Archive for August, 2008

Eggplant. I love it.

Posted in family, farm, food, garden, how to, life, nice things, recipe, seasonal with tags , , , on August 22, 2008 by bosquechica

Oven-fried eggplant. Quick, easy, tasty.

Ingredients:

1 Eggplant
1/2 C Grated Parmesan
2 T Mayonnaise
Salt

Preparation:

Preheat oven to 425F.
Slice eggplant in thin circles (one-half to one inch)
Salt the slices and place them in a colander on their sides.
Let sit for 30 minutes. (The point of salting is to drain away the bitter liquids you sometimes get in eggplant. I’m not sure it’s really necessary if fresh-off-the-vine.) Rinse the salt off and pat dry.

Put the eggplant in a large bowl and add 2 T mayonnaise. Mix to lightly coat each slice. Add the parmesan and toss to distribute.

Lay the eggplant slices on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Place in oven on highest rack. Flip after 10 minutes and cook for 10 minutes more.

These come out light and crispy, and have been known to convert even the most fearful of eggplant-o-phobes.

We’ll have these for dinner this evening with rice and lamp chops.

Bonus round:
The French word for eggplant is aubergine. In Spanish it is berenjena.

Question:
I believe we have a regional variation on the Spanish word, but I cannot remember what it is. Anyone?

Nutritional Information:
Eggplant is one of those wildly healthy foods. Read all about it right here.

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Lost my compass. Anyone seen it?

Posted in geese and guineas, insomnia, job stuff, life, random, this-n-that, Uncategorized, writing with tags , , , , , , , , , on August 21, 2008 by bosquechica

Drat.

My brain’s gone walkabout again.

Don’t know where, exactly. When I look inside my own head, I see mostly fog.

Maybe it’s the new year making me fuzzy (August is my new year).

The chickens, geese and keets seem more important than writing.

I can’t seem to get enough sleep.

 

Maybe it’s the weather.

 

Maybe it’s my disorganized office.

Maybe it’s my hormones.

 Maybe it’s astrological.

 

Maybe it’s nothing at all.

I’ll be back when I’ve got something to say. Or when my office is clean.

Whichever comes first.

 

(Cross-posted from Cuentos – at Laurie’s suggestion.)

Can guinea hens eat watermelon?

Posted in Uncategorized on August 18, 2008 by bosquechica

One search term that brought a reader to this site.

Answer: Yes.

Guineas eat grass, sweet peas, vines, grasshoppers, lizards, lettuce, chicken scratch, corn, zucchini, etc.  Their preference is for fresh green things. They are not all that crazy about fruit, from what I’m seeing, but they did pretty well with a chunk of watermelon last week. The banties, on the other hand, polished the watermelon rinds clean.

Oh woe is me

Posted in life, nice things, this-n-that with tags , , , , , on August 15, 2008 by bosquechica

This would be the post in which I whine about my pathetic life, with violin music in the background.

Well, no not really. Maybe just a little in the beginning.

To date: I had a wearying and self-absorbed three weeks at a new job (with benefits) and thought I was going to suffocate or go mad. So much like an assembly line, a sweat shop, so rote, so . . so . . so wrong for me.

I am a free-range chicken, apparently.

I’ve gone back to private practice. Back to the road. Back to my free-wheeling, take your chances contract life.

In other news:

Mrs. BC and I went to the Jemez last weekend for our anniversary and enjoyed it mightily. Friday was my last day at the new/old job, Saturday was the first anniversary since our lovely wedding last summer in Quebec and the 11th since our first ceremony.

We slept a bit and made good food and had massage and tubs at the hot springs. Then we went shopping and picked out jewelry for each other from the street vendor outside of the biker bar on the main street in Jemez. 

We played Scrabble and read cheap romance novels. We had bacon lettuce and tomato sandwiches for lunch.

The massage I had on the third day was the best. The massage therapist directed me to visualize my “happy place” and I, being quite malleable after three days of soaking, napping and lying around, immediately saw my own front yard, from various angles. The grape vines, the honeysuckle, the rose of sharon, the hollyhocks. The barns, the willow tree, the cottonwood, the geese marching solemnly, wings tucked back hasidim-wise, nodding their heads thoughtfully.

What a marvelous thing, how fortunate we are, my wife and I, to live in our own happy place. How lucky I am to be able to turn around and walk right back to my previous work, without even missing a step. How lucky the two of us to have found each other.

No woe allowed. I am too damn lucky.