For Scribble

Chili Powder Recipe

Cumin
Salt
Peppper
Coriander
Paprika
Red Chili Pepper (if whole, I grind myself in a coffee grinder)

My Mom adds Oregano to her Chili. I never have.

I do not have any amounts as some like Chili hotter than others. I like to add a touch of hot sauce that my mom brought back from Hawaii. Good stuff.

Hubby made the mistake once of saying he like hot food. Silly man. I can make a Curry that will melt your sinuses and a Chili that will make the top of your head hot. I do temper it down for those of us that do not have a cast iron stomach.

Its a good base recipe that you can play around with. Have fun with it.

Early Start on the Road to Solar Hell

Its morning. The birds are chirping, the sun is shining, the sky is blue and I'm sitting with my second cup of coffee and my third smoke. The morning started very roughly. As in past blogs I have complained about my morning routines being disturbed. Little did we know that I was zeroing in on was a trigger for bipolar modes. This morning was classic, all I wanted was that hour in bed without another human beside me. Nope Hubby got up, got dressed then proceeded to wander around the house and then come back up stairs and disturbed me. He was looking for the truck keys. Now I have two little dogs hopping all over me with crossed legs and floating eyeballs. I get up, bring the two little ones downstairs to the Airedale blocking the hallway. I yell at the dog to go outside with the two small ones. Hubby finds keys and leaves for his errand when I discover he hadn't even put the coffee on.

Now that's when the mode started. I scoured and cleaned the kitchen trying to get a handle on the rage thinking he might be going to Tim Hortons for coffee as a treat or something. When he got back and I found out he went for fittings for the solar water heater, that's when the brain had a little seizure. He was up first, didn't put coffee on, disturbed me getting me up out of bed and then had the gall...no the utter audacity to buy fittings for his solar water heater. That's when the mode hit. I tried to calm down but when Hubby said I looked cute pouting, that's when the volcano erupted...

I'm much better now. The dogs are snoozing now their bladders aren't pushing into their brains, the coffee aroma has filled the house, the cat is tormenting the Airedale, Hubby happily steering us along the road to Solar Hell and I've decided to serve meatloaf for supper, so all in all things are fine now.

Pot Roast

Hubby’s first production came to a close last night. The sound effects were awesome and literally had people letting out little cries of surprise and jumping out of their seats. It was great fun to watch. He had way too much fun and I think he is looking forward to the next one. I hope he is, because I’m stage-managing and I get to be the voice inside his head for six nights.

Last night the Director of the show brought in Pot Roast. Now I am not a fan of Pot Roast. As a matter of fact I am pretty positive Pot Roast is a conspiracy, against what I am not sure but a conspiracy none the less. The only Pot Roast I will eat is my mother’s (I won’t even eat mine) until last night. Oh My God, it was done to perfection, the veggies were perfectly caramelised, and the meat melted in your mouth and every bite was succulent. I was very good, and only had a small plate full. Twice.

She also makes a mean Jumbalya (sp?). Something again I had never had the yen to try until I smelled hers. At the last show of Steel Mags (she and I played mother and daughter), the dressing room air was filled with the aromatic smell of the spices and I spent the last half of the show with a rumbling stomach and saliva filling my mouth. I was afraid during my rant that I would shower the first row with spit.

The Director is a crafty one. She is a lovely petite brunette, a sweet smile, pretty big blue eyes and dainty way of shifting the conversation away from her recipes. I’ve asked three times for the recipe and three times we’ve chit-chatted…caught up on what have you… and laughed, giggled …and I walk away empty handed again only to realise it an hour later that I still do not have any clue how to make this dish.

That’s okay, we are looking at a couple of projects together. I’m thinking a whole new twist on say…The King and I…set in …New Orleans…at…Mardi Gras or maybe, Camelot…and Merlin is…a VooDoo Priest…Better yet, Little Orphan Annie set in the French Quarters. I figure by time I get that recipe, I will be pushing Artist in a wheelchair down the street.