|Monday bullets because I'm still damp
||[Oct. 4th, 2010|03:55 pm]
And not in a good way. Bada boom.|
We have had overall, the best weather I can remember for a faire season. Although admittedly, Virginia heat may have fried some brain cells.
So my bitching about the rain has a lot more to do with not being prepared to slog across the whole faire site in the mud, in meshtopped sneakers, after a long day of trying not to let my fatigue win. I've found that if I get plenty of sleep, eat reasonably well, other than the mystery jointpain, I don't get sick. No matter what's going around. But exhausted and soaked to the bone -- while I personally could have remedied both, I'd much rather play victim. Sooooo, Expletive You, Rain, I'm an Anteater!
I came across the best name ever today: Ginger Cloud. I feel like if that was my name, I'd be happy all of the time. I wonder if she is, or if, to her, it's just her damn name and she wishes her parents weren't hippies, or big Gilligan's Island fans.
I also came across a business name that is just spot-on. A composting facility called "Compost and Other B.S."
And, while continuing my composting research, a company name that pretty much I am unable to say, without doing that overcareful enunciation that will lead people to think that I've had waaaay too much to drink: Wamona Worm Wanch. Dude, I can NOT say that. Not even in my HEAD.
So, take some shelled shrimp, lay them out on a plate, salt and pepper them generously. Cut a containersworth of grape or small cherry tomatoes in halves, toss them in a bowl with fresh basil, a couple of cloves of pressed garlic, zest from a lemon, salt, pepper, and toss all with olive oil just to coat. Think to yourself...this could use something a bit more. Screw the diet. And add a nice crumbled chunk of feta. Saute the shrimp in generous olive oil. I told you to lay it out like that because you're going to wait until a water droplet tossed in the heated oil pops.
Then, as quickly as possible, you're going to lay the shrimp salt/pepper side down in the oil. wincing as the oil pops your tender inner wrist. Don't be a wuss; you're not going to die, keep going so you get them all in there fast.
Now, salt and pepper the side facing up and don't otherwise touch them or move them. Seriously. Back away from the pan. This is why you never get a golden brown crust on anything; you can't resist dicking around with it, wiggling and tossing. Stop. Give it two minutes, pick one up, if it's nice and golden, then QUICK, flip them all as fast as you can. Back away and give them a minute at most, depending on how cooked they are. Turn off the flame or move the pan and let them cook on the residual panheat for another minute or two.
While away the time by picking at the feta cheese in your tomato mixture. Go get some more feta from the fridge when you realize you've eaten most of it. Now, lift the shrimp out of the pan with tongs. TONGS. No spoons or spatulas. Do not remove any of that shrimpy goodness liquid in the pan.
Once the shrimp are safe on the sidelines, heat the pan back up and toss your tomato mixture in. Saute on high heat for about three or four minutes -- just long enough for...omigod, did the tomato juice and melted feta just make an ambrosial sauce while I was standing here trying to read this freaking verbose recipe?
Yes, it did. Toss the shrimp back in to warm briefly and serve over whole wheat orzo or brown basmati rice so that the guilt at eating something so rich-tasting doesn't kill you dead.