Plastic Porkbone

Turning Midwestern

Well, it's official.

We moved here to Western Wisconsin a little over three years ago.  To the casual outside observer, we would be considered citizens of Wisconsin.  Or at least residents of the Midwest.  However, deep down, we knew we were not. 

Why?

Did we not understand how to speak Minnesotan?  Did we not follow the retarded Midwestern driving habits, such as "tailgate in the left lane until the guy moves over" or "prove to everyone how Minnesota Nice you are by blocking the open lane on the freeway?"  Or did we not know the joys of the "pancake feed" or the "pea soup feed" or the "Friday night Fish Fry?"

No, we know all of those things.  Our dirty little secret was this:  We did not own a Crockpot. 

Yes, this is the land of the free, the home of the brave.  And around here, the brave eat "hotdish."  In most areas of the country this is referred to as "casserole" but around here you wear the word "casserole" like a giant baseball cap that says "out-of-towner."  So it's hotdish.

HOTDISH:
Hotdish is made one of two ways: in a 9" by 13" baking dish, or in a Crockpot.  The ingredients are generally a combination of the following (pick three or four):

• Cream of Mushroom soup
• Red spaghetti sauce
• Noodles
• Meat (probably ground beef)
• Cheese
• Tater Tots
• Green Beans

The beauty of the hotdish concept is that all you do is throw everything in your Crockpot (or your baking dish) and in an hour it will be finished.  That's it.  Cleanup is one baking dish, and whatever else you're eating on.  Sure you are left with a bland meal every time, but that's not the point.

So anyway, most people who live here have not one, but a minimum of TWO Crockpots.  This is because when you get married in the Midwest, you usually get at least three.  Most people have one nice one, and a crappy one you use to bring hotdish to your church or work potlucks.  Well a while back my mother-in-law bought us a Crockpot, probably as a joke.  Because we live in the Midwest now.  Well yesterday, I used it.

Yes, I used the Crockpot.  Sure, I made homemade spaghetti sauce with fresh vegetables and herbs, and there were no noodles or tater tots or green beans or cream of mushroom soup... but the point is we own a Crockpot, and we have used it.  Which means even though we aren't from here, we can at least say to someone, "you can borrow my Crockpot if you want to bring that hotdish to the potluck."

Obligatory Turkey-Related Post

Yes, it's Thanksgiving.  Let us all give thanks for whatever and eat tons of food until we feel somewhat ill.  After the feeling ill, let us eat more things until we pass out.  Thanksgiving!

This year we will have four people at the "big feast."  That would be myself, Irene, Alison, and our friend Andrew.  Sure, Alison won't have much turkey but she will be having some sweet potatoes.  Out of a jar.  And some milk.

I'm brining the turkey this time, too.  I have talked about it for years, and this time I actually made enough room in the fridge to pull it off.  But really, the Thanksgiving feast for me is all about the turkey sandwiches.  That's why we bought a 55-pound turkey.  Actually it's only 14 pounds, but it's free range turkey, which means they theoretically could have let the turkey go outside, but they probably didn't.  I had to buy it at a special store and it was more expensive than the Butterball steroids-turkey, but less than the fully organic turkey.  Either way it's not pumped full of drugs and more than likely, this bird could stand up when it was alive.

Hey, you know a really good topic for the Thanksgiving feast?  Bird flu.

Anyway, we are used to having small thanksgiving-day dinners.  In 1997 we moved away from Seattle, and ever since it has been a lonely occasion.  For a couple years we visited some of Irene's family here in Wisconsin, but otherwise four people is actually above average for us.  Sure, you miss family, but let's face it: not all family is good, especially when they're all together.  Just ask my mom.

So is it just another day?  Sort of, for us... it's a day off from work, with food, and football, and it's the first of many Thanksgivings for Alison, who doesn't yet care.  And does the fact that there will only be 3 adults here change the fact that we made two pies?  No, certainly not.

Oh No

I can't even say it.

All Meat!

Took this scary picture with my phone at the grocery store.  I think there are two funny things about this sign.  First of all it indicates that the franks are "all meat."  Second, they were honest enough to use quotes around "all meat" because they understand that the term "meat" is being used loosely here...

Waist Line of Death

I have to admit: I have been in denial for the past few weeks.  No, months.  The problem is, I have gained some weight.  How much weight?  Enough weight that I am at that crucial crossroads: either go out and buy bigger pants, or lose the goddamn weight.  And I am in no financial position to go buy a new wardrobe.

How did this happen?  Well, I blame pregnancy.  Obviously I wasn't the pregnant one, but I gained weight like I was.  All the books say to eat a full, balanced meal... so we started doing that.  Every day we had a full meal, with a vegetable and a starch and protein, etc..  The problem is, I am not accustomed to eating "right."  I often cook nice meals, but other nights I have been known to eat popcorn for dinner.  Or nothing at all. 

That doesn't fly anymore. 

So here I am, trying to convince myself that I need to wake up an hour earlier (sleep is such a precious thing already!) just to exercise before work.  And no more ice cream?  Motherfucker.  Someone send me a $300 gift card for JCPenney so I can avoid this horrible fate!

Tastes Like Ass

I know I'm not the first person to say this, so I'll keep it short.  The other day I bought some DORITOS at the store.  Nothing fancy, mind you, just the regular old "Nacho Cheese" variety.  Well, actually I bought the chips-formerly-known-as-Nacho-Cheese variety.  They were renamed to "Nacho Cheesier" about 11 years ago, which annoyed me at the time... and now the bag says "NOW Better Tasting!!" 

"Okay," I thought, maybe they have gone back to the regular "Nacho Cheese" flavor I loved so much back in the day.  As it turns out, they did not.  They have somehow screwed with the formula even more now, such that the chips have a slightly spicy aftertaste, and no longer taste much like cheese.  I personally do NOT think they are better tasting!  If I want spicy chips, I will buy your spicy chips!

Is it too much to ask Frito Lay to stop messing with things?  All I want are some simple nacho chips!  Enough with the EXTREME flavors already!!

Cook up some SMACK

Well, as most everyone already knows by now, we had a baby on Thursday.  Of course, now it's Monday and everything since her birth has been a blur.  I feel like I should post something.  So, here I am.  Be prepared for a really exciting post.

Actually, I went shopping today.  I came accross my new favorite product, and thought I should blog about it.  I don't buy it, but I laugh every time I see it.  If you don't have this in your area, this is basically ghetto-ramen.  It's called SMACK.  I don't know, maybe it's not funny.

I also saw that Pepperidge Farm has a new flavor of Goldfish crackers: "Slime Blasted." First green ketchup, now slimy crackers.  Now I think I have seen everything.  Generally, unless it grows out of the ground in some way, I am not in favor of green foods.  Same with blue foods.  Just something unnatural about it.

Now if you will excuse me, I've gotta go cook up some SMACK and watch the baby.

Ruby Restaurant, Seattle

In the U-District of Seattle, there is a little place called Ruby Restaurant.  My good friend Stace just had a pretty bad experience there.  If you want to see her story, you can read it yourself. 

EDIT:

Stace was able to talk to the manager and they refunded her the money she was overcharged.  So all trash-talking verbiage from this post has been removed.  Let this be a lesson to anyone who gets poor customer service: DEMAND BETTER! 

MMM... Peanut Butter

I have an unhealthy addiction to one particular product: Adams peanut butter.  Okay, maybe it's not an addiction, so much as a refusal to buy any other peanut butter product.  Simply put, it is the finest peanut butter known to man, and all other products (especially white trash PB like Jif, Sunny Jim, and Skippy) can kiss my ass.

If you live in the Northwest, you know that Adams peanut butter is everywhere.  This is because it was originally a Northwest product, and the company has since been purchased by Smuckers.  Well, as far east as Colorado you can find it in your neighborhood grocery store... but not here!  Instead, Smuckers has decided to market their own "Natural" peanut butter, which tastes more like burnt peanuts.  And I keep looking for a place to buy this stuff online, but for some reason I keep striking out.

So, every time we visit Colorado or Washington we make a point to pick up some of this peanut butter (last time we bought 5 or 6 jars, I think).  The problem is, we are running out again.  So we are asking all of our family members who wish to visit the baby this summer, please bring with you a few jars of the Adams tasty goodness.  But make sure it's CRUNCHY!

Before I go, I just thought I would share a funny forum post from a Vegan website I found.  I stumbled across this today as I was searching for Adams Peanut Butter... I just think it's funny as hell:

"you dont want to eat all that other shit and crap that they put into those none natural shit and crapy peanut butters. natural peanut butter taste better anyways!"

I couldn't have said it better myself!

Meat and Religious Extremists

By the way, if you really like to eat beef, especially hamburgers, it goes without saying you should not read Fast Food Nation by Eric Schlosser.  I have been reading this book out of morbid curiosity, and because I thoroughly enjoyed the documentary Super Size Me.  I have to admit, the book is thrilling, yet horrifying at the same time.

One really cool part about the book, however, is where it explains why Colorado Springs is so messed up.  If you have ever spent any time in "the Springs," you have sensed it.  The strangeness all around you.  Well, thanks to Mr. Schlosser, I now understand it.