Thursday, December 14, 2006
MARK YOUR CALENDARS NOW...
My slot at the Fiddler's Dream 20th Anniversary weekend shows has been firmed up. The shows run Friday and Saturday, Jan 12 and 13, from 7-11, with a different performer every 20 minutes. I will be finishing the evening on Friday, from 10:40 to 11:00, right after Joe Bethancourt.
No pressure there.
The whole weekend will be full of great performers so you all need to be there.
------
Hannukah starts tomorrow night, and even though we're not very religous, it's one of those holidays that we "do." I think it's because it's not really all that religious. It's a traditional thing, another one of those holidays celebrated by Jews that can be described in three sentences: "They tried to kill us. They didn't. Let's eat."
It does allow for us to get together with Jan's sister's family, who we do like a lot. I can't say I like all of my siblings, but I do like Lisa and her husband Eric and their son (my nephew) Bennet, who actually had his head shaved for a HALLOWEEN COSTUME. Cool kid.
Latkes will be a-fryin' tomorrow night. I LOVE latkes. Also, Lisa's cooking dinner -- hot dogs and hamburgers on our Grill. Okay, THAT's not particularly Jewish or anything else but hey, I'm good!
------
I nearly burned our house down the other night, simply because I'm a guy.
Okay, the other day I'm in this Asian Market by our house. If you know me, you know that I am not afeared of strange food. I will boldly venture forth into restaurants with food from places I can't even find on a map to try the cuisine of Klopstockia, Freedonia or Azkaban. (A South African sandwich shop has been open in my neighborhood for months now; I need to get over there when they're open and try it.) Anyway, I'm in the store and I walk past an end counter with a pile of Vietnamese items on it. One is a packet of what looks to be tortillas with bananas stamped forcibly into it. The English translation says, "Banana Cracker." So I buy a pack.
I bring it home. I take one out. I take a bite. It tastes like bananas that have been fused to my wallet for a month.
I begin to think that maybe you're supposed to DO something with this before you eat it.
Jan and I both do some independent study on this stuff. Turns out it's bananas smooshed onto a wallet.
Not really. It's bananas smooshed onto a tortilla made out of tapioca!
Okay, so do you fry it? Bake it? Eat it raw?
Well, I finally find a website that explains what you're supposed to do with it: TOAST IT! Then break it up into pieces like a crackerized version of frozen Turkish Taffy.
So I pull out a sheet, pop it in the toaster oven, push the lever and wait.
Within minutes, the tapioca banana thingie is starting to smell pretty good. Smells like bananas in here.
Then, literally SECONDS after the bananas started to waft, smoke the color of burning bananas and tapioca starts spewing out of the toaster oven.
Being a guy, and more important, a guy with no knowledge of physics, I do what any guy would do: I OPEN THE DOOR OF THE TOASTER OVEN. Instantly, the internal workings of the toaster oven catch fire. Big ol' blaze in there. MUCH more smoke than before.
So, what does Mr. Guy do? Does he close the door, and let the fire burn itself out?
NO! He reasons that the way to stop the fire is to unplug the toaster oven. This of course, does nothing. Flames are leaping out of the front of the toaster oven. Finally, brainiac here remembers the last time he set the kitchen on fire; if he'd just put the damn TOP back on the pot...
...so I closed the door. Fire goes out, smoke continues to billow from the now trashed toaster oven.
Figuring my snack was probably moot, I don two oven mitts and head for the back door with the smoke-belching toaster oven. I figure I should get the damn thing out of the house before the smoke alarm goes off and scares the shit out of everybody...
AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...
Well, fuck that idea...
Undaunted, I head for the back door. I slide the door open, which I suddenly remember is a cue for our DOG to come running at 50,000 mph for an opportunity to BURST into the back yard to discover...he's in the back yard. So I damn near trip on the dog, and spill smoking toast crumbs on the rug by the door.
Forging ahead, I set the smoking, snack-destroying monster on the rocks off the patio. The dog, smelling BANANAS, immediately runs over to SNIFF THE VERY HOT TOASTER OVEN. He only does this ONCE, and then puts about 30 feet between him and the oven.
By now the entire family has come running out of their respective rooms, yelling, "WHERE'S THE FIRE?"
I'm yelling back, "THERE'S NO FIRE! I GOT IT!"
This is not good enough for wife and kids. "WHAT CAUGHT FIRE? WHAT'S ON FIRE!"
I follow back with the somewhat non-sequiturial "I was just doing what it said!"
Once the fans had been turned on to rid the house of banana smoke, Jan asked a question that hadn't occurred to me:
Jan: "How high did you have the toaster turned up?"
Me: "Uh...toaster level! I don't know!"
Jan: "You put a tapioca tortilla in a toaster and toasted it like a slice of rye bread?"
Me: "Uhhh...yeah."
Jan: "How do I ever leave you alone?"
We still have our house. Meanwhile, the toaster oven is still sitting out in the back yard snarling. Everyone's afraid of it.
Even the dog.
TT
My slot at the Fiddler's Dream 20th Anniversary weekend shows has been firmed up. The shows run Friday and Saturday, Jan 12 and 13, from 7-11, with a different performer every 20 minutes. I will be finishing the evening on Friday, from 10:40 to 11:00, right after Joe Bethancourt.
No pressure there.
The whole weekend will be full of great performers so you all need to be there.
------
Hannukah starts tomorrow night, and even though we're not very religous, it's one of those holidays that we "do." I think it's because it's not really all that religious. It's a traditional thing, another one of those holidays celebrated by Jews that can be described in three sentences: "They tried to kill us. They didn't. Let's eat."
It does allow for us to get together with Jan's sister's family, who we do like a lot. I can't say I like all of my siblings, but I do like Lisa and her husband Eric and their son (my nephew) Bennet, who actually had his head shaved for a HALLOWEEN COSTUME. Cool kid.
Latkes will be a-fryin' tomorrow night. I LOVE latkes. Also, Lisa's cooking dinner -- hot dogs and hamburgers on our Grill. Okay, THAT's not particularly Jewish or anything else but hey, I'm good!
------
I nearly burned our house down the other night, simply because I'm a guy.
Okay, the other day I'm in this Asian Market by our house. If you know me, you know that I am not afeared of strange food. I will boldly venture forth into restaurants with food from places I can't even find on a map to try the cuisine of Klopstockia, Freedonia or Azkaban. (A South African sandwich shop has been open in my neighborhood for months now; I need to get over there when they're open and try it.) Anyway, I'm in the store and I walk past an end counter with a pile of Vietnamese items on it. One is a packet of what looks to be tortillas with bananas stamped forcibly into it. The English translation says, "Banana Cracker." So I buy a pack.
I bring it home. I take one out. I take a bite. It tastes like bananas that have been fused to my wallet for a month.
I begin to think that maybe you're supposed to DO something with this before you eat it.
Jan and I both do some independent study on this stuff. Turns out it's bananas smooshed onto a wallet.
Not really. It's bananas smooshed onto a tortilla made out of tapioca!
Okay, so do you fry it? Bake it? Eat it raw?
Well, I finally find a website that explains what you're supposed to do with it: TOAST IT! Then break it up into pieces like a crackerized version of frozen Turkish Taffy.
So I pull out a sheet, pop it in the toaster oven, push the lever and wait.
Within minutes, the tapioca banana thingie is starting to smell pretty good. Smells like bananas in here.
Then, literally SECONDS after the bananas started to waft, smoke the color of burning bananas and tapioca starts spewing out of the toaster oven.
Being a guy, and more important, a guy with no knowledge of physics, I do what any guy would do: I OPEN THE DOOR OF THE TOASTER OVEN. Instantly, the internal workings of the toaster oven catch fire. Big ol' blaze in there. MUCH more smoke than before.
So, what does Mr. Guy do? Does he close the door, and let the fire burn itself out?
NO! He reasons that the way to stop the fire is to unplug the toaster oven. This of course, does nothing. Flames are leaping out of the front of the toaster oven. Finally, brainiac here remembers the last time he set the kitchen on fire; if he'd just put the damn TOP back on the pot...
...so I closed the door. Fire goes out, smoke continues to billow from the now trashed toaster oven.
Figuring my snack was probably moot, I don two oven mitts and head for the back door with the smoke-belching toaster oven. I figure I should get the damn thing out of the house before the smoke alarm goes off and scares the shit out of everybody...
AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...AAARRRRNKK...
Well, fuck that idea...
Undaunted, I head for the back door. I slide the door open, which I suddenly remember is a cue for our DOG to come running at 50,000 mph for an opportunity to BURST into the back yard to discover...he's in the back yard. So I damn near trip on the dog, and spill smoking toast crumbs on the rug by the door.
Forging ahead, I set the smoking, snack-destroying monster on the rocks off the patio. The dog, smelling BANANAS, immediately runs over to SNIFF THE VERY HOT TOASTER OVEN. He only does this ONCE, and then puts about 30 feet between him and the oven.
By now the entire family has come running out of their respective rooms, yelling, "WHERE'S THE FIRE?"
I'm yelling back, "THERE'S NO FIRE! I GOT IT!"
This is not good enough for wife and kids. "WHAT CAUGHT FIRE? WHAT'S ON FIRE!"
I follow back with the somewhat non-sequiturial "I was just doing what it said!"
Once the fans had been turned on to rid the house of banana smoke, Jan asked a question that hadn't occurred to me:
Jan: "How high did you have the toaster turned up?"
Me: "Uh...toaster level! I don't know!"
Jan: "You put a tapioca tortilla in a toaster and toasted it like a slice of rye bread?"
Me: "Uhhh...yeah."
Jan: "How do I ever leave you alone?"
We still have our house. Meanwhile, the toaster oven is still sitting out in the back yard snarling. Everyone's afraid of it.
Even the dog.
TT
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