Tag Archives: Food Glorious Food

“All You Can Eat” Chicken & Rice

I was gonna have the hook from “Without Me” start playing whenever you opened this post, but 1) Autoplay is super annoying and should have died with MySpace, and 2) Do you have any IDEA how many lawyers Eminem has???

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls (not that this blog is even CLOSE to anything below a PG-13!) — Hoody’s back. Long-time readers will remember that Hoody’s internal organs have been, shall we say… less than cooperative in the past. Well, unfortunately, that really hasn’t changed all that much. I’m down a gallbladder, and that HAS helped somewhat, but the ol’ pancreas still thinks it’s the law in this here town, and sometimes it’s right. But every cloud has a silver lining — at least I can eat, well, FOOD now! And the “panc-attack” days have brought us a great recipe.

I call it “All You Can Eat” Chicken and Rice. Now, usually, “All You Can Eat” would mean you’re getting your grub on at the Calabash Buffet for $29.95, never-ending fried seafood until the paramedics have to roll you out. But this recipe is for the days when plain chicken and rice is literally ALL you are able to eat.

But never fear, y’all know me. I ain’t never had a relationship I couldn’t fuck up (yet – more on that in a later post), and I ain’t never seen a recipe I couldn’t make taste at least moderately good, if not downright slap-yo’-mama tasty. So here tis’:

“All You Can Eat” Chicken & Rice”

You will need:

  • 1 large can of chicken in water (10 or 12 oz., depending on brand)
  • Approximately 6 cups cooked rice (I do mine in the rice cooker using 3 of the rice-cooker scoops. By the way, this isn’t a sponsored post or anything, but my rice cooker is my new favorite appliance and has paid for itself in less than 3 weeks. Seriously, if you don’t have one, GET YOU A RICE COOKER IMMEDIATELY. You won’t regret it, and I can promise you I’ll be bringing you more tales of rice cooker experimentation — some good, some horribly, horribly bad).
  • Butter, salt, and pepper (these are optional and entirely dependent on your own taste and/or current ability to digest such things)

That’s it.

Directions:

  • Scoop the cooked rice into a large mixing bowl. In this particular case, size really DOES matter. Don’t try to use a medium bowl, you’ll regret it when it comes time to stir.
  • Drain the chicken “juice” onto the rice and stir in with a fork. DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP. This is what gives you that creamy texture. Without it, you get rice with chicken in it, not chicken and rice.
  • Dump the drained chicken onto a cutting board and chop. You’re basically letting the chicken fall apart along its natural grain into small, coarse pieces that will mix easily with the rice.
  • Mix the chopped chicken into the rice. Using your fork, mix until you can’t get a bite of rice without chicken or a bite of chicken without rice.
  • Microwave (covered) for 1 to 2 minutes to blend flavors.

Voila! You’ve just made Hoody Hoo’s (Soon to be) World Famous “All You Can Eat” Chicken & Rice. This recipe makes about 7 servings for me and stores easily in the fridge (just cover the bowl with plastic wrap). I just scoop some into a bowl, heat it up in the microwave for about a minute, and dig in.

Now, if I’m having a particularly bad internal organs day, I’ll eat this plain. If I’m feeling a bit more adventurous, I’ll add salt and pepper. On “normal” days, I’ll get all fancy and melt in a pat of butter on each serving.

On a personal note – sorry to have been away so long, Hooligans. It’s been a tough few years, but things are starting to get back on track (I hope!). I’ll try to stop in from time to time with my usual recipe — snark and sass in equal measures — along with the occasional REAL recipe as I explore the wild, wonderful world of actually being able to eat.

Love y’all, mean it!

HH

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Filed under I Rule You, Panc-Attack, Slap Yo' Mama, Uncategorized

Stone Tablets, Aisle 10

MISSED CONNECTIONS

To the crazy bitch behind me in line at the self-checkout:  You know who you are.  You were standing so close to me I feel like we’re dating now.  Seriously, you were all up in my bubble, man.  Don’t act like you don’t know what you did, who raised you?

Oh, and I guess your mom must be coming over for dinner – I noticed you got that wheat-grass-gluten-free-organic-locally-sourced bullshit pasta she likes.

My parents were right.  I never should have married you.

But seriously, it’s obviously time for some new Commandments up in here.  I mean, no offense to Ol’ Mo’, but the Patriarch just never had to deal with shit like this, so I present to you:

THE COMMANDMENTS OF SELF-CHECKOUT

1.  THOU SHALT NOT STAND TOO CLOSE TO OTHER PATRONS

Really, I think that woman got me pregnant, that’s how close she was.  We’re all grown folk, we all know the rules about personal space – every culture has its own, you know yours, FUCKING OBEY THAT SHIT.

And recent immigrants?  You get 6 months to learn the rules in your new country.  After that, you’re just being a dick like everyone else.

And to top it all off, Standy McTooClose starts scanning her shit before I had even picked up my shit!  Which brings us to…

2.  THOU SHALT WAIT THY GODDAMN TURN, THOU HEATHEN

Yes, I know self-checkout is intended for the speediness, but jeez Louise.  I shouldn’t be ripping off my receipt in mortal terror as you start slinging soy milk in my general direction.  Let me clear the bagging area, for fuck’s sake!  It’s like the water slide – I have to get out of the pool before they can let anyone else come down.  Otherwise, someone’s gonna get hurt.  AND IT AIN’T GONNA BE ME.

And while we’re on the subject…

3.  THOU SHALT NOT BRING FULL CARTS THROUGH THE SELF-CHECKOUT

I’d say, 15 things.  15 things is how many you can reasonably have.  Maybe 20 if you have someone with you who can bag while you scan, but you’re fucking pushing it, Janine.  15 THINGS IS PLENTY.

Oh, and every 5 coupons takes 1 thing off your allowance.  Because you know why?

4.  THOU SHALT NOT HOLD UP THE LINE

Speediness, remember?  I’m not talking about someone’s ol’ Pop-Pop who’s baffled by the newfangled machinery – although I do think that’s what regular checkout clerks are for, but then, how would he learn?  But when you think you’re gonna roll your ass up to the self-checkout with an entire Amazon Rainforest-worth of coupons, um, 2 things: 1) You have clearly exceeded your 15-thing allowance; 2) I WILL END YOU.

C’mon, man, you KNOW at least one of those motherfuckers is gonna jam up the slot and then the girl is gonna have to come over here.  NO ONE WANTS THE GIRL TO COME OVER HERE.

This is also why…

5.  PRODUCE IS FOR ADVANCED CUSTOMERS ONLY

Anything you have to weigh and/or look up is GOING TO SLOW DOWN THE LINE.  That happens even when the actual checkout clerk does it, it’s adding an extra step to the process so it naturally takes longer.  So, if you’re at all overwhelmed by the Brave New World of Self-Checkoutery, play it safe and take that shit to a human clerk.

And if you DO deem yourself ready to look up your own veggies, be advised.  You get TWO.  That basket full of 10 different things for your famous Arugula and Assholes Lima Bean Salad?  NO.  You put that nonsense back and you buy salad in a bag like decent people.

 

 

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Filed under I Rule You, Jesus and Pals, La Vida Loca, SCIENCE!, Weep for Humanity, WTF???

Bar Lessons – Stone Pony Edition

Last Friday, Dear Sweet Mama and I ventured to the legendary Stone Pony to see one of her favorite bands, Black 47.  And Bar Lessons ensued.

STONE. PONY. BITCHES.

STONE. PONY. BITCHES.

1.  These kids today, they don’t dance, they don’t even sway… they just stand.

2.  Drunk white chickies don’t know from an Irish jig.

3.  When you do a jig in their general direction, they become frightened.

4.  The lead singer of Black 47 may in fact be a leprechaun (he’s SO WEE!)

5.  Whoever it was that reviewed the Pony online and raved about the food was VERY. FUCKING. DRUNK.

6.  DSM is hilarious when hammered (of course, this is not news).

7.  There are jobs out there worse than mine – one of them is Bathroom Attendant at the Pony.

8.  Even while asleep in the car on the way home, Hoody will still keep her finger on the station scan button and play DJ.

9.  3 hours of sleep looks like PLENTY from the front side.  From the back side, not so much.

10.  Last night’s eyeliner looks like hammered fuck at work the next day.

 

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Filed under Adventures with Dear Sweet Mama, Getchore LEARN on!, I Rule You, La Vida Loca, Weep for Humanity

Best of Bad Choices

So, the office today was full of Cub Scouts on a tour or something (“Explore the exciting world of radio, kids!  Now, quick, tell Mommy you’ve decided to go to medical school after all!”).  At least, I assume they were Cub Scouts – either that or a pack of midgets in creepy outfits… Cub Scouts is a better option.

As if I hadn’t already been exposed to more children than is clearly outlined in my contract, I was then confronted by a confusing situation at the Tar-jay.  Not being a parent myself, I’ll throw the question open to all of y’all:

Question:  You are teaching your tiny child how to walk.  Do you do this:

A.  At home.  Your nice, safe home.

B.  In a park or other lovely outdoor setting filled with soft, cushiony grass to fall on.

or C.  Back and forth across the aisles of a busy Target filled with self-absorbed Saturday shoppers wielding carts at dangerous speeds, not to mention one Hoody on a mission for Lobster Bites.

You can probably guess, today I was confronted by C.  And I almost ran the little fucker precious snowflake down, because I am operating on about 2 total hours of sleep. And it’s not even good sleep, it’s sleep filled with dreams about The Evil Troll, whom I’ve probably conjured up by writing about him, and who is interfering with my regularly-scheduled dreams of a certain Viper pilot.

So I wake myself up thrashing every hour or so (and NOT in the good way), which sucks… and double-sucks when you get up for work at 3am.  TIRED, yo!

Still staying up watching “Charmed” instead of sleeping, though.  Priorities, Hoody haz them.

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When Hoody Ain’t Happy…

…ain’t NOOOOOBODY happy… So, in the interest of everyone’s happiness (it’s a public service, really), here’s a few things that have made me happy lately:

1.  These:

OH… MAH… GAWD…

Those right there are Archer Farms Lobster & Cheese Bites, available at yer local Target, and they are the best thing I have ever put in my mouth (SHUT UP).  And no, Target did not pay me for this endorsement, but if they DID want to pay me, a dump truck filled with these little balls of Elysium would not go amiss.

2.  This:

 

BATTLESTAR GALACTICA -- SCI FI Channel -- Pictured: (l-r) Jamie Bamber as Lee "Apollo" Adama -- SCI FI Photo: Justin Stephens

Oooooh, YEEEEAH…

As y’all may know, I’ve been holed up in my room watching Battlestar Galactica (2005 version) and this is why.  Jamie. Fucking. Bamber – best Apollo ever and not too shabby as a detective, neither!  But alas, he never writes, he never calls…

On a side note, I’ve been trying NOT to watch BSG over again (again) quite so back-to-back, so first I watched Caprica again, then I tried to watch BSG: ’78 again again again (but I just can’t — the hair, ye gods, THE HAIR!) (plus who can trust the actor who used to play Apollo now?  I ask you!).  So I was delighted to find…

3.  This:

OK… I can deal…

All 8 seasons, fo’ free on the OnDemand.  That should keep me busy for awhile, especially if I don’t fast-forward through the Paige episodes this time around.

I’ll be in my room if y’all need me.

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Filed under I Rule You, La Vida Loca, My Secret Shame(s)

I Rule You

Aaaaaaaw, yeeeah, boys and girls, lookie what Joeyfullystated done give me:

onelovelyblog

And since we all know awards are high on the list of Gifts Hoody Will Always Accept (another one is diamonds, but in that case I do mostly always give them back – just ask my multiple ex-fiances!), I have no choice but to comply with the rules.

1.  Thank the blogger who gave you this award:  Thank you thank you thank you, Joey!  This act of ass-kissing undying and completely deserved love and admiration has earned you a place on the Royal Court.  Pending further review, your probationary title is Executive Awarder in Charge of Awards.

2.  Share 7 things about yourself:  Well, hell, I’m the Queen of Oversharing (among many other things), so I’m running out of shit y’all don’t know.  Lessee…

  1. I am currently re-watching the new (well, 2005) version of Battlestar Galactica thanks to the magic of OnDemand, and I have to say, I love it just as much now as I did when it first came out.
  2. I have an irrational love for Lee Adama.
  3. I have been known to make an entire meal out of nothing but appetizers.  Many, many appetizers.
  4. As a working journalist in New Jersey, I am taking entirely too much pleasure in the scandal surrounding Governor Christie.
  5. I took one… yes, ONE… cheerleading class when I was a wee child.  Needless to say, it didn’t take.
  6. I have bitten my nails my whole life.  At present, I have exactly two nails past my fingertips – both the pinky nails.  Yes, I look like a cokehead.
  7. I could give absolutely two shits about who wins this year’s Super Bowl… as long as it’s the Broncos.

3/4.  Nominate 15 bloggers/Notify the nominees.  Well, this one’s easy – Royal Court, you’re up.  Voices, now’s your chance for a possible promotion.  Consider this your notification, since if you’re not reading my posts you don’t deserve an award anyway!

5.   Put the logo of the award on your blog.  Sure will, just gimme a second to remember how…

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Filed under I Rule You, My Secret Shame(s), The Royal Court, Youse Guys

Who’s “The Boss?”

It’s a bird!  It’s a plane!  No, it’s better!

IT’S AN ADVENTURE WITH DEAR SWEET MAMA!!!

SCENE:  A Local Restaurant Where We Are Usually the Only Customers.  You Will Soon See Why This Is a Good Thing.

PLAYERS:  Hoody Hoo and Dear Sweet Mama (With A Special Cameo by A Waitress)

(Hoody Hoo and Dear Sweet Mama are having lunch.  A strange “thwup-thwup-thwup” sound begins to resound throughout the dining area)

Hoody Hoo:  What the fuck is that?

Dear Sweet Mama:  I think it’s the heater.

HH:  Jesus, I feel like I’m in Vietnam in here.

DSM:  What?… Oh, like in “MASH?”

(Note to readers:  “MASH” was set in Korea.  DSM’s Daddy (my Dear Sweet Gramps) was IN Korea, so you’d think she’d know that…)

HH:  No, like in “Goodnight, Saigon.”  You know, (singing) “They heard the hum of our motors, they counted the rotors…”

DSM:  Oh, The Concubine saw that on Broadway.

HH: …. OHMYGAWD.  No, “Goodnight, Saigon.”  Not “MISS Saigon,” you dumbass.

Break while Hoody leans over out of her chair and puts her hands on the floor while laughing uncontrollably, all the while sputtering “I’m not laughing AT you, I’m laughing WITH you,” even though DSM isn’t laughing… but A Waitress certainly is as she passes by and pronounces that we are “so much fun.”

DSM:  Well, doesn’t it sound like it should be in it?

HH:  “Goodnight, Saigon.”  Billy Joel.  You know, Billy Joel?

DSM:  Oh, I don’t like Billy Joel.

HH:  You used to play his records all the time when I was little!

(Note again:  Yes, when Hoody was little, she and DSM listened to their music on records.  Unless we were in the car, in which case it was on 8-track.)

DSM:  I did?  I don’t think I did.  If I did, it was only because it was on my dance aerobics music.

HH:  “Allentown?”  “Allentown” was on your dance aerobics music??? (singing again) “And we’re living here in Allentown, and they’re closing all the factories down…”

DSM:  Oh, yeah, I like that.

HH:  “Tell Her About It?”  “We Didn’t Start the Fire?”  “In the River of the Night?”

DSM:  Those are some of my favorite songs!

HH:  THOSE ARE BILLY JOEL SONGS.  “Piano Man?”

DSM:  No, I don’t like that one, I get morose.

(Note yet again:  This is just one of many songs that makes Hoody and DSM morose.  See also “Downeaster Alexa”” and “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”)

(‘Nother note:  “Downeaster Alexa!”  BILLY. FUCKIN’. JOEL.)

HH:  Okay, but I think we can safely say you like Billy Joel.  Maybe you didn’t know who he was.

DSM:  Maybe.

HH:  I think you may have thought he was Bruce Springsteen.

DSM:  Maybe.  But don’t say I don’t like Bruce Springsteen, we’re in New Jersey!

HH:  How can you not like Billy Joel, though?  He was married to Christie Brinkley!

DSM:  Not anymore, though.

HH:  No, not anymore.

DSM:  She probably figured out he wasn’t Bruce Springsteen.

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I Am a Liar

It’s not my fault, but I must admit:  I lied to the entire state of New Jersey.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

You see, I went to work yesterday, under orders from The Bosses to lead with weather – even though, as they admitted themselves, it “wasn’t going to be a big deal.”  The National Weather Service was advising “little precipitation, snow changing to rain by afternoon.”

Then this happened.

IMG_20131208_160053_535

Mother. Fucker.

So basically, I told an ENTIRE STATE full of easily-terrified senior citizens that there was nothing to fear… when I should have been issuing a bread-and-milk alert.  Credibility.  I hazn’t got it.

Allow me to once again reiterate for those of you who have not been following along in class:  I AM NOT A METEOROLOGIST.  I was once a “weather girl” very briefly, but that was basically tits-and-ass with a blue screen.  I HAVE NO DOCUMENTED SCIENTIFIC KNOWLEDGE OF THIS SUBJECT.

This is why, when I worked at the TV station, I used to rail and fight so hard AGAINST leading with weather (ask Gilbert, he was present for many of the Attempted Firings of Hoody that resulted from my stand on the subject).  Weather is NOT my business, and I prefer to leave the lying to the professionals.

Thanks for listening to my rant.  I love you fuckers.

HH

P.S.  And don’t worry about me during this unexpected Snowpocalypse.  I have my trusty survival tool:

IMG_20131208_164545_091

Yeah, BUDDY!

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Filed under Gilbert, Reality Bites, SCIENCE!, Weep for Humanity, WTF???, Youse Guys, ZOMBIES!!!

Two Trailer Park Girls Go ‘Round the Outside

Yes, Hooligans, it’s time for yet another installment of everyone’s favorite program…

ADVENTURES WITH DEAR SWEET MAMA

Scene:  Two Southern girls (Hoody and DSM) are at a random NJ diner.  DSM has ordered sausage gravy and biscuits, and The Waitress has just delivered the food.

Hoody:  Is that..?

DSM:  I don’t know…

Both girls lean toward the plate, cocking their heads like the RCA dog and making squinky eyes.

The Waitress:  Is everything okay?

DSM:  Is this sausage gravy and biscuits?

TW:  Yes.

HH:  Oh, ’cause it looks like creamed chip beef.  Which we will also eat.

The Waitress departs.  HH pokes a tentative fork into one of the lumps on DSM’s plate and conducts a cautious taste test.

HH:  It’s kielbasa.

DSM:  Kielbasa?  Well, it IS a sausage…

This incident led to a discussion of the “Don’t Fuck with Our Food” theory of dealing with Hoody and DSM.  In essence, we want what we want in the way we are used to getting it, and woe betide he who gets creative about it.  However…

Skip to:  Hoody and DSM are in the car with a bag of McDonald’s

HH:  Oh, crap, mine’s sausage.

DSM:  Mine’s sausage, too… AND bacon.

HH:  Yeah, mine too.

Sounds of ravening wolves consuming what turned out to be Bacon Egg and Cheese AND SAUSAGE biscuits – which isn’t even a thing McDonald’s makes.

DSM:  That was really good, though.

HH:  Yeah, except I think I’m sweating pork fat…

<Pause>

HH:  You think we should get another one?

And after that we went to the movies and saw Oblivion, which is epic and awesome and further proves that crazy translates directly into hot (Seriously, Tom Cruise?  SO crazy, but dayum).  And we ate nachos and cheese and hot buttery popcorn and now we are sick.  And greasy.

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Filed under Adventures with Dear Sweet Mama, At the Movies, La Vida Loca, WTF???

Hey, Dumbass!

Well, it seems Hoody Hoo’s Help for Hebrews isn’t taking off as the big successful  get-rich-quick scheme humanitarian effort I was hoping it would be… so I’m forced to make me some damn money help others in another way.

Ladies and Gentlemen… the Dumbass Alert.

This will be an app for one’s phone which will alert one to the fact that one is being a dumbass.  It originated when Dear Sweet Mama got the same book out of the library that she had just turned in… because she thought it looked good.  And I told her, yes, it DID look good, that’s why you got it the first time… dumbass.

So the Library Function is first:  I need to be alerted if I go to check out a book I have checked out within the past 3 months.  This will also prevent me thinking I’m smart because I “figured out” who the killer was when I actually just remembered it.  Not that I’ve done that…

Next, the Grocery Function:  This prevents me from buying excessive amounts of… let’s say, ketchup… because I always think I’m out of ketchup whenever I’m at the store.  Again, not that I’ve done that…

But in case you didn’t know, there really aren’t that many good recipes that use massive quantities of ketchup…

Now, I just needs me a nerd to make this App for me (I’m not that kind of nerd, unfortunately – I’m more of an Amish nerd.).  And no, it’s NOT free, that would set my own Alert off, now wouldn’t it?

 

 

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