Archive for August, 2006

Published by Tamara on 26 Aug 2006

“Bone the chicken”

I’ve been threatening my mom and sister about putting together a family cookbook, one that encompasses Dad’s side and Mom’s side of the culinary spectrum.  It all started because my mom told me about an old recipe book she found in her mom’s stuff, and one of the entries was for Dandelion Wine, another for soap.  I am so far removed from a culture in which you have to make your own wine (with weeds no less) and your own soap (with lye…which, coincidentally, is an ingredient in Lutefisk, a meal so disgusting, you’ll wish you were dead.) that I thought it would be fun to try out the recipes.  I don’t know if you guys remember, but I am super lazy.  I have done exactly zero of the things it would take to make either of those items and really the only thing that I have done is continue to think about where in the hell one finds a plethora of dandelions, because, come on, my lawn is alternately brown and full of clover, and really, I don’t want to make wine out of weeds that my neighbors dogs pissed and shat on.

Today I was going through my finances and realized that after dinner tomorrow night for a close friend’s birthday (heavy drinking!) I will have exactly $12.00 in the bank (I’m only exagerating a little, I’ll have $12.92) until payday.  Payday was Friday.  So $12.92 for two weeks.  (Ok, I have more than $12.92… but seriously it feels like $12.92.)  The point of this exaggeration is that I decided to see what the cookbooks suggest for times like this.  I have three cookbooks that aren’t vegetarian, and fuck if I’m going to eat vegetarian by choice for two weeks.  So I pulled out the Hendrickson Cookbook, and my Betty Crocker “New Choices” Cookbook (which means it’s lame butter free recipes) and the “New Dieter’s Cookbook.”  It became very, very clear that I have a some serious food issues.  Someone please buy me the Mark Bittman book.  God.

I cracked open the Hendrickson Cookbook (this is Dad’s side) and flipped to Chicken Manyana (which made me giggle, because I’m fairly certain they put the ‘y’ in there to make it clear that this is a “Mexican” recipe.  Ole!  Or as the Norweigan’s say, “Uff da!”  Actually ‘ole’ and ‘uff da’ are very different representations of exclamatory remarks.  I feel like ‘ole’ is like ‘ta da’ or ‘yippee’, whereas ‘uff da’ is like ‘oh boy, here we go,’ or ‘fuck.’ ) Anyway, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia for this recipe my mom used to make called “Chicken Tortilla” which is a casserole that includes not only cream of chicken soup, but also green chiles.  Mexican and Norweigan unite!

I think I’ll save making it until the weather cools just a touch, but here it is for your dining pleasure.

Chicken Tortilla

1 whole chicken (fryer)
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 onion (it says grated, but how do you grate an onion, do you use a cheese grater? I’m confused)
1/2 pound grated cheddar cheese (I do, however, know how to grate cheese.  You buy the bag that says, “grated”)
1 dozen corn tortillas
1 cup milk
1 can green chiles, diced (heh.  Here it says, ‘not hot’, but I say, if you want to, go for the hot!)

Wrap chicken in foil and bake 1 hour at 400 degrees.  (or just buy a pre-cooked fryer from the deli section.  Jesus, no wonder I’m so poor.) Bone chicken, leaving in large pieces (I’m assuming they mean take the meat off the bones, not, ‘put your penis in the chicken’).  Cut tortillas into quarters.  Mix soup, milk, onion, and chiles.  Butter a large casserole dish (yeah, take that “New Choices cookbook!”) fill with repeating layers of tortillas, chicken, and soup mix.  Finish with soup layer on top.  Store in refrigerator over night.  Bake at 300 degrees for 40 minutes.  Cover with grated cheese and bake until cheese is melted.

My mouth is watering right now.  Enjoy!

Published by Tamara on 12 Aug 2006

Me and you and everyone in the audience

I don’t know how to tell you this.  It wasn’t a dream.  It really happened.

I’m not one for volunteering during “performances” but somehow (maybe because my friends are assholes*) I always get volunteered, and then I’m the dork in the chicken suit dancing for the lady getting cut in half.

Last night I had to lay in a bed with Miranda July while she spooned me.  I was told to keep my eyes closed but they kept flying open. I was sure at any moment the whole audience would be laughing at me because I couldn’t hear the whispered directions that the stage manager was stage whispering too quietly at me.

When I was allowed to return to my seat having missed the group reading of the cue cards, Cats told me I looked really skinny up there.

I know she was lying but it made me feel better.  Because when you go to a Miranda July show, the audience is 95% hipsters and 5% people who think hipsters should eat more beef.  Guess which per cent I’m in.  In addition to that, Miranda July weighs about what my left leg weighs.  So… being spooned by a very skinny person is kind of awkward.  Especially when you know 96 people are watching you.  I will say however, for an audience full of hipsters, they were very non-judgemental.

*Cats is not an asshole.