GDIC, Say What?

As I see it in present day, I have a problem.  I love Ice Cream, I have GICED.  Never in my adult life have I ever refused a serving of ice cream.  I could be just finishing 6 or 7 tacos and still ask my daughter  ”do you want to go to Dairy Queen?”  Off we go and I polish off a medium blizzard without a problem.  I can only assume, like any adult with a problem, affliction or addiction, I can trace this back to my childhood and my parents.  Yup, I blame them.  They are responsible for my Genetic Ice Cream Eating Disorder.  I dare tell you why. 

My father, Hank also loves his ice cream.  It is now out; the Longstreth gene pool is responsible.  He would eat a bowl of ice cream on a regular basis.  I know what you are thinking, but hear me out, I wasn’t really that spoiled.  My dad would come up with some of the weirdest concoctions with ice cream that I ever saw.  Root beer floats with Pepsi.  I was 4 or 5 years old & I didn't really understand, but man were they good.  No root beer or Pepsi?  No problem, just use the Hi-C grape; there is always some of that in the fridge.  Vanilla scoops, with chocolate syrup topped with Spanish peanuts, aka The Tin Roof, a father and son personal favorite.  There is something to be said about the sweet and salty goodness with that ice cream sundae.  Although I was never allowed to stir my bowl of ice cream, somehow the very bottom of the bowl always was mixed to a smooth texture.  The local ice cream place was somewhere I dreamed about.  I fondly remember Hank introducing me to the wicked, gooey, warm goodness of hot fudge.  He introduced me to the Fudgesicle and the Drumstick.  Baskin Robbins was always a treat and I saved my fruity side of the palate for the BR Orange Sherbet in a cup.  My pet peeve; the pronunciation of the word SHER BET, for those of you who believe your ears and not your eyes there is only ONE R in the word SHER BET.  That’s enough of the English class.  My next memory was the chocolate malt.  I can drink a chocolate malt in about 45 seconds, therefore I now keep some malted milk in my pantry for the after dinner dessert malt.  My current addiction to this frozen confection has been perpetually fueled throughout my child hood.  My need for ice cream with toppings is beyond compare.  Oh, I forgot to mention we only had vanilla, thus the need for toppings or added flavors to choke it down.  Are you very confused yet?  Here’s the deal breaker.  Marie didn’t buy ice cream.  Frozen yogurt hadn’t been invented yet and we didn’t have an ice cream soft serve in the kitchen.  Nope, Marie proudly purchased ICE MILK!  That’s right, I said ICE MILK, it wasn’t even ice cream.  Now it all makes sense, the need for additional flavors and my addiction to the real thing.  I know every Cold Stone location in my area, Dairy Queens and local mom and pop frozen confections.  I love Ben and Jerry’s, Dreyers, fudgesicles, Klondike bars, drum sticks, chocolate, neopolitan, malt cups, and for my favorite combination Wendy’s fries dipped in the chocolate frosty, life could not get better than that.  I think the ice cream gene has been passed to my daughter.  She shares the same passion as I for this frozen delicacy.  There is one small difference, she knows when to stop.  Hopefully she will pass this genetic trait to her offspring.  If you happen to find ICE MILK in your local grocery, pick up a half gallon and bring it home proudly.  Don’t forget to get something to put on top because you won’t be able to eat it otherwise.

Odorous Pescado

 As an adult I have had the opportunity to eat some great food and now living in the Northwest the King Salmon is at the culinary apex.  This is the fish locals and visitors choose and think of when you mention Seattle.  I never had the opportunity to eat fresh fish as a child.  I did however have the opportunity to eat any fish I caught when camping with the family.  I caught mostly yellow belly cat fish and blue gill, not the most appetizing fish and never large enough to actually eat.  I’m not even sure my mom could cook fresh fish if given the opportunity. Let’s leave the cat fish fry to the Cajuns.  Although leery, on my first visit to the great Northwest I quickly jumped at the opportunity to order a fresh salmon dinner.  It took only one bite of fresh salmon to erase the bad memories of canned salmon patties served at my house for dinner.  Salmon patties made from canned salmon!  Imagine the smell!  Imagine the oily, nasty discolored meaty flesh clinging to the inside of the squatty round can, freshly opened with a can opener that has never been washed.  Now before you say, but your mom didn’t have access to fresh fish, I say you are correct.  But listen to what I’m saying, can salmon tastes nothing like fresh salmon.  Add that to the fact that Marie could mess up box macaroni and then she pulls out the salmon patties.  C’mon man!  This could have been my greatest nightmare dinner.  Miles from the front door you had an olfactory sense of the death patties that waited lingering on the dinner plate.  The odor of cooking salmon patties would overcome every distinct smell of my memory.  Worse than liver and onions any day of the week.   The putrid stench of that single patty on my plate made me sweat like Mike Tyson taking the SAT.  I could barely choke it down, second only to canned peas, and never a condiment to mask the flavor or odor.  The salmon patty has taken over my memory right now and I cannot, for the life of me, recall any side dish that may have accompanied it.  Could it be possible that there is no side dish capable of complementing the salmon patty?  If that is so, then why serve these?  Canned salmon should be served to cats with no sense of smell, that live outside in remote parts of the world, or at least another area code.  Marie’s salmon patties would quite possibly be a strong deterrent for prisoners serving short sentences.  The fear of the salmon patty meal would send shivers to any hardened criminal.  Do yourself a favor, if you choose fish for your next meal and you even think about salmon patties, think again, cat food should not be pattyized for human consumption.  You will be better served to heat up the Gorton’s Fish Sticks.

A note from the Easter dinner Sloppy Joes!  They were delicious.  I found that the soy was overpowering, cut it out or back depending on your taste.  Here’s the recipe if you wish to partake:

In a large skillet add 1TBL Olive oil, over medium high heat.  Add 1.5# of ground turkey and season with 1TBL of poultry seasoning, salt and pepper.  Cook until browned and then stir in 1 small red pepper chopped, 1 small onion chopped and 2 cloves of garlic chopped and cook until the vegetables are tender.  In a bowl, stir together 1cup tomato sauce, ¼ cup maple syrup, 3TBL soy sauce, 2TBL cider vinegar, 2TBL brown sugar and 1TBL Dijon mustard.  Pour the sauce over the meat and vegetable mixture and simmer over med-low heat to combine flavors.  Serve on a bun with shredded cheese or favorite topping.