A Last Supper

Stupid procedure tomorrow. 0630. Broad excision around Ye Ol Aberration on the left ankle. Should be a lot of fun. Including the anesthesia. Nothing quite like another human taking full responsibility for your breathing while another take a knife to you! There's always a risk of complications with THAT process, by itself. (Flashback to my Grandfather's botched anesthesia!)

So Cindy took me to The 27th Avenue Burger Bar, for a last supper. Just in case. Your Humble Narrator ordered The Woodsman, which is a venison burger topped with foie gras, caramelized onions, local salt-cured bacon strips, and a fried egg. Along with a side of Parmesan fries. My Bride partook of the Crabby Patty & Chips.

Washed it down with a couple of Not Your Father's Rootbeers. Discussed the Rap/Gospel fusion as well as random hookers that plagued me at the Roach Motel during my early months in Atlanta as well and the Legendary Ghost Pimp.Great food and a great time with The Beloved. If tomorrow is my last day, tonight was a good night for A Last Supper.

Humidity & Burnt Ends

Eldest Brother Kimmer ventured through the heat to get some PT for his new FrankenKnee. (Four weeks old, today!) Almost an hour on the recumbent bike for him. A mile in the pool for me, then a couple of miles on the recumbent. Both of us working on improving our form and waging the continual war against aging. Just over a decade (or was it a century?) ago, we would hit the gym together, in Atlanta. His stack of weights went anywhere from 200 - 400 pounds. My stack would rarely break 100 pounds. His pecs were bigger than my head. And on "leg day," he'd bring the whole gym to a screeching halt as we loaded more than 1400lbs onto the leg press sled and he'd do dozens of reps. Sometimes having me stand on top, when he wanted a real challenge. These days, he's a cancer survivor. slowly replacing bits and pieces of himself that have worn out, and working on the range of motion instead of his one rep max.

After the gym, we stopped by one of my favorite local joints: Murky Waters for an unrivaled dose of humidity & burnt ends & blues in the Deep South. We both ended up rocking a plate of 'ends. Mine showed up with fried okra. (When onion rings were ordered.) But they ended up being consumed along with multiple beers and anything else that landed on the bar in front of us.

Believe it or not, but we usually talk on a daily basis. Even though we're hundreds of miles apart. (The same with Uncle Ron, btw!) Thank you, Mister Internet. So on occasions like these, when we get together in person, we catch up quickly and rapidly get down to business: complaining about our age, the state of the union, and the ever-increasing-impossibility of actually retiring one day.  We relive some of the glory days. Compare notes on missing comrades. And eventually drag back to our kids and wives and the routine drag of our new normal.

We'll see what the rest of his trip holds. Hopefully more training and more nights on the town. Everything in moderation. And everything enjoyed while it lasts.

Grandman Pre-Race Party

Long day of work. Pack pack pack. Long drive to the Eastern Shore Motel. Traffic in the tunnel. Hot and humid the whole way. Pick up the race packet. #360 for Your Humble Narrator. Scope the course. Fight off the hunger long enough be one of the first people to the Pre-Race Party. Rotolo's. Pizza shop with lots of personality. Mimosa cider! Buffalo chicken wrap. Thirty minute wait to get our checks. End up getting back to the motel late. Discover my room is nearly adjacent to the heavily-trafficked highway. But the attendant won't allow me to change rooms. Joy. The bed is made of bricks. The pillows are thinner than most pot-holders. And the AC barely keeps the room cool, let alone cold. Prediction? Tonight will suck.

What's Cooking

Two days of resumes and interviews and little (if any) training. It was dull. You don't need, or want, details. Too much stress. Mostly in the form of doubt and uncertainty. Not to mention the air conditioner, an ancient beast from the 20th century, is coughing its guts across the yard. The medical bills to revive it will not be pleasant.

Cooked to distract myself. Pork tenderloin. In my magnificent new (as of Christmas) pressure cooker. Rubbed it down with some spices and let the machine do its magic. Less than an hour later: perfection. Where has this thing been all my life? Seriously. Where?

Under Pressure

 A pressure cooker appeared under our tree. Experimental kitchenware. Courtesy of the Jolly Ol Fat Man Himself. The Bride didn't trust it. Thought it would explode. Wanted to send it back. To the North Pole. Your Humble Narrator, however, saw his opportunity to shine!

Grass fed, bone-in shoulder roast from Country Girl's Creamery. Some giant carrots. Purple sweet potatoes (yes, PURPLE!) And an onion from the Biloxi's Farmer's Market. Seared the meat in some coconut oil. Kids pealed cut up the veggies. And away we went! Of course, being the maiden voyage, it didn't go eeeexxxxacctly right the first try. Meaning SOMEBODY only set the timer, and neglected to pressurize Ye Ol Beast. But we got past that without pointing any fingers and it didn't take long before everything was firing on all cylinders.  And THEN away we went...

Normally, when a fine fine McDougal Roast is crafted, it spends eight hours in the crockpot. On this glorious day, the total cooking time was a mere forty minutes. Roughly 10% of the normal endeavor! And it came out every bit as succulent and tasty as the traditional method. Actually, we should have cooked the meat for the first 10 minutes, by itself, and then added the veggies for 30 minutes. The carrots and onions were SUPER tender, but the poor sweet potatoes ended up as mashed potatoes.

The Bride cobbled together some bacon & green beans as well as a batch of rice. Mom brought Dad and a carrot cake. And we all feasted.

Wonderful contraction, this new pressure cooker. New recipes must be discovered! And we're all happy nothing exploded. Except our taste buds. And there're more to come.

Pub Run - 12/16/14

An easy 5K to test the knees and ankles. Multiple slow moments when some shady characters appeared in the distance and the lady runners were behind me. Still managed to finish a few seconds short of 29 minutes. Non-stop would have dropped it into the 27min range. No REAL suffering. Minor pinch in the RIGHT knee. But that is likely due to compensating for the right ankle. Played it smart: slow and steady. Happy with the results. That's enough, for me.

Afterwards, the usual folks at the usual drinking spot, but an unusual meal. Ben, owner of Irish Coast Pub. was kind enough to share a portion of his Mother-In-Law's home-made kimchi. Her being a native Korean who buries her creations in mason jars in the ground for up to a year, it was infreakingcredible stuff. Almost TOO hot. Pushed my personal limits on spice. Nearly crossed into "Oh my God, this hurts!" territory. But beer soothed the pain and it was one of the most challenging meals Your Humble Narrator has had in many moons.

Only in South Mississippi can you run 5K with your friends, then enjoy Korean BBQ tacos in an Irish Pub!

Change Of Plans

First change of plans: today becomes a rest day. No training outside. Too cold. Too rainy. Freak arctic front pushing down to our humid shores. Low temperatures are one thing. But sprints in the rain? Not conducive to healthy knees or ankles. So, rest day it is.

Second change of plans: Dad did not need me & Liam to help move the 'fridge. Took off a smidge early. Picked up Kidd Maestro Then, no go. But Liam made the highest school on his Advanced Science test today. So he got to pick dinner. Wanted brisket. Instead, he gets burnt ends! Finest BBQ in South Mississippi. And he finished his sammich first. Of course he didn't have two pints of local brew. But who is counting?

Third change of plans: Work from home. (sigh) Director from the office asks for a favor. Can't really say no. And once more into the breech. Might as well. There's no rest for the weary.

But we had a great meal. And it was good while it lasted 

Life is good.

Wanna Be Healthier?

Here's a very simple secret to keep in mind if you wanna be healthier: EAT REAL FOOD!

Here's my weekly grocery haul, almost directly from a farm in Pearl River County to my kitchen with a brief stop at the Biloxi Farmer's Market. A half gallon of whole white milk, a gallon of whole chocolate milk, an 8oz of butter, 12 or so ounces of tomato basil cheddar, and a pound of ground beef. All of which comes from grass-fed, local cattle. None of which are given hormones or steroids.

Is the Farmer's Market more expensive than Walmart? Having never shopped for such food there, your guess is as good as mine. Though Cindy would likely say everything is a dollar less if you're willing to donate your paycheck to the Walton family. However, Your Humble Narrator would gladly point out that money spent at the Farmer's Market stays in the community. And any report you're likely to dig up on the subject will demonstrate that the nutritional content of grass-fed meat and dairy products is exponentially higher than hyper-industrialized products.

Shopping at the Farmer's Market is a win-win-win situation. Better nutrition. Superior taste & quality. And the money goes to your local farmers. Oh yeah, and no waiting in line at Walmart! Bonus!

Lots Of Meh

Spent the majority of today thinking about food, shopping for food, or preparing food. But in the end it wasn't worth my time, effort, or money. And it was all my fault.

Started with the collards from Thursday's Biloxi Farmer's Market. Couldn't get them tender enough. Couldn't cook out enough of the bitterness. Couldn't get any flavor into them. Nothing worse than an unfulfilled craving despite efforts to fill it!

Second fail was the Paleo Chicken Francese. Made it before. Was much better. Burned it this time. The crust was too thick and not very tasty. But it was very disappointing. And yet another unfulfilled craving at the expense of significant effort.

Zucchini & squash noodles are easy. Actually managed to get them right. But they're hard to get wrong. A minor success but the cheapest and easiest creation in the meal.

Only other dish that worked was a break from my Paleo regimen: mac n cheese! But it was only a limited success. Tried a country recipe with some surprising ingredients including dry mustard, sour cream, and worcestershire sauce. But it wasn't decadent or breath taking. And while it didn't get thrown out, it didn't live up to expectations nor was it worth the cards.

Better luck next time, Caveman. You cannot win 'em all.

Fueling For A New Week

Long swim today. After a major squall blew through. Tons of newbies. First open water for some. All of us huddled under the pavilion. Wind blasting the rain sideways. Temperature dropped to seventy. Or less. Twenty or so minutes of Nature's abuse, then we hit the water. Full distance for me. For Augusta. Felt good. Just boring. Oddly surreal, swimming in a rainstorm. The lake slightly warm. Cold drops on my arms. Goggles all foggy. Swimming among ghosts.

Came home, grabbed The Boy, and went shopping. Supplies for dinner. Cooked a batch of homemade spaghetti sauce. Complete with grass-fed ground beef. Side of squash + zucchini. Good stuff. Surprised that something I make tastes so good. Went overboard with the fresh oregano, though. Waaaay overboard.

Fueling up for a new week of training.

Near the two month point.

Already.

Quick FIx

Didn't leave work until 7P. Dragon slaying is tough stuff. Builds an awful appetite. Came home and needed a quick fix. Ended up with something terribly easy and delicious.

Sauteed a thin-sliced onion in some coconut oil. Threw in some minced garlic. Let that soften up and added half a box of baby spinach. Grabbed a low-carb wrap. Handful of rotisserie chicken. Couple of slices of fresh cheddar from the farmers market. And voila!

Not exactly Paleo, but still super nummy. Didn't  need salsa or sauce or any additional seasoning. 

Actually ate two servings. And there's a happy belly in the house, now.

Fitness & Food

After thirteen hours on Monday and eleven hours on Monday, I get to wrestle with one hundred large worth of new servers. Unbox. Stack. Rack. Power. Network. Load 'em up. Almost a dozen of them. Some weighing 75lbs each.

Post work is dedicated to fitness. Start with strength training. (New weights this week!) And end with 1500 meters in the pool. Just thirty laps in the fading sunlight. Nothing challenging. But terribly boring. Need some tunes to do the longer distances. Otherwise my brain goes numb around thirty laps and there's little benefit in staying after that.

Once I get home: time to cook. Tonight's adventure is Jon's Spin Greek. Homemade coleslaw, with Italian Vinaigrette instead of mayo. Lamb sliders, hand formed with sauteed garlic & onions in the mix. I put them on some flat bread then topped them with Greek yogurt. And finally, the appetizer (which didn't we didn't get to sample until the main dish was ready:) baked spinach & feta with sun dried tomatoes on a quartered piece of flatbread.

Thought it turned out nicely. The lamb (which cooks down like crazy!) was a touch over-done and under-flavored. Should have hand-made some bread for them. But the coleslaw was a huge hit with Cindy. And the appetizer was OH YEAH! good. 

For a professional nerd, Your Humble Narrator does a fairly good job in the kitchen. Maybe he missed his calling? Or maybe his self-image is a bit skewed...

Paleo Potatoes

Tried a new recipe tonight: Turkey & Spinach Stuffed Sweet Potatoes. (Stole it from Juli @ PaleOMG.) Pretty spur of the moment idea. Cindy asked me to pick up some groceries so she could make a salad. I offered to cook, instead. How could she refuse such a generous offer from Her Beloved? (HA!) Best of all, they turned out spectacularly delicious. Very surprised how well I did it. Though I did include an optional non-Paleo item: crumbled blue cheese. Cindy loved it. Actually thanked me multiple times. Ate the whole thing, down to the skin. And we have enough for tomorrow.

Started off with some bacon fat. Didn't actually have it on hand. So we cooked down a couple of strips (for breakfast tomorrow) and used the remains to saute down a yellow onion and two fresh cloves of garlic. Cooked those down until they were translucent. Great aroma and a hint of things to come.

While the potatoes were still baking, added a pound of ground turkey to the frying pan (Cindy's Grandmother's, she reminded me) and chopped it up with a wooden spoon. Added some spices. A couple of table spoons of Sriracha. Keep chopping and mixing. Keep it covered to retain the flavors and tenderness.

Once the turkey and spices were mostly cooked through, I added an entire bag

of spinach to the top. Couldn't even see anything other than veggies, at first. Fortunately the greens cook down enormously. And by the time the potatoes were done, the stuffing was complete and (if I do say so myself) beautiful.

Pulled put the sweet potatoes. Sliced them in half. Took a fork to the innards. Added a tablespoon of grass-fed butter. And made mashed sweet potatoes. Topped off with a big ladle of the stuffing. Put some blue cheese in the middle, and voila, dinner for two.

Really proud of the dish. Eager for leftovers tomorrow. Will definitely make it again!

Smoke House BBQ - Florence, MS

Three hours after racing. Facing a three hour drive. Road-side diner just south of Jackson, MS: Smoke House BBQ. Parking lot full. Next to a gas station. Burning cartoon pig on the side. And a plaster recreation of the Ten Commandment looming ominously outside the front door. Greeting hungry BBQ fanatics with their somehow-appropriate slogan: It ain't no sin to get sauce on your chin. How could I pass THAT up?

Clearly a local haunt.Homestyle decor. Fake plants. Ceiling fans slowly turning in the rising Mississippi heat. One late middle-aged woman working the "counter." Another dashing back and forth in the kitchen. And Ms Nancy, the well-past-middle-aged server. All of them quite pleasant and quite southern. Wide smiles. Hint of a drawl. Nodding while they talk. And incredibly happy to help or make you feel at home. The restaurant itself more than half full. Mostly families with kids younger than mine. Across from me, a group of indeterminate aged local men. Bigger than me. Probably younger than me. And very hungry. They order seconds after sitting and it wouldn't be a surprise if Ms Nancy knew their preferences by heart.

I ordered the brisket  plate. Mixed review there. The meat was okay. Nice smokey flavor. Nice sized serving. Tender. But I prefer my sauce ON the meat. Smokehouse BBQ prefers self-service. Three different sauces featured at the table. Smokey. Hot. And "Sumpin" sauce. I liked smokey. Couldn't decipher the original of "Sumpin." The sides were disappointing. "Texas Toast," was (as best I could tell) toasted white bread. The greens were completely unseasoned. And the mac n cheese (which I ordered after Ms Nancy said it was home made) was straight out of a Sam's box. Barely tasting of cheese. Over-cooked to boot.

For a road trip, it was good eating. If I wasn't enormously picky, it was good eating. Great service, though. And that goes a long way these days.

More Moo Shoo

The spirit was upon me. Try something new, she said. Chinese, she said. But no carbs, geek! she said. And once that voice whispers... It's on. 

My usual neighboor haunt. Family store. Best General's chicken in town. What's news, but no carbs? I decide to try the Moo Shoo Pork. No previous experience with it. I ask Owner Lady what it is. Not sure what she said. But she smiled as she said it And nodded at me. Like I was making a really smart choice. 

Haul it home. And wow oh freaking wow! Thin sliced pork. Eggs. Maybe mushrooms. Hint of ginger. Garlic. And possibly a wine or something with the most excellent flavor. Served with a side of POTENT thick black hoisin sauce. And some amazing tortilla-like wraps. Though I swear Owner Lady said pancakes? No idea what they were made of, or how they were made. But the whole thing was magnificent, strangely exotic, and delicious. 

I'm thankful for the visit from the spirit. She steered me in the right direction, as usual. And I'm certainly going to get more moo shoo.

Zipping Along

One lone non-office lunch per week. Usually spent amid young drama in The Old Biloxi Fillin' Station. My life is so very clean and simple in comparison to the tales we're told each Thursday or Friday. "We" meaning my work wife: Hodge. He likes to feel the soothing kiss of normalcy, too. So, I went caveman (surprise!) and opted for buffalo wings with a side salad. Sloppy and nummy. Just the way ol' Caveman Jon likes it.

After work? Biking through the hills of Woolmarket. Me, John H & David S. Just 11 miles. But did I mention the hills? First seven miles we were zipping along. Last four, panting like basset hounds. Gotta get used to those hills. And soon. Some big races coming up, and dying on the course isn't my idea of a good finish.

Whole Wheat Poboy!

I made it more than forty years without seeing a whole wheat poboy! Saw a co-worker order one. And asked for an exact copy of it for myself. Delicious and filling and full of awesomeness. Won't be long before I order another one.

Pub Grub For Two

It should be easier to be happy. And yet people have to work at it. Create something new between them. When their old happiness dies. Maybe I'm myopic and prejudiced. But I think I try harder. More often.

Like tonight. I called, all spontaneous, and said to meet me for dinner and a drink. Just something quick. And easy. A couple of rounds at the local pub. Margaritas for her. Pints of Woodchuck por moi. We ate some plates of Korean BBQ. And a divey Irish spin on kimchi.

I think it went well. The bbq was well prepared and tasty. Kimchi was interesting, but not my favorite. And drinks are hard to get wrong. So that was my attempt. Reaching for happiness. Maybe it worked. Maybe it didn't. But I tried. That much, I know.

The Problem

I live in the fattest state in the union. Five years running. Maybe six by now. 34.4% of my fellow Mississippians are obese. And I'm not sure I understand the cause of the problem.

Paleo Pollo en Tomate

Long, non-stop day. Non-degraded biodegradable stitch dug out of my belly. Lunch on the run with Liam. And clearing the smoldering debris from multiple themobaric bombs that I inadvertently initiated at the office. Two steps forward. One step back. All resulting in a massive case of tired tired tired.

Didn't feel like being overly creative today. So I tried something simple and quick, but eventually delicious: Paleo Pollo en Tomate.

Rotisserie chicken torn into manageable pieces. Tomato sauce. Farm-grown, grass-fed cheese. Dash of oregano. And a line of Sriracha. Mixed in a skillet. Heated until the cheese melted. Thrown into a bowl. Scarfed down rapidly.

Prep time? 1 minute. Cook time? 5 minutes. Enjoyment level? Very high! Happy tummy time.

And to all a good night.