Tag: compound

Happy birthday, Rhonda!

I decided that yesterday would be a good day to beg for Rhonda and Lindsey time. I bribed them with promises of a little early birthday somethin’ for Rhonda. I knew Lindsey was still on TV strike, so I invited them to The Compound post-Survivor, and the invitation was accepted.

Mid-afternoon, I started dinner, including putting a giant Tollhouse cookie in the oven to bake. Then Tim and I promptly began an impromptu bitch work session, and I forgot the cookie. When I remembered it, the edges seemed a little crisp, but I decided to just slather frosting on that part and encourage the Brides to cut from the middle.

Later, Lynne arrived, and she being the Queen of All Things Baked, I asked if she thought the cookie would be okay. She gave me The Look, whereupon I took a roll of dough out of the freezer to thaw. Then I sat down to steal cashew nuts from Lynne and that’s when I saw it: the chocolate cake Lynne had brought with her for dessert. HELLO! Birthday cake! Dough back in freezer. Lynne used softer pieces from the overbaked cookie for some cake decorations.

Unfortunately, after Survivor and dinner (roast beef, rice, fresh green beans, salad, and rolls, if you wanted to know), Lynne decided her upper respiratory infection had gotten the best of her so she went home before The Brides arrived.

Which they did. Much conversation and cake ensued. I hope you are feeling better, Lynne, and thank you for making sure the following smile happened:

Hot woman in red.

Two hot women!

Can you eat all that? I don’t think you can eat all that. Want me to help you eat that?

If ever a camera was needed, it was Sunday night in the two Compound kitchens.

When we started the dogs on raw food, we bought three 10-pound tubes of ground chicken and vegetables from a local dealer. We’re getting to the end of that, and her shop isn’t open again until Thursday. So it seemed like a good time to make our own raw food.

Tim and I went together (Tom decided that sleep was more important–so selfish! It was only midnight.) to the grocery store. We were hoping to find really gross stuff like beef tongue and chicken gizzards and livers and such. Alas, there must have been a HUGE run on those items Sunday at Disco Kroger. So we selected two packages of turkey necks (you’re already wishing YOU ate raw food, aren’t you?), some veal, some short ribs, and ox tail, all at excellent prices.

From the fresh produce section, we decided on parsley and brussels sprouts. (Brussels sprouts may give them gas, but a Rex fart can be a hilarious thing, so what the hell.) I already had a big bag of carrots to add to that mix.

When we got home, Tim didn’t know I was going to start the food mixing and dividing immediately, so he went to his apartment. (He was probably hoping for more Adventures with Palmetto Bugs, but that’s his story to tell.) I intended to chop the vegetables, but then I read on someone’s site that because dogs have short small intestines, they can’t really get the full nutritional value of vegetables unless they’re juiced. The blender lives at Tim’s, so I went and got it. Unfortunately, the blender wasn’t really working out as a juicer. I added a little water. Tim suggested that next time, we buy some vegetable juice to use in place of water. Good suggestion. At one point, nothing was happening so I pushed the vegetables down a little with a rubber spatula. The spatula hit the blade–no harm done. Except for the stream of green liquid that sprayed my cabinets and counters. Margot and Guinness watched all this with great anticipation. I’m not sure if they were hoping for an exorcism or a juice fountain.

After I had a big bowl of juiced vegetables, I decided to cut up the turkey necks. Um, I’m not a butcher. I don’t have great knives. I don’t have a cleaver. I WILL have a cleaver before we do this again. At this point, Tim came in and saw me struggling with the turkey necks. He took over with his strong manly hands while I sliced up veal and ribs.

Then it was time to divide it, but it wasn’t as simple as with the ground stuff we’d gotten from Bones2Go. That’s when I remembered that I had a food scale. I dug around in a cabinet until I found it. I also found–A JUICER! Where the hell did that come from? I never juiced anything in my life. I have a vague recollection of asking for a juicer for Christmas one year, and someone in Tom’s family must have provided. YAY! Unfortunately, there was not a surprise meat cleaver anywhere.

Tim said it smelled like a slaughterhouse in my kitchen and that he felt like he was in a scene from Sweeney Todd. The dogs were pacing at our feet, but they got nothing.

Later, when everything was divided into portions and put into the freezer, there was still mushy vegetable juice. I took it to Tim’s and put it in his unused ice trays to freeze. A vegecube is about the right amount to add to their meat portion.

I offered the veggie bowl to Rex to lick out. He was like, “Are you shittin’ me? Number one, Tim never lets me do this. Number two, while in your kitchen, did I not smell beef? Veal? Turkey neck? OX TAIL? Give me the good stuff, betch.”

He finally licked some vegetable mush off of my fingers to humor me.