- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
- 5,410
- Reaction score
- 0
I bet those were those smallest burritos ever. I've seen you eat and there is no way you could eat "two" of anything.
Utilitarian dining
- Thread starter bacon
- Start date
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2005
- Messages
- 11,124
- Reaction score
- 6
They were as big as the ones from Chipotle if you skip the rice. And by this:
I mean that she ate one and I ate one. Actually she ate half of one and I forced down a whole one.
In closing, fuck you.
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
- 5,410
- Reaction score
- 0
I fucking knew it.
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2007
- Messages
- 2,312
- Reaction score
- 42
* will watch new fast and furious. Watches all installments first weekend of release. Enjoys finding inaccuracies/errors in the movies
Also those pancakes sound delicious I have not had a pancake in several months, dark chocolate in them sounds awesome, I would stack them and put vanilla cream cheese in between mmmmmmm that sounds good.
Also those pancakes sound delicious I have not had a pancake in several months, dark chocolate in them sounds awesome, I would stack them and put vanilla cream cheese in between mmmmmmm that sounds good.
Lusst
Red Belt
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2004
- Messages
- 9,145
- Reaction score
- 0
Classified.
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2005
- Messages
- 11,124
- Reaction score
- 6
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2005
- Messages
- 11,124
- Reaction score
- 6
The dish: Turkey Meat Loaf with sundried tomatoes and feta cheese. RECIPE
The drink: Old Forester Signature Bourbon 100 proof.
The flick: The Lost Weekend directed by your favorite and mine, Billy Wilder.
I want you to stand up straight... I said stand up, bitch. Now look the world in the face and say "meatloaf". See? You can't even SAY it without smiling. That's how awesome it is. Thousands of years ago when meatloaf was invented, the awesome motherfucker who invented it probably wanted to name it something cooler like "Meat Bread", "Henry fuckin Rollins" or "Minced Viking Fuel". But his hot wife probably stepped in and objected like wifes tend to do, and the inventor of meatloaf was forced to either compromise or satisfy himself alone in the shower for the foreseeable future... and thus, "meatloaf" was born.
Meatloaf is a man's dish and as such, it's retardedly simple to make. It amounts to this:
1. Throw a bunch of shit in a bowl.
2. Transfer shit to a pan.
3. Cook.
4. Sweet victory.
I like to drink when I cook. Always have. I was out of beer, but I didn't mind because I didn't feel like having beer. I poured a glass of Old Forester Signature (OFS) Bourbon. OFS is quickly becoming my bourbon of choice and for three very good reasons. It's smoother than any 100 proof spirit should be. It's 100 proof. And at $15 a bottle (Bevmo price) it's damn near unparralleled in value. I'm more of a gulper than a taster so I'll leave the tasting notes to the pros. Taken from Tastings.com Home Page
Leave it to booze snobs to make something as manly as bourbon sound so wrist-bucklingly homosexual.
I got the recipe for the turkey meatloaf at the TV Foodnetwork website. It's a pretty good site and the search function is great. All I had to do was type in "ground turkey" and pick a highly-rated recipe. I sent the recipe to my loving wife who picked up the groceries on her way home from work.
Ingredients:
I got the turkey from Sam's Club. It cost me $10 for 5 pounds. I followed the recipe in this case and only used a pound of turkey, but if I ever do this again, and I will, I'll use 2 pounds because it's a little too thin with one pound.
This is my first time cooking with sun dried tomatoes but holy shit are they delicious. These tomotoes were in some kind of olive oil with seasoning and the smell alone was boner inspiring.
The hardest part of this recipe is breaking an egg. I put all the shit in a bowl and mixed it thoroughly but I was careful to "not overwork the meat" as the recipe suggested. This could be a problem for you single guys (and Lusst). Once all your shit is in the pan, even it out to a uniform thickness and place in an oven heated to 375 degrees F. Cooking time for this dish is 45 minutes, so if you're me, you'll have time to pour another glass of bourbon, play Johnny Cash's Home of the blues and Alice in Chains' No Excuses on guitar, lay out and sketch the kitchen for the house you're renovating, slap your wife on the ass and feed your dog some ground turkey. *Ding* Meat loaf is done. Let it rest for 5 minutes before cutting. This allows all the juices to soak back into the meat and whathaveyou.
Verdict:
In the immortal words of Donut62, "It's like Christopher Lambert decapitating people in your mouth." Best meatloaf I've ever made or tasted.
I highly recommend this recipe to anyone who likes meat. If you're reading this and you don't like meat, then gtfo of my diet log, Nancy.
The Lost Weekend was a novel by Charles Jackson about a drunk of the worst kind. The term "lost weekend" is often used to discribe a drinking bender that is beyond recollection. I've had a few such weekends and since the movie adaptation of the book was directed by Billy Wilder, I had to check it out. This is a black and white film circa 1945.
Ray Milland plays Don Birnam, a once rising star in the realm of writers who falls into his own trap. Like many writers he's the self-doubting sort and turns to booze for confidence. He claims it's impossible to write without a drink, but seems oblivious to the fact that once he starts drinking, he can't stop long enough to type his name, let alone a novel.
Jane Wyman plays Helen, Don's pointy-titted love interest. Who the hell was making bras back then? Helen represents all that is right with the world and she sees Don not for what he is, but for what he could be. She's in love with Don and she's hell bent on fixing him.
In the opening sequence, Don nervously packs a suitcase while Helen and Don's brother "Wick" look on. They're supposed ot be going away to the country for the weekend but Don has other plans. Helen is under the impression that it's been 10 days since Don's last drink, but moments later, Wick finds a bottle of rye whiskey hanging out of Don's window from a length of rope. Don somehow convinces Wick and Helen to leave him alone for the afternoon to pack. The second they're out the door, Don searches all his hiding places, but there isn't a single bottle to be found.
Don looks like he's ready to cry when his maid knocks on the door. "Go away!" shouts Don, but the maid insists that Wick left her week's pay in the kitchen. Don's mind starts to make sense of the situation and he inquires, "Where would he leave the money?" Don is unemployed and lives off the generousity of his brother, which unfortunately does not include money for booze. "In the sugar jar." Says the maid. Don searches desperately and finds a ten dollar bill. "I'm sorry, but Wick must have forgotten. I'm sure he'll pay you on Monday..."
Don heads straight to the liquor store and buys two quarts of Rye whiskey. It's important to remember here that 10 dollars went a long way in 1945. Don also buys three apples to put on top of the brown-bagged booze bottles. The apples hide the bottles. The whole town seems to know he has a drinking problem. "There goes the nice man who drinks." Says an old woman as Don tips his hat in passing.
It quickly becomes clear that Don has no intention of going to the country this weekend. He heads straight for the bar and ties on a Rye feed bag with the rest of his money. Nat, the owner/bartender of the aptly named "Nat's Bar" seems to know all about Don and reluctantly pours him shot after shot of the cheapest whiskey he's got. "You know what your problem is?" says Nat regarding Don's drinking problem. "One is too many and 100 ain't enough."
Don spends the next serveral days completely soaked. He tells Nat about the book he's writing; a novel that sounds more like a biography than fiction. As the time passes and funds diminish, Don's appearance delves into homeless-wino territory. He has to beg to support his habit and at one point turns to petty theft. All the while Helen, his guardian, scours the town for Don, losing bits of her own dignity in the process. I won't tell you how it ends, but The Lost Weekend is well worth watching... It goes great with bourbon.
It was an entertaining film full of sharp dialogue. Wilder knows how people communicate and he raises the bar when he writes dialogue. His characters are always so sharp and quick witted... it makes you want to change your speach patterns and cadence. This movie is a bit of a charicature of alcoholism from where I sit, but perhaps that's because I can and have cut myself off when I feel I need to dry out. Some people aren't able to do that as easily and that's unfortunate.
[PSA]In closing, some people shouldn't drink, you know who you are. But EVERYONE should eat meatloaf. [/PSA]
This Public Service Announcement brought to you by the makers of Advil. "Advil. It's what hangovers crave." And the California Department of Corrections and Community Service.
The drink: Old Forester Signature Bourbon 100 proof.
The flick: The Lost Weekend directed by your favorite and mine, Billy Wilder.
I want you to stand up straight... I said stand up, bitch. Now look the world in the face and say "meatloaf". See? You can't even SAY it without smiling. That's how awesome it is. Thousands of years ago when meatloaf was invented, the awesome motherfucker who invented it probably wanted to name it something cooler like "Meat Bread", "Henry fuckin Rollins" or "Minced Viking Fuel". But his hot wife probably stepped in and objected like wifes tend to do, and the inventor of meatloaf was forced to either compromise or satisfy himself alone in the shower for the foreseeable future... and thus, "meatloaf" was born.
Meatloaf is a man's dish and as such, it's retardedly simple to make. It amounts to this:
1. Throw a bunch of shit in a bowl.
2. Transfer shit to a pan.
3. Cook.
4. Sweet victory.
I like to drink when I cook. Always have. I was out of beer, but I didn't mind because I didn't feel like having beer. I poured a glass of Old Forester Signature (OFS) Bourbon. OFS is quickly becoming my bourbon of choice and for three very good reasons. It's smoother than any 100 proof spirit should be. It's 100 proof. And at $15 a bottle (Bevmo price) it's damn near unparralleled in value. I'm more of a gulper than a taster so I'll leave the tasting notes to the pros. Taken from Tastings.com Home Page
Leave it to booze snobs to make something as manly as bourbon sound so wrist-bucklingly homosexual.
I got the recipe for the turkey meatloaf at the TV Foodnetwork website. It's a pretty good site and the search function is great. All I had to do was type in "ground turkey" and pick a highly-rated recipe. I sent the recipe to my loving wife who picked up the groceries on her way home from work.
Ingredients:
I got the turkey from Sam's Club. It cost me $10 for 5 pounds. I followed the recipe in this case and only used a pound of turkey, but if I ever do this again, and I will, I'll use 2 pounds because it's a little too thin with one pound.
This is my first time cooking with sun dried tomatoes but holy shit are they delicious. These tomotoes were in some kind of olive oil with seasoning and the smell alone was boner inspiring.
The hardest part of this recipe is breaking an egg. I put all the shit in a bowl and mixed it thoroughly but I was careful to "not overwork the meat" as the recipe suggested. This could be a problem for you single guys (and Lusst). Once all your shit is in the pan, even it out to a uniform thickness and place in an oven heated to 375 degrees F. Cooking time for this dish is 45 minutes, so if you're me, you'll have time to pour another glass of bourbon, play Johnny Cash's Home of the blues and Alice in Chains' No Excuses on guitar, lay out and sketch the kitchen for the house you're renovating, slap your wife on the ass and feed your dog some ground turkey. *Ding* Meat loaf is done. Let it rest for 5 minutes before cutting. This allows all the juices to soak back into the meat and whathaveyou.
Verdict:
In the immortal words of Donut62, "It's like Christopher Lambert decapitating people in your mouth." Best meatloaf I've ever made or tasted.
I highly recommend this recipe to anyone who likes meat. If you're reading this and you don't like meat, then gtfo of my diet log, Nancy.
The Lost Weekend was a novel by Charles Jackson about a drunk of the worst kind. The term "lost weekend" is often used to discribe a drinking bender that is beyond recollection. I've had a few such weekends and since the movie adaptation of the book was directed by Billy Wilder, I had to check it out. This is a black and white film circa 1945.
Ray Milland plays Don Birnam, a once rising star in the realm of writers who falls into his own trap. Like many writers he's the self-doubting sort and turns to booze for confidence. He claims it's impossible to write without a drink, but seems oblivious to the fact that once he starts drinking, he can't stop long enough to type his name, let alone a novel.
Jane Wyman plays Helen, Don's pointy-titted love interest. Who the hell was making bras back then? Helen represents all that is right with the world and she sees Don not for what he is, but for what he could be. She's in love with Don and she's hell bent on fixing him.
In the opening sequence, Don nervously packs a suitcase while Helen and Don's brother "Wick" look on. They're supposed ot be going away to the country for the weekend but Don has other plans. Helen is under the impression that it's been 10 days since Don's last drink, but moments later, Wick finds a bottle of rye whiskey hanging out of Don's window from a length of rope. Don somehow convinces Wick and Helen to leave him alone for the afternoon to pack. The second they're out the door, Don searches all his hiding places, but there isn't a single bottle to be found.
Don looks like he's ready to cry when his maid knocks on the door. "Go away!" shouts Don, but the maid insists that Wick left her week's pay in the kitchen. Don's mind starts to make sense of the situation and he inquires, "Where would he leave the money?" Don is unemployed and lives off the generousity of his brother, which unfortunately does not include money for booze. "In the sugar jar." Says the maid. Don searches desperately and finds a ten dollar bill. "I'm sorry, but Wick must have forgotten. I'm sure he'll pay you on Monday..."
Don heads straight to the liquor store and buys two quarts of Rye whiskey. It's important to remember here that 10 dollars went a long way in 1945. Don also buys three apples to put on top of the brown-bagged booze bottles. The apples hide the bottles. The whole town seems to know he has a drinking problem. "There goes the nice man who drinks." Says an old woman as Don tips his hat in passing.
It quickly becomes clear that Don has no intention of going to the country this weekend. He heads straight for the bar and ties on a Rye feed bag with the rest of his money. Nat, the owner/bartender of the aptly named "Nat's Bar" seems to know all about Don and reluctantly pours him shot after shot of the cheapest whiskey he's got. "You know what your problem is?" says Nat regarding Don's drinking problem. "One is too many and 100 ain't enough."
Don spends the next serveral days completely soaked. He tells Nat about the book he's writing; a novel that sounds more like a biography than fiction. As the time passes and funds diminish, Don's appearance delves into homeless-wino territory. He has to beg to support his habit and at one point turns to petty theft. All the while Helen, his guardian, scours the town for Don, losing bits of her own dignity in the process. I won't tell you how it ends, but The Lost Weekend is well worth watching... It goes great with bourbon.
It was an entertaining film full of sharp dialogue. Wilder knows how people communicate and he raises the bar when he writes dialogue. His characters are always so sharp and quick witted... it makes you want to change your speach patterns and cadence. This movie is a bit of a charicature of alcoholism from where I sit, but perhaps that's because I can and have cut myself off when I feel I need to dry out. Some people aren't able to do that as easily and that's unfortunate.
[PSA]In closing, some people shouldn't drink, you know who you are. But EVERYONE should eat meatloaf. [/PSA]
This Public Service Announcement brought to you by the makers of Advil. "Advil. It's what hangovers crave." And the California Department of Corrections and Community Service.
- Joined
- Jun 9, 2005
- Messages
- 11,124
- Reaction score
- 6
Didn't feel much like cooking last night. The wife and I are packing up our apartment. We're moving in a few weeks and if there's one thing I've learned about moving, it's that you can never start packing too early. FACT: You never really know how much shit you have until you try to move it.
The Food: Chicken flat bread pizza burritos.
Drink: Old Forester
Movie: Home made renovation video
I had a few chicken legs and thighs left over from the Coq Au Vin so I seasoned them quickly with salt and pepper, drizzled them with a little olive oil and let them bake at 400 degrees F until the skin was golden brown.
While the chicken cooked I packed up all the crap in the kitchen that we won't be needing in the immediate future. I discovered that we have two rice cookers and more salsa bowls than most Mexican restaurants. When my wife wasn't looking I tossed half of them in the trash and took the trash to the dumpster immediately so she wouldn't discover my ruse. Success. It's not that she's a pack rat, she just tends to attach sentimental value to inanimate objects.
Me: "What about this little bowl with the chili peppers on it?"
Wife: "Keep it! My aunt Jenny gave us that for our wedding."
Me: "We've never used it."
Wife: "So?"
Me: "We've been married five years."
Wife: "And?"
Me: "..." *bangs bowl on the counter top* "It has a crack in it..."
Wife: "OMG. Your such an asshole."
Half the night was like this. I enjoy throwing shit away. It makes my life weigh less, if that makes any sense. A good friend of mine can't wait to buy a pool table and a foosball table and a dart board and a jukebox. And he can't understand why I don't want these things. I know where to find them when I want to play. They're called "bars". I've seen the kinds of people that collect shit like that; people who are always trying to show off their "game rooms". And when it comes down to it, that's all a game room is really for; showing off. "Look at all the shit I have!" But once the novelty wears off, the pool table becomes just another surface to fold laundry on. The foosball table gets moved to the corner because your ass isn't as narrow as it used to be and you need the extra walk space. The dart board is no longer used because your grandkids keep putting holes in your walls. In the end your kids are left with a bunch of shit to dispose of and/or fight over when you're dead. Besides, when I kick someone's ass at foosball, I want the whole damned bar to see it.
About ten minutes before the chicken was done, I prepped the flatbread. It's brand called "Flatout".
It's whole grain and full of fiber. I use them for pizzas and burritos. I put a thin layer of roasted garlic Rague on first, followed by some of the leftover sun dried tomatoes from the other night, followed by some left over orange bell pepper, followed by a shit load of mozarella cheese. When the chicken was done, I let it rest for 5 minutes before pulling it apart and adding it to the pizza. The bad thing about these flatbread pizzas is that they're so damned flat, they're flimsy and hard to pick up and eat. So, I just roll them up like burritos. Viola. Quick and easy.
You ever get tired of yoursef? Tired of the way the mirror looks? Tired of the way you sound on video when you speak? Me too. Instead of narrating this renovation video on the fly like I normally do, I decided to do it with text and add a soundtrack. Hope you like it. And if you don't like it, I hope you REALLY hate it.
The Food: Chicken flat bread pizza burritos.
Drink: Old Forester
Movie: Home made renovation video
I had a few chicken legs and thighs left over from the Coq Au Vin so I seasoned them quickly with salt and pepper, drizzled them with a little olive oil and let them bake at 400 degrees F until the skin was golden brown.
While the chicken cooked I packed up all the crap in the kitchen that we won't be needing in the immediate future. I discovered that we have two rice cookers and more salsa bowls than most Mexican restaurants. When my wife wasn't looking I tossed half of them in the trash and took the trash to the dumpster immediately so she wouldn't discover my ruse. Success. It's not that she's a pack rat, she just tends to attach sentimental value to inanimate objects.
Me: "What about this little bowl with the chili peppers on it?"
Wife: "Keep it! My aunt Jenny gave us that for our wedding."
Me: "We've never used it."
Wife: "So?"
Me: "We've been married five years."
Wife: "And?"
Me: "..." *bangs bowl on the counter top* "It has a crack in it..."
Wife: "OMG. Your such an asshole."
Half the night was like this. I enjoy throwing shit away. It makes my life weigh less, if that makes any sense. A good friend of mine can't wait to buy a pool table and a foosball table and a dart board and a jukebox. And he can't understand why I don't want these things. I know where to find them when I want to play. They're called "bars". I've seen the kinds of people that collect shit like that; people who are always trying to show off their "game rooms". And when it comes down to it, that's all a game room is really for; showing off. "Look at all the shit I have!" But once the novelty wears off, the pool table becomes just another surface to fold laundry on. The foosball table gets moved to the corner because your ass isn't as narrow as it used to be and you need the extra walk space. The dart board is no longer used because your grandkids keep putting holes in your walls. In the end your kids are left with a bunch of shit to dispose of and/or fight over when you're dead. Besides, when I kick someone's ass at foosball, I want the whole damned bar to see it.
About ten minutes before the chicken was done, I prepped the flatbread. It's brand called "Flatout".
It's whole grain and full of fiber. I use them for pizzas and burritos. I put a thin layer of roasted garlic Rague on first, followed by some of the leftover sun dried tomatoes from the other night, followed by some left over orange bell pepper, followed by a shit load of mozarella cheese. When the chicken was done, I let it rest for 5 minutes before pulling it apart and adding it to the pizza. The bad thing about these flatbread pizzas is that they're so damned flat, they're flimsy and hard to pick up and eat. So, I just roll them up like burritos. Viola. Quick and easy.
You ever get tired of yoursef? Tired of the way the mirror looks? Tired of the way you sound on video when you speak? Me too. Instead of narrating this renovation video on the fly like I normally do, I decided to do it with text and add a soundtrack. Hope you like it. And if you don't like it, I hope you REALLY hate it.
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2007
- Messages
- 5,344
- Reaction score
- 0
It was my turn to cook breakfast this morning.
I made oatmeal pancakes with dark chocolate chips and strawberry jelly.
Quaker has a new (to me anyways) pancake mix and it's pretty good. I added dark chocolate chips (ghirardelli) to the mix and topped the pancakes with strawberry jelly. I have no use for syrup. Don't like the taste. Normally I make peanut butter and jelly pancakes but I used the last of my peanut butter making my protein bars.
If you can find them, use mini-chocolate chips. It will make them more chocolate-filled than chocolate-chipped, even if you use the same amount.
Also, I'm kind of surprised you don't like port. Most bourbons I've tasted have been as sweet as or sweeter than most ports I've tried (excepting white port). Are you sure you're not a single-malt scotch guy?
Lusst
Red Belt
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2004
- Messages
- 9,145
- Reaction score
- 0
Good stuff - will have to try the chicken flatbread-pizza-burrito-pancake.
As for locking keys in a vehicle, I've never done it. I'm always extremely paranoid about it, and check my hands/pockets 100% of the time when exiting a vehicle.
Chalk it up to my psuedo-OCD.
As for locking keys in a vehicle, I've never done it. I'm always extremely paranoid about it, and check my hands/pockets 100% of the time when exiting a vehicle.
Chalk it up to my psuedo-OCD.
- Joined
- May 28, 2008
- Messages
- 1,752
- Reaction score
- 1
Man this log is awesome. You rock Bacon.
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2005
- Messages
- 5,410
- Reaction score
- 0
I hate throwing stuff away. One day I might use that rolling pin or piggy bank.
- Joined
- Oct 4, 2007
- Messages
- 5,344
- Reaction score
- 0
I used these.
They're a little smaller than a dime. I only put in about 5 per pancake.
So you'd use about 20-25 mini chips per pancake (= about the same amount by volume).
But if you're only using that few then it's probably not worth the effort.
- Joined
- May 6, 2008
- Messages
- 12,233
- Reaction score
- 83
+1000000. And also lol. I can see myself (and probably any man out there) having the same conversation. "what do you mean it might be useful? It hasn't been useful since we moved it from our old apartment three years ago, what makes you think we will magically need it in our new house?"
*subscribes to log*
Andy Rickert
Amateur Fighter
- Joined
- Apr 16, 2007
- Messages
- 1,814
- Reaction score
- 0
About ten minutes before the chicken was done, I prepped the flatbread. It's brand called "Flatout".
It's whole grain and full of fiber. I use them for pizzas and burritos. I put a thin layer of roasted garlic Rague on first, followed by some of the leftover sun dried tomatoes from the other night, followed by some left over orange bell pepper, followed by a shit load of mozarella cheese. When the chicken was done, I let it rest for 5 minutes before pulling it apart and adding it to the pizza. The bad thing about these flatbread pizzas is that they're so damned flat, they're flimsy and hard to pick up and eat. So, I just roll them up like burritos. Viola. Quick and easy.
Didnt wanna quote your whole post, but I wanted to show my support for the amazing flatout wrap. Live off those things.
Ziltoid
In search for the Ultimate cup of Coffee
- Joined
- Dec 16, 2007
- Messages
- 2,106
- Reaction score
- 0
Hellmotherfuckin right, haha! Everytime I have moved Im always like, "Damn where the fuck did all this come from?!" I now wind up throwing out usless shit. The samething with the wife. "Keep this. or keep that." Behind the scenes sometimes I throw shit out or hide it for awhile just to see if she misses it and the answer I find is no. What is it with women that want to hold onto useless shit?
Latest posts
-
Hot Take True or false… Khabib’s record is padded to look good.- Latest: WalterSobchak
-
