Besides the fact that we look like twins, you'd never guess we were related

On Sunday night my brother was supposed to come over for dinner. At 5pm I called him to confirm he was still coming, and he said he'd be over but that I shouldn't expect him for dinner. When he said this I was relieved because he is a VERY picky eater. Here is a partial list of things he does not like...remember, these are only some of the things he won't eat: anything with tomatoes (except ketchup), salad greens, nuts, carrots, celery, peppers, most fruit, blue cheese, sweet potatoes, mushrooms, pesto, most hard cheeses, most pasta. He basically subsists on a diet of meat, poultry, potatoes, broccoli, shellfish and granola bars. Besides broccoli, I eat pretty little of the things on his "likes to eat" list (I like everything but the shellfish, but we just don't eat carnivorously very often) so it's sort of difficult to plan a dinner that both of us will enjoy.

I've not been in a good cooking or eating mood lately. Nothing's been appealing to me. So when Javert suggested fancy grilled cheese sandwiches, I was happy and excited. Finally, something I actually WANTED to eat and therefore cook. And I didn't have to worry that my brother wouldn't like it, because he wasn't coming to dinner! These sandwiches consist of blue cheese, honey, chopped walnuts and thin apple slices on sourdough bread. We cook them in the frying pan just like regular grilled cheese and they are delicious. I decided to make a side dish of roasted sweet potatoes and mushrooms.

Now, maybe you didn't notice, but my ingredient list for dinner overlaps almost entirely with things-my-brother-does-not-like. That was okay, because he told me that he was not going to eat with us. Until he called as we were walking to the supermarket and said "Actually I will be eating dinner with you." Those of you who know my brother know that this is totally typical behaviour from him. He had invited himself over in the first place, then declined dinner, and then requested it 20 minutes before actually arriving on my doorstep. I asked him "Ooooh. Do you like blue cheese?" He said "Don't worry, I'll eat whatever you have." Thinking he was being honest and that maybe he'd become more open-minded about food, I did not change my plans. We bought the appropriate ingredients and went home and made dinner.

Suffice it to say that my brother did not like dinner. He ate a slice of plain bread and two Oreos that a friend had for some reason left in my kitchen. I offered to make him a sandwich without blue cheese (out of all his dislikes, this one is the most understandable. Probably more people dislike blue cheese than like it. These people are crazy and one of them is probably near you RIGHT NOW.) He said no, make me a normal sandwich, and I did and of course he hated it and proceeded to disect it and then eat only the crust. He said he would have liked it if it hadn't had the blue cheese. He didn't touch the sweet potato dish, but I didn't really expect him to.

I feel kind of bad about this, because I should have known he would probably end up eating at our place, but frankly I was surprised that he actually showed up. Last time he said he was coming over he went to Baltimore instead and didn't tell me!

Insomnia 2: My Brain Foams Over

This must be happening because last night a friend asked if I still had insomnia and I said no. Apparently I'm a liar. Anyway....

So I got home last night and waiting for me in my mailbox was an issue of Knife Merchant catalogue. It was addressed to me, not Javert. Did I order this? No. You all probably don't believe me and now think I'm some sort of creepy knife enthusiast who enjoys war or an unhappy 13-year-old boy making plans to do away with his teachers. I assume I got on the Knife Merchant list through Cooks Illustrated, because the knives all had to do with cooking (Javert was considerably less excited about the catalogue when I told him this), and because there is a section devoted to pots and pans and kitchen tools, and because CI recommendations are highlighted in pink. This is just yet another way in which CI cannot get their act together. Yet I continue to use their recipes.

Unfortunately the last thing I attempted to cook was not featured in CI. Perhaps I should have understood that as a reason why I should not attempt it. Here's the story: I made polenta on Tuesday night and Wed. was looking forward to turning the leftovers into fried polenta. I had mashed the polenta into a baking pan and refrigerated it overnight and then planned to fry it in the smaller of our two cast iron pans (we do not use non-stick pans). Now you need some back knowledge...Javert likes to save our frying oil and reuse it at least once. The last time we reused oil was to fry tortillas into taco shells and everything worked fine. But the time before that, when we used old oil to fry falafel, disaster occurred! All the oil in the pan foamed up, to the point that we couldn't find the falafel balls anymore and they all fell apart as we searched for them. I worried that we'd never be able to make our own falafel, but after yelling at Javert (sorry Javert!) I tried again with new never-been-used oil and things worked as they should and we had a delicious dinner. Incidently, I had leftover falafel for lunch the next day, and then we drove to Baltimore to see my parents who offered us yet more falafel for dinner.

Anyway, on Wednesday night Javert used old oil to fry the polenta and almost killed us. He put about 1/2 an inch of oil in the pan and added only one little square of polenta and it foamed up and all the foam overflowed onto the stove and burner, which was still lit till quick thinking me screamed at him to turn it off so we could avoid an actual fire. The oil continued foaming over the edge of the pan for a good five minutes, maybe even longer, after it was removed from the heat.

This incident scared us but we were determined to eat fried polenta for dinner. For some (idiotic) reason, instead of trying again with fresh oil in the bigger frying pan--a proven solution to the foaming problem--I decided I'd oven-fry the squares on a baking tray. I heated up some fresh oil on a tray and when the oven was ready I put the squares on the tray and returned it to the oven. Mere minutes later smoke was pouring out of our oven and we had to deactivate the smoke alarm so as not to wake the neighbors. The polenta was completely uncrispy. In fact it was downright soggy. Turning down the oven did not help in terms of crispiness, but we had to if we wanted to avoid having to evacuate the building (it was A LOT of smoke). Finally we gave up and took the now greasy and goopy mess of polenta out.

Javert got a little scared of me at this point, since normally I get angry when things don't work out in the kitchen, and since this oil thing was his fault AND the second time it had happened he had good reason to be concerned. But I'd had a glass of wine so I was considerably less mean than usual and I simply suggested that we have pasta instead. Luckily we have an emergency supply of dried pastas so we decided on elbow macaroni and forturnately it cooked normally and tasted good. I did yell at Javert a little, because he is so damn optimistic about these food disasters and was trying to salvage the polenta way after it was clear it was inedible. We did scrape off the mostly ungreasy top layer and eat it though, before throwing the rest in the garbage.

I've never almost had a grease fire before and it was a little exciting. I was on the phone with my mom right after this happened and she said "Oh, you better keep the baking soda out to put on the fire." I felt very smug when I told her it was already out. (She doesn't need to know it's out just because we bought it at Shop Rite and havent put it away yet.) Javert then yelled "We have a fire extinguisher and we'll use that in case of fire" or something equally logical and slightly annoying but my mom is now sufficiently relieved that we have multiple ways of putting out various small fires in our apartment. I'm sure using a fire extinguisher would be MUCH messier than using baking soda, but probably is more effective. But honestly I didn't even remember that baking soda goes on a grease fire. I distinctly remember thinking as I yelled for Javert to turn off the stove that if flames did occur, I would smother them with a dishtowel. I think we can all be happy that I didn't need to put this plan into action.

My friend said she'd ask her sister who is a chemist if she knows anything about foaming old oil...but if anyone else knows I'd be excited to hear why it occurs.

The one where we go to NJ and get dishwashing detergent but not lightbulbs.

This weekend, Javert and I went to New Jersey to see some of his family. In keeping with our tradition, we went to the supermarket after our visit, to get a fuller taste of the suburbs and to buy some products (namely Turkey Hill Choco Mint Chip Ice Cream) that we cannot get at our local supermarket. Again we picked the Shop Rite in Bloomfield.

As I mentioned before, this store closes at 10:00 pm, even on the weekend. As usual, we arrived at 9:30. The whole time we shopped the store kept making announcements--"The Shop Rite will be closing in 20 minutes. Please make your selections and head to the front of the store to check out. The Shop Rite will be closing in 10 minutes..." etc. I spent the entire time in a rising state of anxiety, telling Javert to "HURRY UP! They're going to close. HURRY!" This frenzy caused me to forget to buy three-way lightbulbs, which were the one thing we actually needed. I don't know what they'd really do to a person who wasn't quite finished shopping at 10:00, but I also don't really want to find out, because I have a feeling it would be embarrassing.

Because I was rushed, I couldn't fully appreciate the Shop Rite's vast product selection. This store is SO BIG. They have 3 different kinds of Frosted Mini Wheats, and it took forever for us to find the "real" version (which we ended up not even buying). They carry Rachael Ray's magazine, which I almost purchased for my mom. Side story: My mom called me up the other day and asked "Who is Rachael Ray and why does every food product in my kitchen have a picture of her on it?" I momentarily wondered how I can consider myself close to a person who a. doesn't know who Rachael Ray is and b. doesn't know of my hatred for Rachael Ray. I then tried to explain who she is and that she must have had some kind of deal with Nabisco. And then my mom said "Well she's on all the food here and it's freaking me out." Which has to be the coolest thing she's ever said, ever, so much so that I had to stop talking to her and tell Javert immediately.

Back to Shop Rite. They also carried multiple sizes of the dishwashing detergent capsules I mentioned in a previous post. I received a request for an update on that post, so I'll give you the full story here: Shortly after writing that post I bought the capsules. They come in a zip-top bag and they smell FANTASTIC. All that smelly goodness is contained within the bag, so that each time you open it you're hit with that delicious odor. As for the pellets themselves, one side is all hard, packed with detergent powder, but the other side is this plastic-encased smooth blue gel that I want to rub all over my face and then bite down on. Sadly I have not yet done so, because I'm the type of person who follows the directions on the package, and these tell you to use dry hands when handling the capsules and to spend as little time as possible touching them.* There are also detailed instructions on what to do if you ingest the insides by accident. If not for these warnings, I'd be holding (caressing and/or nuzzling) one smooth pellet right now.

Clearly this was the best purchase of the night. We bought a 28 pack, which means we now have about 38 pellets at home, waiting to be fondled and smelled and this sounds like I have a real problem, doesn't it? [editor: yes. She does. It's one of many.] I'm not even sure if these things work any better than the powder did, but there is no way I'm switching back.


* Javert actually read these instructions out loud to me when we opened the package for the first time, to reinforce them and make sure I don't kill myself.

Insomnia

I thought about this a few days ago when I woke up at 4 am and couldn't go back to sleep. Tonight its 3:30 and I decided what the hell, I might as well do it. It's insomnia blogging! I know the reason why I can't fall back asleep, but I'm not going to discuss it here. Instead, I'll talk about something else, ANYTHING else, to get myself back to sleep, maybe bore you readers to sleep, and we'll see if anything I write makes sense in the morning.

This keyboard is seeming awfully loud right now. I hope I'm not bothering Javert! I can hear rustling from the bedroom but unless I want to sit on the toilet, I can't really go anywhere else in the apt.

Let's talk about my experiences the other day in the Super Fresh in Timonium, MD. Javert, my mom, my grandmother and I were forced to go there when our trip to Wegmans was unfortunately rendered impossible due to traffic. After sitting in traffic for nearly an hour (and going all of 4 miles) we decided to get off the highway and find the nearest grocery store. It was 5 pm and I was making dinner for 7 people. We needed a green vegetable, carrots, chicken broth, eggs, and whole chickens.

First of all, this store was almost empty. I think there may have been 20 other people shopping there. That's not a lot. It's always kind of creepy to be the only people in the market at any given time.

Second, my grandmother is not so great at walking these days and so she requested a wheelchair from the shopping cart attendant. Instead he brought her one of those motorized scooter shopping carts. You may remember this device from a certain Seinfeld episode, or you may have used one yourself. My grandmother, however, had not used one before and got a little power happy driving it. Maxing out the speed at 1 mph, she told the 3 other customers we encountered to watch out. It was really funny watching her, I'm not sure why because she is fine to drive a car and was manuevering just fine...but maybe anyone riding these things is funny?

Third, the store did not have any plain whole chickens. Okay, they had Purdue oven stuffer roasters but neither my mother nor I will buy Purdue (yay mom!). The only other choice was already seasoned chickens (a product which I did not know existed) or frozen birds (unacceptable for a dinner in 2 hours). My mother asked the butcher if there were any chickens, and the butcher looked at us like we were out of our minds crazy. I mean, we were in front of a giant refrigerator case full of chicken and were asking her where the chicken is, so that pretty much makes sense.

SuperFresh did have Silly Putty, which I saw and commented on. I still remember fondly the time my family was in Rehoboth Beach at the toy store and my mom said to me and my brother, "Pick out a toy." We were like "What are you talking about and where is our real mother?," but she said "No, I'm in a good mood, pick something out." I choose blue silly putty and singlehandedly began the 5th grade silly putty fad at my school! Anyway, at Superfresh my mom said "Oh you want that?" and I was like "Of course," and moved on to the chicken. She said "Seriously, do you?" and I said YES and she went back for it and bought it for me! Too bad I don't have any way of starting a fad now. And I have to keep the putty locked up so it remains free of cat hair and also because my hands and wrists hurt like hell these days (I am sure typing lying down on the sofa is not helping this.)

We ended up having to go to a second supermarket (Hello Giant!) to get the chickens. This entailed me and my mom yelling at Javert, who was driving, and forcing him to make at least two illegal turns. He was not pleased. At least the Giant had chicken.

Dinner was great. I made butterflied roasted chicken with a mustard gravy, roasted potatoes, wilted chard, glazed carrots, and fresh challah (I made this a few days in advance). Unfortunately my plans for dessert did not work out--I forgot to get butter and flour, and my parents didn't have any, and I was NOT going to any more supermarkets. So on his way, my uncle bought a cake that turned out to be delicious and also had actual squares of Ghirardelli chocolate on it.

The dinner was for my dad's birthday. He's not so young anymore. After dinner Javert called his own dad, because guess what? Our dad's have the same birthday (day, not year.) They LOVE this and try to out-do each other with cards and phone calls.. It's adorable.

After dinner I curled up in front of the fire in my parents living room and fell asleep. Yes I did, and man do I wish I could fall asleep right now.