Derby/Mothers Day Grits

[This image is from the South Carolina Grits festival, from the popular "Rolling in the Grits" competition. The recipe below could theoretically be adapted? Let me know.]


Several of you asked for the Grits recipe I make every year for Easter -- the same grits I usually make for Derby and/or Mother's Day.

Adjust the quantities to suit your crowd.

-Roast a whole head of garlic until the cloves slide out like butter.
-Whip up a few egg whites.
-Grate whatever hard cheeses you have on hand (for Easter, it was Manchego).

Prep the grits according to the package instructions.

Squeeze the garlic cloves into the grits.
Stir in real butter, real sour cream, whatever cheese you grated.

Kosher Salt and pepper to taste (grits REALLY eat salt; you may need more than you think. Depending on the cheese.)

Then lightly fold in the egg whites.

Fold into a souffle dish.

Shave a little cheese on top.

Bake at 350 till it puffs.

Yes We Can

Yes, to answer every one's question this week: I am upset with the Obamas for not going with a shelter/rescue dog/puppy.

Yeah. I said it. And save the Hate, cause I'm not backing down.

To be fair: he didn't promise he would. I watched carefully and what he said initially was that a shelter/rescue would be their "preference" and outlined their hypoallergenic household needs, as a potential disclaimer. But I was hopeful they'd do the right thing.

They then did their breed research -- which made me optimistic. (Points for ruling out those hypoallergenic Imitation yappers too.) Everyone should be so thorough.

That was our job as kids -- all pets and livestock had to be duly researched and vetted before they were added to the family. And this was back before the Internets, when I had to use actual encyclopedias. If you can imagine. Like an Animal.

And so we became a family of St. Bernards, beagles, and later Mastiffs.

My own house was then later populated by mastiffs and Pyrenees. (Big dogs. Big joys. Unfortunately not known for long lifespans.)

I've worked with Mastiff Rescue; Pyrenees Rescue; sat on the Board of one Animal Sanctuary; and avidly support two local Humane Societies. I aggressively support Adoption/Spay/Neuter and if ANY of that interests you, I will personally hook you up.

This isn't a research treatise (though I've written a few), I'll just say it's a Myth to think if you have your heart set on a particular breed that Rescue isn't an option.

Humane Societies and Rescue organizations will work TIRELESSLY to match you with the breed that's right for you (or any imaginable array of assorted mutts and mixes, if that's your preference).

I hope that's a myth the Obamas didn't perpetuate.

Worse than that, the women on the View (including the one who doesn't believe in Evolution) expressed their perceived solidarity with the Obamas because maybe THEY wouldn't trust some unknown Shelter dog around their OWN kids. That is NOT what the Obamas said. It's just what one idiot said in response (an idiot who claimed she didn't know if the earth was round or flat).But she's an idiot with a microphone, in front of a camera. It made me (almost) hope a Dingo eats her babies. Or at least that she comes down with a nice case of the Mange. (As if supporting puppy mills somehow protects their kids? Idiots.)

And that's just ONE example of ignorance and misinformation that the Obama Decision (inadvertently to be sure) set off.

The thing is, the fish rots from the head.

Here was an opportunity to set a GREAT example (amid many, many others -- LOVE the locavore garden! And I am ALL about Sleeveless.) but this was an opportunity missed.I'm disappointed.

And a little irritated that the whole thing was orchestrated as a gift from a dying Kennedy cause hey, what could be MORE above reproach than that? And I'm sorry, but the fact that Bo "failed" in a few homes before the White House does not make him a Rescue.

God knows I am no fan of Oprah, but even I had to give the devil her due when she recently adopted two shelter dogs (one died of Parvo, which is how my own first attempt at a grown-up adoption ended when I was in grad school. That was Quentin, a sweet little Lab mix, and she didn't dissuade me from adoption/rescue.)
I don't normally think it's a GOOD thing that Oprah outranks the President and everyone else when it comes to influence.

But on JUST this ONE issue, I'm givin it up to her and saying: do as Oprah does.

And that's maybe what stings most of all.

What am I Wearing?

"What are you wearing?" is a question I get sometimes... Text. Facebook. Twitter. Usually about 2 in the morning.

So one day this week I posted the answer: wifebeater; a Southeastern KY Homebuilders Association T-Shirt; a band sweatshirt; a United Way baseball cap; and shorts.

I got up that morning and randomly pulled stuff off the magic chair. I stopped when the Magic Chair was empty.

I'd like to say I had enough sense to stay inside at least, but I went to Disco Kroger like that too -- and I'm pretty sure strangers tried to give me money.

FB Friend Kelly just insisted I not take a roadtrip looking like that. I needed to represent.

Don't think she'd want me on tour today either: swimsuit top + boxers + a Roark Meats trucker cap.

Adult On Demand

I hate the way Insight has split up my movie channels and stuffed (so to speak) a roster of "Adult" Channels in between. It's now an annoying scroll from Starz to HBO.

But sometimes it's kinda funny to read the offerings and play: Porn, Not Porn?

Today's lineup:
LMN: What Makes a Family?

SUND: Poison Friends.

CHILL: Beauty & the Beast.

ENCWA: That Thing You Do.

ENCD: Men Don't Leave.
ENCM: Hostage Hotel.

STZE: Ernest Scared Stupid.

STZC1: Swingers.

JENNA: Taste Every Drop.

FRESH: 1st Time Lesbos.

XCESS: Booty Girls Wanna Cracker?

InPPV: Hot Pink TV: Young, Naked

And finally back to HBO: Baby Mama.

In Print

You can see the new column in print on page 14 of this week's Ace issue.

CBS Cares (?)

Here is Dave Barry's account of his colonoscopy (sent by Linda)

Here is the YouTube video of the "CBS Cares" uh... promotion (sent by Mare) to enter a "colonoscopy sweepstakes"?

"You Got Spunk. I hate spunk. "

[Points for ID-ing the headline source.  Your hint is above.]

"Live long. Die Fast."
--Dr. Oz

I'm no fan of Katie Couric. Perky's definitely not my thing. I'll give it up to her tho for airing her colonoscopy several years back, after her husband died of colon cancer. Sure it was kinda tasteless. And sure, everybody made fun of her. But both my grandmothers died long, hideous, needlessly gruesome deaths of colon cancer, so I'm all for anything that bumps up the research funding and awareness -- and definitely screening.

So, this morning was my first solid meal in a week: yogurt and a banana. It tasted good in the same way even sand would taste good if you spent long enough wandering the desert.

As much as I'd love to practice what I preach, I didn't go in for a routine screening colonoscopy. I only had one because of recurring pain, and only after my doc ran out of easier organs to test, like kidneys and ovaries.

I was only able to have one at all because I found a doc who would prescribe a pill-prep instead of the usual two-to-four liter "Lyte" drink that tastes like liquified Pez with a salty sulphur chaser.

Between him, and Facebook, I was able to get a pretty accurate picture of what I was in for. A LOT of people did recommend vodka prep, but that didn't sound quite right. One particularly long discussion thread prompted my friend Mare to chime in, "Never did I think THIS is the part of your anatomy I'd be reading about on Facebook." I told her Facebook is WAY better than WebMD.

What I learned online mostly came from the Dave Barry column everyone thoughtfully emailed me. I'm not a fan of scatological humor (which everyone SHOULD know by now) but I took it to heart when he said once your body has eliminated everything consumed in the LAST two weeks, it then time travels into the future and begins eliminating food you haven't even yet THOUGHT of eating.

That didn't sound like a pleasant prospect to me, so I started early. Two weeks ahead, I cut out red meat (seriously, you don't even WANT to know how long that stuff stays in your system, but suffice to say, it pretty much has to rot its way thru).I remain the devoted-yet-moderate carnivore I've always been, and I hope I never again have to endure two weeks without bacon.

Ten days out, I switched to a "low-residue diet." That basically means: White Food. Potatoes. Rice. Bread. Pasta. Oprah woulda been in heaven -- it's all the stuff she says Bob Greene won't let her eat. Honestly, I've never felt WORSE. Yuck. I had no energy. My blood sugar went haywire. I was cranky ALL the time (maybe it wasn't the food but that's my story and I'm sticking to it). And I went to bed everynight with visions of brussel sprouts and spinach -- my usual favorite foods -- dancing in my head.

About three days out, I just gave up eating and/or lost the will to live. I'm not sure which.Broth.Jell-O.GreenTea. And the nefarious Crystal Lite. Of course I infused the broth with a bouquet garni of garlic, basil, and thyme. C'mon. I'm not an ANIMAL.

It worked. The worst part of the whole thing was drinking all that damn Crystal Lite.

As for the next day, only the IV was awful.(If they wouldn't narrate the part about the veins rolling and running, I would be much less likely to throw up.)

The test itself is exactly what everybody will tell you: Nothing. The last thing I remember is the nurse prying the BlackBerry gently outta my hand and saying, "I'm just putting your cellphone with your clothes under the gurney" to which I responded, "ish not a shellphone, it's a BlackB..."zzzzz.

I remember the drugs really hurt those first few seconds when they hit the IV. The last time I had those, the Nurse told me "your arm will feel a little warm" and my response was "it feels like a thousand bumble bees stinging me from the inside out." The doc said "THAT's a new one." And my stepsister Lisa said later "Perhaps you are just unaccustomed to patients as articulate as my sister."

Admittedly, it only stings for a few seconds. Then you get a few more seconds to contemplate how and why heroin addicts become addicts after all because this is pretty nice and maybe it is perfectly reasonable to knock over a liquor store...And then you pass out. At some point, I asked the nurse what I was getting (I wanted to know, for my file, in case it made me sick later, which it did) and she somewhat condescendingly replied "oh all kinds of good stuff." I felt like telling her my office is WAY downtown and there are probably far more pharmaceutical experts at the bus stop outside my door there than she sees in a week of sales reps parading through with their garish plastic earrings matching their plastic shoes.

But I didn't.I could tell she didn't like me. (In my defense, she wasn't getting my best side.) And an air bubble's an easy thing to pull off.

The only other bad part was dragging my poor college roommate outta bed at 5 am to chauffeur me around and then babysit me all day. I'm sure it isn't the first time she may have cursed the Dean for randomly pairing us up 25 years ago according to last names.

She said later the Nurse probably thought we were "life partners" because she was thoughtfully patting me on the head when I came out of the anesthetic -- the Nurse just didn't realize it was more like this presented an unusual opportunity to poke a badger with a spoon.Nobody would ever think of patting me when I'm awake.

She took me home and let me watch The View and MarthaStewart and bought me potato chips -- inexplicably, the only thing that sounded good to me. And she called all the Usual Suspects for me and told em the doc removed a couple polyps (which should be asymptomatic, but which I think are the culprits since they were sitting RIGHT where the pain has been all along -- and that spot hurt like an MF all DAY after they got the axe).

I remained convinced if I didn't follow doctor's orders she would post the whole procedure on YouTube.

I woke up later to a text from my pal Mare who always knows just the right thing to say. It read, more or less, "I knew Katie Couric. I've watched Katie Couric. And you ma'am, you are no Katie Couric."

Still kinda hurts when I laugh.