my mother's cooking. Like always, I chopped seasoning vegetables--white onions, shallots, green bell pepper, garlic, and celery--as my mother stirred the makings of a roux. I had just finished chopping everything and was about to dump everything in the pot as my mother directed when my brother ran into the house from outside.

"Hey, Mother Dear!" he said as he hugged her around her waist.

"Hi, Man. Did you have fun outside? Are you hungry?" My mother asked as she returned my little brother's hug.

"Yes, Mother Dear, I had fun outside."

"Well go and wash your hands and then sit down and cool off a bit. Dinner won't be long" my mother said.

My little brother looked at my mother then said, "I'll wash my hands, but I don't want any dinner, I"ll wait for breakfast tomorrow."

Given that dinner was the last meal of the day, my brother knew that he would have to wait for breakfast if he didn't want to eat dinner--according to the house rule. Nevertheless, my mother looked at my brother in consternation. "Emile III (pronounced, Emile the third), why wouldn't you want dinner?"

Emile III looked at me and sighed. "I don't know, Mother Dear, I just don't want any more French Fries", my brother said.

"What are you talking about? What did you have for dinner yesterday?"
"French fries."

"What did you have with the French fries, Man?" my mother asked.

"Kool-Aid."

"No, Emile III, what did you have with the French fries? Did you have hot dogs, or hamburgers or sausage?"

"No, Mother Dear", my little brother said shaking his head negatively, "we didn't have any of that stuff."

"What did you have for dinner the other nights that I wasn't at home?"

"French fries and Kool-Aid, Mother Dear. My brother said this with a big smile. And, I ate all of my dinner every night too Mother Dear, but I just don't want any more French fries right now, so I'll wait and have waffles for breakfast tomorrow."

"Don't worry Man", my mother said to my brother. "We're having your favorite, speghetti and meatballs."

"Really?!"

"Yes, Man. Now go and wash your hands."

When my brother left the room, my mother looked at me shaking her head. "Bille did you only cook French fries every night?"

"Yes, Mother Dear. We all like French fries." I said.

"Every night?! With nothing else?!"

"Yes, Mother Dear, but I made sure that everyone had enough. You always say that it's important that we all eat enough vegetables. So, I thought that surely we'd get enough if we all ate potatoes every night. And you know how much Sassy loves French fries."

"Well, what did Dayson, say to French fries every night?" My mother asked this as she looked at me shaking her head.

"Uhmm, she didn't say anything Mother Dear. She just ate dinner." I wasn't quite sure why mother would think that Dayson might not want French fries; we all love them.

As I looked at my mother she just started to laugh and laugh. I wasn't quite sure why she was laughing, but I started to laugh too. My mother though, removed the pot of roux from the fire and sat down in a chair at the kitchen table and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. When she finally stopped laughing, she got up from the table and hugged me.

"Bille, she said, I really appreciate your taking care of your siblings. I'm glad that everyone ate all of their dinner. Still, maybe in the future--if you are preparing dinner--you might consider green leafy vegetables--you know, a small tossed salad, maybe--and protein of some sort.... And, maybe not the same thing every night." My mother said with a smile.

"Ok, Mother Dear."

Later as we all ate dinner, my mother asked my siblings why they hadn't suggested that I cook something different. They all looked at her and said, "Because we like French fries!--just not as much as Bille!"

I wish that I could say that the French fry incident was the last time that I only cooked one thing over and over and over, but well, it isn't. But the French fries are simply the first and most notorious time. Now, if I volunteer to prepare dinner, everyone wants to know what I will cook in addition to the French fries. I just smile and I say: "I cooked French fries for three days, but you all ate them!"

We all laugh and sometimes my youngest sister, Sassy can't help noting, "Your French fries are always the best Bille--you can fry potatoes for me whenever you want!"

Hope


Let me tell you...Cal would have been right at home during those nights of french fries for dinner. Take a little time to thank Hope for sending a ramble. We love reading these stories and it would be great to let these brave souls know that you like them too.

A wee bit of hype before I let you get to tonight's updates. Jo Dunning aka Lessa has a nifty new web site. Check it out if you get a chance: homepages.paradise.net.nz/dragonsi/lessa/index.html.

Tamara

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Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Pheasant McNuggets Contest Entry 11

Yep, you read that title right. One very splendid entry appeared in my inbox, folks. Enjoy it, I certainly did!
I hate the kitchen. I break out in hives if I have to get ice out of the freezer for drinks. But the kitchen hates me even more. Like a good southern woman I was boiling water to make iced tea (we're crazy and proud) and the pan burnt my water. To this day I haven't figured that one out.

One year my partner's family was over for Christmas and she decided to make a huge breakfast. She decided to take her life (and that of her kin) into her hands and asked me to make the biscuits. Out of a can. After getting the calamine lotion for the hives and slathering myself from head to toe I said yes.

So the pink Butch enters the kitchen reads the directions and decides "I can do this." So I preheated the oven to 350 degrees, got a nonstick pan, broke open the can, put biscuits exactly 2 inches apart and popped them into preheated oven. I was very proud of myself . I even remembered to wash my hands so the dough wouldn't have pink all over them. Set the timer for 12 minutes. At exactly 12 minutes I checked the biscuits and they looked a little too white. So I counted "1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi" etc. until I got to 60. Checked again. Beginning to look good at this point. "1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi" etc.

Quick slather of pink stuff, wash hands quickly, "60 Mississippi" and viola them hunks of dough are brown. I take them out of oven, remove one and put it on the plate and heard a terrible sound of rending ceramic. I look around the kitchen and wondered "What the hell was that?" Turn back around and the plate is broken. Go figure. At this point I have not touched the little round doughboys from hell. Frankly I was scared . I figured they haven't exploded let's not tempt fate.

So in comes my Great Dane and I decide to sneak her a biscuit. Actually I figured if she lived it would be safe to give them to my partner's kin (I do kinda like them). As you know Great Danes are rather large dogs. My girl (LuLu was her name) was 225 pounds. Popping a biscuit into her mouth was like watching a Rolaids disappear. Until she spit it back out and hit my kneecap and I heard the snap of cartilage. Mine to be exact.

As I am rolling around the kitchen floor clutching my knee and screaming like a girl (ewwww) everybody runs to the kitchen to see what that strange noise is. Of course I must uphold the images of Butches everywhere and I begin to laugh. Of course, seeing a pink blob rolling around the kitchen floor is kinda funny. Until my partner screams "Are you trying to kill the dog?" You see, LuLu was spitting for all she's worth and from a Dane that's an awful lot of spittle. I thought I was going to have to call Service Master for a water extraction.

Needless to say breakfast was biscuitless. My partner kissed my knee and made it all better and the dog finally quit spitting and pawing her face by New Year's day. My dog forgave me by my birthday...in May.

So my partner put a gate up in the doorway to the kitchen. I can't get under it and I need a ladder to get over it. Did I mention she put a lock on it and has hidden the key?

I've lost a lot of weight in seven years.

Sandy


I want to thank Sandy for sharing her story. One can only be glad that others didn't have a camera handy as they walked into that kitchen. Memories in the head will have to be enough.

Okay now who's next? Join the fun and send us your story.

Now on to the updates. Enjoy.

Elisa

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Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Back to School

School starts tomorrow and even this agnostic can say, "Thank God!" The kids met their teachers today. That took all of fifteen minutes and then I was faced with the fact that I needed to kill 45 until the Pre-K orientation meeting. I wimped out. I asked the teacher (the same one Duncan had when he went to Pre-K) if the material she was covering was pretty much the same. It was and I was given permission to pick up my packet and skip the meeting. Yippee!

Duncan's fifth grade teacher this year is new to our school but not new to teaching (thank goodness). I have high hopes that she'll be good at the discipline thing. My eldest has a chatting problem so I warned her not to sit him next to his good pal Ryan who is also in the class. It's a lost cause though. Duncan will chat with anyone and routinely get in trouble for it.

Cal is pumped about going to school. I think he'll do well when it comes to the academic stuff. I'm a wee bit worried about him getting in trouble for singing songs and replacing the words with fart and/or butt. Or put any other scatalogical term in there and you've got something that gives Cal great pleasure. We've been warning him for the past couple of weeks about what he can and can't say at school. I fully expect that color card to be changed many more times than it ever was for Duncan.

Tomorrow I have a blissful 2 1/2 hours all to myself in the afternoon. I am so looking forward to it.

Now for the public service announcement portion of tonight's update. Remember we have a Yahoo group that allows you to get these spiffy updates sent to your inbox. And...last but certainly not least, send us your bad food experience stories! We've got a lot of August left and we'd love to post more rambles for the contest.

Tamara

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Monday, August 14, 2006

Ramble from Linda

Tonight a slight diversion from food, but fun nonetheless. We're fortunate to once again be sharing words from Linda.
Getting the girls ready for school

Well, I now know what every mother goes through the first of the school year. Back-to-school shopping. I am learning the hard way how to raise my two nieces. This is as close to hell as one can get. LOL

This adventure turned into a three-day event.

DAY ONE: I figured I could get this done in one day. HA!! Never, never take two girls shopping at the same time. I would rather have my teeth drilled. Fifteen minutes into shopping I turned around and took them home.

DAY TWO: Took the fourteen year old shopping first. Ellie was easy. She found one shirt she liked so much she got seven of them in different colors. Then took her to the high school and got her classes. For some reason she decided that seeing how she lives in the desert of the southwest near Mexico she will take French classes. Makes sense!!!???

DAY THREE: Took the seven year old next. Now this was an adventure. I would love to get my hands on the buyers for these stores. Who in their right minds think we should dress our little ones in clothes that only streetwalkers wear? So we had a little fight of wills on this one. I won...barely. Victoria only gave in because I said I wouldn't pay for the clothes she wanted.

She got her revenge later when we were looking at shoes (which I find boring as hell). I was pretty much staring off into space when I hear Victoria say quite loudly for all to hear, "Are you listening to me or have you been distracted by a bright shiny object again?"

Never say anything around a 7 year old that you don't want someday to come back and bite you in the ass. I once said to someone that as a child I was easily distracted by bright shiny objects.

Well I survived my first back-to-school adventure. The girls are ready. I am so ready for them to go to school. Right now they are off for the weekend with their father. I have three days to prepare for the first day of school...getting them up. I am so looking forward to that. Yea, right.

Linda L



Okay, y'all remember to thank Linda and perhaps she'll share more of her family fun with us soon.

Please also remember to send us those food adventures. We're only half through the month and we know there must be a few more tales to be told.

Have a splendid evening and enjoy the updates.

Elisa


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