Posted tagged ‘hot dogs’

“Seafood makes you live 10 years more.”

February 24, 2018

Today is glorious. It is sunny and warmer than it has been. When I got the papers, I stood a while and listened. The birds were singing. I was thrilled at the sound. Nothing says spring more than birds welcoming the day. We will have showers later, but I’m okay with that. We have sun, if only for a while!

Yesterday it rained again but on and off as I went home from my appointment. I drove down Route 28 and stopped at Jerry’s. I have history with Jerry’s. I started going there when I was in high school when the original Jerry was the owner and the cook. It had take-out windows, and Jerry screamed at us if we, in any way, blocked the windows.  “Get out of the way. Get out of the way!” Jerry’s was open all year, a rarity in those days, in the mid-1960’s. It is still open all year, and the only difference from back then is there are no take out windows and Jerry is long gone. I ordered a shrimp plate and substituted the fries with onion rings. From where I was sitting, I could watch the cook. I watched him breading then frying my lunch. When he delivered my plate, it was full. I was delighted and snagged a shrimp right away. It was so hot from the frying, I grabbed my drink to cool my mouth. I waited a bit then dove into my onion rings and another shrimp. They were sublime.

I love hot dogs. I love to toast my rolls by slathering the sides with butter and cooking them in the frying pan. The rolls open at the top so the sides can perfectly toast. My hot dogs are usually fried. Sometimes though I steam them. When they are done, I add my toppings. Chopped onions, piccalilli, some sort of mustard and sometimes jalapeños are my toppings of choice. I always have a jar of sliced jalapeños in the fridge as I usually add them to my sandwiches and eggs.

I think I’ll go out later. I have no destination in mind. I’ll just keep moving until some place catches my eye then I’ll stop.

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”

August 26, 2017

Today is a carbon copy of yesterday. Carbon copy? Where did that come from? I haven’t seen a carbon copy for years. It has gone the way of the phone booth.

Last night got really chilly. I grabbed the afghan, snuggled under it and fell right back to sleep. When I woke up, the morning still had a chill, especially the backyard as the sun doesn’t get there until the afternoon. The first cup of coffee was especially inviting this morning,

Peapod came this morning, and all the groceries are already put away. I noticed I bought hot dog buns but no hot dogs. I also forgot toilet paper. I swear I looked and chose the paper I wanted, but obviously I didn’t; however, I did remember the Twizzlers. I do have priorities. I’ll just have to hit the grocery store later.

Artichokes are ugly. They are also too much work to eat. I sometimes wonder who was brave enough to taste one for the first time, and how long did it take to figure out how to eat it?

When I first started eating brie, I didn’t like the brie mold. I’d dig around underneath it and leave a gaping hole, sort of like eating the pie filling and leaving the top crust. It took a while before I realized the mold was tasty.

The world knows I hate beans. Where that came from I have no idea. Even as a kid I didn’t like beans. Our Saturday night baked beans never touched my plate. I look with distain at most beans, but one type makes me grimace, makes me crinkle my face in disgust. That would be refried beans. I can never get pass how they look. They are gross.

I love kitchen tools. My favorite is my juicer. It is orange metal and is the easiest way ever to get lemon or lime juice. I also love my avocado skinner, parer and my corn cutter which takes the kernels off the cob. I have this amazing little wheel which you roll and it minces garlic as it goes. I bought onion glasses but they didn’t really help all that much. Now I buy chopped onion to save myself. I have a mandolin, but the first time I used it I cut my finger so I don’t use it so much. I have knife sharpeners, but I can never seem to get them to work. Most off my knives are depressingly dull. On my sometime in the future to do list is to bring a few knives at a time to be sharpened. Lord only knows if my fingers will be safe.

Last night I was standing outside the Cape Playhouse before going inside. It was only 7:30, and it was already getting dark. I wanted to scream. Summer is too quickly coming to an end. Labor Day, the traditional end of summer, is next weekend. It’s time to accept the seasons are changing and it’s time to bring the sweatshirts out of the guest room closet.

“If I’m out of town and I’m in a situation where I have to be creative, it has to be hot dogs because that’s my comfort food.”

July 23, 2017

The song of the morning is “What a Difference a Day Makes.” We have a breeze. The humidity is much less than it has been the whole week. I have doors and windows open. The air from the window behind me is even a bit chilly. Earlier I did see a bit of blue but now the sky is gray. It is only 72˚ and the high will be just 75˚. That’s delightful, gray skies or not.

Sometimes, when I wake up, I have no idea what day of the week it is. It’s not all that important in the scheme of things, but I admit to being somewhat curious. Mostly what I did the day before is the key, but if it was a sloth day, I have to think a bit harder. It was so much easier when I worked. The days never blended together. Which day of the week made a difference then. It doesn’t anymore.

I was busy on the deck yesterday. I replaced dead with living plants in the smallest pots. I watered all the plants and filled the bird feeders. The birds seem to prefer the feeders hanging from tree limbs. I still need to get the fountain working and put the new lights on the deck rail for the spawns to eat.

I’m beginning to feel like Old Mother Hubbard. My cupboards are bare. When I open the fridge, I’m blinded by the light as the fridge is mostly empty, but I have some cheese so all is not lost.

I think the kids in my neighborhood have been kidnapped. My advice is not to pay the ransom. The quiet is wonderful. I hear only the singing birds. If this makes me a crotchety old lady, then so be it.

I really like hot dogs in toasted rolls. They are best grilled or fried though I’ll even eat them boiled. At Fenway they do both. First the dogs are boiled then fried. I’m not a fan of kraut on my dogs, but I do like chopped onions. I’m a mustard and piccalilli aficionado but relish will do. I like all sorts of mustards though yellow mustard is low on my list. When I was a kid, yellow mustard was all we had. No one ever used ketchup on a hot dog. It was for burgers, one of my all time favorite foods. I, however, am partial to mayonnaise on my burgers. I even use it with French fries.

I haven’t had seafood for a while. I’m thinking scallops or fish and chips. I have to go out later so I’m going to treat myself at Captain Frosty’s. Their onion rings are the best. I’m already salivating at the thought.

“The family is always the family but during vacations it is an extended family and that is exhausting.”

July 15, 2017

They’d be cornToday is another dreary day, cloudy and damp. Movie night is postponed as it may rain and the deck is still wet from the rain yesterday. Tomorrow night we’ll be watching Gunga Din and munching appies and assorted movie candy. We pause for bathroom breaks.

My old MAC is totally defunct. It needs a new fan, a new battery and a new hard drive. May it rest in peace.

The house next door is rented this week. A car is in the driveway, and I can hear their voices. They have a kid or two.

I went to the library this morning. Traffic was bumper to bumper even on the back roads. I dread the rest of my errands as I have to go on main roads. Beaches are empty on days like today so tourists take to the main roads to find something to do and souvenirs to buy.

We never came to the cape when I was a kid. If we were going away, we went north. My father’s friend had a place in Ogunquit, Maine. It was a tiny cottage in a row of side by side tiny cottages. There was a small kitchen with a table and chairs, and there were beds, lots of built-in beds. We never slept one to a bed as there were too many of us. In one room were two sets of three bunks. It was like a couchette on a train.

The Maine water was so cold only my father went swimming. He used to body surf. We’d go at low tide and try to catch the small swift fish in the tidal pools. We’d walk the dunes. I remember my horror at seeing naked people sunbathing among those dunes. Meals were mostly catch as catch can except for dinner which was usually hot dogs or burgers on the grill. They’d be corn on the cob and sometimes potato salad. The informality of the meals was part of the vacation.

When I reached my mid-teens, the last thing I wanted was a family vacation in close quarters with nothing for anyone my age to do. My father had to threaten me with dire consequences if I continued moaning and complaining. I used to pout with all the teenage angst I could muster.

The last family vacation I remember was the one to Niagara Falls. I was sixteen that summer. Woolworth’s was a summer away.

“Spring is a powerful spell. The blue. The clouds high up and puffy. The air warmer than it’s been for weeks.”

June 3, 2017

I have no flowers yet. Yesterday was a bust. I didn’t even leave the house except to walk Gracie to the back gate a few times during the day and into the night. I just had no ambition. Some days I’m like that.

Today is sunny and warm, but there is a possibility of showers. It is in the mid 60’s now and may get as low as 51˚, normal spring time weather for New England. I’m happy with showers. They tend to come quickly and leave as quickly. Rain stays around.

All the rain has made for a lush, green world. My lawn has new grass in spots, Gracie squat spots. The rest of the lawn is filling in nicely, and every day new blooms open in the garden. I noticed some of the flowers have seeded themselves and are blooming in new spots. The irises have buds, large purple buds close to blooming. Every day a different delight in the garden catches my eye.

While I’ve been writing this, the sun has disappeared. Clouds have covered it, and I’m not so sure it will be back. The chance of showers is closer to a certainty.

The longer days confuse me. I’m surprised when I check the clock and find out it is still early afternoon but therein lies a problem. I’m a bit confused as to when early afternoon ends and late afternoon begins. I’m leaning toward 4 o’clock.

I’m having hot dogs for dinner tonight, but I’m skipping the beans and brown bread. I never did eat the beans, and I can’t remember when last I ate brown bread. Regardless, though, I’m still calling tonight’s supper a Saturday tradition.

“There are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat.”

May 1, 2017

My patience is exhausted so I’m putting Mother Nature on notice. Make up your mind. Is it spring or isn’t it? My heat went on for a bit this morning, and I had to add another afghan as I was cold. The gray sky has returned, and it rained earlier this morning. My dance card has a bunch of house stuff to do like the laundry. It overfloweth. I have some trash and recyclables which I need to move to the trunk. Tomorrow will be dump day, but I have to get a new sticker first. Be still my heart!

When I was a kid, I could eat hot dogs every day. The best were barbecued, but that was on the weekends when my father was home. During the week, my mother fried or boiled them. When she fried them, she’d make cuts across the dogs so both inside and outside got browned. I used yellow mustard and piccalilli. Toasted buns were the best.

 

During the week, my mother served some sort of meat with potatoes and vegetables. The vegetables were frequent flyers, the list of what we liked was limited. We had mashed potatoes, corn, peas, carrots or some sort of squash. Butternut was our favorite.

My mother made great brownies. They were always frosted with chocolate and sprinkled with jimmies (the Boston/New England word for chocolate sprinkles). I liked the harder, outside edges.

Bananas were my favorite fruit. They were the easiest to eat. Just peel. I also liked them on my cereal though they always sank to the bottom. My mother used to peel the apples for us because we didn’t like the peel. I didn’t mind it when I got older. She’d cut the oranges into eighths and take out the seeds. We loved watermelon but ate it only in the summer. I don’t think it was available winters. I didn’t like the seeds in grapes. We used to pick pears off the tree in the next yard. I think they were never as I remember them being hard to bits. Blueberries came in a pie and strawberries in a shortcake. Pineapples and coconut came later. I think coconut is my favorite now.

I think my laziness dictates my meals. I don’t often make dinner. Lunch is a sandwich or hummus, or something equally easy. Cereal is sometimes dinner. I’m into Frosted Flakes, and I still add bananas.

“I make no secret of the fact that I would rather lie on a sofa than sweep beneath it.”

April 29, 2017

Today is cloudy and damp. It is supposed to be a warm day with the temperature reaching the mid 60’s, but it had better clear up quickly as it is a threatening sky. When Gracie and I went out, I waited for her and by the time I got inside I was chilly.

Gracie and I had a bad night. Falling asleep was difficult so I gave up trying around 2:30 and turned on the TV. It was 4 on my last time check before I finally fell into the arms of Morpheus. Poor Gracie was restless, and it was my fault.

When I was a kid, the Saturday night menu never changed. We always had hot dogs, baked beans, and brown bread. I never ate the beans, but I did eat the brown bread and loved the hot dogs. The brown bread came in a can. I used to butter it. Sometimes my mother fried it a bit. That was my favorite way to eat brown bread. I think it tasted better warm than cold. A while back, I bought a can of brown bread. I figure I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. When I opened the can of bread, I easily remembered the indentations circling it. I always thought they were a design. I toasted the bread then buttered it. I was shocked to find I didn’t like the taste all that much. I guess my memories have been tempered by time.

My dirty clothes have been sitting in front of the cellar door for over a week. When I was working, I did my laundry every Sunday. I lived by a weekend schedule. Now that I have all the time in the world, I do it when the mood hits me or when I am out of clean underwear. It’s the same with going to the dump which was another Sunday chore. I went the other day. I could smell the bag in my trunk. It was either leave all my windows open or go on an unscheduled dump run. Gracie was thrilled with my choice and so was I. The car smelled much better in a day or two with the windows cracked open.

I figure I inherited doing weekend chores from my father. Saturday was his big day. It was get a haircut or trim day, pick-up and leave his white shirts at the Chinaman’s, as my dad called the laundry, and drop in to say hello to friends like Pullo the druggist. When my dad retired, his schedule fell all to pieces. He didn’t need to get shirts cleaned. He let his hair get just a bit longer, and he didn’t go uptown anywhere near as often. I figure retirement means throwing out any schedule.

This morning I have a couple of errands. Tonight is Darci Rose’s tenth birthday dinner. She is a Westie who thinks of me as Aunt Kat or at least I think so. I need to buy her birthday presents.

The sun is coming out. Let’s hear a halleluiah!