Posts Tagged With: Georgia

My 1000th Blog! – The Adventures of My Friends

It was sultry in Macon, Georgia. Which is kinda irrelevant because our story takes place in Poway. I hope mentioning their town squares things with the Macon city council.

Anyway, ruggedly handsome Matt Pallamary looked down the smoking barrel of his Saturday Night Special. He’d been the head weatherman for Channel 3, The Voice of Greater Poway, for thirteen years. He hadn’t learned a darn thing about meteorology, climatology, chinoiserie, or whatever. It really didn’t matter, every day in Poway since the flood of Genesis had been cloud free. Poway had been, and still is, light during the day and dark at night.

Oh dear, I’ve totally forgotten about the sultry Susan Conner who lay dead on the floor with a bullet hole the size of Rhode Island in her head. Matt surveyed her one more time, no doubt Poway’s finest would soon show. After all, Winchell’s DoughnutsTM always had Channel 3 on.

“Nice gams,” said Matt. “Too bad her cats kept predicting a major flood. Destroyed all credibility for the program.” Ms. Conner didn’t mind Matt’s nor the author’s intrusions and dilly dallying. She was dead and had learned patience.

Suddenly, the scene was cut short as Sergeant Mavvy Vasquez and rookie Mary Barker burst in. Sgt. Vasquez drew her VerasceTM .45 silencer and plugged Matt in the throat. Matt slumped to the floor. Even in death he wasn’t in a hurry. His last words were, “Ow! I mean ow!”

Barker asked, “Land of Goshen! Why’d ya kill him? He was ruggedly handsome, ya know.”

Vasquez sneered. “Rookie, rookie, rookie. Have you learned nothing from me? Less paper work from killing a suspect than bringing him. And besides, Real Economists of Los Angeles comes on just after my shift is over. Not missing that for anything.

“Shouldn’t Real Economists of Los Angeles be in quotes and not in italics,” said Barker, whose hearing was very good.

“Pow! Pow!” said Vasquez as she pointed her finger. Finger guns have never worked, not even for the imaginative kid. It didn’t work now. So she used her silencer. Down went the rookie. The sergeant knew she was wrong to murder Barker and also quite possibly wrong about italicizing the TV show as well. However, she was doomed if this charge was true. Sheriff Leona Pence was strict about grammar, particularly after a murder of a policewoman.

Sheriff Pence was herself a murderer. Normally, that would be a resume stain for anyone seeking a career in law enforcement. However, Ms. Pence successfully ran for sheriff, sheriff spelled correctly, on the slogan, or with the slogan as the case may be, of, “It takes a murderer to catch a murderer.”

Murder made Sergeant Vasquez hungry. Murder always does that. You’d know that if you murdered . . . Anyway, so hungry, so hungry for a maple doughnut that she cut in line of Shirley Wetzel who was kindness itself.

Except when it came to her doughnuts. No one got between her and a doughnut. A doughnutless Wetzel was a hangry Wetzel. (Notice, I’m using people last names mostly. It’s because I’m respectful. Manners matter even in murder.)

Anyway, still at the doughnut shop, Wetzel yelled, “Hey, no cutting in line.”

“Oh go eat lutefisk,” replied the law.

A severely sugar deficient Wetzel pulled her trusty Jay Martin knife and severed Sergeant Vasquez’s jugular. Blood splashed Wetzel’s white blouse. “My blouse is ruined! Just ruined!”

“No, it isn’t” said Shelley Caldwell, who normally took the doughnut orders, but hadn’t done so recently because of all the murders and stuff, “just smear blood over yourself. You’ll just be wearing a shiny red blouse, that’s all.”

Wetzel sniffled. “I suppose so.”

“And not only that,” said Caldwell, “the police will be looking for a murderer with blood stains on her. They won’t be able to see individual spots in a completely stained blouse.”

Wetzel brightened. Smiled even. “Thank you. You’ve been most helpful to a murderous stranger.”

Caldwell waved her hand. “It’s nothing, honey. My grandmother told me to be useful as well as ornamental.”

Wetzel stepped outside, walked to intersection and pressed the button. When the light at the other side of the street flashed “walk,” she walked put not before looking to the left for aholes turning right into the crosswalk. If only she’d had looked up as well. But no she didn’t. A comet hit her and carried her off into space. Right now, Wetzel is speeding out on an orbit that will take her out past Pluto, still a planet in my book, and into the Oort cloud. Wetzel’s comet is scheduled to return in the year 2375.

Anyway, the comet’s commotion kinda grabbed everyone’s attention, so no one noticed when Steve Barber, a Chihuahua, robbed the nearby First Really First National Bank. I tell you, no one ever suspects Chihuahua of any crime at all. It’s truly an invitation to canine robbery, which Barber had just done. And with an AKC-47. The C stands for Chihuahua sized. It’d be unrealistic to have a tiny dog, toting around a real assault rifle, for goodness sake.

Unfortunately for Barber, a Chihuahua’s legs are tiny, making a quick getaway impossible. Too bad he’d never gotten a license. He could have booked it out of there in a Smart Car.TM

Anyway, Sergeant Bob Brouilette used the author intrusion and the doggie’s slowness to catch the canine criminal. “Oh ho,” said Brouilette, “I’ve got you know.”

“‘Now’ is spelled, ‘now,’ not ‘know,’ copper,” woofed Barber.

“It’s not my fault, ‘know’ was a typo,” said Brouilette. “And, it’s a homonym.”

“No, it isnt,” woofed the dog. “and you have to let me go.”

“You used a gun in a robbery,” said the sergeant.

“It’s my Second Amendment right to bear arms,” woofed Barber.

“That only applies to people,” said Brouilette.

An interesting Supreme Court ruling loomed. But then fifty-two cats pounced on Barber, grabbed him by their paws and kicked him to death with their hind legs. “Eat fur balls, Chihuahuas,” purred the kittenish Susan Conner who wasn’t as dead as she seemed in paragraph two.  She probably takes lots of vitamins, “Time to make America feline again,” said Conner.

And now we’ll pause a moment while I correct a comma into a period. There. Done.

“We don’t murder with cats in Poway,” said the bystander Paul Higgins who had a body any zombie would kill for, four limbs and everything. And at that, Higgins put a whistle to his lips and blew.

Conner sneered. “Like any cats going to follow that.”

“I know,” said Higgins, smarter than a herd of amoebas. “But this whistle will attract the attention of the police.”

“Oh drat,” said Conner, “I didn’t figure on that.”

“Into the library,” said the dapper Woodrow Wilkins, who despite all wearing spiffy clothes, loved cats to the extent that he never minded cat fur all over his ensembles. Well, he really preferred cat fur that coordinated nicely with his suits. But the point has been made, he loved cats and their cat masters.

Conner led her herd to the library. Before entering, she turned back to glimpse at her knight in shining armor. “Thank you,” said. “I will always remember your kindness.”

The ever modest Wilkins tipped his hat. “It’s nothing.” He then vanished into obscurity, which was quite a good thing given the fatality rate of this Powegian day.

Conner and her cute as buttons cats stampeded into the library.

“Whoa!” yelled the head librarian, Shellie Fiore, in her sternest whisper. “This is a library, not a barn. We don’t stampede here.”

Properly embarrassed the cats said down and began licking themselves. Conner, too.

Fiore took this respite in action to drink in the attention of hundreds of male admirers. Ravishingly beautiful, if she had been alive in the time of Homer, she’d have been the stunning knockout that launched a thousand ships against Troy.

Fiore knew it too. Indeed, she’d walk the sidewalk in front of the library every now and again. Male drivers would turn their heads to drink her in. For too long. Too often. Eyes off the road, driver after driver would crash into car after car. Often with fatal results. The she devil reveled in her fatal attractiveness.

But not in the library, where she never killed anyone. But she’d give you such a look if you tried to argue your way out of a fine.

Poway’s library collected a lot of late-book fines and talking-ones as well. To such an extent, in fact, that the place was lit not with over head lighting, but with ornate Italian candlesticks.

The reference librarian, Chrissie Ann, AKA the Enforcer, gripped one such candlestick. She lovingly referred to it as Rita Tobey Cloud. Ann was also snarling. A patron, Susan Clark Voorhis, wanted to use the computer. It was her time. Had been for ten minutes. She’d demurely asked the selfish oaf if she’d might sit down instead. The miscreant, Rodney Dodig, didn’t even look up. He really was a bad egg.

So Voorhis, walked timidly toward Ann and told her tale of woe. “Is that so? Well not, in my domain.” Ann the Enforcer glanced toward Conner and her cats, you could never tell what they might do. But they were sleeping. She was free to administer justice.

In three steps Ann bounded over to where Dodig surfed the net for intense articles on cross-grape pollination in the Andes. Naturally, he didn’t want to be disturbed by the outside world. So when Ann tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Now, see here!” he waxed belligerent. His face took on the anger of someone expecting a cream-filled chocolate egg only to find that he’d bitten into a chocolate-covered Brussels sprout.

“Take off, reference Nazi.” And worse, he’d yelled this. In a library. To a reference librarian. To a Powegian reference librarian.

Smack, smack, Ann’s candlestick, Cloud, came down on his head. Smack, smack, Ann’s silver candlestick made sure he was dead. Voorhis thought briefly turning Ann into the law, but she really did need to get on the computer. She really needed to complete her research. Her term paper was due tomorrow and her laptop wasn’t doing anything. If only she’d listened to her friends and not installed Internet Explorer. She merely mouthed thanks to Ann and sat down at her terminal.

The blissful silence of the library shattered when Conner spontaneously busted. So Conner didn’t remember Wilkins’ kindness well long after all, did she?

Anyway, Ann the Enforcer strode toward the cats. “Now see here!” she yelled. “We do not combust in this library.” Pointing her finger to the door she said, “Scat, shoo, now!”

The cats ignored her, so Ann brought a big bucket, some soap, and some water. It’s amazing how often those things are useful to a reference librarian. “Now cats, who want’s a bath!”

None of them did. They stampeded the exit and collided with great momentum into the Great Steve Kramer’s stilts. Kramer’s stilts were thirty-feet long. Kramer was walking with them. Down went Kramer. Down went Kramer’s skull. Not the way Kramer had wanted to die, he’d always fancied he’d get shot down in a gunfight on Front Street in Dodge City against the somehow revived Matt Dillon. Before that he wanted to parlay his earnings from exotic stilt walking at the Rhino’s Horn club into graduating with a major in Alligator Husbandry at Tampa A&M. Bummer, Kramer.

But death isn’t always bad. No! For Kramer’s hat fell off when he fell. Underneath it had been a lottery ticket. The ticket fluttered to the ground. It’s movement caught the eye of Julie Fletcher who had come to see the sights of Poway, tourist destination of the West. Fletcher had always been raised to make the best of any situation, including deaths of alligator-husbandry wishing, thirty-foot stilt walking entertainers.

So Fletcher pounced on the lottery ticket. As incredibly contrived fiction would have it, the ticket won her eighty millions dollars. She immediately bough a BushnellTM 303 sonic obliterator. She bought a spanking new Rolls RoyceTM drove back to her home town and murdered everyone who had been mean to her. I’m hoping the elimination of all the negativity in her life, will give her a fresh start. I mean, after all, she should be able to bribe any number of juries. Any way, good luck, Fletcher.

Not all onlookers were made happy by Kramer’s death. Not Ted Mouser. The ever dashing hit man had just bumped off Santa Claus. Old Saint Nick had banged Mouser’s roof one too many times. The neighboring kids blamed him a lot for ruining Christmas. They even called him, “meanie.” That hurt. Only one thing could cheer Mouser up, stilt walking. Powegian stilt walking. And now Poway’s very best stilt walker was gone. And soon would be Mouser as well.

Click, click. Click, click. The sounds of the steel nails on Mrs. Claus’ tall boots. She removed her sunglasses and gazed at Mouser. “So you killed my husband.”

“Which one?”

“Santa Claus, he was a good man. He stayed at home with me, every night but one. And man, I love a guy with a belly and a beard.”

Mouser raised his left eyebrow. “Mrs. Claus. Is it that so? I seem to remember you having a different name. A very different name.”

Mrs. Claus spat at the ground. “That’s right, I was Bettie Turner, fan dancer at the Naked Armadillo down San Anton way. The best fan dancer you ever saw. And don’t you forget it.”

Mouser wouldn’t forget Turner, wouldn’t raise his right eyebrow for her either. Everything in moderation was his motto. Mrs. Old Saint Nick, reached inside her trench coat and withdrew a Kit KatTM bar.

Mouser laughed. “Give me a break.”

But Turner wouldn’t. She reached again inside her trench coat and came out with a Sunday Morning Special and put a bullet neatly between Mouser’s eyes. She looked at her smoking gun. “‘Bout time all that target practice with the elves paid off.”

Then Kathryn Minicozzi killed Turner with a slingshot. As always, competition to be Santa’s wife was fierce. “Finally, I’ll be Mrs. Chubby.” A limo pulled up. Vivian Pattee jumped out and ran toward Turner. The chauffeur knew that murderers always appreciated a quick getaway. Big tippers too. “Where to?”

“To the North Pole,” said Minicozzi. “I’m going to get married.”

“Very good, madam.” It was at times like this that the driver was glad she’d invested in a hover-limo.”

Stefanie Kneer cursed her luck. She didn’t have a limo. Didn’t even have a car. Not even a Honda FitTM. You’d think that someone blessed with the looks of a film goddess could have gotten any man to do anything she wanted. And they did. Hundreds of wealthy hunks threw entire fortunes at her. Too bad she always lost the money in rigged tic-tac-toe matches. Would she ever learn?

No. She’s going down. Wrapped up in her problems, she stepped out into the street without looking even one way. Hopping mad a few seconds earlier, she was soon beside herself when she stepped on a land mine and exploded into bits. Indeed, a fortuitously stiff wind blew Kneer chunks onto the clothes of the passersby. Poway’s dry cleaning stores would do a booming business.

Crossing guard Kate Domsic, vigilant and dedicated as Barney Fife had even been, watched with grim satisfaction. “We enforce the law here. Damned scoff laws.” Domsic flicked off a bit of Kneer from her shoulder.

Fashion model Christee Gabour Atwood shrieked. That Kneer chunk had landed on her ChanelTM black dress. And there were long lines outside all the cleaners. She had to get home fast. Her car, get to her car. But no she had forgotten where she parked it.

Then along came Marilynne Smith pogoing down the sidewalk. Atwood’s arm shot out, clotheslining Smith. Atwood addressed the sprawling pogoer, “Sorry, but my need is greater.” Atwood pogoed with the alacrity that comes with being fashion model rushing to her place on the runway.

Smith sat up and surveyed her scrapes. “That just tears it. My man is buying me a car.” But it was a good thing she lost her pogo stick, for a UFO locked onto the nearest pogoer, Atwood. The tractor beam pulled the fashion model up to the mother ship. If only the aliens had remember to leave a door open for her.

It’s difficult to say whether the collision with the spacecraft did Atwood in or was it the plummeting fall that did her in. It is clear, however, that her landing on Jack Brantley Lightfoot killed him. Which was kind of good thing as was on his way to have his license renewed and he did so hate waiting in line at the DMV.

Cynthia Drew, however, was waiting at the DMV. Was she even a bit closer to the front of the line? No, the Earth’s plates had shifted twelve times since she got in line. Just then the woman in front of her, Liz Husebye Hartman, collapsed, dying from dehydration and malnutrition. This is why the DMV plasters posters inside its buildings signs that read, “Did you remember to bring food and water?” Of course, the waiting people never did bring food and water. They also never wanted to go home for those items because that would mean losing their place in line. So hundreds of people die each day at their DMVs from starvation and thirstation.

But as always, there was a silver lining to this. Hartman’s demise meant Drew could move up one place in the line. Synapses fired in Drew’s brain. If she killed all the people in front of her, she could go right to the front and get that form 4F3B. Fortunately, she had an AK-47 slung across her back. Sure, Drew had meant to use the gun on terrorists and intruders to her home, but her keen mind adapted to this situation. “Don’t whine, do,” her parents had always said. So Drew gunned down the people in the line and strode ahead, smiling all the way.

“Form 4F3B, please,” said Drew.

“Sorry,” said Christine Olewiler, “this is the line for form 4F3C. You want the line to the left.”

But the line to the left stretched so far that the curvature of the Earth prevented Drew from seeing the end. Her heart soared like a rock. “I’m going to kill myself.”

Olewiler sneezed. She coughed hard enough to separate her ribs. Snot flowed freely down her otherwise alabaster cheeks. “Please, kill me first. I’m ever so sick.”

Drew, ever the good Samaritan, emptied her assault rifle into the DMV clerk’s head. Drew could have complained that she now had no bullets to use on herself. Instead she displayed the can-do spirit that made America great and simply pulled her head off.

Meanwhile, it was eventful day on Happy Valley Street. D Lynn Frazier, had just killed her neighbor and bridge partner, Mandy Ward, by shoving sixty pounds of guacamole down the throat. And just for a flourish, Frazier stabbed Ward.

Roxe Anne Peacock, of the other bridge pair, took offense. It was her guacamole that Frazier had used. Her prize-winning guacamole! Frazier could kill her guests all she wanted, sure, Peacock had a live and let live attitude, but messing around with her guacamole brought instant death. Well not instant, Frazier did resist getting hit over the head with a frozen corned-beef brisket. Then it took a while for the petite Peacock to manhandle Frazier into the meat locker. And wouldn’t you know it, it took all night for Frazier to freeze properly.

Naturally enough Frazier had trouble getting up the next morning. Not so with Peacock. She took the stiff out of the locker and started to take it out to the curb for trash pickup. But as she did, she spied the washing machine. Horrors! She had wet clothes in there from the previous night. They would get stinking and moldy if not dried right away. She stood up Frazier a few feet away and started transferring clothes to the dryer. Unfortunately, in doing so, she bumped into Frazier. Down went the rock-hard frozen Frazier on Peacock’s neck, snapping it two. So, sad to say, the clothes got moldy and icky.

Two days later, Cheryl Christensen of the Neighborhood Mold Watch Committee knocked on Peacock’s door. Nothing. She came back the next day. Knocked. Again. Nothing. Christensen contemplated leaving another blistering anti-mold note before bursting into laughter. The mold maker would pay. Peacock would be tickled until she cried uncle.

Christensen picked the front door’s lock and headed to the reeking smell in the laundry room. She flexed her fingers. Justice would be served. But wahdu, Peacock was dead. Frazier was dead. The neighborhood would be blame her. Thinking quickly, Christensen stuffed each body into a sock. Into the dryer the dead ones went. Christensen closed the dryer door and set the buttons. Sure enough, Peacock and Frazier, being in orphan socks, disappeared.

Alex Butcher of the FBI came by to investigate, but her investigation proved no more fruitful than did any of the Bureau’s dead-bodies-stuffed-inside-orphan-socks investigation.

A week later, Linda Fierstein came back from a vacation at the sun-soaked beaches of Tahiti. She asked her neighbor, “Did anything happen while I was away?”

“Nothing to speak of,” said Kathy Carroll.

Chef Paul

My cookbook, Following Good Food Around the World, with 180 wonderful recipes is available on amazon.com. My newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, a hilarious apocalyptic thriller, is also available on amazon.com

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Categories: humor, murder | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Cuban Moros y Cristianos

Cuban Entree

MOROS Y CRISTIANOS
(beans and rice)

INGREDIENTSMorosYchristianos-

12 ounces dry black beans
2½ cups long white rice
5 cups chicken stock
1 green bell pepper
3 garlic cloves
1 medium onion
2½ tablespoons olive oil
1 bay leaf
½ teaspoon cumin
½ teaspoon oregano
¼ teaspoon pepper
¾ teaspoon salt
1½ tablespoon white vinegar
1 tablespoon tomato paste

SPECIAL ITEM

Dutch oven

Makes 6 bowls. Takes 2½ hours.

PREPARATION

Add beans to pot. Add enough water to cover beans with 1″ of water. Bring to boil using high heat. Let boil for 20 minutes. Stir occasionally. Remove, cover, and let stand for 1 hour. Drain and rinse beans. Again add water until beans are covered by 1″ of water. Bring to boil using high heat. Stir occasionally. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 1 hour or until beans are tender. Drain.

While beans simmer, add rice and chicken stock to pot or rice cooker. Cook rice according to instructions on package.

While beans still soak and rice cooks, seed bell pepper. Dice bell pepper, garlic cloves, and onion. Add bell pepper, garlic, onion, and olive oil to Dutch oven. Sauté on medium-high heat for 5 minutes or until onion softens. Stir frequently. Add black beans from pot, bay leaf, cumin, oregano, pepper, salt, vinegar, and tomato paste. Cook on medium heat for 5 minutes. Stir occasionally. Add rice with chicken stock to Dutch oven. Stir and serve with sofrito.

TIDBITS

1) The Declaration of Independence of 1776 voiced America’s most cherished ideals in such a forceful and plain manner as to compel the assent of the world’s powers to America’s right to nationhood.

2) It was also a practical document listing all the things King George III of Britain did to annoy, vex, and hamper the commerce of The Thirteen Colonies.

3) One action that stands in my mind is how George and his ministers hampered the New England fishing fleets. The seamen clamored for the removal of these restrictions. It didn’t happen.

4) It became clearer and clearer that the only way for the fishermen to get a sympathetic National Fisheries Department was to create a new nation.

5) In 1773, the British sent regiment after regiment of infantry to Boston to suppress Boston’s surly and increasingly unruly fishermen. The redcoats stormed one bay-side warehouse after another carrying off cannon, muskets, and weapon-grade fish hooks. Surely, Boston was ripe for revolution.

6) But nothing happened. Boston baked beans had made the culinary scene. All the inns and taverns from New Hampshire to New Jersey served this new entree. It was so good. It is still so good. Diners became contented, contented enough to put revolutions and reality shows on hold.

7) In 1775, however, King George and his council made a truly egregious blunder. They omitted all types of carrots from the list of foodstuffs that could be grown in the colonies. From that moment on, carrots could only be imported from England on English ships.

8) These “carroty omissions,” an anagram for “Moros y Cristianos,” devastated the carrot farmers of New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Virginia, and Georgia. Passions ran high. Royal carrot enforcers were hung in effigy; their homes stormed and ransacked.

9) New England’s merchant fleet stayed in port. With no carrots to ship from the south to ship to carrot-starved Boston, there was no reason for them to venture out. Unemployment soared in all Thirteen Colonies.

10) Unemployed people tend to do two things, congregate at skateboard parks and foment revolution against the mother country. There were no skateboard parks in 1775. Revolution loomed.

11) On February 7, 1775, Samuel Magpie got up before the Pennsylvanian legislature to thunder, “Give me carrot cake or I’ll hold my breath until I turn blue.” Only a few people noticed. However, Patrick Henry was one of them.

12) Patrick Henry was an omnivore, a person or animal eating both fish and carrots. He knew the spark needed to inflame people’s hearts needed to be broader.

13) So on March 23, 1775 he addressed the Virginia Convention, “Give me liberty of give me death.” This was sheer brilliance. He had stood up for the rights of farmers to grow carrots and fishers to fish, while simultaneously creating a metaphor for ending political oppression. The fired-up conventioneers voted for a national convention. The Declaration of Independence would be signed a scant year later. Seven years more, America would become a new nation.

14) The great world powers took this lesson to heart.. Ever since then, no nation has dared to enact anti-carrot legislation. Carrot salad, anyone?

– Chef Paul

LutheranCookbook

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, are available in paperback or Kindle on amazon.com

The cookbook is also available as an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, history, humor, international | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Peanut Butter

American Appetizer

PEANUT BUTTER

INGREDIENTSPeanutButter-

4 cups roasted peanuts (1 cup then 3 cups)*
2 tablespoons peanut oil (½ tablespoon at a time)
½ tablespoon honey
¾ teaspoon salt
⅛ teaspoon sugar

* = 4 cups peanuts weigh about 1 pound. Purchase peanuts with the skins still on for added flavor and fiber. Buy skinned peanuts if you prefer a smoother peanut butter. And, oh gosh, buy shelled roasted peanuts. It takes forever to shell enough peanuts to make this recipe; just as long as a lecture in theoretical economics lasts..

SPECIAL UTENSILS

blender
mason jar

Makes 1½ cups. Takes 10 minutes.

PREPARATION

Add 1 cup peanuts in blender. Blend on lowest for about a minute or until the peanut bits are the size you desire. (People’s preference for the chunkiness of their peanut butter and the power of their blender vary considerably, so you’ll need to keep a close eye on the blending.) Remove and set aside.

Add remaining 3 cups peanuts, ½ tablespoon oil, and honey to blender. Set blender to lowest setting that works. (A weak blender will just make plaintive whirring noises and do nothing if it’s on too low a setting. Gradually decrease the speed of the blender to low as it becomes more and more to blend. (I think I can. I think I can. ) Blend on low setting until mixture becomes quite smooth. (The oil should be coming out of the peanuts.) If mixture is too dry to spread, add another ½ tablespoon oil and puree again. Repeat as needed with oil until mixture is easy to spread. Add salt and sugar. Fold in salt and sugar with wooden spoon.

Store in refrigerator. It should be good for 2 weeks to 2 months, depending on the seal of the jar used for storage. I prefer mason jars. Oil might rise to the top over time. Simply mix the oil back into the peanut butter with a wooden spoon.

TIDBITS

1) Each American eats seven pounds of peanut butter a year. It’s a federal law dating back to the drafting of the Constitution. Georgia simply would not sign the great document unless its mighty peanut industry was protected. After much negotiation, the states agreed on seven pounds per person per annum. Georgia signed and America had a basis for strong government

2) Some people spread out their required peanut-butter consumption evenly over the entire year. This comes out to .3068 ounces per day. To achieve such precision, people need sophisticated scales. This need explains why American kitchen scales are the envy of the world. Indeed, NASA uses these scales in its space programs.

3) Other people eat all their peanut butter in one day. Pause and reflect.

4) Americans could fill the Grand Canyon with all the peanut butter that eat in one year. This actually happened on April 1, 2000. It was a glorious occasion with millions of loaves of bread being flown and trucked in. Thousands and thousands of trucks that normally hauled crude oil were converted to dispense grape and strawberry jelly. And the toasters! Oh, they were everywhere. People said nice things to each other except, of course, for those with peanut butter stuck to the roof of their mouths.

5) Unfortunately, this happening could not become an annual event. Many tourists, especially those from countries with low peanut-butter consumption, insisted of seeing the Grand Canyon in its peanut-butter free glory.

6) We also cannot forget the frenzied riot that took place between the smooth-peanut-butter fanatics and the chunky-peanut-fanatics. Culinary historians still shake their heads when they contemplate how close America came to civil war. It certainly affected the presidential election.

7) Speaking of presidents, Thomas Jefferson and Jimmy Carter grew peanuts. Mr. Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence. Two peanuts growers, one Independence writer. We can conclude from this that every other peanut grower in America would write a Declaration of Independence.

8) Or can we conclude this? Thomas Jefferson declared independence from Great Britain. Jimmy Carter couldn’t do the same; we had already severed connections from the mother country.

9) So, who could have Mr. Carter declared independence from?

10) From America. Jimmy Carter could have penned a declaration of independence for Georgia from the United States. He didn’t, of course, but it was a near run thing.

11) In 1980, American lawmakers mindful of the horrifying carnage of the War Between the States in 1861-1865, passed a law requiring all peanut farmers to sign an annual pledge not to make their state secede from the Union.

12) Or at least to grow onions as well. No onion farmer has ever written anything advocating independence. Onion farmers are a rather down to earth sort of folks. Thank goodness.

– Chef Paul

LutheranCookbook

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and my newest novel, Do Lutheran Hunks Eat Mushrooms, are available in paperpack
or Kindle on amazon.com

The cookbook is also available as an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, history, humor, politics | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Khachapuri (Georgian cheese roll)

Georgian Entree

KHACHAPURI

INGREDIENTSKhacapuri-

¾ cup milk
1 teaspoon sugar
2½ teaspoons yeast
1 tablespoon olive oil
2⅔ cups flour (4 additional tablespoon later)
¾ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon flour (3 additional tablespoons later)
1 tablespoon butter (2 additional tablespoons later)
1 pound Muenster or mozzarella cheese
½ pound feta cheese
¼ pound ricotta cheese
2 eggs (2 additional eggs later)
2 tablespoons flour (1 additional tablespoon later)
1 tablespoon flour
2 eggs
2 tablespoons butter

SPECIAL UTENSILS

parchment paper or at least, no-stick spray
food processor
2 x 9″ pie tins
clothes dryer

Makes 2 loaves. Takes 2¾ hours.

PREPARATION

Add milk and sugar to small pot. Cook on low-medium heat until mixture is lukewarm. Stir constantly. Remove from heat and add yeast. Stir until well blended. Let cool for 10 minutes. Add olive oil, 2⅔ cups flour, and salt. Stir until mixture becomes a lumpy dough ball. Let sit for 30 minutes.

While dough ball sits, dust a flat surface with 1 tablespoon flour. Add dough ball to flat surface. Knead dough by hand until you are at peace with the world or 8 minutes. Grease large mixing bowl with 1 tablespoon butter. Add knead dough ball to greased, first mixing bowl. Turn dough ball around until it’s coated with butter. Cover bowl and let sit for 1 hour.

While dough rises, cut Muenster and feta cheeses into ½” cubes. Add grated Muenster, feta, and ricotta cheeses to food processor. Blend until only a few cubes remain. Add 2 eggs and 2 tablespoons flour. Blend until mixture is smooth. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

After dough has risen, dust flat surface with 1 tablespoon flour. Add dough ball to flat surface. Flatten dough ball with hands. Divide dough ball in half. Flatten dough halves until they are 11″ wide and about ⅛” thick. Add parchment paper or no-stick spray to pie tins. Add flattened dough halves to pie tins. Add half of cheese/egg/flour mixture to center of each dough half. Pull edges of dough to the center until there is only a round 1″ hole in the middle. Pinch edges together.

Bake for 15 minutes at 375 degrees or until bread loaves are starting to brown. Use spoon or shot glass to press a 3″ hole in the center of the loaves. Add an egg to each 3″ hole. Bake at 375 for 15 minutes or until loaves turn golden brown and eggs are slightly set. (The eggs will continue to cook after being removed from the oven.) Remove from oven and brush each loaf with 1 tablespoon butter.

Serve hot to adoring guests. Put pairs of unappreciative guests in pairs of matched socks. Put sock-clad guests in clothes drier. When one of the matching socks disappears, as often happens, it’ll take one of the complainers with it. Repeat until your home has only happy people in it.

TIDBITS

1) This entree is from the country called Georgia. This Georgia is near Russia and Iran. There is also a state in America called Georgia. It is near Florida, Alabama, Tennessee, and South Carolina.

2) Both Georgias are named after Madamoiselle Georgia Chat. We know little about Mlle. Mousse save that she was born in Tours, France about 708. She was also extraordinarily beautiful. Okay, we know that. Oh, she was also fabulously rich. All right, we know that as well. So, you’d think she’d be a hot marriage prospect for all the local barons. Why did she never marry?

3) Mademoiselle Georgia never considered giving up her independence and she had a giant, pet rabbit Snuggles to protect her. How gigantic? Sources yield varying heights from twelve feet tall to the preposterous sixty-seven feet. Given the fact that Snuggles was also a ninja, you can see why the local nobility thought twice before courting her. On it went. Georgia performed scientific experiments. She even invented the briquette for barbecuing while Snuggles swung his one-ton hammer. at local lords and door-to-door salesmen.

4) Then in 732, Abd Al-Raman with his Berber tribesmen invaded the Frankish kingdom. The Franks assembled their forces at Tours under Charles the Pippinid. The Muslim Berbers were famed for their cavalry. The Franks had the fiercest infantry in all of Europe. Unfortunately, the Franks at the time were notorious for their allergy to horses.

5) The Muslims should have won. Europe should now be eating koushry instead of croissants. What happened? Snuggles happened. He shoved his way past the sneezing Frankish infantry and swung his mighty hammer over and over again at the massed Berber cavalry. Soon, the overmatched Berbers fled, but not before one of them shot an arrow through Snuggles’ heart.

6) Two bards saw the battle and would travel the world singing Snuggles’ praises. One settled in America, the other near Russia. Locals impressed by Snuggle’s deeds wanted to renamed their lands after him, but balked at his cutesy name. They settled on Georgia instead and there you have it.

– Chef Paul

4novels

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and novels are available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, history, humor, international | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Vidalia Onion Rings

American appetizer

VIDALIA ONION RINGS

INGREDIENTSVidaliaOnionRings-

3 medium Vidalia onions or other onions
1¼ cups flour
¾ teaspoon baking powder
¾ teaspoon salt
1 egg
¼ cup beer (8 ounces left in that bottle for drinking, eh?)
½ cup milk
3 cups peanut oil

SPECIAL UTENSIL

electric skillet

Makes 40 onion rings. Takes 45 minutes.

PREPARATION

Peel onions. Slice onions into rings ⅓” thick. Punch out onion rings from slices. Add flour, baking powder, and salt to first mixing bowl.. Mix with whisk until well blended. Separate egg yolk from egg white. Add egg yolk, beer, and milk to second mixing bowl. Mix with whisk until well blended. Add egg yolk/beer/milk mixture to bowl with flour mixture. Blend with whisk until smooth. Add egg white to third mixing bowl. Whip with whisk until peaks form. Fold egg white into bowl with flour/beer/milk mixture. Mix with whisk until well blended.

Add enough peanut oil to completely cover onion rings. Heat oil to 375 degrees. Dip onion rings into batter. Turn onion rings until they are completely covered in batter. Make enough battered rings to cover skillet. Sauté at 375 degrees until onion rings turn golden brown, about 4 minutes on each side. Place paper towel on plate. Place onion rings on towel. Put towel on top on onion rings. Gently push down on towel to remove oil.

TIDBITS

1) Onion-festival groupies will want to know that the Vidalia Onion Festival is held in late April in Vidalia, Georgia and features: onion tasting, cooking demos, concerts, chef competitions, and an onion run. Onions are historically rather sedentary, so this last event is only for the patient.

2) Walla Walla, Washington’s onion festival is held during the first week in June. Go there and watch an onion grow. Again, this is an activity only for the persevering and independently wealthy.. They also have onion bowling. If your onion gives you a 7-10 split, why just eat it. Woot!

3) Go to Weslaco, Texas in late March for its onion festival. It’s the only one with dancing horses.

– Chef Paul

4novels

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and novels are available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bosna (Austrian Sandwich)

Austrian Entree

BOSNA

INGREDIENTSBosna-

12 bratwursts
6 wide rolls
½ yellow onion
1 tablespoon curry
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons ketchup

PREPARATION

Grill bratwursts at low heat for about 5-to-10 minutes or until they start to brown. Turn once. Toast rolls in toaster or panini grill. Slice onion into rings. Place onion rings and sprinkle curry evenly over bottom halves of rolls. Spread mustard and ketchup evenly on top halves of rolls. Assemble roll bottom, 2 bratwursts, and roll top for each sandwich.

TIDBITS

1) For those people who always complain that family vacations are boring, that trips to the Grand Canyon are so old school, may I suggest an exciting tour based on the ingredients of this recipe?

The National Mustard Museum in Middleton, Wisconsin. Come visit the alluring world of mustard.

For the world’s best Dijon mustard, go to Dijon, France and take in the Amora Mustard Museum.

1st German Bratwurst Museum in Holzhausen, Germany. Bratwursts were first mentioned in 1404 and in 1432 became one of the first foods to be regulated. Save your money and fly there.

Vidalia Onion Museum in Vidalia, Georgia, where you can you learn the story of this illustrious sweet onion. “Please do not pick the onions.”

Currywurst Museum in Berlin, Germany. Germans love their currywurst. Indeed, Germany is a great place to do a food-museum trek.

National Bread Museum in Seia, Portugal, where you not only get to see the wonders of bread history, but you get to eat bread made at the museum’s fine restaurant. The museum even has a room dedicated to entertaining children. Does this mean food fights for the kids? They didn’t say.

See these museums without delay. The Yokohama Curry Museum closed its doors in 2007. Do you want to go through life regretting not seeing The National Mustard Museum or the National Bread Museum? I think not.

– Chef Paul

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World, is available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com4novels

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, international | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Peanut-Butter Milkshake

American Dessert

PEANUT-BUTTER MILKSHAKE

 INGREDIENTSPeaBuMS-

3 cups milk
1 cup smooth peanut butter
2 1/2 cups vanilla ice cream

PREPARATION

Put milk in blender. Add 1 cup of peanut butter. Put the peanut butter directly into the blender until the level of the milk reaches 4 cups. (Measuring sticky peanut butter exactly by the measuring cup is a colossal pain.) Make sure, though, that the peanut butter is completely submerged in milk. Similarly, add the ice cream until the milk’s level reads 6 1/2 cups.

Blend the mix at the “milkshake” or “blend” speed until you get your desired level of smoothness. You smooth operator, you.

TIDBITS

1) This has a lot of calories in it. So beware.

2) It sure is tasty, though.

3) I had a peanut-butter milkshake in Plains, Georgia, the hometown of President Jimmy Carter.

4) Everyone told me how I had just missed seeing him by a half hour and how he liked to talk to people.

5) I waited a bit hoping he would come back soon, but he didn’t.

6) I never saw him, ever.

7) Culinary life isn’t always fair.

8) But I’ve gotten over it, mostly.
cover

My cookbookEat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World, is available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Baked Garlic Squash From Forthcoming Cookbook

American Entree

BAKED GARLIC SQUASH

INGREDIENTS

1 big butternut squash
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons fresh parsley
2 garlic cloves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon Vegetable MagicTM
1/2 teaspoon herbes de Provence
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese

PREPARATION

Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Cut off skin of squash. Remove pulpy bottom of squash and discard. (Put in recycling bin if your community recycles squash pulp.) Cut remaining squash into one-inch cubes. Melt butter. Mince garlic cloves.

Mix butter, olive oil, parsley, garlic, salt, vegetable spice, herbes de Provence, and Parmesan cheese in 2-quart baking dish. Add squash cubes. Stir and turn cubes until they are well coated with the mix.

Bake dish at 425 degrees for about 50 minutes or until squash is tender.

TIDBITS

1) Don’t waste this tasty dish on kids who might look at it and say, “Ew, squash. I don’t like squash. I won’t eat it.” Good. More for you.

2) The USDA said that a 3/4 bushel of small, Georgian yellow crookneck squash costs from $8.00 to $10.35.

3) Some raw squashes can make men jealous. They’re probably the ones that cost $10.35.

4) Squash is a fruit and was never reclassified by the Reagan administration to become a vegetable.

5) George Washington enjoyed growing butternut squash. It is doubtful that our Revolutionary War against England would have been won without him.

5) The Confederate soldiers in the Army of the Tennessee were called “butternuts” because used dye from the butternut walnut to color their uniforms. The South lost the Civil War.

6) The popularity of the butternut walnut declined forever in the post-war South.

7) Well, it could have happened.

– Chef Paul

4novels

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and novels are available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, food, humor, international, recipes, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Powegian Tomato-Breakfast Soup

American Soup

POWEGIAN TOMATO BREAKFAST SOUP

INGREDIENTS

1/2 white onion
2 garlic cloves
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 8 ounce package pork links
2 10.75 ounce cans condensed tomato soup
2 10.75 ounce cans filled with water
1 14.5 ounce can diced tomatoes
1 4 ounce can diced green chiles
4 eggs
1 teaspoon Vegetable MagicTM spice
1 cup grated four Mexican cheeses

PREPARATION

Dice onion and garlic cloves. Break pork links into pieces about 1/2-inch long. Melt butter in no-stick or saute pan. Put olive oil, onion, garlic, and pork links into saute pan. Cook for 5 to 10 minutes on medium-high heat or until links are no longer pink and onion starts to brown. Stir frequently.

In the meantime, add condensed tomato soup, the same amount of water, diced tomato, green chiles, eggs, and vegetable spice to a soup pot. Cook on medium-high heat for about 5 to 10 minutes. Stir frequently. (Stir clockwise. Stir counterclockwise. Stir clockwise. Stir counterclockwise. Take up martial arts. Become the next Karate Kid.) Lower temperature to medium. Transfer contents from saute pan and grated cheese to soup pot. Stir occasionally for about 3 minutes.

If you really like this soup, or any other dish in this cookbook, you are only obligated to give each guest one serving. You, the chef, are the only one who knows there is more tasty food still on the stove. Hee hee. Of course, if you are cooking this delight to pave the way to a marriage proposal, you really should consider giving your life long partner-to-be an extra helping.

TIDBITS

1) As far as I know, there have been five versions of the movie, The Karate Kid.

2) The actor, Ralph Macchio, who played the Kid, was 27 years old in the third movie.

3) The Kid was a girl in the fourth movie.

4) The Kid switched back to being a boy in the fifth movie, which took place in China.

5) You cannot just join the Communist Party in China. You have to be invited. Just like to the Masters golf tournament in Augusta, Georgia.

6) I played my only 18-hole golf game the day after a rain storm. The golf balls didn’t roll at all. As soon as they landed after a long drive, they stopped.

7) No fair. If the weather had been fine, I probably could have shaved 75 strokes off my score of 225.

8) Why is it impossible to find a pen in your home?

– Chef Paul

4novels

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and novels are available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

Categories: cuisine, food, humor, international, recipes | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Chicken Scallopini From Cookbook

Italian Entree

CHICKEN SCALLOPINI

INGREDIENTS

2 garlic cloves
2 chicken breasts
1/4 cup flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon sage
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 cup chicken broth
3 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon drained capers
1 tablespoon flour
3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon parsley

(Possibly 2 teaspoons more olive oil. See 3rd paragraph below.)

SPECIAL UTENSIL

cooking mallet

PREPARATION

Mince garlic cloves. Pound chicken breasts to 1/4-inch thickness with clean cooking mallet. If you don’t have such a cooking tool, try putting a few sheets of wax paper on top of the chicken and whack away with a blunt instrument. (And sing, “If I had a hammer, I’d make Chicken Scallopini…” But don’t let your guests hear this. They just might sneak away before the second verse.)

Combine flour, salt, pepper, and sage in mixing bowl. Coat the chicken breasts with this mixture. Cut each breast into three cutlets.

Put broth, water, lemon juice, capers, and flour in second mixing bowl. Mix sauce thoroughly.

Melt butter in no-stick frying pan. Cook on medium high and add olive oil. Place as many cutlets as possible into frying pan. Cook for up to 2 minutes on each side or until chicken turns completely white. Add 1 teaspoon olive oil to the pan each time you cook another batch of chicken cutlets. Remove chicken.

Pour broth/caper sauce into frying pan. Heat on medium high for 1 to 2 minutes or until sauce boils and thickens. Pour sauce over chicken cutlets. Sprinkle Parmesan and parsley over the chicken.

Serve dish to wildly applauding guests. (If they don’t applaud, you still have that mallet, don’t you?)

TIDBITS

1) I read that in 1969 America had 3 billion surplus eggs.

2) Where did they go?

3) Chickens can have four or five toes on each foot.

4) This is probably why you can’t find shoes to fit your chicken.

5) Chicken Little thought the sky was falling. Was this from a meteorite shower? Did Chicken Little collaborate with Sir Edmund Halley?

6) A chicken can live without a brain for a short time.

7) People cannot, contrary to what relatives might say.

8) It is illegal to eat chickens in Gainesville, Georgia without a fork.

9) Chickens can run at a speed of nine miles per hour. If you could get a chicken to run around a track for a mile, it could complete its task in 6 minutes 40 seconds.

10) In high school I could run the mile in 7 minutes 37 seconds. Thank goodness, that chicken in the next lane stopped to peck for worms.

– Chef Paul

4novels

My cookbook, Eat Me: 169 Fun Recipes From All Over the World,  and novels are available in paperpack or Kindle on amazon.com

As an e-book on Nook

or on my website-where you can get a signed copy at: www.lordsoffun.com

 

Categories: cuisine, food, humor, international, recipes, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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