exactly that

Posts tagged ‘h/t’


Seriously! It’s been a big day, what with me starting a Twitterfight and all, which resulted in me being five kinds of hungry. I tell you, Readerland, it was the kind of hungry that could only be satisfied with my own throwdown into the contest of who makes the best tacos EVAH!*

All I could think about all day long was tacos.

I have a love of those messy disasters of meat and pico and whatever you can cram into a tortilla (corn, of course!) and have come to understand that there is just Not a Way to eat them Neatly. I must have either the best in town, or the cheap ones you get at that ridiculous chain, the one Outside the Box or whatever. One day I dream of visiting abbyjean and taking the Unofficial Taco Tour of L.A. (Vampires Not Included). (That was an Inside Joke, Soz.)

So, I searched all day, Readerland, from one end of the Internet to the Other, which should be read as half an Earth Hour, because that is really the length of time it took me to come across a recipe that we ended up using, Via an old NYT article entitled “The Taco Joint in Your Kitchen”, which I ran into while perusing Smitten Kitchen’s archives (I am in love with Deb’s blog, so, thanks, Maia, from Change, who I doubt reads my blog, but thanks anyhow!).

And damn my luck, my camera is down in the car in our parking garage and I just couldn’t muster up the energy to go and get it, but trust me, these tacos were beautiful and delicious, and well worth the time it took to make them.

We have limited availability of some fancier ingredients, so we didn’t roast all of the spices like it says to, and substituted powdered instead, and put a few drops of liquid smoke into the spice paste. We have it on hand from making Kalua Pig in our crock pot like big cheaters, what with not having the backyard and brick pit for burying an actual pig. The taste was quite good. Oh, who am I kidding? The taste overall was just great!

We also put the rinds of the citrus fruit (we used limes instead of lemons because that is what we had on hand) in the roasting liquid which made the meat slightly bitter. This was evened out by the salsa fresca or pico or whatever you want to call it we made to top it.

I have yet to come up with a good technique for baking corn tortillas. I am far too health conscious lazy to fry them when I am really tired, and we really love fresh corn tortillas. One of these days I promise to make them myself, but for now the brand of fresh-like ones we buy will do, if only we could get them tastier by baking. Without buying a fancy uni-use item for our tiny kitchen.

Oh, and would you believe our commissary actually had Tapatío? I have never seen a hot sauce other than Franks on the shelves! Better believe we bought that shit! Almost make up for the total lack of avocados, so sadly, our pork tacos had to go without guac OR yummy slices of fresh avo. OH THE HORRORS!

And if I wasn’t so privileged and aware of it, I would think that was a real tragedy. I got over it when The Guy bought me a champagne cola from the aisle where they keep the pre-made salsa, because I’d never had one, and it made my tongue kind of numb, which amused me. I remembered again when we had to eat our tacos with no avocado.

I’m over it again.

OK. Enough babble for now. Let’s get to what you came here for! I think the original recipe might be under subscription, so here it is!

Slow Roasted Pork Tacos

Slightly adapted from this recipe at the NY Times

10 cloves of peeled garlic (that is not a typo)

2 pound boneless pork butt (that’s a shoulder if you are not familiar with butcher terminology, since I know some of mah peeps are new with the cooking, so I try to accommodate that) We used a 4 pounder tonight because that is what they had and adjusted.

1/2 Tablespoon each of:

ground, mixed peppercorns






2 Tablespoons fresh orange juice

2 Tablespoons fresh lime juice

Allow the meat to come to room temperature. Preheat the oven to 300 F or about, umm, 150 C. Slice four of the cloves of garlic into thin slices, and with a thin knife make small slits in the pork to slid the garlic into. Tuck the garlic on in there.

Combine spices, salt, and remaining garlic in a food processor and make a paste by slowly adding the citrus juice (we didn’t need all of it to do this). It should be a smooth puree that will rub easily all over the surface of your meat. Do that. You can let it sit at room temperature for 2 hours or in the refrigerator for 24 (but we didn’t).

At this point you can either put it on a grill that is covered in aluminum (al-oo-min-ee-um) foil, or in a roasting pan in that preheated oven (the original recipe wasn’t clear if you were supposed to cover it. We assumed you should and did) for at least two hours. The longer the better, as we understand it. You should baste it periodically to make sure it doesn’t dry out on the top, and add more liquid if it isn’t producing enough. We stuffed the citrus peels in after the liquid appeared, but it did make the meat a bit bitter. If you are us, you are going to take the lid off for the last thirty minutes to get the nice browned chewy bits on the top.

Take the hot meat out of the pan and shred it up all nice. You can serve it hot or room temperature on nice warm, tortillas. Corn if you love tacos, and flour if you are a monster! Ha! Just kidding! Eat your tacos however you like them! We served ours with a little fresh pico and even some sour cream!

Our fresh pico (today’s version, anyhow):

4 big beefsteak tomatoes

2 medium yellow onions

1 Pablano pepper, seeded

1 yellow Anaheim pepper, seeded

a few cloves of garlic (we lost count)

a bunch of cilantro, stems removed

sea salt and lime juice to taste

toss it all in a food processor and whirl it around until the chunks are the size you like.


*This is a trick statement and of course, misleading. The best tacos are made at Rosie’s Cantina in Hale’iwa, HI. The fish tacos are to die for. I hope that clears things up a bit.


Fun Food, Shaming, and Some Mommy Solidarity…

The other day on my Tumblr a follower/followee tumbled this great idea for these amazing RAINBOW PANCAKES! by Amanda at i am mommy. Naturally I was taken at first glimpse, and she had me at “Seriously… if you want to start out your day with the most gloriously happy children, just try these yummy rainbow pancakes.” Well, I have a The Kid and a The Guy, and I figured that was close enough. I knew I wanted to try them. I made a mental note to try them as soon as all of this birthday hoopla was over*.

When I saw that she had taken a lot of flack, and by flack I mean nasty nasty shaming for just wanting to make her family happy, I was so incredibly sad enraged. Like, really, really enraged in that visceral way that one mother will get really defensive of another because we have been there and have been overcharged for the t-shirt. Because there is this culture out there that tells the whole wide multiverse that when they see us do something that they think is R-O-N-G for our children that they can just drive by and tell us. Everything from how we push the kids out of our own vagina and what we wipe their bottoms with to what we diaper them with or put in their mouths (You aren’t going to put that boob in their mouth are you? Oh NOEZ! This FORMULA HAS RHA! WHAT ABOUT HER BRAIN!?!) or how and when we potty train or whathaveyou. It never stops. Ever. And as children get older there is more and more to drive by parent about.

A favorite is food. And we are either putting too much or not enough or the wrong kind into their mouths, and if it isn’t organic (funny, huh, b/c if it grows it is by definition organic, but as The Kid says “potato, tomato”) and locally grown and kosher and or whatever then it is R-O-N-G.

So what Amanda did was make something, at home, with her own hands and heart (yup, I can be corny too, girl) and serve it up to her kids to be fun, and the loved it. LOVED IT! How many times does a mom have time to serve up something that her kids LOVE and that they GOBBLE UP, on average (I realize that this is a privilege to many, and I know that I rarely have time and energy to go to this kind of effort, and I have privilege coming out my ears). And yet, her privilege of time and effort here isn’t good enough.

Well, in a moment of solidarity I moved up my Rainbow Pancake breakfast, because we had time and I had a good night’s sleep last night, and we had the same results that Amanda did, in that it was a Huge Success, not only in that it was really tasty and all that, but that we all had fun in the process (I believe you can click to embiggen):

Six white bowls with four-leaf clover pattern, each containing one colour; red, orange, yellow, green, blue and violet on a white counter top.

The batter is slightly smoother than normal, because you have to mix it first, then divide it, and then add the colour, then mix it again.

Bright green pancake batter in a white bowl being scooped by pale hands holding a blue measuring cup.

Hands pour violet pancake batter onto a griddle where an orange and a blue pancake are already cooking.

I made them smaller than my normal pancakes since I knew the stacks would be bigger.

Five pancakes, one of each color, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, cook on a stove-top griddle.

It is like Skittles cooking on my stove. I am fully aware I may be like Sparkles the Glitter Shitting Unicorn for a few days (tried and true law based on past experiences with birthday cakes and other baking experiments with food dye), but it was totes worth it.

A stack of six pancakes stacked like a rainbow with red on top and violet on the bottom stand on a white plate with clovers printed on it. A similar stack in is seen in the background.

They stacked just as beautifully as I had expected!

A stack of pancakes stacked in rainbow order with a bite taken out of them.

I wish Amanda all the best in her continued blogging, and more friendly comments, because, wow, she did nothing wrong here. At all.

What she did do was give me a great idea, and inspire me. She gave me and my family a wonderful Sunday morning full of fun and memories, and a delightful breakfast that we talked about with lots of people for the rest of the day.

*A friend of The Kid’s was born the day after, so we had back to back birthday parties, both at the bowling alley, and with both kids in attendance at both parties. It was an adventure. Wheee!

All photos Copyright Ouyang Dan/Brandann R. Hill-Mann

Transgender Day of Rememberance 2009

Yesterday was the 2009 Transgender day of Rememberance in our hemisphere, and it is today in the West.

I am really not good at writing these kinds of posts sometimes, but I want to point to this one by kaninchenzero at FWD/Forward:

I personally am angry. All over the world, in every society, we are there and we are dying. Because we are still seen as less than, as mistakes, as inherently deceptive, as the butt of every cruel man-in-a-dress joke, as freaks. Our genitals are viewed as substandard facsimiles at best, our sexualities are commodified and sold when they are considered at all. We are discriminated against in employment and housing, in immigration and criminal justice, in airplane travel, in language. Our medical needs are routinely denied coverage by insurance providers in the United States — even those needs which would be covered, if the insured were a cis person — and can be difficult to obtain even in countries which provide health care to their citizens. Worst of all we are dying because people feel entitled to kill us. Because we are who we are, there are people who feel we deserve to die.

The whole post is very good, and better than anything I could come up with. Please read it.

Michigan to impost referral law for Acupuncture

From bfp:

Because Michigan can never just leave well enough alone, can it?

I found out from my acupuncturist that the state of Michigan is considering requiring it’s citizens to get a doctor’s referral to go to an acupuncturists. So, in other words, rather than hearing from a friend that she went to acupuncture and that person deciding to give it a try too–Michigan wants to make it so that you have to go to a doctor first, and then, if the doctor is willing to actually give you the referral, you can go to the acupuncturist.

Many people who know about the history of midwives in the U.S. know why this is such an extraordinarily bad idea. But for those who don’t know that history–what this particular requirement would do is first and foremost, place an incredibly unfair burden on those people who don’t have health insurance. Those who are unable to afford a doctor would simply have yet another health alternative option removed from their already limited health arsenal.

If you do nothing else, please sign this petition to help keep this medical option available for people who would lose access to the only health care they afford without insurance.  With Michigan being hit as hard as it has been by this recession and the job loss as high as it is in the state specifically, people are desperate for health care.  Community Acupuncture is one of the few options available to them, and if the requirement is added to get a doctor’s referral, well, without insurance, they will lose that too.


deforest kelley
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This post made possible by a grant from modern science.

Chally from Zero at the Bone has posted the Fifth Carnival of Feminists.  She’s done a wonderful job.  Go show her some love.  Now.  I’ll wait.

Are you back?


Annaham has a piece on objectivity that I think is important if you are trying to grok disability rights and why sometimes it isn’t possible to just look at the science and say “but that’s just how things are”.

Yeah, cuz if you ask science, there is nothing wrong with me, now is there?  HA!

Speaking of Health Care Reform (Oh, was no one talking about that…well I was)…this is one of the better take downs I have seen.  This author both debunks common Conservative lies that I hear from people all the time, and gives a pretty thorough explanation of HR 3200.

Jen Nedeau found a Max shoes ad that I think stinks.

ETA:  How did I forget to include this:  Kate Harding:  Remember: Roman Polanski raped a child.

That’s all I’ve got for now.  I had to deal with some crap while I was trying to finish up my sample pieces, but they are in and now all I need is the positive energy!  Whew!

Take it easy, yo!

Same story…different day…

and different patient.

This could be a page out of my memoir:

This letter was written after a nasty incident with another doctor in my clinic. She gave me all of twenty seconds to explain why I was there before launching into a very loud diatribe about how I was crazy and ruining my life, and she was going to send me to rehab. (If you want that story, it’s highlighted in blue here. The yellow blocks are the purely-necessary background, since the letter is so long.)

That left me with no option but to go to the emergency room to ask for a Vicodin script. The experience was humiliating. Nurses outside my exam room joked to each other “We should put a sign on the door that says ‘We are all out of Vicodin, go somewhere else.’” The doctor who saw me gave me a long and patronizing lecture, telling me that I should be seeing a pain specialist and not having my primary doctor coordinate my care, guilting me for using the stuff at all, with many dramatic sighs and furrowing of the brow.

Before he gave me my prescription, I asked if he had a recommendation for a pain specialist, and he gave me one. I called them up. They requested that I send over my medical records before they would make an appointment, because the doctor sat down to read them for every new patient so that he could establish a customized treatment plan. I did as they requested and two days later, I got a call. His receptionist told me that they were not going to schedule me an appointment, because the doctor said “There’s nothing else we can really do for you” and said to continue doing what I was already doing with my primary doctor.

In other words, I was doing it right.

Only, it was back in Hawai’i, and my regular doctor had been deployed suddenly.  When I went to TRICARE to request a new doctor I was told specifically, by the TRICARE rep, to request a Medical Officer (an O-5 or above) to manage my care, which I did. Then I was told by central appointments when I tried to schedule my initial appointment with the new PCM that Medical Officers were only seen on referral from general practitioners.

Cue the three ring circus.

When I arrived, in pain, and barely able to drive myself, I was force to wait, on a cold, stainless steel examination table with not even a crappy pillow for over an hour while the Chief on call read my record, because he said I was exhibiting all the signs of a drug seeker:  allergic to aspirin and several other routine migraine medications, tylenol wouldn’t work and I couldn’t take toredol because it was akin to aspirin.  Sure, I had used midrin, but it never helped.  And that was just for the headaches, but I was also having unbearable body pain…which was all in my record…and I was here for a vicodin script.

I had been out for about two weeks because of the unforeseen deployment of my old doctor.  Oh, also, GPs don’t hand out Vic scripts to first time patients.  Best I could hope for was a referral to a Medical Officer (really?, cuz, like, he’s not my PCM or anything!) and a script for 800mg Ibuprofen.  Guess how much good that does my pain?  I can swallow a whole bottle of those puppies and it won’t do me any good.

Chronic pain creates obstacles.  Obstacles in your life, physically and socially, and it is literally one of those “you had to be there” things.  A chronic pain patient already more than likely is having hir life criticized by those who used to call themselves hir friends.  People in our lives will think they know better than us how to manage our lives will want to stand back and wag their fingers thinking that all those pills we are popping are for fun or making us useless drones.  Crappy doctors with patronizing tones will make us scared to seek help to the point where we will literally suffer rather than make ourselves vulnerable.

But occasionally we find the good doctor, the one who gets us on the right track, and helps us see that we are doing it right.  Who helps us through the hoops.  The health care professional that talks us through the rainbow of pills and reassures us that we are not weak because we need the pain killers, or reminds us that they could give us a little bit of our lives back.  The partner or friend who takes the time to drive us to appointments or hold us up on the subway or help sort the pills into dosage boxes or smooth our hair when the pain is too much to bear…

Any glitch in that care, any hiccup in the process, though, causes problems of apocalyptic proportions, creating more work…not for our doctors and not for the clusterfuctastrophe of a rat race in quick sand we call our health care system…but for us, the PWD who are just trying to hold on the the high wire act that keeps our lives functioning.  So that we can have jobs and do silly things like shower and hug our kids and feed our cats we suck up the energy we are already lacking and crawl through the hoops.  We drag our tired asses around and play the game and write the letters and get the labs and pay the last dollars…because we have to.  We have to because even though the system and the world is ready to forget us and willing to not see us we are insistent in our desire to exist.  We are audacious in our temerity to take up space in the world of able bodied people and drag ourselves over those hurdles in spite of the condescension of everyone around us who insists that we just have to remain calm and everything will work out OK.

Fuck calm.

These are our lives.

And that is worth expending a little energy.

Dartmouth Inaugurates Dr. Jim Yong Kim

Via Angry Asian Man.

Dr. Kim becomes the 17th President of Dartmouth, and the first Asian American President of an Ivy League school.  He was born in Seoul, South Korea, and raised in Muscatine, Iowa.

“The historical moment in which we live demands that your generation unite — as never before — learning with action, passion with practicality” to address the world’s most pressing challenges, President Kim said. He argued that the liberal arts education they would receive at Dartmouth could uniquely prepare them to do so.

A physician, educator and infectious disease expert, Dr. Kim said it was “deeply humbling for me – the child of Korean immigrants from a small town in Iowa” to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors and lead Dartmouth College.


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