Monthly Archives: September 2013
Bleeding Orange
I happen to live in Denver, Colorado, where today – the opening day of the professional football season – we host the Baltimore Ravens in the year’s NFL season opener.
If you have happened to stumble upon my humble blog ramblings and you live in Seattle, or Miami, or St. Louis, or (heaven forbid from a Bronco’s standpoint) Oakland, you may just substitute your team name and your team color.
Today, here in the Mile High City, we are bleeding orange.
I undertook an early morning trip to the grocery store, and it tickled me to see how many people were already wearing the Bronco colors of blue and orange. Of course the store employees were wearing Bronco garb; likely, they are required to show Bronco affiliation to get a paycheck. However, shopper after shopper, old and young alike, were already in their Bronco clothing. Heck, I have to admit that I was wearing my Bronco shirt and a pair of orange flip flops!
The same was true when I took two of my grandchildren to the zoo. Many of the people looking at the zoo animals were wearing their beloved orange and blue. I’m happy to say the animals were spared.
I grew up in a football loving family. You learned to love the Cornhuskers in vitro if you live in Nebraska. So my sisters and I are just as likely as my brother to sit in front of the television on any given Sunday to watch the games. And cheer. And boo. And cover our eyes. And complain about the officiating. And take walks if the score is too close (well, actually that’s just me).
As a single mother for many years, I taught my son to love football as well. And he is a true fan. He not only will be in his Bronco shirt in front of his television tonight, but his two poor, helpless girlies (both of whom would rather be wearing a Princess Ariel dress) will be in their Bronco shirts because he is convinced that is necessary for the Broncos to win. Not that he’s superstitious or anything.
And what will we be eating as we watch the game? I am going to disappoint all of you. We will not be eating either orange or blue food. We will not, in fact, be eating anything vaguely related to football or tailgating. Alas, on the menu tonight is tilapia. I have a Weight Watchers weigh-in tomorrow.
Pan-Fried Tilapia
Ingredients
2 tilapia filets
½ c. seasoned all-purpose flour
1 T. butter
1 T. olive oil
1 lemon
Process
Melt the butter together with the olive oil in a nonstick fry pan. Dip your filets in the seasoned flour and shake off the excess. Place the filet in the hot pan and let it sear for a couple of minutes, until it’s browned on the first side. Turn over, and do the same on the second side. Remove the filets to a plate and cover. Squeeze the juice of a lemon into the pan with the butter and oil. Stir until you have a nice pan sauce. When serving the tilapia filets, pour the pan sauce over the fish, and serve with a side of lemon.
Try not to look at the disappointment on your husband’s face when he sees you aren’t serving chicken wings.
Go Broncos!
Slurping
Today I ate noodles with two of my granddaughters, both of whom love noodles.
I don’t think I have ever come across a noodle I didn’t like. I particularly like the long, skinny kind that you try with great persistence to wrap around the fork, and then just finally quietly work into your mouth using that same fork.
(In our travels in Italy a few years ago, we learned that the Italians wouldn’t even consider cutting their long pasta. They instead wrap and wrap and wrap it around their forks, without the use of a spoon. If all else fails, the Italians will slurp.)
So will my granddaughters. And one of the best things about being a grandparent is that you aren’t necessarily responsible for teaching your grandchildren their manners. So it was with great joy that I challenged the two of them to a noodle slurping contest. For the next two minutes, the sounds of slurping filled the kitchen. The 3-year-old won handily. Nobody slurps like a toddler.
As I said, I like noodles of all kinds. The two little girls prefer Asian noodles – especially ramen and pho. Here is a simple recipe for ramen noodles that I got from Rants From My Crazy Kitchen.
Easy Homemade Ramen Noodle Soup
Ingredients
1 package Chinese noodles
12-16 c. chicken broth
2 carrots peeled and diced
2 stalks celery, diced
2 scallions, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, minced
1 T soy sauce
1 t. sesame oil
Process
Bring the broth to a boil in a large pot. Add the carrots, celery, scallions, and garlic. Reduce heat to medium and cook until vegetables are soft. Add in the noodles, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Continue cooking for 3 minutes.
Walmart Wonderings
I am not one of those folks who inherently hates Walmart. I have never quite understood some people’s knee-jerk loathing of this admittedly enormous retail giant.
In fact, I often shop at Walmart. I don’t love it, but I do it when I need certain items that, like it or not, are cheaper there. (And I am nothing if not a tightwad.) Still, Walmart shopping is one of my least favorite activities.
This is from a person who loves grocery shopping. (I can almost hear a symphony of groans.) However, since I am retired, I have the luxury of wandering through a grocery store looking at the various kinds of meats or cheeses, comparing prices on different brands, trying the samples, perhaps even sipping on a pumpkin spice latte, skinny, no whipped cream, that you can buy at the Starbucks that is located in every single solitary grocery store in the United States (even if there is a Starbucks in the same shopping center).
So, today as I shopped at Walmart, I decided to pass my time by observing certain phenomenon that caught my eye.
Why, for example, do so many male Walmart shoppers elect not to push the cart in a normal way, as would any woman shopper? Instead, so many men walk beside the cart and steer it from the side. Do they think it looks more masculine that way? And how do they control the cart? I would (and this is without a doubt) run the cart into a rack of t-shirts selling for $7.47 each.
And, speaking of that, why is that t-shirt $7.47? Why not $7.25 or $7.50, or round up to, say, $8?
And I love to see what they place up at the cash registers for people to ponder as they wait in line. When you look up impulse check-stand shopper in the dictionary, there I am. I have purchased many things that I didn’t know I couldn’t live without while waiting in line. Pipe cleaners. Nascar Bic lighters (and I don’t smoke or watch Nascar). Paula Deen’s magazine. Rachael Ray’s magazine. Weight Watchers Magazine (which I wouldn’t need if I didn’t cook out of Paula Deen’s or Rachael Ray’s magazines).
Nevertheless, my weekly shopping is done. And tonight I’m cooking for three of my granddaughters, ages 5, 7, and 10. I will make them the yummy chicken dish that I got from Pinterest for which I don’t really know the name. I have seen it called Heroin Chicken. I call it Buttery Chicken. Simply can’t serve my grandkids anything with heroin in the name.
Buttery Chicken
Ingredients
4-6 boneless chicken breasts or thighs
2 c. grated Parmesan cheese
3 T. parsley
2 T. dried oregano
3 t. paprika
1 t. pepper
1 t. salt
½ c. melted butter
Process
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine the grated cheese and the seasonings. Line a shallow baking pan with aluminum foil. I also place a sheet of parchment paper on top to help avoid sticking.
Melt the butter in a pan. Dip each piece of chicken into the butter, and then into the seasoned cheese, coating completely. Arrange in a single layer on the pan. Pour any remaining butter over the chicken.
Bake for 30-45 minutes, until nicely browned.
Nana's Whimsies 