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Auntie Gertie sent this one to me via E-Mail. She’s priceless.

“Dear favorite Nephew,

I was just just thinking about you, so I thought I’d drop you a line. We’re doing okay overall, but your uncle seems to be having a bad day. I found him wearing a pair of my panties and one of your cousin’s half shirts, sitting on a bucket out in the yard. He had one of those knitted caps on- you know, those caps with the foldy-down ear flaps? It’s 83 degrees here, for crap’s sake! Oh, and I also caught him picking up used cigarette butts, and relighting them. But they weren’t our brand.

Anyway, Jeff got his disability check today, so were gonna make dinner- something real nice for me and that old crack pot.

Talk to you soon, Auntie G.

M.F.O.: 4, or 8, if Jeff gets in the kitchen. You may want to distract him with a magazine.

Auntie Gertie is our most colorful relative. She was virtually responsible for single- handedly bringing about the sexual revolution in the 60′s and 70′s.

With such offbeat recipes like “Well Hung Banana Bread”, and “Sexual Chocolate”, it’s no wonder she had as many suitors as she did.

Alas, Auntie got a little older, and decided to settle down. So, instead of bringing home a different guy every night, she cut it back to only two guys, twice a week. Then she met Uncle Jeff, and was instantly taken with his utter lack of social skills, internal filter, and general self- respect.

Since she had a “great” reputation in town, and her phone number posted in every bathroom in the tri- state area, she felt she wasn’t going to do any better than Jeff. She also felt she could have done worse- and she did. Like the visiting cadets from West Point- all 100 of them in the space of a long weekend.

Whatever faults Auntie Gertie has (low self esteem, Daddy issues, a standing penicillin prescription), she is still loved- by everyone over and over again.

One of her most redeeming qualities is that she can cook. Whether it’s road- killed possum,  brioche, or beef wellington, the lady has a knack for fixing the most delicious dishes you’ve ever tasted. Maybe it’s ’cause she feeds all of her “boyfriends”. Or maybe not. Whatever the reason is, she’s got it going on.

Uncle Jeff is married to Auntie Gertrude. He is certifiably insane. After years of chasing Auntie Gertie around, he just lost it one day while watching “Wheel of Fortune” in their “double- wide.”

Aunt Gertie came home to find him buck naked and licking the t.v. screen. For some reason only he knows, he feels that he can taste products in commercials, and loves the flavor of Avon makeup.

Uncle Jeff used to be a very normal guy. Regular 9 to 5 job at the gas station, Nascar loving, pickup truck driving, ‘coon huntin’ good ol’ boy from Missouri. He married Gertie after knowing her for all of about five minutes, so maybe he wasn’t really all that normal, after all.

Uncle Jeff likes to watch cooking shows, but again, the screen licker in him comes out, and we see dried saliva puddled on the floor a lot. He also likes yelling at the people he sees on the different programs he watches. Just the other day, he had an in depth conversation with the Neelys about the merits of dry rub versus wet sauce barbeque. Since they Neelys were on t.v., this was a decidedly one way conversation, but I don’t think that mattered much to him.

Even with his apparent insanity growing unchecked, we still love Uncle Jeff, if for nothing else than the wonderful stories he provides us with, for family reunions.

Rock on, Uncle Jeff, rock on!

Perhaps the most normal of all our friends, Killer Julie is the “Don’s” main squeeze. A blond bombshell, she’s the brains behind his operation. Never one to stay silent, either at court appearances, or at family functions, she’s the voice of reason when the “Don” goes a little nuts.

Growing up on the south side of Chicago, she was sheltered from the underworld dealings of the “Don”, and his cronies. That is, until that fateful day that he drove down her street, and saw her standing on her front porch.

At first, she was unsure of how she would fit into his mysterious, shadowy world. But, after her first “hit”, she knew she found her calling. Controlling the food suppliers and produce marketeers, she can get the top quality supplies and food the “Don” needs to keep his empire on the upswing.

At home in the kitchen, she’s equally adept at baking and cooking, but she’s not afraid to wield a shotgun, if the situation arises.  She’s a little bit Martha Stewart, a little bit Giada DeLaurentiis, and a whole lot of tough, “Italian by environment”. We love Killer Julie.

Daphne is “the dog” we refer to many times in our writing. She is a wonderfully happy, 85 lb. Rottweiler- the greatest dog ever. She has to be to eat all of the weird, sometimes awful things we concoct.

She came into our lives at a puppy store. After holding and playing with all the puppies my wife would let me, I finally came to the cage with this little black and tan furball, curled up sound asleep. Never one to let sleeping dogs lie, I had to take her out to play. As I picked her up, holding her nose to nose with me, this warm, wet tongue came out, and licked my face. I fell in love.

She became my constant shadow. If I got up, she got up. If I went outside, so did she. But as she got bigger, it became evident that the cute little puppy was going to get MUCH bigger. However, she still felt she was a lap dog, and so began a never ending bout with getting my manhood stepped on by this moose of a dog.

As she got bigger, she discovered that if she stood on her hind legs, she could reach the countertop easily. And so began the counter surfing, which led to the mysterious disappearance of at least two homemade, but uncooked, pizzas. We also mysteriously lost a pecan pie, a raw chicken breast, a double cheeseburger, countless fries,  an apple, bacon grease-soaked paper towels, and for some odd reason, a lot of pairs of my socks.

As she’s gotten older, she’s calmed down a lot. I can still see that hang- dog expression on her face when she hears the fridge open. You dog owners know that look- the “Hey, I know that sound. That sound means people food. Yay!!” She’s still my taste tester, food ally, confidant, and most importantly, friend.

A denizen of the criminal underworld, the “Don” lurks in all of the shady dive bars and greasy spoons in Chicago. The epitome of Sicilian “bad boy”, he’s just as at home behind the stove as he is breaking knees in an alley.

The “Don” got started as a busboy at his uncle Vito’s steakhouse. After “making his bones”, he worked his way up to becoming a “made” man by systematically eliminating all the mom and pop neighborhood restaurants in the Taylor street area of Chicago.

He then discovered that he too, loved cooking, and decided to learn the fine art of culinary mastery. With his street tough upbringing, he was a natural with a knife, as “No Nose Vinny” will tell you.

He finally met the love of his life one day while driving his drop- top Caddy through the south side. He saw this gorgeous blond standing on her front porch. He slowed the Caddy down, waved her over, and thus began the kind of  love affair that Frank and Dino sang so beautifully about.

Since that wonderful day, the “Don” and his lady cook, dine and drink wine like they’re Al Capone. You can usually find them standing in their kitchen, singing Italian ballads and peeling garlic. Every once in a while, though, the old school tough guy comes out, and he starts slicing tomatoes with a switchblade, much to “Killer Julie’s” dismay.

The “Don” is a frequent contributor to this blog, and we thank him very much. You grace us with your knowledge.

Food Safety

So you wanna learn how to cook, huh? Well, the number one, most important rule is this: Wash your hands! Unless you enjoy having what you ate come back out in Technicolor from both ends simultaneously, your hands must be clean. Food borne illnesses can be prevented in our childrens’ lifetimes. Won’t you please help our children?

Some Basics:

1) Wash your hands! No one wants your booger picking, crotch scratching, grubby paws touching their food.

2) Don’t use the same knife to cut raw meat, and then something else. Beef, pork, seafood and especially poultry, carry a nasty little bug called Salmonella. If you must use the same knife, wash it thoroughly after cutting your meat. This prevents cross-contamination.

3) Use a produce soap for your fruits and veggies. It is readily available supermarkets, and kills off lots of bad gunk. Pesticides, herbicides, waxes, and bacteria can be found on virtually every piece of produce. Even if you decide to buy organic, it’s still a good idea to wash your produce.

4) Don’t use the same cutting board for cutting meats and veggies. Buy yourself two: one for only veggies, and the other only for meat. Bacteria has a way of getting into the pores and fibers of wooden cutting boards, so try to buy hard plastic ones, instead.

5) Buy yourself a good meat thermometer. It doesn’t matter if it’s digital or not- just use it! A good rule of thumb is 180 degrees internal temperature for most meat, but as always, use good common sense.

6) Wash your friggin hands, already!

7) Do not thaw frozen meat on the counter top. Always thaw frozen meat in the fridge. Again, we want to prevent nasty germs from invading our food!

There is no 3 second rule, 5 second rule, or any other allotment of time rule. If it falls on the floor, stick it on the end of a hook, and go fishing.

9) Try not to smoke while you’re preparing food. Nothing says, “I’m a thoughtless tool who doesn’t care about what you ingest” more than finding ash, or worse yet, a butt in a meal. And yes, it does happen- more than what you may want to think about.

10) Have fun with it. Cooking is fun, but cooking with love and passion becomes so much more rewarding. Remember, life is short- eat well, often.

P.S. WASH YOUR HANDS!!!

Two nights ago I went out to dinner with a friend in Chicago. As the server’s helper set my food down he said “pork chop”.
“Did you just call me Pork Chop?” I said. The whole table busted out laughing. But for real, when I looked at him, he was quite handsome. I guess it would have been different if he had said “pork chop”  and I hadn’t ordered  a pork chop. I’ll never know.

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Sugar Grove IL

This is what I know:

My head:

My teeth:

In my body I feel:

Vision problems:

I have been to the doctor on many occasions for these problems. I have recently stopped eating corn and am feeling a heck of a lot better. Think of this. What would happen in this country if there was uncovered many cases of people with a corn allergy. Start looking at the labels on everything in your refrigerator and pantry. You’ll be amazed. Corn is in everything.

So, with this little rant out of the way, if you start to see some crazy ideas for No-Bread sandwiches, now you’ll know why. (Not only do they put corn in most bread products, but I’m allergic to wheat, too.)