That time at the VFW

For some odd reason I wanted to visit my dad and that is unusual. Hunting him down just to visit is way out of character. 

I imagined him to be at one of two places, a VFW that I know about or home. Those are my only two guesses although there are dozens of good possibilities.  I was in the area so I swung by and bang there he was right off. Sometimes I can be a very good guesser. He was sitting at the bar of the VFW that commands a lofty position overlooking Hampden 285 on the West side as it enters the foothills, engaged  with a hulking Mexican guy. He was delighted to see me. Genuinely surprised as all heck. That was a good one. He bought me a drink. 

I drink sissy drinks. Cubalibre. 

Now there are three of us in a huddle of three stools. Turns out, the El Dorado parked out front belongs to the Mexican guy. I noticed it on the way in. Nice. New. Shiny. You can tell when a vehicle is important to someone, and this one is.  

But they never are to me. They just aren't. I said to the man in my usual droll way, "Oh, so that's your el Dora Do I noticed coming in." 

And it pissed him right off. Right off. 

I gone and done it. Wow. No sense of humor at all. Not regarding his car. He was having none of my diminution of his vehicle. Not by way of introduction. 

But part of his negative reaction was my dad cracking up laughing. 

And the guy turned away and left us alone. 

Whereupon my dad turns close in to me and goes, "You know Chip. Your mother and I always prided ourselves on raising you two boys the same.  But looking back I'm not so sure that was a good idea." 

"Uh, what?"

"You were different boys. I had to lay it on thick sometimes to get through to Barry. With everything. Everything I said to the lad didn't affect him one bit. But you were different."

Here we go, I thought. I've got some catching up to do. siiiiiiip.  

"I'd actually browbeat Barry in an effort to get through to him and it all rolled off his back like pellets of water off a duck."

I did not know that, but what an odd comparison, I thought as he continued.  siiiiiiiiip

"But one unkind word to you and you'd go silent for two weeks." 

I do not recall anything that dramatic. 

But my Belgians are like that. Or rather, German Shepherd vs Belgian Sheepdogs. Maybe that's why I can train them so well. Nah. They're just flat brilliant at training it has nothing at all  to do with me. Still, the Belgians are a lot more sensitive than the German Shepherds, and take a different approach, one devoid of corrections, not praise and corrections, only praises or praise withheld, and then only momentarily, back to praise and happiness again, that is how sensitive. 

This concludes my anecdote. Sorry, no epiphany or nothing, no denunomexxx denumomentxxxx great ending, or even a point for that matter, but there you go. 

So to compensate for that shortcoming, and because it appears we're becoming something of a food blog, here's an omelet.

I made this twice in a row because twice in a row I wanted the delightful and intriguing combination of crunchy iceberg lettuce and softly stacked egg. Not puffy like whipped.

An easier thing to do would be use a corn tortilla to wrap a few leaves of lettuce with a touch of some kind of dressing. A very simple salad in a wrapper. That is the idea. That's all. So it goes very fast.

As I'm putting it together I am rejecting a million ready enhancements, possibly ten ready enhancements, sandwich ham sitting right there beckoning to be used, cheese of various types are obvious choices, avocado, tomato, onion, mushrooms, Lordy, all those would work great, but no, iceberg lettuce it is. Lowly iceberg lettuce. Crunch.

So howzabout an obnoxiously pedantic overly detailed description of something so simple a nine-year old can do it? Huh? Doesn't that sound like fun? I did this sort of thing at nine-years old so I know that part isn't the customary 12% exaggeration for dramatic effect.

This is just for you. I did not publish this over there on my other place. No. This tedious thing is just for you.





We're pretending you're nine.

I totally knew both these eggs would be double-yolk. 

I predicted it to myself. They were heavier and longer than normal.

Starts off medium hot.

There is a lot of butter. The butter foams then stops. Then the egg is added. 

Egg cooks immediately and the cooked portion pulled toward the center.

Pull, pull pull

Keep doing that all the way around. Toward the center.

Lifting up and letting the uncooked portion flow underneath.

Stand there and pull toward the center.

Oh, I feel so sorry for you. You have to stand there and pay attention.

Done! Quick, get it off!

Not so easy to roll. This is for experts. 

Maybe better if we just forget the whole thing.

Psych!

Tip it onto the plate unrolled if it fails to fold for you, 

then tuck it in and pretend that you know what you're doing. 

Works for me every time.

This is mayonnaise that I made yesterday. True story, * points * worst batch of mayonnaise ever. I rescued it by starting over twice. I kept thinking, "Damn, I'm not going to waste a whole cup of vegetable oil like that." But that keeps adding egg beyond proper mayonnaise into something else. Something eggy.

Using the emersion blender method, it utterly failed to pull together. Fail. So I heated the whole jar in the microwave in pulses but it got hot beyond egg cooking temperature and still stayed oily. Fail 2. So I started with a new egg over double boiler and whisked in the old and it started to work then separated. Fail 3. Now it has more egg than I want it to have. And I must start over with a fresh egg so I use only the white next time, the third start, whisk in the old and it thickens fine. Refrigerated it's even better. But all that egg meant everything else must be adjusted too, so more lemon, more mustard, more salt, more vinegar, all in increments, taste, taste, taste, taste, it was t total pain in the ass. Sink full of whisks and dishes. Just buy it. 

I could have walked to the store and bought it more easily than all that.

That's the truth too because the store is right across the street.

But it sure is good.

Okay, I think that's everything. 

*counts photos*

Yup.