The letter for today is “I” because its a very self absorbed day which only thinks of itself. As some of you may or may not know, this is a thing
and I’m a part of that thing. Check out other parts of that thing and join in the conversation, or just troll the comments, whatever floats your proverbial boat or turns your proverbial crank or greases your proverbial gears or puts wind in your proverbial sails or , worst case scenario, puts hair on your proverbial teeth.
Good news is I made cookies! Kind of! I was going for good old fashioned Doo-Doo Cookies, as i like to call them, but you may know them as Chocolate Oatmeal Refrigerator Cookies or No Bake Cookies, but they are in fact Doo-Doo Cookies…just admit it, you like eating doo-doo cookies, its OKAY..its not really poop..anywho
Mental note for all cookie makers…one CUP of butter is TWICE as much as one STICK of butter. That is why this turned into a Doo-Doo Bark instead of Doo-Doo Cookies….again with the doo-doo?!? my word! good lawd! gracious be!
I didn’t have cocoa powder so i used 60% cocoa dark chocolate chunks instead and put some more dark chocolate ships and white chocolate chips on top..sort of like the Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney video for “Say Say Say” one of my favorite 80’s videos/songs..i actually bought some suspenders and an old fashioned cap to mimic MJ in the video which was better than when i had the pleather Thriller jacket, but that is another horrifically awkward story that involves a straw fedora and white linen pants..ANywh0
here’s some pics
I worked at a little hole in the wall/roach farm/ISS nightmare/underage-beer-provider/ chicken wing and beer joint located on the Strip in the early 90’s named Spicy’s. I worked both in the front and the back of the house at various times and witnessed some kitchen nightmares that would make Gordon Ramsey pee the bed.
As a caveat let me say this: the chicken wings , steak and cheese sammiches, and oriental bbq steak sammiches were ab=so=fucking=lutely deeeeelicious. Most of the recipes came from the original(?) owner, who was Asian. Not sure what part of Asia, but I really only met him once or twice as he rode off to California in his red Corvette( for realsies). The chicken wing sauce was very simple . yet unmatched in all my wing eating travels. The steak and cheeses were simple but fresh cut beef only because it was cheaper to pay someone almost nothing to cut it up than to buy it pre-made. The sauce for the oriental BBQ sammich was a sticky sweet concoction full of ginger and absurd amounts of garlic. However…..
BULLET POINTS OF INSANITY FROM SPICY’S
- We used to buy whole chicken wings and cut them by hand into the little drummies and 2nd joints. We did this by removing the safety guard from the meat slicer and cutting the severing the wings joints upon the spinning blade of doom. It was hugely effective but terrifying.
- I saw the owner “allegedly” thaw a case of frozen chicken wings by running them thru the Hobart with the sopa hoses disconnected.
- Once, to save a buck or two, the owner tried using solid shortening in the fryers. While cleaning it, the shortening overflowed and covered the floor in a congealed mass of discount , off brand crisco.
- Roaches. Napkin Holders. Use your imagination. Then double that.
- Gaggles of 17 year olds drunk on 24 ounce can’s of Foster’s, some of Murvill’s best and brightest at the time
- We once sold 1600 pounds of chicken wings in a single day. This is part of why I really don’t like UT football games. Every Saturday home game is an exercise in torture if you work on the Strip
- Tables of Vol’s linemen on all-you-can-eat wing nights could consume upwards of 50 poounds of wings per table. The most I saw ever was a skinny dude who ate almost 130 wings.
- The owner of the building would sell parking spaces on gamedays, pack the cars in like sardines, and then leave. Noone could get out until the “key” cars were moved. Once mine was a “key” car and it was moved by a gang of about 8 guys into the middle of the street.
- Whiskey. Knives. Hot grease. What could go wrong?
Anywho, here are some posters of sheer awesomeness
I lived in Fort Sanders while pretending to attend college at the University of Tennessee in my early twenties. One house I lived in was on the corner of 11th and Laurel. It is no longer there, but at the time it was a 3 story house converted into apartments, mine being the attic. It had sloped ceilings and a claw foot tub and you could climb out on the roof and yell obscenities at passer-bys with relative anonymity. My downstairs neighbor was none other than Rus Harper of Teenage Love and Neowizard fame, so needless to stay there were occasionally very interesting gatherings. On Saturdays the Big Orange wave of Humanity came crushing down on the Fort and our land/slumlord had a very bad habit of selling off our yard as a large parking lot. We were left to find parking the night before and hope our cars were not towed or carried away by gangs of hooligans.
Anywho, we had us a fine party this particular home game Saturday and were whooping it up on the front porch, hollering rather inappropriate things to pedestrians and their wives and their (sorry)children. After a threat of violence or two the party logically migrated upstairs to the attic and out onto the roof. I was always a little scared to go out there but braved it anyway. We looked down upon the sea of cars littering our normal hang out area and decided they were not nearly orange enough. So. After a short lived and half-hearted look around, we happened upon the orangest thing we could find: American Cheese. Really cheap American cheese-like food product to be precise, which flies remarkably well and makes a lovely splat when meeting a windshield with all the force the three story cheese free fall could muster. After the supply of cheese bombs was used up, we decided the best thing to do would be to leave for the day and seek comfort in the arms of friends outside of the upcoming impact zone of the horrors of baked on “cheese”.
Here are some posters by the way
Ok, I know the song is actually Photograph, singular not plural with the s. Deal with it. That’s how I roll.
Anyway, I got a new phone that does coooool things like take pictures and keep me organized and let’s me play scrabble while driving down I-40 at 85 miles per hour. So look with your eyeholes and leave comments with your fleshy letter poking hand sticks
I have this new panini grill thingy I got from, shudder to say it , Wally World, and i have to say it totally kicks ass. It has flat or grooved platens which are dishwasher safe. That’s right, platens. Look it up. I am a proficient Scrabble player so I already have, so HA! Anyway, this little sucker has a floating hing and can open up flat to form a griddle. It’s like a classy George Foreman grill but without bad-assed infomercials and its not angled to reduce the fat of my 20% fat hamburger that i bought because it had more fat than the ground sirloin. And it’s shiny, or at least it was until I got a hold of it. I am rough on gadgets and really most things. I go through shoes like Trump goes through Russian brides or a hot knife goes through butter or like a hot knife going through a Russian bride. You get the picture. I am the ultimate consumer because everything i touch i wind up breaking and have to buy a new one. Ask the Mrsishungry, she’ll tell you. Go on ask her dammit!
Where was I? oh yeah, so i made some wings. clipped the tips and made some broth while the wings cooked on the grill. I left the two sections connected until after cooking them so they’re easier to handle on the grill. You can also skewer them once you’ve straightened them out by popping that “elbow” joint out, and fit two wings per skewer. Looks cool and is much easier to manipulate on an outdoor, honest to god that thing is on fire, kind of grill. I simply seasoned the little suckers in some commercial Butt Rub brand BBQ salt mixture and slapped them on the aforementioned badassed panini grill thingy and let em cook away. Then they got tossed and sauced( YEAH RHYMING WORDS!!!) and i ate them. I was going to share them with the kids, but then I said to myself , i says, “Self, screw em!” so I ate all the delicious hot sauce and honey laden chicken skin bundles o’ joy.
My lovely and brilliant wife, who is with child as they say, managed to work in three complaints and requests at the same time tonight in one short, direct sentence. She said ” I need to take my vitamins but I’m hungry and its cold.” The nuances of the seemingly innocent statement are as subtle as a freshman year 3rd seat trumpet player. She needs to be fed both an allotment of food and a regiment of nutritive supplement for the growing Babyishungry (yeah for breast milk, but that is another story, on many levels really. OK , I’ve said too much. I haven’t said enough. That’s me in the corner, that’s me in the spotlight…oh, umm, anyway) Not only does she need these critical supplies, she is dependent upon me to prepare and fetch them for her. Also she is cold and apparently does not know how to “operate” a blanket and/or a quilt ( which is also another story on many levels, some of them quite off kilter really.)
Did I mention that she said this on the phone? And that I was driving around with Mikeiskindofhungryforalittleguy listening to college basketball on the radio? Apparently, this is a veeerrrry important variable in this particular equation. I was never that good at algebra or geometry, but thank god the guy next to me was. Soooooooooo, I made the following for the Missus
Peanut Butter and Honey Sushi with Chia Seeds and Strawberry Preserves, with a Side of Prenatal Vitamins
I rolled out the bread , put some good nut butter on it(hee, hee, i said nut butter), followed by some honey, some Chia seeds( yes THOSE kind of chia seeds..they are remarkable little things that fueled the Aztec warriors…curious? try google, ya lazy git), and some strawberry, all fruit preserves…then i rolled and sliced it and served it up on a bamboo platter with a garnish of folic acid and some other crazy pregnant vitamin things that probably make your burps taste funny. Look at the Pics!!! Love Them!!! Comment! Share! Send Cash, we’re(me, not the kids or missus)
low on Beer Money!!!