Buttermilk Pancakes

The Best Darn Buttermilk Pancakes you’ll ever make or eat.

Makes about 8-8″ pancakes or about 16-4″ pancakes.

  • 2 cups all purpose flour
  • 2 tablespoons sugar
  • 1 teaspoon baking power
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 cups of buttermilk
  • 1/4 cup of sour cream
  • 2 eggs
  • 3 tablespoons of butter melted, cooled slightly
  • Vegetable oil for frying pan
  1. In a bowl mix the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together to incorporate.
  2. In a second bowl mix together the buttermilk, sour cream, eggs and melted but not hot butter until combined.
  3. Combine the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients in bowl 1. Stir until combined. Batter will be lumpy, do not worry. Let batter sit on counter for about 10-15 minutes. The wet ingredients will hydrate the dry ingredients in this time. Secondly the leavening properties of the backing soda and power will kick into gear. Notice small bubbles in batter.
  4. Heat a non-stick or a finely tuned cast iron frying pan over medium heat. Pour about a tablespoon of vegetable oil in the pan. Take a couple clean wadded up paper towels and wipe the oil around in the frying pan. You want just a slight oily film in the hot pan.
  5. Check batter. It should still be thick but just loose enough to scoop and pour with a ladle or measuring cup. If batter is still a little thick add a tablespoon or two of additional buttermilk and stir to combine.
  6. Make a decision. Big or small pancakes. I go for the bigger ones myself. I am a pancake pig, about 8 inches across. I hate trying to flip a bunch of pancakes in the same frying pan. So I pour in about a 1/3-1/2 cup of batter into the pan. You want smaller pancakes decrease the batter to about 1/4 cup.
  7. Shake pan on stove slightly when you pour in the batter, it will move and flow out into the traditional round shape.
  8. Pay attention here. This is where I screw up all the time. Pancakes cook fast! You have a small window of opportunity to catch a pancake between perfect and burnt shit. Pay particular attention if using cast iron. When you pour the batter into the pan and shake the pan to flow the pancake batter into the round circle, you have about a minute to a minute and twenty seconds. You will notice the bubbles on the top of the batter appear. The outside diameter of the pancake will start to dry. Get your spatula under that pancake and loosen it from the pan and flip. You will think to yourself the center of the top of the pancake is still wet and very few bubbles it cant be ready to turn. Ignore those thoughts and logic, you’re almost too late and on your way to burnt pancakes. I make the mistake all the time. Its tricky but you’ll overcome this and get the hang of it.
  9. When the pancake is turned you have even less time. The second side of the pancake cooks even faster. You have about 30-45 seconds here.
  10. Take same paper towel you used earlier and re-wipe out the frying pan and re-coat with vegetable oil. There is probably enough oil on the paper towel from the first time you wiped the pan out so you may not need to add more. You just want a slight film of oil in pan.
  11. Repeat steps 6 to 10 and keep making pancakes till the batter is gone.

Don’t be discouraged if he first pancake is a little more done then you like. The first pancake is always a test. Your next pancakes in the batch get better and better. Everyone knows the first pancake is always for the dog anyway. Right?

You can hold the pancakes on a plate in the microwave while you cook the entire batch, or  on an oven safe plate in the oven turned to its lowest setting to keep the pancakes warm while you cook the batch or wait to eat.

These pancakes will beat anything you buy in the store that comes in a box or a plastic jug you add milk to and shake. I promise.

They are a little tricky at first they cook fast. You will get the hang of these pancakes though. Super simple.

Guys pay attention here. You screwed up, forgot her birthday, bought her a vacuum for Valentines day, told your girl she was turning into her mother. You get your ass up early and make your woman a batch of these pancakes on a Sunday or while she is still asleep. You will get that boys weekend in Vegas and the new Harley. Serious. If you make these for your girl, you have punk card credit in the bank. Granted its not a happy ending from the bimbo at the strip club get out of jail free but this gets you out of washing her car on Sunday football all season. Do it. She deserves it.

 

A Thirsty Thursday, What No Bacon?!

Buttermilk pancakes for dinner? Sure why not.

Wait I got no bacon. Oh crap!

This week theres been some reporting in the news that there may be a bacon shortage next year. I know, take a breath, there you go, in…out….in…out. Calm now? I panicked too when I first heard the reports. Lets face it, a world without bacon just isn’t worth living. Think about it for a moment. Lines at the grocery store. Bacon rationing. Underground bacon black markets. People rioting around Waffle Houses and Ihops for bacon. Bacon pandemonium. Perpetual darkness. Hail and brimstone! Without bacon there is no life!

Turns out the reports may be exaggerated a bit. Seems to revolve around the drought we had this year and the corn supply. See pigs eat corn. Corn costs money. Less corn, for more money and the pigs are thin or not being replaced/bred to the same numbers. Since bacon is a commodity its still very much an issue of supply and demand. Experts say the supply wont be effected that much but the prices will be going up (like everything else) but there will be bacon. Thank Jesus H. tap dancing Christ!

In other news:

The NFL’s normal union referees have reached an agreement with the NFL for the next four years. In a way I am glad. This takes away any chance of abortion like we saw this past week with Green Bay and Seattle.

On the other hand, generally speaking I am not pro union in most all but a very few cases. Don’t get me wrong. I see the need for the unions. I understand their past and how they came to be. However, in many years all the unions have done is become the same greedy behemoth monsters they supposedly set out to protect the workers from in the first place. Unions do not protect shit anymore. If you have a skill and worth, you should be able to enter any market and get paid fairly for it. As an industry if you need specific labor you should be able to pull from the market any level of skill and pay honestly for it at will.

So I think its officially fall. Here in Florida we have two seasons, hot and wet. Anyway, I remember fall from my childhood living in the north. I miss fall. Fall is candy corn. My grandmother always and if I had to bet even right this very second has a little crystal glass dish on a hutch in her dinning room full of candy corn. Granted the candy corn is probably thirteen years old right now (her memory is starting to go) but I bet there is some there.

Speaking of candy corn. I want!

You know I just realized, between these special candy corn Oreos and the Oreo cake earlier this month I am becoming a regular shill for Oreos. Screw it, I like them.

Uncle Chet WWII Marine Corps Aviator

In a new department of the What’s Up Brock empire “Podcasts” I introduce you to my Grandfather’s brother Chester Nixon. Uncle Chet as the family has come to call him, is a rather unique individual. Actually he’s a hard charging Mo-Fo of the Marine Corps Aviator variety. Yes World War II, Pappy Boyington, F4U Corsair era.

Below are a few Podcasts I created from some audio recordings Uncle Chet made a few years back. When you click the links you’ll be taken to a new window or tab in your browser and an imbedded audio player will play the file. You certainly can save the Mp3 for your future listening pleasure as well. If something doesn’t work for you, leave a comment below, and I’ll try and get a fix or help you. I tested all day and it seems to work though.

In any regard, I should prepare some narration as the recordings aren’t HiFi and secondly Uncle Chet while still sharp as a tack and a bad ass, is getting up in years. Some of Uncle Chet’s commentary is a little disjointed.

Uncle Chet created these audio recordings at the requests of my two uncles when their father (my grandfather, Chet’s brother) passed away some years ago to preserve some interesting family history. Uncle Chet’s narrative as you’ll soon hear is from the perspective of uncle to nephews regarding certain family history and his flying experiences.

I have attached pictures of some of the aircraft Uncle Chet talks about to give you an idea what he was flying and have clarified some key points of his narrative.

Uncle Chet grew up in New York. The story starts there with his first plane ride from a barn stormer. Uncle Chet used to herd sheep, when he herded some sheep on a piece of land that didn’t belong to him, he “may have represented” to a bi-plane pilot that it was ok to use the land to fly the plane in and out of the area in exchange for a free ride. ūüėČ

Uncle Chet goes on to detail his Naval aviation training, going into Marine aviation, having an instructor in another plane collide with him over the Gulf of Mexico and bailing out. He then details getting married, traveling across the country to California, then heading to the South Pacific as a Marine Corps pilot during World War II.

SBC

F4F

TBF

During World War II Uncle Chet flew with Marine Attack Squadron VMF321 which was commanded by Major Eddie Overend. Major Overend flew with the Flying Tigers in China before America entered World War II with the famous Greg (Pappy) Boyington. (Interesting note here, I went to Marine Corps bootcamp at Parris Island, SC. with the great grandson of Pappy Boyington….We Marines are an elite bunch!) Major Overend was credited with 5.5 Jap kills while with the Flying Tigers, then when he took command of VMF 321 when America entered the war was credited with another 3.5 kills. Overend was an Ace and recieved the Distinguished Flying Cross.

USS Kwajalein

Grumman Duck

 

Maj Overend CO of VMF321

F4U Corsair “Whistling Death”

 

Uncle Chet then transfers to VMF 225 for a few months. He moves up in rank and discusses his duties while assigned to VMF 225.

When Uncle Chet rotates back to the states (late 1944-early 1945), he discusses how he was assigned to some training squadrons in Florida to get new pilots ready for the eventual invasion of mainland Japan.

The war ends, Uncle Chet goes into the reserves, Korean War starts, Uncle Chet’s eyes get problems and he eventually resigns is Marine Corps commission when his flight status becomes a question.

From here Uncle Chet discusses his life and years of flying post World War II up until the time he stops flying when he gets into his seventies and his health starts failing.

I post these in honor of my family and Uncle Chet’s interesting life. Every family has these kinds of stories and history and as these men and woman get older and die a lot of the history that made this country great is being lost. Here it lives forever. My advice to anyone, get with your family members and get this history recorded some way. When they’re gone its too late.

Uncle Chet WWII #1

Uncle Chet WWII #2

A feel good Monday. You want to read this one.

We all know the routine. Back to work Mondays and how they suck. Weekend goes by too fast. Etcetera Etcetera.

Today however, I am going to bring your attention to something. This should make you forget for a minute how bad we dread Mondays.

Most of you should have seen this by now. If you haven’t then take a look see. This collection of photos Titled “A Love Story in 22 Pictures” has been and continues to accelerate to warp factor viral.

A Love Story in 22 Pictures

Taylor Morris was is a Navy EOD technician. In January of this year he deployed to Afghanistan. In May, while performing his duties the worst thing an EOD tech can possibly think about happened. When I was in the Marine Corps I had the chance to work with a few Marine Corps EOD techs. (We have them too). I can tell you it takes a special breed of man to do that particular job. I should probably back up and explain what an EOD technician actually is for the common reader. EOD stands for Explosive Ordinance Disposal. Taylor’s job was to run around Afghanistan and diffuse bombs, booby traps, roadside improvised bombs and traps. In May of this year, one got him. As you can see from the above pictures, Taylor went in harms way for his country, (me and you) and for doing so his bill came to both his legs, his arm, and his hand.

Brock what is special about Taylor? Unfortunately Taylor isn’t the first to pay such a debt. Taylor also hasn’t paid the ultimate debt as others before him and others after him have had to pay.

I’ll tell you what is special about Taylor to me. Meet Danielle.

 

 

 

 

 

Danielle is Taylor’s girlfriend.

I don’t know everything about everything. I do know a little bit about some things. This right here folks is pure unadulterated one of a kind true honest to god love. Plain and simple. I can tell you from a personal perspective as one who has gone in harms way like Taylor the fears of getting hurt or maimed. I can tell you about the fears of putting those stresses on your loved ones and family. I could tell you about friends of mine getting hurt while in harms way during service to our country and seeing the stresses it puts on loved ones and families and watching relationships fail. Not today. Today I show you what real love is.

Did anyone do the math yet? Taylor was only injured in May of this year. FOUR months. By the way, Taylor and Danielle went home to Iowa for a friends wedding recently.


Semper Fidelis Taylor and Danielle.

If you want to learn more about Taylor and Danielle you can check out his site at:

Taylor Morris Story

Facebook page:

Taylor Morris Facebook page

There are lots of guys and some girls that went into combat and paid the ultimate price. There’s even more that paid with a part of their body much like Taylor has. What the press rarely shows or tells us about is the price the family and loved ones pay. Danielle is a special woman and I’ll forever be thankful and jealous of Taylor.

Everything has a price. Whether one can quantify it or not I think is up to the individual. The love Danielle must have for Taylor? I can’t answer that and only speculate. I can however tell you what I would happily give for that love if I ever find it. Can you?

Mondays suck. This one, not so much. Thank you Taylor and Danielle.

 

Monster Meatloaf

 

The best damn meatloaf you ever ate or made right here. Adapted from Cooks Illustrated.

  • 2 Tablespoons butter
  • 1 onion chopped fine
  • 1 pint white mushrooms sliced
  • 1 tablespoon tomato paste
  • 3 tablespoons plus 1/2 cup of low sodium chicken stock
  • 2 garlic cloves minced
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 tablespoons of soy sauce
  • 1 tablespoon unflavored powered gelatin
  • 1 1/2 slice of white bread
  • Bunch of fresh parsley
  • 2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
  • 3/4 teaspoon pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
  • 1 pound ground pork
  • 1 pound of ground beef (chuck)

 

There are probably a thousand recipes for meatloaf. Everyone has their favorite. I think the whole point of meatloaf is just throwing together some ground meat, and every other thing you may have in the fridge and its meatloaf.

Have you ever had good meatloaf? I mean damn good. Not dried out, bland drywall flavored crap to carry catchup to your mouth. Well take it from me this is damn good meatloaf. Tastes like meat, not dried out or tough. Takes a little more work but worth it.

 

 

 

 

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.

Get your miss en place ready.  Sliced mushrooms, chopped onion, minced garlic, Chicken stock.

Over Medium heat, melt the butter and add the mushrooms and onion. Sauté  for about 12 minutes.

After 12 minutes add the garlic and tomato paste. Stir and cook for another 2 minutes. Add the 2 tablespoons of chicken stock and turn off heat. Stir and scrap up the fond in the pan. Pour the mushrooms off into a bowl to cool for a few minutes.

 

Now, get another bowl and whisk the eggs, soy sauce, and the 1/2 cup of the chicken stock together. Now pour in the powdered gelatin and stir up. Let sit for 5 minutes for gelatin to dissolve.

While you’re waiting for the mushroom mixture to cool and egg/gelatin to dissolve get your pan for the meatloaf ready. If you don’t have a sheet pan and grate for it, use what you have in a similar fashion. (broiler pan) The tin foil is folded in about a 5″X9″ rectangle then with a skewer or fork push holes in the tin foil for the meat to drain while it cooks.

Ok, now were ready to start assembling the meatloaf.

We, should have our dried thyme, mustard, egg/gelatin mixture, mushroom mixture, fresh parsley, and the slice and half bread in processor ground up to fine crumb. If you don’t have a food processor I imagine you can use a blender. Who doesn’t have a food processor? They’re like microwaves right? Everyone has one!

Everything into the food processor with the bread crumbs. Mushroom mixture, egg/gelatin/chicken stock mixture, mustard, thyme, and the leave of the fresh parsley. Fire it up and let it run about  a minute.

This is what you should wind up with. Its rather wet. Don’t be alarmed.

 

 

 

 

Now we combine the mushroom/bread/egg mixture to the meat. Mix the pork and beef and mushroom mixture by hand. It will start off very wet, its ok, keep mixing. Once its all incorporated get your meatloaf pan with the tin foil square you punched holes in.

 

You are going to place and form the meat mixture into a loaf like shape on the tin foil you made on the sheet pan. Or your broiler pan. Like shown.

 

 

Send that masterpiece into the oven. It takes about an hour and a half. You want inside temperature of meatloaf to be about 155 degrees.

Lets make the glaze.

  • 1/2 cup of catchup
  • 1/4 cup cider vinegar
  • 3 tablespoons of brown sugar
  • Dash or two of hot sauce.
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

Combine all the glaze ingredients in a small sauce pan. Over medium heat stir and cook till sugar is dissolved. About 5 minutes.

 

 

 

When meatloaf has reached an internal temperature of 155 degrees about an hour and a half later, turn the broiler on to high.

Brush half the glaze on the meatloaf and place under the broiler for 2-3 minutes until the glaze starts to caramelize and bubble. Brush second half of glaze on meatloaf and back under the broiler again. Another 2-3 minutes and let it bubble and caramelize again.

Remove meatloaf from oven/broiler and let cool down and rest for about 10 to 15 minutes. Slice, serve, eat.

Its damn good, for a meatloaf.

 

 

Friday how I love thee!

It’s another glorious Friday. End of the work week and the Jets play the Dolphins this weekend. The new iPhone 5 is on the shelves, a coffee is next to my hand and there’s a loyal happy dog at my feet. Not bad. Well other then a winning powerball ticket, Kyra Sedgwick for a wife and my own Island nation life is pretty good. (or darn tootin’ for all you Minnesota folk)

Can I ask a question? Thanks. I knew I could.

For any and all new mothers, parents, people with kids, people who know people with kids, people whom have seen little kids, lately I have noticed small babies with what looks like little mitts or glove like things on their hands. What the hell is this all about? What is the purpose of these mittens? These aren’t eskimo kids laying in the snow either. I am talking about normal babies, at home, day care, mall, gas stations, crack dens, brothels, Vegas casino count rooms, designated smoking areas at government taxing agencies. I have noticed small babies and these mittens all over the place.

I admit being single with no children, (well any that I am aware of in this country or access to any support agency that has any legal jurisdiction over my life) that I don’t keep up on the newborn hand care fashion. I looked back at some of my baby pictures to see if I had to wear mittens or gloves, nope none there. So I ask, is this some kind of new eco-moon-bat type movement for new babies to keep them from scratching their asses or picking their noses until some new age or stage of life? What the hell? Someone help me out here and rock the comment section with some knowledge for the out of the know middle aged guy.

This got me to thinking about all the new trends in child rearing as compared to my generation. Look I realize and completely understand that since the birth of time, every generation of people always looks forward or backward with disdain for the next generation as to what one group had to do to get by with in regards to how they were raised. Its natural and normal as we evolve and advance as a race.

However I contend that a lot of the new things we do with children today that we didn’t do when we were kids or our parents were kids is not to the betterment of children or society in general. I think it actually to the detriment of the children and society. I think there is a number of factors in place that have brought about these changes. Economics, society, education are to name a few.

Let me give some examples.

I haven’t seen a child learn to or continue to ride a bicycle without a full DOT class crash helmet on since I am guessing 1990. What the hell is this all about? Did children in 1990 in mass numbers all of a sudden start learning to ride bicycles and through no fault of their own start flinging themselves head first into the pavement, parked cars, fence posts, or other such blunt objects and become brain dead vegetables? What happened? I learned to ride a bike without a helmet. So did my brothers, friends, family, and pretty much everyone I knew. To my knowledge we all survived without major trauma. Now you teach a kid to ride a bicycle without a dork pot on his/her head and family services or some such will show up to beat you with a lead pipe and brand you unfit. What the hell? Do kids make ramps out of trash cans and stolen plywood from construction sites to jump over other kids laying in the street with their bicycles any more?

Sports, Little League, Pop Warner, Soccer, Bowling or any organized competitive function. All the children no matter what are winners. Say what? Yes, I have seen it with my own eyes. There are no more losers. All the children are winners. Christ, there are season ending banquets going on all over the country with trophies being awarded to teams and individuals all they way down to last place. Seriously? I shit you not! Where’s the competition? Where is the spirit of work hard, work your ass off, work as a team and win! Win first place. Win every time. Not only win, but with grace and sportsmanship, win and win big. Make the losing team choke on a blow out. Send them back home thinking their mothers and fathers all failed them and had retards for babies and to never show back up on the cities baseball field, football field, bowling alley, hand ball court, soccer field without permission or risk a beating over by the water pipes.

My father used to come to my Little League games at Sportsman’s park and from the stands ridicule me for striking out. Yelling from the bleachers, “What happened Brock, you should have swung on the 2-1 pitch and drilled that pitching sissy down his throat!” You know what? At first as a kid I was mad and upset that I didn’t do good and make my father proud, then I took more batting practice, and then drilled some hits down pitchers throats and won some games. Golf Gallery, PSL’s finest in 1978. Every game we won, free pizza and soda in the Fort suckers!

Soccer, same thing. Rinse lather repeat. We won and won big. Second place was for suckers and chumps.

Are parents even allowed to speak the word “loser” within a thousand feet of a public athletic facility?

When I was in school and during recess no matter what the activity, softball, baseball, dodge ball, duck duck goose, there was going to be two team captains, and kids were going to be picked for teams. Rule of the land was, if you got picked last it was because you were fat, sucked, dumb, slow, retarded. You lived with it. You didn’t cry. You sucked it ¬†up and you played anyway. Maybe you did good, maybe you did bad, but you where there. You were there a few years later in high school too with your own car, some sweet high school ass, or not, but you were there and learned to adapt and integrate.

Bullying? Bullying has become all of a sudden this nationwide epidemic? Bullshit. Bullying has been going on for generations. The only difference now is all these emo kids that are being raised lazy and think that being winners is a given and automatic are finding out in the real world things don’t work that way and aren’t capable of coping. One post on one of these kids Facebook page calling him a pussy and he’s running to the closet to hang himself with his favorite pink Britney Spears belt his sissified parents convinced him it was ok to wear for show and tell.

In my day, which honestly wasn’t too far back, someone called you out, pushed you, shoved you, took your lunch money, you solved that problem in one of a few ways in which none included telling your parents or a teacher. You solved that shit on your own. You either stood up for yourself and whipped the bully’s ass, or if you couldn’t, then you learned to use your head to diffuse he situation with humor. If none of that worked you fell back on your friendships and personal networking skills to scheme an elaborate plan to have a bunch of friends kick the bully’s ass or set him up for a suspectd crime or auto accident. In any case you overcame and adapted to adverse life situations then you moved forward.

I guess this turned into a rant. I’m sorry. I think about these things from time to time.

To my dog loving readers. Friday fun tip #1. When giving your dog a bath, instead of paying for all those specialty dog shampoos that honestly are nothing special, wash the dog with some of that leftover Axe Body-wash liquid soap crap.

You know you have two or three bottles of that junk in the shower. You know who you are. You read the sexy Madison Ave advertisement in FHM, Mens Health, Esquire magazine with the good looking six pack abs model douche with the hot semi-naked woman licking his neck. Then you saw the crap in the supermarket next to the deodorant and toothpaste. You bought it, thinking it would make you smell like a million bucks and magically get you laid. You used it twice and now there is a soap scum ring growing around it in the shower caddy by the shaving cream and old Bic razor you use to clean up your nut hairs.

Use it for the dog. It lathers up great its not irritable and actually the perfume works good on the pooch. Now I have a clean dog who smells great. The bitches are showing up and loving all over him. Go figure.

Thats it. Have a good and safe weekend. Be kind to each other. Smile and remember to treat your waitress good. She really may be only doing that job while putting herself through college getting her medical or law degree. It could happen. ūüėČ

Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.


Did we all update our Apple devices to the new iOS 6 software? I did. Do it. I looks good. Nice Facebook integration. Except the new maps application sucks.

Been listening to a lot of The Who this week. I don’t know why, but I have always like them. If you’ve not seen The Who live in concert try to. I was lucky to see them in ’03 or ’04ish when John Entwistle was still alive. At that time and currently Zak Starkey was on drums in Keith Moons place. You may or may not know Zak Starkey. He is Ringo Starrs son. Keith Moon was Zak’s godfather so guess who taught him drums. A small rock and roll world.

Anyway at the time Pete Townshend had to be in his early to mid 60’s and as sure as I am sitting here on my mothers eyes, that man f’ing could still rock. Amazing concert. When it comes to Rock and Roll as we know it, The Who is royalty. The Who was everywhere with everyone that did anything in rock and roll. Hendrix, Stones, Beatles, you name it and ¬†within three degrees of separation to make Kevin Bacon look like their bitch, The Who was there. ¬†If you got out to see them this year touring for the Quadrophenia album you can die happy. Except I got to see them play with the one and only “Ox” on bass. You’re cool. I’m just a bit cooler. It’s a cross I have to bear, don’t cry for me Argentina!

I healthed the diet up a bit after indulging in the comfort food that was Steak Melt sandwiches. Some baked chicken breast, baked potato wedges and creamed spinach. No big deal or secrets. Chicken, potato, oven, eat. Rather boring. I wanted to make some good Kosher food to pay tribute to all my Jewish friends in honor of the high holidays of Rosh Hashanah this past week. All I found that interested me was some damn good looking beef rouladen and spaetzle and you do not get any more Third Reich German Nazi than that food so I held off on the dish. We don’t need to be insensitive after all. I’ll make it next week.

Steak Melt Sandwiches

Steak Melt sandwiches are just like your typical patty melts the only exceptions being instead of using some kind of ground beef patty, you use shaved steak slices, regular white bread and a tablespoon of ghetto.

Here’s your cast of characters. (Please don’t mind the 70’s counter tops, it really brings out the color of my eyes!)

  • Cheap sliced Swiss cheese and if you cant get it free on a government food line then Walmart is your next best bet. Except at Walmart be sure to show a little butt crack when checking out.
  • Sliced steak like product. Could you use actual sliced rib-eye? Sure you could but what the hell are you some kind of aristocrat? You’re already at Walmart getting that cheap assed Swiss cheese with your plumbers crack, and needing a shave. Go over to those big open freezers everyone sneezes into after scratching their ass and pick up a box or two of the classic Steak-ums.
  • Bread. Decide how many sandwiches you want then multiply by a factor of 2. Three sandwiches? No problem. Your bread slice formula will look like this 3 X 2 = 6 slices of bread. See you just got some math learnin’ in for the day. We’ll clean that Walmart trip off you yet smartypants. Spread a little margarine or butter on each of those bread slices champ.
  • Two sliced yellow onions. Walmart these babies too. They’re over in the produce section in the big bins. Look for the ones grown in some south American country and cultivated by twelve year old slave labor. Walmart knows cheap food. Take advantage. Fan away the fruit flies and gnats at the onion bin and pick out two that look salmonella free.

Saut√© up those sliced onions in a pan. A little olive oil salt medium heat 5-7 minutes and proper caramelization you’re good to go. Pour off into container.

Now in the same pan you just cooked the onions in, fry up the Steak-Um mechanically separated beef product slices. Now don’t worry. Steak-Um is 100% beef. It says so right on the package. Beef eyes, ass, lips, pecker its all beef 100%. Its good for you. Carnivores unite! The fond left over from the saut√©ed onions adds a rather nice piquant flavor to the Steak-Um.

Onions= Check!
Steak-Um= Check!
Buttered slices of bread= Check!
Swiss cheese slices= Check!

Now you have your miss en place ready to go.

If you’re like me and have a handy dandy panini grill set the temp to high and get ready to assemble your Steak Melts. Otherwise use the same pan you saut√©ed the onions and fried the Steak-Um in to make your sandwiches.

Assemble the sandwiches in the pan or on the grill. Don’t try and put them together on the counter or a plate or your hand. The bread is buttered numb nuts! Last thing we need is a bunch of lubricated slippery hands making a mess in the kitchen. This isn’t that kind of a movie.

So, place a slice of buttered bread on the pan or grill buttered side down. Put your Steak-Um beef product on the slice of bread, spoon on some of the sautéed onions, then cover with a slice or two of the Swiss cheese followed up by placing the other piece of buttered bread on top of the Swiss cheese. Only this time the buttered side of the bread is facing up. You get all that?

If you’re cooking in a panini press, just close it up and let it go. 5-7 minutes worked for me. Keep peeking till its done to your satisfaction. If you’re cooking in pan on the stove, 3-4 minutes, flip the sandwich over and let it go again for 3-4 minutes. Again just keep your eye on it and take it off when its done the way you like it.

Slice ’em diagonal. Why? Why not?

Not too bad for Ghetto Walmart eats and hey we didn’t even wind up on any web sites like this woman did.

There you have it. Steak Melt sandwiches.

 

 

We lived through another day

Its a good excuse to celebrate
Take a number knock on wood
We’ll find a reason to feel good

Another weekend draws to a close, and another work week begins. Let the collective sighs and moans commence.

Lots of things in the news this weekend. Seems some douche bag made a rather less then flattering movie about Islam. Then some more douche bags rioted and stormed our embassies around the world. Some of our citizens were killed. Some douche bag in the White House apologized for the movie to the douche bags rioting, and then that douche bag went and partied in Las Vegas with a couple more douche bags. Remember all these douche bags when you vote in November.

Saturday evening I wasn’t in the mood to cook. I ordered a pizza from Domino’s. I regret it. I knew I would regret it before I ordered it. I still ordered it. I have gotten involved with women in much the same way. Why do I put myself through this misery? Lets take a deeper look shall we?

Saturday as stated I wasn’t in the mood to cook. I was hungry, I wanted to eat so I had to do something. I knew I was going to eat shitty pizza and I accepted that fate. My criteria for shitty pizza was the following.

  • Had to be able to order my pizza online. I didnt want to dial a phone number and talk to some pimple headed douche bag to submit my order.
  • I had to be able to pay with my banks debt/Visa I had about $7 cash on hand. Ok for drivers tip not enough for shitty pizza.
  • Delivery. I don’t want to cook, I’m sure as hell not driving for shitty pizza
  • I wasn’t going to pay silly money for shitty pizza.

I knew my choices essentially came to three options. ¬†Pizza Hut (or in my vernacular Pizza Slut), Papa John’s, or Domino’s.

Out came the trusty iPad. Pizza Slut (Hut) has its own mobile app. Someone should wake up the Pizza Slut/Hut IT department at up at corporate. It blows up on launch and I noticed it hasn’t been updated in at least a version or two of IOS. Good going Pizza Slut/Hut. You’re just like every other corporate entity in this nation. Sleep at the switch and what customer service?

Papa John’s online site for ordering was working. Poked around a little. Papa John’s idea of a deal was $13 for a single shitty pizza before a delivery charge and tax. Kiss my ass crooked John your no Papa of mine. I am not paying $15+ for a single shitty pizza no matter how many peppers and little tubs of liquid garlic butter jiz you may throw my way.

Domino’s here I come. Domino’s was at one time many years ago an acceptable shitty pizza option. Hit the website. Pretty easy to navigate, well laid out. Two medium two topping pizza special for $5.99 each. Ok thats better but I am alone, dont need two whole medium pizzas. Dominos has been advertising these new cheese bread sticks. I can substitute this for one of the shitty pizzas. No problem. Out the door with tax and delivery I’m at $15 and change for two items. I’ll sling the poor schlub delivery driver a $5 and I got food for a day and a half.

Dominos sucks! Their pizza sucks, the abortion of the new and improved cheese bread sucks. Everything sucked. I wasn’t shocked. I knew it was going to happen from the beginning. I torture myself like this all the time. My instincts told me it was going to suck and as usual I ignored my instincts, said to myself, “how bad can it be, its better then making something at this hour” and sure enough I wasn’t let down. It sucked.

As I thought about this issue I have with shitty pizza, I realized I could use choosing to eat shitty pizza as a metaphor for choosing shitty relationships. Fortunately I have had a lot more shitty pizza then shitty relationships. It doesn’t change the fact that every shitty relationship I have been involved in, I always in every single case knew from the very beginning the relationship was going to suck. Sure enough each time I ignored my gut instincts and WHAMO, it sucked.

Look at this psychology. I even tried to apply the old cliche that “there is no shitty pizza and that all pizza even shitty is still good”. Yeah…ahhhhh…..nope. That’s categorically not true with relationships. If they suck, then they suck.

I know exactly what makes a great pizza. I know exactly what I think will be a great pizza. I have had great pizza. I can say all the same in regards to relationships. I know what makes a great relationship, I know how to make a great relationship, I have had great relationships.

Great relationships are like great pizza. A great pizza is awesome when its fresh right out of the oven made with great ingredients. Its also awesome if you can wake up the next morning and without having to do anything to it, just pick up a cold piece and its still great for breakfast. The problem I find is a seemingly great pizza fresh out of the oven, usually rates low and drifts back into the “suck” zone when cold the next morning. I have had relationships exactly the same way. Great that night fresh out of the proverbial oven, wake up the next ¬†morning, look over and go, “oh Jesus Christ another shitty pizza”.

We can send men to the moon, Dina Lohan can blow Dr. Phil in a drunken stupor on tv, but why cant I have a great pizza? Why do I keep lying to myself, going against my good judgement and going back to try what I know is going to be shitty pizza?¬†I know what I want in a pizza and I know exactly what I want in a relationship. I can make great pizza all day long. Unless I start collecting Tesla coils and sending out Marty Feldman to start digging up corpses and bringing back AB Normal’s brains I can’t make a completely great relationship. I got all the great ingredients I just need to find a woman with an awesome oven I guess.

That was my weekend. Shitty pizza and all.