Scattered and Bloody

As 24-hour news stories go, I missed it.

I lost hours of my life to hanging chads, to O.J.'s glove, to a girl named Monica and unmentionable things one can do with cigars (so sorry for that one, kids), but I totally missed one of the biggies. I went to Relief Society one night where somebody, in the opening prayer, asked God to comfort those in the school shooting in Colorado and I said "Amen," opened my eyes and asked the ladies next to me, "What school shooting?"

By the time I tuned in to the events at Columbine High School, they had become a somewhat coherent story, with a who, what, when and where. But, as documented by Dave Cullen in his book, Columbine, to the people in the middle of the drama, it was a far more confusing event.

To the students trapped inside the school, it was a hunkering down in classrooms as violent noises erupted from somewhere down the hall. It was calling the news station on their cell phones and watching the anchors up on the classroom TVs talk to them.

To the police and SWAT teams assembled around the perimeter of the school, it was a foggy puzzle. How many assailants were in there? Fleeing students gave conflicting stories. "Guys in trench coats." "Guys in t-shirts." "Guys in hats." It sounded like an army, roving about with unpredictable aim and motive.

To the friends of the assailants, it was a series of lightbulb moments, when they strung together clues that they had overlooked recently in Eric and Dylan's behavior. It was the discovery that they might have aided the attack. Weren't they there when the murderers bought the guns, the bomb materials? Was that what Eric and Dylan had planned to do with these weapons?

To the parents gathered at a local elementary school, it was a long wait for the list of survivors to appear. And to some of those parents, it was an all-day wait with no word until they were finally herded into a room with comforting phrases, and maybe even some doughnuts, and finally told the bad news.

To the parents of the murderers, it was an awful awakening to their own cluelessness, for which I don't blame them, having been a clueless parent myself. It was the first day of the rest their lives, now marred as they bore the brunt of the public's anger.

Cullen devotes several chapters to the psychology of the killers, and a few more to the suits and countersuits that started flying once the initial shock wore off. Those chapters were tough to slog through. Thank goodness for other chapters documenting how the widowed and the severely injured picked up the pieces of their lives.

But enough about horror. Let's talk about brownies instead. I think you will find FAVORITE FROSTED BROWNIES difficult to resist.

1 cup butter, softened
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour
6 tablespoons baking cocoa
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
FROSTING:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/4 cup evaporated milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons baking cocoa
3 cups confectioners' sugar
Decorating sprinkles, optional

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla. Combine the flour, cocoa, baking powder and salt; gradually add to creamed mixture and mix well.
Spread into a greased 13-in. x 9-in. baking pan. Bake at 350° for 25-30 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack.
For frosting, in a bowl, beat the butter, milk and vanilla; add cocoa. Gradually beat in confectioners' sugar until smooth. Spread over cooled brownies. Decorate with sprinkles if desired. Yield: 12-15 servings.

430 cals per brownie, assuming you cut fifteen.
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Favorite-Frosted-Brownies

The woman who submitted the recipe likes to serve it in a Valentine dinner for her sweetie. We lacked a special occasion for these brownies, but that's never stopped us before.

Opera On The Cheap

Joseph Volpe almost persuades me to buy a ticket to the opera.

His memoir, The Toughest Show on Earth, recounts his rise from crack backstage carpenter to general manager of the Met. Along the way, his long hours ruined two marriages and his blunt manner (by his account) saved the beloved New York institution from union fights and out-of-control divas.

Since the Met is not real handy to me right now, I'd have to check out local opera. Somehow I doubt that I'd see the same elaborate, big-budget scenery that Volpe's directors put on the stage:

"Twelve Indonesian birds and seven pear puppets, carried by twenty running puppeteers, had to com and go during arias and duets. . . . A Las Vegas chorus of bird-headed showgirls on stilts had to peck and prance around Papageno as he fantasized about finding himself a girlfriend."

I also doubt my local opera offers running subtitles on little monitors mounted on the back of the chairs, another Volpe innovation. My, my, how that would enhance the show.

I guess I'll just make do with Volpe's book, in which he reveals which singers are the flakiest and flightiest. Is it the sopranos? The tenors? The basses? Read and find out.

He also vows that opera stars can come from anywhere, citing the case of one Charles Taylor, who was once a farmhand in Arizona, and a meth addict to boot. Let this be a lesson to those of us who have not yet reached our dreams.

My book pile also included a quittee: Dear American Airlines by Jonathan Miles. This skinny little book is a fictional letter of complaint. It sounded like a fun premise. Strangely, it was not fun at all.

I'm also about to give up on the current book on my nightstand, White Savage by Fintan O'Toole. 'Tis a very cluttered history about William Johnson of our pre-Revolutionary era. I suppose he acted as a liaison between European and Indian cultures, but I may never know for sure because O'Toole's exhaustive work is losing me fast. However, I've had some very nice naps with his book in my hands.

As for your recipe, TACO-FILLED PASTA SHELLS was a dish that came together easily after a hard week of crashing computers, a crock-pot dinner spoiled by a faulty electrical outlet and, worst of all, a cat adoption gone bad. It was comfort food indeed. It also makes extra to freeze for later.

TACO-FILLED PASTA SHELLS

2 pounds ground beef
2 envelopes taco seasoning
1 package (8 ounces) cream cheese, cubed
24 uncooked jumbo pasta shells
1/4 cup butter, melted
ADDITIONAL INGREDIENTS (for each casserole):
1 cup salsa
1 cup taco sauce
1/2 cup (2 oz.) shredded cheddar cheese
1/2 cup (2 oz.) shredded Monterey Jack cheese
2 oz. crushed tortilla chips
1 cup (8 ounces) sour cream
3 green onions, chopped (skipped this ingred.)

In a Dutch oven, cook beef over medium heat until no longer pink; drain. Add taco seasoning; prepare according to package directions. Add cream cheese; cook and stir for 5-10 minutes or until melted. Transfer to a bowl; chill for 1 hour.
Cook pasta according to package directions; drain. Gently toss with butter. Fill each shell with about 3 tablespoons of meat mixture. Place 12 shells in a freezer container. Cover and freeze for up to 3 months.
To prepare remaining shells, spoon salsa into a greased 9-in. square baking dish. Top with stuffed shells and taco sauce. Cover and bake at 350° for 30 minutes. Uncover; sprinkle with cheeses and chips. Bake 15 minutes longer or until heated through. Serve with sour cream and onions.
To use frozen shells: Thaw in the refrigerator for 24 hours (shells will be partially frozen). Spoon salsa into a greased 9-in. square baking dish; top with shells and taco sauce. Cover and bake at 350° for 40 minutes. Uncover and continue as above. Yield: 2 casseroles (6 servings each). Calories add up to 450 per serving.

Mine looked much juicier than what you'll find in the picture:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Taco-Filled-Pasta-Shells

White People Like Eating Outdoors

I'm in the mood for a picnic these days. After all, the sun is shining. The tulips are out.

Never mind that those tulips are shivering in the brisk wind out there. From my kitchen window, it certainly looks like a great day for eating under a tree. This illusion is probably what spurred me to add GRILLED SUB SANDWICH to the menu. I hope to try it again when the tulips stop shivering:

1 large green pepper, thinly sliced
1 small onion, thinly sliced and separated into rings
1/2 teaspoon olive oil
1 loaf (1 pound) unsliced Italian bread
1/3 cup prepared Italian salad dressing, divided
2 ounces sliced deli turkey
4 slices Swiss cheese
2 ounces sliced deli ham
3 slices cheddar cheese
2 ounces sliced deli pastrami (we skipped this, adding more of the other meat)
1/2 cup sliced dill pickles
1 large tomato, thinly sliced
Additional olive oil

1. In a large bowl, toss green pepper and onion with oil. Place on a double thickness of heavy-duty foil (about 12 in. square). Fold foil around vegetables and seal tightly. Grill, covered, over medium-hot heat for 12-15 minutes or until tender; set aside.
2. Cut loaf in half horizontally; remove bread from top half, leaving a 1/2-in. shell (discard removed bread or save for another use). Brush cut sides of loaf with salad dressing; place cut side down on grill. Grill, uncovered, over medium heat for 3-5 minutes or until golden brown.
3. Place bottom of loaf on a double thickness of heavy-duty foil (about 18 in. x 12 in.). Layer with turkey, two Swiss cheese slices, ham, cheddar cheese, pastrami and remaining Swiss cheese. Top with green pepper mixture, pickles and tomato.
4. Drizzle remaining dressing over cut side of bread top; place over filling. Brush bread with additional oil. Fold foil around sandwich and seal tightly. Grill, covered, over medium heat for 4-8 minutes or until cheese is melted. Cut into slices with a serrated knife. Yield: 4 servings. Our version, with fat-free dressing, came in at 555 cals per serving.
http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Grilled-Sub-Sandwich

By the way, I really tried to post a picture of the sandwich, but I still can't figure out how to do it.

As for the Finished Book Pile, today we have Stuff White People Like: The Definitive Guide to the Unique Taste of Millions by Christian Lander. Lander skewers a certain kind of white people: hipsters. I read through his book, laughing with an air of superiority because I'm not into free-trade coffee or pretending to be Canadian or Being the Only White Person Around or Having Two Last Names. But white people are also into eating outdoors (see above) so, oops!, I guess I'm busted, not to mention that I like gentrification and Netflix and Manhattan and scarves. Still, I'm pretty much a failure as a white person/hipster. But that made Lander's book all the more fun.

Send Me to Istanbul

Here I sit in the airport, having survived the indignities of check-in, but sad that I'm not taking a trip like the one Paul Theroux describes in Ghost Train to the Eastern Star. 

Or maybe not.  His trip, a retracing of the journey he wrote about in  The Great Railway Bazaar, takes him through Romania, where "The look of Bucharest was desperate and naked, . . . everyone struggling, everyone dressed as though for a hike on a rainy day or dirty job."

Or maybe so, because he also passes through Istanbul , "habitable, a city with the soul of a village . . . the sight of its mosques and churches can be almost heart-stopping, . . . Most of all I like the city for its completeness and its self-sufficiency; it is a finished work, distinctly itself."   It is "dramatic in its vistas, its spaces, its mixed population....great for walking, or taking a ferry from embankment to embankment, ... the bazaars, the gardens, the promenades, the fish markets, and the fruit stalls . . ."

When I read those passages, my birthday was coming up and I couldn't think of anything to want but a trip to Istanbul, 'cause there's nothing I love better than vistas, gardens and places to walk. 

But I settled for a box of frozen Ding-Dongs instead.

Moving along, Theroux's journey pulls him through Turkmenistan,.where the bumbling despot in charge of the amusingly miserable little nation has renamed all the days of the month and the week after his family and friends. 

Then, on to Bangalore.  All those jobs that left America?  They landed in Bangalore.  I'm sure you have all gotten your share of  calls from "Larry" or "Steve" whose accent was so thick, you weren't sure whether you just ordered a new shirt or sold your twenty shares of Apple stock. 

Maybe you were peeved enough to demand that next time they hand you off to a native speaker of English.Well, "Larry" and "Steve" are on to that little trick.  They've been practicing their American accents  and they know how to sound just like your cousin in Ashtabula.

I'm sorry if this news ruins your week.  If so, you might comfort yourself with a helping of Ravioli with Sausage:

4 cups frozen cheese ravioli (about 12 ounces)
1/2 pound smoked sausage, sliced
1 cup chopped green pepper
1 jar (24 ounces) meatless spaghetti sauce
1/4 cup shredded Parmesan cheese

Cook ravioli according to package directions. Meanwhile, in a large skillet, saute sausage and green pepper for 2-3 minutes or until green pepper is tender. Stir in spaghetti sauce; heat through. Drain ravioli; toss with sausage mixture. Sprinkle with cheese. Yield: 5 servings of about one cup each, 361 calories. 

I'm stuffed in a middle seat on the plane now, not headed for Istanbul.   Just gonna have to make do with Denver.

Shallow Beauty

I want to cut my hair in a bob and get myself a diaphanous dress. That's what I get for reading Somerset Maugham's The Painted Veil. Set in the 1920s among British colonials off doing their job in Hong Kong, Veil tells the story of Kitty Fane, who marries in haste, then takes comfort in the arms of a dashing colonial officer.

Midway through the story, Kitty risks becoming a decent person. This slim tale, told in a spare and serious tone, is actually more fun when Kitty is shallow.

No cow patties, which is amazing, given the subject.

And speaking of shallow things, I know people pay tribute to true beauty and deep beauty but, face it, shallow beauty makes for much better stories. And let's not blame our culture for shallow beauty's grip on our eyes. Nope, it is bred right into our genes. A certain little boy I know possessed an eye for beauty long before he tasted his first solid food. He could pick out the prettiest girl in the room and flash her his biggest smile. If his studio-shot pictures came back with a particularly happy face, I knew the photographer must have quite a looker.

And speaking of the shallow versus the deep and the true, we feature a dessert that tastes like a granola bar, except that it's redeemed by a whole lot of chocolate.

In fact, in the last granola bar commercial I saw, the voice-over preached the bars' virtues--the fiber, the nutrients--while the camera came in close on its vices--thick scoops of peanut butter, slow-mo shots of a stream of dripping chocolate. This, my friends, was food porn.

Those granola bars couldn't be much worse than CHOCOLATE OATMEAL BARS:

1/3 cup butter, softened
1 cup packed brown sugar
1/3 cup corn syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 cups quick-cooking oats
1 package (11-1/2 ounces) milk chocolate chips
2/3 cup chunky peanut butter
4 Heath candy bars (1.4 ounces each), crushed

In a large bowl, cream the butter and brown sugar until and fluffy. Beat in corn syrup and vanilla. Stir in oats; press into a greased 13-in. x 9-in. baking pan.
Bake at 350° for 12-15 minutes or until golden brown. Cool on a wire rack.
In a microwave, melt chocolate chips and peanut butter; stir until blended. Spread over cooled bars. Sprinkle with crushed candy bars. Chill until set; cut into bars. Yield: 3 dozen @ 160 cals. per bar.

I suppose any candy bar will do. I'd better make them again soon, with Butterfingers, just to make sure. :-)

http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Chocolate-Oatmeal-Bars-2

Complete This Sentence

My pet peeves. A list. No, just one item. Big one though.

Sentence fragments. Drive me nuts. Doubling over. In pain. Oh, the pretentiousness!

That's why I quit The Marrowbone Marble Company by Glenn Taylor. Amazon fell in love with this book, touting it as one of the best of whatever year it came out. A story about simple people who have a good idea and start up a company sounds tempting, no? I love those kinds of stories.

But Taylor, man of fragments, came off like a rank amateur. Maybe he should try his hand at haiku.

I did, however, love running my fingers over the embossed bird wings on the book jacket.

Next up, Life on the Mississippi by Mark Twain. I had my doubts. The cover was a dull gray, and no embossed bird wings to fondle.

But now I understand why Twain is famous. We have no plot here, and too many characters to remember. We're talking about a twisty, long river, for goodness sakes, and the people who pilot it and put up with its floody moods. Still, between Twain's exaggerations and his self-deprecations, he makes it all (well, most of it) quite engaging.

He begins in his boyhood, where all his little friends in Hannibal, MO, watched the steamboats chugging up and down the river. They all longed to get on those boats and Live Life. Finally, one of the Hannibal boys hired on to a boat, and when he returned to tell his adventures, to brag about how well he knew "St. Looy," they "envied him and loathed him."

You have to slow down and adopt the rhythms of yesteryear to enjoy Twain's book. But at least the man completes his sentences. I'm sorry that he's long gone. I'm sure he would have made for a most interesting dinner guest.

As for your dinner, I offer ALMOND RASPBERRY TOSSED SALAD. This is for people who would rather skip vegetables and go straight to dessert. If we make the green stuff interesting enough and sweet enough, I will devour it.

8 cups torn romaine
1 cup fresh raspberries (I used strawberries)
1/2 cup sliced almonds, toasted
1/2 cup seedless raspberry jam (strawberry jam at our house)
1/4 cup white wine vinegar
1/4 cup honey
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons vegetable oil

In a salad bowl, combine the romaine, raspberries and almonds. In a blender, combine the remaining ingredients; cover and process until smooth. Serve with salad. Yield: 10 servings, 140 cals. each.
http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Almond-Raspberry-Tossed-Salad

We served this at the Jim's wedding "rehearsal dinner." All the new relatives got along great. I think the salad deserves the credit.

Half of That Billion is Mine, You Lout

This week, one of my Facebook friends lamented having to make menus. She hates, hates, hates it every week.

I love, love, love it! But how would it have looked if I went on her post and told her so? Neener, neener, neener?

Still, I really can't help myself. I'd rather plan and cook meals than learn how to post pictures on this blog.

So let's try something different this week. Here's our menus from the last week, with links, if I've got them (another way to get out of posting pictures--whee!).

On a Saturday night, we were signed up to share the the sister missionaries. We brought out the clamshells and packed up our family's favorite main dish, the ever gooey and sharp-tasting Skillet Mac 'n Cheese, as well as Microwave Apple Crisp.

SKILLET MAC 'N CHEESE:
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter or margarine
1 3/4 cup (7 oz.) uncooked elbow macaroni
1 large onion, chopped
1/2 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. garlic powder
1/8 tsp. pepper
1/2 tsp. oregano
1/8 tsp. dry mustard
2 cups water
1 TB flour
1 can (12 oz.) evaporated milk
2 cups (8 oz.) sharp cheddar cheese, shredded

In large skillet melt butter over low heat. Add uncooked macaroni, onion and seasonings. Cook, stirring occasionally, over medium heat for 7 minutes, or until onion becomes transparent. Add water; bring to boil. Cover; simmer 20 minutes or until macaroni is tender. Sprinkle flour over mixture; blend well. Stir in evaporated milk and shredded cheese. Simmer 5 minutes longer, stirring occasionally, until cheese melts. Serve hot. Makes 6 servings, 400 cals. ea.

MICROWAVE APPLE CRISP:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Microwave-Apple-Crisp

The next day was Fast Sunday. I don't know how much credit we get for going hungry when, after the long hours pass, we gather around the table and mow through mounds of something like this (which should, by the way, go in your file of disgustingly easy main dishes):
CHICKEN 'N NOODLES SKILLET:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Chicken--n--Noodle-Skillet
And I do believe a certain picky-eater grandson actually ate some ORANGE GLAZED CARROTS:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Orange-Glazed-Carrots

On Monday, we went in for a veggie option. It's a little strange, but appeals to people who like their food gooey, and that would be me. I don't know why the peppers and onion taste so sweet in this, but they do.
VEGETABLE TORTILLA STACK:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/SiteSearch/FacetSearchResults.aspx?search=VEGETABLE%20TORTILLA%20STACK&st=2&vw=1&page=1&rs=10&sort=0&searchSource=hdrbox-Recipes
Dessert was like a visit to the ice cream shop as we forked our way through MALTED MILK PIE: (didn't hurt that we had a lot of Whoppers left over either)
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Malted-Milk-Pie

Tuesday night, it was time to repent of a weekend full of desserts. Fortunately, I didn't notice the deprivation, since I love CHICKEN CAESAR SALAD PIZZA so much. I think it's appeared on this blog before, but here goes:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Chicken-Caesar-Salad-Pizza

As for Wednesday, we've also featured this recipe before, but why would I let that stop me from trotting it out again? That's why we try new things, right? So we know what we want to eat again and again?
HONEY CHICKEN STIR-FRY:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Honey-Chicken-Stir-Fry

Thursday's dinner, well, it didn't turn out as well as I remember. I think I got a little free with the dill weed this time, but I'm sure you won't make the same mistake. It was CREAMY HAM TURNOVERS, and the smell of the baking crust pretty much drives hungry people nuts:
http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/Creamy-Ham-Turnovers

And now, over on the Finished Book Pile, we have All We Ever Wanted Was Everything, by Janelle Brown:

Janice Miller wakes up one day to a news report that her husband's pharmaceutical company has just gone public and the prices shoot straight up to the stratosphere. Let's see now, if Paul and I own this many shares and the shares are worth $$$XXX, oh my, oh my, oh my, that means we're stinkin' rich! She spends her day buying groceries and fresh flowers for the celebration, only to open an e-mail from her husband telling her that the marriage is over.

Her teenage daughter watches Janice swing wildly between frantic house-cleaning and laying in bed with greasy hair and a bottle of wine. Eventually an adult daughter returns home and the three women tiptoe around each other in their comfy custom home, each woman trying to keep some pretty big secrets from the others.

If only I had a beach on which to read this book, because that's just the kind of book it was. A cow patty or two.

Next up, Nine Lives by Dan Baum. Baum chronicles nine residents of New Orleans, extracting from them their life stories clear back to the '60s and following them up through Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. Baum's subjects hail from all walks of life, from the Garden District's upper crust to the dismal streets of the Lower Ninth Ward, the section wiped out by the levee break.

The Lower Ninth knew it was never as fancy as uptown New Orleans, but it was a decent little neighborhood. Or it was until containerized shipping destroyed the jobs along the riverfront. After that, the Ninth turned in to a place of men idling on porches, youthful gangs roaming the streets, up to no good, and grandmas tending the flowers in their gardens, holding on in the face of a creeping hopelessness.

As for cow patties, I'd say there is one cow patty character. You can avoid his sections chapters until the middle of the book or so, when things get better.

Happy reading and eating.