Category: good eats

Thursday is the Right Day for SPAM

Over the course of the last week, my favorite Theme Thursday word of the week and creative idea fueling site was down.

They’d fallen victim to an especially tenacious comment spam-bot, so they shut ‘er down to get it sorted.

And so of course, with that in mind, this week’s theme is, you guessed it, SPAM.

SPAM, SPAM, SPAM…lovely spam! Wonderful SPAM!

Well…where can one go with SPAM? It’s either nuisance email or it’s shivering pink gelatinous goo in a square can. One I ignore and the other I fry up nice in a pan and gobble with a touch of mustard.

So I took to the waters of Google to find something different and was rewarded for my journey.

SPAM-ku. Like haiku, only SPAMmier.

Select bits from the MIT (yes, MIT) website:

This was filed under the “addiction” category…


Desire overwhelms.
“SPAM, I must have more of it!”
Freud would be enthralled.


and


Gave up cigarettes
No more drinking, and drug-free
Hidden stash of SPAM


Wow…such SPAM angst. I never knew one could have such delicious agony over luncheon meat.

Let’s see…what do we find under the “sex” category (cuz you knew it was going to go there)?


In regards to SPAM:
Sexual hangups aside,
It makes me feel strange.


or


Autoerotic!
Open can, insert member:
Wham, bam, thank you SPAM!


and then there is


Beneath the armpits

SPAM gives one a manly scent

Drives all women wild


Um…ok. : looks around nerviously : That’s just…odd.

And I like odd, but wow. There are literally pages and pages of SPAM-ku on that site. I believe they have over 5,000 bits of verse devoted to SPAM.

I’ve been known to take my OCD too far, but even I’m unsure about this.

But then I read a verse that speaks to me:


SPAM, too, needs a wife.
What consort for my Pork Prince?
Ah! The Velveeta!


Whoa. I do love the Velveeta and I’m not ashamed to own it. Maybe I am starting to understand these strange SPAM poets.

Then I read the SPAM verse that seems to sum it all up:


SPAM: the perfect food
For people who study Zen–
Meat, and yet not meat.

Ponder that for a while, why don’tcha?

Meanwhile, I think I’ll just have a salad and a walk for lunch. My cholesterol went up twenty points just reading about lovely, wiggly SPAM.





SPAM art found at Strategic Public Relations blog.


Going Four for Four

Today, after I get home from work and grab a little snack, I will reach into my special cabinet and remove the 1970’s era KitchenAid mixer waiting there. The mixer will go on the counter next to my battle worn Cocinas de New Mexico cookbook.

It’s time to make biscochitos.

This is my fourth and final entry for my local county fair, which starts this weekend. I decided to enter my biscochitos in the “culinary arts” event under the “ethnic desserts – cookie” category.

I first learned how to make the New Mexico State Cookie on the very same avocado green mixer that I will use tonight. It’s been a part of my life as long as I can remember, churning out bread, tortillas, grinding meat and makes endless batches of cookies. My mom oversaw my first forays into baking, helping make sure I got the measurements right and followed the recipe to the letter.

Baking biscochitos is like a meditation. Mix the dough, an extra pinch of anise seed for luck, roll out the heavy dough on the counter, cut out circles and bake to golden perfection.

This process, these cookies and that green mixer are all a part of my DNA.

I have no idea what sort of competition my cookies will go up against, but I know this: win or lose, The Good Man and I will have a fresh batch of homemade bicochitos to get us through the day.

A little bit of New Mexico in the middle of a very busy work week. That’s a winner!




Note to El Viejo: I will make them both with and without cinnamon sugar on top and then decide which I think the judges would prefer. I tend to think I should go gringo style and turn in the sugared tops to try to curry the favor of the judges.



Which Side of the Pond Are You On?

Yesterday I had to attend an all day meeting with representatives from a fairly large British company. We work very closely with this company, and almost daily I’m on the phone talking to these Brits. I think I’ve spoken about this in quite a few previous posts, but I’m a bit of an Anglophile, so I have a lot of fun with these quirky cats from London.

After our day long business meeting was done, we all went out to a fabulous Italian restaurant in San Francisco to celebrate over good food and good wine.

As we all waded into appetizers and Chianti, the good natured ribbing began all around. The Brit sense of humor works for me and let’s be honest, it’s extraordinarily easy to make fun of the squishy British man.

At one point, I’d brought up a topic which after a long bit of convoluted conversation (you had to be there) landed us on the topic of the Steve Miller Band. Which then caused one especially posh guy (think of a messier and louder Prince William) to start naming off Steve Miller songs.

It went something like this (hear this in a Brit accent as you read):

“Ah, Steve Miller. Yeah, right, Abracadabra, isn’t he? Fly Like an Eagle, sure. And what about Space Cowboy, then? You know, Maurice, wheeet-whoo!”

To which I replied, “So, are you a midnight toker?”

And he took a prim sip of wine and responded “no, I’m a cowboy joker.”

Which caused the rest of the lads to break down in giggles. Then these London boys got down on a riff about cowboys, and how they all fancied themselves to be cowboys.

Well now we’re in my zone, right? I know more than your average person about actual cowboys, so I just sat back in my chair with my own glass of red and stayed quiet while these Brits went off on their version of the American cowboy.

My over active mind started imagining some sort of summit meeting. I imagine my best friend’s back patio for this event. We’d serve good food, and we’d set up a nice long table. Squishy Brit boys sitting down one side, New Mexico cowboys on the other.

Same planet, worlds apart. But not so different, I suspect.

I believe both sides would agree on the importance of beer. They may not agree on the brand, but the concept, hell yes.

They’d both be able to dish up hearty doses of self-effacing humor.

And each would talk with their own particular accent that would make the other say “huh?”

Ay god, what an event that would be. Once everyone got past the awkwardness, I bet it would be one hell of a party.

Or one hell of a fight. Hard to say.

I think I should ring up my best friend and get to work on the party planning.

Or maybe I need to go a little easier on the Chianti next time.





Photo by Raúl Fernández and used royalty free from stock.xchng


The Id, The Ego and The Stick of Butter

Slept not at all last night and now I’m stumbling through the day. I’m in need of inspiration and Theme Thursday isn’t posted yet. Instead, I’ll take the Free Association route to help my weary Muse along.

I’ve pressed The Muse so hard lately, I can hardly blame her for being a skosh wilted.

But she’s still got a little left in the tank.

And away we go:


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  1. Decoder :: Reminds me of those kids magazines that print messages for the reader to decode. I never had a decoder ring, that’s a skosh before my time, but I remember trying to figure out the key to decode the message. Loved it!

  2. Cake :: What’s not to love about cake? However, here’s a sore point for me: I hate whipped cream frosting. It’s buttercream or nothing. That whippy stuff isn’t interesting, plus it melts off and gets watery. No. Oh, and when I say buttercream, I mean real buttercream, with, you know, butter. I’ll eat the shortening style, but it gives me a greasy feel. Real butter = good. Ok, I’d better wrap up, I can discuss butter and cake all day long.

  3. Sense :: “She’s as happy as if she had good sense.” One of my favorite colloquialisms. It’s used a lot by my best friend’s mom, and it makes me laugh every time. It usually follows some story about someone being blithely stupid. “So she went out and bought a new car even though she can’t make her mortgage payments. And she’s as happy as if she had good sense.”

  4. Geek :: You know, this used to be an insulting word, but now it’s taken on a certain hip cache. As a lover of language, I’m always fascinated when an unkind word is taken in and made into something of a source of pride. Granted, geek was not as harsh as some unkind language, but in the early days, it still wasn’t a nice thing to be called. Now people wear it with pride.

  5. Cousin :: My folks both come from fairly large families so I have lots and lots of cousins. The Good Man’s folks came from small families with few kids, so he has only a few cousins. I think sometimes the sheer vastness of my family sometimes gives him pause. Imagine a roomful of me or people like me. That would give anyone pause, really.

  6. Goggles :: On this cold, dreary grey June day, I’d love nothing more to have a blazing hot high desert day instead. I’d strap on the goggles, blow up my hot pink air mattress and flop down into Ute Lake for a cooling swim. Yeah. That’s a real nice thought. Instead I must see about my umbrella and a coat. Where is summer, again?

  7. Social media :: *sigh* That’s all I have to say about that.

  8. Butterfly :: Mmm, you know what would be tasty for lunch right now? Some jumbo prawns, butterflied out and sautéed in butter. Mmm. Butter. Butter = good. Did I already mention that?

  9. Search :: However, despite my professions of love for butter, I shall instead spend my lunch hour walking around the nearby lagoon and then I’ll search for a leafy salad to dine on. Butter = good, but costly in the hip and thigh region.

  10. Manicure :: I need one. A lot. Since times have been a bit leaner in the ol’ pocketbook, I’ve had to forgo professional mani/pedi in favor of managing it myself. I’m pretty good at it, but it’s always about finding the time for these pampering projects. I’m still totally in love with the Sally Hansen Salon Effects product line. Ok, much like cake, I can ramble on for a while about nail polish.

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Next up, ink blots. Tell me…what do YOU see……?





Image from the Synaesthesia Experiment.


Tough Decision

So…I wondered to myself after a very long and dreary day on Monday…

As I was driving home, as low as I’ve been in a while (my favorite employee tendered her resignation) I knew I needed something comforting upon my arrival home. There are two ways this comfort could go, in my mind: sugar or alcohol.

Which made me then start to try to weigh pros and cons, and I arrived at the question:

Which is worse better more beneficial to my mental health and less detrimental to my physical health:

Two donuts or two beers?

There is an AMAZING donut shop on my way home from work. It’s a local place where they make fresh donuts on site every day. It’s a heavenly experience just walking in the door.

On the other hand…I had two pints of Murphy’s Stout cooling their heels to chilled perfection in my fridge. Oooh the creamy foam.

Now…the answer couldn’t be “have both!” because while I’m certainly self destructive, I am lately trying to at least attempt to be a bit more health conscious.

Two donuts and two beers seemed a bit over the top.

So one might say “how about one donut and one beer?” That’s a fair question. Logical, really. I’ll spare you the long psychological reasoning, but I’ll simply confess that I have this weird OCD about having “just one.”

Whatever I was going to have, it was going to be two.

And don’t even bother suggesting “have neither and go take a walk.” I was way past that point.

So let’s get to the basic facts:

Two old fashioned donuts comprise 560 calories, 22 grams fat, 82 carbs, and 6 grams protein.*

Two pints of Murphy’s stout come up to 400 calories, 0 grams fat, 46 carbs, and 4 grams protein.

Hookay. Well, the beer is a few less calories, carbs and fat, so from a nutrition standpoint, beer seems to be the winner.

How about the mental side? Well, alcohol is a bit of a depressant and it was likely that after two beers I’d be even more maudlin than I already was (a good Irish depression). The sugar and carbs in the donuts are a serotonin booster, so for mood enhancement, the donuts win.

How about the after effects? Well, after the upside of the two beers wore off, I’d feel a bit headachy, dehydrated, bloaty, possible gastric distress and a bit mind muddled. After the good part of two donuts wore off I’d feel guilty, bloaty (owing to gluten sensitivity), possible gastric distress and a bit mind muddled. We’ll call this one a draw.

So now I’m back to square one. Both have benefits. Both have drawbacks.

How to choose?

It’s a delicious problem to have.



Photo credit: Thomas James Spravka



In case the suspense is killing you…I chose two old fashioned donuts for drowning my sorrows and I don’t regret it.

Nutrition info from My-Calorie-Counter.com

Photo by Thomas James Spravka and found on Draft Magazine