Friday, November 20, 2009

Italian steak sandwiches on an American night

My husband said he had a taste for "American beef" tonight, not surprisingly. Men love beef. It's carnal, red, bloody, chewy.
Women love salad. It's fresh, crunchy, low in calories.
But women also love their men, and sometimes we just give in and whip up a beefy meal for dinner, and such is the case tonight.
I will, however, be serving this dish with salad and some roasted sweet potato 'fries,' although I'm fairly certain the children will scoff at how I am trying to pull one over on them by calling something that doesn't come in a paper bag with an "M" on it as "fries." More for me, I suppose.
In any case, my family loves these sandwiches. Packed with fat, carbs, and sodium, there couldn't be anything more american than these easy-peasy Italian steak sandwiches.
Go figure.

Italian Steak Sandwiches
A great weeknight meal!
(serves 4)

2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbl olive oil
1 pound deli roast beef, shaved
1/2 - 3/4 cup beef broth
3 tsp italian seasoning
sandwich rolls
provolone cheese, optional

In large frying pan, heat oil. Saute garlic for 1 minute. Add everything else (except rolls and cheese) and heat through.
Serve beef on rolls and immediately add cheese if you want, so that it will melt.

Eat up and drink a big glass of water-- your tastebuds will be satisfied, but your thrist won't.

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Wednesday, November 18, 2009

How I first earned the name "machine gun Karrie"

Basically, while in 10th grade doing environmental research in a river, I stumbled upon a stolen WWI machine gun. My 15 minutes of fame, used up when I was 15.
(You can click on the article to blow it up and actually read it.)


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Monday, November 16, 2009

A quest for knowledge leads to old, dusty books

Like most good children of the 1980’s, I thought we were practically Daddy Warbucks when my parents took the leap and purchased our own set of encyclopedias.
No more trips to the library where you had to wait in line until someone done was pouring over volume X, only to have your turn and try to copy down, by hand, everything about your subject. Once we got those encyclopedias, I thought, my school reports would be astronomically better. I was elated at the opportunity to peruse anything I wanted, from hamsters to the North Pole, at my leisure.
My parents opted for the silver set, which looking back I’m pretty sure was the same old set of encyclopedias with sliver around the edges, but back then made me feel even more proud of the thousand pounds of books that happily warped our family room bookshelves.
Not only that, but there must have been a deal involved in there somewhere because we ended up with an entirely other set of books, all labeled with a famous philosopher or scientist. Back then I was determined to read each and every one, ready to drink in the wealth of knowledge that my parents provided me with, all because it was there and available.
I was convinced that everything I needed to know in the entire world lay on those shelves, and by ingesting those books I would be the smartest person in the world (surely smart enough to merit my own volume one day) not to mention win every game of Trivial Pursuit that ever there was.
But instead, like most kids, I just went out to play. I don’t even think I made it through the first page of Nietzsche. That same wealth of knowledge still sits in my parent’s basement, untouched and unopened since the final report on Diplodocus that capped my senior year in highschool.
Flash forward a few years, and my own children are about at that age when the school reports are beginning to trickle home. Couple that with their natural curiosity and my inability to answer their questions (because I never read those encyclopedias like I wanted to), and we are starting to find ourselves looking up the answers to life’s greatest questions.
For example, “what’s a sun dog?” or “can kangaroos swim?”
We logically go to the fastest place to find answers: the internet. And anyone who has recently gotten an email stating that Bill Gates is going to send you one million dollars if you forward the email onto 25 people in the next four minutes knows that a) the money never shows up and b) your friends can’t believe you fell for that scam again and c) the Internet is both a valuable tool and a bunch of bologna.
Any quick search of a subject (i.e. sundog) will take you to Wikipedia, an online encyclopedia that anyone can edit. Anyone. Even you or I. About anything. (I am secretly thinking of writing up a glorious and flattering article on myself.) While most of the information on there is probably correct, there’s no proof that any of it is real, and it certainly doesn’t have the same feel as a twenty-pound book laying on your lap while your hand cramps up from copying every last known detail about the Diplodocus.
Call me old fashioned, but I’m thinking of digging up our old set of encyclopedias and letting them warp my own shelves for a while. Some of the information might be a little outdated, but I’m pretty sure that hamster research hasn’t skyrocketed in the last two dozen years, and I’m even surer that Nietzsche hasn’t written anything of late. We will display them proudly, and the kids can research to their heart’s content.
And then we’ll probably end up googling it just to be sure. Even Daddy Warbucks would rather hit “print” than copy an encyclopedia by hand.

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Friday, November 13, 2009

Me-oh-my-oh mushrooms

My husband and i have this thing we do without even knowing that we do it. Whenever we eat out at a restaurant, each of us automatically orders the one food the other person doesn't like.
I do not eat fish, and every time we eat out, he orders fish.
He does not eat mushrooms, so I'm the one usually ordering the extra large side of them whenever I get the chance.
I like to attribute it to my polish heritage, my love of mushrooms. In every Polish cookbook I've ever seen there are countless mushroom dishes, all equally wonderful because I like to live by the rule that anything with mushrooms makes it better. This rule generally applies to other things as well, such as garlic, salt, and any processed pork product. (Can I get an 'amen' for the bacon?)
Growing up, on special occasions my dad would make his famous mushrooms. We'd clean and slice them and lay them out on a plate. Dotted with butter and sprinkled with Lowry Seasoning Salt, they cooked in the microwave until tender.
Then we'd stand at the counter, he and I, and eat them with toothpicks.
Thanks to the laziness of consumers, I can now buy mushrooms already cleaned and sliced. I now drizzle with olive oil instead of butter, but our spice shelf always has a giant bottle of Lowry's on hand.

Last Thanksgiving, while visiting my parents, I made this green bean dish instead of the old standard "can of this, can of that, frozen bean" casserole that our non-dairy family. It's full of the good strong flavors that my parents and I love. My husband, not so much. He didn't even get past the mushrooms. I suppose if I make it again this year I'll have to have some fish sticks on hand in the freezer.

GREEN BEANS WITH MUSHROOMS

1 1/2 pounds fresh green beans
4 tbl olive oil
2 lemons
2 large shallots, sliced
10 ounces mushrooms (fancy if you like, plain if you don't), sliced verrrry thin
1 cup chopped walnuts
2 tsp sugar
1/4 cup fresh chopped parsley
salt and pepper

Cook the beans until crisp-tender, any way you like. Drain and put them in a large bowl. Drizzle on the olive oil and about a teaspoon of salt. Let cool.
Zest one lemon and mix the zest with the sliced shallots. Then juice both lemons and add the juice to the shallot mixture. Add another teaspoon of salt and the mushrooms. Set aside.
Sweeten up those walnuts by toasting them in a dry skillet over medium heat until you start to smell them. Then toss in the sugar and a pinch of salt and cook, stirring constantly, until the sugar melts. Remove from heat immediately and let cool.
Once everything is cool, mix it gently together, including the parsley. (You might want to save some nuts for the top. Presentation counts, you know!) Add any more olive oil you might think it needs. Serve at room temperature.
This recipe is supposed to serve 8, but I could pretty much eat the entire bowl myself.
With my dad.
And a toothpick.
Standing at the kitchen counter.

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Thursday, November 12, 2009

Veteran's Day to a 5 year old





If the hand on your heart doesn't break yours just a little, you need a lesson in patriotism.


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