Here are two more oldies from 2008, to finish the “Cooking with Arlo” segment. I like to cook, too. Cooking long as been a part of A&J in one form or another. Also like Arlo, I’m a fan of Julia Child, who led an amazing life. If you want a good overview and read, I highly recommend her 2006 autobiography, co-written with Alex Prudhomme, “My Life in France.”
94 responses to “Fin Chez Arlo”
Imagine JJ’s surprise to find out that he is an enemy of our country, Memo from Hitler: seize the newspapers!
Steve from RO, you brought the cold with you when you came home to Michigan! I hope you got in ahead of the storm; it was pretty nasty for awhile. I’m kind of relieved that the cold is back. The last couple of weeks lots of groggy skunks have wandered part way across roads and remained there.
emb, do skunks hibernate, or is it torpor?
Trapper Jean, we always had oyster stew on Christmas Eve when I was growing up, also. (Kansas) I ate the stew but not the oysters. Fairly easy to avoid. (I was good at that kind of thing—lots of practice—one of the original picky eaters.)
And now for something completely different.
Today is World Sword Swallowing Day.
http://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/sword-swallowing-day/
As long I am being a cut-up while I slice ‘n’ dice, here’s one more:
http://www.ripleys.com/weird-news/edna-price/
Wilkinson smooth.
Anon: Knew a Bemidji family who did Chr. Eve oyster stew annually, canned I think, and everyone ate just the liquid, threw out the oysters. I’ve liked oysters in any form ever since I was a kid. Mom, you will remember, grew up in Bay St. Louis, MS, next town W. from JJ’s former home.
Miss fresh seafood of just about any kind. Used to be able to buy fresh raw clams on the street in NYC, less than $1 a half dozen, I think. Then, outside of the old Stuyvesant H.S. on E. 15th St., there was the knish man. Sweet potato man outside of JHS 3, on Grove St.
Peace,
In Monroe, LA. Dickens on bed with me. Big disappointment, Willie’s Diner is being redecorated to reopen near summer. Was looking forward to food there.
This is Louisiana. Lots of food.
Went to huge booksale this morning. Found several good ones cheap, including books on living with diabetes and fitness. Darned cold all day, glad I had my heavy jacket. Found a discount store named Gordmans which is new to me. Good names at low prices.
Sorry to hear your first choice of restaurant didn’t pan out Jackie. But I bet there are plenty of others.
What is on that rock near the R border of the frame? Just looked again. Nothing is. I was fooled by a reflection, on the water behind the rocks.
http://explore.org/live-cams/player/african-safari-camera
Smigz: Skunks, raccoons, bears, and some other medium to large sized mammals let their internal temperature decrease a bit, going into a torpor from which I’d advise not waking them, rather than the deep temperature of critters that characterizes many rodents, bats, hedgehogs, and whatnot. I’m no physiologist, so know little more than that.
Peace,
Oops! ‘rather than the deep temperature drop of critters . . .’
Ghost has returned to stately Ghostly Manor after an interesting but somewhat lengthy day. Ever wish the entire day had gone as well as the first few hours of it?
Jean dear, possibly the rubbery texture if the oysters you ate was due to them being overcooked. From the Department of What It’s Worth, this is my recipe for Oyster Stew.
A Recipe From Ghost’s Kitchen
2 Dozen raw oysters, in enough liquid to cover
1/2 Stick butter or margarine
2 Green onions, chopped
Seasonings:
1 Tbs Worcestershire sauce
3/4 tsp Salt
1/8 tsp White pepper
1/4 tsp Paprika
Dash of Red cayenne pepper
2 Pints Half & Half
Heat butter in a large cast iron skillet, sauté onions until tender, but not brown. Add oysters, liquid and seasonings, heat until edges of oysters curl just slightly. Add Half & Half, heating slowly, but do not boil. Serve with a lump of butter and dash of paprika. Serves 6.
As Arlo said, “Voilà”.
Recently, I posted a reminiscence of my high school-era cars and invited comment. Several, mostly of the male persuasion, chimed in, often with a bit of passion regarding their automobiles past. I would hope this will inspire even greater ardor. And female respondents will be most welcomed.
Do you remember your first “serious” kiss? Who (description, not name); when; the circumstances; and the ultimate outcome (remembering that this is a family-friendly site)?
Mine, you ask?
Who: My date for my HS prom the year I was a junior. (Hey, I’ve already confessed I was a late-bloomer.) She was a mature sophomore in whom I’d been interested for a while, but it was our first actual date.
When: After the prom had ended.
The Circumstances: My best female friend, with whom I had a very close but Platonic relationship throughout HS, had had too much to drink at the prom. (Yeah, people sometimes did that.) I deemed it necessary to rescue her from the lecherous guy who had gotten her intoxicated. (Yeah, I guess I’ve had a White Knight complex for a while.) My date and I put her in the back seat of my car (actually my dad’s); she fell asleep; and we drove her home. We pulled up in front of the friend’s house and parked. My date looked at me; I looked at her; and suddenly I put my arms around her, pulled her to me, and began kissing her. It lasted a long, long time. In retrospect, I think I was afraid I’d do such a poor job of kissing her, she’d never let me kiss her again.
The Ultimate Outcome: Happily, my date seemed perfectly content to let me kiss her as long as I liked. And she did let me kiss her again, many times in fact, as we dated steadily through my senior year. We continued to see each other occasionally during my first two years of college, even though we attended different universities. Somehow, we drifted apart, for reasons which now escape me. I’ve had no direct contact with her since, but I do know where she is now, and pretty much how her life without me turned out…but further respondent sayth not.
I remember where and when and approximate year but not the who. At the time who made all the difference.
I don’t know exactly what you mean, ghost; perhaps just that both parties were in favor of the kiss. After all, in the years of my teens, not a lot of different, er, “techniques” were typically known to teens of my acquaintance.
Repeated kindly touching of our lips probably happened when I was 16 with a wonderful gal with whom I am still in contact by email and by greeting cards. Occasions were any number of times I escorted her home (walking) from choir rehearsals, stayed to watch Ralph Edwards in his “This Is Your Life” TV show while being fed snacks by her mom, followed by said smooching in the duplex vestibule – her mom would come by after about 10 minutes and rap on the glass panes composing the inner door. ‘Twas harmless, and her mom knew it.
BTW, for those who care, Luann is seen today sans clothing. Don’t everyone rush to look….
Decided with some thought that I really have known few people that kissed well. I don’t mean polite kisses but the eat your tonsils and Polish your teeth kisses that make your feet lose all feeling in your soles.
That of course are the kisses written about as sole full erotic kisses that shake your entire body. Now that is being kissed meaningfully.
Arlo probably kisses Janis like that.
Love of my life and only one I’ve ever kissed passionately. Bench on SE shore of Beebe Lk., a small artificial lake on Cornell U. campus, Ithaca, NY. Spring ’49; maybe nuzzled and kissed half hr. I knew no ‘technique,’ she some, but we worked at it over the years. I’m doing pulpit supply for our pastor today, partly about my favorite apostle. Guess. Prayers welcome. Shalom,
Luann is cute, and quite insightful / the ways we treat this gender and that. Ignore 9CL today. One of his get-away-w/o effort days. Peace,
Perhaps I could have written that more precisely. (It was late.)
“It (the individual kiss) lasted a long, long time. In retrospect, I think I was afraid I’d do such a poor job of kissing her, she’d never let me kiss her again (once I finished that first kiss with her).”
I agree that in kissing, as in most things, “practice makes perfect.” Or as near to it as matters.
Perhaps you were like Alan Jackson when he won his first CMA award. He named everyone who he felt deserved thanking. He went on and on and on. He thought he might never get another chance so he just kept going.
https://youtu.be/Rn0GHEP3UCI
I prefer my oysters on someone else’s plate.
It was still sort of warm when I arrived Friday. Very dark. Then it started to hail. Hailing My arrival home?
You are behind now Steve. The oysters have brought on an outbreak of kissing.
Go on kiss someone immediately!
Ghost Sweetie, as I remember it Mom’s oyster stew recipe was butter, milk, salt, pepper, and two pints of oysters with the water. And yes, she probably overcooked the oysters. I liked the stew part with crackers, but not the oysters.
Jean when raw oysters are sort of grayish slimy things laying in a shell. When heated for a few minutes, very few, they change character and a lot of layers suddenly appear floating in that milky fluid.
Think about what that warm soupy liquid represents and the labia presented by the frilled lips of the oyster. Appearance is what gained oysters their reputation as an aphrodisiac, not any actual proof of performance.
Let’s get back to the kissing – a much more interesting subject than oysters even when tonsil hockey is not involved!
Luann: I was going to write, earlier, that she was sans clothing with others watching her, and not in any art class milieu! Eventually, I just went the shorter way as shown.