Recipe post!

1546085_10152121413308926_871113375_nIt’s Vegetarian Week 2, and apparently I can’t get through a vegetarian week without quinoa raising its unpronounceable grainy face somewhere.  Plus since I was the only one who didn’t have to go to work today, dinner was obviously going to be on me.

“Peruvian” Quinoa Stew

“Peruvian” is in quotation marks because I somewhat doubt the provenance of the recipe.  First, acquire and chop up all of the following:

  • About two cups’ worth of onions; I used four little ones
  • Two cloves of garlic
  • Two small zucchini or one really big one
  • Tomatoes (I used a can of diced; you can chop the hell out of a fresh one or a couple of fresh ones if you like; it won’t matter)
  • A bell pepper
  • A stalk or two of celery
  • A carrot or two

I generally do a mise en place setup; in other words, get all my shit chopped up and in little bowls before I start actually cooking anything.  Put the onions and garlic together, the carrots and celery together, and the zucchini and bell pepper together.

Before you start sautéing anything, get the quinoa going: boil about a cup of water in a small pot, and once it’s boiling put in half a cup of rinsed (RINSED!!! TRUST ME!!!) quinoa.  Cover it and leave it alone for ten to twelve minutes; basically pretend it’s rice.  You can start cooking everything else once the quinoa is in the water; the timing will work out nicely.

Get a big flat-bottomed wok or Dutch oven and put a couple of tablespoons of vegetable oil in it.  Sauté the onions and the garlic together for about five minutes on medium-high heat, stirring frequently, then toss in the celery and carrots and put a lid on the Dutch oven.  The celery and carrots should cook for about five more minutes; take the lid off and stir a couple of times while that’s happening.  Check the quinoa at this point and see if it’s absorbed all the water.  If it has, keep it covered, fluff it like it’s rice, and pull it off the heat; if not, add everything in the next part and then pull the quinoa after you’ve got the pot covered:

Add the following to your vegetables:

  • Your tomatoes;
  • A cup of vegetable stock;
  • two teaspoons of ground cumin;
  • a teaspoon of ground coriander;
  • half a teaspoon of chili powder;
  • a teaspoon of dried oregano;
  • a few shakes of cayenne pepper

Stir it up, cover the pot, turn down the heat a bit, and let it simmer for another ten or twelve minutes.  If the veggies are soft by then, toss the quinoa into the wok and stir everything up.  You’re done.

Add a bit of cheddar cheese and maybe some sour cream once it’s in a bowl.  Delish.

Terrible Decisions: the plumberation

photoOrrighty then.  Plumber’s been here, and the new hardware for the new faucet is installed and ready to be cement-boarded back out of existence.  And at a fairly reasonable cost, too, especially since everything I saw him do convinced me that there’s no way I had any business trying to get that done myself.

I kinda wish it wasn’t a two-person job to cut the cement board accurately or I’d try getting that done today, since I’m home from work on account of Polar Vortex again.

I’m planning on working on Benevolence Archives all day today, so if you’ve been following that you can look forward to an update this afternoon or early evening sometime.

 

In praise of maligned foods

IMG_1045Here’s my policy on trying new foods:  If you can adequately demonstrate to me that any given food is eaten by any community of actual humans, anywhere in the world, on purpose, I’ll try it.  I’m specifying “on purpose” so that I can avoid eating foods that are clearly only considered “food” by necessity.  If something is only eaten because the people who eat it can’t afford to eat anything better or because they live in some sun- or ice-blasted hellhole and there is literally no other food anywhere, I reserve the right to refuse to try it.  But if you take those people and move them somewhere with a McDonald’s and a subscription to the Pie of the Month club and a generation later they’re still eating Grandma’s famous recipe for fried boar nuts, then I’m gonna try me some fried boar nuts if you put ’em in front of me.

There are really not a whole lot of foods that I’ve tried and won’t eat.  I don’t like raw onions under most circumstances (guacamole being a rare exception); cook them at all and I’m all good.  I’m not fond of peas if they’re mushy; peas that are cooked so that they sorta “pop” when you bite into them are fine.  Green beans, baked beans.  And I’ve reaffirmed this week that parsnips aren’t food.

(I’m doing the vegetarian thing again this week, in case you haven’t figured this out yet.  I accidentally ate a piece of sausage and pepperoni pizza yesterday, so I’m doing a bad job.  But dinners have been consistent.)

Let’s talk about Brussels sprouts.  Brussels sprouts, quite possibly the least popular vegetable known to American culture.

I’ve had Brussels sprouts once.  My wife made them.  She is also not fond of Brussels sprouts, so we were both experimenting.  They were boiled.  (EDIT:  My wife claims my mom made them.  This is odd; my mother never made Brussels sprouts when I was a kid.)

spit the damn thing out.  I don’t do that with food, guys.  I don’t care how bad I think something is, I’m gonna finish at least a bite of it before I punch you and refuse to have any more.  My mouth sent me an immediate and unambiguous “this is not food WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING” message and I spit it out as authoritatively as if some miscreant had placed a live bee into my mouth.  I’m not sure it was even in my mouth long enough to register the taste.  Nope.  Not food.  Gone.

Here’s the thing, though:  I can’t always trust myself.  I spent the first year of our marriage saying things like “I don’t usually like shrimp, but…” every month or so until my wife pointed out that maybe I actually did like shrimp.  So when she found a recipe for roasted Brussels sprouts and wanted to incorporate them into Vegetarian Week 2, I decided to roll with it.

They smelled good while they were roasting.  Good sign, I thought.

“They’re not bad,” she told me as I was sitting down at the table.  “Maybe a little bitter.”  She doesn’t like these things either, remember, so I inspected her face carefully for signs of deception.  She was quite entertained when I’d spit the previous attempt out, so this could have all been a ruse.

I speared one with a fork.  Did my best Joe Bastianich impression as I lifted it to my nose, stared at it disdainfully, and smelled it.

And tasted it.

PEOPLE OF AMERICA!   HELL, PEOPLE OF EARTH!

Why the fuck is boiling Brussels sprouts even a thing Jesus they’re goddamn delicious roasted WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

I know the picture above doesn’t look like much.  Here’s the recipe:  Brussels sprouts, apples, pears, sweet potatoes, butternut squash, a little olive oil, cinnamon, sea salt.  Mix and roast.  Serve over brown rice.

By the end of the meal I was literally using my hands to pack more food onto my fork.  I could eat this forever.  Same vegetable I spit out when it was served to me boiled.  Delicious, delicious, delicious, go eat some right now.  There’s a teeny bit of bitterness if you eat one solo but they’ve got this awesome nutty flavor to them and combining them with fruit and a bit of cinnamon is bananas good.  Apparently there were supposed to be some (unroasted) cranberries scattered over the top as a last step; I can only imagine that making things better.

Seriously go eat some Brussels sprouts right now.  Just don’t boil them. Why the hell would you boil them?  You clearly already have heat and that’s the only thing you need to roast stuff.

Somebody bring me some lutefisk; I’m on a roll.

In which I’m still here

alive“Be interesting” may be beyond me at the moment; consider this a proof of life post.

This was supposed to be the Week of Meetings; bad weather cancelled two of the three and there are dark rumors floating around about tomorrow; it’s supposed to be around five below zero between six and seven AM tomorrow, which is when the buses are picking the kids up and the walkers are walking.  That means maybe twenty below with the wind chill; nothing compared to a couple of weeks ago where it was forty below, but still probably too cold to get everybody to school.  Monday and Tuesday next week are supposed to be bullshit too.

…yeah, I got nothin’.  I spent all day in a meeting; it was good and productive and useful (even if technically it’s probably not done yet; we have a lot more work to do) but it’s kind of sapped my will to be creative and funny right now, and right now everywhere I’m looking on the Internet is pissing me off, and I’m not really in the mood for a long politics rant right now.  Apparently every Republican in America has decided to say or do something fucking stupid about either gay people or women in the last 24 hours.  I don’t know why.  I’m perfectly happy for the epidemic to stop any goddamn time now, thanks, you assholes.

Important tip for writers

…when you discover that you’ve just written an entire conversation where your characters aren’t doing anything but complaining about your plot, it may be time to step away from the computer for the night and possibly retool the sequence you’re working on.

Seriously.  Brazel just went on a hundred-word rant about how dumb the idea that I put into his head was.  That… may be a problem.  🙂

In which I declare defeat

Be it known that I have officially declared myself Wrong, and that the previous post shall be consigned to the flames.  Metaphorically.  I’m not deleting it or anything, and I’m not sure how I’d set an interwebs post on fire.

That would be a great superpower, though.

This may look pissy after that announcement, but after a long day at work and about half an hour of staring at the screen I’m also declaring defeat on having anything useful to say tonight.  I just discovered K’naan, and I think I’m going to spend the evening grooving.  Have a video or two:

And, honest to God, this one has a Chubb Rock cameo. I’m not even sure I knew Chubb Rock was still alive. Awesome:

This isn’t strictly a video– some YouTuber put it together– but Christ I love the hell out of this song.  Stunning, beautiful stuff; make sure to pay attention to the lyrics:

What music do you guys listen to? I want more new stuff.

Point of etiquette

Dining_Etiquette_Diagram

My email making it into the wild appears to be a theme this week for some reason.  I just spent ten minutes looking around on my blog on a browser I wasn’t logged in on, trying to figure out how the hell somebody pulled my email off of the site.  I’d gotten a wildly annoying email on an education topic that I assumed initially was a response to yesterday’s post about Jihad.

I’m pretty sure I got that wrong, now: I just remembered a throwaway comment on another blog that I made earlier today– not anything remotely controversial or rude, mind you, just a simple factual comment about education– and read in that context the email makes a bit more sense, even if the content is still wildly annoying.  It’s just wildly annoying and explicable instead of wildly annoying and inexplicable.  

Here’s a rule that I didn’t realize was a rule:  don’t email me about blog comments, especially if you didn’t bother to approve my comment in the first place.  And here’s why what was otherwise a minor irritation turned into a post: because (believe it or not) I don’t like being unreasonable, and I feel like being annoyed by this counts as unreasonable.  I need a ruling, folks.

Note that the dude didn’t show any actual indication that he wanted to have a conversation about the post; it’s a short, stupid screed.  If there had been follow-up questions or something like that I might be more inclined to be charitable, (although “dude, you don’t maybe wanna talk about this on the blog?” might have been asked) but no: this was just an aggravatingly ignorant comment.  In my damn inbox.  Where it doesn’t belong.

So, constant reader (and inconstant reader as well):  Am I off base here?  Or is this sorta fucked up?

In which it wasn’t supposed to be a good day

Here’s what was supposed to happen today: Spend all morning struggling with seventh graders fresh off a four-day weekend, who happen to have a test tomorrow, a test where I unfortunately am far more invested in their scores than they are.  Immediately after school, have a data team meeting.  At six– which gives me enough time to go out and grab something fatty and gross for dinner from someplace nearby– spend another hour at school for the seventh grade’s Parent Night, an event that historically has been impossible to project attendance for– that said, I am projecting an attendance of zero, which is embarrassing, and also probably means that attendance will be a hundred and I will look unprepared.  I have a presentation and am running an activity.  This will last until seven.  I am doing this because I am a team player and I care about my building; I am really, really not looking forward to it.

Then go home, spend six seconds with my son, and basically go to bed, because I’m still all beat to hell from spending all day yesterday throwing cement board around.

During homeroom, my boss walks in and waves me over to the door.  First, he tells me that our after-school meeting is cancelled in favor of the all-day thing we’re doing on Thursday this week.  Then the awesome thing happens:  “Thinking about postponing Parent Night, too,” he says.  There’s bad weather coming tonight.  I do everything short of literally falling to my knees in the hallway begging him to follow through with this plan.  Hey, wait!  Maybe this will be a good day after all!

Halfway through Success period Kid #2 of The Kids who are Always Suspended and are Now Both Expelled strides into my class and loudly announces that he’s back, thus literally managing to do something wrong and annoy me the very second I become aware of his existence.  Jihad was expelled for the last month and a half or so of first semester; I had been told that he’d been strongly encouraged to go elsewhere and as of last Thursday my assistant principal was still telling me she was pretty sure he wasn’t coming back.

Really, universe?  You give me my evening back and then put fucking JIHAD back in my classroom?  You’re fucking kidding me right now, right?  Whose Wheaties did I piss in this morning?

Fuck.

He needs to know what Success group he’s in; fine, go to Teacher X, just get the hell away from me.  After Success ends I walk down to Teacher X’s room to let him know my reasoning for having done this terrible thing to him.  By the time I get back to my room, Jihad– who has just missed something like seven straight weeks of school— is already making as ass of himself in the hallway with another kid whose behavior has been more or less on point since he got kicked out.

Relevant point:  I have not written so much as an ISS referral in 2014.  No detentions, no office referrals, no ISS time-outs.  Nothing.

He managed to make it through math.  That said, his influence was felt; first and second hour were the worst-behaved they’ve been in weeks– which is what Jihad does.  Not only is he personally a shithead, he makes everyone else around him worse-behaved than they otherwise would be.  He got put in ISS on a time-out during 3rd hour.  I had to personally refer him to the cafeteria after third hour ended because he was trying to start some shit with some kids in the hallway, and after lunch he decided to run his mouth to one of the eighth graders (with thirty or forty kids, all hooting and hollering and expecting a fight, in between him and the other kid, which is the only way he ever runs his mouth) and I personally took his ass to the office.  He, naturally, blamed me for the entire encounter– I apparently left my classroom, walked all the way down the hallway, then took him to the office for nothing more than putting his arms above his head.  I have time for that!  I do it every day.

Apparently Momma decided to buy his line of bullshit– surprise surprise– and I put a quick end to it by pointing out that the entire interaction was captured on video.  Which it was.  And said video entirely confirmed my side of the story.  Because, as it turns out, I do not leave my students to walk halfway down the hall to take a kid to the office for waving his hands over his head.  I am, however, rather likely to go down the hallway to get a kid who is obviously trying his damnedest to instigate a riot and haul his ass to the office.

Momma did not enjoy our parent conference; Jihad managed to make it through barely half the day (there are four class periods after lunch) before being suspended for three days, and stormed out of the office insisting that she was withdrawing him immediately.

I feel compelled to point out that this is not the first time I’ve heard that.  So we’ll see if he actually drops off my roster.  But if I don’t have to go to my meeting, don’t have to go to Parent Night, and I’ve seen the end of Jihad?  That’s a good day.