Dear Reader,
Here is a really lovely video from photographer William Hereford. When I make dinner, there isn't somber Yves Montand playing in the background, but I wish there were. Must make a mental note to download some today. This video is really stunning, and I could certainly learn a thing or two from him. Well done, Mr. Hereford!
Cooking Dinner Vol. I from William Hereford on Vimeo.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
What To Listen To, Podcast Edition.
Dear Reader,
Before you pack up the car and head out on summer's ritual road trip, here are my recommendations for what to put on your iPod for the journey. I love podcasts, and there are a few to which I am addicted.
First and foremost there is Stuff You Should Know. I love these guys. Josh and Chuck are hilarious and explain, in terms you can understand, some of the coolest stuff in the world. Literally, it's stuff you should know. And they do good things, too. I'm on their Kiva team, and you should be, too.
Stuff You Missed In History Class is also from the good people at HowStuffWorks.com. These ladies are very smart and will have you, if not actually reading histories, then vowing to at some later date. The podcasts about the Tudors and the Stuarts are particular favorites.
Radiolab from WNYC is totally cool, sort of like This American Life's cooler younger brother. Here is a little video that goes along with their podcast called, Words.
You can literally download hours and hours of these for free, and maybe learn something while you're at it! Go figure.
Before you pack up the car and head out on summer's ritual road trip, here are my recommendations for what to put on your iPod for the journey. I love podcasts, and there are a few to which I am addicted.
First and foremost there is Stuff You Should Know. I love these guys. Josh and Chuck are hilarious and explain, in terms you can understand, some of the coolest stuff in the world. Literally, it's stuff you should know. And they do good things, too. I'm on their Kiva team, and you should be, too.
Stuff You Missed In History Class is also from the good people at HowStuffWorks.com. These ladies are very smart and will have you, if not actually reading histories, then vowing to at some later date. The podcasts about the Tudors and the Stuarts are particular favorites.
Radiolab from WNYC is totally cool, sort of like This American Life's cooler younger brother. Here is a little video that goes along with their podcast called, Words.
You can literally download hours and hours of these for free, and maybe learn something while you're at it! Go figure.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Hudson River Creamy Corn Chowder
Dear Reader,
I don't know about you, but I am ready for these long and humid summer days to be over. I yearn to put away the salad spinner and break out my Le Creuset cookware. My kids are driving each other nuts, which is in turn driving me nuts, which in turn drives my kids even further to the far edge of nuttiness. This morning, in search of a little adventure, a friend and I took our kids on New York City's FIREBOAT. I had heard of this boat before. It is in fact a little famous, being the subject of the succinctly titled children's book Fireboat.
It sounded like fun. Rendezvous at Pier 66 at 9:30 AM for a quick chug down the Hudson and back. The website warned, "You might get a little wet," so I packed our snacks in a baggie, brought along an umbrella and some extra sweatshirts and headed out.
Today is the first day of summer that seemed like it might be sort of rainy, so of course we couldn't get a cab. I hopped on the bus along with six hundred other people and crawled across town. The kids and I pushed our way out when we reached the river and ran as fast as my daughter's flip flops would allow. We got on board just before The Harvey pulled out.
A very nice gentleman told us the horn would be a little loud, and offered as an aside, "The only place you're not going to get a little wet is inside with the Captain." We laughed, and hoped it wouldn't rain. We headed down the Hudson along with a well-dressed guy from Fox News who was covering today's mission. Apparently a man has paddled his surfboard all the way from Key West to NYC, and The Harvey was welcoming him to Manhattan. Clearly this man left before Shark Week, because I wouldn't get on a surfboard in the Hudson River if you paid me.
We took pictures, ate pretzels and pointed out New York City sights to the kids.
You know, all the big attractions. Up ahead we could see the surfer paddling down by South Ferry. We waved.
Then we heard over the loudspeaker, "Water."
There was a crushing, clanging sound and suddenly rust colored gushes appeared from around the taps, flooding the floor we were standing on. I looked up and giant plumes were shooting into the air. Miraculously we weren't getting wet at all! We took pictures.
Then the Captain turned the boat around, and thousands of gallons of brackish water from the Hudson River came crashing down, kids were screaming, as all Hell broke loose. I tried desperately to keep my phone dry in my pocket, even as I could feel the water pooling in my underwear. My daughter was hysterical, panicking, screaming, "Mommy! Make it stop! Make it stop! I want to go home!" She tried to climb down the ladder to get inside, but the water was worse down there, and I was worried she might get shot over the side into the river. We clung to each other, a huddled mass, yearning to breathe free, or breathe at all, tempest-tost off the coast of Battery Park City.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I tried to cheer up the younger kids who were still crying and show them that really, this was very funny. We all took a deep breath and were just about to laugh when we heard, "Water."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed my daughter. I grabbed onto her before she could throw herself overboard. Like a monkey I carried her down the ladder and below deck. We were soon joined by the others, all of us stuffed in the tiny room like steerage passengers on the S.S. Ramshackle. The man from Fox asked if he could please, please, get off the boat. The Captain nosed up to a dock and the intrepid reporter leaped off as the Captain joked he was going to quickly throw the boat in reverse. "What's one less reporter from Fox News?"
We waddled to find taxis, came home, showered and put on our winter clothes. I made a delicious corn chowder, adapted from the Fields of Greens cookbook by Annie Somerville my mother gave me. It seems I had found that rarest of days: one when you hunger for warm, thick, comforting soup, and corn is actually in season.
You will need:
7 cups Corn Stock
5 or 6 ears corn, kernels removed
1 pound potatoes, cubed
Salt and Pepper
Brandy
2 bay leaves
1 Tbs. butter
1/2 Tbs. olive oil
Robe
1 large onion, diced
1/4 tsp dried basil
1/4 tsp dried thyme
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 rib celery, diced
1/4 cup dry white wine
2 Tbs. chopped fresh basil
Tabasco, or other hot sauce
Dump sopping wet clothes in the washer, and bundle up in your coziest robe. Turn on the television for the children and heat up corn stock in a pot. Add 2 cups stock, all but 2 cups of kernels, and half of the potatoes to a soup pot. Season to taste with salt and pepper. The stock should be slightly less salty than the gallons of Hudson River water you ingested this morning. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes while you take a steaming hot shower. Puree the corn and potatoes with a few cups more stock in a blender, being careful that none shoots out the top like the freezing geyser that rained on your head earlier. Pour it back into the pot with the rest of the stock, bay leaves and simmer over low heat.
Meanwhile, brandy is in order. If you don't have a Saint Bernard, you'll have to get it yourself. Three glugs should do it. Heat the butter and oil in a pan and saute the onions, dried herbs and some salt and pepper, until the onions are as soft and soggy as the sneakers you left outside your door. Add the garlic, celery and the rest of the corn and potatoes. Cook until everything is soft, add the wine and cook a few minutes more.
Mix everything together, season with salt and pepper and cook for 20 minutes more while you watch iCarly with the kids. Stir in basil and enjoy with spritz of Tabasco, being thankful that school will be starting soon.
I don't know about you, but I am ready for these long and humid summer days to be over. I yearn to put away the salad spinner and break out my Le Creuset cookware. My kids are driving each other nuts, which is in turn driving me nuts, which in turn drives my kids even further to the far edge of nuttiness. This morning, in search of a little adventure, a friend and I took our kids on New York City's FIREBOAT. I had heard of this boat before. It is in fact a little famous, being the subject of the succinctly titled children's book Fireboat.
It sounded like fun. Rendezvous at Pier 66 at 9:30 AM for a quick chug down the Hudson and back. The website warned, "You might get a little wet," so I packed our snacks in a baggie, brought along an umbrella and some extra sweatshirts and headed out.
Today is the first day of summer that seemed like it might be sort of rainy, so of course we couldn't get a cab. I hopped on the bus along with six hundred other people and crawled across town. The kids and I pushed our way out when we reached the river and ran as fast as my daughter's flip flops would allow. We got on board just before The Harvey pulled out.
A very nice gentleman told us the horn would be a little loud, and offered as an aside, "The only place you're not going to get a little wet is inside with the Captain." We laughed, and hoped it wouldn't rain. We headed down the Hudson along with a well-dressed guy from Fox News who was covering today's mission. Apparently a man has paddled his surfboard all the way from Key West to NYC, and The Harvey was welcoming him to Manhattan. Clearly this man left before Shark Week, because I wouldn't get on a surfboard in the Hudson River if you paid me.
We took pictures, ate pretzels and pointed out New York City sights to the kids.
Like where they play baseball.
Where my sister lives.
Where their teacher lives.
You know, all the big attractions. Up ahead we could see the surfer paddling down by South Ferry. We waved.
He waved back.
Then we heard over the loudspeaker, "Water."
There was a crushing, clanging sound and suddenly rust colored gushes appeared from around the taps, flooding the floor we were standing on. I looked up and giant plumes were shooting into the air. Miraculously we weren't getting wet at all! We took pictures.
Then the Captain turned the boat around, and thousands of gallons of brackish water from the Hudson River came crashing down, kids were screaming, as all Hell broke loose. I tried desperately to keep my phone dry in my pocket, even as I could feel the water pooling in my underwear. My daughter was hysterical, panicking, screaming, "Mommy! Make it stop! Make it stop! I want to go home!" She tried to climb down the ladder to get inside, but the water was worse down there, and I was worried she might get shot over the side into the river. We clung to each other, a huddled mass, yearning to breathe free, or breathe at all, tempest-tost off the coast of Battery Park City.
And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I tried to cheer up the younger kids who were still crying and show them that really, this was very funny. We all took a deep breath and were just about to laugh when we heard, "Water."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed my daughter. I grabbed onto her before she could throw herself overboard. Like a monkey I carried her down the ladder and below deck. We were soon joined by the others, all of us stuffed in the tiny room like steerage passengers on the S.S. Ramshackle. The man from Fox asked if he could please, please, get off the boat. The Captain nosed up to a dock and the intrepid reporter leaped off as the Captain joked he was going to quickly throw the boat in reverse. "What's one less reporter from Fox News?"
We waddled to find taxis, came home, showered and put on our winter clothes. I made a delicious corn chowder, adapted from the Fields of Greens cookbook by Annie Somerville my mother gave me. It seems I had found that rarest of days: one when you hunger for warm, thick, comforting soup, and corn is actually in season.
Hudson River Creamy Corn Chowder
You will need:
7 cups Corn Stock
5 or 6 ears corn, kernels removed
1 pound potatoes, cubed
Salt and Pepper
Brandy
2 bay leaves
1 Tbs. butter
1/2 Tbs. olive oil
Robe
1 large onion, diced
1/4 tsp dried basil
1/4 tsp dried thyme
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 rib celery, diced
1/4 cup dry white wine
2 Tbs. chopped fresh basil
Tabasco, or other hot sauce
Dump sopping wet clothes in the washer, and bundle up in your coziest robe. Turn on the television for the children and heat up corn stock in a pot. Add 2 cups stock, all but 2 cups of kernels, and half of the potatoes to a soup pot. Season to taste with salt and pepper. The stock should be slightly less salty than the gallons of Hudson River water you ingested this morning. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat, cover and simmer for 20 minutes while you take a steaming hot shower. Puree the corn and potatoes with a few cups more stock in a blender, being careful that none shoots out the top like the freezing geyser that rained on your head earlier. Pour it back into the pot with the rest of the stock, bay leaves and simmer over low heat.
Meanwhile, brandy is in order. If you don't have a Saint Bernard, you'll have to get it yourself. Three glugs should do it. Heat the butter and oil in a pan and saute the onions, dried herbs and some salt and pepper, until the onions are as soft and soggy as the sneakers you left outside your door. Add the garlic, celery and the rest of the corn and potatoes. Cook until everything is soft, add the wine and cook a few minutes more.
Mix everything together, season with salt and pepper and cook for 20 minutes more while you watch iCarly with the kids. Stir in basil and enjoy with spritz of Tabasco, being thankful that school will be starting soon.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Pretentious Pasta Primavera
Dear Reader,
I know it has been quite sometime since I have posted anything, and I promise you, if I had remembered that the last thing I put on here were those DORKY photos of myself, I would have updated a lot sooner. So here is something new to eat.
You will need:
New Yorker tote bag
locally brewed beer
sustainably made shoes
nerd glasses
pasta
wine
garlic
fiddleheads
purple carrots
romanesco
ramps
morel mushrooms
habanero peppers
Good morning Brooklyn! Drink a Kombucha, throw on those Toms shoes, hop on your skateboard and scoot over to the food co-op, but not before telling everyone about your do-gooding on Twitter. Try to make friends with Adrian Grenier during your shift. Decide that he is a stuck-up poser when your advances are rejected. After work, fill your tote bag with fiddleheads, ramps, romanesco, morel mushrooms and a super spicy habanero.
Once home, chop and saute all veggies in white wine and garlic while listening to Radiohead. Invite friends to whom you feel superior over for dinner and a lesson on the rare vegetables you have foraged from the market. They will appreciate it, and at the same time be forced to recognize your intelligence and superiority in all things. Play for them new music that they may not have heard, being less clued in than you are. Toss with pasta with veggies, sprinkle with cheese - not the cheese made from that lady's breast milk. That was a disaster. Chop habanero and mix with guest's pasta for chance to belittle their intolerance to spicy foods. Serve with local beer while discussing Art, Artaud, Proust, Globalization, and whether or not the piano is a percussion instrument. When guests are gone, remove needless nerd glasses and catch up on back episodes of Gossip Girl while drinking your secret stash of Zima.
I know it has been quite sometime since I have posted anything, and I promise you, if I had remembered that the last thing I put on here were those DORKY photos of myself, I would have updated a lot sooner. So here is something new to eat.
Pretentious Pasta Primavera
You will need:
New Yorker tote bag
locally brewed beer
sustainably made shoes
nerd glasses
pasta
wine
garlic
fiddleheads
purple carrots
romanesco
ramps
morel mushrooms
habanero peppers
Good morning Brooklyn! Drink a Kombucha, throw on those Toms shoes, hop on your skateboard and scoot over to the food co-op, but not before telling everyone about your do-gooding on Twitter. Try to make friends with Adrian Grenier during your shift. Decide that he is a stuck-up poser when your advances are rejected. After work, fill your tote bag with fiddleheads, ramps, romanesco, morel mushrooms and a super spicy habanero.
Once home, chop and saute all veggies in white wine and garlic while listening to Radiohead. Invite friends to whom you feel superior over for dinner and a lesson on the rare vegetables you have foraged from the market. They will appreciate it, and at the same time be forced to recognize your intelligence and superiority in all things. Play for them new music that they may not have heard, being less clued in than you are. Toss with pasta with veggies, sprinkle with cheese - not the cheese made from that lady's breast milk. That was a disaster. Chop habanero and mix with guest's pasta for chance to belittle their intolerance to spicy foods. Serve with local beer while discussing Art, Artaud, Proust, Globalization, and whether or not the piano is a percussion instrument. When guests are gone, remove needless nerd glasses and catch up on back episodes of Gossip Girl while drinking your secret stash of Zima.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Eclipse is only 21 days away...
In honor of the upcoming release of Eclipse, I wanted to share with you the latest results from my favorite time waster, seeing what I look like with other people's hair, which is what I did while watching The Today Show this morning.
Hello Bella, I love your hoodie. Do you like my fitted sport coat?
I don't know, Edward. I just want you inside me. This is torture. Don't make me wait for the next movie. It's too long!
Don't even think about it, bloodsuker.
Who let the dogs out?
If you even imagine making her one of you, I will eat you alive. Right after I tie my pants to my leg with a little strap. Aarrrrrrrrrf.
Would you guys cut it out already? I'm going home to stare out my window and listen to Muse.
Hi there guyth! I'm Drew. I'll hang out with you while the's gone. Letth party!
It is a pleasure to meet you, Drew. However, you don't smell very good to me.
She smells pretty good to me. Perhaps she would like to accompany me on a peace keeping mission to Africa. I would only require that she takes my six children out for fast food and ice cream three times per day, and to alert the media when I am going to be with my children, so they can take photos.
OMG Africa? Like, I totally love everybody, but I'm not sure I want to go to Africa! Will they appreciate my new 1950'th look? I'm like a bombthell!
I was alive in the 1950's and you, ma'am, are not 1950s.
Can we just keep focused on me? God!
Sorry, Bella.
Yes, I'm so very sorry.
Whatever. Where's Renesmee?
Who?
Renesmee. Our daughter.
That's not until the next book. I read them on the plane to Somalia.
Wait. We have a daughter and you name her... Renesmee?
Yeah. So what?
Seriously? And I'm cool with that?
Yeah. Whatever Edward. I don't have time for this.
Renethmee ith like a really lame-o name!
I agree with Drew. I'm sorry Bella. I'm just not that into you anymore.
Renesmee sounds HOT.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Lovely Day Strawberry Tart
Dear Reader,
Today was gorgeous. I realize I have been remiss in creating recipes for you to enjoy on lovely days such as this, so I offer you a delicious and super easy tart that I made for dessert tonight. Enjoy!
You will need
1 Day
Lots of sleep
Perfect Weather
A nice place in which to live - can be a vibrant city or the fruited plain
Farm or farmer's market
9 Graham crackers
10 almonds
1/2 cup oats
3 Tbs. light brown sugar
Guitar
5 Tbs. melted butter
1 tsp. vanilla
Porn
1 cup Mascarpone
1/3 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup sugar
1 quart strawberries
2 Tbs. Sherry
2 Tbs. Jam
Television
Comfy pants
Cocktail
Begin your lovely day by waking to birds chirping on a clear, crisp morning. Go for a run along a river. Head to the farmer's market and pick yourself up a quart of strawberries. At home, put graham crackers, almonds, oats and brown sugar into a food processor and turn it on while you strum songs by John Denver on the guitar. Pick the songs that don't use any B chords, cause those are too dang hard for this lovely day! Pour in the butter and vanilla and whiz it all up, making silly whizzing sounds as you do.
Heat your oven to 350 degrees, and press the crust into a tart shell. Bake for ten minutes or until as golden brown as your tanned shoulders. Meanwhile, clean strawberries and place them in a bowl. In an adorable little saucepan simmer the Sherry and the jam (I used strawberry cause that was all I had, and it's all good) until it is syrupy. Pour it over the berries.
Take a little time out to enjoy some porn with someone you like. Or, if you'd rather, someone you just met online, in the elevator, or at the farmer's market.
Whip up the Mascarpone, cream, and sugar and spread it into the tart shell. Top with berries and place in the fridge.
Put on your comfiest pants, sit on the couch in front of the television - I am enjoying Antiques Roadshow. Pour a cocktail, such as a Greyhound, into a gigantic glass, and dig in.
Today was gorgeous. I realize I have been remiss in creating recipes for you to enjoy on lovely days such as this, so I offer you a delicious and super easy tart that I made for dessert tonight. Enjoy!
Lovely Day Strawberry Tart
1 Day
Lots of sleep
Perfect Weather
A nice place in which to live - can be a vibrant city or the fruited plain
Farm or farmer's market
9 Graham crackers
10 almonds
1/2 cup oats
3 Tbs. light brown sugar
Guitar
5 Tbs. melted butter
1 tsp. vanilla
Porn
1 cup Mascarpone
1/3 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup sugar
1 quart strawberries
2 Tbs. Sherry
2 Tbs. Jam
Television
Comfy pants
Cocktail
Begin your lovely day by waking to birds chirping on a clear, crisp morning. Go for a run along a river. Head to the farmer's market and pick yourself up a quart of strawberries. At home, put graham crackers, almonds, oats and brown sugar into a food processor and turn it on while you strum songs by John Denver on the guitar. Pick the songs that don't use any B chords, cause those are too dang hard for this lovely day! Pour in the butter and vanilla and whiz it all up, making silly whizzing sounds as you do.
Heat your oven to 350 degrees, and press the crust into a tart shell. Bake for ten minutes or until as golden brown as your tanned shoulders. Meanwhile, clean strawberries and place them in a bowl. In an adorable little saucepan simmer the Sherry and the jam (I used strawberry cause that was all I had, and it's all good) until it is syrupy. Pour it over the berries.
Take a little time out to enjoy some porn with someone you like. Or, if you'd rather, someone you just met online, in the elevator, or at the farmer's market.
Whip up the Mascarpone, cream, and sugar and spread it into the tart shell. Top with berries and place in the fridge.
Put on your comfiest pants, sit on the couch in front of the television - I am enjoying Antiques Roadshow. Pour a cocktail, such as a Greyhound, into a gigantic glass, and dig in.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Ben's Jury Duty Jambalaya
Dear Reader,
I have had a special request for a recipe from my friend Ben, who writes the very informative and hilarious B-Side Blog. He's a wonderful cook and all around great guy who is currently doing time. He writes:
I'm too lazy to actually get out of my chair and open your cook book, but do you have a recipe for jury duty?
Poor Ben is in municipal court. If you're going to be on a jury, you should hope for a nice juicy murder trial, or an assault case like the one I adjudicated last year which inspired this recipe. Shout out to my fellow jurors! Woot woot! NOT GUILTY!
I digress... So Ben, here it is, just for you and those also doing their civic duty. Enjoy!
You will need:
I.D.
12 medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cubed
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 Tbs. Creole seasoning
1/2 onion, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
2 ribs celery, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
Magazines
2 tomatoes, chopped
3 bay leaves
1 Tbs. red chille, minced
Dash Worcestershire sauce
3/4 cup rice
Money for lunch
3 cups chicken stock
1 cup sliced Andouille sausage
The night before reporting for jury duty, put the shrimp and chicken in a large bowl and massage the seasoning into the meat. Also massage your butt muscles because they are going to get a good workout sitting around all day tomorrow. Heat the oil in large pan and saute the onion, pepper and celery until as soft as the pillow you are going to be wishing for tomorrow when the extreme fatigue sets in around two o'clock. Add the tomatoes, chillies and Worcestershire sauce. Add an extra few glugs of oil in honor of the Gulf Coast. Now stir in your rice and add the broth a little at a time. Turn the heat down and let it simmer until the liquid has been absorbed. This should take about fifteen minutes, which is the exact amount of time you are permitted to use for bathroom breaks, if you employ the chronic diarrhea defense. When cooked, add in the chicken and shrimp. While this cooks practice saying the following:
"I don't have a prejudice against the Portuguese, but I do have one against LAWYERS. Especially mealy mouthed DEFENSE ATTORNEYS. I HATE THEM!!! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Woof woof."
"Sorry, I'm so hungover, was out all night doing meth with my mom. Could you repeat the question?"
"What is she accused of? OMG That totally happened to me, too!"
"What do I do for my job? I write a blog, and hence feel compelled to relate to the world the events of each and every day as they occur to me. I write it all down. Sometimes as funny recipes. And I always use real names."
When the shrimp and chicken are cooked, take one shrimp and wrap it neatly in its very own tin foil FEMA house. Put it all into a thermos, with the special shrimp on top. Once at jury duty, open the thermos and let the heady aroma waft throughout the room, handily keeping people from sitting too near. Vow that in five years time, you will simply toss the jury summons in the garbage like everyone else does.
I have had a special request for a recipe from my friend Ben, who writes the very informative and hilarious B-Side Blog. He's a wonderful cook and all around great guy who is currently doing time. He writes:
I'm too lazy to actually get out of my chair and open your cook book, but do you have a recipe for jury duty?
Poor Ben is in municipal court. If you're going to be on a jury, you should hope for a nice juicy murder trial, or an assault case like the one I adjudicated last year which inspired this recipe. Shout out to my fellow jurors! Woot woot! NOT GUILTY!
I digress... So Ben, here it is, just for you and those also doing their civic duty. Enjoy!
Ben's Jury Duty Jambalaya
I.D.
12 medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cubed
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 Tbs. Creole seasoning
1/2 onion, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
2 ribs celery, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
Magazines
2 tomatoes, chopped
3 bay leaves
1 Tbs. red chille, minced
Dash Worcestershire sauce
3/4 cup rice
Money for lunch
3 cups chicken stock
1 cup sliced Andouille sausage
The night before reporting for jury duty, put the shrimp and chicken in a large bowl and massage the seasoning into the meat. Also massage your butt muscles because they are going to get a good workout sitting around all day tomorrow. Heat the oil in large pan and saute the onion, pepper and celery until as soft as the pillow you are going to be wishing for tomorrow when the extreme fatigue sets in around two o'clock. Add the tomatoes, chillies and Worcestershire sauce. Add an extra few glugs of oil in honor of the Gulf Coast. Now stir in your rice and add the broth a little at a time. Turn the heat down and let it simmer until the liquid has been absorbed. This should take about fifteen minutes, which is the exact amount of time you are permitted to use for bathroom breaks, if you employ the chronic diarrhea defense. When cooked, add in the chicken and shrimp. While this cooks practice saying the following:
"I don't have a prejudice against the Portuguese, but I do have one against LAWYERS. Especially mealy mouthed DEFENSE ATTORNEYS. I HATE THEM!!! Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Woof woof."
"Sorry, I'm so hungover, was out all night doing meth with my mom. Could you repeat the question?"
"What is she accused of? OMG That totally happened to me, too!"
"What do I do for my job? I write a blog, and hence feel compelled to relate to the world the events of each and every day as they occur to me. I write it all down. Sometimes as funny recipes. And I always use real names."
When the shrimp and chicken are cooked, take one shrimp and wrap it neatly in its very own tin foil FEMA house. Put it all into a thermos, with the special shrimp on top. Once at jury duty, open the thermos and let the heady aroma waft throughout the room, handily keeping people from sitting too near. Vow that in five years time, you will simply toss the jury summons in the garbage like everyone else does.
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