Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Why Texas Is Still Frakkin' Red

OK, I was at the Bexar County CEC meeting last night; and of course their was lots of talk about Ciro's campaign, complete with resolutions, checks being written (started by a whopping $2,000.00 check by the Courage campaign), the whole ball of wax. Gina Castaneda, his campaign director was there, and as usual, she reflected Ciro himself, being quiet, patient, courteous.

Then David Van Os showed up, to a show of respect I haven't seen in a while. Right in the middle of a vote, everybody stood up and clapped as he walked in the door. He courteously waited until the end of the meeting, asked for the floor, and then began to talk about how Boyd Ritchie and his cabal are sitting on their assses while Ciro is facing Bonilla's Army.

Ciro is facing that Army with loyal but exhausted troops who have not had one single bit of help from the TDP, now or during the Special Election, a fact verified by Gina. She said that the campaign has asked for help in the run-off, but Boyd says they have no money and no people to help. Ciro is on his own, folks, in the most important frakkin' election left this year, and no-frakkin'-body, from the TDP to the DCCC is doing shit about it.

David went on to say that all the candidates in Texas faced the same ho, hum during the election; the TDP entering no fray, sending no personnel to any candidate from Barbara Ann on down the ticket. He told us that after Gregg Abbott was caught using official equipment and personnel in his campaign material, they did nothing, even though he pleaded with them to issue a press release, come out against Abbott. They refused to back their own candidate! And this happened all over the ticket, all year long. And you know why?

It's because what the TDP fat-cats do is, they take our money and then send it out of state to the DCCC, the DSCC, the Big Boys'Campaigns and PACs. The national groups get fat and sleek while the Texas Democrats, fightin' at home, don't even get left-over WWII C rations. We have to make our own frakkin' ammo and our own frakkin' guns, while the TDP sends all the good shit to John Edwards, Rahm Emmanuel and the Beltway Boyz.
Shame on them for asking when we are in such dire straits, and shame, shame, shame on Boyd Frakkin' So-What-If-I-Left-A-Candidate's-Name-Off-The-Convention-Program Ritchie.

You know what to do. Look into those sad Ciro eyes, then send a check - one more this year - to the last Texan Standing.

Then, call these people today, and let them know what frakkin' tools they really are.

(Cross-posted on Texas Kaos)

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The bitchin' is gonna begin, now.

Bills filed yesterday by Frank Corte:

HB 16 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to certain municipal development programs involving areas having characteristics of blight or a slum.

HB 17 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to the establishment of a pilot program to provide a ballot by electronic mail to military personnel serving overseas.

HB 18 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to creation of a public education voucher pilot program for certain children.


HB 19 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to a school choice program for certain students with disabilities.


HB 20 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to the expulsion of students for assault of school employees.

HB 21 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to informed consent to an abortion.


HB 22 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to the regulation of certain physician's offices where abortions are performed.


HB 23 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to disclosing information to persons obtaining emergency contraception.


HB 24 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to a fee on sales of alcoholic beverages in certain municipalities to fund fire and emergency services and related educational activities.

HB 25 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to punishment for the sale of an alcoholic beverage to a minor.

HB 26 Author: Corte, Frank
Last Action: 11/13/2006 H Filed
Caption: Relating to liability for injury arising from a motor vehicle accident.

Friday, November 10, 2006

Fruitcake, Again

OK, here it is, doorstop fans. But I must apologize for a small error yesterday. You only need 1 pound of butter, not 2 pounds. I was thinking cups. You need 2 cups of real butter. You will need a lot of big bowls.

For dark fruitcake:

Mix your 4-6 pounds of candied and dried fruit together. Candied ginger is a good addition. Pour over the fruit about 1.5 cups brandy, irish whiskey, rum (if you must), sherry, madeira or porter. Mix well. Let stand a few hours or overnight. (Are you beginning to see why it's not too early to start making these monstrosities?)

You can mix these dry ingredients and set them aside: 4 C. flour, 1 T. each cinnamon, allspice, nutmeg, cloves, and 2tsp. salt. Adjust for your taste. I prefer allspice to cloves.

You can also separate and refrigerate your eggs if you wish - 16 of them.

You can also grease and flour enough loaf and tube pans to hold about 1.5 gallons of batter. Line the bottoms with parchment or waxed paper, even the tube pans. Bundt pans don't line well with paper, which is why I don't use them, but I do cut out rings for my angel-food pans. Re-grease over the paper. Cover them in plastic, and refrigerate them, too, or put them in a relatively cool place.

When you are ready to complete the task, drain the fruit, saving any liquid.

Cream 1 pound of butter with 1 pound of dark brown sugar very, very well. (Feel free to use light brown, if that is what you have. Or white if you want lighter colored cake.) Good, light creaming is important because there is no leavening in this cake - what little rise there is comes from air beaten into both the butter and sugar and the eggs.

Beat the egg yolks you set aside yesterday. Beat them until they "ribbon" and are lighter in color. Add them to the butter mixture, first by folding, then by more beating. We are beating air in here. Beat in any liquid from the fruit now.

At this point, you gently fold in the flour mixture, using a light hand to keep as much air in the batter as you can. If your batter is too thick, add some booze. Combine with the butter mixture.

Beat the 16 egg whites until stiff. Gently fold them into the butter-yolk mixture, trying not to deflate them too much. Air, air, they need air!

Add two pounds of nut meats to the fruit, and sprinkle another 1 cup of flour over the fruit-nut mixture. Using your hands, be sure it is all covered by a few grains of flour.

This is when a lightbulb will go off in your head. You will be thinking, "Oh, now I see why I should have sterilized my sink before I started this. I have no bowls big enough for this job."

So, in your sink, or in an enormous bowl, using your hands, incorporate the fruit and nuts into to batter. You will see that there is very little batter for a lot of fruit and nuts. In the olden days, they liked it this way. You can always use less fruit and nuts next time. But, for now, onward. You are over halfway through!


Pour into prepared pans. I can't tell you how many, because I don't know what your pans hold, so that is why I warned you to prepare all your loaf and tube pans. I usually fill 4 small loaf pans and three 4X8 loaf pans with this batter. They do not rise a whole lot, so you can fill them 3/4 full, or more. I bake the small ones for about 1.5 hours at 300 degrees, and the larger ones about 3-4 hours at the same temperature.

Remove them from the pans when they are warm, not hot. Cool completely.

You aren't done yet.

Soak enough cheesecloth to wrap the cakes up in your liquor of choice. Wring out the cheescloth. Wrap each loaf individually in about four layers of cheesecloth. Wrap each one tightly in heavy-duty foil, and store in a cool, dry place, like your beer fridge. OR, do what my gran did - store them in a big crock completely covered with powdered sugar. Bury them in powdered sugar. They need to rest at least one month.

To serve, take out, unwrap, and let sit at room temperature for about 2 hours, then slice into very, very thin slices. Serve with Earl Grey tea. To store again, re-wrap in cheesecloth and sprinkle with brandy, then re-wrap in foil.

Or, you can buy some fantastic fruitcake at Costco and go to a spa for the day with the time and money you save at Costco.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

The Kitchen Is Now Re-opened. Let The Bitchin' Begin! (And The Beginning of Fruitcake Season, As Well)

Well, the campaign is over, no more good girl. It's time to tell it like it really is. But first, a word about fruitcake.

You know, that stuff that only your great-uncle liked, but your grandmother made literally, 20 pounds of every year? Because that was the recipe yield? Well, I want to talk a little bit about it. You see, my grandmother made it, rice pudding, and roast lamb. That was all she could cook. Well, she made soup with the leftover lamb and called it hotpot...

Anyway, I have a son-in-law that really loves fruitcake. He loves the cheap-ass stuff wrapped in clear plastic that is on the shelf with the Little Debby as much as he likes the homemade stuff wrapped in cheesecloth soaked in brandy and aged in a tin for two months. But I want to talk about the latter.

My dad hoarded my gran's brandy-soaked, cheesecloth-wrapped, tin-stored fruitcake. And he kept it in the fridge in the garage; the fridge we stored the beer in and the fridge he fermented the kosher dills and kraut in. So the fruitcake needed a good, tight tin in that fridge. My dad, Bill Kasser, did like his drink. And he had a bedtime snort of about 3 inches, followed by a ever-so-thin slice of that fruitcake, Summer, Fall, Winter and Spring. He made a 4 pound fruitcake last. 'Til I discovered fruitcake when I was about 16. And that's when he started making it, using Ann Gillan's recipe, which I will share tomorrow. But this is what you will need:

About 4 pounds of your favorite glace'd fruit. I use cherries, pineapple, golden raisins and orange peel. No figs, no currants, no lemon peel, no angelica and no citron. But feel free to use that shit if you want to.

About 2 pounds of nuts. I like pecans since I married a Texan, but walnuts work.

About 4 cups of middlin' brandy. You can use rum, but I think it overpowers the fruit, especially the dark rum.

About 2 pounds of butter.

Your favorite spices - easy on the cinnamon - and include the nutmeg.

And literally, your sterilized kitchen sink. Also, take out all your loaf and tube pans. Wash them, dry them well.

Oh, I forgot the cheesecloth.

No, it's not too early, trust me on this!

See you tomorrow.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Life Is Just Happening Too Damn Fast!

Well, I see I forgot to post the Cranberry relish - well, I'll do it in time for Christmas, I promise. You will forgive me when you hear my story:

About 6 weeks ago, I picked up the phone and heard somebody ask me if I was the same dks married to an Army officer, who lived in MD in 1984-85 and had a foster child named David. When I assented, the caller told me he was that same David, who had spent years looking for us after we had left the area for a tour in Germany.

That David was a sweet, quiet 16 year-old who had spent most of his life in institutions, had been severely abused by his father to the point of brain damage, been separated from his 3 sisters since he was 5, and was very poorly socialized. He didn't even know how to use a knife and fork when he came to our house from a juvenile detention center. He was with us for 9 months, during which time I despaired of him ever making it in the world outside of institutions. He hated homework, didn't read well, had a hard time with the freedom normal family life brings (but really liked it), and needed 24/7 intervention on the part of school officials, medical people, the legal system, and us. In spite of the difficulties, we became very attached to him, and considered adoption, but knowing we were going to have an overseas assignment, decided he couldn't handle that stress. We managed to locate one of his sisters, though, and flew her from another state to spend holidays with us. That reunion was so poignant.

We lost contact with David, but he spent the next 2 years in a number of placements that were not the best. He ran away from the last institution, and turned 18 "on the lam". He looked for us in a number of cities, hitchiking the West where he thought we might be. He eventually gave up, got some job training and a CDL, met a great girl, started his own tanning business, and married her. He has 3 kids. Guess who we had for Thanksgiving this year?

So this sweet boy, so quiet, so damaged, who I thought would be in prison or a group home somewhere, at best, came to see us, looking for the only good family memories he ever had. We thought we had failed him, but he made the best of whatever he got from us, and has succeeded in life beyond our best hopes. He asked us if we could be a family again, so I went from being a grandmother of 2 to a grandmother of 5 over the Thanksgiving holiday. He was surprised to find he had a baby brother, and happy to see his sister, our daughter (Goddess of Purple) again. Their birthdays are a day apart in November, so we celebrated them together again this year. Our daughter gave him a framed copy of a picture taken on his birthday in 1984 of the two of them together. We gave him a more practical gift of hunting binoculars.

Mr. dks is already tired from running for office, and the election is a year away. Every Saturday brings at least 3 "meet and greets". He found a treasurer last week, an old Army buddy, and his own "Band of Brothers" is forming around him. I don't think he'll be "swift-boated", though, for a little Texas Legislative district campaign. But just in case, Terry, Chad, and some others will be there for him. Goddess of Purple is his communications director, Little Harvard is his volunteer coordinator, The Ned will be organizing block-walking, and I, dks herself, have been named campaign manager. It is going to be a hell of a ride. I was idly wondering last night just how many surprises this campaign will deliver; maybe even winning. Now that would be a mighty change, indeed.

Mmmmm. All those turkey left-overs gone yet? I sent mine home with GoP and the Ned. He doesn't think it has really been Thanksgiving if he doesn't eat turkey for 4 days afterward, so he gets the leftovers. I kept the cranberry relish, and have had it for dessert every night since T-Day.

I hate articles about using left-over turkey. We're supposed to eat turkey sandwiches with them, not make them into all kinds of other stuff like "turkey divan" and "turkey croquettes" or "turkey tetrazzini". All that stuff tastes better with chicken, anyway. But there's nothing like a turkey sandwich with a little chestnut dressing, some mayo, and a schmear of jellied cranberry sauce on sourdough bread.

What are you cooking for dinner tonight?

Friday, November 18, 2005

Let The Games Begin! (with pecan pie)

Well, here I am on the third day of weather cool enough to turn off the A/C since February. Not that we actually keep the A/C on all that time - our Army days have conditioned us into thinking Summer begins officially on June 15, the day the Post Commander says it's OK to use the A/C; and ends on September 15th, when we must turn it off. In my old age, I have extended "summer" from May 1 to Oct 1. No matter that I am a crabby menopausal bitch even with the A/C on - but it's a matter of degree. When I pant, rant and stomp the house saying, "It's so fucking hot", mr. dks mildly observes that we do have A/C, and that he would even go turn it on for me. That just makes me more hormonally freaky. But today, like yesterday and the day before, it is actually cool here in South Texas. The cat wishes to spend her days cuddled up to the dog, kneading her side coat. Madame La Chat gives me malevolent looks, trying to force me to turn on the heat. That we do no earlier than November 30th which is the Duck's birthday. But mr. dks came home from work last night, in the cold dark, and said in his commander's voice, "Turn on the heat, now." See, he got some sort of tropical affliction when he deployed to Panama. He can no longer stand cold weather. Some sort of mild, tropical fever he got down there has the lasting effect of have him shivering in temperatures under 75 degrees, and the docs are stumped by it. That, combined with a very weird skin condition he got in Gulf War I, a 50% hearing loss in his "rifle ear", and about 20 stress fractures in each leg and knees that don't work right, are part of his retirement package from the military - along with this strange difficulty I have using the A/C and the heat unless the calendar (or a general) says I can.

I write about Mr. dks today because he and I have made a momentous decision, a decision so unexpected, so far from what we thought we would be doing at this time in our life together, that we are still dazed. Yes, it's true. Mr. dks will be running for a state representative seat in the Great State of Texas. Tonight a lady is coming to talk about setting up a PAC, folks have started already volunteering to work the campaign, and we just look at ourselves across the dinner table, wondering, "What have we done?" I am trying to get used to the idea of wearing makeup, pantyhose and some kind of dress thing in the heat of the campaign summer. People who know me won't recognize me, which will be good thing, because I feel vaguely ashamed, as if I am wearing a Halloween costume, when I wear makeup.

So, in celebration (?) of a new beginning, I offer you my very best, most-requested dessert recipe - Texan By Injection Pecan Pie:

1 cup light corn syrup
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
2 tablespoons flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 stick real butter
1 teaspoon vanilla

3 beaten eggs

1 unbaked pie crust for a 9" deep dish pie

2-3 cups fresh shelled pecans

Combine first 5 ingredients in a 2 quart pot, and bring it to a rolling boil. After the butter is melted, cook the syrup for about 2-3 more minutes. Cool it to room temperature. (I do this by placing the pot in a bigger pot of ice and stirring until it cools to room temp.) Stir in the vanilla and the beaten eggs.

Put the pecans in the pie crust-lined pie pan, pour in the syrup-egg mixture. Bake in a preheated 375 degree oven for 20 minutes on the bottom shelf of your oven. Lower the heat to 325 degrees and bake 30 minutes more. Cool to room temperature before cutting.

Now, you can make this even more nutty by using 2 pie crusts in 2 shallow 9" pie plates, using 2 cups of nuts in each, and dividing the syrup-egg mixture between the two, and baking as directed, except to cut about 5-10 minutes off the final baking. It's OK if the top cracks. It will collapse as it cools and look fine. Done this way, the pies are more like candy in a crust, less like a conventional chess pie.

Oh, BTW, I have won contests with this recipe, even modifying it by adding 1 cup of chocolate chips to the pecans, and 1/4 cup bourbon with the vanilla, and calling it North American Cup Derby Pie in celebration of Little Harvard winning medals at every fencing tournament he fenced in Louisville, Kentucky.

If you use clear glass pie plates, the crust will be best on the bottom, but that's your call. I just really hate soggy beige crust - I like a nice dark crisp bottom crust.

Next week I will post Mawgie's Cranberry Relish. You will need 1 large pkg lemon jello, 2 cups fresh cranberries, an orange, some celery, some pecans and sugar.

The Texan By Injection is yours truly. And watch it be 88 degrees on Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Geez, how can any American cook, let alone, eat?

"Is Crucifixion Legal Under Bush And Cheney?

Jane Mayer, who along with Jill Abramson wrote Strange Justice, a definitive account of how Anita Hill was smeared and ridiculed during the Clarence Thomas hearing, has written a searing account of the death of a prisoner in Iraq.

Jamadi’s bruises, [a forensic pathologist who examined the case records] said, were no doubt painful, but they were not life-threatening. Baden went on, “He also had injuries to his ribs. You don’t die from broken ribs. But if he had been hung up in this way [with his hands tied behind him in a painful position known as a "Palestinian Hanging"] and had broken ribs, that’s different.” In his judgment, “asphyxia is what he died from—as in a crucifixion.”

As in a crucifixion. At the hands of Americans. And it may not be against the law anymore"


via Digby.


I mean, I am having a hard time even sleeping at night with this torture shit going on - how am I supposed to plan, let alone, cook and eat Thanksgiving dinner? I think it may be time for bread and water for us until we take our country back so decent, hard-working, right-thinking normal people can feel good about being Americans again.

In our early days as a nation, leaders called for days of prayer and fasting when the country was in a crisis. Perhaps it would be a good thing if our star chefs in America did the same thing? Godde knows, our leaders would never do it; but coming from the likes of Alice Waters, Wofgang Puck, et. al., it might have an impact. They could hold special "soup and bread" fundraisers for lefty causes. Hey! How about "Soup and Bread Impeachment Parties"?

It's just about time, isn't it, to stop playing and indulging ourselves, and fast a little? Fast from not only food, but stuff like movies out, those sexy strappy little red heels we saw in the store window, the fast little silver sport car, that new cool kitchen gadget, the $12.00 pound of pasta and the truffle oil?

No recipe today, sisters and brothers. I can't even think about food today.