My Birthday Dinner

I wish I had pictures to share with you of the dinner my most awesome wife put together for my birthday last night but by the time we even thought of a camera, we had attacked the table like the Fantastic Mr. Fox and his family.

As is the custom in our house, the one celebrating their birthday gets to decide on the menu for dinner that night. As always, I chose my wife's Crab Cakes. I also requested a yellow cake with chocolate icing. As for the sides and or anything else, I left that up to my wife to surprise me.

When we first got married my wife pored over cookbooks (still does) looking for new things & ways to cook. She had been brought up in a very traditional italian family so her frame of food reference had been somewhat one dimensional. I was brought up on casseroles, baked chicken and hamburger every way you could. It wasn't until I moved west that I started to think outside of the box and experiment with different flavors & styles. One of the first dishes my wife started to make & perfect was crabcakes. I have always loved crabcakes and I would order them almost every time I saw them on a menu. Now back when we first got married, the budget was bit tighter than it is even now and the crab began with a K instead of a C but they were still good. They were labor intensive but they were a labor of love and I think that alone made them taste better than any Krab with a K should ever taste. as the years went by, they got easier to make and the recipe got tweaked. The biggest change was our shift to the front of the alphabet back to Crab with a C. Well last night my wife nailed them again. She made me crabcakes that were soft, light & melt in your mouth. This time she even served them with a warm & spicy mango vinaigrette that raised them to yet another level. I was in heaven and so were my kids as the crabcakes disappeared quite quickly from the plate in the center of the table.

As one side my wife made an excellent corn & black bean salad from this website (http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Black-Bean-And-Corn-Salad-I/Detail.aspx< ) that we have made over & over again over the years. I like to warm it up after mixing it all together and then letting it cool before serving. It kind of let's the flavors meld together in a real nice way. I think the balsamic vinegar & the cumin help to give it a layer of complexity that you don't really expect in a salad. It looks great on a plate and it is a great dish to take to any potluck picnic you mat attend this summer. The other side was more of an appetizer but also a favorite of mine and a standard dish for every Super Bowl. She made my Deviled Eggs with Cheddar Cheese & Bacon. The kids absolutely love these. Throw some leftover pasta on the table along with some Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips & Salsa and we were more than good to go.

There was one more addition to the menu that was strictly for me. For as long as I can remember my wife has been making me a cold Mango Cream Soup. It's silky smooth and goes down like melted ice cream. Sometimes she throws in berries or peaches to change it up a little and I almost always throw in some Sriracha Sauce or some Tabasco Chipotle to, as Emeril says, kick it up a notch. Last night my wife had found two absolutely perfect mangoes for the soup and it was the best I can remember. I can't wait to get home tonight so I can grab the leftover container and wolf it down while watching Modern Family.

As for the cake, I am traditional. I like a yellow cake with chocolate icing. My mother always threw a box of pudding mix into the cake mix to help make the cake moister and so does my wife. She must have also whipped that batter on high for more than the 2 minutes on the box because my cake was sporting a pouf that would have made Snooki jealous. My kids released their inner Jackson Pollack's and decorated the cake in a kaleidoscope of colors & designs. The french vanilla ice cream was the perfect compliment to the cake and if I am not mistaken, the cake & ice cream combo is being requested for an encore performance tonight.

And that's the view for now from Swampy's Kitchen. Stop by again when we talk about how many leftovers you can throw into a tortilla before the kids notice and start to complain

 

 

The SwampGarden v20.10

Five days a week my existence on this earth pretty much boils down to concrete, metal, glass and an uncomfortable chair behind an old desk. I answer emails, ignore phone calls and push a lot of paper. If I strain my neck when I press my face up against my office window, I can almost see the sky. On Friday afternoons, if I look down, I can see the Mitzvah Tank. When it rains, I ride the E Train. It’s about as far from a bucolic & serene setting as you can get. That’s why this is such a great time of the year. On my other two days, I can escape into my garden. 

 

I never did have much of a green thumb growing up. In college and for a few years after, the only kind of plant that I could consistently keep alive was a cactus and I think the cactus I had in Denver was just too nasty to die because nothing should have been able to live in that apartment. I’m surprised that I did. Though there are some questions as to whether I was actually living in the mid-80’s. I think I may have been in a slideways sort of existence myself but that is really here nor there and not anywhere near the point I am trying to make. That being said, it wasn’t until I got married that I started to think about growing a garden of my own. We started with flowers & herbs in pots on our townhouse deck. We moved onto to bigger pots of flowers & herbs when we bought our first house but the groundhogs figured out how to climb up on the deck so that ended that experiment. I hacked a garden out of the woods at our next house and despite the fact that we were deep in the woods and the sun rarely made it through, I still got a couple of tomatoes and a handful of peppers each year. Finally we moved to the house I will call “The Final Resting Place” because my next move is six feet under and that is as far as I am going. Here we had a huge backyard with a ton of sun and I knew it was time for me to embrace the notion of becoming a “Gentleman Farmer”. 

 

I didn’t just stick my toe in this time with a couple of pots & a small plot. I had a fence 7 feet high built out in my yard around a 50X30 patch of grass. I tore that grass up and worked that dirt. I added topsoil. I added mulch. I did it all by hand. I decided to go all natural too and just do battle with Mother Nature & her host of creepy crawlies in any and every which way I could as long as it didn’t involve chemicals. Most of all, I overplanted. I bought & planted every kind of tomato my local nursery carried no matter what it looked like. I did pretty much the same with the hot & sweet peppers and I planted more beans & squash than I could keep track of or even use. I figured I could grow them all and I would have basket upon basket of fresh produce all summer. To a certain extent, I did.

 

You see what I forgot about was that my wife & kids were going to be away almost the whole summer because of the kitchen construction and with the house ripped up & no one home, it meant I was gone a lot too. The plants took their cue and ran away with it. I had plants stretching & growing everywhere. It was a vast web of shoots, leaves & branches. What was missing was any semblance of order or decorum. Plants went wherever they wanted to go and much like my life in Denver in the 80's, I was their chief enabler. I didn't know how to say no to a plant and I never cut any of them off or short. What I wound up with was a respectable haul that could have been oh so much more. I planned on being more judicious the following year as I hauled away the dead plants & vines on cleanup day.

 

I wish I had remembered my end of season vows when the spring approached. I overbought all the same culprits and I was so excited that I planted them all 2 weeks earlier than I should have. Mother Nature took notice of my eagerness and proceeded to whack me with a heavy very unseasonable two day frost followed by torrential downpours. I tried to rescue what I could and backfilled with late starters. That turned into a mistake as a great number of the frost damaged plants started coming back slowly. Of course I had saved them and then compounded my errors by trying to shoehorn them in wherever I could. Which led to even more overcrowding especially when rogue plants from seeds gone by started sprouting up. Throw in surgery on my arm (no heavy work for what should have been two weeks but turned into four), enough rain to float Noah's rowboat and my garden was once again an underperforming overgrown mess. I was depressed all winter.

 

So this year I decided on the less is more approach toward the SwampGarden. I planned out my strategy with my wife, who this year has vowed to help, and we began our attack. We were going to take a cue from the wild grape tomato that had sprung up in the middle of the Cayenne & Cherry  Peppers last year and completely took over that section of the garden. We were going to give the plants room to grow & flourish. As soon as the ground began to thaw I began to turn the dirt and my wife & children began to rake & pull weeds. We did it again a few weeks later and just like clockwork, the late season freeze came & went but this time there was nothing in the ground but worms. So this past Sunday we went to eat breakfast at the Big Red Barn and then it was off to the local garden store to pick up some plants.

 

The choices, while not as varied as in years past, still were more than this impulse buyer needed to be confronted with at that time. I agonized as I restrained myself from buying two of everything and one of things I knew hadn’t grown in the past just to prove to myself and the dumb plant that I could make them grow. When all was said & done, I walked out with my smallest start of the year purchase and my plan still intact. The list of plants in the ground this year so far is as follows:

 

4 – Supersonic Tomatoes

4 – Beefsteak Tomatoes

4 – Sweet Cherry 100 Tomatoes

4 – Roma Tomatoes

2 – Yellow Pear Tomatoes

1 – Grape Tomato

1 – Better Boy Tomato

1 – Early Girl Tomato

1 – Purple Cherokee Heirloom Tomato

1 – Old German Heirloom Tomato

 

8 – Habanero Peppers

8 – Jalapeno Peppers

4 – Cubanelle Peppers

4 – Sweet Banana Peppers

3 – Italian Roasting Peppers

3 – Red Bell Peppers

3 – Yellow Bell Peppers

 

6 – Red Sails Lettuce

3 – Iceberg Lettuce

3 – Gourmet Head Lettuce

 

We also planted seeds for Italian Green Beans, Bush Snap Green Beans, Patty Pan Squash & Italian Style Zucchini. I also have seedlings working inside the house for Tabasco Peppers & Ancho Peppers but those got a late start and probably won’t come through.

 

When all the raking, hoeing, weeding & planting was finally done on Sunday afternoon, we looked around the garden and we were all pleased. The plants all had room to go forth & multiply. They had room to spread & grow. They had room to be bountiful. And in the back of my mind, I was already plotting & planning on how & where to backfill in the places that I didn’t think there was enough. I am going to need all my strength and a good dose of NO to not give in to those urges.

 

Get ready for the updates. Get ready for pictures. Get ready to live & die my many victories & defeats as I go toe to toe once again with Mother Nature and her many & varied elements meant to destroy my happiness.

 

That is the view for from Behind The Shades…..swampy is gardening….

 

 

Chapter 1 of a longtime work in progress

There was an electricity in the air that even a jaded New Yorker like myself could feel as I stood there on the corner of 36^th Street & 7^th Avenue. The passing crowd almost crackled with anticipation. I was just about jumping out of my skin myself. I looked down at my watch for the thousandth time since I had arrived on the corner and the hands were moving both as slowly as a DMV employee on a Friday afternoon and as fast as a sprinter hopped up on steroids. I mean come on, this was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals we were about to go see and Amy was late. Again.

Amy is my fiancé and is going to be late for her own funeral. It doesn’t matter what time you tell her, she will always be 5 minutes late. Normally I found it to be one of those endearing traits in your soul mate that you overlook but this was Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals for God’s sake. Can’t she be on time just this once ???

As I fidgeted on the corner like I had five too many triple espressos, I finally caught a glimpse of Amy coming down the sidewalk on the other side of 7^th Ave. She hadn’t seen me yet and I could tell that she was happy in her own world. She had a bounce in her step and her honey brown hair shimmered in the early evening lights. As I watched her walk, my heart skipped the extra beat that it did every time I saw her and I forgot about the game for a moment. She finally seemed to sense my presence as she looked over to the corner where we first met and her eyes locked with mine. The smile on her face lit up her eyes like two twinkling stars and she waved to me as she stepped off the corner where she was about to die.

What ? Wait a minute ? Die ? Where did that thought come from ?

And just then I saw the cab shoot out from behind the truck that had stopped for the yellow light rather than gunning through it. The driver was looking into the back seat as the cab lurched forward right at Amy as she stepped out from in front of the truck. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried to run but my legs were both stuck and moving at the same time. I began to sink into the pavement as the scene in front of me slowed to a crawl. My hands hit the pavement as I sunk deeper into the street. Amy didn’t seem to notice. She kept waving as she stepped out into the street. I looked down to see why I couldn’t move my legs & arms and found that I now couldn’t lift my head. It was like someone was holding it down. Not letting me lift it to witness the scene I knew was playing out just feet from my helplessness. I heard the engine gun. I heard the crowd scream. I heard the thud. I fell face first to the ground unable to move. A red high heel came to a stop on it’s side just inches from my face. I could hear sirens in the background approaching fast. They sounded like a mockingbird.

A mockingbird ? Since when do ambulances sound like mockingbirds ? Why am I now on my back ? Why can’t I hear the sounds of the city ? Where was Amy ? The mockingbird was getting louder ?

I opened my eyes and saw the bird outside my window. I was drenched in sweat. My legs were hopelessly tangled in my sheets. My throat was dry. My frenzied heart felt like it was about to explode out of my chest. I couldn’t move but I knew it would pass.

Finally, after a minute, I was able to turn my head to the side and see that it was just a little past 5am. I had had the dream again.

Notes From My Week Up In The Air

(For some reason this didn’t post on Friday – just fixed it now)

 

This week marks a milestone for me, I think. I have been sitting here on the airplane (what a surprise) thinking (another surprise) and I am pretty sure that this is the first time that I have flown every single day of the work week. By the time I step off the plane on Friday afternoon back in Newark it will have been eight flights through five airports. I will have been in & out of (in order) Newark, Orlando, Houston, Las Vegas, Newark, Houston, Lafayette, Houston and finally back to Newark. I don’t even think the Pilots or Flight Attendants Unions allow their people to fly as much or as often as I have this week. Too much time in the air always gives me too much time to think. As we all know, that is never a good proposition.

 

Now it could have been worse. Last year I flew so much that I qualified for Platinum Elite status. That means that this year, more often than not, I have been upgraded from Coach to First. This week was no different. Just as I had predicted, at 10am I received my sixth & final upgrade for the week. (Two of my flights are on commuter jets so I couldn’t get the upgrade but I did get the exit row seat) The seats in First are wider & more comfortable, the drinks are free (for those that do imbibe) and they do serve something more than peanuts, a bland mini-muffin or a little football sized sandwich. Just yesterday I was even given a warm white chocolate chip cookie and a glass of milk just before landing. But the fact of the matter is, up front or in the back, flying as much as I have this week stinks.

 

You know what else stinks ? The size of carry-on luggage and the dude in 1E. Excessive cologne or perfume on a plane is just wrong and inconsiderate. So is not bathing before you get on a plane so I guess in his case it might be a little of both but that is for another discussion at another time when we also discuss the need to keep your shoes on when you are on the plane but now I need to get back to the carry-on conundrum. Spirit Airlines recently announced that they would start to charge for, at an outrageous rate, overhead space on their planes. The rationale behind this thinking was that people would rather pay less to check their bags and that it would help speed up the boarding process thus cutting back on the number of delays caused by people trying to jam everything but the kitchen sink into the overhead. I don’t disagree completely but I do think that there is a simpler solution to this problem and it is already in place. Probably the least utilized piece of equipment in any airport is the carry-on sizing box. There once was a time when airlines actually made people check the size of their carry-on before they were let on the plane. I even remember a few airports having a sizing plate on the x-ray machine so if your bag was too big, it couldn’t get scanned and you had to check it. On my flight from Houston to Las Vegas the other morning I had two self entitled little old people push in front of me with their luggage. They each had two bags that when combined were bigger than they were. When I mentioned it to my gate agent as I checked in, her response was “They are in First.” SO WHAT ! So was I and you didn’t see me taking up a whole overhead compartment. A rule is a rule and should be applied to ALL passengers. When the self entitled little old man proceeded to recline his seat as far as it could go, I made sure to kick it every time I crossed my legs. I am proud to say that for a good 30 minutes I was a poster child for Restless Leg Syndrome and the seat was finally brought up a little . I also made sure that I gave his seat a hip check worthy of any NHL defensemen when I got up to use the bathroom.

 

I also got to watch a lot of movies & television while I was flying this past week. I got to see The Blind Side, 2012, What About The Morgans, Everybody’s Fine and The Princess & The Frog. The last movie was shown on the morning flight out of Las Vegas which I thought was quite humorous since we had all just spent time in Sin City. With the exception of The Blind Side, all of these movies were greatly improved by the fact that I didn’t listen to any of them. They were nothing more to me than the visual equivalent of white noise. I would go to asleep watching one of them and wake up watching another one. The one flight I had with Direct TV wasn’t much better in that it was a morning flight and Daytime TV is seriously lacking. I did learn that Andrea Mitchell is fine in a short segment but horrible as a one hour host of a rehashed news show and that the hostess of Food Wars on The Travel Channel is even worse. She was so bad that I am going to have to write about her once I remember her name.

 

So with that promise (or was it a threat) to write more in the near future floating out there up in the air, I will bring this latest cranky missive to an end. Now please return your seats & tray tables back to their upright & locked position. Fasten your seatbelts and get ready to land so we can get off this blog in an orderly fashion and not like cattle at a slaughterhouse.

 

That’s the view for now from Behind The Shades…..thanks for stopping by….swampy abides

 

The Best Vacation

I have had the good fortune during my lifetime to have traveled to quite a few spots across the globe for both business and pleasure. ( Australia & the Far East are still in my sights for the future) I have skied the Alps & the Rockies. I have played in the sun & sand on the French Riviera, the Caribbean, the Pacific and the Jersey Shore. I have hiked in all 4 time zones in the US and across glaciers in Switzerland. I have played golf at some of the great courses in the US. I have explored Cathedrals from top to bottom all across Europe. I even visited the Mouse before he discovered Florida. But never have I had as great a vacation as I had for 10 days this past March with my wife & three children in Maui.

I grew up basically spending my vacations in the mountains. I was either hiking or going to camp during the summer in upstate New York or I was skiing in Vermont or Colorado. Visits to the beach were few & far between for me. And Hawaii ? Well that was where Steve McGarrett wore a cheesy Hawaiian shirt and we all chugged when he said "Book'em Dano. Murder One." I never even thought about flying all the way across the Pacific to wear ugly shirts & munch on pineapple. My wife talked about her trips to Waikiki with her girlfriend and that made me want to go even less. Of course I had also made a promise to my wife when we got married (since it was on the 13th of the month) that any time our anniversary fell on a Friday the 13th that she could either have a party or we could go on a trip. As fate would have it our 5th anniversary fell on Friday 13th so we traded in our frequent flier miles, very reluctantly left our barely 1 year old daughter with our respective Mother's (they agreed to split time) and headed for Maui.

We chose Maui after doing "exhaustive research" on the islands. I called my Dad and asked him where we should go since I refused to go to a city (Honolulu) and I already worked in one every day. He told me to go to Maui and to stay down toward Wailea since he knew that my wife & I preferred quiet to crowds and low key to resort style. We lucked into a deal at a hotel in Makena and it was love at first sight for both of us. We relaxed on the quiet beach. We explored when & where we wanted to away from the crowds. When it was time to leave, we hoped to be able to come back some day with our children. I say "children" because despite the fact we only had one child at the time, we were actively trying for our second.

Five years later with now two children in tow, we headed back to Maui & the same hotel. The hotel was as before, perhaps a little more rundown but the vacation was still great because we were able to watch the joy, wonder & amazement in our daughters' eyes and smiles as we shared with them the same things that had made us fall in love with Maui during our first visit. We all agreed that someday we would again come back but with each passing day that prospect started to fade much like memories do.

Life has a funny way of getting you from Point A to Point B at times. We had a 3rd child. I changed jobs and stopped traveling. We moved just as the housing market began it's downward spiral. The financial world imploded in upon itself. Stress became more & more a major factor in our lives. Vacations became fewer & further between but in the back of mind Maui continued to smolder like Mount Haleakala whenever a Hawaiian reggae song came up on my iPod during my daily 4+ hours of commuting or when the darkness started to close in on me. I just knew we had to get back to Maui, I just didn't know how. Then my job shifted again from a desk based position back to time on the road and the miles started to add up. My children were growing up and my youngest had started to show signs that he would be able to make the flights. I knew it was time so I pulled the trigger. It had taken six years but I was able to get us five first class tickets to Maui with my frequent flier miles. Our old hotel had changed owners and they were looking for new clients (especially families) with packages that couldn't be beat.

So off we went. I can't even begin to put into words the relief I felt the first morning we woke up in Maui after our 11 hours of travel the day before. I could feel the stress flow out of my body like someone had poked a hole in a dike when my wife made me lock my blackberry in our in-room safe. I noticed the colors around me. I heard the waves crashing on the shore & the birds singing in the trees. I felt the breeze that rustled through the palm trees. Most of all I saw the smiles on the faces of my children & my wife and I saw the same love in my wife's eyes that I knew she saw in mine. Much like we had in our 2 previous visits, we played, ate, shopped, explored & experienced at our own pace. We were a family like we had always been and like we had never been. It was exciting. It was rewarding. It was unforgettable but most of all it was magical. The ten days flew by & crawled at the same time. We lost track of time and even missed the clocks springing ahead back on the mainland. It was a real vacation. Even the travel nightmare that befell us on the return flight home couldn't dampen our spirits. So what if it took 24 hours, two different airlines and a ton of unexpected expense to get home. We still had our ten days in Maui to keep us sheltered from reality.

It's been a month since we got back from our trip. I can still taste the fish tacos at Alexander's. I can still hear the Humpback Whales slapping their tails on the water off the beach in Kihei. I can still see the sun setting from the sidewalks of Lahaina. I can still feel the happiness, joy & laughter that enveloped our little family. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about this trip and what it meant to me and what it meant to my family. We are all stronger & happier for it. I don't know if you can really catch lightning in a bottle twice or see the same rainbow more than once but we are going to try again next year. Mahalo Maui.

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades….swampy abides…

My Trip to The Masters 2008 Re-visited

I have to admit that I have sat here a while trying to figure out a way to best describe the events of the past few days and truly I am at a loss for words. As a sports fan, there are events that you participate in and there are events that you attend and then there are there are those events that you can only truly really experience….

And then there is The Masters.

Lets get one thing out of the way first before we even begin to get to the rest of the awesomeness that is Augusta. Everyone I have ever spoken to about attending the Masters and every article I have ever read about attending the Masters have all said the same thing. You must have one of the fabled Pimento Cheese Sandwiches. They are spoken of in reverential fashion and they have been granted an almost godlike status. So when we got to the hallowed grounds of the Augusta Country Club, one of the first things we did after hitting the golf shop (more on that later), watching Tiger Woods putt on the practice green (and based on his performance he needed to spend more time here) and touching the fairway grass (well, that was just me but again more on that later) was to go and find a concession stand so that we too could partake of the glorious goodness of the Pimento Cheese Sandwich. I paid my $1.50 and ripped through the opaque green wrapping and took a huge bite…….

Let me now also be the one to tell you that the legendary Pimento Cheese Sandwich is obviously a cruel practical joke perpetuated on an unknowing & gullible golfing public by the green jacket clad members of the Augusta Country Club and all those who have fallen victim in the past. Though I have never tried it myself, I am now convinced that a tub of spackle has the same consistency and probably tastes better than this yellow hued mess that was globbed & spread between two pieces of Wonder Bread. You take that first big bite with relish & gusto and truly expect to see God or at least Bobby Jones. Your tastebuds immediately begin to tell you that this is a mistake of truly epic proportions but your mind rejects this information and tells you that it really can’t be this bad and that surely the next bite will be better but it’s not. In fact, with each ensuing bite it only gets worse but you continue to eat it because all of your life you have heard about how you have to have to experience the glorious goodness of the Pimento Cheese Sandwich at The Masters. As you finally force that final bite into your mouth you begin to realize that not only have you been truly suckered but that you have also just joined a fraternity of countless thousands that have also fallen victim to this cruel & insidious inside joke. As you forcibly swallow that last bite you make a silent vow that somehow, some way, someone will pay for this……

But I digress…….now I have been to more than a few golf tournaments over the years. I have seen the PGA championship, I have been to a regular tour event, I have been to see the women and I have been to see the Senior’s Tour and none of these events can even come close to the (hold on let me put on the mantle of hyperbole given to all sportscasters working for CBS & ESPN) majesty that is Augusta. It is a course and club that is truly built for one reason and one reason only. To put on the best golf tournament of the year. From the minute you set foot on the hallowed grounds you are enveloped in the history and spectacle that are The Masters. You can also catch a whiff of Disney in the proceedings when you pass the Golf Shop with it’s 20+ cash registers and UPS shipping depot right next door. But enough of that, let’s get to real reason a golf fanatic like me is really there. It’s because any other week of the year I have a better chance of finding Osama Bin Laden in an Afghani cave than I do setting foot on the course. Come June 1 this course will be shut & locked down tighter than my daughter’s bedroom door on prom night. So when I got the call from Goose letting me know that a spot had opened in a corporate boondoggle junket and it was mine for the taking, well I just about ran all the way to Georgia. The weekend is still pretty much a blur so I will do my best to remember some of the highlights.

We flew into Columbia, SC and I couldn’t help but notice the big highway sign for Maurice’s BBQ on the road to Augusta. (edit: old reference)

Went to Wild Wings our first night. Apparently just about every hooker in the greater Atlanta area had the same idea. And who can blame them ? It was a target rich environment filled with drunken businessmen with corporate expense accounts. It was such a target rich environment that even wingchicks had their choices. And I am sorry to say but the wings were hardly wild…..

The first thing you notice about Augusta is the grass. You could putt from just about anywhere on the course. The second thing you notice is the hill that you need to climb to get to the Clubhouse, 1st Tee and practice green. The next thing I noticed was Tiger Woods 10 feet in front of me walking to the practice green. The guy is cut like a free safety in the NFL and he has serious game face. He started out putting one handed with tees stuck in the green the length of his putter apart. He hit 20 in a row that way. He should have kept putting that way the rest of the weekend because despite the best efforts of Jim Nantz & CBS, Tiger was NEVER in it. I couldn’t help but watch as all the other players on the green took glances and long looks at Tiger’s ritual & warm up. Trevor Immelman was already out on the course so I don’t think that he was intimidated.

As we walked down the 10th fairway towards “Amen Corner” I got down on my hands & knees and rubbed the grass. It wouldn’t be the last time I would do it over the weekend either. As I began to look around I was surprised at how hilly the course was. One local writer described walking the course as a long trip on a stairmaster. As we came down the 11th fairway the legendary “Amen Corner” came into view and I was brought back to my one time playing Tour 18 in Houston where I was long on my approach to # 11 and wound up in the water at Sawgrass. Not quite the same here. We scored great seats in the front row of the stands and got to watch the approach shots into # 11 – the tee shots on the Par 3 # 12 – and the tee shots on # 13. Just a prime viewing location. We later discovered thanks to achance meeting with 2 Time Masters Champion Ben Crenshaw that the 12th green is built on an old cemetery and the players all believe that the spirits have a lot to do with balls either winding up in Rae’s Creek or somehow miraculously staying up at the lip of the water. Many a tourney has been both won & lost here and Tom Weiskopf will forever be remembered for his 12 on the 12th – which is most likely what I would shoot since the winds are fickle and the putting surface is like warped glass. We waited for Tiger to come through and the masses that follow him before we ventured further.

It’s interesting to note the spectators at the Masters. Everyone is wearing a golf shirt & hat either right from the pro shop or from their various clubs around the country. A great many women are also there and some of them – no a great many of them – obviously had no idea where they were going or what they were doing because they were wearing heels on a golf course. My feet were hurting in my Nikes so I can’t imagine how they were feeling. You could also tell which guys were strictly there for the drinking and partying – though that aspect is much more subdued at Augusta than any other tourney I have ever been to. This is no Phoenix Open. It was fun spotting the women who were there guy watching and which ones were golf groupies. A special tip of the hat goes to the chick in the red cocktail dress on the 9th hole on Friday – no bra, half dollar sized erect nipples and a tiny red thong that kept getting exposed for all to see whenever a gust of wind came up. More than one player smiled back at her as they walked off the 8th green and then again off the 9th tee – 2 shows for the price of 1…..but I digress……

On both Thursday & Friday I wound up watching the action around the 16th hole because from the hillside to the left of the hole you could see the 15th green and the 6th green not to mention the turtles climbing on the banks on the 16th green. This was also the hole that Ian Poulter aced on Thursday and birdied on Friday to put himself in 3rd place going into the weekend. It should also be noted that after I spotted the 4 young women making a late night beeline to Ian at the hospitality house party on Friday that it was no surprise at all that Ian faded from the top of the leaderboard on Saturday. Again I want to praise the Augusta fans for the tradition of setting out your chair at a hole and being able to come back hours later to find the chair & your bag still there and untouched. Everyone is watching out for everyone else and I really believe that some people are just so in awe of the place and actually being there that they forget to be dirtbags and steal stuff.

As we left the course on Friday night I once again got down on my hands and knees and rubbed the grass on the 7th & 1st fairways and stood at yard maker 119 yards out and thought to myself, “I could miss that shot”…..I don’t know if I will ever get back to Augusta and to play the course would be an 18 hole wet dream but I felt a connection & spirituality to the place that was like no other. I have played many of golf’s great courses and walked several more but it is quite clear to me that there is only one Augusta Country Club and there is only one Masters. Congratulations to Trevor Immelman. You held on and mastered the monster for your own green jacket. Tiger may have come in 2nd but he was a pussycat compared to the South African this week……

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades….swampy abides…

Monday Musings with a Drunken Monkey

It has been said that if you gave a room full of monkeys a bunch of typewriters, they would eventually write the whole works of Shakespeare. I gave a monkey a bottle of tequila and my blackberry this weekend. Let’s see how he did.

I wonder how much of a difference Purell would have made in the life of Lady MacBeth ? She seems like a natural spokesperson.

Hey Madison Avenue, I want my 10% when you steal my idea.

Was Hester Prynne actually fashion forward or was Laverne De Fazio just a clueless copycat ?

Leftover thin sliced prime rib, sharp cheddar & Gold's Horseradish Spread pressed in a loaf of fresh ciabbatta bread made for an excellent sunday night dinner. Roasted vegetables leftovers can be blended into a quick soup later today.

Saw a Goth Girl driving a black car with a bumper sticker that said "Yes Wiccan". I think she put a spell on me when I passed her because I hit 3 straight red lights after that.

Got the dirt turned & the topsoil/mulch combo spread in the swampgarden just before the heavy rains came last night. I am taking a less is more approach to my garden this year. Raspberry & blackberry bushes both show early growth, green & buds. I need to add at least one more of each along with more strawberries. The trees I took out last fall should help with the afternoon sun in this section.

I don’t think a Kahuna sized cup of coffee could have helped me this morning.

“Up In Smoke” came on the other morning while I was jogging on the Dreadmill of Doom and all I could think was like “whoa….”.

I hope the Amazon Birthday Fairy remembers to get me that one for my birthday.

The Boston Marathon must be coming up because I have seen the Little Jog Mom out running every morning since we got back from Maui. I am still writing my post about Maui just in case you were interested.

Loved the Richard Alpert episode of LOST. There is a Desmond-centric/slideways episode coming up in 2 weeks.

God invented voicemail for a reason and some people just can’t seem to grasp that concept.

Boondoggle Week seemed like a good idea when it was first planned. Now it just seems like a waste of time. I better grab a good book or two for all of my flights every which way.

James Lee Burke sure made Hackberry Holland a very difficult character to give a rat’s ass about in the first half of “Lay Down My Sword & Shield”. I had to keep reminding myself that this book was written in 1970 and not today. The character did grow on me as he started down the Dave Robicheaux path of redemption. The sequel, “Rain Gods”, just became more interesting to me now that I can see how the character has grown in the almost 40 years since his debut.

Butler, West Virginia, Michigan State & Duke – it does sound more like a pre-season holiday tournament than a Final Four but games leading up to this point have been outstanding to watch.

My New York Rangers however, have been less than outstanding to watch and it pains me to know that they have my playoff money hostage when they clearly are not going to make the playoffs.

Part 2 of a 2 part Castle tonight – too bad I missed Part 1. Hello Hulu !

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades on this rainy Monday….swampy abides…

Can I Kahuna Size That For You ?

During our recent trip to Maui, thanks in no small part to the efforts made by my darling swamprat daughters, who have never met a store they couldn’t shop in, we accumulated enough frequent shopper points for me to get a new travel coffee mug for my car. It’s kind of cheesy in a fun sort of way in that it has a 60’s style surfer and an old Woody on it. It’s not just big. It’s Kahuna sized. It holds 50% more than my old Iditarod mug that a friend picked up for me in Walsilla. I guess they were sold out of Sarah Palin mugs. So now I am knocking back even more of my Community Coffee w/ Chicory & Café Bustelo combo on the way to the morning train. I don’t think anyone is going to want to get into my way. It also got me thinking and as we all know, that can be a dangerous thing at times.

If I ever owned a restaurant or a diner, I would have to have something on the menu that had the word “Kahuna” in it. It could be Kahuna Ribs or a Kahuna Burrito or a Kahuna Burger or even some Kahuna Pie which would have to be a slice about 8 inches high and at least a quarter of the whole pie. I could have the servers asking patrons if they wanted to “Kahuna size” their purple molokai sweet potato fries. I could also have a “Kahuna Khallenge” and invite Adam Richman from “Man vs Food” come in to take the Kahuna Khallenge and make me a cult favorite with foodies & gluttons everywhere. I can just see it now – “Swampy’s Big Kahuna – home of the Kahuna Khallenge”.

Now Kahuna would also be a great word to be used in a coffee shop. No more of that pretentious Venti or Grande crap. The largest cup you could get would be a Kahuna. I can just hear it now. “Dude, gimme a triple skinny no foam soy Kahuna frappuccino.” I would throw them right out of the shop. Nobody needs to use that many words to ever order a cup of coffee. Triple & Kahuna would be the only extra words allowed to be said. I would even hire HUGE EMPLOYEE and dress him up like a GIANT TIKI and have him stand by the cash register so he could enforce the rule. Kahuna Kona Koffee Ko. would rule the koffee world and Starcrooks could kiss my Kahuna sized butt !!!

Okay, I think maybe someone has had a few too many kahuna sized schooners of koffee this so I am going to have to say that this the view for now from Behind The Shades…..swampy abides…

A Fox Named George

I awoke on Sunday to an absolutely beautiful spring day for the northeast. The sky was blue and the air was warm. I knew that after the warmth & rain of the last two weeks that the ground that had never really frozen hard this winter would start to be soft & pliable. I knew it was going to be a great day to start working on the 2010 version of my vegetable garden.

I have a large garden out back at the edge of my yard back by the brook. I have outsized expectations every year for my farming prowess but that discussion is for another time. Be that as it may, I was out in the garden turning the dirt by hand with my four pronged Hound Dog T-Square Garden Cultivator while listening to silence all around me. It was filled with the birds chirping, the brook babbling and the occasional Sunday driver cruising our dead end street. I could feel the breeze that was lightly moving the branches in the trees above me causing them to make a slight clicking sound. I could sense more than hear the occasional jet passing by overhead on it’s approach into the New York area. Suddenly the afternoon exploded with the sounds of our neighbor’s two dogs barking & yapping as loudly and as much as I had ever heard them. My first inclination was that they had seen a wayward squirrel or that perhaps a deer had wandered onto their side of the brook but the barking became louder & more persistent. I began to wonder if perhaps they had something cornered. The smaller of the two dogs seemed to be especially agitated. His yapping was reaching an unprecedented crescendo.

It was at that moment that a fox with a fantastic golden red coat and thick white tipped tail slipped out of the bushes on the far side of the clearing down by the brook. I knew this particular fox as I had seen him many times before as I gazed out my kitchen window with my coffee mug in hand. I called him George. He had what looked like a small rabbit in his mouth. George stopped just as he emerged from the brush and he looked at me. Then he looked back at the distant sound of the still barking dogs and then he looked back at me again. I hadn’t moved. Our eyes met for just a second before he darted across the clearing and disappeared into the tangle of overgrown brush. A minute later I caught a quick glance of George through the trees. He was on the other side of the brook and he was briskly heading for the field on the far side of the woods. The barking finally slowed and then stopped. I went back to turning the dirt and listening to the silence with a bemused smile as I thought of how George had once again given his pursuers the slip.

So I chose my fox tie today as a subliminal tip of the hat to George.

That’s the view for now from Behind The Shades….swampy abides…

Returning to a Simpler Time

My father & I were sitting around his kitchen table the other day discussing a little bit of this & a little bit of that and really nothing of any great importance. Just the kind of talk I like having with my Dad when I haven’t seen him in a while. We laughed. We joked. We remembered. My 4 ½ year old son sat there between us plowing through his red pepper slices & his bag of apple slices with a touch of lemon so they wouldn’t brown. His eyes shifted back & forth between us as he watched & listened. I hope that some day I have those same kinds of talks with him.

While we were talking, the subject of the local college basketball team came up. They were better this year than they had been in some time and while they obviously aren’t going to make the “Big Dance” there is an outside shot that they might get an invite to the NIT. They won the NIT in 1975 back when it still mattered and wasn’t the also ran hoopfest that it is today. We remembered how we had been on vacation on a tropical island at the time and that it took a couple of days to get a score for a game. Al Gore had inspired “Love Story” by then but he hadn’t yet invented the internet. Getting world or local news wasn’t as easy as a point & a click. I truly think that the waiting & the anticipation made both the victories sweeter & the defeats more painful. In some ways, you just didn’t want to know and you just didn’t need to know right then. The world wasn’t going to end or even be somewhat more dramatically different if it took a little longer to find something out.

I mention all this because I am headed out on a vacation with my own family to a tropical island. Only it’s not 1975 anymore, it’s 2010 and with that comes all of the gadgetry and need to know now technology of our modern day world. I am truly excited that I am actually going to get to watch LOST via satellite on the plane as I fly over the Pacific. (I checked, my flight number is not 815 or 316 – bummer) However when I get to our final destination I have decided (with the help of – okay threat from – my wife) to return to that simpler time. My blackberry is going into the safe in our room. It’s not going to be turned on. Work will survive without me. There are plenty of people back in the office who are completely capable of handling my job for the 9 days that I am gone. The world will not come to an end.

Tomorrow I am getting on a plane with my wife & 3 kids. I’ll check back in when I get back. I am sure we will have some stories to share about a little bit of this & a little bit of that and really nothing of great importance but they can wait. The stories may not get any better with age but you will still be able to drink them in.

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades…swampy abides...aloha

A Conversation About What I'm Not Sure

I live in a fairly small town out in the country and like most small towns, we seem to have our share of local flavor mixed in. That’s not to say that big cities don’t have their own brand of eccentrics but they aren’t quite as endearing as the small town types. In fact, some of them are downright scary. I should know, I work in New York. But that is neither here nor there because there is nothing scary about this particular local character. The only thing he has ever been known to kill is the few free minutes you may have had as you raced about trying to get your errands done.

 

Now I had just come out of the drugstore with my Sunday copies of the NY Daily News & NY Post. I’ll buy them but I won’t have them delivered. Have to keep up appearances for the neighbors you know. When suddenly I heard someone call my name. I am generally not rude enough to pretend that I didn’t hear a person call my name so even though I definitely recognized the voice, I turned to say hello and there he was. Let’s just call him Peter.

 

“Hey Peter. How are you ? I haven’t seen you in a while.” I said with a smile that did not befit the thought in my mind that I was now going to be stuck for the next 10-20 minutes.

 

“I’m fine Mr. Nomo. I’m fine. You know I saw you at Shop-Rite a while back with one of your daughters but I didn’t say hello.” He said earnestly.

 

“You no doubt did. I am there a bit too much. You should have said hi.” I replied.

 

“Now Nomo, that’s an Irish name, isn’t it ?” he asked as though we hadn’t changed topics.

 

“No, it’s actually Welsh.” I began to wonder where this was going and how long it was going to take to get there.

 

“Ah, Welsh. Well you still have some Celt in you. You know I’m Irish but the spelling of my last name is English because when my ancestors came over it was better to be English than Irish so we added a W.” He began to ramble.

 

“I see.”

 

“So I’m still Irish though you would think I was English.” He smiled.

 

“I’m a little bit of everything myself Peter except for Italian. I let my wife handle that part for the kids.” I knew I had said too much but somehow it came out anyway.

 

“But you still have some Irish in you.” He beamed. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I have maybe enough Irish in me to spit. “You know I got up shaved, showered, made my coffee and got out the door today in 45 minutes.”   

 

“Sounds like me getting ready for the train each morning.”

 

He ignored my reply and continued on. “Have you ever had Bailey’s Irish Cream ? I would think a Celt like you would have had it before.”

 

“Yes I have Peter but not in the 20 odd years since I quit drinking.” I was starting to begin to try and piece our conversation together and I think I was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know I saw a couple of people come out of the drugstore, take 2 steps in our direction and then veer off across the parking lot in a circuitous manner back to their cars.

 

“Oh it’s really good. They now make an Irish Cream International Flavor Coffeemate that is almost as good as the real thing. I always buy it. I have some in my coffee mug in the truck right now.” He smiled again.

 

“Really. I haven’t tried it.” I replied.

 

“Well you really should. Like I said, it’s really good. They sell it in Shop-Rite all the way in the back by the milk.” He informed me.

 

“I’ll have to look for it. Thanks Peter.”

 

“No problem Mr. Nomo. You have a nice day. I’m kind of in a hurry. See you.” He said and with that, he was off walking across the parking lot back to his truck and I was left to wonder how seeing me set us off on the trip from Shop-Rite to names to Ireland to Coffee to Bailey’s to Coffeemate and back to Shop-Rite.

 

I have to admit that later that day when I was in Shop-Rite, I went looking for the Irish Cream Coffeemate all the way in the back by the milk but they were sold out. I guess Peter bought the last one.

 

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades….swampy abides…

 

 

Looking For Inspiration In All The Wrong Places

A few weeks ago I declared to the handful of readers that I may or may not have that I was back and that the blogs would gush forth like before. Then I wrote nothing for a couple of weeks. What I did finally post was a hackneyed effort at what once was at best. I knew I wasn't the same writer that I had been before and to be honest I wasn't sure if that was who I wanted to be again anyway. What I needed was some inspiration and I set out to find some.

 

I first turned to the not so friendly skies above us but I have railed against the airlines before and the jokes about flying, while they continue to write themselves (too fat, too stinky), are really just the same leftover jokes and let's face it, leftovers are only good the next day. 

 

I thought about voodoo but when I checked my calendar, it looked like I won't be heading for Nawlins until late April or early May at the earliest. While you probably wouldn't miss the blogs, I really don't want to wait that long to start writing again.

 

I thought about blaming George W. Bush but I used that joke unsuccessfully in my last blog and if it wasn't funny the first time, it's probably not going to be funny a second time. It's getting overused down in Washington anyway.

 

Then I thought about going to church and praying for inspiration but that really did seem to me like an awful waste of God's time. It's not like he's not busy with other things. Besides, I every time I walk into my church they expect me to hand them a check. Of course I only really go about once a year anyway so the ratio of visits to checks really isn't that far off of 1 to 1 so I guess expecting a check when I walk in the door shouldn’t be considered crass but I do consider it to be so anyway.

 

But being in a religious frame of mind in that moment, I remembered that the Gods of Football had once answered my prayers in their own way by stomping a mudhole in me & my team so I figured that perhaps I should try contacting the Gods of Blogging. Surely this august group of coffee swilling slackers with poor eyesight from staring at their laptop monitors would be able to help me find inspiration.

 

Now I wanted to make sure that I got their attention in a crowd of other writers with nothing to write about so I grabbed a D List Celebrity from my Twitter Follow List and pitched them into the nearest lava spewing volcano. There was a poof (or was it a wisp ?) of smoke and standing before in all his toga clad glory was one of the Gods of Blogging.

 

“Dude, you rang ?” he said with obvious annoyance.

 

“Yes I did. I need some inspiration. I don’t know what to write about.” I replied.

 

“Write about what you know.” He said in a tone of voice that told me that wasn’t the first time he had used those words.

 

“But I know nothing.” I lamely responded.

 

“Exactly and you know a lot of it too !” he said and with a poof (or was it a wisp) of smoke he was gone.

 

“But…..” I stammered as I quickly grabbed another D List celebrity from my Twitter Follow List and tossed them into the lava spewing volcano in hopes of bringing him back. Alas, the second D Lister went for naught and none of the Gods of Blogging reappeared in my room.

 

So there we have it, even the Gods of Blogging had nothing to offer me other than to continue on my literary quest to write something out of nothing or was it to write nothing about something or was it to write nothing about nothing because I know I can’t write something about something because that just sounds too much like homework and I never really did a whole hell of a lot of that way back when. Guess we will just have to see what kind of nothing I write about.

 

And that is the view for now from Behind The Shades…..swampy abides

 

 

Let's Spin The Wheel & See Where We Land

In Hollywood they would be saying "Swampy Blog ! Take 2 ! Action !" because Take 1 wound up somewhere in the ether when I tried to copy & paste before saving. Like most sequels, this one most likely will not measure up to the original but let's give it a try anyway.

I just got back from another business trip and not only did I bring home the bacon but I also brought home a cold. Thanks Florida - you suck. I will however buck a current trend and blame Anita Bryant for my cold instead of George W. Bush.

I follow quite a few writers on twitter who make even 140 characters look easy & great. It's almost enough to make a hack like me long for the days of MySpace where nobody cared about grammar, spelling, punctuation or content. Almost. It has made me somewhat re-think my great airport book store novel that has yet to be finished. Let's be serious here, yet to be started.
Speaking of excellence (and certainly not my own) major tips of the cap are due to Shaun White, Lindsay Vonn & Shani Davis for delivering the Gold up in Vancouver. I suppose I should also say congrats to Evan Lysacek for stealing the gold from Plushenko. He skated one hell of a program. I am loathe to admit it but if you have seen as much figure skating as I have in my lifetime, you too could tell what jumps they are doing or falling out of when they skate.

We may be the only house in town that still has a tree in their yard lit up with Christmas lights. My lovely wife & rottem kids like it so it stays plugged in. I will admit that it does look kind of cool out their all alone in the absolute darkness of night. I think one of my resident foxes thinks so too because I saw him sitting & looking at the tree the other night though I have a feeling he was probably more interested in the birds inside the tree.

Speaking of flying, last week it was too fat to fly and this week is was too smelly to fly. I will be more than happy to help out the flight crews when they need to start figuring out who is too stupid to fly.

And while we are talking about airlines, the baggage fees are wreaking havoc inside the planes as people try to bring bigger & bigger suitcases onto the plane. My last flight saw an old woman board the plane with a bag as big as an armoire and I think her husband had the kitchen sink in his bag. I realize that being a TSA agent is a thankless job but how in God's name did these people get those bags through the screening process anyway ?

Who Dat won the SuperDuperbowl ? Who Dat predicted the Saints would win back in September ? Who Dat strained his shoulder patting himself on the back ?

How happy do you think Harry Reid really is that a president with a 3 election losing streak is coming to campaign for him ?

They sell Get Well cards. Do they sell Get Even cards too ?

The last block leading up to my office is all downhill which is quite apropos if you ask me.

And speaking of downhill, that's the direction this blog has been taking since it got deleted the first time. So that's the view for now from Behind The Shades...swampy abides

Friday Blog = Fail

I just wrote my first Friday blog in I don't know how long and Blogspot lost it. That's what I get for trying to type it straight in to save some time.

Maybe I can try again later but I am sure my train of thoughts won't be on the same track.

swampy is not abiding.....

The SuperDuperBowl Menu Review

The city of New Orleans and the whole state of Louisiana got a 74 yard head start on Mardi Gras last night when Tracy Porter stepped in front of Reggie Wayne, made off with a Peyton Manning pass and sprinted for the end zone. It was moment that will live in infamy and will be talked about for years. I wish I could say the same about my SuperDuperBowl Menu. It was good but it wasn't 43 years worth of frustration good. So let's see what I made.

1. Cubano Potato Skins - I shredded some pork & some ham (rather than thin slices), mixed in some mustard & relish (to take the place of the pickles) and topped with swiss cheese. A definite keeper for future Miami SuperDuperBowls.

2. Pulled Pork Paninis - I was in the Louisville airport the other day and saw a bottle of Wild Turkey BBQ Sauce staring at me from the shelf in the overpriced souvenir store. By the time I got to my gate it was safely ensconced in my carryon bag somewhere between my dirty shorts & socks. I pulled it out yesterday and mixed it with some shredded boneless pork ribs, sautéed vidalia onion & monterey jack cheese. Slapped it inside a mini portuguese roll and pressed them so they looked like little footballs. Nice understated taste that the kids loved. I kind of wish the Wild Turkey BBQ had a little more OOMPH to it.

3. Crawfish Cornbread (aka Crayfish Cornbread here at allrecipes.com) - I have made this once before and probably should have looked for my review or notes from that last time before I made this again. The recipe does call for a box of instant corn muffin mix so I used my Basic Corn muffins recipe from here instead. While the color is interesting, the taste is a touch flat. It could use some heat but I was reluctant to add any because of the kids. I could definitely see this somewhat polenta like cornbread serving as the base upon which a rich creole tomato based type of sauce is poured over. I still liked it and it was at it's best when it first popped out of the oven.

4. Orange Honey Chicken Wings - I have been making these for so long I can do them in my sleep. The secret ingredient is a healthy splash of Uncle Dougie's Chicken Wing Marinade. Not sure what I will do when my supply finally runs out but I am sure I will come up with something. The other ingredients include oj, honey, key lime juice & mustard. Low & slow heat makes the meat just fall off the bone.

5. Hot Asparagus Crab Dip - My lovely wife always requests one dip and every year I make something different. This year asparagus was on sale when I waltzed thru ShopRite so this year asparagus got it's turn as the main ingredient. Throw in some red pepper, red onion, lime juice, sour cream, plain yogurt, crab and a Key West seasoning blend I found a few years back and we were good to go. I threw it in the oven at the same time as the wings and it came out hot, condensed & very dippable. I probably will not see any of the leftovers on this one.

6. Cheddar Bacon Deviled Eggs - The name pretty much says it all. Why make regular deviled eggs when you can jazz them up. Again it is another recipe that actually would improve with the addition of some Chipotle Tabasco but I left it out to appease the kids.

7. Yellow Split Pea & Apple Dal with Coconut Tarka - one too may flight delays led to my reading about various pea & bean dishes in the NY Times one trip and a recipe that called for Mung Beans, Apples & Coconut Milk just jumped out at me. Now I couldn't tell you what a Mung Bean looked like if it was in front of me & labeled. On top of that, no store around me has any exotic or even different dried beans so I decided to take a slightly different direction and go for orange split peas. Well no luck on finding those either so I had resigned myself to trying with lentils though I wasn't really thrilled with that option. as it turned out, I had to make one last stop at the store for a few forgotten items and came across a lonely pack of yellow peas which soon made friends with the rest of the forgotten items in my basket. While the peas, apples & coconut milk simmered away, I made a "Tarka" of butter, ginger, scallions, lime juice, shredded coconut & turmeric. The recipe called for mint leaves (unnoticed & forgotten at the store) so I went for a dash of mint extract. The result was a very different sort of dish for my family that was liked but technically not SuperDuperBowl food. It is getting a second chance by being served over rice with the grilled chicken for dinner tonight.

8. Alligator Chili - The latest addition to the allrecipes.com family (I now have 12 recipes to my name) is a SuperDuperBowl favorite. I used yellow & red peppers and some smoked paprika in addition to the recipe on the site and once again I am going to modestly say, I smacked that sucker out of the park. If I didn't tell you it was gator, you would never know and I guarantee that you will be asking for seconds. Gator Chili will be my dinner tonight.

9. and finally, we topped it all off with a trio of mini-sundaes. I took mini-phyllo dough cups and baked them. then I scooped melon ball sized scoops of vanilla/chocolate, cookies & cream and mint chocolate chip into each cup. Drizzled Top Hat hot fudge over the trio and then topped it with whipped cream & multi colored jimmies. It looked like mardi gras in a bowl.

So that was this year's offerings for the SuperDuperBowl. I appreciate all the ideas that were floated to me on previous blogs & websites and some of those ideas will see the light of the day or the light inside my oven in the weeks to come. I am just glad that my wife was happy and that the kids ate it all too. Most of all I am THRILLED that the Saints won the SuperDuperBowl.

That's what's cooking Behind The Shades until next time when maybe we should discuss kitchen disasters. Lord knows I have had a few of those...

 

Originally posted at http://allrecipes.com/Cook/107227/BlogEntry.aspx?postid=156129