(More) Leftovers on Parade: Turkey “Sam”-wich

November 30, 2010

Under construction.

I posted my family’s turkey barley soup leftovers, so it only feels fair to post a picture of the other leftovers I spoke of: Sam’s Thanksgiving sandwich. (You can see why my clever mother dubbed this the “Sam”-wich.)

I’m surprised that he’s managed to make the mashed potatoes and stuffing last for so many days. I’m sort of a vacuum for leftovers. We make turkey barley soup the Saturday after Thanksgiving because everything but the carcass is GONE.

Here’s the finished product…


Meanwhile, I was cooking up a batch of leftovers-to-be, featuring ground turkey. (WHAT? I cook?!) (Okay– turkey meatballs, angel hair pasta, Paul Newman’s Sockarooni sauce and microwave-in-bag cauliflower is not exactly gourmet. But it IS delicious.)

"Something in Italian!"

I can’t wait to go home and eat this again tonight… and for several subsequent nights. I’m so boring, I know. But I like what I like.

(I always add cauliflower because my friend Karen’s mom once made us a dish with ground beef, cauliflower and red sauce… probably from scratch… and the combo of those three flavors was amazing to me. So I paid it the highest compliment, by trying to imitate it.)

You’re probably thinking that it’s pretty soon to be eating turkey again… especially since many of you (Sam included) are still working on Thanksgiving turkey. But I kinda forgot that my meatballs were turkeyballs until I was cooking them… and they don’t taste like Thanksgiving turkey, so it’s all good.

“How did she forget that turkey is turkey?” you logical people ask. Growing up, my mom always used ground turkey for burgers and meatballs and I didn’t find out until I was… twelve? So ground turkey is kinda beef, in my mind. (And explains why restaurant burgers tasted so much different than Mom’s.)

Speaking of home, here’s another peek at Daisy (with her “baby,” as my dad calls it)…

Cute overload.

It’s actually a fake Tiffany’s box… I don’t know if you can see, but it says “Sniffany’s.” Diamonds are a girl dog’s best friend?

I miss her already. Too bad dogs aren’t into Skyping. (We tried to get Daisy to chat with another dog on Thanksgiving– but that didn’t spark her interest at all. Nothing to smell… sniff… Sniffany’s.)

But I digress.

Enjoy your leftovers tonight– whether they’re old, new, or in-the-making.


Leftovers on Parade: Turkey Barley Soup

November 28, 2010

Circle carrots! I approve this soup.

As mentioned earlier, here is a peek at our annual post-Thanksgiving turkey barley soup.

We make it in a huge vat.

Soup's on.

I’m not sure if that’s technically a huge vat, or just a large pot. Sorry, maybe I exaggerated.

This is probably the one time per year that I eat parsnips. I like parsnips! They’re like… white carrots. Maybe they ARE white carrots. (According to Wikipedia, I’m right!) If a carrot and a radish and a potato had a baby, it might be a parsnip.

And here’s a close-up, for the barley’s sake.

Too close.

There’s barley and there’s rice, and I don’t think you can see it in this picture but the Manischewitz soup mix contributed a few alphabet pastas.

Daisy didn’t eat any, but nonetheless she appears to have fallen into a food coma…


I think I might follow her lead.


Snacks of the (Halloween) Weekend

November 1, 2010

Eat at your own risk.

Hope you had a most excellent Halloween! Here are some pictures I took especially for you. Sort of.

I had never seen Monster Munch before, and I hope I never see it again. I encountered this snack at a Halloween party, and decided to give it a taste… you know, for science.

Remember (on “30 Rock”) when Liz Lemon used to snack on Sabor de Soledad cheese puffs? And it turned out that one of the ingredients was bull semen? I’m pretty sure the (imaginary) makers of Sabor de Soledad are also the makers of Monster Mash. The crackerpuff things tasted really funky, and made my fingers smell bad.


After a looong Saturday night of festivities, I looked forward to Sunday brunch. We ended up at Le Pain Quotidien, which I would describe as an upscale European version of Panera.

Why European? Where else would a (wild mushroom) omelet come with French bread and salad?

I am happy to see my omelet, and it's happy to see me.

I did that to the tomatoes. In case you’re wondering.

The bread was awesome. The omelet was cold, and the mushrooms made me feel a bit sick. Luckily Cole and I split our omelets (his was tomato and avocado), so I only felt half as sick as I would have.

All (well… some) was forgiven when they gave us free chocolates with our check! I was all over the chai.


After brunch, Cole and I wandered around at The Grove (it’s an outdoor mall… just like everything else in Southern California) for a bit. I saw a few people wearing Justin Bieber shirts, and couldn’t figure out if they were in costume or had bad taste. Turned out that the Beeb was about to do a book signing at the Barnes & Noble. As we continued toward the bookstore, we encountered a cluster of screaming teens, holding shoddily constructed signs.

Of all the times to go to The Grove. Ugh.

We went to Sur la Table to get a belated birthday gift for my sister, and ended up giving the whole store a once-over. Cooking stuff is so fascinating to me, even though I rarely cook. They had donut pans! And mini donut pans! And brownie pop pans! (Are brownie pops that popular? Are they even a thing??)

Also, I thought donuts were made via boiling, not baking. Maybe I was thinking of bagels? I don’t know.

The cookie cutters were fascinating. They had everything you could imagine, and more– dinosaurs, musical instruments, letters of the alphabet, etc. I saw the rhinoceros and hippopotamus next to each other, and immediately thought of “Jersey Shore.”

Grab a few gorillas for Snooki and J-Woww.

Keep that in mind for your next “Jersey Shore” party. No grenades!

For several years I’ve intended to go to the WeHo parade, but I never actually make it over there. This year I decided to go home and visit my dog. (And my parents, because they also happened to be there.) Daisy turned out to be almost alarmingly fatigued… like, she wouldn’t even jump up on the couch to say hi. She just fell to the floor, stomach-up. Lazy Daisy.

My mom wanted to make some sort of pumpkin dessert. We vetoed pie because it’s really best if it sets overnight. I ended up baking pumpkin muffins (using the Trader Joe’s mix… just add eggs, oil and water) and icing them with cream cheese frosting. They were pumpkin spicy and delightful. And I think the frosting turned them into cupcakes? Maybe.

Good call.

I wish I’d brought a few back to LA. Would have made a nice (unhealthy) breakfast today.

I’d been looking forward to ordering from our favorite Thai place for dinner, but it was closed… and so was the other Thai place we called. We settled on Chinese from China Panda. People think I’m crazy (or racist?) because I sometimes say “China Panda” when I mean to say “Panda Express,” but it’s because I grew up ordering from China Panda.

I DID bring those leftovers back, and they made a delightful lunch today. I thought I brought more than enough to work, but my eyes were actually smaller than my stomach. (I think that’s biologically true, as well.)

Everything in its place.

I guess the stereotype is true… Jews eating Chinese food on American holidays.

During dinner the trick or treaters began to arrive, and Daisy regained her energy. I had to chase her into the street to prevent her from… running into the street. (So… I failed.)

I get creeped out when I’m the giver of candy, because I don’t like opening the door to strangers. The general feeling that people are lurking out in the dark is one of my biggest blechs. So how to I feel about trick or treating? You do the math.

And as a kid, I always felt awkward about taking the candy, because it seemed greedy. And saying “thank you” didn’t remedy my guilt/shame about being a little brat. (And then my mom would only let us keep a few pieces… so it was all so futile!)

So… I came home for Daisy and Thai, and got a little of one and none of the other. And had to deal with my trick or treat anxiety. Maybe I should have gone to the parade.

NEXT YEAR! (Or not… again.)

In the meantime, keep your hippos on a leash.


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