Tuesday, November 25, 2014

On My Toes

It's official. Not even Google can find
anything cuter than a kitten.
Kittens: Natures most adorable terrorists. (Unless you've got a fetish for greasy shawarma beards.)

A couple weeks ago, smug in the superiority of man over feline, I posted about how I prevented little Kamikaze (Kitty #1, aka Cosmo) from fitting between the bars of my balcony railing. Then I saw Kamikaze sitting on top of the balcony railing. I'd obviously merely provided him an easy means of reaching this higher, more precarious perch.

So I used the remaining chicken wire cable ties to make little plastic spikes along the rail. This succeeded in keeping Kamikaze off the railing. Which is why he now sits on the peak of the center railing post.

Yesterday I found Pussy Monster (Kitty #2, aka Rusty) chewing on a Q-tip. "Bad kitty! That's gross!" I told him as I pried it from his strong tiny jaws and threw it away. This morning I found a hundred Q-tips strewn around the house.

I've written before how JB likes to stash cash around the house before instantly forgetting where he hid it, right? The other day I found Pussy Monster chewing up a twenty dollar bill. We still don't know where he found it, and Pussy Monster isn't talking. Then today the kitties were playing "cat and mouse" with a condom. Don't worry, it was still in the wrapper. But still, I probably shouldn't use it.


Thursday, November 13, 2014

Pac'n Sausage

It's a well-established scientific fact that carbohydrate cravings intensify this time of year. There are several theories for this, many having to do with serotonin levels. Luckily, I'm one of those rare individuals immune to this syndrome, having been born without a serotonin gland. (I'm an all-dopamine guy.)

Despite yet another congenital defect, I do find myself presently focusing on food more than usual. Preparing it and, of course, eating it. But most of all I find myself studying food. I think this is due to a combination of several factors: the approaching holidays, the extra time on my hands and my latent maternal instincts triggered by raising two baby kitties.

Mmmm, dirty Levis...
So while my Tivo simultaneously records the Food Network and the Cooking Channel, I'm on my googler looking up recipes. I admit to being partial to The Pioneer Woman. Not just because she's my role model for parlaying a blog into a lucrative multimedia empire, but also to catch every possible glimpse of Cowboy Josh's intriguing package. -->

But most of my focus lately has been on recreating flavors from my youth. This means quintessential Yooper food. Things like pasties, pickled eggs and cudighi. While pasty pies and pickled eggs have always been staples at my house, this was the first time attempting my own cudighi sausage.

Growing up, a "cudighi" was a sandwich. A pork sausage patty slathered in pizza sauce, topped with melted mozzarella cheese and tucked inside a hogie roll. But now I realize this tasty sausage was used in all sorts of yoo-talian dishes, including my favorite pizza.

Cudighi sausage was never something we made at home. Not even my grandmother, who made everything from scratch, attempted this to my knowledge. It was always something we'd get at a restaurant or sub shop. Now I know why. Making sausage from scratch is kind of gross.

Not planning to blog my sausage-making adventure, I didn't take any photos. I'll do that next time. And based on the results, there will be a next time. Even the Jumping Bean was raving about my sausage. This made me feel good, considering the last time he was on a nostalgic cooking kick, he tried recreating his mom's eggs & cactus.

Cactus.