Archive: July 2008

For this week’s Whip It Up theme of vegetarian dishes, I went for my go-to meat substitute: mushrooms. I have always loved mushrooms, and it is a point of pride for me that I have converted JG to my side since we got married. When you live in the Mushroom Capital of the World, it’s downright shameful to not love the charming little fungi, and I think JG and I pull our weight for per capita consumption. After last night’s yummy dinner of spinach-artichoke stuffed portobellos, courtesy of Rachael Ray, it’s fair to say that our faithful mushroom love has only increased.

Method
I am a huge fan of Rachael Ray. I used to think she was really appealing in that girl-next-door, not-insanely-skinny, accessible way, but I then was bombarded by catch phrases! Crazy hand gestures! A talk show! A magazine! Oh, Rachael, you are too much for me. JG takes umbrage with the unreasonable premise that her meals will take thirty minutes to prepare, but I choose to wave that aside because I imagine that the recipes would take me that long if I were a really fast chopper, all of my vegetables were rinsed and prepped, and I didn’t mind dirtying up half a dozen pots and pans. So, you know, that time estimate is kind of valid.

Ultimately, I like to think that Rachael has helped to encourage more people to cook at home, and for that, I give her a big thumbs up. This stuffed portobello mushroom recipe is a great example of a simple preparation that looks a lot more labor-intensive. If I hadn’t been so terribly inefficient, I may have had this supper on the table in less than half an hour! Instead, I futzed around with my asparagus side dish, dawdled while cleaning the mushrooms, and did not use my time well, generally. I chose to roast the mushrooms instead of grilling them, and the process was very easy to follow. I halved the recipe so that JG and I would each have two mushroom caps for dinner, and I guessed that they would not heat up so well after the fact.

Taste
JG and I each polished off two portobellos with astonishing speed, even with a tasty side dish of roasted asparagus. The meal is light, but filling, even for two carnivores. As far as taste goes, I love mushrooms, so I loved this dish, which is basically a light spinach-artichoke dip slathered on a giant mushroom. Anti-mushroom folks (boo!) will probably not like this dish because there is no hiding the mushroom-y goodness. Could I say “mushroom” any more? Mushroom!

Repeat appearance
Once I made the appropriate notes on the recipe for future iterations, that printout went straight into its half of a clear plastic sleeve for certain repetition. Next time, I’ll try adding about a quarter cup of bread crumbs to the filling (for a half batch) to help hold it together a little more. I suspect that the portobellos would benefit from a longer initial roast, because our finished mushrooms were slightly soupy. Instead of roasting them for 5-6 minutes, I’d increase that to 8-10 minutes. I may try out additional ingredients for the stuffing, like roasted red peppers or sun-dried tomatoes. I definitely recommend this dish: all of the ingredients are easy to come by, it comes together really quickly, and it’s a relatively low-fat meal. The only down side for us is that this meal wouldn’t produce good leftovers, so it’s not completely ideal for a staple dinner, but it would be a great lunch on the weekend.

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In what hopefully becomes an annual tradition, JG and I took our best “couple friends” (as we affectionately call them) up for a long weekend at Mimi’s house. The wife in that duo is a nurse, and she works all sorts of odd hours, so we decided months ago that we would claim one of her open weekends and for fun like we had last year.

Going to Mimi’s house is like going to a resort. There are always homemade munchies at one’s disposal, ranging from snack mix to sesame pita chips to chive cheese dip, plus whatever Mimi whips out for happy hour. She tends bar, mixing up fuzzy navels, gin and tonics, and a Manhattan for herself, in between setting out baked brie or a platter of sharp cheese, simply because JG mentioned that he doesn’t prefer mild cheese. Mimi’s house is on a hill at the edge of what I’m told is a very nice golf course, so the only sound that interrupts the peace is a gentle ping of a club on a golf ball. We sleep in as late as we need to, and then JG or Mimi will make eggs and bacon for breakfast, which we’ll eat alongside a huge selection of bread and fruit. Mimi loves spending time with “young people,” and she can entertain without a blink of an eye, so our with her was as much fun for her as it was for us. We basically spent our time eating and laughing, which is all anyone can ask for a long weekend.

During the day, we lazed by the pool at the country club (while JG and I bested each other on flips off the diving board) and played mini golf. There was a short trip to the local mall, where Mimi found a cute pair of gray capris, and my friend and I each scored a pair of bargain gray flats. At night, we had dinner at the club, played cards at the kitchen table, and ate desserts like caramel brownies, chocolate chip cookies, and a delicious concoction of vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, and pecans. When one of us was on the edge of beating Mimi at cards, she would narrow her eyes at us and say, “You do want to come back next year, don’t you?” By the time we pulled out of the driveway on Sunday afternoon, we were tired, but in a good way, as though we had had our fill of fun and food, and it would be excessive — nay, irresponsible — to carry on any further. Of course, if we could stay for a week (or a month!), I doubt that any of us would have protested, but we would have needed to invest in some bigger clothes, I think.

Before all of the frivolity started, our visit began in a rather dramatic fashion with an episode that will be known, henceforth, in the family annals as “Sam, the Miracle Dog (or, Don’t Worry, Sam is Fine).” Shortly after we arrived on Friday, we were having our lunch of chicken salad on croissants on the deck when we heard a thud and then groans coming from Mimi’s dog, Sam, an 18-year-old, one-eyed, arthritic Lhasa Apso. At first, I thought that Ted was bothering Sam, per usual, from his tether on a bench, but a quick scan showed that there was no sign of the old dog on the deck. Mimi peered over the railing and realized that Sam had taken a two-story fall onto the paved driveway and was lying in a twisted profile, moaning. Everyone sprinted down the steps while I held Ted back from leaping down to investigate in his own right.

Our nurse friend confirmed that Sam was still breathing, and Mimi carefully gathered her up and held her as she paced around the driveway. JG persuaded Mimi to call the vet, and when they said that they could see Sam right away, he drove her to the office. Meanwhile, the three of us cleaned up from lunch in shaky silence until JG called with the news: Sam was fine! Well, she knocked out a tooth, but she was fine in that she didn’t break any bones or have any internal bleeding. She was a little disoriented from the medication the vet gave her to sleep, but I think we were all more traumatized than she was. Thankfully, she was back to her normal self by the time we left Mimi’s yesterday, and the incident was not a bad omen for the weekend. Here’s to hoping that Sam will be knocking around Chez Mimi when we go back next summer!

Despite my good intentions to be mature and resist resentment, I can not fully stop myself from being just the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous that JG gets to have a summer vacation. I fully respect all of the work and aggravation he has throughout the school year, and I would never be able to stand it. By the time summer comes, I know that he needs the break, and I don’t begrudge him the time. It’s not even that JG sits around doing nothing, as the newly-organized the shed, a homemade set of ladder golf, and neatly trimmed trees will testify. Plus, he’s teaching himself Java, taking a graduate class, fitting in a few rounds of golf, and managing to have dinner on the table when I’m not experimenting with a new recipe. It’s just that — wah, I want a long vacation, too! As the resident night owl, I hate being the first one up in the morning, and when I get home from work, JG is all ready for chit-chat and banter, but I want to curl up on the couch and zone out as I grumble softly to myself about how “it must be nice to have so much time.”

Nevertheless, I think I’ve been more this summer than in the past, and I think a lot of that comes from budgeting in some long weekends and random days off. By the end of July, I’ll only have worked one full week in the month, and even better, I have always had something to anticipate, from the beach to Theme Park Day to the second annual weekends spent at Mimi’s and with my sister. For not having a summer vacation, I think that’s pretty good. Of course, once September comes, I go through a dry spell of vacation days until Thanksgiving, but at least JG and I are in it together, and I am more at ease when the cool weather comes and that new-school-year bustle hits.

Anyway! Today, I’m taking the day off again, and I wonder if my boss is getting suspicious of all the time off forms she’s been approving. No matter, I’ve accrued the time (and tracked it on a trusty spreadsheet), so I have no worries. Instead, I’m looking forward to a nice, long weekend.

As of yesterday, it has been a whole year since we brought Ted home! While it has been lots of fun to see the transition from a tiny, timid puppy to the best, cutest dog ever (sorry, other dogs), I have to give myself a small pat on the back for coming around to this whole dog ownership thing. I was not totally on board at the onset, but Ted won me over, with the help of JG and Cesar Milan. I wouldn’t say that I am a dog person now because I don’t love every dog I meet, but I’m certainly an our dog person. Ted is so sweet and smart, even if it doesn’t always mean that he does what we would like. I love having a dog that makes passersby coo, likes to run around the yard, and can still be picked up, that is, if we can catch him! Ted is small, (mostly) quiet, and cute, so the original requirements of the Dog Agreement have been satisfied. However, if we had adhered to all of my stipulations, we wouldn’t even have Ted yet, and I can’t imagine our house without that jingle-jangle of his tags.

With the arrival of Ted came the suggestion of his own weekly dog feature. I was hesitant at first, but I finally succumbed after a whole two days of consideration. Give the people what they want! Stalking down Ted and capturing his antics has been a challenge and a pleasure, and we love to joke about Ted’s ever-growing “Internet superstardom.” I can’t believe that I’ve written over 50 posts and built the largest photo set in my Flickr stream around this one topic.

At this point, though, I have concluded that the weekly posts have run their course. JG, Ted, and I have settled into our routine, and I’m enjoying the opportunity to sit back and pet Ted while I read, instead of having the camera at the ready for the first time he chews a tennis ball or when his ears refused to flop.

So, today, on the anniversary of the very first Dogarazzi post, I’m passing the Thursday torch to Julie and Bailey, who I am sure will carry on the tradition with pride. That’s not to say that Ted will no longer grace this neck of the woods; he just won’t do it every week or even on Thursdays, necessarily. It’s not a goodbye to Ted, just a “see you around.” With that, I leave you with highlights from our first year with Ted!

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