Thanksgiving Prime Rib - results

Well, when I tried putting the rack of ribs into the roasting pan, it wouldn't fit. Ooops! Too big.

I then had to craft a foil drip pan underneath the rib rack and then put another tray underneath my makeshift foil tray. And still, I'll have oil to clean up tomorrow.

I stuck in the thermostat at the 3 hour mark. And sure enough, the needle did not budge.

However, at the 4 hour mark, the needle was slightly above 185F (target temp) and I pulled the ribs, put a foil tent on it and let it sit for 30 minutes.

Then I carved it. The good thing about buying a rack, is that the whole rack provides different levels of "doneness". i.e. there is a short side, which is cooked more throughly. And this is my end, which is more my liking.

Me, Wifey, Cousin-in-law, Aunt-in-law: in the kitchen cooking and making side dishes.

Brother-in-law and Sister-in-law: took the kids for a long walk around the neighborhood and kept them busy for over an hour.

MIL: sat at the dinner table and did crosswords for almost 3 hours. Not offering to help.

2 more days.

Thanksgiving Prime Rib

I guess this is becoming a holiday tradition here? Wifey and her brother are not big turkey fans. I myself find it tedious to spend all that time and effort on poultry. So last year and this year, I'm making prime rib. I've done a prime rib before, but I didn't document last year's effort for Thanksgiving, so these are pics of this year.

As you may or may not know, most of the "packed meats" come from a a handful of conglomerations. Wifey and her brothers all worked at their local town's meat packing plant, where their dad was an executive. We're talking starting wages of over $12.00/hr in the mid-to-late-70's folks! It's gross work, but the money, whew!

Anyway, I digress.

The point of that ramble was that most of the steaks and cuts of meat at the various high-end and "regular" grocery stores come from the same place. I remember as a child in the 70's seeing butchers at grocery store still "butcher" (seeing whole carcasses in the back cold room). Those days are gone (and maybe for the better?) my friends.

Essentially, this is what arrives at your local store:
They had a sale a few weeks ago, so I bought a rack still in its cryo-pack. And then I bought another "chunk" to do the practice run.

After opening up the pack that had been defrosting all day, I washed it off and dried it.

[I went and re-read my old post and realized I skimmed my printed recipe and did not trim off the fat. Oh well, fat is good sometimes. ]
One of my rules is that when making any time of rub or seasoning for meat, double the amount that is suggested in the recipe. It is a real pain to run out of rub halfway through the application. Also, this allows for a liberal application of spices. My thought has always been, how does the core of the meat ever get the spices? People say that it works its way through...but I don't know. Basic chemistry tells me it should only go maybe half an inch deep.

Anyhoo, you know my theory in life: Why fix one coating of rub when you can fix five coatings?!

Also, I'm using the little cups because I tend to lose track of how many portions I've scooped out thus far.

Put it into my old, retired coffee grinder.

After grinding.
Add just a bit of salt.
Mix up.
Apply to the meat. I like to rub olive oil on most of my meats that I apply rubs or spices to. It helps hold the spice to the meat and stay on during hight temps.
And then wrap it up and put it in the fridge overnight.

The important thing is to pull out the meat the next day (which I did at 6:00 am this morning) to let it rise to room temperature. You want to be cooking the meat while it is in the oven, not wasting oven time warming it up.

The recipe (ha!) calls for it to be at 300 degrees for 2 hours. Ha! My practice effort 3 weeks ago showed it took 3 hours for 6 lbs. I'm counting on 3.5 hours with 30 minutes of rest under an aluminum tent before serving.

Updated pictures later.

Lunchtime BBQ

Jalapeño sausage and pork ribs. Don't be hatin' M3, I was thinkin' of
y'all while I was chowing down.

One of my favs

Wonton soup done the right way

Mainstreaming

Wifey told me she had a story to tell me after I got home. So when the kids weren't listening too closely, I asked her what was up.

Wifey had attended a Thanksgiving lunch at the Girl's school. One of the Moms she's friends with said that her girl had come crying to her at home the previous night because she was upset at what she heard in class. The back story is that in one of the 1st grade classes this year, there is a new boy. He is Chinese, recently adopted, and does not speak any English. He was trying to get a point across, got frustrated and may have done some pushing or throwing of things because he was frustrated (the Boy sometimes still does this, but it's reducing because of the improvements with speech therapy).

The Boy was separated by being placed in another 1st grade class for the rest of the day. The teacher talked to the kids in his original class and was trying to educate them on what to do when kids get frustrated with you in the future.

Now this is where it might be a little hazy. You have to remember this is an upset 6 year old recounting to her Mom what she thinks she heard.

She thinks she heard the teacher say, "Now next time [Chinese boy] gets frustrated and acts up, we shouldn't get upset, we should laugh at him."

Hmmmm.

I was wondering, would a teacher at this very politically correct, Blue Ribbon school say that?

Or did she say, "Now next time [Chinese boy] gets frustrated and acts up, we shouldn't get upset, we should laugh at the situation." ?

It's hard to say because, of course, I'm hearing it 4th hand.

And then Wifey said, "I can't believe that they (parents) just put a kid who doesn't speak any English into a first grade class like that! That's gotta be so frustrating for him!"

Hmmm.

I said, "Well, ummmm, I came over when I was 4 years old without knowing any English and I started in Kindergarten. I turned out okay."

She replied, "That's different. Those were the old days."

I'm not sure if I've blogged about this in the past, but one of her brothers is deaf. He's the 50+ year old man-child who still asks Mommy for money. When I was dating Wifey, she described him as one who always has his hand out for a handout. She said that when he was in 6th-8th grade, he went off to boarding school at their state's School for the Deaf. At the time we were dating, she told me, "And that really messed him up. They taught him that the world OWED him things; that he was disabled and deserved a leg up and help from the world." She said that when he came back, he was a different person.

But of course, as we know, philosophies and social worker trends keep changing. When he got to high school age, it suddenly became the thing to "mainstream" deaf kids. So, he came back to his family and town and started high school. He didn't do well, and dropped out when he was 16 and has been a "gentle bum" since then. Seriously, he always finds sympathetic girlfriends to leech from.

And so as we were talking about this Chinese Boy being mainstreamed I asked, "Well what are the parents supposed to do? Keep him at home until he learns enough English?" Wifey shrugged. She felt sorry for the kid, but she didn't know what his parents could have done different. We have lots of English-Spanish schools here in the South, but of course on English-Chinese schools.

And then, you're reading the blog of a 4 year old boy who was dumped into the deep end of the Great American Melting Pot, and I find no problem whatsoever if this boy's mainstreaming.

But just as trends change, last night when I asked Wifey about her brother and the deaf school, I asked her if she thought it was good or bad that he was mainstreamed. She said, "Oh no, he should have stayed at that school."

Me personally? I don't remember much of kindergarten and 1st grade. We say that kids are resilient, and that's the way this little guy is going to have to adjust - in the deep end.

But as I'm typing this up, I realize that Wifey didn't take into account the Boy, our son. When we got him, he was 27 months, walking, with all his teeth. We get home, she spends 1 month of bonding time with him, then it's off to daycare where he didn't know anyone and didn't speak English.

Somehow, Wifey doesn't view that as mainstreaming. Gonna have to point that out to her tonight.

[typed up with no proofreading - you gotta take what you can get folks]

In Case of Emergency, Break Glass

I'm going to relate a story below, but before I do that I want to make sure readers are not under the impression that I'm comparing myself to people who serve in the military. Those folks are heroes, I'm just a (sometimes) frustrated cog in the big Mega-lo-corp, who occasionally must endure a paper cut.

I've written about a friend of mine who joined the Mega-lo-corp after doing his 20 years in the Air Force. My friend is....ummm...how do I say this? Prone to hyperbole. He doesn't intentionally lie, it's just his way of recounting things tends towards the exaggerated.

I'm a history and a military history buff, so I was asking him questions about the Air Force. We were talking about combat and stuff like that he and brough up the Air Force Search and Rescue Reserve Wing*. Their mission is search and rescue of downed pilots and flight crew. I was thinking that they were like Coast Guard divers who leap out of helicopters and go towards people in need and help them into the hovering helicopter.

I told my friend, "So, these guys are kinda like medics right? They drop down that line and grab people to get pulled up right?"

He laughed and said, "No. They guys are mean little F@#%*&^! They go down with guns and knives and their job is to hump that guy over his shoulder and fix him up and and defend him until other help arrives. Those guys are usually in their 30's and 40's and are senior master sargents. But none of them are active duty. They are usually cops or paramedics or nurses or firemen. And then when war starts, they get called to active duty. And they're all exercise nuts. They are the guys who run marathons, triathalons, and ironman competitions. They're crazy."

When he said that, it made sense. These guys are essentially commando-paramedics. Their highly trained, but they can't be on standby all the time. Thus, they train, get qualified, and then stay dormant in the reserves until a conflict arises that will need them to (possibly) rescue downed flight crew.

Now back to the main subject of this post:

I've realized over the years that this is my strength and weakness at the Mega-lo-corp. I'm really, really good and being parachuted into a problem, where people have been struggling to achieve something and turning them around. The problem with this skill set is that the Mega-lo-corp actually employs competent (enough) people so that people or the people just above them can usually solve a small brush fire. I'm the guy who does quite well in raging forest fires. I can see two ridgelines over the current fire line and spot the best place to dig in and start fighting the fire.

It's taken me almost 20 years to come to this conclusion. In this time, I've run into 3 types of managers:

Mind-your-own-business (70%) - When I tell them that another group or department are really going down the wrong path and that I have a solution to what needs to be addressed so they can pull it out, the responses are usually.

• "Well, that's none of our concern really. Let's focus on what we are in charge of."
• "Hmmm, interesting. Okay, tell me where you are with YOUR work."
• "Ummm, let's not go there."

Wow, good observation. Too bad we can't help (20%) - When I describe the problem and the potential solution, they acknowledge that I have the vision. They also acknowledge that trying to help other groups, without their request for help, usually doesn't go over to well with the department that's in the hole.

• "Wow, good eye. Yup, it's too bad that politically, we can't say anything about that."
• "Well, I don't think we can officially offer any help. In this case, they have to fail on their own."
• "I can ask their management if they need help, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

Let's do it! (10%) - And this is where only a handful of managers (all women) have actually stopped to listen to my babbling. They then allow me the freedom to try to fix the problem. It has to be just the right manager who understands and "gets" you.

I knew I had the skill to handle complex teams and problems after I completed a couple of emergency on-site trips to customer sites. I would resolve the technical problem by getting the right people to look at the problem and then I was very good at keeping management informed on the technical issues (they call it dumbing it down) through my writing.

From my emergency visits, I started realizing that I was really, really good at firefighting. I was a much better person at putting out the fires than I was as a programmer. But....how many fires can you really fight?

My current job, I have, because I attended a meeting where the people who were presenting a spreadsheet of problems took 2 HOURS to cover 3 cell rows out of 58 cell rows. TWO HOURS for 3 cells! C'mon people!

I then made plans to make myself the leader of that group because it was a job opportunity - a BIG one that no one had realized yet.

About 8 years ago, I got a new manager. I had known about her for a few years, even lent her a dog crate for new pups, but not really worked for her. We had 1-on-1's every two weeks and she liked talking to me because a lot of her employees wouldn't talk about real stuff that was going on. I just shot the breeze with her. And then, at one point, she was doing this fake groaning about some impossible task she was handed. It had to do with trying to reduce a backlog of stuff we had.

So, I went ahead and started throwing out ideas on making the reduction of backlog paperwork a competition. There's nothing that gets people to work just a bit harder than competition. People have an innate need to compete against each other.

And then, I waited to see what her reaction would be. Would she scoff? Would she brush me off? Would she pat me on the head and then tell me not to bring it up again?

Instead, she said, "Sounds good. Do it! You come up with an official plan, and we'll run it by my boss. Let's do it!"

And as they say, it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship (she became my guardian angel manager).

That plan, led to a bigger job, which led to being offered a bigger job and then taking over a bigger job.

Woohoo!

By then, my first-tier manager had started moving up the ranks. 4 years later, she was a second-tier manager. And I was handed over to an "old hand" manager who, at one time was a second-tier manager, but now was a "lowly" first-tier manager. We got along okay, but she was handed this employee who was self-contained...doing a job for 2 years that was about to come to completion.

And then, she told me that I was expendable.

Anyway, I accepted a job (that sounded boring - but my guardian angel manager found for me) over email while I was in China adopting the Girl. The job was boring, I started a blog because it was so boring and I was stuck there for 2.5 years. I finally got out of my technical-Siberia because my guardian angel manager was now promoted to a third-tier manager.

So, after wasting 2 hours going over 3 spreadsheet cells, I popped by my guardian angel manager's office and laid out my analysis of how deep of a hole the team was in. And that, well...if someone were to turn that team around, they would have to do.....blah, blah, blah, blah, blah....

Two weeks later, I had an interview with the second-tier manager of that team....which turned out to be the manager who made me expendable 5 years ago. We had a great interview meeting. She and I were on the same page - she and I had come to the same conclusion of the weaknesses of the team and she saw a person who was already making plans on how to turn the ship around. And as we were close to the handshake that would make it an official offer and acceptance, of course you know I had to blurt this out:

Me: "So, I'm very, very excited
at this opportunity. I really do want the job. The only
thing...errr...the only thing is I'm going back to work reporting to the manager
who....errr....laid me off 5 years ago."

My (now) manager:
"Johnny, I DID NOT LAY YOU OFF! We had a budget action, and I told you we
needed to find you a new position within the company. You were NOT LAID
OFF. Quit tell people you were laid off!"

Anyway, I did turn the team around and we'll see what the appraisals say next Jan-Feb.

Anyhoo, the whole point of this post is that I suck in (project) peacetime. After this job is over, maybe Summer of 2010, then I have no fire to fight. I then drift to some boring regular job that requires you to work 38.5 hours per week - because there can't (and shouldn't) be a fire at the Mega-lo-corp all the time. The goal is to reduce forest fires.

And that's where I get in trouble. When I go back to ho-hum boring projects, I get bored. I sometimes mouth off or send off "unfortunate" emails because I'm just bored out of my mind (of course writing incendary blog postings sometimes substitutes for stupid emails at work).

Some people might say, "Well heck, rest up between forest fires. You've earned it!" The only problem is my constant worry of a future "budget action". If you are doing a boring, low level job....then they can always cut you and make the sucker in the next office take on additional work load (yours before you got canned!).

If I could only be put into a glass case (and still get paid) that said, "In Case of Emergency, Break Glass (and a can of Johnny Whoop-Ass) Will Appear"

Taiwanese Food

Our town has lousy Chinese food. It has great Vietnamese and Thai food.

One of the two places I frequent advertises that they serve Taiwanese food. It's a real oddity as most people would not understand or could differentiate between the two (like me!) I mean, why take the time to come out and say, "I'm not exactly a Chinese restaurant!" in your advertising.

But, there are subtle differences. They do serve food that I can't find at any Chinese restaurant in town. And ironically, they serve the BEST spicy beef noodle soup (which according to my Commie-hatin' Mama is a Northern China specialty).

But here is something I have, every 10th visit or so, instead of the spicy beef noodle soup. Green Onion Pie.

It's sorta like a quesadilla with green onion in the middle. I lurves it. Wifey think's the STUPIDEST thing she's ever been offered to eat.
And then this:
I can't even remember the Taiwanese name for it. Had lots and lots and lots and lots of it growing up. So much so that I got tired of it.

It's some sort of plant leaf wrapped around a bundle of cooked rice, mushroom, pork or beef, and peanuts.

After you wrap it, you tie it in a special way that gives it the funky shape it comes in. And then you tie a bundle of these together and store them away. Sometimes they can be stored just out in the open for a few days before needing to be refrigerated.
But mostly they are thrown into the freezer and then they are steam heated to warm up and serve.
I've actually had my parents or my grandma bring some up when visiting and had them in the freezer for over 2 years. Yup, there's just a bit of freezer burn, but it's good 2 years later.
And the funny thing was I didn't realize my little "Taiwanese" restaurant even offered these until I saw someone eating it the other day.

Don' be jealous my little Taiwanese brutha's and sista's......okay be jealous, cause that was good eatin!

Hollow - Ween

Another Halloween come and gone and I sigh in relief.

For the Girl, I sometimes thinks she gets more excited about Halloween itself than Christmas. There's something about going door-to-door and getting STUFF(!!) than sitting around the base of the tree unwrapping presents at Christmas. Besides, you can't eat socks, but you sure can eat the treats handed out by strangers!

For me, Halloween is very bittersweet. In fact, I dread it because it has unhappy memories in my mind.

Growing up, we lived in downtown Houston. It was a rough neighborhood, not the place you think about going Trick-or-Treating. So, my Mom made sure we had a good experience by loading us up and going to visit a friend of hers in the much, much nicer suburbs out in Pasadena.

I remember being an outsider...a kid sneaking into a "rich" neighborhood and getting candy I didn't deserve. That's why when Wifey (and others) make comments about, "Those people who get trucked into our neighborhood to trick-or-treat", it makes me wince.

I was poor. I was "those people".

I remember running around in my Underdog costume and sometimes going to a house twice and getting more candy. A very distinct memory I have was stopping under a very bright security light under a particular house and me and a friend stopped and admired all the candy we had in our bucket. It was cold (in the 50's) and I was shivering in my costume, but I was thinking, "It's all worth it for all this candy!"

And then, there was a tragedy.

• A child died after trick-or-treating.
• He had been poisoned by cyanide.
• He had been killed by his father in an insurance scam.
• His father had filled about an inch of the ends of giant Pixie sticks and given it to the boy, his sister, and a good friend's son.

He was given one of two nicknames: The Pixie Stick Killer or The Candyman*.

And after that, Halloween came to standstill in Houston.

Being Texas, of course, he was convicted in 1975 and executed in 1984.

But his actions are everlasting.

One of his defense attorneys, in one of his automatic-appeal trials, introduced his client as, "Ladies and Gentleman, my client is the man who killed Halloween."

And to me, he did for me.

So when Halloween comes around, I don't get excited. I don't get happy. I get nervous and my mind goes back to the lost innocence I have experienced. What happened, I can never get back.

I certainly don't tell my kids about it or try to explain it to Wifey (she just looks at me weird when I start explaining it - and in typical Wifey manner, she just waves it off and starts talking about her happy Halloween childhood).

Yeah, I had that once, too.

*Ronald Clark O’Bryan