Sunday, September 25, 2011

Watermelon Beer

Walking into QFC there was only one thing on my mind "Beer Run" Of course to the casual observer having a 2 year in tow often makes a beer run look like poor parenting. So to offset the negative vibes I felt radiating off other QFC'ers I decided to buy a Pizza and Candy as well. Because it sure beats McDonalds. And I brush his teeth. So candy is ok.
Anyhow a six pack for $10.99 of canned beer? Why not spend $7.99 on a 24 pack of canned beer? BECAUSE  I want to set a precedent for Atlas. Top shelf only.
Long and short. 1) It taste like Watermelon.
                         2) I'm not an alcoholic
                         3) The 21st amendment repelled the 18th (Wikipedia told me so)

Also dont be caught looking at Koala Mens Swimwear with a  beer in hand by your neighbor coming over to ask if she can put some of her recyclables into your recyclables for trash day tomorrow. AWKWARD

Not really. She understood.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Coq au Vin

An attempt at cooking Coq au Vin in a crockpot.
For all those who know French that means something like "Chicken and Wine" with what I inferred as  "to be cooking in a crockpot."
For all those who actually know French, the cooking in a crockpot isn't implied at all. For those Americans out there who cook in a crockpot, please use the American recipe "Chicken and Red Wine In a Crockpot".
Anyhow
Recipe : Cook Coq au Vin an a crockpot and don't bother measuring out the amounts of wine you put in. Find a half full bottle of red wine (or half empty if your a pessimist) and put it all in there. Take your chicken, put it in there too. Take some Garlic and Onion and put it in there. Put some water in too for good luck. Now turn on your Crockpot.

Ok. Thats what I did too. Simple enough. But I left it for two days because I am lazy and decided to have a burrito the first night instead. Mexican over French 10 out of 11 times for me. Anyhow. The next day the house smells like what a French country side Villa would probably smell like if I lived in one. Red wine. Lots of it. Oozing out of the pores of the house while cows and sheep gently graze in the pasture behind the house, and I am still waking up from my morning jaunt to Germany to buy local meats. Only more of a cheap red wine that you only bothered drinking half of before leaving the bottle somewhere in the kitchen to be used in Coq Au Vin a few weeks later.
Long and short of it. It wasn't bad.