This would explain things

Oh my little girl. My little, EXPENSIVE Rikki. 

Sure, I knew owning a dog would cost a lot of money--you are taking care of a living being, after all.  The food, toys, leashes, etc.  And the all obliterating vet fees.  Like with Bunni (our first pug) and her multiple UTIs.  But Rikki has put her sister to shame in the health department. I feel like little and big things keep popping up with this monster.  Not all of them required a vet visit, but let's go through a quick rundown.

The day I pick her up, the breeder informs me she has a hot spot. Fine. No biggie.

The day I pick her up, I notice that she has a wonky rib, probably because she broke it a long time ago and it healed funny. Fine, no biggie. Oh except that every single person who touches it asks about it with an accusing look like *we* broke it, on *purpose* or something.

Before we get a chance to have her spayed, she went into heat.  HEAT.  She proceeds to bleed all over the place for about a month.  My poor sister and brother-in-law got stuck with the bleeding heat pug while we traipsed off to Bali.  They did come up with the cutest MacGyver-ed diapers for her, though.

 Why the pirate eye, Rikki? Don't give your auntie any stink-eye, you're the one bleeding all over the house.

Turned out she has pigmentary keratitis on her eyes, a scarring on the cornea common to pugs that can lead to blindness, requiring multiple vet visit and prescriptions for eye ointment.

She picked up a tapeworm somewhere, which we realized after Kevin saw what looked like a little grain of rice crawling around her nether region. Yeah, GROSS.  Another vet visit, and meds for both dogs.

We got her spayed.  At our very convenient but expensive nearby vet, the cost is about $350-400, including a teeth cleaning (the dog is under so why not scrape the plaque off). Fine. But we go into pick her up and are informed that she had to have some teeth pulled.  Fine. I expected this because when we got her I noticed that some of her teeth, especially the bottom row in the front, were in horrible shape. Like, discolored, obviously loose, and probably decaying.  So she had some teeth pulled. Or to be more exact, 8 of them, almost all from the offensive bottom front row.

If it isn't obvious, Rikki is on the left, showing the gaping hole between her lower canines. Toothless wonder.

What I wasn't expecting? The bill. One thousand dollars.  I practically fainted.

Upon bringing the little money-suck home, I begin to look at one of her habits in a new, we-just-spent-$1000-on-your-teeth kind of light.  Rikki, in what we used to think was one of the most adorable poses ever, likes to fall asleep with a plush toy wedged in her mouth.

Yes, she likes to cradle this bacteria-laden toy in her teeth.  Have another look.

Yeah, right where her lower teeth used to be. I have a feeling this "cute little habit" of hers contributed to her dental issues.

Right after taking these photos, the toy was gently wrenched away from her mouth.

What to do with Leftover Celery

Folks, before I start this post, you should just know that I've realized that I can't post about anything other than pugs and food. If you were expecting more, I guarantee you will be disappointed so you can stop following my blog now. I won't be offended.

So you know how most recipes which call for any celery only use "1 stalk" or "2 stalks"? So annoying, considering that celery is sold by the head, and sometimes in packages of two heads.  For years I've thrown away the limp, rotting remainders of celery heads that I had kept in hopes of...something, only to give up because I never did get around to making 18,000 batches of spaghetti sauce, which would have used up all the celery.  Chowhound has some suggestions as to what to do with leftover celery, but I wanted a real recipe that wasn't just a salad (although that is a very good idea).

Then the other day I was watching Lidia's Italy and saw a perfect solution for all that celery! The episode was about sauteed chicken with olives (which was super yummy by the way) and a side of braised celery with onions and tomato sauce.  Unfortunately, for whatever reason, her website fails to list the recipe for the braised celery and I couldn't find it anywhere online (although I did find someone else also despairing that they couldn't find the recipe).

I remembered the basics, though, and forged ahead blind.  I used:

• two heads of celery hearts (this is just what they had at the supermarket and they are lopped off short, but you could also use one whole head with the leaves still attached), minus 2 measly stalks for whatever recipe for which you originally purchased the celery
• 3 garlic cloves, crushed
• 1 medium onion, sliced
• 14.5 oz can tomato sauce or whole peeled tomatoes which have been pureed
• TBS tomato paste (optional) 

Prep your celery.  Trim of root ends and dry tops, cut into about 4 inch pieces, and wash thoroughly.  Split lengthwise any pieces that are particularly thick so that all the pieces are about the same size.  I also took the extra step of peeling the outer threads from the celery because Lidia told me to, but this is probably unnecessary and I wouldn't bother with if you don't feel like it. 

In a saucepan, saute the garlic with olive oil.  I also chopped up some garlic scapes because I had some leftover (not necessary). 

When garlic becomes lightly browned, toss in the sliced onion and saute until translucent (you're not trying to brown it--although if you do it's not like you'll go to hell or anything).

This is where I get a little hazy on what she did.  But I'll tell you what I did--I stirred in the celery, added a little water (about 1/4 to 1/2 cup), lowered the heat, covered the pan, and simmered for about 10 minutes (I could be totally wrong about that), until the celery is fairly limp.

When the celery is a bit limp, I put in about a TBS of tomato paste and the canned tomatoes.  Stir, then cover the pan and simmer for about 5-10 minutes.  Mine was looking a little watery so as a final step I uncovered and simmered for about 10 minutes to thicken the sauce.

I served it with the chicken, and potatoes roasted in duck fat.

I know, that doesn't look like chicken. I used a medley of olives, and didn't get a nice brown crust on the chicken which is okay because it was juicy and succulent throughout, although I'm confused about what I did wrong with the recipe. God that's a pretty funny picture of chicken.  The chicken is from Grazin' Angus, if anyone is curious--they sell them at some NYC farmers' markets and it is damn good chicken.

Here's what we drank with it. I chose this because I thought the richness of it would play well against the sweetness of the chicken, but that it had enough acidity to match the olives.  No I'm kidding I didn't know any of that, that's just what the wine store guy told me. He was right!

Ta-da!

Waiting-For-Him Dinner

Do you and your significant other eat dinner together?  I think we all know it's supposed to be a good thing and quality time, especially with kids yada yada, but it can be tough.

Kevin works a lot later than I do--I'm home by 6:30 p.m., and he gets home about 3 hours later. Bummer.  So what to do about dinner?  Do I starve myself and wait for him, only to greet him as he walks through the door by throwing food in the general direction of his mouth with one hand and using the other to stuff my own mouth frantically yelling "Let's eat! Let's eat! NOW!!!"?  Or do I go ahead and eat by myself, and then bear his sad eyes that say "Oh, you ate without me? Oh, that's nice that you got to eat. I didn't. Wait did you say something? I can't tell because my stomach is grumbling so loudly."?

I've come to a kind of "compromise", which is decidedly not good for me.  I have a mini-dinner before he gets home.  For example, sometimes I'll pick up some snacks from the little Italian cured meats/cheese place around the corner, and pour myself a cocktail or a glass of wine.  Behold my mid-evening mini-dinner.

Vodka cocktail with sparkling pomegranate juice, cooked Parma ham, Taleggio cheese, and prosciutto puffs.  I like to have variety.

As you can probably tell, NOT SO HEALTHY.  While I don't polish off all of the above, I do have enough that more than fulfills my sodium RDA--and probably the fat RDA also. So sometimes my whole mini-dinner concept works against me and, feeling guilty, I forego eating dinner with Kevin anyway or just have a smidgen. 

Sadly, even when Kevin and I do eat dinner together at home, we have a really bad (but from what I understand, common to many of us) habit of eating dinner on the couch in front of the TV.  We have a full-fledged dining table, but we don't even eat there.  Oh what a sad commentary on the dynamics of modern couples in a TV and work-driven world.

On the other hand, after such a long day for Kevin, I think the last thing he wants to do is come home and immediately use his brain to make small talk with me.  I don't mind waiting an hour or so for him to decompress before ushering in "quality time". That or I just want to watch my trashy TV in peace. 

What kind of dinner routine do you have?

Fava Bean Crostini

I always thought of fava beans as a spring thing, but for some reason they've been popping up at our farmers' markets the past few weekends. Weird. Anyway, Kevin loves fava beans. And I am his slave, so I cook up whatever he chooses at the farmers' market.  Kidding. Kind of. Don't get me started about the time he bought 10 lbs of cauliflower.

We both like the ritual of prepping the fava beans together. It's kind of meditative, and a fun little task to do together.  If you haven't cooked with fava beans before, there are a few steps.  The fava beans are enclosed in not only a pod, but each one is also robed in a thin layer of shell that needs to be removed.  

The beans, in their shells, in the pods

These are multi-layered, complex creatures

See what I mean?

The shell needs to be removed also

In order to remove the thin shell, you have to: (1) remove beans (which are still in shells, obviously) from their pods; (2) boil beans for 60-90 seconds; (3) drain beans and put in cold water bath to stop cooking; (4) drain; and (5) peel off the shell.  

Re: step #5: Someone taught me that the easiest way to peel off the shell was to make a little tear at the "bottom" of the bean--NOT the end where it was attached to the pod, which seems like the intuitive thing to do.  Be all counter-intuitive and pinch a little hole in the bottom, and gently squeeze the opposite end until the naked, bright green bean pops out.  I didn't take pictures of this process, but this person did:

See how someone created a whole at the "bottom", instead of where the little green cap is at the top, where it originally connected to the pod? I am beleaguering the point.

Remember those fava beans we purchased?  I decided to make fava bean crostini with our precious bounty.  Here are the ingredients:

• 1 cup shelled fresh fava beans (1 1/4 pounds in pods)
• 1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus additional for drizzling
• 1 1/2 cups packed baby arugula (1 1/2 ounces), divided
• 3 tablespoons grated Pecorino Toscano or Parmigiano-Reggiano
• 1/4 teaspoon grated lemon zest
• 1/2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• 1 baguette
• 1 garlic clove, halved crosswise
• 16 mint leaves

Note: I only had a few leaves of arugula, and COMPLETELY did not see the mint part.  Oops. I bet that would have been good, but oh well.

Place the cooked, deshelled beans in a food processor.

Pulse until coarsely chopped, and then remove half of chopped beans.  To the remaining half of chopped beans in the food processor, add the rest of the ingredients. (Note below my few measly arugula leaves and complete absence of mint leaves.)

Take processed mixture and fold into the chopped beans you had set aside earlier.

The recipe says to toast baguette slices and rub with olive oil and garlic, but we had just gotten this nutty glorious brown bread from Cayuga Pure Organics at the farmers' market so we used that instead.  I'm sure the flavor of the bean puree would have come through more clearly on plain baguette slices, but c'est la vie it was still yummy.

Ta-da! Satisfying little snack.

Junk, This Time on TV

In the mornings, before we go to work, there is a hierarchy and sequence of TV shows that we have on while we go about getting ready.  Kevin gets up first. WAY first (as in, hours before me).  He, like the intellectually engaged, knowledgeable, and geeky person that he is, will flip the channel (from Bravo, which is probably what I had on the night before) to Bloomberg.  I know, who watches Bloomberg.  He doesn't even work in finance.

Source

wait a second, oh NOW I see why he watches Bloomberg

There's only so much Bloomberg I can take, so after I wake up (if it happens to be before he leaves), we compromise and watch NY1, a local news channel.  Great local news, weather every 5 minutes or so, and some fun segments--so I feel all informed, but not nearly as sophisticated as if I willingly watched Bloomberg.

Source

For a while, I watched the Today Show.  While fun, the Today Show is super duper fluffy.  I stopped watching after one too many silly segments, Ann Curry trying too hard to look earnest and Al Roker pissing me off.  Although I really like Meredith. She seems great.

Source

After Kevin leaves, oh after he leaves, then I indulge.  If I'm behaving and feeling like a responsible citizen, I'll keep it on NY1.  But lately I've been flipping to Food Network, which before 10am shows....INFOMERCIALS! Yaaaayy!!!  I know, you're embarrassed for me. Me too.  I love infomercials dealing with beauty, fitness, cleaning and kitchen gadgets. Too much fun.  I totally get sucked in, just like they want me to.  They are geniuses, and  I am their prime target audience.  Well, to a degree.  I don't actually buy things, but I have watched the same infomercials multiple times. I find it soothing.  My favorites?

Source

The ubiquitous BareMinerals or bareMinerals or Bare Escentuals or whatever it's called.  I could watch Leslie, the CEO, hawk these all friggin' day and watch makeover after makeover.

Source

The Wen hair care system is a relatively new one (that or I haven't been up on my infomercial-watching enough) and it's the whole sulfate free/no shampoo thing except that this is a "Hair Care System".  When I looked up the details it tells you to use, like, 20 pumps from the bottle for each shower. What the? So I have to buy one every week? Sneakies.

Insanity Workout

I admit I was fascinated by this the first couple of times I saw it--all that sweat and muscles and ripped bodies--but I can't watch it anymore because it makes me all the more keenly aware that I am sitting on a couch, not working out. And I don't like feeling guilty.

Source 

I have gotten sucked into watching the Shark Steam Cleaner infomercial a few times, but I'm a bit disappointed. I keep hoping the 'mercial will get better and the guy less annoying but it doesn't happen.  I leave this on when I'm desperate.

Do you like how I criticize the Today Show as fluffy and then go on to list the infomercials I enjoy?  I know, I know, hypocrite. 

Hm, I think I hear Kevin sending me loud and clear psychic messages that it's time for me to stop embarrassing myself.

But before I go, any favorite infomercials or guilty TV pleasures you'd like to share?

Desperation Junky Snacks

For all that talk about eating local, fresh produce, I still love me some junk food. I also love me some foodstuff that I'm going to call Desperation Junky Snacks.

I think we've all been there--you've had a really long day at work or school, maybe you've eaten some dinner, maybe you haven't, but you're feeling the munchies.  There is practically nothing to eat in the house, and you are too damn tired to go grab something from the corner store.  So enter the Desperation Junky Snack. This is a level going beyond continually dipping your hand into your cereal box and munching and crunching away--these are the snacks for which you have to think a little outside of the box, and those which maybe you are a little embarrassed to admit that you've eaten.

I remember hearing about a popular DJS for some college students--unboiled dried ramen noodles with the flavoring packet sprinkled on top.  Yeah, that's the kind of DJS I'm talking about.  It's like, you have some food that with some effort could be "real" food, but you're feeling too lazy and junky, so you indulge in an iteration that possibly sounds disgusting to other people, but only because they haven't *been there* and get what you're talking about.

Source

Dude, you need to put some seasoning on there

I have to admit I haven't tried the raw ramen thing (am I missing out? let me know), but here are a few winners that I came up with in law school.

One of the least offensive DJS that I enjoyed on a regular and far-too-frequent basis:  I had chocolate chips. I had peanut butter.  You know where this is going.  I would pour chocolate chips into a bowl, plop down a few spoonfuls of peanut butter in there (crunchy type was best), mix it up, and enjoy. Repeat.  Actually, this is kind of a haute DJS--like a Reese's Butter Cup, deconstructed.  Anyway, it was awesome.

Kind of like this 

(except my own "recipe" was lighter on the pb and higher on the cc)

My more embarrassing and completely creative-less DJS: I had cream cheese. I had crackers.  Forget the crackers.  I would go in the fridge, unwrap the cream cheese, cut off a 1/4 inch sliver, and munch away.  Feeling a little horrified with myself, I would go back to the couch.  After a few minutes, the munchies would return. I would go back to the fridge, cut off another 1/4 inch slice, and chew away.  And repeat.  

See, it wouldn't have been nearly the same thing if I had just put a block of cream cheese on a plate and forked through it, with the whole thing in front of me. I mean, that's disgusting. Yeah, totally.  Making at least 5-10 visits to the fridge to cut off 1/4 inch slivers was how to do it--it was all about the *shame* and *desperation*, you know? Like I *knew* I was doing something totally wrong but I couldn't stop myself.

Source

I know what you're thinking, you're thinking mmm doesn't that look just deeleeshoouuss!  Well yes, it is.  

I'll try to think of others, but until then, and good DJS you've succumbed to?

NOT a summer night dinner

The other night I went with my friend to eat at Casellula, a small plates and wine bar which serves a most delicious creation call the Pig's Ass Sandwich.  Oh holy yum.  We also shared a bottle of sparkling rose on that 100 degree day.  Perhaps it was a combination of the heat and the bubbly, but I somehow thought that walking home a mile in the heat (I just checked the distance on Google but I swear it felt like 5 miles), and then decided it was absolutely necessary to cook a meal so that we would have leftovers for lunch. Couldn't leave well enough alone, could I?

I've been on a tofu kick and decided to make pan fried tofu with Chinese black bean sauce.  I doubled the recipe, but the measurements below are for a single recipe.

• 1-pound block of extra-firm tofu
• 4 garlic cloves
• 1-inch chunk of fresh ginger
• 2 tablespoons Chinese fermented black beans (I didn't have this so I just used my jarred Black Bean and Garlic Sauce)
• 11/2 cups water
• 4 tablespoons soy sauce
• 3 tablespoons Sherry (dry or sweet)
• 1 tablespoon maple syrup
• 2 teaspoons cider vinegar
• 1 1/2 tablespoons cornstarch
• vegetable oil

I also added: 

• 4 small or 2 big heads of broccoli, stalks peeled and chopped, florets chopped (for a double recipe)

Cut the tofu into fairly hefty chunks. I sliced each block lengthwise in two long pieces, and then crosswise into six pieces, for a total of 12 pieces from each block.  Since you are going to be pan-frying these, you want to get out the excess moisture.  I put layers of paper towels (I'm sorry, trees) in a pan, laid out the tofu, covered the tofu with more layers of paper towels (the Ents must hate me), place a pan on top, and weigh it down to squish out the moisture.

When you chop up your broccoli, don't forget the stems! They are my favorite part.  Just peel them and chop, along with the florets. Set aside--this will be cooked last.

It looks like I beheaded an Ent. I'm going to hell.

In a food processor (or with a knife), grind together the garlic and ginger.

In a bowl, mix together the wet ingredients and the cornstarch.  I doubted whether the cornstarch would dissolve properly in such a big vat of liquid so I took about a 1/2 cup of liquid out into a measuring cup and stirred the cornstarch into that.

I ask you, what says Chinese food more so than maple syrup and apple cider vinegar?

Hm, why am I telling you how to make this when I posted a link to the recipe?

But since I've started...this is what it looks like after you saute the garlic-ginger mixture, with the liquids and cornstarch brought to a simmer. Set aside.

Now here's the really really fun thing to do on a 100 degree night--stand over a stove and fucking fry tofu, gingerly checking and turning over without crumbling the blocks for that perfect degree of golden color, while the oil splatters all over you, constantly for about 30 minutes because you decided to double the motherf'in recipe.

After the inferno step, turn to husband and tell him how much he should appreciate you.  Put the broccoli into the pan where you had fried the tofu, and toss with some of the liquid and water.  Cover with lid or foil (my skillet doesn't have a lid) and steam for about 10 minutes, or until it gets to the consistency that you like.

Serve sauce, broccoli and tofu on top of rice.  Please note that I first thought there must have been a mistake in the recipe because of the gigantic amount of sauce that was produced.  I used it sparingly with it when preparing the lunches (example below), and had a ton leftover.  What you should really do is drown the stuff in the sauce--I think it's meant to be a very saucy dish. Saucy and sassy.  Remember it was mostly water.  Whatever--just be more generous than what you see below.

I know this picture is really appealing and makes you want to go out RIGHT NOW and buy the ingredients, yes?  Nothing is as appetizing as food in Tupperware.  I would have plated it nicely but I was still tipsy and about to fall over from heat exhaustion.

Ta-da!