The Goose of Christmas Repast

If you read this drivel of mine, you know that we celebrate Thanksgiving regularly in Texas and co-host a Borgasmord locally each Christmas. The Borgasmord usually takes place within a day or two of Christmas itself and is SO food-centric that we forgo a typical Christmas meal and make do with left-overs from the Borg.

(Christmas Eve is almost always tamales and beans cuz, well....., that's how we roll..... )

Now this year is going to be an exception because the Borg is being held a week early to accommodate a vital attendee's holiday schedule and really, it would NOT be a party without her. As such, that means the left-overs (if any. Last year, they were thin to say the most)(not a complaint! This only means we either didn't make enough or the guests were really tapping into their inner-Swede) will probably not last another 7 days in the fridge. What to do, what to do?

John hit on the idea of a Christmas Goose. How delightful! I've never had goose in my long(ish) life and have images of a Victorian groaning table. The roast goose surrounded by casseroles and brussell sprouts, jellies and aspics and the like. Holly and Ivy. Lots of velvet attire.... a lute lilting in the background..

So off we went in search of a goose. You don't find these languishing in the butcher's case down here in the South. I don't know what you find up north or out west. I think they may be more popular elsewhere.

Here, in the deep and sacred south of I-10, a Turducken is fairly well-eaten. The turkey is always welcomed, especially if it's been fried in peanut oil. Even duck is common and the remains tossed in a gumbo with andouille sausage. But not the goose. Which is strange, considering we have around a million of the blasted birds loitering around ponds and golf courses, making a nuisance of themselves.

John's first stab, last week, was at Rouse's: a local chain of groceries and very fine purveyor of gourmet items and all things Louisiana. To the meat counter he went and asked the fellow behind it if they had goose coming for Christmas. (Start early. Never leave this quests to the last minute).

"Goose!?"

"Yeah, .... we were thinking of roasting one for Christmas......"

"No. We don't carry goose."

"Really!? It's a traditional Christmas dinner..."

"Not since Dickens"

I thought that was pretty funny.... but, now the challenge was upon us and we met it with gusto. I imagine Whole Foods carries goose but the nearest one is either Baton Rouge or New Orleans and I don't see myself going to that length.

(Actually, the nearest geese are about 2 miles away, milling around a pond but I also don't see myself poaching a Canadian and plucking feathers anymore than I see myself wring a rooster's neck)

So Monday, we set off to The Fresh Market, a very up-scale market in Mandeville. So up-scale, they use dim lights and dark ceilings. It's like shopping in a cave. Everyone whispers when they speak. The baskets and carts are all small. But the selection is incredible. So are the prices. We learned.

The man behind the meat counter told us they expected a shipment of geese next week but they didn't have any at that moment. I asked if we could put our name on one as a reserve. No problem at all. He brings out a pad, makes the appropriate notations, gets my name and phone numbers and tells us he'll call when they arrive. Then he rips off the duplicate copy and emphasizes that we MUST bring this paper when we retrieve the bird. No tickie, no taco! OKAY!

On the ride home, John reminds me that this is all out of a Sherlock Holmes story and when we get back to the house, he gets the tome out for me to reread. I know I read it once and really don't remember the gist of the sitch so I tell him I'll read it again. Haven't yet. Haven't stopped moving long enough to read.

Then suddenly, yesterday, not 2 days after we placed the hold on the goose, we get a phone call from the Fresh Market informing us that the geese flew in! I asked if he could leave it tagged in the freezer for us til I get off work Thursday. No problem again, but "Don't forget to bring the receipt we gave you when you placed the order."

They really do take this seriously! John overheard the phone conversation and said, "Let's go!"

"But I can pick it up tomorrow after work. Save the gas..."

"Let's go!"

So we went. Fresh Market is about 18 miles from where we live and this gave us time to Google cooking tips in preparation of the roasting of said goose. Jaques Pepin, my go-to guy (read; chef extraordinaire) goes into good detail about lifting the skin away from the flesh and steaming the bird the day prior to roasting. All this is toward a less greasy meal. (remember this... more to come)

We discussed the various potential side dishes and as the sprouts are not ready in the garden, they are off the menu. We settled on sweet potatoes, wild rice and a salad. Simple.

When we got to the shop, we were bouncing with excitement and took a small cart over to the meat counter, flourished the recipe (they were serious. No bird without the receipt. Mind you, we had NOT PAID for it at this point but we still need the passport. So there we were and a lady sidled up and asked, "Did you say 'goose'?"

Which launched another memorable conversation in a grocery store with a total stranger! She was from Germany, though she sounded from Chalmette, and lived on the other side fof the Pearl River. She told us how she made roast goose with seasoning she "brought back from Germany" and that's how we found out from where she hailed. I swear, when she said "New Orleans" it came out, "NuAwlens" so I was completely baffled until we learned a little more of her life history.

Anyway, she said they prepared their goose the same as Pepin except she stuffed hers with apples and that mysterious German spice (which she didn't know the name in English) and used that broth to baste to the skin during the final 20 minutes of roasting.

And now she was curious how much it cost, this goose of ours. I blanched when I saw the sticker, told her, and she replied, "Oh, I saw one here lsat year that was $110.00. But it was a French Goose....."like that explained something inexplicable.

At least it made this one look cheap.

About 15 minutes into the ride home, I said," At this price, we better NOT mess it up!"

John, " I was just thinking the same thing!"

Well. That's a Shame

I love(d) the Olive Garden. I would go whenever feasible. I gave gift cards for this chain. I was thrilled when a branch finally opened within 20 miles of us just a few months ago!

And today, I read that in it's questionable wisdom, displaying the AMERICAN FLAG was deemed as potentially "disruptive" to SOME of it's diners and therefore DENIED to a group of Alabama Kiwanas members as they were preparing for a meeting/dinner.

Okay. Don't believe me (and why should you.... it does sound far-fetched) go here:

So,the possibility of a couple of people in ALABAMA being upset and whining or leaving in a fit was more aggravating than accommodating a large group of Kiwanas and EVERYBODY ELSE IN AMERICA that learns about it.

Okay. So, spread the word. And I hope enough people enjoy dining out anywhere else other than the Olive Garden, where "When You Are Here, You're Family*"... *unless you're an American who flies freely the very symbol of her existence.... then you are SOL.

Or better yet...... let's ALL GO and WEAR the American Flag. Then what are they going to do? Ask us to leave?

Midsomer Murders

I have Netflix as streaming video beside the machine as I sew and have been filling up on the British mystery series, Midsomer Murders.

Now this may be old-hat to most of you but with me I am always invariably late to the prom. I started watching Seinfeld and Friends and Everybody Loves Raymond, big hits back in their day, when they had about one season left to run. Always years behind everyone else, that's me.

So this Midsomer murders was very novel a few weeks ago when I stumbled across it. Great fun. DCI Barnaby is married to a most understanding wife who fills her days as a volunteer, shows up at every costumed "town event" and gets wrapped up in a few of the murders. Their only daughter, Cully, is an actress perpetually in search of a role and also volunteers throughout the county and remarkably is well informed of the goings on in any deviant village because that week she happens to man the mobile library. Or is working as a temp secretary for a hot-shot, or lands a spot hauling horses around town. And every time Father and Daughter see each other, you'd think they hadn't just had breakfast together that morning ."Cully!" he cries and gives a big hug, kiss on the cheek.

What I liked about it in the beginning was the scenery. All the action takes place in a mythical county in England. The shops and buildings line quaint, slim, curving streets; no-one is ever in a particular hurry; homes are usually either very grand or if not, they are thatched roofed and Tudor-styled. This is what you have heard referred to as "chocolate box"quintessentially English homes (or at the very least the way I think of as English) . Nothing is out of place, no mess or garbage bins. Lovely flowers. Trimmed hedges. Get the picture? Even cars are new. And washed.

Oh!, and all the people who live here are white, over 40, and can't stop killing each other. There is usually someone(s) terribly rich and "above" it all (or better yet, titled), the middle-class and finally those who live on the fringes of 'society'. And don't believe for a moment that any of them wouldn't kill to get what they want.

Now, the county may be Midsomer but the towns in the county have lovely evocative names: Midsomer Mallow, Midsomer Newton, Fletcher's Cross and the popular Badger's Drift. Wouldn't you want to be murdered somewhere named Badger's Drift?

Here is where it gets interesting. The murders are done in the most amazing techniques. Far be it for anyone in Midsomer to simply slit a throat or push an old lady down a flight of stairs. Oh wait... they did do that as well.

No, here in Midsomer, a terrific method for murder would be to drug your victim first, then tether him down to the ground with croquet wickets (naturally) and lob wine bottles at him with a medieval catapult. Ingenious! I would never have imagined THAT!

Or, if that takes too much planning, how about ramming a pitchfork through a chair? Drown someone in a cauldron of tomato soup? I especially didn't picture this one aged Russian (female) spy who knew some fancy jujitsu moves. (Note to self: never, ever, sneak up on an old lady in Midsomer Worthy).

And this one: Smash a man with a forklift full of bottled chutney, then scald him in the 200 degree bath to clean him up.

Once the first murder has been discovered and Detective Chief Inspector Barnaby shows up to take statements, the murderer's associates start dropping like flies! I mean, if you lived anywhere in Midsomer and someone turns up murdered, you better leave town because no one is safe! Pretty soon, there aren't going be many people to kill at the rate they're going!

His 'second', Deputy Inspector fill-in-the-blank, is usually a few steps behind this weathered master of all that is inscrutable. Barnaby's on the case, you're days of freedom are numbered!

I sound snarky but I do enjoy these episodes. Mostly because I never know what's going to happen next and can't guess who the true villan will be in the end. That, and the fact that each episode is approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes.

Oh! Gotta go... another one just queued up!

Come Up To The Lab...

You'd think by the end of this post that jogging was my latest obsession but you would be wrong... however:

I wanted to write about something I discovered this morning and yeah, "there's (apparently) an App for that!" There's an app for everything!

I wondered yesterday how far I had plogged and thought it would be great if I had a map of my location and the various routes I take..... I have lived here for 2 years now but still get lost in my own subdivision. I don't have horse-sense when it comes to cardinal direction and might see something for a land marker 20 times and still find it to be a Eureka moment.... "I didn't know there was a pond there!!"

So, I thought, I ought to map it out for future reference and see how far I have been going on the various routes.

Here is the site: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/

and if you click the Start Recording button, you will get an accurate measure of your distance.

Pretty slick, I would also like to announce, ahem.... I have plogging farther than I realized. whoo hoo indeed.

Do I Have This Right?

I have not followed this Casey Anthony trial at all but am a little perplexed. The verdict:

THE VERDICT

Anthony faced seven charges

First-degree murder NOT GUILTY

Aggravated child abuse NOT GUILTY

Aggravated manslaughter of a child NOT GUILTY

Four counts of providing false information to a law enforcement officer:

-That she worked at Universal Orlando in 2008 GUILTY
-That she left Caylee with a babysitter named Zenaida Fernandez Gonzalez GUILTY
-That she told Jeffrey Hopkins and Juliette Lewis that Caylee was missing GUILTY
-That she received a phone call from Caylee on July 15 2008 GUILTY

Mr Huekler added that he and the jury only saw evidence that Anthony was a good mother.

'The first number of witnesses were Casey's friend and every time that they said they saw Casey with Caylee, it was a loving relationship and no one provided evidence to the contrary,' Mr Huekler said.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2011857/Casey-Anthony-trial-verdict-Parents-face-death-threats.html#ixzz1RMIeHMwF

So she lied about her job. She lied about a baby sitter. She lied about declaring her child missing and she lied about a non-existent phone call from her daughter. All those lies went to law enforcement.

Now, she also lied to her parents for one month about her daughter's whereabouts. But you can't pin that against her.....I don't know why not... but there it apparently is.

And she's a "good mother."

She participated in a Hot Body contest at a bar 4 days after her daughter supposedly drowned. and she's a "good mother".

So they found she is a terrible liar, a good mother and had nothing to do with her daughter's death. Nothing at all. Not a single solitary shred of complicity.

She lied for an alibi but had nothing to do with a crime. Got it.

Have You Seen This?

Oh PLEAZEEEEE watch this:

HAHAHAHAhahahahaha

I love cats.... especially when they get caught out!

Bark Bark Bark BARK BARK COugh ark mark.. meow meow mewwwww

Laying the Groundwork?

She said at a fund-raiser in California on Monday:

First lady Michelle Obama on Monday told a fundraiser in Southern California of the toll the presidency has taken on her husband Barack Obama.

"I see the sadness and worry that's creasing his face," she said to a crowd of about 500 at the Pasadena luncheon organized by the Southern California Women For Obama. She described his worth ethic as “tireless,” according to pool reports.

"He reads every word, every memo, so he is better prepared than the people briefing him," she said. "This man doesn't take a day off."

She said the next two years of campaigning would be difficult for the Obamas and their supporters. "It is not going to be easy, and it is going to be long," she said. "Now more than ever we need your help to finish what we started."

And he said in an interview in Miami Tuesday morning:

President Barack Obama says his wife and daughters aren't "invested" in him being president and would have been fine had he decided against running for re-election. But he says they believe in what he's doing for the country.
Asked about his family's reaction to his wanting another term, Obama said: "Michelle and the kids are wonderful in that if I said, `You know, guys, I want to do something different,' They'd be fine. They're not invested in daddy being president or my husband being president."
He says first lady Michelle Obama would be the first one to encourage him to do something "a little less stressful" if she no longer thought that what they were doing was worthwhile for the country.

Is this a trial balloon? Is President Obama going to bow out of the 2012 election?