Pudding Pops and Brussel Sprouts: a Cullinary Review

Of late I've been bemoaning the abscence of Pudding Pops. Ah Pudding Pops, those creamy frozen treats from our youth and the reference point of every bad Cosby impression. I find it dissapointing that such a unique, brand backed product would shrivel up an dissapear from the market. Everytime we went to the store, every grocery store, I'd search up and down the frozen food aisle. But to no availe. Not even a no-name brand knock-off.

Until last week.

What glorious sight should i see in my grocers freezer but the familiar "Jello Pudding Pops" logo. Now produced not under their own power, but co-branded under the "Popsicle" brand. Popsicle(TM) is one of those brandless brands. They make all those frozen ice-creamy things sold by ice cream trucks. Items that you probably think of as being beholden to no one brand. Like Fudgesicle(TM) and Cremesicle(TM).

Sadly, whether it be me or the recipe, I find the new pudding pops less satisfactory. The shape has changed. Once a flat wedge with rounded top, it is now cyclindrical in shape. i prefered the former. It allowed these wonderful sheets of ice to develop around the pop - sliding off as you licked. Loved that.

They also seem to be softer, not as initially sturdy (though maybe this is a difference in freezer settings).

And finally, the consistance is a little chalky. Especially on the vanilla. The chocolate is creamier, but Amy notes it tastes pretty much like a fudgsicle (which isn't really a bad thing, in my book ).

Onthe topic of more helathy, but still not entirely satisfying food, I made brussel sprouts for Easter Dinner. This was, surprisingly, the first stime either Amy or myself have had brussel sprouts. What we learned from this cullinary expedition into the unknown is that, regardless what the recipe may say, brussel sprouts do not cook well by sauteing. Flavor: not bad. Texture: not even resembling cooked. Next time, I'm a-broilin'

But the roasted pear and walnut salad, carrot and apricot julliene, and cherry pecan stuffed pork loin were mighty tasty indeed.

Spring?

I saw a robin last week.

Two crocuses have popped up in our backyard.

It's spitting snow.

I'm so confused, but hopeful.

Perfunctory

Perfunctory was the favorite word of my high school chemistry teacher. If you have memories of the word being joyfully called out in regards to a series of test results, then you probably attended Batavia High School. Sadly, my voice never had the timbre to utter it with the proper mocking joy. I'd forgotten about perfunctory until this evening. Tony decided that since we have a membership to Netflix we can happily experiment with movies we'd never have payed to see in the theater. We've had Daredevil hanging around for about 6 weeks. This afternoon we decided that it was time to watch it. We had pizza. We were feeling lazy. Some days anything looks good compared to doing the dishes. My first thought was, "All style, no substance." Granted this was because one of the first bits of voiceover was, "My other senses developed a sort of radar sense." My writing is clumsy at times, but nobody pays me. Plus it was primarily hearing that took over and wouldn't that technically be sonar? I know, comic book physics doesn't equal real world physics. Anyway, as Tony was looking up mediocre in the thesaurus perfunctory popped into my head. It is the perfect adjective in this situation (in hindsight it may have also been appropriate to high school chemistry).

Perfunctory - 1. performed merely as a routine duty: hasty and superficial 2. lacking interest or enthusiasm; apathetic.

Thank you Webster's.

Death and Taxes

I learned (or maybe that's relearned) a good lesson this week: the wisdom of Neil Gaiman is not for everyone.

Once a month the clinic has a staff meeting. We rotate through giving inspirational quotes known as "Thought of the Day". Wednesday was my turn. Now I don't find myself inspired by tales of misplaced cheese (though I did read it for a previous meeting - swearing the entire time) or even fish being flung through the air. These type of "inspirations" usually leave me wondering what someone is trying to sell me or turn me into. That being the case, I reached for my own favorite bit of inspiration and appropriated it from The Sandman. Specifically the story arc "Brief Lives" and the comic summarized as, "The dogs of art, The people who remember Atlantis, concerning mammoths and falling walls, truth or consequences and other places, when I dream i sometimes remember how to fly, ancestral voices prophesying, bored, she makes litttle frogs, who controls transportation?" Anyhow, for those of you who don't know the reference, we meet 15000 year-old Bernie Capax who gets squished by a wall and brags to Death, "I mean I got what, fifteen-thousand years. That's pretty good, isn't it? I lived a pretty long time." Death responds, "You lived what anybody gets, Bernie. You got a lifetime. No more. No less." I squished around a bit for brevity, but I love that, "You get whay anybody gets ... a lifetime. No more. No less." It sends shivers up my spine and my inner voice always adds on something like, "... to bring joy or pain, peace or sorrow," or, "... so make it shine." Unfortunately, I must not have conveyed it well because there was just silence after I finished. Lesson for me: Even in a place where death happens regularly, don't bring it to the meeting table.

On a brighter note our taxes are done! Such a relief. Now all we have to do is not spend our entire refund in Korea. I think we'll be safe on that count.

Bring joy and make it shine :)

Snow

One of the greatest feelings in the world is sneaking a snowball into the freezer and pelting your unsuspecting spouse.

Really.

I recommend this to anyone who has become heartily sick of the snow that continues to fall. I especially recommend this to anyone who finds herself daydreaming about catching innocent, unsuspecting aquaintances with a snowball to the face or back. Yeah, that would be me. Apologies in advance if you cross my path in the next few days. I really want to hit someone with a snowball.

It's all in good fun, like when Colfax bites the laundry I'm folding. I just want to play in this overwhelming abundance of whiteness we've been gifted with.

I won't mind too much if you throw a snowball back at me.

I'm off to make angels now.

We've got Seoul.

The tickets are purchased. So it's official.

April 8th we leave for a week's vacation in Seoul, Korea.

This will be the first time Amy has been to Asia, my second (I lived in Seoul when I was 10 and my step-father was stationed on Yongsan Army base).

It's going to be interesting seeing how much things have changed in 20 years - my understanding is that it has become very westernized. We shall see.

Why Korea? Why now? It's all made possible by convenience of family. I've got family living there (my uncle is an engineer for an auto manufacturer that will remain nameless because, frankly, I forget exactly what he does. But whatever it is he does, it must be important, because they kept shipping him over there for weeks at a time for business trips. Finally, they just bit the bullet and moved.) So since they are there already, we get to wack a bunch of moles with one mallet. Amy gets a new continent knocked off her world travel list, I get to see Korea again, we ge to visit family, and all without having to pay for a place to stay. And with my good fortune on expedia.com, our trip will cost less than if we had, say, flown to Disneyland for a weeks stay.

And now Amy can get off my case about being blog delinquent.

-tp

Like a Lion

A huge, white lion with a roar strong enough to measure in miles per hour, with a mane of frost and a tail of ice, March has entered in. It's reminding us that sunshine does not mean spring and that longer days do not mean a thaw. In fact, we could be up to our knees in snow until Beltane, or at least April Fools Day.

Sadly, I came home at lunch to a frantic pair of doves. February and November are usually rather mellow, even if they don't want to interact with us. They were both bouncing around the cage, eyeing everything in the room and giving warning/distress calls. Oddly enough, they settled when I opened the cage and pulled out the nest bowl. Inside was a partially pipped egg with a dead chick. They've laid many eggs before and none have ever come close to hatching so I just leave them in the cage until they lose interest. I actually thought that they had a pleasant alternative lifestyle. I guess I'm happy that they're fertile, in case we want baby doves someday. I wish that we could have found out with a live hatchling. Both doves seem fine tonight. They are cuddled up, waiting to be covered for the evening.

Four to six more inches of snow are expected by morning. The winds haven't died down yet. I hope that this lion turns into a lamb in a few weeks. I think I might give the doves another try with the next set of eggs and see if life will emerge.