Student Work

Here is a shout out to one of my students! Go to her blog and check her work out! :)

http://mangatothemax.blogspot.com/

Waiting.

Ideas in Color

Chicken kidneys

Yes, chicken kidneys.

Okay, with that being said, let's backtrack.

As I was casually strolling through the grocery store the other day, my eyes were suddenly caught up with an attractive sale sign over these whole "ready-to-cook" chickens. I walked towards them in slow motion with arms outstretched, mouth watering, and soft sweet music seemingly coming from the heavens, I scooped one up into my arms, paid the cashier in song, and danced out to my car while covered in angelic robes.

At this point, I had made up my mind to cook a glorious dinner for my hard working husband. There were going to be candles, music, and a beautiful better-than-Betty whole roasted chicken on the table.

As I started un-packaging this newly purchased main course, I'm imagining myself dressed as a 50's housewife, whose talents where going to be admired for all the days to come. As I was humming a general little tune, I looked down to my prize, and for the first time discovered what the word "whole" means when it is put in front of the noun, "chicken." My smile faded, my 50's dress turned into a butchers cloak, and I suddenly remembered why I spent a year and a half of my life as a vegetarian. I tipped the bird over and found that all of it's organs where still neatly arranged around the interior of its body, and as I placed my hands under its once-where wings, and picked the pink skinned object up out of the sink, I felt the back of the spine running across my unsuspecting fingers.

Personally, I think that any famous chef would have been proud of the way I composed myself while slipping the inside makings of the chicken into a garbage bag. Thinking that the worst was over with, and that the race was won, I ran forward and broke the yellow tape across the finish line. Still praising myself for a job well done, I turned back to the chicken and continued to prepare it for the oven... that's when the theme of Jaws started playing in the background, and the title of this post comes into play.

The kidneys... somehow these tiny little organs had the audacity to continue holding on for dear life as they watched the rest of their family get thrown into a large black bag. My eye started to twitch and the War of the Meat began. Determined not to touch the squishy-looking, bean-like objects, I turned the sink sprayer on full blast and attempted to be my own version of a fire fighter. At first my eyes remained closed, hoping beyond hope that I would remain untraumatized by the experience. Then, after blasting away at the inside of the bird for a few minutes, I peaked over thinking that I might have been victorious. As you have probably guessed, this was not the case. Now instead of two whole kidneys, there were lots of small pieces of interior chicken all over the kitchen, including my apron... At this point I had a choice, either throw the thing away and order pizza, or man up, clean up and cook that darn chicken. Just as I was about to drag the trash bag back out of the pantry, I realized that the poor chicken didn't want to be in this situation any more than I did, and if I gave up, then it would have died in vain. As I looked back over to the kidney covered sink, I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves grabbed the shovel and gave the thing a proper burial in the back yard.

Well, I didn't really do that, although I sincerely thought about it. Actually, it ended up that a few hours later, the man of the house came home to a clean kitchen, a beautiful golden brown chicken complete with stuffing, surrounded by candles, cornbread, and grilled vegetables. Thinking that I had succeeded in covering up all evidence of my glorious battle, there was a bright smile across my face as I heard my husband come through the door and say those three cheesy little words "Honey, I'm home!" As I came around the corner, face beaming brightly with pride, the look of happy surprise which was originally worn on my husbands face, slowly morphed into a look of sheer horror. As I followed his frightened gaze downwards, I discovered to my own dismay that I had neglected to look in a mirror for the past 3 hours. As I stepped over into the bathroom and peered into my reflection, I realized that instead of looking like the pretty little 50's housewife that I had re-pictured myself as when I sat the last completed entrée among the other fine dishes flawlessly presented on the kitchen table, I, in all actuality, looked like some mad scientist had tried to combine the DNA of a withered old witch with a frightened alien creature that had just emerged from the deepest depths of the earth wearing an apron that was dripping with little red raw chicken bits.

The next night was vegetarian friendly.

Nostalgia

As cheesy as it sounds I think the best part of life is the surprise of it all, you can hardly go a day without seeing something new. The problem is finding them, because we tend to get settled into a routine and then forget to look.

Notre Dame

My dad and I took a week long trip to explore Paris last summer (2010). Every moment was breath taking, but just a note - check out the transportation passes, my shoes had holes in them by day two, and then we found the passes for unlimited rides on the train. This made seeing the city quite a bit easier. Also, while it's wonderful to sit and eat at a Paris cafe, there are quite a few tourist traps. My favorite experience was going to a local bakery for a loaf (note: the bread is baked throughout the early morning, so the earlier you buy, the fresher it is), and then to a market for some cheese and fruit, then strolling over to the river park right across from the Louvre. The food is fresh and delicious, and the view is unbeatable. :)