Zucchini Fritters

This isn't even an original but it's awesome. We came home from Target today and found that someone (hmmmm could it be the grandparents 9 blocks away?)had left us a zucchini in the mailbox. This is not a grocery store type of zucchini. It was a monster. Wrapped in a plastic newspaper bag, it pretty much filled the thing. It was a couple ounces shy of a new born baby.

Being grocer-arily challenged today, I mentally thanked Grams and Pop rather than cursing them and I began to hack away at the squash. This thing had seeds and spongy interior that would would frighten most people. I had to use leverage to cut it with my biggest knife. I finally quartered and deseeded it. That left me with four "zucchini" sized flanks once I tossed the yucky bits.

Zucchini Fritters, cheater style

Grate a shitload of zucchinis on the large side of a box grater. Maybe three or four "traditional" sized zucchinis.

Toss the grated zucchini with a teaspoon of salt. Place it in a colander. Weight it and let it drain for at least 20 minutes.

Turn the oven on to 225 degrees.

Put a heavy (cast iron) skillet on medium/medium low heat.

In a large bowl, beat an egg. Grate or mince a large clove of garlic and whisk in.
Mince some fresh herbs (just a tablespoon or so). I used basil and chives and it was delicious. I think a teaspoon of dried herbs would be good too.

Whisk with the egg. Add the drained zucchini and fluff everything with a fork.

(cheater alert) Grab a box of Bisquick and add at least a half cup. Keep fluffing with a fork and sprinkling Bisquick until a thick batter is formed. I had a tiny bit of feta left over, so I added that as well. It should be somewhere between a bread dough and a batter (like toothpaste with leavening?)

Add oil to the heated skillet and make fritters with two spoonfuls of the batter. Spread them just a bit and let them cook a few minutes. Mine took about 8 minutes per side. I didn't time them. I just watched crappy TLC TV and flipped them when I smelled the browning (for I am a dinner whisperer!)

Put the cooked ones on a cookie sheet in the oven. Add more oil if and when necessary.

Start heating up some marinara sauce for dipping.

Serve with Marinara. Eat loudly and with slurping noises.

Follow the Yellow Brick Raod

I am no closer to a career path, a dream or a 'calling' than I was last year at this time. It's been a year in wine sales, a full year with a holiday season and a summer lull. It is just fine and also way too far away. I can't deal with the commute too much longer but I bristle at the thought of job searching yet again. Searching for what? A messiah job? A blessing that falls in my lap in a terrible economy? Really? Maybe I should just spend my paycheck on lottery tickets.

I am beginning to feel like an asshole and a job hopper. My heart isn't in it. My ass is sore from commuting and my mind is undernourished. Fuck. I really wish I could make someone else choose my job for me. Whenever I try, they inevitably ask me questions, as if I haven't thought about it before.

New dream gigs:

hand painting furniture for rich people's kids
cooking great veggie food for money
teaching people how to use tofu
helping kids make art

hmmmm....I don't sense a million dollar idea yet.

There are no second chances

Strange and random memory got me thinking about somebody today.

I have one friend with whom I went on a date in college. We had a ton of chemistry. Our date was great and fun and giggle filled. He walked me home (college, ah) and we stood looking into each others eyes for a few solid seconds. I broke eye contact first and kissed his cheek or hugged him or something - to this day I don't know why. I definately smelled what he was cooking, but I think I knew if I kissed him, we'd be an instant couple. For a couple years after that we would almost get together, or get drunk and make out. There was a summer where he got back at me by leading me on for a few weeks. We were never single or interested at the same time after that. Now, we keep in touch as old buddies and we're each in other relationships. I strongly suspect that had we kissed that night, my life would have been totally different, at least through college and if I'm being honest, for good. I felt in that moment that I could either jump in, be with this guy and end up married to him, playing tennis and driving a Lexus or I could not.

I'm so glad I chose not to but I really wish there were movie scenarios in real life and I could just peek at what would have happened had I chosen differently. Even if it would just show us breaking up a few weeks later or something. I really suspect that's not the case.

I guess I'm just thinking about how thankful I am that it's Bill whose my fate, my luck of the draw or my assigned partner from whomever is behind the curtain doing the picking. It's a fragile path that could have veered at almost any moment. I could be in Singapore, Little Rock, my hometown.

Drunk? maybe, Nostalgic? yes, Happy? I am

Seven years ago I moved to Chicago from my college apartment and I hated it. I was miserable and I never wanted to stay. I was also unemployed and a loser living in my Mom's new apartment. My options were few. My college boyfriend had talked of heading west to Portland. My best bud and I talked about going to California where you could teach with just a bachelor's degree. These ideas amounted to nothing and I continued to sleep in the corner of Mom's loft in the west loop. Boyfriend faded away and friend moved to Iowa (IOWA, the hell?) for a job. I eventually got a job too, then another. I moved to Logan Square and then Lakeview. I had a roommate. I lived alone. I painted some nice pictures and made a few new friends. Mostly, I remained tightly bonded to my college friends and spent hours on the phone with them. I walked around ethnic neighborhoods and bought interesting spices, incense and crappy shit to tack on my walls. I dated a few dorks. I had a few nice dates thrown in the mix. I walked over the river under stars. I rode the train with a cute guy. I went to Cubs games. I fell in love with restaurants, some fancy and some simple. I became a regular at a bar. Tourists began asking me for directions, imagine that! Even stranger, I knew the directions. I fell in love with a man. I began to sigh as I walked around the pretty parts of the city. The river smelled of sewage and promise. The beaches shined with glass shards and happiness. I defended the corruption and ten percent sales tax to naysayers. I thanked God that I didn't live in my hometown. I fell in love with Chicago but it was not romantic love. It was familial. Chicago will never be my lover. It will always be my big brother. It sheltered and defended me until I was a woman. Now, I am too big to share its quarters. I cannot handle the thin walls of apartments and the smells on the bus. I needed, so desperately, to find a little solace of a home.

I have not typed much of anything, besides work stuff, in a long while. I am typing from my new house, from the computer room, from the suburbs. I love my new house. LOVE IT. I am here with my real love, Bill, our new love, Kobi and my things. Kobi is the best part of having a yard. He is a wiggling 95 pound mass of love and sneezes.

Much of the crap that was once tacked on carriage house apartment walls is here. There is a world map in the guest room. A lovely screen print that my friend Jesse gave me almost a decade ago. My college sheets wait, folded, for guests to come and visit. I am trying to add the new stuff sparingly, so I don't end up with Pottery Barn decor. I have arrived at adulthood and am no longer dragging my feet.

Time is a bitch

Just four days until we close on the house. Just four days until we write a check for 24,000 dollars. Holy crap is that a lot of money. I feel so young but when I look at my hands, they are move crevassed than ever. I am not a girl, or an adolescent or a young lady any more. I cannot smirk about the fact that I support myself. I am no longer the youngest one at work. I am just a regular grown up now. What the hell am I supposed to do with that? Enjoy my never flat belly and boobs that droop? Wonder if I'll ever look in the mirror again and think, "Not bad!" I see why men buy toupees and sports cars. It's fucking scary to know that you can't fall back on your cuteness anymore.

Now, I'll live in the burbs. I joked to Bill that we needed to leave the city and find a town where I'm still young and thin. Now I worry that I'm just the annoying woman making a scene in the corner and swearing that a man once told her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and couldn't believe she was 35, flat out did not believe her! Please, God, don't make me that woman. Not at 28. Please wait a few decades if that is my ultimate fate. Also, no minivans.

Bored

I almost always like my alone time but tonight I feel lonely. I had a long day and skipped yoga when I couldn't get out of work in time. I guess I just need a little mental rest. That's not coming soon with a move in two weeks. FUCK it is scary.

I wish I could play and write music. I think I should learn the guitar. Then I could write songs that make boys want to hang with me. Or I could be the next Tori Amos or whatever and make girls want to hang with me. Yeah...I need to plan a bit more.

I wish I wrote things down more often

I have not posted anything here in a while. We had a sea of weeks of househunting and we have an accepted bid on a bank owned forclosure. I will not break out the party until our inspection has taken place. It terrifies me as this house is sold AS IS.

The winter has melted into a true spring. I practically cried as I drove home in the light today. It was awesome.

Some bad things have happened too. Death has hit too close to home. It is terrible for my dear friend.

My mother is floundering, drinking herself silly and miserable. She needs her dogs back and her life to have a direction. I can't force her or even yell. Nothing helps but I hope she pulls herself together soon.

Other than that, I am trying to keep up with yoga at least weekly and continue to not bite my nails. That is enough for now.

Celery Root Soup

So I bought my first celery root. Last week the run was shining and I had a craving for a celery root remoulade the likes of which I have not tasted since I traveled to France on a whim (can you imagine?) in 1999. I did not even know what it was when I ate it, bravely, at a train station restaurant across from my roommate. I loved it instantly. So, last week in 2009 (ten years - the circle of life - I'm fucking old) I am wandering at Whole Foods and I saw them and resolved to make my own celery root remoulade. But...after I got home I realized the only vinegar I have is sherry, balsamic or the stuff under the kitchen sink that's meant for cleaning. My poor root waited. Tonight, I knew I better get cooking if I wanted to actually use my produce. So, vegetarian celery root soup:

Chop and saute a medium onion in olive oil.
While it cooks, peel and dice one huge celery root, two small potatoes, one carrot and smash a couple cloves of garlic.
Pour a half cup of white wine onto the onions once they have a little color.
Add everyone to the pot
Pour on a few cups of vegetable broth, water and a cup of milk to cover the veggies by an inch. Add salt, a bay leaf and a small pinch of red pepper flakes. Bring to a boil.
Reduce the heat to a bare bubble and leave the kitchen for 45 minutes. When all the pieces are fork soft, turn off the heat and puree. I used an immersion blender with good success. I finished the soup with black pepper and nutmeg.

My bowl received a big pinch of Parmesan and a few drops of truffle oil. Who am I kidding? I ate three bowls plus crackers for dinner. It was good.

A Lull

House hunting, house hunting and more house hunting. That's all I've been doing. I was very into it for a few weeks but then Billy picked up my slack. He's now the one pouring over the listings and running the mortgage calculations. I'm the one who is a little tired of spending our one day off driving around the burbs in our realtor's car. I can't imagine how she must want to throttle us. I wouldn't make it in real estate. I'd hit people like me who cannot make up their minds. So, 40+ houses into the search and we are looking at ONE house for a second time. Why, it's cheap and we both like it. I have no other hobbies and no other accomplishments to show for this winter. I am fat and have a cold sore. My hair has reached another awkward phase. That is my bitching for now.

In good news, I have hope for the spring. Stuff is melting around here and even though I know it will get colder, I think of next year when I will park in a garage and not in a neighborhood where people claim spaces they dig out with lawn furniture.

My boss is both driving me crazy and growing on me. I think I am starting to get him but I'm not sure. Something is off and I think he must have a slight drug problem. No one can work 80 hours a week and stay that chipper naturally. He has snapped at me a few times for no apparent reason. I don't want another passive aggressive boss. I sensed it during my interview but what could I do? I was jobless.

I have chosen to not give a shit about work outside of work. I will put in my time and work hard but I won't fret about upward mobility. This is a job and not a career. That's just fine.

That's why I haven't been writing I guess. I keep spinning options around my brain without getting answers. I need to worry less and drink less, clean more and be a better girlfriend. I am not putting in 50% these days. I think I will paint my fingernails today, read my tarot cards, clean a little and go shopping. That sounds like a nice plan. Superbowl is tonight and I'm hoping he will want to stay home intead of driving out to his buddies' place.

Lazy Single Person Dinner

The world is out of soy. I ate it for dinner. Fake meat riblettes (yum) and edamame with soy sauce. All the soy, like I said. This is the type of dinner you eat when your other half is out of the house. You do not "cook" such a dinner. You microwave the riblette first and then decide you are still hungry a little later. That's known as 'decide between Cheerios and edamame time.' Then you groan at all the work of defrosting the edamame. Man, I have to drain off the water? AND add soy sauce? It's rough. But you suffer through it and make a pile of salty shells that overflows the computer desk. You lick salty drips off your wrist and read dumb websites. You disgust yourself when you almost choke on a particularly hair pod. After that is beer time. I don't know what time comes next but if I had to guess, I'd go with some form of dessert.