Monthly Archives: January 2007

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Stink. Stank. Stunk.

I should never have changed the sheets.

When Poppy woke up this morning, there was a little stain on her sheet. She has another molar coming in, so I’m pretty sure it was a bit of bloody drool.

(I know that’s gross. But trust me, this gets grosser.)

So I changed the sheet, and we went downstairs and did our thing.* While Poppy napped with The Buddies (Elmo, Ernie, Grover and Big Bird), I played Zelda** and washed the dishes and Flickred a bit. I heard Poppy wake up and gave her a few minutes of solo playtime before I went upstairs to fetch her.

That was my second mistake.

She was holding Grover triumphantly over her head, as she normally does after her nap. But instead of her usual greeting — “Halooooo! Grogo! — she said a single word that made my blood run cold: “Poop!”

She was so cheerful. And so stinky.

There was pooh everywhere. On the formerly fresh sheet. On Grover’s furry blue backside. All over poor Elmo. On Ernie’s fashionably stripey shirt. On Poppy’s big toe. E v e r y w h e r e.

I whisked Poppy up (at arm’s length) and into the bathroom. After gingerly removing her soiled duds and setting to work on the woefully inadequate diaper, I discovered an additional horror. An even more horrible horror.

Her feet.

She must have done the jig in the pooh. The soles of her dainty feet were coated in it.

So I scrubbed her feet with baby wipes*** and put her in the bath to scrub her some more and washed the buddies and dried her off and put on a new diaper and took off the nasty sheet and put Elmo (the only machine-washable Buddy) in a pillowcase and threw the whole shebang (minus Poppy, of course) into the washing machine and dressed Poppy, and then we went to the post office.

And then we came home. And I gave Poppy a snack. And I sat down to write this.

And then I found pooh on my sleeve.

. . . . .

*Our thing:

  • having a little breakfast
  • playing
  • watching “Sesame Street”
  • reading a couple dozen books three or four times over
  • playing some more
  • having lunch
  • more playing and reading
  • naptime

    **A little freakier than normal this time. I turned into a wolf? Dude.

    ***and clogged the toilet with said wipes, which was a whole ‘nother adventure.

    . . . . . the end . . . . .

    • Eating

    Spicy Sunday


    Kung Pao!
    Originally uploaded by nichole_e.

    I’ve had a “Cook’s Illustrated” recipe for Kung Pao Shrimp in my to-try file for almost a year now. I’ve become a bit of a P.F. Chang’s addict in the last several months, so I thought it would be a good time to give it a try.

    I’m happy to say that it was delicious. It had a nice heat without being fiery, and the flavor was almost spot-on with what I expect Kung Pao to be. I think it might have been perfect if I hadn’t forgotten to get ginger today; I mixed ginger powder in with the cornstarch, but I don’t think it was an adequate fix. I didn’t have any dried chiles, either, but I’m not sure that they would add all that much to the dish. They would be nice for aesthetics, though.

    Kung Pao Shrimp
    from Cook’s Illustrated
    Serves 4
    1 pound extra-large shrimp (21 to 25 count), peeled and deveined
    1 tablespoon dry sherry or rice wine
    2 teaspoons soy sauce
    3 medium cloves garlic , pressed through garlic press or minced
    (about 1 tablespoon)
    1/2-inch piece fresh ginger , peeled and minced (about 2 teaspoons)
    3 tablespoons peanut oil or vegetable oil
    1/2 cup roasted unsalted peanuts
    6 small whole dried red chiles (each about 1 3/4 to 2 inches long), 3
    chiles roughly crumbled, or 1 teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
    3/4 cup low-sodium chicken broth
    2 teaspoons black rice vinegar or plain rice vinegar
    2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
    1 tablespoon oyster sauce
    1 tablespoon hoisin sauce
    1 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch
    1 medium red bell pepper , cut into 1/2-inch dice
    3 medium scallions , sliced thin

    1. Toss shrimp with sherry and soy sauce in medium bowl; marinate until shrimp have absorbed flavors, about 10 minutes. Mix garlic, ginger, and 1 tablespoon oil in small bowl; set aside. Combine peanuts and chiles in small bowl; set aside. Mix chicken broth, vinegar, sesame oil, oyster-flavored sauce, hoisin sauce, and cornstarch in small bowl or measuring cup; set aside.

    2. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in 12-inch skillet over high heat until just beginning to smoke. Add shrimp and cook, stirring about once every 10 seconds, until barely opaque, 30 to 40 seconds; add peanuts and
    chiles, stir into shrimp, and continue cooking until shrimp are almost completely opaque and peanuts have darkened slightly, 30 to 40 seconds longer. Transfer shrimp, peanuts, and chiles to bowl; set
    aside. Return skillet to burner and reheat briefly, 15 to 30 seconds. Add remaining 1 tablespoon oil, swirl to coat pan, and add red bell pepper; cook, stirring occasionally, until slightly softened, about 45
    seconds. Clear center of pan, add garlic-ginger mixture, mash into pan with spoon or spatula, and cook until fragrant, 10 to 15 seconds; stir into peppers until combined. Stir broth mixture to recombine, then add to skillet along with reserved shrimp, peanuts, and chiles; cook, stirring and scraping up browned bits on bottom of pan, until sauce has thickened to syrupy consistency, about 45 seconds. Stir in scallions; transfer to serving plate and serve immediately.

    Flotsam / Jetsam

    I think I need a makeover.

    Way back in October, we learned that Rockford was a ringer for Magnum PI and that I resembled Sissy Spacek. But then time passed and beards were shaved, and now Rockford is channeling Hugh Jackman. Or Mark Ruffalo. Nice either way.

    I’m not sure why his head is so shiny in that picture. Perhaps he is actually beaming with joy.

    As for me …

    Seriously? Am I that mannish? Four out of eight? And Shirley Temple is one of my female look-a-likes? Sheesh.

    I ran the little doo-dad again, hoping it was a fluke. And indeed, it didn’t tell me I looked like Richard Gere. But I’m pretty sure the presence of Rod Stewart, the Dalai Lama and Babe Ruth means I need a makeover anyway. And soon.

    I would like it to be official noted, though, that the very lovely Petra Nemcova was on my list all three times.

    . . . . . the end . . . . .