Ree Drummond's Pot Roast

Okay, so I admit it, pot roast is one of the truly simple things to cook. It always comes out great and makes you look like Julia Child in the kitchen. Wrong!

I have to say that I have been kidding myself all these years. Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman, has a pot roast recipe in her new cookbook that is amazingly simple, yet fail safe, and will have your family and/or friends forever kowtowing to your culinary prowess.

Ree serves her pot roast with mashed potatoes, but being far too lazy to make mashed potatoes, I opted for scalloped potatoes which everyone loves (which kind of sucks since there are rarely leftovers, and those of us in the know will all agree that leftovers are the absolute best things about a great meal, right, Beaver?)

I also roast whatever other green veggie I have around: asparagus, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, etc.--just toss your greens with a hint of olive oil, salt and pepper for about 30-40 minutes next to your Dutch oven and scalloped potatoes (check them about halfway through the procedure and toss them gently so that there is uniform browning/roasting). Man, oh, man, you've got just enough time to set the table (or get your lazy-ass teenagers to do it) and throw together a quick salad, throw the baguette in the oven to warm...and, voila, an amazing meal is on the table.

If you're in my situation, the conversation will focus on teenage boys: who is "hot," who is not and who will be coming to dinner in the near future (yikes! Ree, please give me more recipe suggestions!). You'll still be sitting at the table, savoring your meal (still on the first serving), enjoying a nice glass of Cab, lost in your thoughts, while your teenagers are itching to clear the table and finalize plans for their Saturday nights. Oh, the good old days!

Bon appetit, that's all I have to report.

Worms in Edamame

There have been lots of bloggers in the past few months complaining about finding worms in edamame pods. The simple, albeit not so fun, solution is to ONLY purchase frozen shelled edamame and to stop ordering edamame as an appetizer in restaurants.

If, however, you insist on purchasing the in-shell edamame, inspect each pod carefully for brown spots and holes, open each pod carefully and inspect the inside for discoloration and webbing before picking out each bean with your fingers and popping it into your mouth.

One other option is to chalk the worm issue up to added protein and ignore it altogether. They won't make you sick other than totally grossing, even the most hardy among us, out.

Okay, so there's been a little water that's passed under the bridge...so be it.

Life's twists are so bizarre. I went from being in charge--total command behind the desk making all of the decisions; well, for the most part anyway--to kowtowing to those who now are. Funny that I find myself, lowman on the totem pole, selling the products I believe in to the folks that I used to be in a former life.

Recently, I presented a kick ass product to a company that, frankly, could sell the shit out of it. What was their geriatric, I-don't-get-it response? "You're like a third grade school teacher. Just give me the price. I don't care about your background, the company history or the product information; just give me the f'n price! Do you think you can do that?" Ha. If he only knew. Sure, I could do it. But what was nagging at me was 'is this really the right thing to do?" Nope. He needed to hear about the product attibutes and why it would be in his best interest to do so. Okay, so the outcome was the "third grade school teacher" moniker. Live and learn...maybe.

I keep plugging away, day after day, because I know that that big fish is out there, ready for me to lure and reel it in. I can feel it. I can smell it. It's there waiting.

Next, please!

Today was a really bizarre day.  It started with my arrival into a lobby/waiting room at a local retailer's headquarters to sign up to see a buyer on a first come/first served basis.  I did so.  As I turned to find a seat, I looked at over two dozen men already seated, signed in, ready and waiting--all looking relatively the same in their pseudo-Brooks Brothers suits.  

A fabulous guy sitting next to me struck up a conversation, kind of like the one I'd be more used to hearing sitting on a bar stool:  "Is this your first time here?  No?  Wow, is it always this crazy?  Wow."  I truly felt like a mentor and dinosaur all in one.  

There were a minimum of three turnovers in men waiting, with a woman sprinkled in here and there.  Frankly, it was refreshing to see a little pink or blue in a sea of black, grey and brown suits.  I sat for nearly two hours before a perky, spankin' clean buyer came out to inform me that there was a reshuffling of categories going on and the meeting should end shortly with the buyers now knowing who was handling what.  No wonder folks presenting my category were waiting, waiting, waiting...

I've never competed in a tri-athalon, and those who know me are guffawing as they read this, but this buyer was buff beyond compare--and no spring chicken either--I was in submission and immediately morphed into educator/protector mode.  "I can teach you all about this category.  I've been to the plants and seen these products made..."

I didn't make the sale due to this extremely bright buyer doing the right thing, "I've got to get to know this category a little before having you come back to re-present to me, my boss and the PR and Marketing Departments."  Yowza!  I'm in love already, but, then again, I'm totally fickle.

The Fog Dissipates

Do you ever have those days where life just serves you up one big shit sandwich?  Well, that was yesterday.  Nothing seemed to be going the way I had envisioned:  work, life, home, family, bills, you name it!

Then I took a walk, got lost in my thoughts and suddenly the sun came out.  I was healed.

So every once in a while, we just need to get out to clear our heads and start over with a clean slate.

Armadillo Extravaganza

I was driving down the road yesterday in one of our more rural states when I finally spotted what has to be biggest freak of nature:  the armadillo.  I was still kind of ticked off that I'd missed the live one crossing our path the day before, but this road kill was really cool, in a very sick way.  It had claws and body armor carapace (is that English?).  Man, talk about prehistoric.

My travel companion was French and upon seeing the live beast suddenly lost all of his English, completely, and morphed back into his mother tongue, trying to explain what he'd just seen.  It took me a few beats to put two and two together...armadillo.  He asked me the word in French...as if!  (But for those of you who must know, it's "un tatou."  Thank you, Google).

Once I spotted the first little road pizza, all bets were off--they were EVERYWHERE!  

Living on the West Coast or East Coast my entire life, it's hard to imagine that these little critters could be so prolific, but, yep, it's true.  For me, it was akin to spotting wild geese in New England, or coyotes in Southern California.  Yes, that common.

My French pal was as excited about his siting as I was about mine--dead or alive.  It just goes to show that no matter where you are on Mother Earth, there's always something to be discovered.

Oh, food, you say, I thought this blog was all about food.  Yeah, well, for some, I suppose this is.

Soap

A funny thing happened today.  I received a box of soap samples from a factory in the south of France.  There were several folks around when I opened the box:  men, women, and a gaggle of teenage girls.  

The women gravitated to the citrus-y soaps; the men to the lavender soaps; and the teenagers to the floral soaps--but only the ones that were wrapped in upscale, hip packages.  The women and men cared more about the scents than they did about the packaging.  The teenagers really liked focusing on the visual appeal of the packages and the heady, sticky-sweet smell of the floral soaps.

It reminded me that marketing a product--any product--is half the battle.