Voting and nominations continue throughout the year for March - December, so go now and nominate your favorite male and female bloggers. All proceeds will go to the Red Cross, so it's all for a good cause.
Excuse me, I'm off to learn the finer points of Breakdance fighting.
A look at parenting through testosterone-tinted beer goggles.
The Cast: BusyDad (Jim) Working dad doing his darndest Fury (Marcus) 7-year-old boy and future revolutionary d Wife (Lisa) BusyDad’s reality check Krypto (Dog #1) Witness to the insanity and chewer of things BJ (Dog #2) Yapping spreader of love and poops
I was digging through a pile of schoolwork that Fury has brought home over the past couple years and realized that a parent can learn a whole lot more than simply how well his kid is doing in school.
Look at this, for example:
I learned that my kid does indeed know what it means to totally rock.
I'm impressed that he knows how to estimate, but he needs to learn how to round UP. It will serve him better later in life.
I learned that my kid hasn't discovered euphemisms like "distinguised accents" or "sexy salt and pepper."
I learned that when I say "I have to do work right now on the computer" I should maybe open a spreadsheet or something when he walks by.
I learned that I should smile more when d wife and I argue.
And this was a nifty exercise he brought home just the other day:
For the kid-writing impaired the above can be translated as: Buy a money maker and make a million and buy a mansion and a nice car like a Lamborghini or a Rolls Royce.
I learned that he should be my economic advisor. Or maybe Obama's. I'm not selfish.
And this is cool. Here's something he did last year in first grade:
Here's the same exercise that he did this year, in second grade, after we enrolled him in private school.
For the kid-writing impaired, the above can be translated to: I'll be famous for making the show "A Day in a Life" and I'll watch basketball all the time and repeats of my show.I learned that although it pains me to shell out $1000 a month for private school, you cannot put a pricetag on ambition, or an appreciation for fine automobiles.
I love beef. Always have. So when I was invited by TheMotherhood.com to come up with some beef recipes as part of their "I Heart Beef" campaign, I was all too happy to oblige. After I said yes, however, I realized something. My best beef recipe consists of the following ingredients: salt, ribeye, heat.
Considering I was given a heap of beef as compensation for my participation, I felt kind of guilty tapping out a one liner, waving good-bye and taking my beef home. I am a man of integrity. I earn my meat the old fashioned way: by making absurd videos.
So I made one. This one's called "Beef. It's What's For Dinner... and a LOT of Other Things."
And if you came here thinking you'd get a recipe or two, you know me well. I'm all about spreading the food knowledge and love. I've got two finger-food recipes that will make you a hit at parties. Unless you're the one who was supposed to bring the alcohol. In which case you'll get yelled at for bringing this "fancy beef crap" instead of booze. Tread carefully.
But first, the giveaway. Because I know you only love me for my meat.
I will be giving away a $100 Omaha Steak gift card to one lucky reader. Just leave a comment telling me about your favorite memory making everyday occasions special with beef. Really, who hasn't had those?
For extra entries, you can do the following, worth one entry each:
Ask Chef Dave Zino, executive chef of the National Cattlemen's Beef Association a beef cooking question.
Just let me know which of the above you did and I will grant you that many more entries.
Contest deadline is Wednesday, March 3, 11:59pm.
Recipe 1: Beef Curry Puffs
When I graduated from college and became part of the adult world, it meant bringing Doritos and Rolling Rock to parties would no longer suffice. So I threw a bunch of my favorite things together and created these. I've since discovered that these actually exist, but screw it. I'll just consider myself awesome for inventing them.
Ingredients:
1 lb ground beef
1/2 to 3/4 cup chopped onion (I never get scientific with ingredients - just feel it)
2 Tbs curry powder
1 Tsp cumin (yes, I know curry powder has cumin in it. I just like extra cumin. Cumin rocks)
Approx. 4 oz. Mango Chutney (or half a 9 oz. bottle)
1 package puff pastry sheets
1 egg
- Unwrap the puff pastry and set on the counter to defrost (40 min before you need to use it). - Sauté the onions in butter or canola oil until translucent. About 2 min. - Add the beef. - Once the beef begins to brown, add the curry powder and cumin.
Look at that cascade of awesome goodness.- Once the spices have been integrated into the meat, add the Mango Chutney. I like my curries sweet (I LOVE Thai Curry dishes that use coconut milk), so I tend to add more Chutney than the average person would. So use the 4 oz. as a guide. Add some, taste, add some more, taste, etc. That's what makes cooking fun. - Remove from heat. Let the mixture cool. - Cut the puff pastry dough into approx. 2" x 2" squares. - Scoop a small spoonful of meat into the center of a square and pinch the sides together in a triangle. Place onto a greased baking sheet (Pam spray is best).
- Beat the egg in a bowl and add a teensy bit of water. Use a pastry brush to lightly brush the egg wash on top of the pastries.
- Place sheet into a preheated 400 degree oven. - Find a corner to sit in for 15 minutes and spend some quality time with the dog.
- When the pastries are golden brown, they are ready. And crazy delicious.
Recipe 2: Surf 'n Turf Handrolls
I love sushi. But I realize that not everyone likes raw fish. This is my version of a more "made for TV" handroll featuring all cooked ingredients. And of course, beef, which is unusual for sushi. But then again, I'm unusual for a mom blogger, so there.
Ingredients:
10 Handroll-sized nori (seaweed) sheets (Most Asian markets have these. If you can't find any cut to handroll size, you can just do it yourself. They are roughly a 4" x 8" rectangle.)
An 8 oz. ribeye, or similar steak, grilled and sliced into strips
1 avocado, peeled and cut into strips
Fresh chives (not chopped)
Sushi rice:
2 cups short grain rice
2 cups water
1/4 cup rice vinegar
2 Tbs sugar
1/2 Tsp salt
Spicy shrimp mixture:
1/4 cup mayonnaise (if you have an Asian market near you, get Kewpie Japanese mayo. If not, regular mayo works).
1 Tsp chili paste (Sriracha sauce preferred. most markets, even regular American supermarkets, sell it nowadays. Or use Tabasco.)
2 Tsp tobiko (flying fish roe -- those little red granules that coat the outside of your California Roll)
1/2 Tsp Mirin (sweet Japanese cooking wine -- I have also found this in American supermarkets. If not, then use honey)
1/2 lb cooked shrimp, chopped
2 Tsp chopped fresh chives
Sweet "Pickles"
1 Cucumber, peeled, seeded and cut into 4" strips
4 Tbl rice vinegar
2 Tbl sugar
1/4 Tsp salt
To make the sushi rice:
- Cook the rice, set aside. - Add the water, sugar, vinegar and salt to a saucepan and heat until sugar dissolves. - Let it cool. - Slowly add the liquid to the rice. And fold it in. Don't add all of it. Add it until it rice is damp but not wet. You don't want soupy rice. You're actually going to discard most of that liquid. It's just hard to measure those ingredients in small quantities to cook.
To make the Spicy Shrimp:
First, here's a pic of the harder-to-find ingredients (Kewpie, Tobiko, Sriracha). Since I live in CA, where there is significant demand for Asian foods in the mainstream, your average supermarket might carry this stuff. And if not, there are Asian markets everywhere. I realize the rest of the country isn't so lucky with the ethnic foods being a stone's throw away from any point in the city.
- Combine all ingredients in a bowl. That's it!
To make the Sweet "Pickles":
- Sprinkle the cucumbers generously with salt (around 2 tsp will do) and set aside for 15 min. The salt will draw the moisture out. - Rinse the cucumbers thoroughly to get the salt off. - Add all the ingredients in a bowl and add the cucumbers. Let it sit for a few hours ideally, but these taste good even after 15 min.
Assembly:
- Lay down one nori sheet lengthwise in front of you. Lay some rice down on the left side. Kind of spread/smoosh it. The left side of the rectangle should have rice and the right side should be empty. - Diagonally lay a strip of steak, an avocado, a pickle and a chive onto the rice, oriented in an 11 o'clock to 5 o'clock position. - Spoon some shrimp mixture on top. - Grab a grain of rice and smoosh it into the opposite corners. See circled areas in diagram below. These will serve to glue the ends together after you roll it. - Bring the lower left corner up to the middle-top (see arrow below). It will form a cone. Then just keep rolling that cone and secure the edges (the smooshed rice).
- That's it! After writing all this, I realized that this is highly complicated. I guess that's why sushi is so expensive. Oh well. If you're ever in town, I'll make it for you for a bag of Doritos and a 6-pack of Rolling Rock.
I don't post nearly as much as I used to, I know. But it doesn't mean I don't feel guilty about it. And it certainly doesn't mean I won't think of some way of buying time between real posts. Like this.
What's the best part of the movies? The previews. Roll 'em...
Will Blog for Meat - The Movie
They made him an offer he couldn't refuse. Free meat. Now he's got 3 days to prove to the world that when the lovely ladies at The Motherhood approached him during the Tastemaker potato cook-off to make the meat video of the decade on behalf of the National Cattlemen's Beef Association (you know, the Beef, It's What's for Dinner people), that they were of sober sound mind and body.
I've got a video camera, a ton load of beef, a sharp knife and lots of beer. See what comes of it. The video will be called "Everything's Better with Beef" and it opens August 28, on internets everywhere.
Bribe-o-rama: I will be giving away a $100 Omaha Steak gift card to one lucky reader. That's roughly what's pictured above. And I will make you do things to win it. Videos can be sent directly to me in discreet plain brown paper packaging. Or, if you'd like to take the high road, you can leave a comment below telling me about your favorite memory making everyday occasions special with beef. Have fun with it. I will pull one at random.
For extra entries, you can do the following, worth one entry each:
Ask Chef Dave Zino, executive chef of the National Cattlemen's Beef Association a beef cooking question.
Just let me know which of the above you did and I will grant you that many more entries. Just be honest about it. I'm wielding a 9" chef's knife. Just sayin...
Disclaimer: I got paid in meat to make recipes and film myself. Note to marketers and PR people. I never turn down free meat.
Project GreySkull
In May 2000, right before my 10th high school reunion, I decided I was sick and tired of my flat shiny hair and shaved it all off. The immediate cost savings in hair salon and gel costs was encouraging. Looking kind of badass was also a bonus.
A decade later, a few months before my 20th high school reunion, I'm looking at life a bit differently. I'm not young anymore. And I'm more dad than bad. I'm also going grey. This upon first glance may seem like a negative, but then I think why shoot for Vin Diesel when you can shoot for George Clooney?
So now as I enter the dreaded awkward "no man's land" stage between baldness and stylable length hair, I am putting it out there that I am doing this. Otherwise, I will chicken out and shave it again the first time some kid tries to blow seeds off the top of my dandelion head. There's no point to this post. It serves only to keep me on track. My apologies for those of you who feel like pawns in my little game. Maybe you can help me pick a new hairstyle?
There is a community living among us that few outside observers have successfully documented, let alone infiltrated. It is a collective of beings who organize themselves in complex social networks based upon tribes and niches. They frolic on Pandora, but can also be found on Twitter, Facebook , Flickr and other imaginary worlds. And their lifeblood is a seemingly infinite energy source called comments and connection. This community I speak of is the world of women bloggers. And I ran among them for three days.
This is my story.
Prologue
You can say I was recruited for this mission four months ago. Selected by the US Potato Board to participate in the Tastemaker Challenge, I was the sole male representative out of nine contestants pitted against each other to do creative things with potatoes and put them on YouTube. After I had accepted the assignment, there was a conference call.
“And for the final challenge, we’re sending you all to cook live. At Blissdom.”
The Adventure
Before I knew it, I was placed into a metal sleep chamber with the words Southwest painted on the side. When I awoke, I found myself in Nashville, TN, carrying a swag bag containing a “smoky eyes” kit, facemask creams, binkies and bling. My mission had begun. As I explored this new world called the Opryland Resort, I couldn’t help but notice how sharp the color-coded rugs were, and how 3-D the vegetation looked under the resort’s bio-domed enclosure.
I knew I had little time to waste, but was hesitant to just jump feet-first into this community. Sure, my feet were sporting new shoes I bought just for Blissdom, but just because you look the part, doesn’t mean the tribe will accept you.
Luckily this acclimation period was made a lot easier by friends I had on the inside. Julie made the cross-country journey with me, and I had Tanis, Rachel and Melanie on speed dial. No matter how confident, one must never step into a conference full of women bloggers without someone to vouch that you're a "friend of ours." It worked for Donnie Brasco, it works for BusyDad.
My first day was spent simply adjusting to the environment. Diving right into an estrogen fueled crowd has seriously scarred brave predecessors of mine. And like the bends, it can mess with your blood. By the late evening, however, I had taken a good dose of Jack Daniel's magic elixir and thus began my night of exploration. To my pleasant surprise, the crowd was very friendly. And I never once had to dig into my aresnal of secret ninja moves from the government.
But they did make me learn their ways. My mind was an empty vessel. I was thirsty for knowledge. And, as it turns out, not at all allergic to feathers.
(That's me bein' gangsta fabulous with Rachel. I posed this way because when Secret Agent Mama asks you to pose for a picture, you don't say no.)
Here's one of me just having a great time with the natives. I don't remember when this was taken. I don't really remember taking it. The official reason on the post-mission brief is: the oxygen on that planet is too thin and I was lightheaded. Go with it.
(Mishi, Rachel, Melanie and me. Because everyone celebrates the unveiling of Google Buzz by getting...)
The next day, I was feeling a lot more comfortable in my new skin. Mostly because I got to do what I came to do: cook. The Tastemaker Challenge finals took place Friday night and it was everything you'd ever want in a cooking showdown. An array of ingredients, fanfare, drink tickets and my very own Team Jim cheerleading squad.
(Lotus, Tanis and Mishi. I had to beg them repeatedly not to kneecap the other contestants. Especially Tanis, who was weilding a bedazzled pimp cane all weekend. I still have welts. Not pictured, Vodkamom... and my welts.)
(My assignment was to use feta cheese in a potato salad. Note exasperation on face and 3rd vodka gimlet next to small bowl. Pic courtesy of Secret Agent Mama.)
When the dust settled, I was waist-deep in random chopped up items. I figured if my dish wasn't going to win, I would at least have fun with the fact that I didn't have to clean up my mess. Plus, I have this thing for blades.
Even though I didn't win, the victories went to two very deserving competitors: Jo Lynne won in the video category, racking up the most votes over the past three months, and Rachel won the evening's judging with this dish.
[insert more random stuff in here so that people don't realize that you don't remember much between that and the next picture.]
The next day can be summed up with one word: Karaoke
(Yeah. I know. Watch the video. Pic courtesy of Rachel.)
If you couldn't tell from this post, I had an amazing time mixing and mingling with the women of Blissdom. Admittedly, I was very apprehensive going into it. While I had been to Blogher before, there is a growing male contingent at that conference, so at least you have your school of fish to hide in if needed. This time, however, I was literally the only male on the registration list of 500. While I knew that my closer friends would be ok with this, I really wasn't sure how the others would take to my crashing the party. On the final evening, I shared this sentiment with a small group who had assembled in Blissdom founders Alli Worthington and Barbara Jones' suite.
"I wasn't sure if I'd be accepted here..." I muttered.
"We don't just accept you, we welcome you, Jim" Alli responded.
Don't get me wrong. I don't harbor any disdain for those who are devout in their beliefs. In fact, I quite admire someone who can devote themselves to their faith, in the same way I admire that French spiderman guy who free-climbs skyscrapers. Church just simply scares the crap out of me. I'm talking about cold sweats, vertigo. I'm talking about my blood pressure rising when I set foot in a church. My face flushing. Feeling light headed.
As most people have the complete opposite reaction to churches, I have often been asked why of all things a spiritual sanctuary like this can frighten me so. The simple answer is I am spiritually inept. I suck at all things church. I grew up Catholic. And while I have always been good with anything that you need to study out of a book, I was always bad at Sunday School. Failed every quiz. Asked the wrong questions. Couldn't tell my apostles from my saints from my disciples. And the teachers and other kids made it known that I sucked. Being the only Asian kid in a working class Irish neighborhood might have contributed a teensy bit to the post Sunday-school teasing and beat downs that I suffered while waiting for my mom to pick me up, but since I was on church grounds, I considered it church jurisdiction.
And when it came time to re-register for Sunday School one spring day (I think they called it CCD back then?). I simply said no. I was in fourth grade then, so I knew I was facing one hell heck of a maelstrom by saying no, but I stuck to my guns. I had never, nor have I since, openly defied my mother. Self preservation is a strong instinct.
And for close to two decades, I admired churches from afar, or on postcards.
Then I got married. To a Filipino woman. And they'll give the Boston Irish a run for their money on the Catholic devotion front any day. I love Lisa's family and they don't beat me down when I skip church when we visit on the holidays (it helps that I'm usually cooking them a vat of my Killa Clam Chowda while they're worshipping), so the whole Catholicism thing in general isn't as scary anymore. But on the few occasions where I have gone to church in my adult life (weddings, funerals, etc), I suffer that entire list of symptoms they read at the end of designer pharmaceutical ads. Including oily discharge.
Seeing as we have a kid together, the inevitable question of Fury's religious upbringing was one challenge that Lisa and I had to face early on. I respect her religious views. And while I'm of the opinion that Fury should pick whatever religion HE feels will fulfill him spiritually, I am willing to give Catholisicm a head start, since his mom is Catholic. And he's really too young to make that decision for himself now anyway. Hell, I'M too young to make that decision. Heck, I mean heck. Sorry.
So we got him baptized when he was a baby. Part of that required his parents (yes, me) to attend baptism classes. And for the love of my wife and son, I sucked it up and did it. And I attended the baptism too. And did not pass out. Or go up in flames.
Now we've got another little one on the way.
And Lisa made arrangements for soon-to-be baby Alessia's baptism. I figured, "ok, one afternoon in church. Just hold your breath, smile and it'll all be over quickly." But no. I have to take the class again. This time, they're requiring two classes.
So last night, parked outside the church, I took several slow deep breaths to get my heart rate down.
"Seriously?" she asked.
"Seriously." I responded.
I joked that once I set foot in that church, lightning would strike me down. Lisa said "I know. Sinner." In her deadpan I'm-joking-but-you-are-still-going-to-hell manner.
As I took a seat at the table, I could feel my face beginning to flush, my fingertips going numb. But as class went on, I have to admit that the modern Catholic church is a lot kinder and gentler than I remember from the 70s. I was going to make it. I mumbled through the prayers (like when I used to lip synch in chorus) and sat through the baptism powerpoint presentation. But I had to chuckle then this slide came up:
"I renounce the Prince of Darkness"
Whoa. whoa. whoa. What's Ozzy got to do with it? No way. He rocks. And even if the Dalai Lama himself told me to stop playing "Crazy Train" to my son, I'd tell him to go pick on Nirvana or something.
Mumble mumble prince of mumble mumble...
I was doing OK. This class wasn't that bad. God is not going to call me out. I see the finish line...
"WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAA WAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
Yup. The fire alarm.
When judgment day arrives, you'll find me at the back of the southbound bus playing sudoku with Ozzy Osbourne.
Thursday, March 11, 2010 
For the kid-writing impaired the above can be translated as: Buy a money maker and make a million and buy a mansion and a nice car like a Lamborghini or a Rolls Royce.
For the kid-writing impaired, the above can be translated to: I'll be famous for making the show "A Day in a Life" and I'll watch basketball all the time and repeats of my show.I learned that although it pains me to shell out $1000 a month for private school, you cannot put a pricetag on ambition, or an appreciation for fine automobiles.
