Seven days.
It has been seven days since my return from South Carolina.
It has been seven days since I've had running water in my home.
While I was gone in South Carolina, my water lines froze. I initially thought it was due to the house getting too cold, but we found out that it was more likely that the supply line froze under the driveway. We have attempted several different run-around methods of supplying water to my trailer, one including a 130-foot hose spanned from the water pit to my outside hydrant, but the bitterly cold temperature started freezing the water in the hose. My roommate Nate and I have been carrying buckets of water into the house for toilet use, but the dishes and laundry are piling up. Fortunately, this next week's forecast is calling for delicious above-freezing temperatures, so hopefully things will thaw out and I'll again be able to take showers at my own place. Funny how we get so used to something and in an instant, it all changes. So many things are affected by a lack of running water. I think the moral of the story is "Don't procrastinate on cleaning and washing and scrubbing because that luxury might be taken away without a moment's notice." I cooked some food the other day and went to wash my hands out of sheer instinct, until I realized that the simple act of washing hands would require a 50-yard trek through the snow to get a bucket of water. "50 yards, carrying a 5-gallon bucket full of water! Might as well be a triathalon! Eh, I'll just wipe my hands on my pants. That'll do for now."
Showing posts with label Shane. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Shane. Show all posts
Monday, February 17, 2014
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
How to Make Delicious Pizza When You Have Zero Pizza Ingredients
Truly, bachelors are champions of improvisation, especially when it comes to cooking.
One evening, I wanted pizza in a bad way. My roommate Shane was of the same mindset. So, we set out to craft some, but then realized we didn't want to wait TWO STANKIN' HOURS for my gluten-free pizza crust to rise. So we flew by the seat of our pants and crafted a never-before-attempted culinary masterpiece! We subsequently videoed the eating of our masterpiece and I put that video on Facebook. This blog post is a response to a friend commenting the following:
"I want to try that pizza!!! Recipe now!! I mean it!!!!!"
When a woman uses 10 exclamation points to emphasize something, she really means whatever she's trying to emphasize. So here I reveal the secret formula behind the Ultimate Bachelor Pizza.
Start with the crust.
First determine you want pizza. Then look at the pizza crust. Look at the ridiculous amount of time it takes to make gluten-free pizza crust. Toss the idea of a normal pizza. It's time for speedy pizza.
Take a gluten-free pancake mix (I used Pamela's Pancake Mix) and try to make the largest pancakes you can. Before they're completely done, place them on a cookie sheet. They'll be baking in the oven eventually, so that's why you don't want them completely done. They should be large and square, because you're going to place them side-by-side on the cookie sheet to make an unconventional crust.
Get you some sauce.
Will pizza sauce taste normal on slightly-golden, fluffy pancakes? Who knows? We certainly don't, because we didn't have any pizza sauce on hand. But we had Ranch dressing, and that obviously makes everything better (unlike butter). So put some of that on. Experiment with your sauce! We placed Ranch on one half, mayonnaise and mustard on the other half. We threw some mild salsa in there as well, because it was the closest thing we had to pizza sauce.
Toppin's all over that bidness.
You're getting somewhere. But now you've hit a tiny hitch in your plans. There's hardly any cheese. No pepperoni, sausage, peppers, or mushrooms to be found. But now is not time for retreat. The oven is already preheatin' away at three-hundred-and-fifty thundering degrees! Grab whatever is on hand and toss it on! We liberally added bacon, onions, and pepper jack cheese to both sides.
Heat it all up, son.
Place the bizarre-topping-smothered pancakes into the oven and bake them until the cheese melts. The bacon was fried until slightly crispy and then cut, just in case you were beginning to think that bachelors are mentally retarded and eat pork products raw. Well, maybe sometimes when we don't think about it, but NOT THIS TIME.
When I witnessed the ingredients going into this onion-bacon-mustard pizza cake (Onbacmuspizcake?), I was interested in tasting the results only for Science. And curiosity. But that foodstuff came out with an undeniably delicious smell. Shane dove in first, trying some of the mustard/mayo side. I tried the Ranch side.
It was so good.
IT WAS SO. GOOD.
The crust had a sweet aftertaste. After giving it some considerable thought, Shane and I concluded the sweetness was because the crust started its life out as a pancake. You would think the contrast of sweet, delicious pancake and strong oniony-mustardness would be awful but it brought out a fantastic blend of superior flavors. Also, we were pretty hungry when we finally ate.
The pizza-like material was tested by several visitors, who all gave high regards to its unique taste. Alaynna's brother, Alex, quoted that he was half-starved and hadn't eaten much of anything for an entire day, but a cold slice (slab? flap?) of our pizza was so tasty, he'd prefer it to most other leftovers.
When we went for seconds, Shane tried the ranch, while I tried the mustard/mayo. I think we both decided the mustard half was the better half, even though both sides tasted unreasonably good, considering thelackadaisical construction with whatever we had on hand carefully-selected ingredients.
So there you have it, Pizza a la Bachelor. I don't have any measurements. That's half the fun, making it up as you go! But for you less-creative types that want a more concrete recipe, I'll throw in some numbers.
YOU WILL NEED:
One serving of pancake batter. It will make either 6 normal pancakes or three large pancakes/tiny pizza crusts.
Half of a large white onion. I don't think we used the ENTIRE half, but we used quite a bit.
Five slices of thick-cut, smoked bacon, fried and chopped.
Half a pound of pepper jack cheese.
1/4 jar of mild salsa. You could probably use more (and it would be even more delicious) but that's all we had on hand.
Mustard and mayonnaise to taste.
A thin layer of ranch, as a pizza sauce. So 3/4 of a bottle of Ranch should be adequate. :)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees, make sure to grease the cookie sheet before adding the pancake crust, since gluten-free stuff bakes on to pans easily. Bake pizza until cheese melts. That took our pizza roughly 10-12 minutes.
As my mind drifts back to that brainstormy evening, the taste of that pizza grows in my mind, becoming this legendary phenomenon that begs to be revisited. Perhaps my next one will be more breakfast-themed. Pancakes with cream cheese, sausage and bacon, cheddar cheese and a little maple syrup, perhaps. A side of scrambled eggs and some hashbrowns? Yes.
What is the strangest pizza you've ever made and/or eaten?
One evening, I wanted pizza in a bad way. My roommate Shane was of the same mindset. So, we set out to craft some, but then realized we didn't want to wait TWO STANKIN' HOURS for my gluten-free pizza crust to rise. So we flew by the seat of our pants and crafted a never-before-attempted culinary masterpiece! We subsequently videoed the eating of our masterpiece and I put that video on Facebook. This blog post is a response to a friend commenting the following:
"I want to try that pizza!!! Recipe now!! I mean it!!!!!"
When a woman uses 10 exclamation points to emphasize something, she really means whatever she's trying to emphasize. So here I reveal the secret formula behind the Ultimate Bachelor Pizza.
Start with the crust.
First determine you want pizza. Then look at the pizza crust. Look at the ridiculous amount of time it takes to make gluten-free pizza crust. Toss the idea of a normal pizza. It's time for speedy pizza.
Take a gluten-free pancake mix (I used Pamela's Pancake Mix) and try to make the largest pancakes you can. Before they're completely done, place them on a cookie sheet. They'll be baking in the oven eventually, so that's why you don't want them completely done. They should be large and square, because you're going to place them side-by-side on the cookie sheet to make an unconventional crust.
Get you some sauce.
Will pizza sauce taste normal on slightly-golden, fluffy pancakes? Who knows? We certainly don't, because we didn't have any pizza sauce on hand. But we had Ranch dressing, and that obviously makes everything better (unlike butter). So put some of that on. Experiment with your sauce! We placed Ranch on one half, mayonnaise and mustard on the other half. We threw some mild salsa in there as well, because it was the closest thing we had to pizza sauce.
Toppin's all over that bidness.
You're getting somewhere. But now you've hit a tiny hitch in your plans. There's hardly any cheese. No pepperoni, sausage, peppers, or mushrooms to be found. But now is not time for retreat. The oven is already preheatin' away at three-hundred-and-fifty thundering degrees! Grab whatever is on hand and toss it on! We liberally added bacon, onions, and pepper jack cheese to both sides.
Heat it all up, son.
Place the bizarre-topping-smothered pancakes into the oven and bake them until the cheese melts. The bacon was fried until slightly crispy and then cut, just in case you were beginning to think that bachelors are mentally retarded and eat pork products raw. Well, maybe sometimes when we don't think about it, but NOT THIS TIME.
When I witnessed the ingredients going into this onion-bacon-mustard pizza cake (Onbacmuspizcake?), I was interested in tasting the results only for Science. And curiosity. But that foodstuff came out with an undeniably delicious smell. Shane dove in first, trying some of the mustard/mayo side. I tried the Ranch side.
It was so good.
IT WAS SO. GOOD.
The crust had a sweet aftertaste. After giving it some considerable thought, Shane and I concluded the sweetness was because the crust started its life out as a pancake. You would think the contrast of sweet, delicious pancake and strong oniony-mustardness would be awful but it brought out a fantastic blend of superior flavors. Also, we were pretty hungry when we finally ate.
The pizza-like material was tested by several visitors, who all gave high regards to its unique taste. Alaynna's brother, Alex, quoted that he was half-starved and hadn't eaten much of anything for an entire day, but a cold slice (slab? flap?) of our pizza was so tasty, he'd prefer it to most other leftovers.
When we went for seconds, Shane tried the ranch, while I tried the mustard/mayo. I think we both decided the mustard half was the better half, even though both sides tasted unreasonably good, considering the
So there you have it, Pizza a la Bachelor. I don't have any measurements. That's half the fun, making it up as you go! But for you less-creative types that want a more concrete recipe, I'll throw in some numbers.
YOU WILL NEED:
One serving of pancake batter. It will make either 6 normal pancakes or three large pancakes/tiny pizza crusts.
Half of a large white onion. I don't think we used the ENTIRE half, but we used quite a bit.
Five slices of thick-cut, smoked bacon, fried and chopped.
Half a pound of pepper jack cheese.
1/4 jar of mild salsa. You could probably use more (and it would be even more delicious) but that's all we had on hand.
Mustard and mayonnaise to taste.
A thin layer of ranch, as a pizza sauce. So 3/4 of a bottle of Ranch should be adequate. :)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees, make sure to grease the cookie sheet before adding the pancake crust, since gluten-free stuff bakes on to pans easily. Bake pizza until cheese melts. That took our pizza roughly 10-12 minutes.
As my mind drifts back to that brainstormy evening, the taste of that pizza grows in my mind, becoming this legendary phenomenon that begs to be revisited. Perhaps my next one will be more breakfast-themed. Pancakes with cream cheese, sausage and bacon, cheddar cheese and a little maple syrup, perhaps. A side of scrambled eggs and some hashbrowns? Yes.
What is the strangest pizza you've ever made and/or eaten?
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
My Roomies are Better than Yours
As each day passes, I feel more and more blessed with the roommates that the good Lord has provided me with. I've thought this from time to time, but the tipping point of my gratitude came after reading this Craigslist ad:
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/488537774.html
where some feeble man pleas for a roommate that meets his outlandish requests. I fear that the only person to meet those requests would be a deaf/mute with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or someone who has been deceased for at least two years. The man seems nice enough, and I can certainly relate to his comment that "...I've realized that life is much better when it's shared with people..."
Because of this very article, as well as many other indicators, I've come to the realization how tremendously blessed I am in the roommate department. So for this post, I'm just gonna brag up my roommates.
Shane Schwartz is my childhood friend, my accountability partner, and my adviser in fashion and appearance. He's the blunt friend that asks me what I've been up to and how I've been doing spiritually. He sang for many years with me in a male quartet that holds some of my fondest memories. He has a dry humor that is irreplaceable, and he's always up for a game, a midnight conversation, a work project, or a "let's go second-hand shopping right now" trip.
If I made a list of "Ideal Roommate Qualities", a good deal of the list would be modeled after Shane. He's orderly and clean. He cooks fantastic meals and shares them. He has an excellent taste in board games, knives, and cheese. He sleeps through hurricanes, nuclear holocausts, and noisy parties that I hold at odd hours of the night. He does many thankless chores without complaint and doesn't make a big show of all the cleaning he does. With the help of his wonderful, massive German Shepherds, Shane has tamed the woods around our trailer to suit our bachelorous needs. We have clean campfire spots. We have a not-quite-finished 400-square-foot dock. Once upon a time Shane grabbed a machete and now we have a 1/4-mile trail hacked through dense growth alongside the river that leads to a secluded sandy beach.
That's Nigel, one of Shane's incredible German Shepherds.
I sometimes grumble when I see Shane sleeping in and/or deciding not to do roofing for the day, but when I get back from work I'll inevitably find a project Shane has thought up, designed, built, and completed that day, like the one time I left for 8 hours and returned to find an A-frame shelter he built using spare wood and some leftover shingles. He obviously didn't get the memo that he was supposed to be lazy all day so I could at least feel smug.
Shane loves trying new things and being random. Once, he emptied an entire clip of .22 ammo at a squirrel without hitting it. When I asked him about that (for he is an excellent shot), he replied that he just wanted to spice up the squirrel's life. He once got his hair braided while in Honduras. He named his incredible mustache "Cedrick". He frequently goes to theater try-outs and has been in several community theater plays.
Shane, working on Cedrick II whilst displaying his Honduran hairstyle, which contained over 90 braids.
Shane likes breakfast, but he doesn't really prefer cold cereal. He enjoys hot meals but like every other human in the entire world except for mothers, he doesn't like making hot meals in the morning. Instead of resigning himself to pop-tarts or Eggo waffles, Shane will occasionally throw together an entire crock pot of delicious food to cook overnight. I have experienced many cool things in my short life, but the smell of bacon-wrapped chicken breasts with potatoes wafting their sultry scent through the trailer in the wee hours of the morning is one of the coolest.
Victor Gingerich is my awesome man-friend from high school. I've known Victor and his identical twin Benjamin for longer than that, but I didn't become close friends with him until high school, where we shared many a note slipped to each other behind the watchful eyes of our Superintendent. Victor is energy. There is just not much he can't do when he sets his mind to it. Victor works with heavy construction machinery with his family business and often puts that expertise to good use around our place, grading and smoothing embankments, removing tree stumps...all things that I'm extremely grateful for. Victor has a passion for truth, justice, and seeing hearts changed by Jesus Christ. He keeps his room spotless and always has his bed made, much to my shame since my room looks like the beaches of Normandy after D-Day.
Victor is the dapper man in the argyle. The tie-wearing man on the right is my good friend Anthony Helmuth. This photo was taken at a wonderful White Christmas Party staged by my friend Alaynna.
Many times Shane and I will arrive home with groceries we've selected and purchased without consulting Victor, yet he gladly pitches in with the cost. Victor brings home and shares exotic fruits, like pomegranates, raspberries and carambola. Victor is honest, trustworthy, and hard-working. I don't see Victor very much at home, due to his schedule being packed with work, league basketball, helping the youth group out at his church, and diligently attending Intercession, which is one of those special prayer times that churches organize because they're excellent ideas, but many are sparsely attended. VICTOR GOES TO THOSE. He normally heads to bed earlier than Shane and I, but on occasion Victor will sacrifice sleep to have awesome chats with me about life, leadership, following God, sexual temptation, the state of our nation, and a billion other topics that seem SO important that they just can't be discussed later, they have to be discussed at 1am. Victor speaks life into a group of young men in our area, including my little brother Shane (not to be confused with my roommate Shane). He does activities with them, feeds them snacks, prays with them, counsels them, and leads them by example, showing those impressionable teens how a gentleman should behave.
Mostly, I'm thankful that both Shane and Victor tolerate me. Victor is passionate about our nation's government and still loves me even though I chose not to vote this Presidential election. Shane allows me to use him as the brunt of jokes when we have guests over. Shane's also extremely patient when I painstakingly explain to EVERY GUEST how his parents stole my parents' name for me, 14 days before my birth. Both of them sleep peacefully through all the racket I make late at night, which is something I'm incapable of doing in return. (I feel pretty guilty about being such a light sleeper, and since I stay up late most evenings, I am more than willing to accommodate when my roommates plan late evenings.)
With their humor, wit, and fun-loving attitudes, Shane and Victor breathe life into my little corner of the world.
Both of my roommates are single, despite being the most eligible bachelors in all of Washington County, if not the state of Iowa. Please don't do anything to change that. If Shane and Victor were to get all hitched to some super nice lady (one lady each, not the same lady), I would be deprived of some first-rate roommates.
One of these days, I'll get around to figuring out ways to show my appreciation for them. I have no idea what object would possibly convey the depth of my gratitude. Perhaps I'll put my coins in the coin jar toward buying them solid-gold SUV's with the words "I TOTALLY APPRECIATE YOU, MAN" emblazoned on the back.
You guys are the best. I'm grateful to call you my roommates, and lucky to call you my friends.
http://www.craigslist.org/about/best/sfo/488537774.html
where some feeble man pleas for a roommate that meets his outlandish requests. I fear that the only person to meet those requests would be a deaf/mute with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder or someone who has been deceased for at least two years. The man seems nice enough, and I can certainly relate to his comment that "...I've realized that life is much better when it's shared with people..."
Because of this very article, as well as many other indicators, I've come to the realization how tremendously blessed I am in the roommate department. So for this post, I'm just gonna brag up my roommates.
Shane Schwartz is my childhood friend, my accountability partner, and my adviser in fashion and appearance. He's the blunt friend that asks me what I've been up to and how I've been doing spiritually. He sang for many years with me in a male quartet that holds some of my fondest memories. He has a dry humor that is irreplaceable, and he's always up for a game, a midnight conversation, a work project, or a "let's go second-hand shopping right now" trip.
If I made a list of "Ideal Roommate Qualities", a good deal of the list would be modeled after Shane. He's orderly and clean. He cooks fantastic meals and shares them. He has an excellent taste in board games, knives, and cheese. He sleeps through hurricanes, nuclear holocausts, and noisy parties that I hold at odd hours of the night. He does many thankless chores without complaint and doesn't make a big show of all the cleaning he does. With the help of his wonderful, massive German Shepherds, Shane has tamed the woods around our trailer to suit our bachelorous needs. We have clean campfire spots. We have a not-quite-finished 400-square-foot dock. Once upon a time Shane grabbed a machete and now we have a 1/4-mile trail hacked through dense growth alongside the river that leads to a secluded sandy beach.
I sometimes grumble when I see Shane sleeping in and/or deciding not to do roofing for the day, but when I get back from work I'll inevitably find a project Shane has thought up, designed, built, and completed that day, like the one time I left for 8 hours and returned to find an A-frame shelter he built using spare wood and some leftover shingles. He obviously didn't get the memo that he was supposed to be lazy all day so I could at least feel smug.
Shane loves trying new things and being random. Once, he emptied an entire clip of .22 ammo at a squirrel without hitting it. When I asked him about that (for he is an excellent shot), he replied that he just wanted to spice up the squirrel's life. He once got his hair braided while in Honduras. He named his incredible mustache "Cedrick". He frequently goes to theater try-outs and has been in several community theater plays.
Shane likes breakfast, but he doesn't really prefer cold cereal. He enjoys hot meals but like every other human in the entire world except for mothers, he doesn't like making hot meals in the morning. Instead of resigning himself to pop-tarts or Eggo waffles, Shane will occasionally throw together an entire crock pot of delicious food to cook overnight. I have experienced many cool things in my short life, but the smell of bacon-wrapped chicken breasts with potatoes wafting their sultry scent through the trailer in the wee hours of the morning is one of the coolest.
Victor Gingerich is my awesome man-friend from high school. I've known Victor and his identical twin Benjamin for longer than that, but I didn't become close friends with him until high school, where we shared many a note slipped to each other behind the watchful eyes of our Superintendent. Victor is energy. There is just not much he can't do when he sets his mind to it. Victor works with heavy construction machinery with his family business and often puts that expertise to good use around our place, grading and smoothing embankments, removing tree stumps...all things that I'm extremely grateful for. Victor has a passion for truth, justice, and seeing hearts changed by Jesus Christ. He keeps his room spotless and always has his bed made, much to my shame since my room looks like the beaches of Normandy after D-Day.
Many times Shane and I will arrive home with groceries we've selected and purchased without consulting Victor, yet he gladly pitches in with the cost. Victor brings home and shares exotic fruits, like pomegranates, raspberries and carambola. Victor is honest, trustworthy, and hard-working. I don't see Victor very much at home, due to his schedule being packed with work, league basketball, helping the youth group out at his church, and diligently attending Intercession, which is one of those special prayer times that churches organize because they're excellent ideas, but many are sparsely attended. VICTOR GOES TO THOSE. He normally heads to bed earlier than Shane and I, but on occasion Victor will sacrifice sleep to have awesome chats with me about life, leadership, following God, sexual temptation, the state of our nation, and a billion other topics that seem SO important that they just can't be discussed later, they have to be discussed at 1am. Victor speaks life into a group of young men in our area, including my little brother Shane (not to be confused with my roommate Shane). He does activities with them, feeds them snacks, prays with them, counsels them, and leads them by example, showing those impressionable teens how a gentleman should behave.
Mostly, I'm thankful that both Shane and Victor tolerate me. Victor is passionate about our nation's government and still loves me even though I chose not to vote this Presidential election. Shane allows me to use him as the brunt of jokes when we have guests over. Shane's also extremely patient when I painstakingly explain to EVERY GUEST how his parents stole my parents' name for me, 14 days before my birth. Both of them sleep peacefully through all the racket I make late at night, which is something I'm incapable of doing in return. (I feel pretty guilty about being such a light sleeper, and since I stay up late most evenings, I am more than willing to accommodate when my roommates plan late evenings.)
With their humor, wit, and fun-loving attitudes, Shane and Victor breathe life into my little corner of the world.
Both of my roommates are single, despite being the most eligible bachelors in all of Washington County, if not the state of Iowa. Please don't do anything to change that. If Shane and Victor were to get all hitched to some super nice lady (one lady each, not the same lady), I would be deprived of some first-rate roommates.
One of these days, I'll get around to figuring out ways to show my appreciation for them. I have no idea what object would possibly convey the depth of my gratitude. Perhaps I'll put my coins in the coin jar toward buying them solid-gold SUV's with the words "I TOTALLY APPRECIATE YOU, MAN" emblazoned on the back.
You guys are the best. I'm grateful to call you my roommates, and lucky to call you my friends.
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