Games & Dames!

My favorite burlesque vixen, Miss Maulie, debuts her Games & Dames show at the perfect time: when the population of ATX will swell as SXSW'ers head into our city. And if you've ever seen Maulie in action, you know it's not just the population that has the potential to swell on Tuesday night.

Maulie is bringing sexy, sassy and sultry back in a way that makes me believe she is the reincarnated love child of Gypsy Rose Lee and Tempest Storm. (Tempest had her "moneymakers" insured by Lloyd's of London in the 50's for the then scandalous sum of one million dollars). If you have never seen Maulie in a giant martini cup you have, short and simple, never lived.

In addition to Maulie, there will be other fabulous fan dancers, blackjack, a Texas Hold 'Em poker tournament and much, much more. We're talking entertainment at it's finest with shakin', shimmying, grinding good times. Comedy, live music, fire spinners and illusionists...what more can you ask for? Oh yes, $1 well drinks and $1 domestic beer. Fantastic!

Doors open at 9pm and the $7 cover gets ya $100 in chips. Show starts at 10pm. This is sure to be a sellout, so plan to be there when I will at ten before the magic hour. I'll be the blogger chica bangin' on the door and pleading with Maulie to let me in early.

Redrum is located behind the Gas Pipe at 401 Sabine Street. That's one block West of IH-35 between 4th & 5th streets near the convention center. Don't miss out on the hottest night of SXSW week!

Dog Chow Takes On A Whole New Meaning...

I'm house and petsitting this week while Freddy & Jed are on vacation. I love their dogs and their dogs love me. Sammy, Roscoe and Logan have been my step furrykids all their lives. Until this week, when two out of three are in grave danger of meeting their maker.

Simply put, Sammy & Roscoe have lost their minds. Logan is the only one not in trouble, causing trouble or being caught getting into trouble. Or possibly he's been troublesome but the other two attract more attention? Who knows.

It started with Roscoe. His bedtime issues that the boys had finally broken him of started back up with a mean red case of vengeance. Sunday night was a tiny bit of whining at bedtime. Monday night he decided to go from zero to 60 and indulge in an hour and a half of whining, barking and baying. I was two minutes away from dosing him with children's Benadryl when he gave up and went to sleep.

Tuesday, Sammy caught the insanity bug. As she is always the most well-behaved, I'm going to attribute her recent incidents to hormones. She has pretended to forget that she knows she isn't allowed on the couch. Especially when the couch is covered with my freshly laundered and folded clothing. Twice, not once, but twice I've caught her up there. The first time she looked at me as if I was the crazy one before hopping off and ambling away to the bedroom.

To make matters worse, I went out for a few hours on Tuesday evening and returned to find the dogs had pushed down the baby gate that keeps them confined to their room and emptied the full trashcan into the kitchen floor. I'm smart enough that there were only paper products and some vegetable peelings in the can since all "worse" trash taken outside immediately. They did rip open a baggie of flour that I'd used to dredge my oxtails in before browning them for osso buco. The floor of the kitchen looked like Tony Montana had sneezed. Logan was probably in on the kitchen caper, but I can't prove which (or if all) were involved. They got stern looks and a firm lecture. All appeared guilty.

Wednesday was Roscoe's turn again. He doesn't want to come inside. Normally not an issue, but the dogs don't stay out in the yard while I'm gone all day at work. I called, whistled, begged for him to come. Nada. I tried using treats to bribe him, which works fantastic with the other two pups. Nope. Finally I had to go out into the yard and circle around until I was behind him, grab his collar and escort him inside.

Thursday they were perfect angels, which is great because I ate leftover Chinese and ended up puking for hours. As I laid across the toilet seat, I realized that that all three dogs were laying in the hall watching me with concerned eyes. How sweet they all were!

Until this morning. I let the crew out when I got up. Since it was a beautiful morning, they stayed outside for about an hour or so. Ready for work and oh so tired from last night's involuntary purging (not to mention 4.5lbs lighter), I opened the door and called for the kiddos. Logan sauntered in, accepted a treat and went to his room like a good giant beast (he's the Great Dane). Roscoe stood six feet away from me at all times and ended up getting the collar-grab routine again. Sammy was...wait, where was Sammy?

No Sammy in the house. No Sammy in the backyard. Gate's closed, doors to garage are closed. WTF? Call for her, whistle, make those "mch, mch, mch" noises with my mouth. Nothin'. I spot a section of fence that has two boards broken off at the bottom. Surely that tiny spot isn't big enough for her to squeeze through? Going for a closer look, I see that the small escape hatch was widened by someone oh maybe could it be Samantha digging under the fence.

I call her name again, with a mix of desperation and irritation. Yup. I see a white and black snout pointing through from the elderly neighbor's yard. GREAT. Sammy comes squirming through and runs into the house, eager for her dog biscuit. Hah. Sammy gets sent to her room without a treat. I then drag a 4' section of extra fencing that Frederick had leaning against the fence over to block the hole. The neighbor had blocked her side with a metal trashcan. I guess Sam's done this before and I hadn't noticed.

I can only imagine what fun things they have in store for me tonight, tomorrow and Saturday. Sunday afternoon my duties are fulfilled and the Daddies & fam come home. I don't know why the furry kids are acting out so much. I'm the regular sitter. They're used to me and are normally much, much more well behaved. I've spent more time with them than any of the past petsitting weeks. Hmmm...maybe that's it. They want more alone time.

I want more than 24 hours to go by without me getting a homocidal urge to turn dogs into chow. I think Roscoe would make a great stew. Sammy is leaner, so I'd have to braise her. Logan would feed us for months.

It Was an Osso Buco Kind of Night

Osso buco has not always meant a rich and delicious dinner entree to me. When I was younger, I somehow got it into my head that it was a dance much like the paso doble or samba. I have no idea how the connection was made but after last night's meal, I can attest to the fact that osso buco is as flavorful and exciting as any Latin dance.

And since I'm housesitting for Frederick & Jed, making this meal was even more interesting. Do you know how difficult it is to keep a basset hound, dalmation and great dane out from underfoot when you're cooking something that smells as good as osso buco? Let me just say that I cha cha cha'd all around Logan, Roscoe and Sammy until I finally had to baby gate myself into the kitchen. I had started out with the crew in the backyard but Logan kept "knocking" at the back door until I let them in. I had to...seeing his mournful face peering at me through the glass and watching his huge paw scratching down the door was too much for me. I'm a sucker, it's true.

I pored over many recipes for slowly braised veal dish and finally compiled my own, based mostly on one by Giada De Laurentiis. I did decide to make a trip to my favorite grocery store with a bulk spices section since a few of the items called for in the recipe are not part of my normal kitchen staples. I didn't want to buy an entire jar of a spice I don't normally use.
And because I'm on a budget, I opted to substitute the key ingredient. I switched the veal shanks to oxtails. Yes, purists will argue it isn't osso buco without veal. I don't care what you want to call an oxtail version of osso buco, it was fully satisfying.

I also nixed the traditional risotto side dish and went with creamy, cheesey polenta. I bought a chub of polenta, cubed it and heated it with 1/2 cup of chicken stock and 1/2 cup of half and half. Using a potato masher, I smoothed the lumps out and threw in about a 1/4 cup of grated parmesan cheese, a pinch of sea salt, several dashes of pepper and a small bit of butter. The smooth and tasty polenta complemented rather than competed with the deeper flavor of the osso buco.

This recipe calls for a bouquet garni, a little cheesecloth packet of herbs. You can skip buying cheesecloth if you have a loose tea infuser at home. Remove the leaves from the woody stalk on the rosemary and thyme and place loose into the infuser along with the cloves and bay leaf, which you can break into large pieces. The infuser can then sit in the pot much like a cheesecloth wrapped bundle would if going with a more traditional method.

The recipe was incredibly easy. The hardest part is the wait, especially when the fragrant smell from the simmering pot is tickling your taste buds. Because I used oxtails, I had to increase the cooking time by almost another full hour. All I can say is that it's well worth the lengthy braising time.

Osso Buco

2-3lbs. veal shanks
1 small onion, diced
1 carrot, diced
1 rib celery, diced
1 Tb. lemon zest
3 Tb. flat leaf parsley, chopped
1 sprig fresh thyme
1 sprig fresh rosemary
1 dried bay leaf
2 whole cloves
sea salt
fresh ground pepper
all purpose flour
1/2 cup olive oil
1 cup dry white wine
2-3 cups chicken stock
1 Tb. tomato paste
kitchen twine
cheesecloth

Rinse veal and pat dry before seasoning with salt and pepper. (If you prefer your meat to stay in one piece, use a piece of twine to secure each shank, tying around the cut of meat). Dredge in flour and shake off excess. Place washed bay leaf, cloves, rosemary & thyme into a square of cheesecloth and tie the top, making your bouquet garni.

In a large heavy pot, such as a dutch oven, heat oil until very hot. Brown veal on all sides, remove from pot and keep warm in covered dish. In same pot, saute the onion, carrot and celery, seasoning it with a bit of salt. When vegetables are soft and translucent, add tomato paste and stir well. Return meat to pan, add white wine and cook until the liquid is reduced by half.

Add bouquet garni and 2 cups of chicken stock. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to low and cover. Simmer for about 1.5 to 2 hours or until meat is ultra tender. Every 15 minutes during cooking time, turn meat and add more chicken stock if the liquid falls below 3/4 up the sides of the shanks.

During last half hour of cooking add the parsley and lemon zest. When meat is tender to the point of falling off the bone, remove bouquet garni and throw away. Cut off kitchen twine if veal has been tied. Serve over risotto or polenta with pan juices poured over shanks.

Needles and music and moxa, oh my!

I had my very first acupuncture experience last night. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but the friend who’d given me a gift certificate always raves about how great she feels after her session. I know most people use acupuncture to treat ailments or injuries, but I wasn’t certain what my goal or target was since, well, I have more medical crap going on than most octogenarians in China. Because acupuncture is a traditional Chinese medicine, those healthy seniors must be onto something.

When I arrived, the first thing that captured my attention wasn’t the pot of hot water and varieties of tea bags, the bottled water, Eastern religion figurines and artwork or the soft music. It was the smell. There was a distinct odor in the air that I hadn’t smelled since my last visit to a college dormitory. Kind of a sweet yet musky, cloying aroma. Yup. It was the scent of really low quality marijuana.

As she was ushering me into a private room, my acupuncturist quickly explained that the odor was not cheap pot but a recompounded herb called Moxa, derived from mug worth. Their office burned it as part of the treatment and in lieu of other incense.

Once in the room, we went over the health history questionnaire I’d filled out and determined that my focus for the visit would be simply, a fresh start. I’m embarking on several personal growth projects and need a clear mind and refreshed body. As soon as the decision was made, my acupuncturist grabbed her needles and went to work.

Picture this: you’re laying in your underwear on a massage table, covered by a sheet, pillow under your knees and a few strategically placed heat lamps warming you. Your legs are uncovered from the knee down, and your arms are on top of the covers. Suddenly, a needle is poked into the side of your calf. Strangely enough, no pain.

My friends know I’m needle shy. The surprise of having no pain was short lived, however, when the second needle insertion sent a tingle down my other calf, much like a weak electrical shock. I was more nervous than hurt, but I did have to engage in some relaxation breathing so I wouldn’t feel stressed at the thought of more needles.

In short time I had needles in my feet, near the insides of my elbows, at my wrists and in the webbing of my thumb and forefinger, at the top of the bridge of my nose between my eyebrows, sternum and even in the crown of my head. The acupuncturist patted me and told me she was leaving me for about 25 minutes to go “release someone”. She said I may feel sleepy or like I’m drifting in and out of consciousness.

I lay there, soothing music in the background, heat lamps on and felt exactly like a bug pinned to an entomologist’s specimen board. Well, maybe not a regular bug…perhaps a prettily colored butterfly. I did drift off to a state of semi-consciousness, drowsily clearing my mind until a sharp rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat-tat threw me back into reality. My eyes flew open just to see a cardinal perched outside the window, tapping at the glass. As soon as I lifted my head, he flew off. Odd, but it really seemed as if he knew he was rousing me from relaxation.

After a comfortable amount of time, my acupuncturist returned, removed the needles and had me flip over onto my tummy. She then inserted a needle several inches below my neck, in the upper part of my back, and two in my lower back, an area that has always been sensitive to touch, whether it’s wind, fingertips or otherwise. This is where the moxa came into play. The burning of the herb on my body produced a localized heat that spread through me in a deliciously soporific manner. I could have lain there for hours, feeling less like a pinned down bug and more like a pampered socialite at an expensive spa.

Leaving the office was entertaining. I felt languorous, almost as if I was in an altered state of consciousness. And yes, folks, I drove home. The rest of the evening can be summed up this way: ate dinner, drank copious amounts of water, sank into a deep, deep sleep. I’ve definitely become a fan of the needle.