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.