Tag Archives: vegetarian

Top 10 Clues You Are Not Cut Out for Country Life


So, you think you can cut it in the country?  Yeah, well that is what I thought, too.  However, last week after dissolving in tears upon committing vehicular skunk-slaughter, it became glaringly clear you can “Take the girl out of the city, but…”.  (I mean really, the poor creature was just trying to, shall we say, get to the other side).

Therefore, just in case you may have the bright idea to a switch to rural life anytime in the future, allow me to bestow upon you the benefit of first-hand experience!

Top 10 Clues you are not cut out for Country Life.

10.  You cry over road kill.  Including the skunk that assured your car would never smell the same again.

9. You shudder when instructed to park your car on the grass – even though it is already filled with cars, trucks and ATVs.

8.  You think wearing 4 inch wedges to a hayride is a feasible alternative to high heeled pumps. But, at least you learn the purpose for the warning “beware the steaming rocks”.

7.  You look at your kid like he is Jack the Ripper when requested to gut and cook the fish he caught.

6.  You feel compelled to declare the yard an animal sanctuary…from your kids.

5.  Your car and a deer leaping out of the woods collide – you are dismayed over the deer’s injuries but completely unconcerned by the fact your car is now totaled.

4.  You don’t like red meat. But, you try to keep this one under wraps on the off chance there really is some truth to the “ride out of town on a rail” rumor. (oh, and on a side note: You never mention that “vegetarian” word)

3.  You have a maniacal fear of mini-blood-sucking-demons-from-hell,  also known as  Tics.

2.  You are not a fan of dirt/dust/mud/gravel/snow/ice – they interfere with your shoe choices.

and last but not least…

1.  You are at a loss as to how to respond to the question “Do you want ½ a cow?” because you are busy picturing which half and how a cow stands up with only two legs.

If you still decide to give the country a go, I wish you luck and may you never feel the sting (or smell the smell) of skunk road kill.

Where’s The Beef?


Man cannot live on broccoli alone…or so my husband and kids tell me.  The truth is, as a singleton I attempted to prove the opposite.  I starved out more than a few guests who, looking for a snack, found only broccoli and water in my refrigerator.  But even I had to admit after a time, a re-acquaintance with chicken and fish was necessary. And with the advent of husband and boys into my life, even the occasional meeting with pork loin had weaseled its way into my culinary repertoire.

But, when my growing boys began to ask, “Where’s the Beef?”, I knew I was in trouble.  You see, I have never been on good terms with Beef.  We don’t like each other, and my attempts as a newlywed to prepare Beef resulted in varying forms of barely edible shoe leather – proving, Beef and I just did not play nicely together.

However, one night, while perusing a cookbook, I came upon a recipe for Beef Brisket.  In light of recent requests (demands, threats to hide my ipod) and excitement over mentioned recipe, I decided to take on Beef once again – beat him at his own game.

So off to the store, list of ingredients in hand, I went.  The first sign I was in over my head was at the meat counter.  I ordered the recipe required poundage whereupon the butcher began piling hunk after huge hunk of meat onto the scale.  It probably would have been back to the fish counter for me, but butcher-guy, seeing my deer in the headlights look, quickly suggested I cut the recipe down and try one hunk of Beef.  And once I solved the “consommé” vs “beef broth” mystery and got over my fear that liquid smoke was not just some guys dying breath in a bottle, I was ready to begin preparation.

However, from the outset, Beef and I suffered misunderstandings: First being that, Beef had to marinate for 24 hours (oops, “spaghetti for dinner tonight?”). And second, the following night after 24 hour marinating, discovering that Beef did not cook for 40 minutes but for 40 minutes PER POUND (umm, “dinner at 9:00 tonight?”). Nonetheless, hunk of Beef and I finally came together and completed the meal.

So finally, the moment of reckoning had arrived. I gingerly took Beef out of the oven.  Beef looked good.  Beef smelled really good.  I cut Beef into slices and served Beef to my, by now starving and salivating, victims family.  Whereupon we discovered…I had made… the most wonderful…possibly first time ever…Beef Brisket Jerky. It wasn’t flaky, or tender, or delectable.

Nonetheless, either out of fear this would be my last foray into Beef’s world or out of sheer pity; my patrons verbally declared it a rousing success:

“It tastes good”,

“At least its beef”,

“It’s not that chewy”,

“I like jerky”,

“It tastes like some I had in a restaurant once” (note to self, never go to that restaurant again).

Their heartfelt accolades were so sincere and insistent I almost began to believe them; enough, at least, to consider casting my lot with Beef once again.  I guess you could say we may never be BFF’s, but at least now, Beef and I seemed to be on speaking terms.

But, just so Beef would not get the last word…

I made Carrot Cashew Soup for dinner the next night.