Looking at the last post I wrote, this title might seem odd. Of course, once you read what has happened since the last post maybe not. I promise-I have some great St Patty’s day retro fun to post after this post. Then Easter or maybe then fun stuff sent from another dog lover first THEN Easter retro fun. But first I must post this post.

Here is the quick summary: we had an old dog named Jake. Really old dog. His official name according to “the papers” he came with is “Big Jake” and big he was, for a cocker spaniel. Was is the key word in that sentence. This afternoon he went to the vet for the final time. Two weeks ago, he was an old, deaf, blind dog with a cold. 10 days ago he was an old deaf, blind dog with a cold and a gooey eye. Six days ago, he was helping me make dinner. He often did. I noticed as I threw him some leftovers before I tossed the dish in the sink that he was wheezing. Four days ago, he went to the vet. The vet gave us some antibiotics he didn’t believe would work. Some eye ointment that might help and some bad news. Well, he gave Denise bad news. She didn’t take me. She probably should-we could have made the decision then and not spent the last four days thinking about life without him. Instead she brought him home and he spent the last four days confused, sick, hurting, petted, fed a billion treats, expensive moist food that came with fancy script, covered with his own goo, and the snot of a 14 yo girl and yeah maybe a little snot from a 40 year old woman.

Jake did not have a bit part in my woo-ing of Denise. Jake “belonged” to Denise. Or Christopher. Officially, he belonged to Christopher. He was one of a pair of dogs, Jake and Chanel. I pondered often that I was falling in love with a woman with GIRLY dogs. Cocker Spaniels. One named Chanel. I like big dogs. Real dogs. She got them pre-named and in typical Denise circumstances. Jake had a reputation by the time I met him. I got warnings about how Jake “tried to eat people.” I paid no attention. Dogs love me. I don’t love all dogs-but I have no problems with dogs.

After driving all night the first time I showed up at Denise’s new house in SC, I met the two dogs. Sort of. She grabbed leashes and wrangled them and barricaded them in the kitchen. There they would stay most of the time when the kids went with me to SC to see her before we were a family-at least Jake would. Chanel loved everyone. But Jake became my dog in those first minutes. I knew his blond mother was not my type of dog. I spoiled him rotten. I liked him. I trusted him. Denise not so much with trusting Jake. She was careful. She had reason. I understood and understand that. For a long time my AIM buddy icon was a picture of him that I had cropped and added the words Double Treats.

A few months after the first time I met Jake, I surprised Denise by showing up after she had gone to bed. I had had a bedtime call with her on the phone with her having no idea I was on my way there. I let myself in the house. Jake had met me at the door…without a snuffle. I went up to the attic where she slept. Her first words were about how Jake might have bitten me. No, baby. Jake won’t bite me. He never did.

He got neutered. Soon after we became a family with one house, numerous kids (how many this week? 5? 6? 7? 4? 3?), 2 dogs, a cat, oh wait, more cats, more critters, (turtles, sea monkeys, a rat, some snakes (secret!), spiders, frogs, skunks) a bird, and always Jake.

He never bit the kids either. A combination of introducing them and letting him know they were family helped there. Yes, we were cautious-both of us on that score. No, you never leave ANY dog in a room alone with little tiny kids-no matter how even-tempered and definitely not one with a reputation like Jake. He was oddly the first member of our family that I always knew where I stood. We couldn’t break up in those early days because Jake was mine and I was Jake’s-but Chanel and Jake were a pair.

In the kitchen is where Jake and I met and cemented our relationship. I broke the no table food rules. (Ok, I broke ALL the rules from the “No surprise Denise” rule to the “No feed the dog anything but kibble and ONE dog treat” rule)

He stood underfoot while we cooked. You could tell if I had been baking (or the kids) by looking at him-his black fur no doubt had a splash of white or more. Flour and powdered sugar were attracted to him like a magnet. Everyone says Denise cleans up after me in the kitchen. It really mostly was Jake for many of the bigger messes. Though, he really didn’t much like romaine lettuce.

We moved here with just Jake and the bird. Jake rode with me in the truck. Denise rode with the bird. I got the better deal. After many years of confusion, after years where we thought that it would be Chanel’s last-we had her put to sleep right before we moved here. It wasn’t as hard as today. We had many times woken up in the morning and been unable to wake her. We had practice thinking that saying good night was good bye.

Despite Jake being old, increasingly deaf and blind-we just didn’t think goodbye. In the past year, he had stopped threatening people as they came into the house and as they left. He only gave it a try if they turned their back on him OR they tried to leave the house with one of HIS kids. Meaning-for the first time in years, my ex could come in and chat without me having to hold Jake until the kids went out the door with him. In the last 6 months, the UPS man could get to the door and back to the truck without tiptoe. One dark rainy night, we got delivery without Jake knowing what was up until the delivery driver walked away. He wasn’t really sick-until last week-just old, blind and deaf.

Denise said no more dogs after Jake dies. She has said this for years. I don’t really want another dog today-really I wish all people would keep their dogs at home for a few days so I don’t even see them.

I just want Jake-Jake that I tripped over while I cooked. Jake that drove me crazy because I would be stuck holding him when we had company-particularly male company. Jake that smelled and drooled. Jake that would need cleaning up after if we were away too long. Jake who loved me.

A Christmas picture of Jake-with Michelle-the other unpredictable wild creature I got with Denise. Both in the middle of everything-always. I can’t find a flour covered picture of him today-just as well.

As for Puppy Stew…after getting back from the vet, we went to see my daughter in the opening night of her performance project show. The first scene in the show is a Baba Yaga tale that starts at the funeral of Vasalisa’s mother. The last scene in the show-my daughter is in…from A Girl Named Zippy-and they were talking about the neighbor Zippy suspected of making and eating puppy stew. Put a Neal Gaiman piece in between and it perhaps it was the oddest,saddest inadvertent memorial of a dog, who really would eat you if you weren’t family. Girl child came over to say goodbye right before practice on Saturday. She said puppy stew kept tearing her up. She is the baker whose batter spill we decided not to wash off of him before we took him to the vet. It was a part of who he was and what he meant to our family.

No, I am not done with the snot. Not yet. I don’t know why. I have lost pets before. I have even taken them to be “put to sleep” before…this time was tougher or I am softer. Or both. Shrug. I will butch up soon. I promise. In the meantime, you might find me in the shower. Keep your dogs at home. Don’t try to say my mother’s dog is just the same. For goodness sake, don’t trot out the rainbow bridge thing. Just know that I loved him-every over bred, brainless, loving, protective shedding, smelly hair of him.

So, there is an official site for Meat Out Mondays…but that isn’t why today is a meat out Monday. The Great American Meat Out Day is coming on March 20! You can even get free meatless products to celebrate-hurry if you want to get them by hosting a Great American Meat Out Event. If you aren’t sure about going quite that far- you might want to consider just attending an event.

I encourage you to take a look even if you haven’t had a meatless meal in months. If you are a lapsed vegetarian, a flexitarian, or a vegetarian–even better. To all the vegans who read my blog anyway-hey, you will really like these folks.

I confess we are way lapsed vegetarians and really every time I think vegan-I cringe-even though I thought it while touring an absolutely beautiful dairy operation where the cows were treated like queens-at least in public. I do like cheese and eggs and cooking without them feels too challenging.

I choose a veggie diet because touching meat gives me heebie jeebies. I choose it because I tend to make healthier choices when sticking to it. I choose it because the foods have an amazing ability to transform and make me smile.

I am not a vegetarian or vegan for compassionate reasons. I can’t even get into it for health reasons. I tend to think fuzzy math when we get into save the planet or feed the hungry. That might work for you. I know the meat out organizers espouse those ideas.

But you know what? It doesn’t matter in the end why I choose not to eat meat on any day or why someone else chooses a completely vegan lifestyle from shoes to snack time. I encourage all of you to support the meat out though and think about your food and the ways in which meat free meals can make you think of veggies as more than a supporting role.

(Totally non sponsored ramble about the Great American Meat Out which turns 25 this year) .

I didn’t properly plan for the Academy Awards. I don’t watch movies. I know-it is a failing on my part. So, we are not having Oscar food. Not even Oscar Mayer Weiners or bologna.

What recipe of yours would win an Oscar? What category would your recipe win.

My hashbrowns: Best Supporting Side Dish for a Main Dish Role.

My love is off to California for a bit of a business trip. I hope all goes well and productively for everyone but most of all I hope the hours speed by until she is home again.

In her honor…a California retro recipe from the “Fresh Mushroom Cookbook”, Sybil Henderson, 1967. No idea what is California about this but I do know that mushrooms are always a hit here at home. Add to that this is quick and easy and we likely always have the ingredients and you have a hit!

Mushroom Marinade California

1 pound small mushrooms
3/4 cup salad oil
1/3 cup red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons lemon juice
3 teaspoons chopped chives
1 teaspoon tarragon
1 small clove garlic, chopped
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon sugar

Combine all ingredients except mushrooms. Pour over the mushrooms and marinate several hours, turning occasionally. Drain and serve.

Today the child who has given me the most years of practical parenting of teens- reached the age of no longer being a teen. Today is the day she becomes half my age for half a year or so. We won’t discuss the irony of mothers and daughters 20 years apart…even though on her other mother’s side of the family it is traditional.

I have written a lot of marshmallowy birthday posts about this child. This may be another one.

Twenty Things About Michelle

1. She scarred me. Literally. I show everyone evidence of this-the wild cat I took into my home, family and heart. (Note my other youngest child scratched me this morning-at about the same age-certainly with the same attitude) I show everyone this because no matter what, I can look at my arm and see her with me. I can remember both of us behaving badly. In other words, a poorly earned badge of honor.
2. She wants the combo breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes/waffles. Do not make her choose one thing. That pretty much is true of Michelle in general…choices provide endless possibilities and she wants to try them all.
3. She doesn’t want to wait for people to finish eating. Watching people eat makes her ill. It is vaguely ironic that she works in restaurants and thus has to watch a lot of people eat each day. Really-sitting still is the problem. She needs something to do, to think about, to act on.
4. She has made me cry perhaps more than any other person on the planet other than my mother. No, she probably didn’t know that until just now. Yeah-she is powerful like that.
5. We can push each others buttons to the point of driving each other and other people to distraction. But, she knows I love her because she can, because I can and because we got to the point where we could and not end up with doors slammed.
6. She made me insanely angry exactly two years ago…teaching me a lesson about grand plans, teaching me to go with my gut and not with Denise rules when it comes to the right moment to give a gift.
7. She taught me that birth order does make a difference…even in a family with two youngest children
8. For years her sign of approaching menstruation was her wailing that she had no friends. Oddly enough, the now 14 yo has the same quirk.
9. There is perhaps no phrase that makes me angrier than “Well, Michelle isn’t really your child, is she? Isn’t she Denise’s child?”
10. She thinks me far more naive than I am…and always has…(oddly her older brother always seemed to think I was far LESS naive than I was) I let her think that, for both of our sakes.
11. Joseph is creeped out by being taller than she is now. For years, she was the big sister both age and size wise. He is uncomfortable that he towers over her now since she still towers over him in other ways.
12. Rebecca still has a healthy fear of waking Michelle up…born from too many years of Rebecca being THE LOUD ONE in the morning (and the early bird) and having the wrath of teen girl come upon her.
13. Elizabeth…the youngest of the youngest children has a conspiratorial bond with her big sister who is also a youngest child. I think they compare notes on making the most of their birth order.
14. My mother who didn’t meet Michelle in person until just a few months ago (and who seems to not remember nine years of my phone calls to her about my teenage girl) thinks that Michelle is sweet, polite and kind. Yes, Mama, she has grown to be well-behaved when life requires it. In fact she always has been…ok except that burping in public thing.
15. Her older sister and her shouldn’t be in the same room with their mother if they haven’t seen her for a while. I thought those two girls were evil together until I realized their mother was the catalyst around which they spun. Poor quiet Christopher in the middle of that. Of course, that got no better for Chris when adding me and the three little kids to the mix.
16. She has a compulsive need to talk me up when around her father and her father’s parents. I always walk out of those experiences feeling like mother of the year, Betty Crocker, and June Cleaver rolled into one.
17. She likes BLTs and people to cook for her. She likes a clean kitchen but not cleaning it. She is horrible at keeping bathrooms clean.
18. Cinderella.
19. She cares deeply about her mom, her grandmother, her older siblings and her younger ones. She spends a good deal of time trying to teach the younger children the right path. (even if it was the one she learned the hard way)
20. Today she is 20 and half my age…and yet, I think we both know that neither of us knows it all at this halfway point but she better know that I love her with a crazy fierce love that I never expected. Happy Birthday Baby Girl.

Last night in numbering the reasons for actually having a team to cheer for in the Super Bowl, I pulled out the winning reason: New Orleans has much better food. Apologies to my father who grew up in Indiana and to my love’s mother also an Indiana native…Indianapolis may have some good food but truly no one thinks “Let’s go to Indiana to eat!”

New Orleans on the other hand – I day dream about meals there. Debris sandwiches, Po Boys, beignets, red beans and rice, aspic from Commander’s Palace…I could go on. But one must eat a muffaletta in New Orleans even vegetarians and low calorie, low fat people. It makes for a lovely lunch. None made outside the parish can compare but you still can try. It makes for good football food too.

My Non Native But Makes My Family Happy Muffaletta

1 round loaf Italian bread (no, you won’t get this exactly right unless you are in New Orleans)
3/4 cup olive salad (might be found in your grocer-especially in Chicago area or gourmet grocer (poke around the tapenade area for something chunkier than a tapenade. If worse comes to worse use green olives in oil, some giardiniara, and garlic mixed together and call it good-or I suppose you could look for a recipe)
1/2 lb Genoa Salami
1/4 lb Capicola or Ham
1/4 lb Mortadella
1/2 lb Sliced Mozzarella
1/2 lb Provolone

Slice bread in half lengthwise. Brush bread with olive oil from olive salad. Layer the meats alternating with the cheeses. Add top side of bread. Press down. Cut into quarters or smaller wedges.

I picked the children up from school yesterday. We all babbled on the way home, catching each other up on the happenings from the week they spent at their other home. As we walked in the door, there were questions about dinner which I didn’t quite have settled so I said, “Guess what!?!?!?! The Super Bowl is this weekend.” Now that might seem like a non sequiter to you- in my house on a Tuesday afternoon, it causes cheers.

My family? Football fans? No. Not.AT.ALL.

It also caused my 16 yo to look at me and say in his saddest 16 yo boy voice “I really missed you this week Mommy.” Hmmm. This boy went to England for six months without a whimper before or as he came back.” Ok, why did you miss me?”  “Because I missed watching the State of the Union Address with you AND the Grammys!” No. He doesn’t care that much about politics and if the song has words-he generally hates it. What he missed and what my kids look forward to is that sense of occasion with major televised events.

When I got my older kids, the first Super Bowl together was bizarre. My partner has no interest in football. She knew I had no interest in football. She didn’t get the food thing yet. She certainly didn’t get my fascination with tradition and pageantry. I convinced her a few snacks were in order. She worked. Young teen girl deigned to watch with evil me. The younger three kids were in Katmandu or somewhere. Ok, the younger children haven’t actually been in Katmandu-as far as I remember.

The next year the scene repeated with kids bouncing in and out of the room. Denise trying to ignore my once-a-year football thing. And thus…Super Bowl Flamingo House Style. I have a set menu in mind. One must have dip, chips, and a retro appetizer or 10. If the kids are home-meatballs, and of course, R0-tel cheese dip. Dinner will be Super Bowl food. This doesn’t mean Denise doesn’t groan every year.

The Super Bowl TV time-loud…boisterous…except during you know-the important part-the commercials. Last year,  fun because I tweeted about various commercials and sometimes people that followed me were involved in creation and tweeted back. It made me into a temporary superstar.

In any case, TV time is rare and a special occasion in this house. Eating in front of the tv-even more rare. Creating traditions with kids “off-season” priceless.

I suspect 19 yo girl (less than 48 hours on that day from 20 yo girl)  on Super Bowl Sunday will realize she misses me, not just because I won’t be there for her birthday. She will miss me because I bring excitement and fun into something that normally she finds dull.

The younger kids find the actual Super Bowl dull I can hear 14 yo girl complain now…and see her wander to her room. Super Bowl becomes the mommy magic they remember as they grow. It won’t be the food. It won’t be the game. I can’t even tell you who played last year-even though I remember watching. It won’t even be the commercials. The family time-that makes the Super Bowl special.

I could say we watch the Super Bowl because we are Americans. Americans watch the Super Bowl on Super Bowl Sunday. I could talk about food, commercials, the clash of the best. I could say (and convince you) we become a part of something bigger than our family. That much true in its own way.  Truly though Flamingo House Super Bowl traditions celebrate the same thing but in a microcosm: competition zeal, undying love, humor, heartbreak, creativity, people who invest their lives in playing the same position. You remember, that greatest of competitive contact sports-the family.

I am a star-sort of at least. Remember when I posted that Funeral Potatoes with Ham Recipe? Yes, a long time ago…but it was good and I liked it a lot! I seem to remember a bunch of you commented on it too.

A few weeks ago I was asked if I would mind if BlogHer syndicated it on their site. Of course I said yes…and now there it is…You can even see me on the front page of BlogHer if you rush over. Yes! Just like a real grown up CE! (but not-just a syndicated post)

So, if you missed it or want to give me some moral support-go over and comment Funeral Potatoes with Ham

In the meantime, tonight we are having pesto couscous stuffed portobello mushrooms for dinner.

I made a nifty mushroom sandwich on Friday night for dinner-I took the butter fried mushroom idea from the Mushroom Club, toasted some bread, added some muffalletta olive salad and an avocado to it.

Chicago seems to have a thing for egg and green pepper sandwiches-not quite like this one though. You can get them year-round in some places-other places seem to save them for Lent. Instead of fish on Friday…it is an egg and pepper sandwich on Friday.

Your corner sandwich shop doesn’t have these adorable retro beauties. You can’t beat them for thrifty, fun and tasty though!

Imagine fighting childhood obesity too-one sandwich for the whole family. Of course, if I tried to feed this to the whole family, my kids would choose no dinner. (One hates mayo, two not keen on eggs, three not fond of green pepper) That is quite all right-I find it the right size for a casual meal for the two of us.

Note the hot mayonnaise sauce is NOT spicey-but rather a cream cheese sauce with olives and pimento-adding a nice touch to this sandwich. Skip the spreading of mayo as you prepare if you plan to “pass the hot mayonnaise sauce” as suggested OR just make the hot mayo sauce and spread while assembling.

Egg and Green Pepper Family Club Sandwich

Remove the crusts from a day-old loaf of unsliced enriched or a specialty white bread. Cut in 3 lengthwise slices. Toast lightly under the broiler. Spread with mayonnaise. Place on a tray or platter. Arrange sliced green pepper on 1 slice. Cover with another slice of bread, then with a layer of hard-cooked eggs. Cover this with the remaining slice of bread. Top with seasoned sliced tomatoes. And here’s a tip–pass hot mayonnaise sauce.

Hot Mayonnaise Sauce

Combine 1/3 cup real mayonnaise, 1 (3 oz) package cream cheese and 3/4 cup milk. Beat with rotary beater until smooth. Add 1/3 cup each sliced olives and diced pimentos’ heat thoroughly in the top of a double boiler, stir occasionally.

I have a fondness for club sandwiches. I blame a childhood where such things were ladylike and fancy. Of course, I failed at ladylike anything…but I sure did like some grown up lady food. I couldn’t figure out the dresses, heels, discussions or make-up. I didn’t quite understand why all the ladies didn’t have “jobs” but never had a minute to spare. I did understand the club sandwich, but not why it was marked “lady food.”

I still like club sandwiches. My love does not…but I aim to convince her with…the MUSHROOM club sandwich! Yes! A mushroom club sandwich. Coarse cut butter fried mushrooms instead of the original chicken. I need to investigate the peppy mayo though. Because I live with an anti bacon person…I have to skip that too…making it a vegetarian dream sandwich. You know why? Because a little bit of olive makes a fine substitute for bacon when it comes to vegetarians.

I will start with the “Original” club sandwich and continue with the mushroom. Look at the photo though for the Turkey, Duck, Goose, Tongue, Roast Pork, Lobster, Salmon, Flounder Cheese, Boston, or Oyster Club sandwiches.

The Original Club Sandwich

3 slices toast
Butter or Margarine
Lettuce
Mayonnaise
2 slice cooked white chicken meat
2 crisp cooked bacon slices
2 slices tomato

Toast the bread and spread with butter or margarine.Cover one slice with chicken; spread with mayonnaise and top with a lettuce leaf. Place bacon and tomato slices on top. Cover with the remaining toast slice. Fasten securely with 4 wooden toothpicks. Cut the sandwich diagonally into 4 triangles. Stand them upright on a plate. Garnish with pickles, olives, or halved slices tomato.

Mushroom Club Sandwiches

Make according to directions for the original club sandwich; but use instead of chicke, a layer of coarse-chopped butter-fried fresh mushrooms. Add a little chopped scallion or minced olives and use “pepped up mayonnaise”

Better Cooking Library, Sandwich and Party Snack Cook Book, 1964