What is Food Network Thinking These Days?

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Ahhh, a lovely Gallette I made for friends this summer.

Speaking of food, you guys ever watch the Food Network show, The Pioneer Woman, hosted by Ree Drummond?

At the gym, when I work out I watch Food Network, and for the past year, at 10:00 a.m., it has been the lovely Contessa, Ina Garten.  I love her show, full of interesting information about classics, entertaining, wine, cheese, spins on classics and European dining.

But now at that time slot, they've changed  it around so Ree's show comes on when Ina's used to.

Before I start ranting, I'm sure Ree is nice.  I'm sure her neighbors like her, and she's a good mother.

But that show sucks ass.

The other day, I kid you not, she made lasagna WITH COTTAGE CHEESE IN IT.  As in, hello, 1980's.

I'm as enraged as "Adam" was about cooking from Northern Exposure.

If that was not offensive enough, yesterday, her "recipe" for enchiladas, was 1 can green sauce poured over a corn tortilla, with cheese on top, nuked.

Are you kidding me?  This is a "recipe"?

Then yesterday, she made burritoes: ground beef and cumin, refried beans outta the can, can of green sauce on top.

Again, these are "recipes"?  WTF, I call it cooking you did when you first moved away from home, right up there with Ramen noodles, Hamburger Helper.

OK, I get the whole "country thang," going on.

But the show sucks.  All the talented home chefs out there who don't have their own FN show, and we get this?  Can't Food Network turn to say, You Tube and find some bright talent out there?  Recently, I've found some good Paleo-blogger-foodies whose recipes are wonderful.  Why can't they get a show?

Why can't I have a show?

Now, I'm morbidly curious each day, to see what slop Ree's going to throw together.

Maybe Friday she'll show us how to say, fry an egg, or better still, make a peanut-butter sandwich, with jelly.  I can't wait!

Camp Tales 2013, part IX: Scatalogical Humor, part II

Friday, Oct. 25th (don't know why it says July)
My new cabin tent I bought a while back.  Here's Bennie attempting to drop off a log--don't even think of it, Bennie-Boy!

Pretty slick, eh?  Nothing beats a good tent unless it's a good cabin.

Bottom line is that you must camp with only people whom you've known for many, many years, and rather intimately I might add.

Why?

Well, if you're sharing a one room primitive cabin or a cabin-tent, you become acutely aware of each others' toilet habits.  I'm afraid in close quarters like this, there's no room for modesty.

I've only camped with FOUR people my entire life.  My childhood friend, Lynne, Gaylord in Nebraska, Robby and Dooooders.  Quite frankly, they're the only people I'd trust to camp with, since they are not offended by my frequent toity-events and scatological humor.  Dooders has learned over the years that ignoring my butt-trumpeting only encourages more butt-trumpeting.  She's learned to smile and just sadly shake her head.

Bowel-movements, discussion of bowel-movements, jokes about strangers' bowel-movements, toilet paper comparisons, and appropriate-stall discussions are all fairly common place.

"Don't use the second stall over," I noted to Dooders in Ouray.  "Someone took a big dumper and didn't flush."  Doooders nodded appreciatively.

Oftentimes, you even go to the dumper together if it's multi-stall building and you have only one key to your cabin between the two of you.

And well, if sitting next to one of your oldest friends, listening to an exclamation of sharts, farts, butt trumpeting shocks you, then maybe you're best off camping with total strangers and doing the "walk of shame" to the lavatory sink without eye contact.

It's not like you can stick your head under the stall and exclaim, "My aren't you making a merry assortment of butt-trumpeting.  By the way, I'm outta toilet paper.  You wanna hand me some?"  So there are a few rules, but not many.

Early morning flatulence has always been a strong suit of mine.

"Pffffssssssssssssst!  Crackkkkkkkkkkk!  POP! POW!" from my lower bunk bed, thunderously shaking the windows of the small cabin.

"Well, good morning to you, too," Doooder noted dryly, her head buried in her sleeping bag.

Really, there are only 4 rules:

1. Always inform your fellow camper of a rotten stall.
2. Always share your Handi-wipes.
3. Always inform your fellow camper if a stall's outta toilet paper.
4. It's always best to keep small talk to a minimum while on the crapper, especially with strangers.  So keep the, "It's been pretty warm out lately, don't ya think?" or "I shouldn't have had that whole bag of candy corn last night," observations to yourself.

I'm lookin' out for us all!  Stay tuned.