My (new) People!

My personal genetic heritage is what The Good Man calls “your typical Heinz 57 pan-European”.

I’m German-Irish-Scottish-French.

And raised in New Mexico, so I have Hispanic roots, too.

The Good Man is Italian-English-Turkish-Lebanese.

Also a Heinz 57, but much different from my own. These are not all cultures I have a lot of background with, so I’m having a ball learning about my new family heritage.

My rock star Mom-in-Law (the Turkish/Lebanese side) has taught me much about delicious Mediterranean food. (I thought I’d had falafel before. I had not. I’d had a poor imitation. There is a HUGE difference).

Man, I can’t believe how long I’ve been missing out on the good stuff!

And of course, I’ve always loved Italian food, but oh I had lots to learn.

Like coffee. Now, I like coffee. Ok, I love coffee. It doesn’t always love me back (acidy!). I try to cut back, but can’t. And it’s not even the caffeine that’s a problem! I drink decaf!

I was holding strong, but then my Mom-in-Law gave us a peculiar little device called a Moka Pot. Ok, she gave it to us a while ago, but I’ve suddenly grown an unnatural attachment to it.

It looks like this.

Big deal, right? Just another way to make coffee?

No.

Oh no, no, no.

It’s just another way to make THE MOST DELICIOUS COFFEE EVER!

It’s way easy to use. Kind of fun, actually, and makes coffee super fast and delicious!

You don’t need some fancy high dollar espresso machine! You need this little pot and a burner. And some coffee to go in there.

Details on how to use it from my Mom-in-Law’s blog, Musing By Moonlight (used with permission).

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What is more delightful than an espresso (that’s eSpresso, not eXpresso) to help move through the day or a caffè correto to end a good dinner and aid digestion? This is an easy-to-learn process using a Bialleti Moka Express, an aluminum stove-top espresso maker. It’s well worth the negligible effort. I prefer the moka pot to a machine because I feel more connected to the process and the product, it takes up less real estate in the kitchen, and it’s budget wise.

Always, we start with the freshest ingredients: water – clear, cold, and filtered – and freshly ground dark-roasted coffee. My coffee of choice is Peet’s Espresso Forte® . Have it ground on #3. Buy it when you know you will use it right away, even if you purchase beans and grind them at home.

The Bialetti Moke Express comes in three parts: the reservoir for water, a coffee filter with funnel for the grounds, and a top piece to capture the espresso as it bubbles up from the bottom. This coffee pot comes in various sizes to make coffee for just two or for up to twelve.

(This is Karen, here’s a photo:

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Directions:

Fill the reservoir with water to just below the steam valve. Put the coffee filter in place and fill it with grounds, tamping them lightly with the back of the spoon. Screw the top piece in place.

Put the Moka Express on the highest heat. Watch it because it is quickly done. The espresso will gather in the top chamber. Serve immediately. Sweeten if you like. If you care to, you might add either a lemon peel or, for a caffè correto(corrected), a little grappa.

Caffè latte: One shot fresh, hot espresso for each six ounces of steamed dairy, nut, soy or hemp milk, your choice.
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Oh coffee heaven! I like mine with half and half and brown sugar.

I’m starting to like my new genetic heritage! A lot.

(By the by, while I prefer to use Peet’s coffee too, since I’ve been cutting back on expenditures, I’m trying a decaf Italian (water processed) I found at Trader Joe’s. Delicious!)

Sign o’ the times

Reading a novel by screen writer and now author Chris Ver Wiel, and it’s lovely and snarky and the language snaps.

Just 45 pages in, and the main character asks a good question.

These days, ya just don’t see phone booths anymore.

So…if Superman needed to change into stretchy pants, where, exactly would the crime fighter go now?

Ver Wiel’s answer?
.
.
.
.
.

A Starbucks bathroom.

Ah, a little bit of brilliance there.

A love story

A journey through the soul, told in the chosen format of crappy iPhone photos.

Oh coffee. How I love you so. (Yes, I know the cup is empty. It didn’t last long. I slurped that thing through that pretty blue straw and uttered an “aaaaah” when finished.)

Yes, I love you oh so much. Sadly, you don’t love me in return. You leave my stomach acidy, my esophagus crying out for relief and my adrenals asking for a nice day off.

It is a star-crossed love affair. And a fairly one sided love.

Ice cream, oh ice cream! Rich, creamy, frosty, tasty ice cream. How I adore you as you caress my mouth with your sugary creamy goodness.

But as much as I love you, you don’t love me back the same way. You leave me phlegmy. Also, all that sugar doesn’t help my already acidy tummy.

And you always seem to take up residence on my already poochy belly and round hips.

Damn you ice cream, for being so tantalizing and so not good for me!

Cheese! My sweet longtime lover, cheese! You and I go back to the early years. Remember all the grilled cheese sandwiches we shared? Sprinkling you over enchiladas and broiling until bubbly? Remember when I’d just hack off a slice and eat you as you are, because you and I are so simpatico like that?

Truly, you aren’t terrible for me when enjoyed in moderation, but how can I possibly enjoy your delicious goodness in moderation! No, I indulge too much in my love and you join ice cream on my hips.

It’s cruel, cheese, just too cruel. I mean, after all we’ve shared!!

Ah full fat ranch. You tempting, tempting fella. You flirt with me. Wink your little bottled dressing eye and beg me to partake.

Much like cheese, a little occasionally, fine. But who can have a *little* and why occasionally?

But you mock me. You taste so yum and then you turn on me and do mean things!

It’s not right! I love you so much, why can’t you show me a little kindness?

What’s this? Oh, hey lettuce. What are you doing here? Hmm, yeah, uh, nice to see you too.

I have what can certainly be described as kind regards for you. I’m sure you’re a very nice comestible.

You just don’t…turn me on.

But you seem to *adore* me. Oh sure, you treat me so nice, giving me nutrients and not settling on my hips. Providing energy and fiber and you are such a hair parted down the middle, church on Sunday, help little old ladies across the street nice sweet gentle food.

It’s just…I don’t *want* nice!

I want wild! And passionate! And fascinating and rich complex textures!

I want to run with the bad kids and cut class and down twinkies and potato chips and stick my tongue out at “health” experts!

I want….I want…..

Hey, hey good lookin’…..what’s your name? Wanna run around with me and coffee?

Oh, wait, who is that over there? Well hellooooo handsome!

Wanna take a walk on the beach, hand in hand, and watch the sun set? Wouldn’t that be a nice way to spend some time together?

I know I’m flirting…I can’t help it!

Oh wait, what’s this?

Oh crap. That’s not playing fair…

Hellloooooo lover!

Today: A Fable

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess…we’ll call her…Karenita. This lovely princess was married to the most handsomest prince in the whole land.

But unfortunately for our lovely princess, every weekday, she was required to go and toil away the hours at the Imperial Tower of Doom. Gray clouds swirled overhead while poor Karenita was tormented by her oppressors.

There was one oppressor who was particularly a thorn in the side of our beautiful princess.

See, our lovely girl arrives to work in the morning tired and in need of something for breakfast. The princess keeps some food in the Imperial Tower office ‘fridge, and also likes a spot of hot tea on the cold gray swirly cloud mornings.

Unfortunately for the princess, there lived in the break room a mean and nasty troll.

No really, this lady is like five foot nothing with a bad attitude and a chip the size of Texas on her shoulder.

For some reason, the Evil Break Room Lady can always sense when Karenita the Princess needs to have breakfast, and makes sure to hustle in there first, blocking the egress for our lovely girl to reach the ‘fridge.

While Karenita is there heating up her food, Evil Break Room Lady makes nasty comments about how people don’t clean up after themselves (despite the fact that Karenita scrupulously cleans up after herself) and self-importantly restocks the paper coffee cups (it’s not her job, by the way, she’s a very high paid executive admin) while dropping hairy eyeballs on the princess the whole time.

And then Evil Break Room Lady takes paper towels and cleans the countertops, sometimes pushing Karenita’s bowl out of the way while she does. Karenita finds this to be very rude.

It’s clear that Evil Break Room Lady doesn’t like Karenita, but Karenita doesn’t know why. The princess was raised to be kind and cordial and always says hello and thank you and excuse me.

Karenita believes that Evil Break Room Lady must be very unhappy with her menopausal lot in life, and all the hot flashes must make her cranky. Karenita thinks Evil Break Room Lady envies her still productive ovaries and plentiful estrogen.

The princess tries to be understanding, but it’s kind of hard when someone gives you the equivalent of the finger with her face every morning. Karenita is just trying to make it through the day.

The princess has tried to be nice, to make conversation, to say “yeah, it’s really bad when people leave water everywhere” but none of this works. Evil Break Room Lady has just determined that the princess is a lesser form of life.

And this doesn’t make Karenita feel very nice as she starts each day.

In other news, the nicest person to Karenita in all the Imperial Tower of Doom is the janitor. The janitor thinks Karenita rocks and will make it a point to wave vigorously from across the room and say hi.

Karenita likes Mr. Janitor. He’s a good man with a sucky job and he does it with life and verve and kindness.

So there’s hope. Maybe Karenita knows she’s not such a bad person after all.

And they all lived crankily every after.

For my own good

So in trying to feel better physically and mentally, I’ve made the choice to give up most of the sugar in my diet. Caffeine too, including decaf (it has some caffeine).

I’m ok on the caffeine part. That’s no problem, I’ve never really been able to have that much and when I do, I feel like crap.

Oh but giving up the sugar. It’s killing me.

I hear that quitting cigarettes is about the most difficult thing ever. I’ve never been a smoker, so I can’t compare.

But I can say that Demon Sugar is whispering in my ear right now. “Just one cookie. It won’t hurt. You’ll feel so much better! That headache will go away! You’ll have a little lift! Come on! Just one chocolate bar, what can it do?”

Gad, even this image makes me drool.

I gotsa problem!