Things That I Pull Off

My cousin called me brave. I'd like to think I am  - except it was so easy. Of course so is falling out of an airplane, which is definitely brave. So I guess I will accept her accolade. A few weeks ago she (my cousin again) fed me her leftover Pineapple Curry, which was so good, I needed to have more. I think it was extra good because I happened to be working on the Wenatchee Complex Fire when she fed it to me and I was really over the camp food. Anyway, I found a place here in Bend that makes it pretty dang close to the original, which isn't really probably the original but since it was my first exposure to Pineapple Curry, we'll just call it the original. For expediency. (if you're curious, try it at Angel Thai in Bend)

So last night, feeling all homebound after lolling around sickly on my couch for two days, I decided to get a little creative with dinner. Let me tell you, I did this with some fear and trepidation, since my cooking efforts lately have not been coming off in Rachel Ray fashion like they usually do for me. It all started with the carmel that I made last weekend. Every year I swear I will boil it longer. I'll wait for that candy thermometer to bump over the soft ball mark. I will be patient. But every year, and especially this year, for some reason, I get impatient and start dipping my apples Too Soon. So I wound up with a 9x13 pan of caramel sauce instead of caramel candies. It's delicious, for sure, and my buddy and I have found a plethera of uses for it. For example: candy corn dipped in caramel is amazing, as are chips ahoy/caramel sandwiches. It also dissolves nicely in hot apple juice - which we use instead of cider because I am either too lazy or too cheap to seek out the Real Thing. I even smothered my last apple crisp (under the crisp part) with caramel sauce and it was amazing. Even though Josh never even noticed. Sometimes I think that his taste buds are all wired wrong and the only thing that tastes good to him is ketchup and chemicals. The man literally lives on Crystal Lite and Ketchup. Gross. Anyway, After the caramel fiasco, which was still redeemable, I got in this great I'm-cooking-from-scratch-for-fall kick, and successfully destroyed two entire pots of beans. How one can actually destroy beans, and more than one batch in a row, is pretty interesting, but lets just say it had something to do with first not cooking long enough, and then reheating too soon, and then overcooking altogether when I got bored paying attention to them. Good thing beans are cheap. And pots. Um.... But really, after spending three days and about $40 in scentsy trying to eradicate the smell of burnt beans (which is something akin to burnt hair) from the kitchen, I am definitely cooking gun-shy. That's what I get for trying to be healthy. And cheap.

Back to last night: I googled myself up a curry recipe or two and decided to make my own Pineapple Curry. I didn't have any chicken on hand but I had this shrimp in the freezer that I had been saving for some unknown occasion when freezerburn would be appropriate. So I made Pineapple Shrimp Curry. And It was good. I threw a little hot chili paste in so it was about 2 stars spicy (I am clarifying what the stars indicate to avoid the confusion I had when my cousin said her Pineapple curry was only two stars and I assumed it was poor quality), but even Aspen liked it. Mostly because she thinks she's awesome when she eats shrimp. I don't know why. Something about they have poop in them and she doesn't care? True to form, I didn't follow any of the recipes I found, but kinda jerry rigged one up myself. And it worked! Eat your heart out, Rachel Ray.

Pineapple Shrimp Curry

2 TBSP coconut oil
1 can pineapple chunks
1 lb shrimp (or however much you think you want?)
2 green peppers, chopped
fresh ginger

1 can coconut milk
fish sauce (a TBSP or so)
1.5 TBSP green curry paste (or red - but I had green)
soy sauce

I stir fried the shrimp, garlic, ginger, peppers and pineapple in the coconut oil with a splash of soy sauce, then whisked all the sauce ingredients together and poured over the stir fry in the wok and let it all simmer a little while. You can thicken the sauce with corn starch if you want but I just served it over rice. You can also add a little of the pineapple juice for more flavor. I added about a 1/4 cup. 

Things That Worry Me

I have an interview today. And for all of my fashion expertise (hahahahahahahahahahaah. ahhhh. hahahahahahahhaha) I am really bad at dressing myself in anything other than jeans and hoodies. As my good old bff will attest, nothing grants as much mid-section grace as a hoodie. Sure, you might look pregnant, but those dang kangaroo pocket obscure things just enough that most people think twice about asking. Except that bimbo in the checkout line. Why is it ALWAYS my cashier that loves to stick her foot in her mouth?

"Ohmygosh! When are you due? Are you SO excited? Boy or Girl? Is it your first?" all comes out before I manage to snap : "Not pregnant. Just fat. Thanks" That shuts her up. Every time. It always seems to happen just after I drop three pounds and I start to feel like I Am Awesome. Pride goeth...

Anyway, back to dressing for an interview, and doing it badly. The worst part about today is that I am interviewing for a classy clothing/housewares store (I know, right? What is that, IKEA/Coldwater Creek? Close!) - the new Pendleton Wool Outlet that's opening here in bend. Josh says I should wear a dress because slacks scream lesbian. I am not sure what makes him say that, other than he is worried about someone of ANY gender hitting on me and I look so dang good in slacks. Especially the kind with pleats. My personal sense is that I should go looking like something that my grandmother would approve of, and I don't have any of those kinds of dresses. So slacks it is. Pendleton Wool always reminds me of my grandma, maybe because she kept a little Pendleton blanket in the back seat of her Volkswagon Rabbit that was really itchy and smelled like her cigarettes, which is somehow really comforting sounding right now. All I really know is that my interview is at noon and if I start dressing now I might have settled on something that I only hate a little by the time I absolutely have to leave. Moments like this I really wish I could have my fashion forward cousin body double for me, or my I-do-professional-every-day sister in law. I don't suppose Pendleton makes hoodies?

I have an interview tomorrow as well. Tomorrow's interview is much more my style. It's a warehouse job that sounds a little bit sucky except people bring their dogs to work, and they said if I dress up at all for the interview they would probably make fun of me behind my back. No really, he said that. Guess who's rocking a hoodie to an interview? The only thing I don't like about this job prospect is that the warehouse is unheated. And I hate being cold. Only slightly less than I hate being hungry or bored, but it still ranks near the top of my Least Favorite Things. Also, this job is potentially full time, and as I discussed with Josh last night, I am really not looking for full time work. I would really be best suited to an on call job - where I can work when I call them and tell them I want to. Which would probably be from like 10 am - 10 pm one day a week. Or like noon to midnight 4 days a week so I don't have to make dinner or help with homework. But only once a month. I am an excellent candidate.

Why exactly, you ask, with such lofty employment aspirations, am I even applying for jobs? Truth be told it's mostly to appease the guilt I have for my impulsive spending habits, and for the employee discount. Can you imagine a whole house of Pendleton awesomeness? I have one Pendleton Blanket. The limited edition Smokey Bear Throw. Of course. It's one of my favorite possessions, obviously, and nothing makes me mad like picking Truck hair off of this gem. That's the trouble with wool. By now my blanket has softened up nicely and it shakes out pretty well, but Truck is well enough trained that if the Smokey blanket is out on the couch he takes one sniff and steers a wide berth around it. Emmy needs some more training in this, apparently.

Anyway, I'll let you know how the interviews go, but if I were you, I'd be rooting for epic fails, because they're way funnier to talk about. Like that time I interviewed for the Buckle. That was awesome. There's nothing like a homely, too-skinny girl with Tammy Faye makeup, patronizing you for your million kids and "crazy busy" job history. Apparently they were looking for focused career types at the Buckle. Someone to really grab jean sales by the horns and look towards retirement. And also someone with more hairspray. Maybe I should have worn a hoodie to that one.

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