Potential Kitchen Disaster of the Day

August 30, 2010

HAPPY NATIONAL MARSHMALLOW TOASTING DAY, you sexy beasts! Personally, I don’t like store bought marshmallows. I think they taste concentrated despair. But I do like marshmallows toasted on a graham cracker with chocolate on it. So lets celebrate up in this bitch!

I found a recipe(via The Food Network) for homemade marshmallow. Because this is PKD, and what’s our motto? DAMN THE MAN! Make that shit yo’self! Let’s do this, bitches:


* 3 packages unflavored gelatin
* 1 cup ice cold water, divided
* 12 ounces granulated sugar, approximately 1 1/2 cups
* 1 cup light corn syrup
* 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
* 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
* 1/4 cup confectioners’ sugar
* 1/4 cup cornstarch
* Nonstick spray


Place the gelatin into the bowl of a stand mixer along with 1/2 cup of the water. Have the whisk attachment standing by.

In a small saucepan combine the remaining 1/2 cup water, granulated sugar, corn syrup and salt. Place over medium high heat, cover and allow to cook for 3 to 4 minutes. Uncover, clip a candy thermometer onto the side of the pan and continue to cook until the mixture reaches 240 degrees F, approximately 7 to 8 minutes. Once the mixture reaches this temperature, immediately remove from the heat.

Turn the mixer on low speed and, while running, slowly pour the sugar syrup down the side of the bowl into the gelatin mixture. Once you have added all of the syrup, increase the speed to high. Continue to whip until the mixture becomes very thick and is lukewarm, approximately 12 to 15 minutes. Add the vanilla during the last minute of whipping. While the mixture is whipping prepare the pans as follows.

Combine the confectioners’ sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl. Lightly spray a 13 by 9-inch metal baking pan with nonstick cooking spray. Add the sugar and cornstarch mixture and move around to completely coat the bottom and sides of the pan. Return the remaining mixture to the bowl for later use.

When ready, pour the mixture into the prepared pan, using a lightly oiled spatula for spreading evenly into the pan. Dust the top with enough of the remaining sugar and cornstarch mixture to lightly cover. Reserve the rest for later. Allow the marshmallows to sit uncovered for at least 4 hours and up to overnight.

Turn the marshmallows out onto a cutting board and cut into 1-inch squares using a pizza wheel dusted with the confectioners’ sugar mixture. Once cut, lightly dust all sides of each marshmallow with the remaining mixture, using additional if necessary. Store in an airtight container for up to 3 weeks.

I’m too lazy to cut and paste the miniature marshmallow version, so just click on this if you want little ones. You can flavor these as well, just add a few drops of strawberry or whatever extract(found in baking aisle of supermarket) at the same time as the vanilla.

I have to keep this post short and not-so-sweet(just like your man! OH SNAP!) because I have an old friend coming over. I haven’t seen him in ages and I should at least make sure my toilet is clean(relatively) before he gets here.



Dumbass of the Week: YOU DECIDE!

August 30, 2010

Yeah, I know. I’m just so friggin’ annoyed that this sorry excuse for a human has the balls to equate himself with MLK. It makes me fucking sick.

If any of you have a better pick for DotW, please write it in.

Potential Kitchen Disaster of the Day

August 29, 2010

A whole week and no PKDs?! What the hell is wrong with me? I must have been really busy(HAHAHAHA). Oh, well. None of that matters. Because today, I have decided to give you fantastic fuckers one of my most favorite recipes!

Bistec Empanizado or Breaded Steak is a Cuban dish that is sort of similar to chicken fried steak. Only better. Because it’s Cuban(like me). It is made using cube steak, which is top round or top sirloin that’s been tenderized by beating the shit out of it with a meat mallet(dirty!).

This is how you’ll see it in the supermarket. But please, feel free to beat your own meat should the mood strike you.

Also, traditional Cuban recipes call for galleta crumbs. Galleta crumbs are basically cracker crumbs. You can make your own by putting crackers in a zipper bag and crushing them with a rolling-pin. Try to get them as fine as you can.

Breaded Steak (Bistec Empanizado):

4 steaks (1/4 inch thick)
1/2 cup onion, chopped
1 tbsp fresh garlic, minced
1/4 cup sour orange juice
1/4 tsp salt
4 eggs, beaten well
1 cup finely ground crackers, salt to taste
1/2 onion, sliced into rings
Olive oil

1 – Place steaks in large bowl. Sprinkle steaks with chopped onion, garlic, orange juice and salt. Rub garlic into meat. Cover bowl and marinate for a few hours in the refrigerator.

2 – Remove steaks from bowl and brush off onion pieces. Dip each steak into the egg, making sure it’s fully coated. Dip the steak into the crackers, making sure that the ground crackers completely cover the steak. Fry the steaks in cooking oil on medium heat until golden brown and well done(make sure the oil is shimmering and hot before putting steaks in). Garnish with sliced onions and a wedge of lime.

If you wanted to use lime juice instead of sour orange juice, that would be delicious as well. Putting a little sofrito into the marinade probably wouldn’t hurt either. I strongly suggest trying to use cracker crumbs. I’ve used regular breadcrumbs and it was still very tasty, but the texture was different.

When pan frying anything you MUST wait for the oil to get HOT! If you put your food in before the oil is hot enough you are going to get an oily, gross tasting mess. Not only that, it’ll look like the loose skin hanging from Mr. Stoma’s ball sack. Is that what you want? IS IT?!

Enjoy biznotchezzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Dumbass of the Week

August 28, 2010

The results are in. And the winner of the Dumbass of the Week award goes to…Mr. Stoma!

(I don’t have an actual pic of him,  so here is a likeness)

Why is Mr. Stoma DotW material? Because he fucked with my friends and he had no reason to. If my friends had done anything to provoke his douchery, I wouldn’t be writing this.

So, my friends – we’ll call them Mr. J and Ms. D – had this friend on FB. As you may have guessed, that friend was Mr. Stoma. After about a month of being FB friends, Mr. Stoma asks for their phone numbers. Why did he ask for their numbers? I don’t know, I’m not familiar with the inner working of the dumbass mind. All I know is that instead of getting a nice leisurely phone call regarding common interests or even healthy political debate, what my friends got was a storm of condescending, vitriolic, and downright rude bullshit.

There are 2 things you need to know about Mr. J and Ms. D before I continue. 1 – They are really GD smart. I mean intelligent AND knowledgeable. But they are not arrogant and in-your-face about it. So, sometimes people try to slip backhanded insults into conversations with them. MISTAKE! 2 – Mr. J is not the fucking one. I know because he and I go way back(goddamn, like 12 or 13 years…fuck we’re old). If you say some dumb, ignorant shit to him, he WILL call you on it.

Here are a few excerpts from emails between Ms. D and me about this wonderful specimen of a dumbass…

this weekend [Mr. Stoma] asked for our numbers. i was a little eh about that so i asked [Mr.J] and he was like sure. so yesterday he calls me and i guess he just wanted to bullshit, but like it was the middle of my workday so i got off. i don’t really remember the particulars, but it’s what he said to [Mr. J] that was really fucked up.

I’m going to pause here to say something. Ms. D and Mr. J work from home. And when I say work, I MEAN ACTUAL WORK! They have a schedule and deadlines and shit. People who work from home don’t owe you their time just because they don’t work in an office. They don’t give a fuck about how ‘some bitch in the club totally gave you a dirty look last night’ at 1p.m.. They’re fucking busy. Just because you go to work and put in the least possible amount of effort in an 8 hour period doesn’t mean they do, too. Stop. Just stop.

he pretty much started the convo with [Mr. J] by pissing him off. he(Mr. Stoma) opened with something like “so you’re having sex with my girlfriend”. Um, WTF?


Yeah…GROSS! That comment is wrong on so many levels. They all barely know each other. And Mr. Stoma is about twice Ms. D’s age. And, apparently, Mr. Stoma was intoxicated at the time of this call. That’s like your dad’s drunk co-worker coming up to your boyfriend at the company’s Christmas party and saying “sho, you sleepin’ wit mah girlfrien, eh? Eh?”, and doing the wink-wink-nudge-nudge thing while staring at your tits. Creepy.

After [Mr. J] gets off the phone, with [Mr. Stoma] throwing backhanded insults the whole time, he calls me. But I have his number on silent so I don’t even notice, lol. No voicemail.

So I guess [Mr. Stoma] went after [Mr. J] on Facebook again today. I guess they were messaging thru it and then I guess he signed off cause [Mr. J] kept being diplomatic, but unrelenting.

THEN, he posts a comment on my fb saying “is you bf a psycho?”

If by psycho you mean calling you out on being a fucking dick, then yes. I have no idea what was actually said between Mr. Stoma and Mr. J. I emailed Mr. J, but he didn’t answer(side-eyes at you, Mr. J!). He did post some stuff on FB that summed up the convo pretty well.

when someone mentions I DON’T DRINK like 50x times while being offensive, losing track of conversation and forgetting entire events…. one has to savor at least a little bit o’ irony

And, when asking if I should nominate this dude for DotW:


Mr. “i sweah i dwont drink and i’l fukn… snore” Stoma

That last one made coffee come out my nose.

Mr Stoma is Dumbass of the Week because he’s doing his drinking problem all wrong. You don’t get plastered at 1 in the afternoon and drunk-dial people you don’t know. You call your ex-gf from 20 years ago and alternate between calling her a dirty whore and sobbing about how she was the one who got away. Then, you turn on your camcorder, do a drunken strip tease(forgetting that it’s laundry day and you’re wearing the underwear with the holes and streak marks), fall over in the middle of it, and upload it to YouTube. GET IT RIGHT, you alcoholic piece of donkey shit DUMBASS!

Pro-tip: DO NOT fuck with my friends. Like, ever.

The Anxiety..It Attacked Me!

August 25, 2010

I got my first anxiety attack when I was about 15 or 16. I was on the train, on my way to school. It was winter, so I had on my heavy-ass coat. It was a reversible brown jacket with suede on one side and faux fur on the other. It was so heavy my shoulders would hurt after wearing it for a while. When we’d go to the cafe to hang out, some of my friends would use it as a pillow. And yes, it looked as bad as it sounds.

I remember I started sweating so I unzipped my heavy-ass brown coat. With every stop on the subway I found it harder and harder to breathe. The train car I was in was crowded, it being the morning rush hour. I was standing in the middle of the car, holding on to one of the poles, trying so hard not to pass out. I couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with me. People were staring at me out of the corners of their eyes. They probably thought I was on something.

It felt like my heart was beating a thousand times a minute. The pressure on my chest was slowly becoming painful. My head was spinning and I was sweating like prostitute in church. I kept telling myself there were only a few stops left. Just 4 more stops. God, I hope I don’t get sick on this train. These people will hate me. Besides, only losers get sick on the train. 3 more stops. Fuck! Did I eat something bad? Was it the coffee? No, it’s me. I need to relax. Why the fuck can’t I just catch my breath and RELAX?! 2 more stops just 2 more stops before I can get the hell out of this godforsaken piece of shit train god I hate this train I hate everyone on this train . 1 more just 1 I can’t nonono I CAN’T fuck am I crying just 1 more 1 more 1 just 1 1 1 1…

Finally I got off at my stop. I ran out of the station as quickly as I could. I didn’t even zipper my jacket. And it was cold. Usually I hate the cold but right then, at that very second the cold felt so goddamn good. I mean if Jack goddamn Frost had been standing there at that moment I would’ve given him anything. And I mean anything…

Since then I’ve gotten more anxiety attacks. I had one today. It was a little disappointing because I hadn’t had one in a really long time. Since learning to meditate I’ve been a lot calmer than in my younger years(I know, this is me calmer). I try to live within my means, which is a huge stress-reducer. I have a wonderful son, a great partner, and awesome friends, so there isn’t a whole lot to get frazzled about. No, I don’t have everything I want, but I have everything I need. So when I do get anxiety attacks there is always a good amount of guilt that comes with it.

So, I kept repeating this quote over and over again:

“There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” –Lao-tzu

Eventually, after chanting this for a little while followed by a tickle fight with Lil Blue, I felt much better. I’m still feeling a little tight in the chest(that’s what she said?), but I think by tomorrow I’ll be good.

I don’t know why I’m writing about this shit, either. I’m pretty sure most people don’t give a fuck. But what can I say? It’s my blog and I’ll bitch if I want to!

Dumbass of the Week: YOU DECIDE!

August 24, 2010

It’s that time again! Time for you beautiful biznotches to holla atchya Blue Collar Mamma and vote for who should be crowned this week’s Dumbass.


“Mr. Stoma” is obviously not this person’s real name, but it might as well be. Because he’s a huge colostomy. Basically, he fucked with 2 of my friends. And I hate that shit. He called them in the middle of a workday, was condescending and obnoxious, and was downright rude to them both. There are details involved, I’ll go into them more if he gets chosen.

“Rev.” Franklin Graham is an evangeli-hole who, among other nonsense, decided to talk smack about President Obama having “the seed of Islam” in him.

“Ms. Customer-is-WRONG” is a woman out in Indiana. My cousin had just moved out there and started working in a retail store. Here is the story:

I just started, and a woman comes in to [retail store], when she gets to register she says to my boss “that Australian lady is really nice” my boss says “who?” ” that lady who [helped me]” “oh she is from Staten Island” “well, yea she was nice!” umm ok!

There we have it. Vote for who you’d like me to mock this week. And remember, there’s always the write-in option. If there’s a Dumbass in your life that deserves attention, let me mock them for you!

Potential Kitchen Disaster of the Day

August 22, 2010

Has it really been a week since I posted a PKD?  That’s just awful. Have you all been reduced to eating dry crusts of Wonder bread with glasses of lukewarm water to dip them in? Shhh, it’s alright now. BCM will make it all better.

I wanted to give you lovelies a recipe that invokes the true spirit of PKDs. You remember our motto, don’t you? Everybody – DAMN THE MAN! Make that shit yo’self! Today’s fancy pants recipe is Chicken Cordon Bleu.

OK, so maybe it’s not all that fancy. It used to be all the rage in the 60’s though. If you want to make it fancier, you can use veal instead of chicken. Some people don’t like the whole eating-baby-cows thing(wussies). I use chicken simply because it’s cheaper.


* 4 skinless, boneless chicken boob halves
* 1/4 teaspoon salt
* 1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
* 6 slices Swiss cheese
* 4 slices cooked ham
* 1 egg, lightly beaten
* 1/2 cup seasoned bread crumbs


1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C for my buddy in GB). Coat a 7×11 inch baking dish with nonstick cooking spray.

2. Pound chicken boobs to 1/4 inch thickness.

3. Sprinkle each piece of chicken on both sides with salt and pepper. Place 1 cheese slice and 1 ham slice on top of each boob. Roll up each boob.

Dip in egg.  Roll in breadcrumbs. Place in baking dish.

4. Bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until chicken is no longer pink. Remove from oven, and place 1/2 cheese slice on top of each breast. Return to oven for 3 to 5 minutes, or until cheese has melted. Serve immediately.

I recommend using actual ham and cheese, not that pre-packaged processed shit. Your deli counter will have actual cooked ham. Just look for it or ask your deli person. You can use Gruyère or Provolone instead of Swiss cheese. I actually like Provolone better. I don’t trust Swiss cheese because it looks like this motherfucker:

If you’re using organic, free-range chicken(I’m looking at you, Liz and The Rev.), then your chicken boobs will be on the small side. There’s no reason for your chicken to be ashamed of its tetas. All you’ll have to do is butterfly them.

So now there is absolutely no reason for you punks to go to [crappy sandwich chain store] to get this dish. And I really promise to try to get a PKD to you quicker this week. I know all 4 of you will be thrilled by this. But, like I said before, I don’t get paid for this shit. So deal with it!

Enjoy biznotchezzzzzzz!