BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Damn… Today “snuck” up on me. Seriously… O_o

So, I am so busy that I’m meeting myself coming and going. Just finished prepping elebenty-twelb-bazillion mini tea sammiches for the o-spring’s Tea Party Project with her Gifted Class today. (NO, not THAT kind of tea party, the REAL kind with tea, snacks, and etiquette. You know, the kind you can actually take seriously and not just shake your head…) Anywho, I have tons more stuff to do – and that’s just BEFORE I deliver the sammiches…

So… Here’s a quickie blog. Since everyone is always asking me for recipes whenever I mention foodstuffs, here’s my personal recipe for Cheese Stuffed Cornbread – just like we had last night with the Black Eyed Peas and Smoked Turkey:

Merp’s Cheese Stuffed Cornbread

Wet Ingredients

• 1/2 Cup Plain Yogurt
• 1.25 Cups Milk
• 1/4 Cup Vegetable Oil
• 2 Large Eggs
• 1 TBSP Jalapeño Juice (from jar of sliced Jalapeños)

Dry Ingredients

• 1 Cup Flour (AP)
• 1 Cup Yellow Cornmeal
• 1 TBSP Baking Powder
• 1 tsp Salt
• 1/4 Cup Sugar (Optional)

Other

• Bacon Grease or Lard
• 1 Cup Shredded Cheddar Cheese (Sharp or Mild, your choice)
• Cast Iron Skillet – 10″
• Butter

Preheat oven to 400F. Grease Skillet with Bacon Grease/Lard, set aside.

Beat eggs, then mix together with the rest of the wet ingredients until fully incorporated and smooth. Will be somewhat thick.

Sift together all dry ingredients in a large bowl, make a “well” in the center, and pour in pre-mixed wet ingredients. Stir with a rubber/silicone spatula, using a folding motion, until fully incorporated. Mixture should be wet but lumpy, do NOT overmix.

Pour 1/3 of mixture into skillet and smooth to edges with spatula. Sprinkle shredded cheese on top. Pour remaining 2/3 of mixture on top of cheese and carefully spread out.

Place in 400 degree oven and bake until a toothpick comes out clean. Approximately 30 minutes.

Poke several holes in top with toothpick or fork. Apply butter to top, return to oven for 2-3 minutes.

Serve with Beans, Greens, Soups, or just about anything where cornbread is desired.

Optional: Add crumbled bacon, or minced Jalapeños to the mix.

More to come…

Murv

Okay… For this one we need a little “reminder background.”

First, most – if not all – of you know what kind of books I write. If you don’t, well, then what the hell is wrong with you? I have a family to feed. Go out, buy my books, then come back and read this. I’ll wait for you…

{Insert Jeopardy Theme Here}

There… Much better. So, as you can see, in order to write dark novels about dark things – in particular serial killers and predators – one must do an enormous amount of research into same. Eventually it starts to get to you and makes you a little paranoid. This is exactly why I walk my kid to and from school. By the time I was in the second grade, I was walking myself to and from school, but that was a different time, and it wasn’t as scary – or, at the very least we didn’t know that it was scary. At any rate, the O-spring is way beyond first grade, but I still walk with her. That way, if a predator shows up, I can just kill the bastard and be done with it. ‘Nuff said.

Second – O-spring has a friend living nearby whose parents pretty much feel the same way, but don’t work from home like moi, so they don’t have the flexibility in their schedules to do same. No problem. O-spring, O-spring Friend, and I walk together. Problem solved.

Third – As I’ve noted before, O-spring is freakin’ brilliant. She’s in the Gifted program, qualifies for C4K classes and all sorts of stuff. And, on top of being brilliant she is “gifted”… What that means is that all that brainpower comes with a quirky personality, hyper-excitability, and things like that. Not ADHD, mind you. It’s just a whole different set of personality traits. Because of that, she can be a bit dramatic. Okay… A LOT dramatic. Most of the time. So, when she approaches something in a calm fashion, sans drama, it tends to take you aback…

Where is all this going? Well, I’ll tell you…

We were walking to school, and as per the age bracket, “Dad” being along is just cramping their style, so they tend to ignore the 800 pound, Bermuda shorts, ripped tee shirt, black socks with sandals, worlds greatest dad hat wearing parental unit trundling along behind them. While there is a certain sadness for me in that, I get it. It’s a phase that should end sometime around when she hits 30. All good. Hopefully I’ll still be around. However, by the same token it gives me an opportunity to observe them like a cultural anthropologist or something. They prattle on about the things that are important to their tween brains, and some of the conversations can be a bit off-the-wall.

This past Monday, for instance…

As we came within a block of the school, the overpowering scent of tater tots filled the air. Obviously, “hash brown nuggets” were on the menu for the kids who buy breakfast at school. At first, the O-spring was thinking she smelled waffles. Of course, that’s possible. I’m sure her nose is better tuned than my half-century old olfactory sense. Be that as it may, it’s where things went that took me buy surprise.

O-spring friend, we’ll call her Mary for anonymity’s sake, launched into a sudden rant. It wasn’t terribly heated, but it was definitely lively. The subject? Waffles. It seems that whenever they have “Breakfast for Lunch” at the school, the cafeteria refuses to provide them with plastic knives to cut up their waffles. Per Mary, they cite safety concerns… Howwwwwevvvveeeerrrrrr (trying to write tween here… forgive me) they have no problem at all providing them with a plastic knife whenever they have, oh… say something on the order of turkey and gravy. So, why not with waffles too?

O-spring responded to this with, “I just tear them into strips and dip them into the syrup.”

Mary went on undaunted, “But do they think we are going to do? They say we might break the knives and hurt ourselves. But we can have them with the turkey.”

“I just dip the waffles,” O-spring said again.

“And we can break anything that’s plastic. It could happen with anything, so why just the plastic knives?” Mary’s rant was still gaining steam.

As much as this diametrically opposed behavior surprised me, it was only the cake – I mean, after all, I could see the ramping up out of O-spring, but Mary is usually the calm one. The icing was about to be applied.

Mary started to launch into another litany of observations about plasticware and ridiculous school bureaucracy when my daughter stepped even further out of character. Gently placing her hand on her friend’s shoulder, in a soothing voice she said, “Calm down, Mary. You’re scaring the squirrels.”

I’m pretty sure I ruptured my spleen trying to contain the guffaw that wanted to exit my gut. After all, I didn’t want to be accused of frightening the rabbits. Apparently the wildlife was already tortured enough…

More to come…

Murv