How to Shop with a Non-Shopper

Mr. Outlaw and I have been very busy finishing up the semester and making Salvadore's Savory Sausage to raise money for our outlaw daughter to visit Europe as a Student Ambassador. As a result, I have been neglecting you, my dear reader. While I could give you a nice Christmas card how-to, or suggest an idea for a homemade candle or some such, I choose instead to provide some advice on how to survive the holiday season: shopping with a non-shopper.

Some of you may be wondering, "What, exactly, is a non-shopper?" A non- shopper is anyone who hates to shop, usually a boyfriend or husband, but sometimes a lesbian friend fits this category. I really think these people hate to shop because they only shop when it is crazy-busy at the malls: last minute at Christmas, Mother's day, or Valentine's day.  The poor dears only experience with shopping has involved parking-lot scrimmages and packed stores. You really can't blame them for wanting to avoid that, can you?

If you have a non-shopper in your circle, try these tips:


1. Only go to malls that have full service restaurants that have bars. This may mean that you have to avoid discount shopping centers. You can have a deal or you can have a nice day with your non-shopper, but you can't have both.
2. Valet Park. You will avoid all of that parking lot drama. The parking attendants hardly ever call people names for taking parking spots.
3. Before shopping, go to one of those full service restaurants and have appetizers and cocktails. You don't want to shop hungry or thirsty, do you?
4. Sit at the bar. You know, like you did before you had kids. Why? Remember what it was like before you had kids. My point exactly.
5. Only shop at stores that have places for your non-shopper to sit and watch tv while you try things on. They hate it when they have to lurk about leaning on racks of clothes with nothing to look at.
6. Pick stores with attractive, sassy salesgirls who will wait on your shopper hand and foot while giving them a good natured  hard time.
7. If you are shopping for your non-shopper, you might consider pre-shopping. Go on a little  reconnaissance mission. Find the items your non-shopper might like and set them aside. If you make your non-shopper follow you around while you look at every. single. item. on. every. single. rack., your non-shopper will lose interest and wander off in search of a chair, or a tv, or a cocktail, or all three.
8. When finished shopping, reward your non-shopper with more food and drinks. By then, he or she will have had such an awesome time shopping with you that they won't roll their eyes and claim to have a bowel problem when you mention shopping.

Have a wonderful Holiday Season,
XO Outlaw Homemaker

Spooky Halloween Cards

The Outlaw family has been hard at work stuffing and selling sausage to raise funds for our outlaw progeny Europe as a student ambassador. We have been surprisingly successful at this endeavor, so much so that our friends have begun to suggest we start a business. Most people love our sausage, but not everyone. So, I came up with this alternative fund- raiser: Handmade Halloween Greeting Cards.

These are pretty easy to make. Here's what you need:

Pre-cut and folded cards and envelopes

Plain orange scrapbook stock

Rustic looking scrapbook paper (gray and black tones look the best)

Ink pad

Stamps (one says Happy Halloween, the other is a pumpkin)

colored pencils

cellophane bags

raffia

Halloween ribbon

1. Rip the orange stock into appropriate sized rectangles.

2. Center and Stamp "Happy Halloween" on the orange paper

3. Drag the ripped edges across the ink pad to make it look rustic, stained, somehow "spooky."

4. Attach the orange rectangles to the rustic papers using gluestick and trim the rustic paper so that it makes a 1/8" frame.

5. Center the whole thing on your card-stock and glue.

6. To finish Stamp a pumpkin on the inside corner of the card and on the envelope flap and color using colored pencils.

7. If you are going to sell the cards, put them in the cellophane bags and tie with the raffia and the ribbon.

Italian Sausage. How To and Then Some.

The outlaw family has been hard at work raising funds to send our outlaw offspring to Europe as a Student Ambassador. We are excited and proud that our daughter will be traveling to Europe to do such things as meet with a member of Parliament in London, visit the Louvre in Paris, and Zip Line in the Alps. We are also scared to death.

 Sheryl Sanburg explores the idea of what we would do if we weren't afraid in her book, Lean In, and on her website. As the mother of a daughter, I find it so important to inspire and teach my daughter to pursue her dreams even if doing so scares her to death; even if it is difficult; even if, at times, it makes her cry. I am sure that her experience as a Student Ambassador will do all of these things, but it will also teach her to explore, learn, as questions, to reach out and to lean in. So, I will lean in, too.

In the effort to make this dream happen, our little family is focused on fundraising. We brainstormed many ideas, but the one that seems most promising and true to our family culture is selling sausage.
Thus, Savory Salvadore Sausage was born.

Many of you wonder what goes into making sausage at home. It is really quite simple. I won't give you the exact recipe, that would be sacrilege, but I would tell you how to do it. Kinda like I did with the sauce.

Italian Sausage

Materials:
First you will need a big, giant bowl, one that won't fit in an ordinary cupboard. You will also need a meat grinder and sausage stuffer. Kitchen-aide makes attachments that do this. We used to have an electric grinder/stuffer made by Braun, but it disappeared. Nona says she doesn't like the grind from the kitchen aide, so we use the 60 year old grinder that she gave us.

 

You might also want to have a kitchen scale if you plan on making a lot and freezing it in small batches.

 

 

Ingredients:

Pork Shoulder

Parsley

Zinfandel (We use old vine. Nona uses White Zinfandel. no bueno.)

Annise seeds, toasted and crushed (We toast them in the toaster-oven and crush with a mortar and pestal)

Nutmeg, toasted and ground

Sausage casing. (we use fresh, not dried. You can get these at Italian or German specialty markets)

Salt

Fresh ground black pepper

 

Begin by cutting your pork shoulder in to 2 inch cubes and chill.

Then grind up the cubes.You can ask the butcher to do this for you, an idea unheard of in our home.   I am unsure why. Probably the same reason we don't hire anyone to do our home improvement projects. Salvadore Pride, or something. Once you have your meat ground put it back in the fridge. Now is a good time to do the spices. If you have a two man operation, one person can grind the meat while the other prepares the spices. Insert tasteless "grinding" joke here.

 

To toast your spices make separate foil trays and toast them in the toaster oven until you are salivating from their aroma. Then, put them in the mortar and pestle and grind them up. Don't mix them yet. When I do this, I like to pretend I am an apothecary or a witch creating a magic dust. This is not required.

 

Add your anise seeds to your wine and put in the fridge. Usually we take a break then, to let the anise soak and have some wine ourselves.

 

You will need to pick the leaves from the parsley. Nona says, "NO STEMS!" We don't wanna hear it so, no stems. This is tedious. We make our kid do it. Once the parsley is all picked, coarsely chop it.

 

 Mix it all together in your giant bowl. Don't forget salt and pepper.

 

Now it is time to taste it. Fry up a hunk and decide  if it needs anything. If it is good, then it is time to start stuffing!

 

Set up your grinder so that it stuffs the sausage and load the casing onto the cone. It is just like putting on a condom. Yes, I just said that. There really is no better way to describe how to do this.

Load your sausage mixture into the grinder. One person should crank while the other manages the sausage. The sausage manager begins by tying of the casing to start the link. Then the cranker cranks. When the sausage is the right length the manager yells, "Stop!" The cranker should then stop, but probably won't. The manager should twist the sausage to tie off the link. Repeat the process. When the next link is done, the manager should twist it the opposite way. When the links are done, tie them off.

 

To prepare your sausage for dinner, you can grill 'em, sautee 'em , put 'em in your sauce. You can even make Pasta Fagioli with it like Kathy Diver!

 

 

So This Hot Young Surfer Dude Was Saying. . .

Avalon and the Super Rare, Super Exciting Eaton

My friend Brian lent my daughter not one, but two surfboards. So being the generous and selfless mom that I am, I drove my daughter and her friend 40 miles to Bolsa Chica State Beach to give the boards an inaugural run. In case you are not understanding the depth of my generosity and selflessness, you should know that it was over 40 miles on one of the most congested freeways in California and the only vehicle that we own capable of transporting surfboards has no functioning air conditioning. Yep, I am one awesome mom! Someone should give me an award.

Skip forward to 3 o'clock and I am loading all of our crap back into the truck. The long board is leaning against the shell and I am trying to figure out the easiest way to get the sock (Yes, surfboards have socks. No feet, but socks. Go figure) on the surfboard when I hear:

Surfer Dude: Dude! is that an Eaton Concave blah, blah, blah!

Me (in my head): Is that guy talking to me? What is he talking about?

Hot Young Surfer Dude: I thought I was the only one riding one of those around here.          
                                        Blah, Blah, Blah. . .

Me (in my head. confused look on my face): No, really, what IS he talking about?

I turn around and really look at the guy. He is still talking about . . . Oh, the surfboard!

Hot Young Surfer Dude: . . . really rare. Good  to see!

He stops talking and looks at me.

Me: (in my head) I should respond. What do I say?

Me: (out loud) Well, I guess you're not alone anymore.

Hot Young Surfer Dude: Cool, see you around!

Well, shut my mouth! What just happened? Me, at a loss for words. I tell you, I can count on one hand the number of times that has happened.

I finished with the sock business and headed back out onto the sand to get the girls. Hmm, I thought, that guy assumed I was the one riding that board. Maybe the idea of me surfing isn't so ridiculous after all?

Just Peachy Pocket Pies

The problem with organic and homegrown fruits is the lack of preservatives.

Wait! What!

Don't panic, what I'm getting at here is that organic and homegrown fruits don't last as long on the shelf as the ones we buy at the store that haven't been irradiated, sprayed, and otherwise forced into a state of suspended animation. The job of a fruit is to deliver its seed to reproduce the plant. In order to do that it must decay. It's part of the plants life cycle. Who wants to mess with that?

So now you have all of this fruit that is going bad faster than you can say muskmelon. The problem is what to do with it. You can can it, freeze it, dehydrate it, or you can do what you usually do: leave it in the refrigerator till it is completely rotten and then throw it away. What fun is all that? Why not make Pocket Pies. They could fit in your pocket, but I wouldn't recommend keeping them there.

Peach Pocket Pies

Here's how you do it:

preheat oven to 425

 Ingredients:

5 cups of  fresh peaches

1/2 cup flour

1/2 cup sugar

1/4 cup butter

pinch of cinnamon

pinch of salt

pie crust or pastry dough

1. Peel and dice peaches into 1/4 in. size pieces. I know this is a pain in the ass, but the skin is furry and no fun to eat (I bet Dilley will have something to say about eating furry things) and you need little pieces in a pocket pie. So, just suck it up and staarrrttt peeling.

 

2. In a separate bowl, mix all of the dry ingredients. You can add more sugar if you like, but homegrown peaches are pretty damn sweet already.

 

3. Add the butter. Using a fork, cut in the butter. Basically, this means that you mash the butter and dry ingredients together until it looks like the crumbs on one of those gross crumb cakes made by Hostess. It will start out looking like this:

Eventually, all of the butter is mixed in and it looks like small crumbles.





4. Toss the crumbles in with the peaches. I will look kind of lumpy and gooey wet.

 

5. Roll out your pie crust and use your pocket pie mold to cut the crust into the desired shape. I used a heart shaped pie mold from Williams Sonoma, but you can use any round thing as a guide. If you use a round crust, your pie will be a half circle. And, as you remember from those very useful math classes you took, the width of your pie will be half of the diameter of your circle.

 

6. Place a spoonful of your filling in the center of the  crust. Be careful not to put too much. If you do, you will not be able to seal your pocket pie and all of its yummy-ness will ooze out all over your baking sheet. Here is what my pies looked like:

 





 





 7. Seal in the edges with an eggwash (whip an egg and about a tablespoon of water) to seal. You can brush the top of the pie with the wash and sprinkle with decorative sugar if you like.

 

8. Put on a greased baking sheep or line your sheet with parchment paper like I do.  Bake for about 15 minutes until the pie is golden  and the filling is bubbly.

 

Evidence That I Am A Hillbilly

The other night I was watching a "Sharkweek" show where a bunch of cajuns were trying to catch some mythically huge shark. I said to my family, "This show is offensive to fat people and hill billies." My daughter replies, "You are not THAT much of a hillbilly." My husband has to add "You only have ONE toilet in the backyard."

I do have a toilet in my backyard. I am trying to motivate my husband to upcycle it into an automatic dog waterer. I think this idea is hilarious. The reality is that much of my adult life I have been trying to avoid my father's hillbilly tendencies. I say upcycling but it is really just finding new uses for "good junk" like my father did.

Here is the real evidence that under the salon hairstyles and designer clothes, I am a hillbilly.
Exhibit A:

Yes, that is duck- tape holding the ice maker for my fancy triple door stainless steel refrigerator.

The Secret in the Sauce

I may be risking my life sharing this information with you. You know how Italians are. No really. Here is how they are:
You: What is the recipe for your sauce?
The Italian: Recipe? Then they tell you a story about Vovi Jocamo (how is it not Tony???)
You: What do you put?
The Italian: Oh you know. . . Then they tell you a story about how Aunt Marie doesn't do it right.
You: Do you use oregano?
The Italian: Marie? She uses store bought.
And so it goes.

Well. . . here is last night's sauce. Mind you, Husband had a minor melt down and couldn't go to open house because it would interfere with getting his sauce on.(Not that kind of sauce)

First chop up some onion. One, maybe? I don't know.
Then chop up some eggplant (my friend Dilly says that eggplant is silky like pussy, but that is a whole other story).

Yep, that's from my front yard garden.

Molto Bene, no?

Add some olive oil and a jar of tomatoes. If you don't have homegrown, use canned Marzanos.

Toss in some pesto:

Pesto is just fresh basil, garlic, olive oil, pine nuts and salt processed in

blender or food processor. When you store it,  float some 

Olive Oil on top.

Season with what you like: oregano, hot peppers, sea salt, more garlic.

Blend with a stick blender.

Add meat. If you are my mother in law, you need at least a half of a pig, half of a cow, and most of a lamb. We used sausage and meatballs, but it is good with no meat. 

That's it. Now let me tell you about Vovi Paulie.

Welcome Outlaws!

We all have a bit of outlaw in us: that hidden rebel, like the skinny woman inside that fat woman, dying to get out. Join me as I observe life from my backyard, life as the momma of a middleschooler and wife of a grumpy man, chicken keeper, garden tender, and pot watcher. No matter the drama, there's a laugh in it for all of us.