Thursday, July 31, 2008

That is NOT an olive

Doesn't that just strike fear in your heart? Did you start reading this, heart palpitating, wondering just what I found in something that I thought was an olive, and it turned out to be something totally different? Possibly totally dreadful? Well prepare to be totally and dreadfully.....disappointed ROFL! I bought what I thought was a black olive and rosemary focaccia, but somebody must have put them in the wrong pile because it was NOT black olive and rosemary. The dark bits that looked like olive pieces are carmelized onions, and I have no idea what the herb is. Thank goodness it wasn't sun-dried tomato, I might have hurled. It is okay, but drier than the olive bread and oddly enough, the onions impart no flavour to the surrounding dough. The pieces themselves are good, but there aren't many. I would have been even more disappointed if I had bought it on purpose I think. So my turkey sandwich with roasted marinated peppers and brie cheese was only just good. Normally they are AWESOME. I didn't realize until I got home that the brie I bought was chevalier - goat milk brie. Not that it matters. It is very good and creamy, not too salty, but I have to admit it tastes quite...well....goaty LOL. I bought some creamy goat cheese spread a little while ago that has a great taste and texture, but the aftertaste is goaty goaty goaty. Funny how that is fine for me in a feta, but in brie or cream type cheese? Not so much. Now, for the uninitiated. Cheese made from goats milk can be "goaty" in different ways. They tend to have a tartness or tang. That tanginess? That is good goaty. There is another variety of goatiness that is NOT sought after. This is what I am talking about. It's a sort of gamey, barn-like taste usually experienced as an afternote. It's like the barf breath one experiences after sampling several cheeses, only with eau-du-goat-barn mixed in. How is that for a description? Tee hee! I am just not batting 1000 with food lately. I made a batch of oatmeal cookies from a new (untried until now) recipe. I mixed some yogurt covered cranberries into half the batch. I have been thinking of these cookies all week. How did they turn out? Meh. Too sweet for me. They spread too much and though I like crisp cookies in general, these are more like brittle. And the cranberries seemed to have melted right in and disappeared. Next time, I will try yet another recipe, and use regular dried cranberries instead. They did smell awesome, though. I might try to convince DH to take me to Outback this week-end. I have been craving steak, and I can't find anything good enough to buy and make at home. Is it just me or has beef looked horrible lately? And for that price! Oh well. It's not like I'll starve ;).

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

So THERE.

Today at work I stepped on a "bug". That term is a euphamism, because that thar varmint was a cock-a-roach. A person in the same room freaked out on my head for stepping on said "bug". "Everybody around here knows not to kill anything around me". She said it in a very snotty way and I didn't like it at ALL. I mean come on, I am the person that has been trapping flies in the house to let them back outside for gawd's sake. But when it comes to lunch rooms and cockroaches? I don't feel like having to hermetically seal my lunch, thank you. Having seen fridges invaded by said icky things, the best policy is to kill on sight. I explained why I did it, and she snarked "That is impossible. This place is constantly being sprayed. I should know, because I sent a petition around asking them to stop the senseless killing". Okay lady, you need to up your dosage a bit. I know what a roach looks like, and I am not talking a smallish doobie. Several boxes had been delivered and were stacked in the corner, it is possible it came from one of them. What is the point of staring a squished insect in the eye and denying it's very existence? "Next time, THINK before you do something" she tossed back at me as she was leaving the room in disgust. I had to stop for a moment and wonder if maybe I was in a parallel universe or something. Later in the day I walked past her desk, and noticed a number of little items on display. Namely those little sleeping critters, kitties and kittens, curled up, about palm sized, and made of FUR. Yes, ladies and gents, she was displaying items on her desk made from the skin of dead animals. Most likely rabbit, but who knows where they came from and what they were really crafted from. Out of shock I blurted "Let me get this straight. I can't stomp a roach in the lunch room, but you have a desk full of dead animal skin? How is that right?". She argued that they were not made from real fur. I begged to differ. She continued to state "No they are not". Apparently, saying something over and over as loud as you can makes it become true in her world. But I could tell as the moments ticked on (as she was petting them and turning them over and looking at them closely) that she was beginning to realize that they WERE made from real fur. I could see it in her eyes. And I know she is the type that just may sit up all night, rocking back and forth and possibly even gagging at the thought of what she had done and feeling very very very guilty. And I am just evil enough that when I picture this, the words "My job is done" pop into my head. Tomorrow I might let her in on the fact that the "beef" listed on her frozen dinners just might be veal. Bwa-ha-ha-haaaaa!