10:06 PM >> Leftover Turkey Panini



Leftover Thanksgiving turkey panini with Roasted Groucho Guac, roasted red peppers, sliced black olives, some kind of fancy white cheese, red onion, and ground pepper.

Rating: 7.23 black olives out of 10.00

n. pl. pa·ni·ni (-n)
An Italian sandwich made usually with vegetables, cheese, and grilled or cured meat or leftover thanksgiving turkey.

10:34 AM >> Annual Holiday Guac-Off 2006



As part of the third (?) annual holiday guac-off I entered my Roasted Groucho Guac inspired by the comedy and antics of Groucho Marx. The avacado was mixed with a roasted red pepper, a roasted tomato, and a roasted tomatillo and some sauteed onions, a little lemon juice, roasted garlic, oregano, some pepper and salt. It was garnished with paprika and a pair of Groucho glasses.


The winner of this year's contest in both the presentation and taste category was Tri-State University alumni Kenneth Dunn (Waterloo, IN) with his BLTGuac. This was his rookie year in the guac-off and his first ever attempt at making guacamole. His recipe was inspired by a Rachel Ray guacamole. Congratulations on your victory this year, Ken. Next year will be a vicious fight I can already tell.



The other entry was Dusty's Cinderella Guac inspired by Cinderella -- the classic tale of mean stepmothers and sisters and getting back at them and finding a prince. Good guac Dusty and nice drawing that you made. But you better step it up for next year. Who knows maybe next time we'll be battling with the always inventive Dallas who missed this year's contest because of a broken ham string.

Thanks for another great guac-off. But you guys will learn. Next year. I will have my revenge.

Sincerely,
A Vengeful Avacado, Jr.

11:44 PM >> The Ironing Board



Seven days. The heads at the committee room table await. Will Bryan Bartlesby smooth out the wrinkles in time? Corporate scandal. Nepotism. Can he prove to HR that his actions warrant the hard measures he's adopted? Will he avoid the deadly spray of his staunch adversaries? Steamy. Danger. Evil. Pressed to make the decision of his life. Caught without change when coin laundry demands it. Will CEO Bartlesby be washed up, or will he come out clean?

Find out this winter in this season's starchiest corp-u-drama-docu-laundro-mat-crime-fiasco.

In theaters this Friday.

The Ironing Board - One man who single handedly smoothes out the wrinkles of corporate corruption in a world of corrugation.

8:30 PM >> New space gun design and new fig pie version

I've been tinkering both in the kitchen and in the lab. This space gun was an idea that hit me. I'm pretty sure that the technology is solid. This baby should work within our solar system at the least. With some mods it should perform effectively outside the Milky Way as well. But until contracted for that job I cannot sustain any further development.



The pie below is only edible here on earth. Atmospheric conditions happen to be just right for consumption only on this planet. Unfortunate for you other planetarian folks, but hey that's all the more reason to make a visit this holiday season.



Double Layer Fig White Choco Coco Pie
Figs cooked as usual in apple cider vinegar with cinnamon and ginger and mixed with Ed's pie mix. Baked in pie crust mixture on loan from work (top crust included too, see photo). After cooling topped with white chocolate pudding mix and toasted coconut. Serve chilled.

Rating: 9.01

11:55 PM >> my musket and me



Had I been a soldier in the civil war this is what one might expect me to look like. I'd carry with me my trusty ramrod and my musket cartridge pouch and all my trusty musketing tools.




I'd shoot at people. I'd eat rabbits. I'd scribble in my journal. I'd write patriotic songs. I'd dream of my gal who kissed me goodbye before I left to go away to fight. I'd write letters to my family. Prolly a letter to my Ma and Pa and then a letter to my brothers which was a little more truthful as to the state of things. When writing to Ma and Pa things would often be glossed over or ignore or made to seem happy and fine.

Here's an example of the type of letter to brother [clickie to enlarge, duh!] >>

9:09 AM >> Pepsi Jazz - photo proof

Thank you, Captain, for your post. It is bunk, however. P-Jazz changes people. Especially the Strawberries and Cream flavor. You seem not to trust my personal opinions of Pepsi Jazz so I conducted my very own survey of some folks at a local QuikTrip. Their direct testimonials provide the truth.

Here's is what the people had to say:
a. Albert Sweeny (Decatur, GA)
"Oh, yeah I love Pepsi Jazz. It really tastes awesome."
b. Donald Johnson (Tucker, GA)
"I don't so much care for the black cherry and french vanilla flavor, but that strawberries and cream is top shelf."
c. Lindy Samson (Alpharetta, GA)
"Is this for real? I'm so embarrased. But my kids love Pepsi Jazz. Isn't that right, Ricky [KID IN BACK SEAT]? RICKY: "Yeah, mom. Pepsi Jazz!"
d. Fred Muggles (San Diego, CA)
"I'm an SUV driver and an avid Jazz [Pepsi Jazz] fan."
e. Brian Bartlesby (Anniston, AL)
"Pepsi Jazz is so good - strawberries and cream. I drink it on the road all the time. I'm a traveling washer and dryer salesman."
f. Shadow of Dick Lambert (Alpharetta, GA)
"Me and my girls really think Pepsi Jazz is awesome. Donna loves the strawberries and cream."
g. Shadow of Amanda Melton (Atlanta, GA)
"Are you for real? I love it [Pepsi Jazz]."
h. My forehead (Me)
"Strawberries and Cream Pepsi Jazz is good. It's so good."

Well, Captain, there you have it direct testimonials that cannot be protested. You can see people really do love the drink.

7:45 PM >> Babies mit Bearden

OK, jerk. I've ignored Ensign's rantings and reviews of commercial foods and beverages for the past several years, but he convinced me a few months ago - we were watching the UGA/SC game I believe (ah the good old days when we used to win) at Taco Mac in Decatur - to try Pepsi Jazz. Admittedly, he warned against the Black Cherry flavor but raved about the Strawberries and Cream Pepsi Jazz. I was wary from that start about any soda, much less a diet soda, which had Strawberries and Cream flavoring would be appealing in any way whatsoever, but I do like Fanta Strawberry from time to time, so I thought I would give it a shot. We strolled over to the CVS across the street, but they had none, no surprise to me now that I have some hindsight on the impossibility this product's popular appeal. I walked away that day somewhat disappointed since Ensign had done a very effective job of pumping me up about the uncommon goodness of the Jazz. I had scene the commercials - the cute, hip black woman walking down the street drinking the Jazz with all of her obnoxious surroundings suddenly converging into a sort-of Jazz symphony (jackhammers were snare drums, screaming babies were trumpets, etc.). We are all too old to believe such ridiculous hype, but nonetheless I am a naive romantic deep inside and longed to see the world in harmony, what with all the wars, genocide, and Madonna adoptions going on, and was willing to risk something as insignificant as a buck or two for a soda to solve the problems of the world, as least as I perceive them.

Notice: Pepsi Jazz makes no promise to actually solve the world's problems, only to make them seem entertaining to the consumer.

A few weekends ago, a very dear friend of mine and her fiance, a dear friend of mine as well, married on a South Carolinia island overpopulated with deer. After four days of free beers and brats, bad golf and tennis (my ace is getting better), kicking beach balls in the living room, and dancing with parents, Corporal and I headed home via Robert Smalls Parkway. We stopped for gas, entered the shop to get a soda and snack, and there on the shelf was a lineup of Pepsi Jazz, both Black Cherry and Strawberry and Cream. I was compelled to pick Strawberries and Cream based upon Eddy's review, so Corporal picked Black Cherry. I'll leave it to Corporal to give a review of that soda, but I'll leave you with a hint of what his review might say: it sucked.

But I had my Jazz and was excited even. The Corporal kindly paid for the treat and we went back to the Benz. I sat in the pilot's chair, buckled up, and twisted the cap. Just as I was about to pull onto the highway, I downed my first gulp of the Jazz. Things became very different. Rather than a beautiful, harmonious symphony of sights and sounds, I experienced complete chaos - a cacophony on my tongue and in my throat. What was it that had suddenly hurtled me into a sudden wave of displeasure? The absolute tragedy of the collapse of crescendoing expectations - all ceased climbing and nosedived into the pit of my stomach with my first swig of the Jizz, for I would have just assumed drink that which goes by the same name (phonetically).

I'm not even sure I need to describe it except to say that it tastes exactly like Diet Pepsi, Diet Coke's nasty aftertasty cousin, with the addition of an unnecessary and even injurious flavoring - a complete offense to any reasonable lover of life's finer indulgences. In no way could I be convinced to endorse a drink that seems to have come from the bladder of the Devil's brother himself, not even for one dollar.

I don't blog, and I may never blog again, but I do think that I am obligated, now that I know the truth, to prevent Ensign from betraying the trust of this blog's readers by condemning them to the surprise of buccal torture. He has no right to lead this blog's readers astray, down a path to disappointment and depression. He has made great claims on a mulitude of culinary subjects, and he may have even made an expert of himself on the subject, but do not let him fool you. I shutter to think what other claims he has made that are so far the opposite of what he states. Simply beware... I trusted, but I verified. And by verifying, I can now testify - the Jazz is awful. I must believe that this puts the entire collection of Ensign's reviews out on appeal.