We have finally started to move into our new apartment. It’s just one floor up, but we essentially have a whole week to move. Making it a smooth piecemeal type move.
With all the new space Oscar is finding some good hiding spots.
Author: meisaj
Living in the Cleve
Pizza Logs and Tortilla Chips
I like to cook. Its not a secret. Buffalo Chicken Dip (started making that years ago). Vegetable stew from scratch. Baking cookies, cinnamon muffins, and other goodies. Recently I’ve started making pizza from scratch (including dough) as well as pretzels from scratch. I even experimented with a bunch of Mac n Cheese variations.
This last weekend I got a craving for Pizza Logs. I haven’t ever seen pizza logs outside of Buffalo. I first started eating them when I was in college, and then later when I lived in Buffalo. You could order them just about anywhere. They looked like a really thing dough pizza slice rolled up. An order came with maybe four of them and a thing of marinara sauce for dipping. When I became a vegetarian it became even harder to find them. They usually came with pepperoni in them. Occasional I could find a store that sold them, but the majority of the time I had to order them from fast food places.
So on Saturday I decided I would make some. After looking up recipes online I went with one made from Egg Roll shells. I ran out to the store with Sam and picked up Egg Roll Shells, mozzarella cheese ( a big hunk), and some pizza sauce. Thawed out the Egg Roll shells when we got home and we got started. You place the Egg Roll shell diamond ways, put some sauce, cheese and whatever else you like to add in the middle (Sam and I experimented with crushed red peppers, spicy sea salt, blackened cajun spice, honey and hot sauce; as well as adding different cheeses with the mozzarella. Not all at once, but on alternating wraps). Fold the wrap almost in half (not quite triangle shaped), fold the two corners inand then roll up the shell. Use water (like we did) or use a beaten egg to seal the Egg Wrap shut (a little moisture locks it in place). Now in my greasiest memories Pizza Logs were definitely deep fried, but we baked them on a greased cookie sheet in the oven at 400 for about ten minutes (turning once). I used the rest of the pizza sauce as dipping sauce.
It was pretty amazing. Both the honey and the hot sauce turned out really well. We did decided that instead of spicing up the pizza log itself, it would be better to spice up the dipping sauce. But really, they were fantastic. And really easy and fast to make.
Tonight after a light dinner (buffalo chicken wrap: diced chicken, lettuce, tomato, cheddar cheese on a big burrito shell with hot sauce and blue cheese dressing) I wanted a little something more. I took four 6 inch flour taco shells and cut them up with a pizza slicer. I then heated up some vegetable oil in a skillet and lined a cookie sheet with paper towels. I fried the tortilla shells in the oil for about 20 seconds on each side and then threw them on the cookie sheet. Sprinkles them with some sea salt and a little bit of lemon juice (I didn’t have any lime juice) and bam; I’ve got myself some tortilla chips. They were a little bit thicker and just a slight bit softer than store bought, but really tastey and filling.
So yeah, quite enjoying cooking. I’ll keep at it I do believe.
Tale of Two Kitties
As you may or may not know, when Oscar’s face swelled up a few weeks ago I raced him to the vet (alright it was two days later that he went to the vet, but that’s racing in “AJ Emergency Mode”). There they found out that he had a bad tooth infection and wanted to pull the tooth. Before surgery they did some blood work and found out his kidneys were shutting down. The official term “Chronic Renial Infection”.
He is now on a special canned food diet and has to have a fluid IV every other day. His levels have come down closer to normal (still much higher than normal) but better. In six weeks we will try again and see how his blood levels go. Best case scenario they say is one to two years max left of life.
While there I mention that Angelo has been pooping outside of the box on occasion. Usually a few days at a time in front of the doorway out of the apartment. He sometimes would go a week and then out of nowhere poop in front of the door again. So I bring Angelo in for a visit, and the vet thinks that because it is only poop, and only in front of the door, and not any urine, that is mostly a headcase thing. He prescribes Prozac for Angelo. PROZAC.
So I have one cat who is on medicine and fluids and a special diet and another on prozac. I’m a good pet owner I swear.
Thumb Pangs
Two nights ago I had a painful dream. Physically. I have it often, every few months or so.
Its not so much the dream itself, but something I’m doing in the dream. Storyline or plot aside (my dreams are usually linear to a degree) I seem to be holding my thumb back as far as it will go. I have thumbs that are commonly referred to as “hitchhiker thumbs.” I can bend them back pretty far when giving a thumbs up.
In my dream, and usually on my right hand, I am holding my thumb back so far it is painful. And I can’t seem to straighten it or bend it back from that position. I usually end up grabbing it with my other hand to relieve some pressure and to manually straighten it some.
The problem being as soon as I let go my thumb goes straight back to the painful bent back position when I let go (this is all in the dream mind you).
Now I’m pretty sure I do this in real life while I’m sleeping as well. While I haven’t video taped myself sleeping or anything, I do wake up and my thumb hurts all day. It still hurts this morning from this dream two nights ago.
Like I said, this happens every few months. After a few days the pain goes away and I forget about it completely until I have the dream again.
Its strange as far as reoccurring dreams go.
Sandy
I thought I’d write a story. A true one. From my first apartment in Buffalo.
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Ugh. It was the doorbell. It was Saturday morning, near 8am. I had gone out the night before and hadn’t got in until near 5am. I lived in an upper in a two story house. I opened the top door and I saw my downstairs neighbor Sandy standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Aaaajjjjj…. there’s a dead cat outside.”
“What?” I managed to say. I was groggy, tired, and in boxers and a t-shirt at the top stairs barely comprehending what she’s saying. “Get Norm to take care of it,” I said.
I should explain that Norm and Sandy live together, and were a couple I suppose. Sandy was a well intentioned, but slightly unstable larger woman in her late 50’s. Norm is a slim old man who is almost always inebriated. They yelled and screamed at each other all the time. They also never shovel the driveway or sidewalk, help with yard work, or take the trash down to the corner. They both could be pleasant to your face, but spent their evenings arguing loudly and preventing anyone in the neighborhood from sleeping.
“Norm won’t get out of bed. He says he won’t do anything about it.”
“Alright Sandy, I’ll be down in a minute.”
I headed to my room and threw some pants on while cursing out loud. At this point I was living alone in my apartment, my roommate having moved out a few weeks early (and Rollin hadn’t moved in yet). I stumbled down the stairs without putting shoes on.
Sandy was waiting for me just outside the door.
“Its in the backyard under the tree,” she tells. She doesn’t leave the cement patio after I pass her. “Be careful!!! Don’t step on it.”
I look all around. I don’t see a dead cat.
” What are you talking about Sandy,” I said.
“IT’S RIGHT THERE!!!”
I leant down to touch the ground.
“DON’T TOUCH IT!!!”
“This?” I touched an object on the ground.
“yeah?” Sandy said. More a question than a statement.
“Its a tree root Sandy.”
“No its not. Its a dead cat.”
“Its a tree root.” I started knocking it with my knuckle.
“But tree roots are underground,” she tells me.
“They come above ground sometime Sandy. Its a tree root.”
Sandy came down to join me in the backyard. “It looks like a dead cat though right?”
I started walking past her back upstairs. “No. No it doesn’t. It doesn’t look anything like a dead cat.”
“Look from back here on the patio. Doesn’t it look like a dead cat from there?”
“I don’t care Sandy. I’m going back to bed.”
I went back to my room and let my head hit the pillow.
From downstairs I heard Sandy telling Norm “AJ says it is a tree root, not a dead cat.”
I couldn’t hear Norm’s reply. Nor did I care at that point.
A few weeks later Sandy has complications in a vein in her leg. It eventually leads to her death. I sometimes wonder why that is the only memory I have of Sandy after living above her for almost two years. In the end I don’t think another memory is needed. Sandy was strange. That’s for sure. And she saw dead cats instead of tree roots. Probably everywhere.
Wet
It was a wet day by any means. It rained all day. But we didn’t let that ruin our day. We relaxed in the morning. No tv, no radio, no sound but the rain outside. Reading the news with a cup of coffee on the couch with Sam next to some open windows surrounded by cats. Awesome start to the day.
After a few hours of that we cleaned up and headed to Chuppa’s Market. Chuppa’s Market is always a little indulgent. Pretzel Bread rolls. Butter Toffee Peanuts. Honey Peanut Butter made from scratch. A Caramel Popcorn Cob. And more. It’s a fun shopping experience for when you can’t make it to the West Side Market (especially since the West Side Market is closed on Sunday).
We then went to the Natural History Museum. I recently bought Sam and I a membership there. It rocks. I love it. They have an outdoor animal section that is all emergency rescues. The raccoons and otter sections are fantastic.
For some reason it was packed. We had to park far away and walk there… In a downpour. I loved it. Sam.. Not as much. But then I thought about how awesome it would be to see the otters in the rain. Sam and I became “those people” who had no common sense to stay out of the rain. It was a blast.
We returned to inside the museum to walk around all soaking wet. I don’t think anyone came within 5 feet of us if they could avoid it. After about forty minutes of wandering around the dampness and cool air got to us and it was time to leave.
A warm night of laundry and homemade Garlic Chicken Alfredo was a perfect night ender.
