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Showing posts with label Cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cooking. Show all posts

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Fish 'n' Chips with a Side of Madness

-Whew!- I'm just taking a quick break from my flurry of cooking to write up this post. The chips (fries for you Americany people) are toasting in the oven, fish are waiting to be cooked (they're dead and breaded anyway, they can wait a few minutes) and the various side dishes, sauces, and silverware is set out on the table. I'm afraid that there won't be any fruit because we're too busy to buy it fresh and the can opener is trying to be aloof and elusive. Mission accomplished, can opener, i've even looked in my sister's bedroom and I can't find you. I did find the scissors and my lil' 4 year old sister yelling, "MY THUMB! BABY JESUS IS ON MY THUMB!"

Welcome to my mad, yet marvelous, life.

Right, back to the subject of this whole thing-a-ma-blog. Time I explained why I have a blog in the first place.

I started writing emails to my friends telling them (whether they wanted to know or not) about my school frustration, thoughts, problems, and bizarre stories. Apparently there was something entertaining about the ramblings of a strange teenager, so they sent the emails to their friends, and pretty soon I had a pretty big group. As someone with a silly name once said,

"The insane, on occasion, are not without their charms."-Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Just to make things more convenient plus be able to add pictures, videos, and links I set up this blog. That way anyone, not just those who hack my email, can see my ramblings. Usually most of the people who do read my blog are friends, family, and people who google "suave mustache pictures" (?), and some stray Canadians. (Really, the second biggest demographic behind Canada is India. Weird, huh?)

Anyway, my french fries are hissing and my sisters have set up what sounds like a MMA fight in the garage, so i'd better go and resume my duties as eldest sister. Oh, see, I can hear one of them crying right now. For a bunch of little kids they hit hard. And bite hard. I should know.

Fishsticks and Custard,
Hannah


Thursday, May 5, 2011

Thursday Night Fever (with complimentary A Disco Pancake Buffet)

SPLAP. I looked around to make sure no one was looking and picked up the pandcake that had dropped in the kitchen sink. There might be some dish soap residue so i'd just feed it to Emma. Speaking of the little munchkin, where was she? I followed her melodious voice and found her under the table. 
"Ooooo, Hannah Mooosick! I'm so glad you came. Do you want some free moneys? I have freeeeee moneysssss!" Emma pulled a blue coinpurse and chuckled like a con artist at a gas station with a arm full of fake Rolex. All she needed was some sandy stubble and she would have been a dead ringer for a 3 year old Sawyer. 
"What do you have, Emma?"
She grinned and carefully opened the coinpurse, making sure to keep it out of my reach in case I was going to grab and run. Deciding that I wasn't going to outright steal her most likely counterfeit money, she drew out a single, shiny quarter. Winking, she asked, "You wants the free moonnnneeeeeyyyy?"
"You can keep it, thanks."
"Okeyyy. Goodbye, Miss Moosick!" Quickly locking her purse she scooted back under into the shadows of the table, humming a slightly sinister version of "Shake Your Boo Thing" and lay in wait for the next sucker to come along. (really, where does she pick these things up?)
My pancakes tonight weren't exactly....pancakes. I honestly don't know what went wrong. I followed the recipe (mostly), I flipped them expertly (except for the ones on the ceiling. They'll come down eventually.), and they looked golden brown (okay, maybe more hard-core video gamer pale). They might not have been pancakes, but they were wonderful tortilla crepes!


You know those days when you never quite make it out of your PJ's and technically what you eat for breakfast isn't anywhere on the food pyramid? When you are so busy or lazy that you decide, nah, I don't need to do my hair or makeup today; no one's going to see me but my family anyway and what do they care? Today was one of those days for me. Unfortunately, not for everyone else.
I had just finished my math lesson and was stretching my arms and yawning. The girls were playing quietly, Dad wasn't home yet, and I didn't have to start to make dinner for at least 2 hours. Time to check out Charlie McDonald. 
For those of you who don't know Charlieissocoollike, shame on you. He is a British guy who makes various musical, talented, and entertaining vlogs and vids on youtube. Not all his vids are as charming as his hair, but on a whole I anticipate his new videos and have been a loyal fan for a very long time. Anyway, this was my chance to check up and see if he had a new video. Unfortunately, he did not. Sad face. However, not all was disappointed because I saw that one of my favorite K-pop bands had come out with a new song! Hooray and bunkigayo!


(A Note on KPop: Few people share my musical tastes on this and even some of my closest friends think i'm a weirdo for liking it. And maybe I am. But if you don't tease me about my G-Dragon then I won't tease you about your Keshia, John Lennon, and other differing musical preferences. I know I have a slight Asian obsession. Consider Kpop my therapy.)


Aaaannnyyyway, back to my delight. Seeing as I was alone and very happy, I decided to do a quick spurt of joyous victory dancing. Like everyone, I have my own styles. It was a explosive mixture of  "general optimism", "I'm in my PJs", "Math is done", and "Asian boy squueee!". Regardless, it was a pretty potent dance. (Not to mention ridiculous, as all victory dances are to some extent). It wasn't until the door bell rang that I realized that my sunburned neighbor (who bears an amazing resemblance to Charlie Brown) was watching the whole thing from the front door window and was awkwardly waiting for me to stop dancing like a fool and answer the door. After a moment of meteor-embarrassment and guppy fish-face, I smoothed my hair, turned off the music, and calmly strode to the door in my PJs.

"Hi."
"Yeah...is your Dad home?"
"Not right now, no."
"Well, I was a lookin' at your garden and was wondrin' if you wanted me to bring my plow over."
"I'm not sure, but I can ask him to call you when he gets home?"
"Alrighty.....bye'."
"Goodbye."
I calmly shut the door, waved farewell, and promptly flung myself onto the couch with a groan. The moral of my story? Dance like a fool in your PJs all you like, but only in windowless rooms. That, and always till your garden before you bust a move. Just to be safe.
Mystery Pancakes,
-Hannah

Monday, February 7, 2011

How To Cook A (Slightly Dysfunctional) Egg



How To Cook An Egg

(By Expert Chef Hannah Hoo)

1.Realize, at 10:00 p.m., that you are hungry for a coddled egg.

2.Realize you've no idea how to cook a coddled egg. Google "How To Cook A Coddled Egg". (Yay for Google!)

3.Sneak upstairs to the kitchen, turn on the lights. Set a teakettle to boil. Grab a large mug out of the pile of mysterious dishes. (Mysterious Dishes: The mislaid pices of crockery that were abandoned during commute from the dishwasher to the cabinet or vice versa. Mysterious because you don't know if they are clean or not.)

4. Grab freshly-laid egg from under chicken's behind.

5. Wash egg in hot water.

6. Place egg gently in mysterious mug, then pour boiling water into mug until it covers the egg.

7. Wait for 1 minute. Tap foot impatiently. Toast one slice of toast. Spread it with far too much butter.

8. Remember coddled egg. Remove from water, crack the top. Slowly tip over and pour the partially coddled egg onto a random tea dish.

9. Opps. Realize that your egg is not coddled, in fact it is almost raw and jiggling.

10. Decide to fry the partially coddled egg. Search for small frying pan.

11.Fail in your search; the only thing the right size is a small pot.

12. Decide that the pot will do. Put pot onto stove top on medium heat, then slide egg into pot.

13. Season generously with salt, pepper, and some Italian herbs that give the egg a greenish tinge a delicious taste. Top with lid.

14. Grab a random glass of water off the counter (or potted palm, if handy). Pour a little water into the pot. Place glass back exactly where you found it so no one knows you used it.

15. Pot begins to make weird sounds and hissing, like an angry raccoon. Back away in fear.

16. Sizzling has calmed down. Check egg; it should be finished.

17. Slide fried/coddled/boiled egg out of pot with a rice paddle onto your buttered toast (now cold).

18. Take all your dirty dishes and set them in the sink for someone else to do later.

19. Eat egg with great pnash while watching your favorite movie. Enjoy!

WARNING: This is a complicated recipe that should only be performed when a professional is handy (aka Me). Result of recipe may not always be desirable.

Merry Christmas Eve!

_Hannah