Thursday, February 27, 2014

Late Night Emailing...


Last night at about 1 AM, I was laying in bed reading a book about a search looking for the Holy Grail, the chalice that Jesus drank from during "The Last Supper", me a nice Jewish boy from Skokie. Earlier in the day, I received a short note from a total stranger on Match.com seeking my attention. I didn't find her attractive and way to far away from me, so I sent her a brief polite note explaining that I didn't think we were a very good match. THE END, or so I thought.

Hello   Katskitchen
Let's get together for coffee and chat 602. 555.5555  
Kate

Shortly after 1 AM, I get a vibrate on the night stand next to my bed indicating a message from someone on Match.com. Here is that note and my reply.
Hi bill
Please tell me what happened. I would like to know what happened to us.Please let me know . 
Kate lord know I never met to hurt you for anything. You touched my soul . I need to know what I did wrong
MY REPLY:
RE: Hi bill
And there lies your problem, I am not Bill!

I thought that would be the end of it, as surely she would recognize her error, right? NOPE! About 30 minutes later, the next email came:
she writes:
Well then who are you. We have a lot going fir us
Please write back please
That's when I had to block her from contacting me. Here is another problem. I cannot decide if she was just drunk or the victim of the sleeping aid, Ambien! Let's face it, all users of Ambien have written emails like that, haven't they?

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Headaches...



Some time about 30 years ago, my son Brad was about 10 years old. If I recall correctly, I wanted to go someplace that didn't particularly interest a 10 year old, like a mall and I recall Brad telling me that he had a headache, something he undoubtedly learned from his mother. Without waiting or stalling or questioning why, I immediately responded, "You have to be 12 to get headaches", and he put on his jacket we never discussed it again, all the while me thinking how I pulled that off without a hitch.

Fast forward 30 years and we're all at Max's hockey game on Sunday late afternoon about 6 PM. It was Brad and his wife Julie and Brad's business partner Maurice, who was stuck here for a layover, coming home from a business trip. The hockey game was over, our team lost by one, a real nail biter and Max had spent Saturday night at a sleepover at a buddy's house, meaning he got little or no sleep. The plan was that we were all to go to a restaurant for a quick meal, when Max, who was fidgety said he had a headache. Without thinking, Brad looked at him and said, you have to be 12 to get headaches and looked at me and smiled. A chill ran through my entire body as I realized, I guess I didn't pull that off so many years ago!

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

How to Make Chicken Broth out of Albertson's Dead Chicken...

Last week Albertson's had chicken breasts, boneless and skinless for $1.49 and pound. Although I don't usually shop at Albertson's, it's only because there is not one close by. I look it up on the Internet and discover one about 6 minutes away, according to Google Maps. I keep their ad on my counter for a few days and wait for my not-so-busy schedule to offer a time slot open for chicken shopping. Alas, on the 7th of Feb, something opens up, I locate the huge food shopping conglomerate easily and enter. I locate the meat counter placed easily within shopping distance and notice that there is a table with pies displayed on my course and pick one up, as I'm dangerously low on pie. That's when I notice that their pies are $5.69 each and they look exactly the same as Fry's pies, for $4.49. Same packaging and everything! I replace the pie back and make a mental note of my savings. (try to picture me tapping my head with my finger noting how bright I think I am for noticing the price difference). I find the dead chicken and make my purchase. The package I choose has about 5 huge breasts in it making my purchase about $1.50 per breast. The expiration date is 2/11 so I've got 4 days to use or freeze them, perfect!

Yesterday, I sliced the breasts thinly and make a marinade of olive oil, lemon juice and Dash for spices and let it sit in the fridge for 24 hours in my $11 plastic bag, as mentioned in previous post. Tonight for dinner, I lit my propane grill and heated the coals, sprayed the grill with butter flavored Pam and place a thin layer of chicken slices evenly across the cooking surface. About a minute later, (and I thought it was running low) my propane ran out and the fire went out! Dammit! (Somehow I always picture it running out right when my steak is perfectly cooked, but it never winds up that way).

Now I carry my half raw chicken into the house and decide to use the toaster oven to finish it off. I recently bought a pan that fit perfectly inside my toaster oven, so I lined it with tin foil and popped it in and waited. About 5 minutes later, I'm prepared to turn my dead chicken over, so as not to over cook it and what do I find? My chicken breasts are floating in water and boiling like mad! It was Chicken broth that Albertson's has injected into their meat products to increase the weight. I felt violated, conned, and still hungry! This is a plot to get more of our money, don't you see?

In addition, the reason that the breasts were so huge was that they were layers that had outlived their usefulness and were slaughtered. They had lived way longer than a spring fryer, that is usually about 6 weeks old when butchered. So, here I am without any real savings, chewing away to swallow my dry, dead chicken that tasted from a hint of lemon and I didn't even have a pie!

There, their heinous secret is out!

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Is YOUR Costco, Like MY Costco?

First, my thanks to the nice people in New Orleans and Youngstown, Louisiana for their repeated attendance in reading this old unattended blog of mine. Not too many people are as faithful.

Today's post is more of a rant about people that displease me. Costco in Scottsdale is a great place to find them. It started rather quickly, when I first pulled into the parking lot and although pretty busy, I found a parking place that was just across from the handicapped section, right next to a burgundy Lexus that was almost parked straight, but really at almost a 45 degree angle. How rude! I wasn't even curious to find out who scratched it down it's entire length with a key.

It was a beautiful sunny day here in Scottsdale today (about 80) and I wasn't going to let this older driver change my mind. (When I say older, that means older than me, a month short of 68.) wearing my sunglasses and a bounce in my step. The guard, an older woman that has seen me a thousand times before, asked me to show her my membership card and I told her, " I was breaking into this joint, try and stop me!" She smiled and told me to go along and asked some woman behind if she were with me? Evidently, the stranger said yes, as she too kept walking.

I picked up a few staples, eggs, butter and bagels. (I had cream cheese at home) Suddenly, Around the meat counter I ran into a bottle neck, created by a ruthless driver in a motorized chair, supplied by Costco. Everyone was somewhat frustrated by this woman that stopped right in the middle of the isle and no one could pass from either direction. On my left, passing on the wrong side of the isle and willing to run down anyone in her path, a woman about 55 went shooting through. Throwing caution to the wind, I got on her tail, floored it and followed. Suddenly, she slammed on the cart breaks and stopped to talk to a woman that she knew, leaving me almost rear ending her. (She never even knew it). As I was passing her, she must have had enough of her friend and pulled out without using a signal or even looking and crashed right into me! Fortunately no one was hurt. I shook my finger at her and said, "You didn't even signal"! She replied, I don't have to, I was just going straight!" Crisis averted, I pulled out... but still thinking I should have asked her for her license, insurance and registration!

I know how to make lemon chicken. It's a fact. I use olive oil and lemon juice and most of the spices from the bottom shelf (omitting nutmeg) at my old house. Since my former roommate stole everything that wasn't nailed down, I no longer have any of my spices or pots and pans for marinating, so I figured if I bought those one gallon plastic freezer bags with the zip top, that should suffice. Being that I was at Costco, I wound up with 75 of them. Now all I need is someone to take my extra 74 and give me back my $11.

I was out of water so I did manage to buy 3 cases of 40 bottles each, so instantly my cart got pretty heavy. I checked out and when I got to the ladies that check to see if you stole anything at the front door, I realized that I had wanted to buy one of their frozen pizzas. I think they cost about 9 bucks but really pretty good. The lady at the door offered to watch my stuff, but between you and me, I think she had her eye on my butter! In addition to not trusting her, I didn't think a frozen pizza was worth going through the check out line again, so I just left.

As I walked to my car, that was in the perfect parking place, (except for the Lexus that was still there all cock-eyed). I tried to put the water into my trunk but driving a Volvo convertible, I sacrifice trunk space for the convertible top. So I walked to the side of the car and opened my passenger door ever-so-slowly, so as not to hit the stupid Lexus, that was parked well into my spot. I walked back to my cart and lifted the 45 lbs of water and approached my side door. Just then, this old woman comes limping up carrying an 18 pack of eggs and says she'd like to get into her car. In other words, she was way more important than me, a man carrying a case of water. I couldn't help myself, I told her that if she parked like a normal person, we wouldn't be having this talk! I walked the water back to my cart and closed my door for her not to be inconvenienced. I think it was then that I thought of all the things I should have said! She then backed out of the parking place and I noticed that she didn't move. I thought maybe a heart attack, (this woman was over 80), as traffic began getting irritated and honking. I looked into her car though her windshield and there she was reapplying her lipstick!