If you move to Louisville, choose a house with a short driveway. And preferably one with a slight incline. Else you may, as I did this morning, spend a hour and a half shoveling it out.
After spending the evening on Beale Street in Memphis last night, my wife watching the Super Bowl, I went to bed, expecting the forecasted snow showers and rain in the morning to slow down our trip back home.
Instead, I a
woke to three inches on the ground and snowing so hard I could not see the Mississippi River a block away. All the schools and government offices were closed, which probably worked to our advantage by keeping the traffic down. It was certainly a slickery trip out of town.
Super Bowl Sunday, and we’re back in downtown Memphis. We head down to Beale Street to see if anything’s open and if we can watch the football game there.
We’ve been there several times before, but had never seen it so empty. In fact, all of Beale Street was nearly deserted, but not quiet – the speakers that are usually blaring music were blaring the Super Bowl game. Charlaine particulary likes the Blues City Cafe because the grill is out in the dining area and she loves to watch cooks at work (she’s an inveterate Iron Chef America fan). An appetizer of tamales and chili helped warm us up (it’s just above freezing outside) during the kickoff.
Next, it was the Pig On Beale (“Pork with an Attitude”). They serve anything you want, as long as it’s pork (well, I do think that they will barbecue you a chicken thigh if you ask). This is a relatively new restaurant that’s been winning all kinds of awards for their pork the last several years. I had a pulled pork sandwich; Charlaine did not order anything, as pork is not her most favorite dish. But once the pork arrived, it was so good that she kept sneaking pieces of it off my plate.
Finally, we went to Silky O’Sullivan’s to watch the second quarter and so Charlaine could have a plate of oysters. It was all good.
No, Louisville is not known for its boiled crawfish. But tonight we found ourselves in Fernwood, Mississippi, home of Fernwood Seafood, a surprisingly good restaurant for being (forgive the expression, Fernwoodians) in the middle of nowhere. Delicious boiled crawfish, fried catfish, spicy shrimp salads, po-boys, and more – enough to make you think that you’re south of the border. The Mississippi-Louisiana border, that is; about fifteen miles away.
Last year, my wife treated me and bought me some fancy yogurt from the Rainbow Blossom. This is the stuff that sells for $3.50 (or more) a quart; pretty expensive milk, but it does taste awfully good. In fact, I found myself unable to go back to the cheaper yogurt that I had been eating for years. As the yogurt bills began to mount, I figured that there must be something that I can do to bring the costs in line.
Well, you can buy yogurt makers, but most all of them work with little glass cups that look like they’re a hassle to deal with. I wanted to just grow a quart at a time. Turns out that Salton made an inexpensive quart yogurt maker for years, but ceased production last year. Guess they decided that they weren’t going to get rich selling fifteen dollar yogurt makers.
Once again, the Food Network came to the rescue. Here’s how to get yogurt from a cardboard box: Take a quart of milk (better milk makes better yogurt, but I’ve had surprisingly good results with cheap milk). Whisk in ½ cup of dry milk. Heat this mix to 160°F (use a candy thermometer), stirring constantly to avoid scorching. Let the mix cool to 120°, then whisk 1 cup of the mix into ½ cup of room-temperature yogurt (use the expensive yogurt here). Whisk this yogurt mixture back into the warm milk, then pour it all into a container with a tight-fitting lid (I use a top-of-the-line tupperware container; you might want to use glass if cooking in plastic bothers you). Wrap the container in a tea towel, wrap a heating pad around that, set the heating pad to medium, and put it all in a cardboard box. Let this sit undisturbed for six to twelve hours, then take out the container and put it in the refrigerator for at least eight hours.
You may have to experiment with your heating pad at first. Remember to keep everything very, very clean. Some people won’t heat the milk to 160°F first, but since that’s what kills off any undesirable bacteria, I wouldn’t recommend skipping that step unless you know you have a very strong immune system.
With a cardboard box, you should be able to cut your yogurt costs in half.
This last week, we received three Netflix discs in a row that would barely play. They would constantly hang up and skip over scenes, no matter how many times I polished them with Windex. My wife was ready to call up Netflix and demand to speak with someone about the lousy discs they kept sending us when I suggested that I first try playing one on the computer. It played fine. So the problem was our player. “How old is this player?” I asked, “When did we get it?” We couldn’t remember.
So this morning I went to the local appliance store just as they were opening. I was greeted by one of the salesmen. I told him I wanted a new DVD player. He asked if I needed one with a VHS player (was it the grey in my beard?). I said No. He didn’t even begin to steer me over toward the fancy HiFi players, but instead took me directly to the one they had on sale for thirty dollars. I’m thinking he just wanted to get me out of the store as quickly as possible so that he’d have a chance at somebody who wanted to spend some real money and generate a worthwhile commission.
The new player works fine, especially for thirty dollars. One thing that is really cool is that if you take a disc out before the movie is through, and then put it back in later, it picks up right where it left off. How does it know?
Terrible!
It’s been below freezing for over a week here, and I don’t know if that has anything to do with it, but the dog had really started to reek.
Usually I take her out into the driveway and wash her down, but with it eighteen degrees outside, that’s just not an option. So we both got into the shower stall and did the deed there. I don’t believe that either of us is looking forward to repeating that experience again any time soon. But she does smell a lot better.
I raked up the leaves in the front yard this morning for what I hope is the last time this season. It was sixteen degrees, less whatever windchill factor there was. And it really wasn’t that bad.
Last week, I left work to go for a jog in the park. It was forty-three degrees, and I remember thinking to myself that it was actually rather pleasant outside. This is from a man who, when living in Houston, considered forty-five degrees to be pretty much the limit of human endurance.
I’m not sure if I’m getting tougher or softer.
Today we had our Xmas lunch at work. It was served buffet-style, with two lines: a vegetarian/roast chicken line, and a fried chicken/roast beef line.
Those who know me know that I don’t care for beef, but that I do eat a lot of dairy products. As I was waiting in the roast chicken line, a co-worker pointed out that if I wanted roast beef, it was in the other line. “No,” I said, “I only eat renewable cow products.”
After my earlier post about Kroger shoppers who apparently have difficulty detecting cold, I came across this video of some really cold people.
