Pfunksfoolosophy

There is no seafood I love better than well prepared shrimp. Since I love it so, I have created a lot of recipes. This is one of the easiest and it’s inspired by a Portuguese dish known as “Shrimp Mozambique”.

2 lbs of medium or large shrimp,peeled & deveined  (you can leave the tails intact if you wish. I don’t)

7 medium to large cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1/4 bunch of flat leaf parsley (about 2 T) chopped

4 -5 T of chopped cilantro (remember that flat leaf parsley and cilantro look a LOT alike)

juice of 2 lemons

1/4 cup extra dry vermouth

Kosher salt

Freshly ground pepper

 4 T butter (or more to taste)

Olive oil (use the good stuff)

Saute the garlic in olive oil and butter over medium heat until fragrant (about 2 minutes) then add the shrimp and cook for a minute before adding the cilantro and lemon juice.

As the shrimp starts to turn pink, add the vermouth and cook an additional minute or two to let the alcohol cook off and then add the parsley  and salt and pepper to taste.

You should get a good amount of ‘pan squeezin’s’  as we call ‘em, so have plenty of crusty bread handy to sop it up.

Garnish with scallion  tops if you’re feeling especially creative.

You can make it a main dish by serving it over pasta or rice.

You can also serve it with french fries, which is sometimes how the Portuguese serve Mozambique.

Enjoy!

Welp…here’s the deal: I consulted with a friend who suggested the obvious. Would I have thought of it? Nope, obviously not because I didn’t do it in the first place. What was the solution? Reset my modem. Yep. I feel like a penny. Still, it was great to hear from him–we’d not spoken in some time due to his recent marriage. The wife and I are still getting to know one another and as he’s a former flame, it’s a careful dance. She phoned me for a recipe and I asked her if it was cool to speak with Stephen. She said of course…that is after I gave her the recipe for my shrimp that he loves so much. She loves it too and I taught her how to make  it, but I think she forgets that you have to add a LOT more garlic and cilantro than you think is necessary. The secret ingredient is extra dry vermouth. Me likee to use that a LOT.
I know that Sassy will want the recipe. Maybe I’ll post it later on.
I’m just happy that I can post the regular way now. Whoo HOO!
PLUS, I’ve got to turn the boob tube on…Take Home Chef is on and I think I’m starting to fall for Curtis Stone. Never thought I’d see the day when I would be attracted to a long nosed, blonde Aussie, but there it is. He may be my new boyfriend.
I think it’s because he’s just one chocolate covered cherry away from being a fat guy.
Awww, he’s cute though.
He gets a bit juicy when he’s talking. I’m a sucker for that somehow.
Don’t know why, but I am…there it is.
I have to tell ya, I’m not married to his haircut. Eh…it’s his head, but the process is a bit wacky.
What am I a trip to Hawaii? Well, truth be told I’m not much more than a trip to Harlem…but heck, I’m one funny lady.
SO, you can expect more links and fun stuff and natch, more rambling.

You know my pal Angie over at suncoastscribe.com has been a big help and she was the person who got me into this in the first place…she’s created a monster, that one. Because of her, I’ve been able to seek out other bloggers who just plain make me smile.
RobertaFerguson.com and thesassysoutherner.com have become my faves. You should check them out.
Sassy is a real firecracker and Roberta has this great thing where when you leave a comment it’s like buying her a cocktail.
If comments were booze, she’d be well on her way to a place in rehab.
For once, that’s a good thing.
Unfortunately, since I have to access my blog through different means until I get this glitch in the matrix solved, I’m not sure if you’ll be able to click the links in my posts.
BUT, you CAN check these ladies out and as I discover new and interesting blogs you’ll be able to enjoy them along with me.

Take care…it’s snack time.
(okay, I said that before, but I really mean it this time)

Okay, that was really, really reaching…well, I have to say that since today is a day off for me that I have a lot of ambition.
The room has GOT to get cleaned. I’m sitting at the computer, however. There’s a pile of laundry just waiting to be washed. No matter. Hey, the cable’s still on. That’s a bonus.
Gotta get that news fix before I do anything.
Also, I wanted to share a little something with you.

My friend is in the hospital. He’s in poor health, but he’s been in poor health ever since I’ve known him. Diabetes, high blood pressure, a heart condition, jungle rot from serving in Vietnam, alcoholism and for a time in his life, what we termed ‘reluctant bulimia’. For some reason he was purging what he ate. He didn’t want to, it just happened.
We even did a mock PSA about it. As is my way, I made light of it and his poor health to keep his spirits up. He’s had a rough life due to some crazy ass decisions.
At one time he was a drug addict. Heroin. So, he’s off that, but the booze has been a constant companion.
I went to visit him on Monday and we had a long talk. I made him laugh, which made all of his monitors go haywire for awhile. His blood pressure went up but it leveled off.
He discussed his poor choices healthwise and got some ICU religion.
The guy is smart and funny but there is a part him that’s just given up. I mentioned this and he agreed. He told me that he was going to mend his ways once he got out.
I told him that I would support him in his decisions.
We both know that he will be back to his old tricks…although I have to say he got a nice little scare when the woman in the bed across from him coded and died.
They couldn’t save her. She was slightly older than my friend. She had the same medical issues.
Scared him silly. He kept mentioning it.
So, I gave him a shave, helped him wash up and got him settled.
I also got a real good glimpse of his delicate underparts.
You’re never prepared for that. NEVER.
He’s not a family member and I didn’t want to see HIS member.
There it was, dangling for all the world to see.
I was going to bring him a healthy snack for later, but another person came in and put the kibosh on it. If he had kept his freakin’ mouth shut, I could have brought him in a low carb, low fat, no sodium snack. His blood sugars, while all over the place were in no way going to bring him to ketoacidosis. Friggin’ loud mouth. At least I know what I’m doing.
I listened to part of the conversation when the docs came in…they made me leave during the good bits.
You know, when his primary told him that she didn’t expect him to know what kind of meds he was on, I got pissed. WHY shouldn’t he know? WHY shouldn’t a patient be informed?
That’s ridiculous.
I told him what he was on and what they would do for him.
I can’t stand physicians who act as though they’re the keepers of all knowledge and that you wouldn’t understand because you didn’t go to med school.
Nope, the best doctors are the ones who explain everything and treat you like you’re an intelligent being.
It makes me want to go back to school and become a doctor.
Shame is that I’m too old now…well, to get into a decent medical school.
The kicker about my pal is that he’s in a teaching hospital. They’re supposed to have a bedside manner and explain this shit.
NOT talk over, around and AT him.
THIS is why I don’t like hospitals and THIS is why I tell every person I know to buy a PDR, become educated and informed before they go to a doctor’s appointment.
KNOW what you’re dealing with…a well informed patient is a happy patient.
All of my doctors in the past have treated me like a peer because of it. I’ve received great
assistance and I’ve survived cancer without having to get chemo or have invasive surgery.
Alternative methods are available and if you are informed, you can ask your doc about it.
They may poo poo it, but at least they’ll know that you’re being pro-active.
Remember, it only takes a ‘C’ average to become a physician.
That’s just average. If you think all docs are ‘A’ students, you’re wrong.
Ask. It’s in your best interest.

Hmm….this turned into something different, didn’t it?

Laundry or snack?

What do YOU think?

Keep on truckin’!

You probably don’t know that Loretta Lynn song. It’s one of my favorites. Part of the chorus goes, “You better move your feet if you don’t wanna eat a meal that’s called fist city”.
I love me some Loretta Lynn. She is the toughest country singer around. I think there’s gotta be a black woman inside her, ’cause some of her songs have that attitude. Maybe country folks and black folks (some of us are country) have more in common than people wanna believe, I don’t know. The thing is, the song came to mind the other day and I forgot to tell you about it.

I live in NYC. I see a lot of actors, musicians and the like. I’m not so impressed so, if one of them is in my path of egress or tries to strong arm me, I will push them out of my way. No joke.
Just the other day, I was on the train going to work and guess who was trying to push past me? That woman Andrea from Top Chef. She was wearing some wacky outfit and thick wedgie sandals (of the high heel variety) and she was carrying a bag from Integral Yoga or some such.
Now, everyone pushes and shoves to get on the train. Why? I know not. There’s always going to be another train in roughly five minutes, unless it’s after midnight. I was already at the door. I am nearly 6′ tall. You can’t miss me. She must have thought I was invisible. I am not, I assure you. Anyway, she tried to squeeze by me, thus pushing me against another patron.
I shoved her back and gave her ‘the look’. She smiled sheepishly and I grunted the standard grunt that my family utters when completely over it. I guess it’s not really a grunt–we sorta just go ‘Mm.’ Short and sweet. “Mm” means ‘no way do I buy that sheepish grin’.
She got the message and avoided me. I wasn’t staring at her. I was wearing sunglasses and not looking at her, but every time I did glance over at her, she was looking at me all apologetic-like. Maybe she was having a bad day. I smiled at her.
All was forgiven. Maybe I was having a bad day and feeling entitled.
Sometimes ya just have to cut people some slack. Sure, humanity is going to hell in a handbasket and I can almost guarantee you I’m going with gasoline drawers, but we’re all we’ve got.
Life is not always filled with landmines.
If I can help it, I’m gonna remember that more often.
Got my health, got a roof over my head, a job and loads of lovely love.
What more could I ask for anyway?
Yep, you read my mind: the winning lottery numbers BEFORE they are drawn.
Ah, LIFE!

This is a recipe I’ve tweaked with and I like it well enough. Seems like a lot of ingredients, but it works up pretty quickly.

For graham cracker cake
4 large egg yolks, at room temperature
1 cup sugar
1/3 cup honey
1/4 cup water
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup butter, melted and cooled
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup graham cracker crumbs
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon cream of tartar

Sweet Chocolate Ganache
1 cup heavy whipping cream
8 ounces semi-sweet chocolate
1 tablespoon vanilla extract

Filling
marshmallow cream (in my area it’s Fluff, but you can use Kraft if that’s all you’ve got)

Butter a12×17 jellyroll pan . Line with parchment paper or waxed paper and butter the paper. Beat the egg yolks and sugar until thick. Add the honey, water, oil and butter and mix briefly.
Sift together the flour,graham crumbs, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Stir into the butter miture briefly. I just use a whisk in a bowl instead of using a sifter because of the graham texture.
Beat the egg whites with cream of tartar until soft peaks form. Beat in the sugar until mixture is firm and glossy. Stir a spoonful of the egg whites into the the batter, then stir them together lightly.
Spoon into the baking pan and spread evenly. Bake at 350 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes until top is golden and center springs back when touched. Cool for 5 minutes.
While cake bakes, make chocolate cream. Put the chocolate in a heatproof bowl. Bring the cream to a near boil and pour over the chocolate. Add vanilla extract. Whisk until melted and combined. Refrigerate, whisking occasionally, until cooled. When ready to frost the cake, beat the mixture until it reaches a spreading consistency. (The mixture is too stiff after about 5 hours in the fridge.)
Spread a clean kitchen towel on a work surface and sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar. Invert the cake onto it. Slowly remove parchment.
With a sharp knife, cut a line or groove across the short end of the layer about 1/2 inch from the end nearest you. (The groove lets the cake start start rolling up easily, roll tightly and not crack.) Lift the kitchen towel to start the rolling, then roll up completely. Let it cool for at least 20 minutes and up to a few hours.
Unroll the cake. Spread thickly with marshmallow cream. Roll up and place on a serving platter. Pour ganache over it. Let it set for 30 minutes or so.
I let it set for an hour… you can also refrigerate it for about 45 minutes because when you slice it, it’s a bit gooey.
ENJOY, ladies!

On my way home from work I was noticing the footwear of the other subway patrons.
Some folks, like me, enjoy the sneaker. There are a lot of different types out there and I am leaning towards those nifty lookin’ Pumas. The old school ones that Eddie Murphy used to wear are my faves.
The thing that strikes me…right between the eyes, is the fact that there are a LOT of folks who are in no way ashamed of their feet.
I don’t like to look at feet. Babies have cute feet, but that’s about it. Adult feet are the worst.
They’re like creatures from an alien planet, I tell you.
Men have some really bad looking feet and they display them brazenly in the summer months.
I hate that. One guy had what I like to call ‘tree climbers’. Ever see those shows on National Geographic about some nomadic tribe of people in the Amazon who have to climb trees in order to forage for their food?
Yeah, they’ve got the splayed toes, longish toenails and…*shudder* callouses.
Dude could have sanded down the deck of the Love Boat for cryin’ out loud yet I stared at his pedal extremities for 3 stops. I think my mouth was open.
He wasn’t the absolute worst, though. This woman got on wearing gold toned wedgie flip flops.
She had the yikes foot trifecta goin’ and she had an attitude to make matters worse.
She was flippin’ her hair and fixing her make up and all the while I was wondering if the corn on her pinky toe was another toe that just gave up or a corn.
Nail polish color? A beautifully chipped and weathered burnished copper. I never knew you could get hang skins on your toes. She had cuticle issues. On. Her. TOES.
I’m one to talk. I could use a pedicure, but it’s not to the point where I’m considering making some extra money by using me feet to scrape barnacles off of the boats down in the Hudson.
AND I keeps mah feets covered.
In truth, my feet are okay. Soft as a baby’s bottom for the most part. I’ve never had Summer Feet.
I would cry if that were to happen.
You know, they make a pumice sponge. It’s great. I think I’m going to start carrying extras in my backpack when I ride the train.
Seriously, though…that woman’s pinky toes will haunt me.
There will be NO Taquitos for me tonight.
OR ever, if I can’t exorcise that image from my memory soon.
Hmm… could be a dietary aid.
Wow, are you tellin’ me it’s a win/win AGAIN?
I’m on a roll, kids. Don’t stop me.

The job is not difficult. We all know this, but I wonder about theater people. They’re not too bright, some of them or perhaps they’re just so self absorbed that common sense and common courtesy are foreign concepts to them. An example of this would be that when they arrive early for their booked room, they must remain in the hallway and this causes confusion for some of them. Why? Presumably because there are other patrons using the room. They would like to continue working until it is no longer their turn, as it were.

What happens? That smarmy ‘Oh, I’m a little early would it be possib…no? (feigned heartbreak) Oh. Thanks’. I hate that.

OR, this is my absolute favorite: a gaggle of theater types congregate around in the halls and speak at the top of their lungs about their lives, their likes, dislikes and of course themselves (I should have written ‘theyselves’ but that would have only amused me). When I walk over to them, the terror quickly comes to their eyes…a 6′ black woman. She must mean to do us harm. (It really never ceases to amaze me) I even wrote a little note and tacked it up on the board in the hallway—rather clever as well, quoting Aimee Mann by saying, ‘Hush, hush…keep it down now, voices carry’ and nada…these folks are insane.

Really?

They don’t get it and I don’t have the patience.
But, yet again…it’s fodder for my blog and while I’ve become curmudgeonly lately (let’s blame it on my impending menses) it’s still a gas to complain about people and then reel myself back in.
I am employed. I am happy about that. It’s not a corporate gig.
Whoo hoo! I’d once said that I would blow Hitler not to have to work in a corporate environment again and lookee here…see?
Wait for it–win/win.
Much like Jerry Seinfeld, I usually break even. Who could ask for anything more?

I have to work today and while I’m happy to be employed, I realize that I’ve got little energy.
Maybe it’s because of the heat, maybe it’s because it’s a little exhausting to ride the ‘C’ train
on the weekends…maybe it’s because I’m just a lazy cow today.
Who knows?
The point is, I can’t get out of my own way today.
I’m still in my jammies and it’s nearly two in the afternoon.
Okay, so this post was just about me being lazy.
At least I had enough energy to write something…was it worth you tuning in today?
Probably not, but I promise that once I’m at work I’ll have fuel. And energy.
I’m buying chocolate on my way to work, I can guarantee you that.
Also, I’m going to divulge a favorite recipe.
Get your pens and paper.
Am I just teasing you? You be the judge.
Sorry my column was so out there, but it happens.
It’s Sunday for cryin’ out loud…and I’ve gotta get to work.

Thanks for stopping by…

These past few months have been trying and there have been many times when I’ve wondered aloud if I were Job. Sure, Job had a bit more on his plate than me, but I have such a co-dependent relationship with my family and friends that sometimes I don’t say ‘no’. It isn’t that I can’t say no, it’s that I choose not to and that’s the main challenge.

The straw that came close to breaking this camel’s back came this morning when a co-worker called to berate me. It’s Saturday, I’m on my way back from grocery shopping and since I live in a big city, I’ve gotta carry my parcels. It’s hot and I’m getting cranky. The call wasn’t welcome, nor was it well timed.
It was aimed at the wrong person and he got under my skin. This happens so rarely with me because normally, I let things slide due to my clear boundaries with folks. He doesn’t know those boundaries yet and I had to let him know that we would discuss whatever problems arose from my incompetence when I came in. I cried ‘uncle’. Didn’t want to engage with him.
Especially not while trying to carry my groceries home and PARTICULARLY not when his truth differed from mine.
What to do? Calm down, talk to a friend and get her perspective. Yep. I am that fortunate that I can reach out to those who know and love me.
Coping skills are valuable and I thank G-d every day that I possess them and that I have loved ones who are able to direct me to them.
The ego wanted to lash out like an episode of Jerry Springer.
Hey, I’m not perfect…far from it. FAR from it, take my word for it…but you know…all things considered, all is well. I’ll get it straightened out and everything will be all right.

So, cry uncle once in a while. Don’t cost ya nothin’.