June 8, 2013

Recipes from Auntie Carrie's Kitchen: Soft Shell Crab





If you've never seen one, soft shell crabs are all blue and spidery, and I wasn't entirely convinced that they were dead. 

"Are you sure that one's not just old and sleepy?" I asked the man at the seafood counter.

He gave me a look, but I couldn't tell if I was the weird one or if he was trying to cover up his guilt.

A nice, warm bath would be just right for these old freaky claws of mine, those crabs were probably thinking as they tried to get comfortable on their bed of ice.

They never saw the hot oil coming.

Because their eyes were gone.

I had to Google how to eat one. When I did, I found out that people also eat soft shell turtles. Since we went to the park earlier today and saw some turtles paddling around all plump and juicy, I surreptitiously checked the town's laws on removing animals from a local pond for human consumption. As far as I can tell, it's a no on fishing, but turtling isn't even mentioned.

I guess it's no coincidence that the Mayor of Lancaster's nickname is TURTLE SLAYER.


I'm not really sure why I feel okay about frying up turtles and not crabs, but that's beside the point. You come to me for fine culinary information, and I'm here to give it to you. Fortunately, there really isn't much to making soft shell crabs, which is good because I don't want to think about it any more than I have to.
  1. Dredge 'em.
  2. Fry 'em.
  3. Set 'em in front of your squeamish girlfriend along with a big bowl of hot sauce.
  4. Sit back and watch as she starts to cry a little bit. Adorable.
It wasn't all that bad when I was just poking at it with my fork, nodding my head and trying to look super adventurous and totally game while The Boy ripped an entire claw off his crab like some feral beast. I put my head down and daintily cut off the tip of a leg, dipped it in hot sauce, and set it on my tongue just as The Boy said, "Okay, I don't know what this green stuff is that just shot out, but I don't think it's bad." 

Here's an artist's rendering of my face, drawn on a used paper towel:

Just look at those eyebrows.

I made it through one claw and a bite of meat before I had to give up. So while I ate a lovely, light summer salad with sliced strawberries and vinaigrette, The Boy finished up three crabs by himself, then tried to to make me feel better by showing me pictures of all the gross sea creatures he didn't try to feed me for dinner.

But now, one of us is bent over the toilet, and it isn't me.

The crabs always get their revenge.



May 31, 2013

How to Survive Wedding Season



I love weddings. Weddings are my sports. Sometimes I wish I had made more close friends during high school and college not because I wanted to spend time with other human beings, but because Wedding Season is coming up, and it seems that all my acquaintances are getting married. I knew lots of people well enough that I should congratulate them on Facebook, but not well enough that I get an invitation.

But I'm a really good wedding guest! I shout. I never cry loudly during the ceremony, and I will ask your grandpa to dance! As long as he doesn't get fresh on the dance floor!

Clearly, all my close friends need to pick it up a little so I can attend some more weddings. Like the one friend who bought a house with her boyfriend? That backyard would be perfect for a simple ceremony in a couple weeks. I'll take a leave of absence from work and help you plan it. IT'LL BE FUN!

Or the one who's been going out with her man for half a decade? Let's just put that year-long trip to Japan on hold until after you get hitched. Wouldn't it be nice to have a husband waiting for you back in the States?

And my single friends can just match right up. I'll arrange it all, don't you worry about a thing. Come over for dinner tomorrow night, you'll have a ball.

Notice that I'm not stepping up to the plate. That's because I don't want to risk developing a patronizing tone as an old married woman who's seen this all before. I want the celebration of my friends' nuptials to be fresh and joyful and a total delight, not old news.

I'm going to a wedding next weekend, and I am a hot mess about it. I'm guessing at least some of you must be anxious little freaks like I am, so here's a guide to getting through any wedding with grace and poise:
  1. Start looking for an outfit online as soon as you receive the Save the Date.
  2. Find out who else is going so you can book hotels with them. 
    • This is a delicate maneuver. If you aren't sure whether they were invited or not and don't want to risk hurting feelings, try this approach:
      You: Have you talked to that mutual friend we have lately?
      Them: Not very lately.
      You: Yeah, me neither. Sooo, ya got any plans June 20th?
      Them: I don't think so, why?
      You: Oh. Just...it's my quarter-birthday, plus three days. (act hurt that they didn't remember)
      Them: That's...weird. Oh, wait - actually, I am going to our mutual friend's wedding that day, were you invited?
      Works every time.
  3. Freak out when you get the invitation because you still haven't found a dress to wear.
  4. Look through their registry. Buy the gravy boat and a punch bowl. Tell your date, "IT'S A CLASSIC GIFT! THEY'LL THINK IT'S FUNNY! Plus, they registered for it, so."
  5. Regret buying them a gravy boat and punch bowl when you find out your friend got them a hot air balloon trip for two over wine country. Shrug and mumble, "Well, they registered for my gift, so." Tell them the groom is afraid of heights, whether or not that's true.
  6. Redouble your outfit-finding efforts. Surreptitiously browse at work. Only rein yourself in when your searches drift toward flowy, sequined jumpsuits. Nobody else will know it's a joke and everyone will think you're weird.
  7. Oh no! The shoes you ordered - the perfect, beautiful shoes that you would give your life for if they were in trouble - have been canceled! The seller on ebay advertised the shoes in your size, and then turned around five days before the wedding and told you he actually didn't have them in a size 6, after all.
  8. REMAIN CALM. 
  9. Definitely don't roll around on the bed in despair and utter the words, "BUT THOSE SHOES WERE SO BEAUTIFUL. THEY WERE THE PERFECT SHOES AND EVERY OTHER SHOE IS UGLY." Or if you do say that, at least make sure your boyfriend isn't around to write down what you said and read it back to you from time to time in a serious voice, like he's in an experimental play.
  10. Wear an outfit you already own.
  11. Go to the wedding. Dance your little feet off. You wouldn't have kept those beautiful shoes on for longer than twenty minutes, anyway.


Image via Hungeree.

May 8, 2013

News from the Weather Channel


Before you scroll down, you should know that the caption is, "They Found THIS on Radar":

BATS.

The Weather Channel never disappoints. Take this little gem:




I didn't actually read either article, so I'm not sure if the second one goes on to say, "Nope, that would be absurd. But thanks for boosting our traffic!"

On the other hand, let's examine the facts: 

1.  I'm using more colons in this post than I ever have before.
2.  This cat is either in the snow, or it's been badly Photoshopped and also has extreme dandruff.
3.  Those eyes are magnificent. Hypnotic. He's like the Daniel Craig of cats. Or he's wearing colored contacts to conceal his identity. Nice try, Murder Cat.
4.  Hiding in snow would be the perfect ruse for a dolphin-killing feline. Dolphins can't swim in solid water! They'll never get away!
5.  Cats are notoriously evil. Snow Cats are the most dastardly of all. 
6.  Cats eat fish. But ordinary fish present no challenge to Snow Cat. Murder Cat. I've used too many names. Snurder Cat. 
7.  Snurder Cat sounds real stupid. I'll just switch off, because you know what I mean.
8.  A feline as villainous as Murder Cat, its heart cold as its wintry habitat, would only be satisfied hunting the cleverest prey: THE DOLPHIN.
9.  You know, to go back to the first picture, those bats probably knew where the radar was the whole time. They probably plotted to all flock together and freak us out, and now they're screeching at the hilarity of humans trying to use their own tactics against them. "ECHOLOCATION, BITCHEZ," they chatter, before dispersing to their various attics. Like so many old people.
10. Dolphins also use echolocation. 
11. The Weather Channel is almost definitely run by Snow Cats. Now the real headline should be, "SNOW CATS: HUNGRY FOR DOLPHIN, OR JUST JEALOUS OF SONAR?"
12. Late spring is clearly a slow time, weather-news-wise.



Images via The Weather Channel. I keep it up on my screen all day at work, refreshing it every hour like a countdown to the end of my day.  ...My job isn't very interesting.

May 3, 2013

Decorating Tips



Since I have my own apartment but no friends that I want to come visit it, decorating hasn't really been my top priority. Luckily, some friends got married and gave me their second set of kitchen stuff; otherwise I'd be eating off of the bathtub ledge (because it's easy to sterilize, and afterward I can just shower the crumbs away. Don't pretend you've never done it).

Here are the things I have in my apartment currently:
  • A bed
  • A table
  • Two chairs
  • A desk still in the box, waiting to be assembled by tools I don't own
  • A fully stocked kitchen
  • Old yogurt in the fridge, among other foodstuffs
  • Stackable plastic drawers for my clothes
  • A trash can
  • A shower curtain and some very fluffy towels
  • Candles
  • Cardboard boxes stacked up so that I can't even see the back door anymore. I keep them there to deter burgling. And in case I want to build a fort.
I'm like a less-charming Holly Golightly, in that I can't find anything, although that's most likely because I probably think I own a bunch of things that I don't. So I just wander around my apartment yelling, "WHERE DID I LEAVE MY GROWN-UP WARDROBE/HAIR DRYER/SOFA/DOG?" And then my downstairs neighbor shouts up, "CARRIE. YOU ONLY HAVE A BED AND THREE PLATES AND LIKE FOUR OUTFITS YOU BOUGHT WHEN YOU WERE TWELVE. STOP DOING THIS EVERY DAY."

Maybe I'm just a minimalist. Not because I particularly need my life streamlined, but because it's too hard to bring anything bigger than a lamp up the three flights of steep, narrow stairs. Plus, I prefer to spend my paycheck on more useful things, like fine cheeses and silly string. 

I do, however, have an impressive collection of mugs. I moved to a third-floor apartment so that on the worst day of my life, I can stand on the rickety back stairs and smash them all onto the ground. But I'll wait until the Amish are passing by, and scare them.

Anyway. I have lots of decorating ideas now that it's spring and I can shop at the thrift stores downtown and then just haul my new stuff home without worrying about breaking my body on ice and slush. Check in for regular installments of Auntie Carrie's Decorating Tips, including:

  • Match Your Home: Using textiles to blend in with your surroundings
  • Hobo-Chic: Tin cans and old shoes make any lean-to feel cozier instantly
  • In the Belly of the Beast: Throw out your zebra print ottoman; animal innards are what's in today!




Image via The Bohemian Luxe Life.

April 23, 2013

The Regular


I've joked about how often I eat at Taco Bell, but you should know that I'm not exaggerating. Today I pulled through the drive-thru and the lady at the window pointed at me and said, "No sauce, right?"

"Hot sauce."

"Agh! I knew it," she  said. "I was just telling them that I recognized the lady who always gets one bean burrito."

And all of my dreams came true.


Image via Shade One.

April 6, 2013

Recipes from Auntie Carrie's Kitchen: Tamales!




Being from Northern Mexico*, I know all the secrets of Authentic Mexican Cuisine - the main one being that there are only three ingredients in all of Mexican cookery, and those are just rearranged and given a new name, like when the nerdy girl supposedly gets a life-changing makeover, but really she just takes off her glasses and brushes her teeth for once. But everyone's still like, Whoa! Enchiladas! Those were tacos a minute ago.

To fill your Mexican pantry, you need only the following:

  1. Beans
  2. Corn
  3. Meat (a pig will do)
From those ingredients, you can make any Mexican dish you choose, like Easter Tamales, which is what we are making today. I do realize it's a week after Easter, but we had leftover meat, so we're making them again because they're that good. Plus, if I post this now, you'll have just enough time to grow your corn, dry the husks, and grind the masa for next Easter.

This excerpt from La Cocina de la Familia explains the origin of this festive meal:
The tradition of Easter Tamales comes from a little village called Oaxaca, where the days are hot and so is your sweat rash. One year, foxes killed all the chickens in the village a week before Easter. With no eggs to hide, one clever senorita (La Bruja, as she was known in Oaxaca) made fake eggs using soft dough as the white and a bit of meat as the yolk, all wrapped in a corn husk shell. Early on Easter morning she hid the little bundles all over the town, singing her wispy witch-songs all the while. It had rained the night before, but the sun was hot that morning and the water evaporated quickly, steaming the little "eggs" until the dough was cooked through. All the little children had to do was follow their noses to find the delicious Easter treats!
Of course, before long all the children had fallen ill with food poisoning, because you really shouldn't eat food that's been cooked on the ground.

[Disclaimer: This may or may not be entirely accurate. My copy of the cookbook is in Spanish, and I don't remember enough from elementary school Spanish class to understand the description under the tamale recipe. But it makes me look super legit to all my other chef friends who only have French cookbooks - suckas!]

When making authentic tamales, it is imperative that you grow your own corn, grind the masa, and collect the husks for wrapping the tamales. I think it goes without saying that you should butcher and roast your own meat in a hole outside, so we can skip that part. One tip for any beginners - right as you cuddle up to slit the animal's throat, sing this traditional Slaughter Song softly in its fuzzy, little ear to ease its suffering and lull it into a false sense of security:

O! this pig is fat,
This pig is fine,
His belly will be
Food for mine!
He roots around 
In muck and mud,
But fried up nice
He'll taste so good!
As crispy bacon
Or roasted rump,
There's not a meat
This pig can't trump!
So don't you cry
My little sow,
Just close your eyes 
As I gut you now!

This song is also commonly used as a lullaby for children who don't eat their vegetables.

Now, on to the recipe:

  1. Roast the animal in a large hole, making sure to retain a generous hunk of the fat for your dough. Shred the pork and combine with a hot sauce made of ground jalapenos, garlic, onions, and salt. If you want, go ahead and add some fat to the sauce, as well. Many people serve a bowl of fat along with the tamales for dipping. Pig fat also makes a nice hair pomade, a tasty lip gloss, and a perfectly fine slip-and-slide when slicked across the grass and sprayed down with water.
  2. Mix some masa with warm broth. Whip up the pig lard and add it to the dough. Smoosh it all together with your fingers until it stops making a gross squishing sound. Now it's ready to wrap!
  3. Spread a thin layer of dough on a corn husk that's been soaked in water and drained. Place a bit of meat in the center, along with any other filling you'd like: queso, the eye of the pig, or another tamale. Then close up the tamale like so:

  4. Line the little guys up in a steamer and place on the stove to steam away. Make sure not to turn the heat too high, or all the water will boil away while you're off eating leftover cheese, and you will burn the bottom out of your pot and then cry because dinner is ruined, and your hungry friends will get mad and rage-order a pizza.
  5. Drizzle with hot sauce, add a hearty dollop of pig fat, and enjoy!
  6. Oh, also - don't forget to unwrap the corn husk before you eat it. Those silk threads are a bitch to get out of your teeth.

* Or Southern California, as you Americans call it.



Images via Slice of Midlife, Tumblr.