The sun is up in Houston and we didn't fall victims of global warming. I still don't understand that whole idea. If we are globally warmed, then why am I wearing Uggs in my sunroom? ANYWAY, Josie Feliciano is back today and we are on another mission of reorganization. I use the term "we" loosely. I made the unorganization, and it means job security for Josie if I just make "baby steps" in this therapeutic endeavor.
The past few days the grocery stores have been packed with freaked out Houstonians buying supplies for survival as they go into "bunker mode". The first store to show the terror, as usual , is Spots. Liquor Store. This is a huge store that offer not only the best assortment of potent potables, but also a smorgasboard of high fat, decadent yumminess. Also, an impressive humidor, so if you need to drag on a Dunhill during the devastion, this is the place. If push comes to shove,it is possible to prepare for Armagedon with one stop shopping. Pay cash and you get a discount.
When the weather gets in mass destruction mode, Tom Berenger has to be on emergency mode/lock down with his oil field fire fighting gig ,leaving me to fend for myself. Sort of. I checked in with Tiny Mama and Big Daddy, just in case my power goes out and was able to get a reservation with them early. This is key to survival. Always be prepared. This also shows the importance of calling before your siblings beat you to it. My brother, The Baby Jesus, lives in the city, so if he gotto her first, Tiny Mama would be busy killing the fatten calf, arranging his pictures, and making sure everything was perfect for the Second Coming and Spouse. He will probably be tired and need a nap after that 20 minute hell on the freeway, so Tiny Mama will have his room dark, with the sheets turned down. Did I mention he is the only son?
If my younger sib, Boo gets her call in first, or more likely goes stealth mode and starts sending in the beloved grandchildren/name sakes, then I'm gonna end up in the back seat of Big Daddy's Explorer. Luckily, I know where the can of Planter's Peanuts are kept in the console, and since I'll be in their garage, I will be able to make trips to the garage refrigerator.
Upside to being in the garage, I won't have to listen to my mother's "boyfriend" Bill O'Reilley or venture into THE NO SPIN ZONE during my frigid evacuation.Just exploring my options made me think I better take inventory of just what we did have on hand in case of a blizzard. I have read about the Donner Party, and I could easily become veal if Big Daddy has to go too long without pigskins or ice cream.
I found 6 different types of cocoa. Since I have a gas stove, I would be able to prepare a chocolate fondue, chocolate truffles, or just do a little chocolate molding like the Barefoot Contessa is currently demonstrating on HGTV.
Next, 8 jars of Cajun Injector Spicy marinade. Hmmmm. Don't think I'll be frying any turkeys since I haven't already gotten the basics for that recipe: Eight 10lb turkey and 5 gallons of peanut oil. But from the looks of my pantry, I had planned on it at one point.
Roasted red peppers, Sundried tomatoes, 3 half packages of jumbo pasta shells, 2 silver envelopes with the "cheese stuff" written in Sharpie pen. After a second I recognize these are the packages that come in Kraft Macaroni&Cheese and Tunisa has eaten the box of pasta but abstained from the cheese. She also abstained from cooking it. A weird thing that her father, The Baby Jesus, used to do. At any rate, pasta is a possibility.
4 pounds of confectioner's sugar. Put that with the cocoa and I'm thinking fudge.Just found 4 cans of Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk. Fudge is a real possibility. Not traditional, but certainly worthy of a church cookbook variation.
3 gallons of Major Peter's Bloody Mary mix. Why do we still have this? How long does Bloody Mary mix last. I could heat this up and call it soup. Or, nab that big jar of Jumbo Olives, use the partial bottles of Vodka, and attempt to dull the fear of impending disaster. All the way around, this works.
4 pounds of raw sugar. Those brown boxes were hiding in the back. That's why I keep buying it. I buy raw sugar because, as you can tell, I keep my body a temple, and am very picky about what I eat. I only use half&half with turbinado with my morning Nescafe'. Before you start feeling superior that I don't have one of those French-press deals or that fancy schmancy one shot-one cup coffee makers that everyone who is ANYONE has, let me share this tidbit. The Queen of England drinks Nescafe'. If it's good enough for one's monarch, it is good enough for the Fabulous Ma'am.
Cake flour, bleached &unbleached flour, self rising, and all purpose, plus a 4 pound bag (formerly 5 pound bag before our current unfortunate financial climate) of Dixie Crystal, and 10XX Superfine sugar. Crepes are a possibility. Or if I start right now, I can crank out some poundcakes for the duration.
6 jars of maraschino cherries. They don't look so good. Must be from a Mardi Gras party where they were key to the Planters Punch. Oops! Just found a jar that says Madagascar Vanilla Beans. So that's what happened to them. I open the jar and find what looks like fat earthworms that mistakenly got on the flagstone and died. Not to be wasteful, I put them in a cup and add a splash of Dripping Springs Texas Vodka.Those worms are expensive! In theory, they should plump up and then I can go to the next step of putting them in a decorative jar of sugar which I will use on just everything. Barefoot Contessa is my guru.She gave me this advice. She is a little chubby, so you know she is cooking all that stuff. She seems fun.Also, unlike some other domestic megabrand whose name will not be mentioned, Ina has a husband. And no prison time. I digress.
After perusing the pantry, I realize that if we lose electricity, I could easily find myself with 3 freezers thawing out all manner of God's creatures that Tom Berenger has shot, speared,hooked,or trapped. Let me stop right here and say that I do not eat what he kills. My theory is as long as there is a Piggly Wiggly, I do not need to track and kill dinner. I will not eat a face I have looked at. Not vegan, just citified. Let him be the chef on "Critter of the Day".
Happily, it is now 50 degrees. I plan to finish harvesting my frozen lemons and spin the juice out with my cool little juice weasel. Since we are not going to die of the coming Ice Age, I have found pleasure in knowing that my home is equipped for a pleasant survival.
Take the fresh lemonade,2 shots Vodka, 1 shot Cointreau,place in cocktail shaker, shake over ice. Rim the tastefully selected stem of glassware with lemon juice, follow with sugar, pour out a celebratory Lemondrop Martini.
Cheers to you my little survivalist.
I remain,
The Fabulous Ma'am
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