My Shitty Taste

1) Lovers by Foreign Slippers
2) Make You Feel My Love by Adele
3) I Wish I Was a Fisherman by Foreign Slippers
4) Elephants by Rachael Yamagata
5) Duet by Rachael Yamagata

The really sad and distressing thing is that after the top five my taste appears to begin to rock out. I guess I didn't realize I was this much of a mushy girl.

Will Alicia Keys and Jack White make it in to the top five? Will Lorretta Lynn or Alison Krauss make an appearance? And what about that song Radio by Beyonce that the ipod keeps playing seemingly every fourth song?

Stay tuned for next weeks exciting adventure!

The Wine that I am Drinking

For those of you who think all I do when I come home is sit on the couch with one hand in my pants and another around a big glass of deep, meaty, dry, red wine.

Well poo on you. Sometimes I drink white wine.

A few weeks ago I told you about the Pinot Noir I had from Cloudline. Yesterday when I was at the wine shop I saw this beauty, the Cloudline Pinot Gris (2006), sitting in the cold case next to the champagne. I wasn't going to buy it, it was $20 and out of my price range. "Never mind, some other day maybe," I said thinking that maybe with payday coming I would splurge then.

"It's our last one, and we're not carrying it anymore."

BASTARDS

It is delicious! It's the color of corn silk and tastes of musky flowers. Not dry, but not sweet either. It makes your Chardonnay look like a primitive fish with legs. I had it tonight with some red curry and a Manhattan maki.

I also wanted to give you a heads up on a new feature that Wingal has berated me in to doing. We had a good laugh at how lame the top 5 songs in the "Top 25 Most Played" play list on my iTunes were (read: Wingal called me a loser for 15 minutes while struggling to breath as she fell off her futon laughing at the songs). So tomorrow when I get home, I'll sync my ipod and give you the list of the top five songs that prove just how lame I am. Please feel free to list your top 5 most oft listened to songs as well. Hopefully your lists will give me some new songs to listen too and I'll finally be cool.

Our Second President

I thought it was just me and Chef. I thought we were the only big old geeks to love, and I mean LOVE, the HBO mini-series John Adams. But then award season came and Paul Giamatti and Laura Linny and others from the cast have been reaping the benefits. Really, please, see this. Rent it buy it steal it I don't care, JUST SEE IT. Do you need to borrow my copy of the DVDs? I'll ship it to you.

We bought and watched the series on DVD last summer. Hope was not the democratic nominee and merely a glimmer in our eyes and hearts. We plugged in John Adams and found ourselves yelling "THAT IS HOW YOU PRESIDENT!" at the TV.

Tom Wilkinson, playing the 18th century's answer to Bill Clinton, (both incredible statesmen, both shrewd politicians, both have a thing for the chubby girls) has received a few (well deserved) awards as well. And really, this will make you appreciate dirty old men even more than you did before.

And when Alexander Hamilton looks like this:

I mean, how can you really argue with me? Seriously, go watch this now. I'll wait here for your thanks and praise.

Continuing saga of Mooch & his wenis.

There is an Inuit tribe up near the Arctic Circle where the span of time that covers from approximately January 15th – February 20th is loosely translated as “the-month-that-is-so-cold-that-when-dogs-pee-they-pee-on-themselves.”

If only that were the case at casa de Mooch.

Mooch, as you will recall, had some wenis complications in 2007 that resulted in his chariot swinging low and Chef donning rubber gloves about 6 times a day to lube the old man. Mooch has since healed, his wenis stays well hidden in his furry undies and the gloves have since collected dust. But still on every walk, due to the pain our wallets continue to feel from the surgery, Chef and I make sure that Mooch takes a pee and the plumbing is still operative.

As I am sure the weather-man, or possibly the national news, has told you we here in the Midwest have fallen in to the 9th circle of Hell and are living along the banks of the Cocytus. The high today, the HIGH, was -5 degrees. With the wind from Lucifer’s wings, the wind-chill brought us down to -20 in some areas of the city. Mooch has let us know, in no uncertain terms, that this is an unacceptable temperature.

As Chef is home during the day, he gets the honor & the glory of walking the boys in the morning and early afternoon. With the recent cold, the walks have been very short to nonexistent as all three of them are insisting on peeing, “studying physics,” and running home; we haven’t made it off the block, let alone our side of the street, in over a week. Today it was so cold, one little puggy did his duty and ran inside. The next little puggy didn’t do anything outside, ran in and hit the pee-pad. Mooch, the third little puggy, didn’t do anything outside, nor inside. He came in from his walk and laid down. Chef wouldn’t have worried but the voice from the Care Credit card sang to him “Mooooochie has to pee! His wenis may be broken! Check his pipe snake!” Between the hours of 9am and 3pm, Chef took Poor Mooch out in to the cold seven times. And not once did he pee.

One time they went out, Mooch ran steaming down the sidewalk and jumped into a huge snowdrift and “studied physics.” He jumped out and ran for home. No pee. The next time, he showed some interest in spot where another dog had peed.

“Hey Guy, someone peed over there!” exclaimed Mooch as he dove in a snow bank.

Chef/Guy shook his head as he watched the old pug leap through the snow. Suddenly realizing that he was a) cold and b) up to his jowls in snow, Mooch looked up and Chef as if to say “Holy fuck! Guy, it is freezing! What the hell?! Get me out of here!” And they went home. And not once did he pee.

It was now 3pm and Mooch had not peed since 11pm the night before. That is 16 hours with out a whiz. For any dog (or person for that matter) this is not healthy, especially not for one that has had extensive surgery on the area. I consulted the good people over at pugs.com, but to no avail (really, the best anyone there could give me was “offer him a treat!”). Chef decided to call the vet and see what he should do…
“So he hasn’t peed in 16 hours you say?” asked the vet.

“Yeah,” said Chef, “I’m really getting worried.”

“It is a concern, the bacteria found in urine is not good when trapped in a warm bladder for so long, especially one that has had issues before,” said the vet confirming Chef’s fear.

“Okay, what can I do?”

The vet then went on to explain to Chef that he needed to get on the floor with Mooch and gently squeeze and apply pressure to Mooch’s bladder and wenis. Chef sighed a heavy sigh as he realized that this was once again his heft to bear.

Gallantly, Chef descended to the floor and firmly (but gently) applied pressure to Mooch’s bladder, and then his wenis.

Nothing.

Feeling that he was going to need a strong drink before getting back to servicing Mooch, Chef prepared a spot (two spots he insists) of tea. As the water began to boil, Chef noticed that Mooch had begun the dance of pee on the pee-pad near the kitchen door. Spinning like a whirling dervish looking for God, Mooch twirled the pee-pad in to a ball and then walked away. He walked over to one of the dog beds and lifted his leg. Fearing having to go outside to get to the laundry room should the bed become soaked with urine, in an amazing feat of strength and quick thinking Chef launched him self out of the kitchen, grabbed the ball of pee-pa, flung the dog bed out of the line of fire, and got the pad under Mooch just in the nick of time. Mooch snorted a sigh of relief as he emptied a lake on to the pee-pad and floor.

“Treats all around,” yelled Chef and the pee-party began! There was much dancing and rejoicing. And mopping. Much mopping. And then Mooch, so happy to have finally gone pee, curled up in the bed and fell asleep.

We took him out at 6pm for the evening walk. He didn’t pee.

He just looked at Chef and winked.

R.I.P.

"Ricardo Montalban, the Mexican-born actor who became a star in splashy MGM musicals and later as the wish-fulfilling Mr. Roarke in TV's "Fantasy Island," died Wednesday morning at his home, his family said. He was 88."

Ahh..kids...

"My wife would like that!"

Damn right she doesn't.

Happy New Year!

I know you are all waiting with bated breath wondering what it is that Boobarella & Chef did for New Year's Eve. Well, wait no longer! Chef spent two days making his highly praised and always delicious cassoulet. We brought it, along with some wonderful homemade pumpernickel over to our friends Jenn & Mark's home for a night of good food and good fun with good friends.

We enjoyed dinner with a couple of bottles of wine from the N.H.L. Signature Wine Series. A bottle of Bobby Hull Chardonnay and Tony Esposito Cabernet to be exact. The Cabernet was meaty and a nice accompaniment to the cassoulet and the Chardonnay tasted not like the inside of Gordy Howe's socks, but had a good buttery flavor with a citrus aftertaste.

I had asked Jenn for the bottles so I could take a picture of the labels (they were signed) and read what was on the back of the bottle. But this morning when I woke from my drunken haze I found something else all together in my bag. . .

While my brother suspects the mischievous specter of our grandmother was at work, none of my pictures are tilted in her usual manor and all of my salad dressing is still well within the range of edible. So that leaves one of three possibilities: 1) Jenn has no idea what to do with acorn squash and has decided to let Chef give it a try, 2) these were Chef's prizes for winning the card game (that Jenn & I totally had in the bag until Chef & Mark cheated somehow that I believe involved grape vodka - and they laughed at me for taking my cards with me to the loo) or 3) the bottles were in my bag, but they turned in to gourds when the clock struck midnight.

Wine, wine, wine. . .

and more wine.

I seem to be talking to myself these days, could be because everyone else has better things to do (be pregnant, play in SF, bake 900 doz. cookies), but I am on vacation until January 5th and I have some (8) wines to tell you about. So sit back and let me babble on.

Tortoise Creek Pinot Noir (France though they also have a winery in CA, $10). Got this one on sale from my wonderful PeaPod (groceries delivered, godloveit). It was a nice spicy/fruity wine (cherries?) and went very well with the Chef's lamb stew you see in that cute little bowl. It was a very snowy night so this was a wonderful meal to have while we watched it come down out there.

"Learning to Fly" (Chile, $9) is a 100% Carmenere wine. I was reading about this grape on a favorite blog and was surprised to find a bottle at my local wine shop later that night. It's not a flavor I have had before, but this has become a favorite in the house. Notes of pepper, cumin, and (Wingal, I shit you not) bacon. It's not overly dry nor is it the least bit sweet. It's a very suprisingly good wine for very little $$.

While a lot of you, my gentle readers, live in a more tropic climate, I do not envy you. Except when it is -35. That sucked. Holy crap was that cold.I don't know if I have ever been that cold. The Chef laughed and told stories of driving in -70 degrees (Ferienheit, not Kelvin),I scowled and snuggled under a blanket with two of the boys.

What we needed was a hot wine to drink while we were shivering and decorating the tree. We chose to mambo! "Hey Mambo!" (CA, $13) is a blend of a crap load of grapes (barbera, zinfandel, syrah, petite sirah, carigname, & alicante bouchet). It's spicy, just like something called "Hey Mambo" should be. Plenty of pepper and a smooth finish, we need to add this to the next PSSWR wine list. We also should invite the people who wrote the label over. There was some crazy Mickey Spillane like story on the bottle. The website describes one of the flavors in the wine as "sweet leather." Seriously sexy wine.

The next day was more of the same frigid hell. I think I see why the Vikings 1) drank so much, 2) left Sweden. Seriously, if this is what you looked outside (yes that is a ice floe you see) and saw you would either go back inside and drink til it was sunny, or leave.

I chose to drink more.

"Efe", a 2005 cabernet savignon (20%) monastrell (80%) blend from the Bodegas Los Frailes (Spain, $12) was good and, really let's face it, like most of the other wines I tend to buy. Fruity and dry, incredibly drinkable with that nice spicy after taste. The monastrell grape in this wine makes for a more cherry flavor than in most of the wines I bring home, but it wasn't over powering. Very good, but not excellent.

For an excellent, and I do mean excellent, Pinot Noir head to Oregon (or your wine shop) and get some of this:

"Cloudline" I paid $15 for the 2007, but I see that the 2006 & 2005 will run you $20+ if you can even find them as they appear to be "collectables". This Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley is amazing. Raspberries add to the soft somewhat sweet flavor. I see on a few websites that people said it had "faded by the next day" making me wonder why they didn't finish it the night before?

Christmas Eve, Chef prepared well seasoned duck, caesar salad, and homemade rosemary bread. I stopped on the way home and picked up another Pinot Noir, hoping for another bottle of the Cloudline. Instead, my local wine merchant suggested this one from the Yamhill Valley Vineyards (OR, $18).

A bit more than I chose to spend per bottle, but well worth it. The Estate Pinot Noir tastes cool and the slight tartness complemented the savoriness of the duck.

For Christmas dinner of beast roast in a scotch and mushroom sauce, we had a ridiculously dark red cabernet franc from France ($15). I'm sorry I don't have a picture of it, but it was the Frederic Mabileau Saint-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil Les Rouilleres. That's a mouthful, but so was the wine. Musky, woody, black cherries, tobacco. Wonderful.

Then, just as quickly as the cold came it was gone. And lo, it was 65 and we switched to gin.

I will end this obscenely long post with last night's wine, "Alaia" (Spain, $13).

I had been waffling between a few other bottles and this one was recommended to me by the loverly Irishman who works/owns the wine shop. I know that the Irish are not known for having the best palate (really between that and the rest of my Anglo Saxon roots, ketchup is sometimes too intense a flavor) but he was right about this one. Not amazing, but certainly different. 5% Merlot, 45% tempranillo, and 50% prieto picudo, it's a sweet wine. Not like Boones Farm, not at all. It's still dry but it's more of fig taste than any other fruit I can pin. Apparently the prieto picudo grape was thought to be lost, but some guys in Spain found it in an old lady's backyard and revived it.

So that's what I have been drinking this last month. I also finally had time to finish a book that I bought as the beginning of this past semester started, "State by State." It's a fantastic look at each state by fifty different authors not always associated with the state they were assigned. Some of the essays were horrid (California, Delaware), some were painfully beautiful (Idaho, Rhode Island), two were done as cartoons (Oregon, Vermont), and some were hilarious (Illinois, Massachusetts, New York). When you have a chance, I recommend picking it up. I had brought it with me to the lake house in October with the intentions of reading a goodly portion of it. I didn't get a chance to as I was helping Dad out and had suggested to my younger brother that he take a look at it. He read almost all of it by the time I left 3 days later.

Enough from me for now, though I suspect I will have more to say by tomorrow. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmas and that this next year will be merry & bright!

Happy Boxing Day!

Doin' it Elf style.

My ride home.

For the first time since we have lived here, I had the privilege of riding on the CTA Holiday Train. The most fun was watching people's faces as we pulled up to the various stops on the route home. We were met with either pure bouncing smiling joy from grown men & women, or horror and disgust.

To my neighbor scraping ice off his car at 5 am on Saturday

Good morning! I don’t know if you noticed or not, but it was 5am and on a Saturday when you spent that hour or so vigorously scraping, ney beating, ice off your car. I will ignore the fact that you are doing this simply because you probably have a job you have to get to and in this economy, well, hey I don’t want you to lose your job because you were late. But really kind sir, I must say your ice scraping was taking you forever and seems to have turned in to quite the laborious task. Being a native of the colder climates myself and a bit of student in the art of winter weather, might I offer this handy guide to getting that pesky ice off your car?

1) De-icing the car door: So you get to the car and find that you can’t open it. Take your key and warm it up in you hand, breathe on it if you have to. Slide your key around the seam of your door; this should move enough ice that you can open it up with a firm tug. Not too firm! We don’t want you falling backwards and breaking anything like your coccyx or your head! Coccyx is a fun word to say isn’t it? COCCYX! It’s like word a superhero would use to make his powers work. COCCYX! then BAM! the bad guys blow up.

2) Get in the car: I know, seems like an odd step, but here me out. Once you get in the car, turn it on, unless you are one of those bastards with keyless entry and start up, in which case you may have damaged your coccyx for no reason as you could have started the car up before trying to de-ice the door thereby saving you some time, troubles, and the injury to your coccyx.

Anyway, get in the car and turn it on. Turn the heat, the front window defroster, and the rear window defroster all on hot & high. While that is starting up and heating the car, you can look for your ice scraper, which is undoubtedly not where you think it is. Look in the backseat…not there? check in the glove compartment….I’ll wait while you riffle through that mess….not there either? Did you put in the trunk for some inexplicable reason? No? Are you sure? No, don’t bother to get out and look that would be silly. Well, I’m sure you are starting to sweat a little, but trust me all the heat blowing around in there is a good thing. Did you look under the driver seat? I know I had one that always ended up…oh good you found it! Actually while we’re talking about your ice scraper…

2a) Get a real ice scraper. No doubt, you are using one of those namby-pamby small plastic ice scrapers you get free from gas stations and insurance salesmen.

That thing is a waste of time and energy (not to mention a waste of valuable polypropylene, which is made from oil…so maybe you should hold on to it in case you need to melt it down for fuel later when the coming economic apocalypse hits).

What you want to get is one of these:

As you can see the expandable handle has a nice grip in the center allowing for more force and therefore allows for a more thorough ice removal. The handy brush on the other end is also far superior to those crappy plastic and wood things that will splinter when you hit them against the neighbor kids when they ice up the sidewalk. I hate those bastards too you know. See, something we have in common! Anyway, really spend the $ and get one of these nice scrapers, you won’t be sorry and you won’t lose it under the car seat. Or in that shame of a glove box; seriously was that a cheeseburger wrapper in there?

3) Crank up the tunes! Everyone needs good ice scraping music, so crank up the radio loud enough to be heard out side of the car with the windows closed and the engine running. I know, I know, I was complaining about the sound of your ice scraping and now I am telling you to turn up the music. Trust me, no one will hear it and if they do, they won’t mind that for the short period that it will be that loud.

4) Get scraping! Jump out of the car (slowly, be careful of that coccyx) and let’s get to work on that windshield! Assuming you still have that crappy one (and of course you do, I mean where would you go on foot because your car is still covered in ice at 5 am to buy a new better one?), using both hands grasp the ice scraper at the middle and the very end of the handle. This should give you the force necessary to remove the stubborn stuff. Starting at the top of the windshield, start pushing/scraping the ice in a diagonal direction toward the wipers. This should be relatively easy now that your heater and engine have melted much of the ice that was directly on the glass. Again, since you have that shitty scraper, use your arm to brush away any large chunks.

5) Don’t forget the mirrors and door windows! You may have to readjust the side mirrors, but really you will thank me for reminding you when you try to flip off the yahoo riding your ass only to find out it’s a cop. LOL, what am I saying! You’re a guy! You don’t use mirrors! Those are for pussies and girls!

But really do the door windows and not just a damned circle large enough for you to peer out off. It’s a car, not a sub, and those should not be used like a porthole.

6) The back window: By the time you get around to here, the ice should be just sliding down the window to the trunk. Again, just use your arm to brush the snow/ice off the car.

7) DONE! See how much easier that was than the torture you went through Saturday morning!?!

Now on your way home, go buy a real ice scraper. You’ll thank me later.

xoxo,

boobarella

BOCK BOCK BOCK!

WHAT A GREAT DAY FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY WINGAL!

Happy Thanksgiving!

While everyone was excited about the delicious dinner Larry had prepared, not everyone was as excited about Larry's choice in pants.

I Guess This Means Samantha Has to Be Pestilence

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Your Result: War   When the second seal is opened, you will ride forth on a red horse carrying a sword, unleashing war and destruction. Your mission is to take peace from the earth, so that man will kill one another. The color of your horse represents the blood spilled on the battlefield.
Famine
Pestilence
Death
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

does this mean I'm in charge?

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Your Result: Death   When the fourth seal is opened, you ride forth on a sickly pale green horse. You are the final horseman to be unleashed. You've been sent to bring forth fear, sickness and death. Your presence on earth will cause war and hunger. Hell itself follows close behind you.
Famine
Pestilence
War
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Quiz Created on GoToQuiz

Which Horseman are you?

Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Your Result: Famine When the third seal is opened, you ride forth on a black horse carrying scales to represent the injustice you will unleash. You bring starvation to the world, rendering essential foods unavailable while protecting luxury foods for the wealthy. Many will die, and wars will erupt over shortages of food.
War
Pestilence
Death
Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse Quiz Created on GoToQuiz