Mo Betta Blogs
Not working today. But Gee's girlfriend, Elena (very good people), is in town this week, so I can't just prop myself in his room and blog for eight hours...which, I guess, is a good thing. This way, this post will be long, but irritatingly long.
Two things on my mind this morning...
-- I taught Gee how to make chicken parmesian last night. Gee, if you can remember from I'm Not a Short Order Cook, Gerald is the dude that has the picky and annoyingly random eating habits of a seven-year-old boy with ADD. The guy that hates tomatoes and ketchup, but eats spaghetti 321 days out of the year. But the thing is, he makes an ill spaghetti sauce. He's not the greatest cook, but what he does cook, he cooks well.
Well a couple years ago my lil sis was in town and I threw a lil dinner party for the crew and I prepared some chicken parm. As my godfather, Emeril, says: "I kicked it up a notch". Like a true fat person, I did it big, I stacked the chicken cutlets and sandwiched three cheeses in between each stack. It turned out well. No one was able to finish the jabba-like portions I served, besides Gee, who hasn't gained weight since he was 12 even though he gorges -- huge mounds of spaghetti, 3-4 tuna sandwiches stacked like the Dagwood comic. Since then he said he wanted to learn how to make it.
So we set up shop yesterday evening and he did a magnificent job. It took us a while, but it turned out delicious and I think homeboy deserves some kudos.
Charles, of course, sat down like an ungrateful husband and gave us a laundry list of problems with the dish. Which is fairly hilarious since Chuck, if you remember from the Short Order Cook blog, is the man that put adobo on a turkey sandwhich and once asked me no fewer then 10 questions about how to cook an italian sausage on the stove top.
One things for sure: although I already know I'm gonna miss my niggas here in the Strict and I welcome, with all my might, finally living alone again -- Chuck and Gee as landlords has produced some classic moments. Maybe not Rich McKay moments (my landlord in Orlando), but classic nonethless.
-- This brings me to the second thing I've been pondering this morning. Florida real-estate is DUMB cheap. Especially when you get away from the city. I'm gonna be in Florida tomorrow-Friday looking at some places to stay and my research tells me that I'll be able to rent a 2-bedroom, 2-bath, one-car garage crib for $700 or less. WTF?! That's insane. $700 gets you a crumby studio with roaches and rats here in Strict metro-area.
But the thought of having a crib, not an apartment is rather exciting. I'll have a yard to barbeque in. A nice-size kitchen to cook in. A second room that'll be my office/guest room. I'll miss the city and would much rather pay the extra dough and live in Tampa, but I'm somewhat looking forward to the change of pace and, more particularly, the change of space.
Two things on my mind this morning...
-- I taught Gee how to make chicken parmesian last night. Gee, if you can remember from I'm Not a Short Order Cook, Gerald is the dude that has the picky and annoyingly random eating habits of a seven-year-old boy with ADD. The guy that hates tomatoes and ketchup, but eats spaghetti 321 days out of the year. But the thing is, he makes an ill spaghetti sauce. He's not the greatest cook, but what he does cook, he cooks well.
Well a couple years ago my lil sis was in town and I threw a lil dinner party for the crew and I prepared some chicken parm. As my godfather, Emeril, says: "I kicked it up a notch". Like a true fat person, I did it big, I stacked the chicken cutlets and sandwiched three cheeses in between each stack. It turned out well. No one was able to finish the jabba-like portions I served, besides Gee, who hasn't gained weight since he was 12 even though he gorges -- huge mounds of spaghetti, 3-4 tuna sandwiches stacked like the Dagwood comic. Since then he said he wanted to learn how to make it.
So we set up shop yesterday evening and he did a magnificent job. It took us a while, but it turned out delicious and I think homeboy deserves some kudos.
Charles, of course, sat down like an ungrateful husband and gave us a laundry list of problems with the dish. Which is fairly hilarious since Chuck, if you remember from the Short Order Cook blog, is the man that put adobo on a turkey sandwhich and once asked me no fewer then 10 questions about how to cook an italian sausage on the stove top.
One things for sure: although I already know I'm gonna miss my niggas here in the Strict and I welcome, with all my might, finally living alone again -- Chuck and Gee as landlords has produced some classic moments. Maybe not Rich McKay moments (my landlord in Orlando), but classic nonethless.
-- This brings me to the second thing I've been pondering this morning. Florida real-estate is DUMB cheap. Especially when you get away from the city. I'm gonna be in Florida tomorrow-Friday looking at some places to stay and my research tells me that I'll be able to rent a 2-bedroom, 2-bath, one-car garage crib for $700 or less. WTF?! That's insane. $700 gets you a crumby studio with roaches and rats here in Strict metro-area.
But the thought of having a crib, not an apartment is rather exciting. I'll have a yard to barbeque in. A nice-size kitchen to cook in. A second room that'll be my office/guest room. I'll miss the city and would much rather pay the extra dough and live in Tampa, but I'm somewhat looking forward to the change of pace and, more particularly, the change of space.
posted by Twistinado @ 11:56 AM
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