koadog’s posterous

Recently, I mentioned cooking a Southern specialty - hot water cornbread.
While Southerners eat a lot of cornbread in a lot of different ways, this
is one of the more traditional versions. The cornbread patties are
ultimately fried in a skillet, but the use of hot water during batter
preparation is what gives this recipe its name.

Ingredients:

1 cup cornmeal (I prefer yellow cornmeal, but white is fine.)
1/2 cup flour
1 1/2 tbsp sugar (You can add even more if you prefer sweet cornbread.)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 cup boiling water
1 tbsp bacon grease*
2 tbsp oil (for pan frying the patties)

Instructions:

In a medium-size bowl, mix all the dry ingredients. Slowly pour the
boiling water into dry mix. Stir until mixed thoroughly. You should have a
dough that's pretty stiff. Knead in bacon grease.

With damp hands, make cornbread patties slightly smaller than your palm.
Be careful. The dough may be warm.

In a medium-size skillet, heat oil on medium-high heat. If you sprinkle a
few drops of water in the oil and it sizzles, the oil is ready to go!

Place cornmeal patties in the hot oil and pan fry on each side until they
are a light golden brown. Only flip the patties once.

Serve warm with honey butter or plain butter.

*You can omit the bacon grease, but be forewarned...you'll be committing a
Southern cardinal sin.

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To steal a line from Matt Shane... The Derby Pie is the second best thing to come out of Kentucky and it contains the first best thing -- Bourbon. This fine concoction of chocolate chips, pecans and bourbon is traditionally served around Kentucky Derby day (the first Saturday in May), but most folks will eat Derby Pie any time!

9" Pie Crust:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup Crisco
3-4 tbsp cold water

Mix flour and salt. Cut in shortening. Combine until mixture resembles coarse meal or tiny peas. Sprinkle water over mixture, one tablespoon at a time. Add enough water so pastry will hold together when pressed gently into a ball. If dough is still crumbly, add a little more water or Crisco. Roll out dough, place in pie dish. Trim and crimp pie shell top edge.

Pie Filling
1 stick butter (1/2 cup), room temp or slightly melted
1 cup sugar
2 eggs, beaten*
1/2 cup flour
pinch of salt
2 tbsp bourbon
1 cup chopped pecans
1 cup semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350F. Cream butter and sugar. Add beaten eggs, flour, salt and bourbon. Add chocolate chips and pecans. Stir well and pour into your unbaked pie shell. Bake for about 45 minutes. If top is beginning to brown too much, cover with aluminum foil and continue baking.

Serve slightly warm with a dollop of whip cream. For those feeling extra indulgent, add a splash of bourbon to your whip cream before whipping it.

*High altitude note: I add an extra egg white to the 2 eggs. I live at 6000' and have had a hard time getting this pie to cook thoroughly. While the filling should be moist, it should not be goopy and I've had several pie centers come out goopy. The additional egg white seems to fix that problem.

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Last night, as I was staring at a bottle of KABOOM! in our kitchen, I asked the medical professional boyfriend for an explanation of how Billy Mays died. While Mays was no Michael Jackson, I still liked the guy. I've never purchased Mighty Putty, OxiClean or ZorbEEZ, but those corny commercials are certainly stuck in my head. Corny or not, that's the sign of a successful ad campaign.

In the article I read about Mays' death, the coroner stated Mays had hypertensive heart disease. So I said, "What does that mean in layman's terms?"

I didn't exactly get layman's terms, but I will try to convey the lengthy and technical explanation I did receive. Obviously, we don't know Mays personally or the details of his death, but there might be a good lesson in his passing for all of us.

Essentially, hypertensive heart disease means you have some serious high blood pressure issues. The higher your blood pressure is, the harder your heart pumps. The heart, being a muscle, increases in size the more it works out (just like a weighlifter). The walls of the heart actually thicken in hypertensive heart disease.

The problem with this kind of high blood pressure workout, as opposed to a jog or bike ride, is that the heart never gets to take a rest. Uncontrolled high blood pressure works the heart out 24 hours a day.

In everybody, the heart contracts and pumps blood out to the body. After this contraction, the heart relaxes and refills itself for the next pump. If the heart walls are thick, the heart has a hard time relaxing and thus has a hard time refilling.

Since it can't refill, the heart muscle itself starts starving for oxygenated blood. No oxygenated blood equals a muscle cramp.

If the heart is cramping up (which is what a heart attack is), it can't pump blood and that in turn can end life as we know it.

Some people survive heart attacks because only a part of the heart muscle is affected and the rest of the heart can either keep things going or recover quickly enough to keep them alive. Or the big hunk of cholesterol that is blocking blood flow to their heart passes through. Or they get the hospital and receive medication, etc.

With hypertensive heart disease, the entire heart is overworked and struggling. The entire heart cramps up, quits pumping blood and you fall over. If the heart can recover from this cramp, it will start pumping blood back to your brain first, which is the organ that tells your body to breathe. But if the heart is down for the count, then the brain is down for the count and that means you are down for the count.

The boyfriend made two interesting remarks at the end of my cardiac care lecture.

1) 25% of adults don't know they have heart disease until they fall over dead from a heart attack.

2) Most folks don't see a doctor on a regular basis between the time they leave their pediatrician in high school and find themselves in the care of a cardiologist in middle age.

Obviously, this post is not meant to be taken as serious medical advice and I'm sure my more knowledgeable friends will have corrections, but it might make us all think about how to avoid falling over dead at 50.

Now where did I store those dusty workout videos...

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My brother, Tighe, lives a pretty cool life in San Francisco. It's a great
place for restaurants, concerts, sports games, museums, events, etc.,
...but apparently not for cars.
 
Several weeks ago, someone cut the intersection corner too close to his
apartment and clipped the front corner of his black Honda Civic.
 
And they didn't stop. Of course.
 
So, after getting the car back from the body shop, Tighe said, "I'm no
fool! I'll park one car length back so if someone else cuts the corner, my
car will be safe!"
 
At 6 a.m., Sunday morning, a police officer knocked on Tighe's apartment
door. "Um, good morning, Mr. Herren. Two cars have been hit by another
vehicle and yours is one of them. I thought I'd talk to you first since
your damage is worse."
 
Always a good way to start the day :)
 
Who knows who hit -- and totaled -- Tighe's car. They crashed into it
sometime in the early morning and then drove off. Somebody saw the
accident and called the police, but left no name or number.
 
We're not sure what's more impressive:
 
A) The car was hit with such force that it was shoved clear on to the
sidewalk. (The car was originally parked on the street against the curb.)
 
or
 
B) Whoever hit Tighe's car still had a drivable vehicle and was
able to leave the scene. (Tighe joked that they must have been driving a
tank.)
 
The police officer asked Tighe is he had any ideas of who might have done
this, although it's most likely it was just a drunk idiot.
 
Tighe's response?
 
"I have no idea, but whoever hit my car last month decided they needed to
come back and finish the job. My insurance company is going to love this."
 
R.I.P., lil' Civic :)

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One of the best things about my last job was that there was a small health
club below our office. I have belonged to many gyms over the years, but I
really enjoyed this club because many of my coworkers belonged too. Their
motivation to work out made me more motivated to work out.
 
Now that I'm doing freelance/contract work from home, I am also trying to
save a few bucks and work out at home.
 
While the new workout space is fine, the new workout partners are not.
 
Normally, Daryl and Koa could care less about what I'm doing, but for some
reason they find the exercise equipment very interesting. They like to sit
next to it, under it, and as you see -- on it.

And harass me while I'm trying to use it.
 
But perhaps I should look at it this way? Sit-ups have never been harder
since I have to crunch my abs and block Daryl's wagging tail of death at
the same time!

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Yesterday, I walked out our front door and noticed this navy Subaru wagon
across the street. My first impression was that the rear hatchback door
was just up and someone was getting groceries out or something.
 
The closer I looked, the stranger the car looked.
 
As Dave stepped on to the porch, he took the words right out of my mouth.
 
"Does that car have a back end?"
 
Nope. Apparently not.
 
What was more impressive was that the neighbors were still driving the
car. Who knows if that's legal, but who cares. It is Butte, ya know :)

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Not only does this sucker creep me out, but it's not even alcoholic. It's a real worm, but the sucker contains "artificial tequila flavoring." If I'm going to eat a worm, you better believe it will be an alcohol-induced decision! Eeeeew. Yuckoooo.

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This is the rain gutter from the house to the garage and I'm not exactly sure how these two icicles got stuck together. It looks like the lower icicle fell off the gutter and the upper icicle caught it at the last moment!

In reality, I would think the lower icicle had to slide off the gutter slowly for it to have enough time to freeze to the other icicle. But, if it was moving so slowly, I'd expect the icicles to be stuck side by side. Hmm...

Kinda cool.

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I won't go as far as to say champagne, but we've got pretty sweet powder. Expecting wet and heavy snow, I kept finding myself grin as I shoveled the sidewalk.

The snow tapered off at dinner, but the flurries are picking up again. It's supposed to continue snowing off and on throughout the night. If we've got almost a foot in the yard...that ooonnnly means more on the ski mountain. (You know the snow is deep for Butte, when you see the city bus slide down the hill backwards :)

I was worrying about my insane private medical insurance costs, my $2500 deductible and so forth last night. What's even better is that unless I'm run over by a bus or get a brain tumor, this insurance is worthless (financially). As I balanced my checking account, I definitely felt some money anxiety sneakin' in. I've been looking for jobs locally, but there just isn't anything.

For a few moments, I wondered if it is time to look out of state? Reinvent myself professionally for the umpteenth time? Honestly, how long can A-personality KoaDog really hack this unstructured/freelance/house-girlfriend gig?

While in a TV daze, Dave muttered, "Tomorrow is going to be an epic powder day."

Yeah, it is.

So back to working for the man? I don't think so.
(At least this week. And if I don't break a leg skiing and actually have to pay that deductible.)

You really can't put a value on being able to take off, mid-week, for a day of knee-deep powder skiing with the BF :)

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Such a nice guy at work. Who knew?

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