More work; Cooking and TV; the Davenport; Art Car parade and 28 Weeks Later; Day of Rest
I'll note that this post was written on 5/16. It'll probably still be six months (try seven!) before anyone reads it, but at least it was written when everything was still fresh on my mind.
5/7
Continued working on the paper. Got in on time, stayed late, came home, ate a quick meal (veggie burger), got back to work, stayed up late working. Wow, how dedicated of me.
5/8
The "deadline" artificially imposed by the boss having come and gone on the paper, I was free for the evening. Cindy picked up a couple of New York strips, which I seasoned in the manner passed on to me by my father (lemon pepper and steak seasoning) and grilled up in my grill pan. I'm still getting the hang of doing steak on the thing. It's tough because it seems to hold heat and the steak keeps cooking more than one would expect after I remove it. So my steak was a little too done for my taste, but Cindy fixed us up a nice lemon butter sauce for it which covered my mistakes. She had also picked up a whole bunch of vegetables: zuchini, eggplant, bell pepper, and a big portabello muchroom. We tossed them in some balsamic vinegar, olive oil, habanero tobasco, garlic, and maybe something else I'm leaving out, and then grilled them in the grill pan. The veggies came out a little better, particularly the mushroom and eggplant. The zuchini was a little bitter.
Anyway, there was some Heroes and 24 to keep us entertained during our meal.
5/10
Another night of cooking and TV. This time we fixed Bo Kho, a Vietnamese beef stew. It didn't turn out as well as what I'd had at Mai's, but hey, it was my first time cooking Vietnamese. I don't know what Cindy's excuse was!
Grey's Anatomy (where, once again, everyone does infuriatingly idiotic things) and the Office (beach party episode, great) were watched.
5/11
I snuck a nap in after getting home. Cindy and I didn't make it in time to catch a showing of 28 Weeks Later, so instead we went up to the Davenport and had a round of martinis. I had the Dixie, which contained SoCo (always reminds me of Rebecca and my trip to Europe) and Disarono. Tasty. Cindy had a dreamsicle, which really didn't taste all that dreamsicle-ish.
The tamale people came by, and Cindy intelligently took advantage. She had a couple then and there, but we saved the rest for...
5/12
...breakfast the next morning. Not much better than tamales and fried eggs. Mmm. After that we packed a cooler and Cindy's fancy new DSLR camera, and took off for the Art Car parade. We had both been concerned about finding parking, but we called Jeff, who was there with his friend Chandra, and headed for their location, finding plenty of parking lots with entirely reasonable rates. A short walk later, we caught the parade.
Some of the cars were cool, but overall, I was a bit nonplussed. Maybe if there had been alcohol, or maybe it was that things would have been better if you could see the fine details in the cars they would have been more impressive. It was fun and I'll do it again, but maybe not as wonderful as I had been lead to believe. We went over to Chandra's well-appointed and very moderne townhouse nearby, hung out for a while, and then headed home.
I made for Susan and Jerry's, stopping to pick up some peach tulips for Susan for Mother's Day. A little later, I headed back home, Cindy came over, and we went to the slightly ghetto AMC 30 theater out west to catch a late showing of 28 Weeks Later.
I saw the original film with Thom at the old Waco Square Six that had been turned into a second-run theater, on the occasion of one of my first weekends back in Waco after moving to Houston. I remember enjoying it.
The sequel, however, was torture. Very technically impressive and artfully done, cleverlyh relevant to current events, etc., etc., but also extremely scary, violent, disgusting, and, worst of all, cynical and hopeless. I guess I'd recommend seeing it just because it was all so well done, but where the first movie ends with a note of hope, this one (spoiler) teases hope and then destroys it.
If nothing else, the political parallels are deftly handled. Great film making, but I felt dirty afterwards. That, and I had recently had a nightmare involving being in a big house at night, with floor to ceiling windows, and zombies outside trying to get in. Both experiences made me want to invest in a blunt, heavy object, if not a gun. Still need to go to Lowe's to pick up that crowbar.
5/13
The Sunday I had been waiting for for three weeks had finally come. No obligations, nothing pressing. Absolutely wonderful. I read, I played video games, I framed posters which had been waiting a month on me.
Cindy and I went up to Rudz and met Dan for some cheap Lonestar. A Miller rep was there handing out samples (samples? what happened to a free bottle?) of Miller Chill, their "chilada" beer. Now I know a good michelada, and have even been known to make a good one on occasion, but this, this was some sweet lime flavor in very weak beer. The beer was just a hint of flavor, really, compared to the lime and the sweetness. A good analog would be the most bland beer you can find mixed with Rose's sweetened lime juice.
But it got me thinking, hey, this would potentially be a great base for a margarita. In fact, hell, I'd drink one with a shot of tequila mixed in it, particularly if it was a double shot of triple sec and tequila. That would be pretty good, actually. And I think I will buy a six pack before it goes off the market (this shit is not going to last, seriously; too malt beverage for the beer drinkers and too beer for the malt beverage drinkers) and construct a margarita around it. It will be interesting.
I got home, a little buzzed from the Lonestar, and, in a very unneighborly gesture, finished hanging my posters (actually, I'm not even sure I have neighbors in that apartment right now). Then it was time for a late dinner.
There is something to be said for taking food and charring the hell out of it. I applied that method to my quesadilla that night in a drunken orgy of cooking. I defrosted a chicken breast, seasoned with jalapeño seasoning, garlic powder, salt, fajita seasoning, and jalapeño tobasco, gave it a nice sear on the grill pan and the cooked it through while also cooking some garlic cloves, chopped it up, put a tortilla down on the grill pan, spread some salsa on, sprinkled on cheddar and the seasonings I used for the chicken, dropped the chicken on top (all of it), and let the tortilla brown.
With all that chicken on top, there was no way I'd be able to add the top half and flip the thing; instead I cooked the top half sepparataely and then put it on top.
Served it with some sliced pickled jalapeños and damn was it ever good. Best quesadilla I've ever had. My drunken cooking was an exercise in excess, but a successful one.
5/7
Continued working on the paper. Got in on time, stayed late, came home, ate a quick meal (veggie burger), got back to work, stayed up late working. Wow, how dedicated of me.
5/8
The "deadline" artificially imposed by the boss having come and gone on the paper, I was free for the evening. Cindy picked up a couple of New York strips, which I seasoned in the manner passed on to me by my father (lemon pepper and steak seasoning) and grilled up in my grill pan. I'm still getting the hang of doing steak on the thing. It's tough because it seems to hold heat and the steak keeps cooking more than one would expect after I remove it. So my steak was a little too done for my taste, but Cindy fixed us up a nice lemon butter sauce for it which covered my mistakes. She had also picked up a whole bunch of vegetables: zuchini, eggplant, bell pepper, and a big portabello muchroom. We tossed them in some balsamic vinegar, olive oil, habanero tobasco, garlic, and maybe something else I'm leaving out, and then grilled them in the grill pan. The veggies came out a little better, particularly the mushroom and eggplant. The zuchini was a little bitter.
Anyway, there was some Heroes and 24 to keep us entertained during our meal.
5/10
Another night of cooking and TV. This time we fixed Bo Kho, a Vietnamese beef stew. It didn't turn out as well as what I'd had at Mai's, but hey, it was my first time cooking Vietnamese. I don't know what Cindy's excuse was!
Grey's Anatomy (where, once again, everyone does infuriatingly idiotic things) and the Office (beach party episode, great) were watched.
5/11
I snuck a nap in after getting home. Cindy and I didn't make it in time to catch a showing of 28 Weeks Later, so instead we went up to the Davenport and had a round of martinis. I had the Dixie, which contained SoCo (always reminds me of Rebecca and my trip to Europe) and Disarono. Tasty. Cindy had a dreamsicle, which really didn't taste all that dreamsicle-ish.
The tamale people came by, and Cindy intelligently took advantage. She had a couple then and there, but we saved the rest for...
5/12
...breakfast the next morning. Not much better than tamales and fried eggs. Mmm. After that we packed a cooler and Cindy's fancy new DSLR camera, and took off for the Art Car parade. We had both been concerned about finding parking, but we called Jeff, who was there with his friend Chandra, and headed for their location, finding plenty of parking lots with entirely reasonable rates. A short walk later, we caught the parade.
Some of the cars were cool, but overall, I was a bit nonplussed. Maybe if there had been alcohol, or maybe it was that things would have been better if you could see the fine details in the cars they would have been more impressive. It was fun and I'll do it again, but maybe not as wonderful as I had been lead to believe. We went over to Chandra's well-appointed and very moderne townhouse nearby, hung out for a while, and then headed home.
I made for Susan and Jerry's, stopping to pick up some peach tulips for Susan for Mother's Day. A little later, I headed back home, Cindy came over, and we went to the slightly ghetto AMC 30 theater out west to catch a late showing of 28 Weeks Later.
I saw the original film with Thom at the old Waco Square Six that had been turned into a second-run theater, on the occasion of one of my first weekends back in Waco after moving to Houston. I remember enjoying it.
The sequel, however, was torture. Very technically impressive and artfully done, cleverlyh relevant to current events, etc., etc., but also extremely scary, violent, disgusting, and, worst of all, cynical and hopeless. I guess I'd recommend seeing it just because it was all so well done, but where the first movie ends with a note of hope, this one (spoiler) teases hope and then destroys it.
If nothing else, the political parallels are deftly handled. Great film making, but I felt dirty afterwards. That, and I had recently had a nightmare involving being in a big house at night, with floor to ceiling windows, and zombies outside trying to get in. Both experiences made me want to invest in a blunt, heavy object, if not a gun. Still need to go to Lowe's to pick up that crowbar.
5/13
The Sunday I had been waiting for for three weeks had finally come. No obligations, nothing pressing. Absolutely wonderful. I read, I played video games, I framed posters which had been waiting a month on me.
Cindy and I went up to Rudz and met Dan for some cheap Lonestar. A Miller rep was there handing out samples (samples? what happened to a free bottle?) of Miller Chill, their "chilada" beer. Now I know a good michelada, and have even been known to make a good one on occasion, but this, this was some sweet lime flavor in very weak beer. The beer was just a hint of flavor, really, compared to the lime and the sweetness. A good analog would be the most bland beer you can find mixed with Rose's sweetened lime juice.
But it got me thinking, hey, this would potentially be a great base for a margarita. In fact, hell, I'd drink one with a shot of tequila mixed in it, particularly if it was a double shot of triple sec and tequila. That would be pretty good, actually. And I think I will buy a six pack before it goes off the market (this shit is not going to last, seriously; too malt beverage for the beer drinkers and too beer for the malt beverage drinkers) and construct a margarita around it. It will be interesting.
I got home, a little buzzed from the Lonestar, and, in a very unneighborly gesture, finished hanging my posters (actually, I'm not even sure I have neighbors in that apartment right now). Then it was time for a late dinner.
There is something to be said for taking food and charring the hell out of it. I applied that method to my quesadilla that night in a drunken orgy of cooking. I defrosted a chicken breast, seasoned with jalapeño seasoning, garlic powder, salt, fajita seasoning, and jalapeño tobasco, gave it a nice sear on the grill pan and the cooked it through while also cooking some garlic cloves, chopped it up, put a tortilla down on the grill pan, spread some salsa on, sprinkled on cheddar and the seasonings I used for the chicken, dropped the chicken on top (all of it), and let the tortilla brown.
With all that chicken on top, there was no way I'd be able to add the top half and flip the thing; instead I cooked the top half sepparataely and then put it on top.
Served it with some sliced pickled jalapeños and damn was it ever good. Best quesadilla I've ever had. My drunken cooking was an exercise in excess, but a successful one.
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 1:40 AM
