Thursday, January 26, 2012

Reading For A Cure!

Today, I'm blogging at Reading For A Cure. Please take a moment to go check it out, and consider signing up for the reading challenge!

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

I Eat My Own Kind...

Wanna make some trout? I know you do. Here's my recipe for trout and roasted red skin potatoes.

You're gonna need:
For the trout
2 tout fillets
Dill weed (LOL)
Black pepper
Olive oil
Aluminum foil
A shallow baking dish.
Some pliers

For the potatoes
A bag of redskin potatoes
Olive oil
1 garlic clove
A bowl
A cookie sheet

Make the potatoes first. They take the longest. Set your oven to good ole 350. Then get out your cutting board and start cutting up your washed red potatoes. Leave the skin on, cut them into chunks. Not too small, but smaller than a quarter of the spud, you dig? I didn't have a ruler handy, but I figure they were probably 1" x 1" or so.

When they're all chunked up nicely (we used to say that particularly long, unbroken paragraphs were "chunking up the page" in my critique group), put them in your mixing bowl Pour on the olive oil. Don't go crazy here, you just want to be able to coat the potatoes you've got, not drown them. Mince up that garlic clove. Throw it in there, too. Sprinkle on the rosemary, fresh or from the cupboard, I don't care, both work. Toss it like a salad, then spread the taters out on your cookie sheet. Throw them in the oven. You're a superstar.

Take your trout fillets and lay them skin side down. Take your handy dandy pliers and run your finger down the fillet, feeling for pin bones. If you find one, grab that fucker with the pliers and pull it out. Do it like an eyebrow hair, pull in the direction of the growth. Try not to rip a bunch of fish off, too, you know. Save some for the oven.

After that part is done, get yourself a sheet of aluminum foil that is big enough for both fillets. Slap them on there and pour some olive oil on the fish, the foil, go crazy. Olive oil is good for you. Then season it with dill and pepper. Throw another piece of foil over the top and seal the edges together. Then put the packet in a shallow baking dish and put it in the oven.

The potatoes are done when you can stick a fork through them easily. The fish is done when when the flesh is flakey when you rake a fork over it. I don't use timers when I cook, but I'd estimate 20 minutes. Check on it at 15, though.

You can either take the skin off the fish before you serve it or just let the eater do that his or herself. I, personally, like to take the skin off at my plate, because it feels like a primal celebration of the kill.

Serve some other veggies with that, too. Broccoli is always good.

Monday, January 16, 2012

Down here, everything knits...

My grandmother is a treasure trove of crafting resources. If you need a certain type of fabric, she has it. If you've always wanted to latch-hook a rug, she's got kits for that. She's spent a lot of time at auctions, bidding on crafting lots, so occasionally she ends up with stuff she doesn't need, like knitting stuff. She doesn't knit, so she passes these things along to me, because I am also crafty.

This is how I came into possession of the single most terrifying thing I've ever seen in my entire life. The February-March 1984 edition of Annie's Pattern Club. Behold:

It's nice to know that Pennywise has some hobbies to keep him busy. Seriously, the first time I looked at this cover, I didn't see the fucking clown. In fact, the second time I looked at this cover, I didn't see the fucking clown. Like clowns often do, he was lurking, waiting to unleash his horror when I least expected it. I picked this up, said, "Huh, that's kind of a cute afghan there I OH MY GOD NO."

You'll notice that the cover promises a needle craft "surprise". What is that surprise, you ask? Murder. The surprise is murder. By clown. Possibly with a knitting needle.

Sweet dreams.