King Phillip Came Over For Guinness Stout

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung up his fedora, and called out, "what's for supper, danny boy?"

"hot dogs," danny blake replied as he poured a beer.

"just hot dogs?" cardigan sounded disappointed as he took the beer.

"okay, spicy mango-pineapple hot dogs, to be precise."

"now you're talking.  i'll take two to start," cardigan grinned.

sierra charles pushed an empty stool toward cardigan.  "cop a squat, cardigan, and tell us about your day."

"i'm investigating the background of a duck hunter who wrecked his truck coming back from a hunt," the private investigator told them.  "a pediatrician was driving by and stopped to provide medical care.  the hunter was unharmed but his dog couldn't breathe, so the pediatrician performed an emergency tracheotomy."

"did the dog live?" Mysterious Lurker asked anxiously, reaching down to scratch monte the pub dog behind the ears."

cardigan took a swig of beer and nodded.  "yes, the doctor saved his life.  however, he can't bark anymore, which makes him useless for duck hunting.  so, the hunter is suing the doctor for malpractice."

"that's not right!" marian elfman exlaimed.  "i hope a duck sues the hunter for...for malhunting!"

danny chuckled as he delivered the hot dogs.  "there's probably a lawyer already working on that."

cardigan nodded.  "no doubt.  thanks, danny.  these look great."  he took a bite then continued.  "so i'm helping the doctor's lawyer build a case that the hunter is an unfit master for the dog."

"good for you, cardigan!" sierra punched him on the shoulder.

monte woofed and wagged his tail.

tucker strummed an A-minor chord and began singing:

they say it's a dog's life
what's that really mean?
lots of bones and frisbees
not a drop of listerine
i don't dream of rabbits
i don't bite the mailman's leg
you'll never catch me howling
and i won't sit up and beg
  i'm a dog
  i'm a dog
  if you think you understand my life
  your brain is full of fog
  i'm a dog
  i'm a dog
  just because you scoop my poop don't
  mean you know the real scoop
  i'm a dog

linda nulo applauded her boyfriend.  "i like that one, honey!  but i thought you were a cat person?"

"mother tucker is a dog person so i've been around dogs all my life," tucker explained, oblivious to the giggling inspired by this explanation as he continued:

they say i've got nine lives
how do they know that?
did they live the life of every
other once-live cat
you feed me friskies beef stew
i just wonder how
nobody ever thought to make
mouse-flavored kitten chow
  i'm a cat
  i'm a cat
  if you think you understand my life
  your brain is full of crap
  i'm a cat
  i'm a cat
  when i'm away, the mice will play
  but you're away today
  i'm a cat

"that's true," gavin observed.  "cats don't eat cows and sheep.  cat food should be mouse-flavored, or sparrow-flavored, not beef- or lamb-flavored."

"ewww," marian wrinkled her nose.  "that's gross."

"what about the ducks?" the Lurker asked.  "do you have a verse for them, too?"

"water off a duck's back"
that's what people say
when all their petty problems
just up and fall away
we don't deal with politics or
economic slumps
we don't get prescriptions filled
when we're down in the dumps
  i'm a duck
  i'm a duck
  if you think you understand my life
  you brain is full of muck
  i'm a duck
  i'm a duck
  i walk like one, i quack like one,
  i take to water like one
  i'm a duck

"you know what i've always wondered?" sierra wondered out loud.  "if you call a female duck a duck and male duck a drake, shouldn't donald and daffy be known as donald drake and daffy drake?"

"and why do they both have speech impediments?" the Lurker put in.  "that seems rather...racist, doesn't it?"

"ducks aren't another race," marian noted.  "there another species, genus, order, and class altogether.  you should say orderist or classist instead of racist."

"i would have thought classist would describe discrimination based on social class rather than on class within the animal kingdom," taylor mused.  "how about keeping it simple and just saying duckist?"

"i miss conversations like this," caridgan muttered as he drained his beer.

"really?" shakespeare asked as he bussed the tables.

"no."

Blueberry & Peach Schnapps Pound Cake

this recipe actually calls for raspberries and kirsch, but i didn't like how the raspberries looked at the store so i got blueberries, instead.  and, i don't have any kirsch, so i used peach schnapps as peach & blueberries are a nice match.  it's really good; better than the raspberry version (i've made that before).  it's moist; not very sweet; and lighter than 2½ sticks of butter & 5 eggs might suggest.  worth doing again, even though i'm a pie person  ;)

Cold Sesame Noodles

it's miserably hot.  so, i decided i wanted cold sesame noodles.  there are a hundred different recipes for this; search for any and adapt to your liking.  i adapted this from the recipe in tyler florence's Tyler's Ultimate cookbook (i sauteed some ginger and garlic in chili oil, then pureed it in a blender with some peanut butter,sesame oil, soy sauce, rice vinegar, thai red chili paste, soy sauce, rice venegar, and hot water, then refrigerated the mixture while i boiled the noodles and sliced some red & orange pepper and green onions, chopped some cilantro, and toasted some black & white sesame seeds.  i rinsed the cooked noodles in cold water, drained well, tossed with sesame oil, then tossed all my ingredients together in a large bowl with the refrigerated dressing).  he serves this with a seared duck breast and grilled peaches, and that's probably outrageously good.  this noodles are good served with most any protein, hot or cold: shrimp, pork, chicken, tofu, and duck would all be good, though my preference would probably be some thinly sliced medium-rare grilled flank steak.  however, this stuff is good enough on it's own without a protein.  a good helping of this and a wedge of watermelon and a glass of limeade would be about as good a summer meal as there is, i think.

Caprese Salad-stuffed Profiteroles

this recipe is from the book Savory Baking.  most people know profiteroles as cream puffs, filled with a sweet creamy custard and topped with a chocolate sauce or glaze.  this is an unusual but tasty variation that has potential for other uses.  the pastry (made with a boiled batter, which is then cooled and enriched with eggs) takes on a savory characteristic with the addition of dried basil and shredded mozzarella.  after they've baked and cooled, you cut them open and filled them with your version of caprese salad (fresh tomato, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella, extra virgin olive oil, s&p), and bob's your uncle!  this can be a fancy appetizer, or a size dish, or a nice lunch.  these puffs could also be used to make other appetizer sandwiches ranging from simple ham to egg salad or caponata or caramelized onions & anchovies or whatever you can think of.

Macerated Strawberries

(from a couple of nights ago)   there are some fruits that i enjoy more when they are used as an ingredient (i prefer apple pies to apples, and wine to grapes).  strawberries, though, i prefer on their own, or minimally treated.  that's what these strawberries are.  sliced and tossed with a little sugar, honey, and balsamic vinegar.  let it sit for a bit for the juices to loosen up, then tossed them again in the silky syrup that has now formed in the bottom of the bowl.  i could eat several bowlfuls of it.

Roasted Cauliflower & Poblano Soup

(from a few nights ago) this is from bobby flay's Mesa Grill Cookbook.  i like roasted cauliflower; i like creamy soups; i like roasted poblanos.  this sound like a great soup!  and it was good, but i'll say it wasn't great.  flay suggested garnishing this soup with a goat-cheese topped blue corn tortilla chip that had been placed under the broiler to make a nacho.  i decided to improve the iron chef's recipe (yes, i said it!) by roasting some extra cauliflower separately and sprinkling it onto the pureed soup as well, for some more interesting texture.  my addition?  added a lot.  the iron chef's nacho?  didn't work, in my opinion.  i agree with adding some crunch factor to this soup, but i thought the goat cheese detracted from rather than added to the soup's flavor (and i love goat cheese).  i love the roasted poblano in this, though.  this is worth making again with a different kind of crunch (croutons or fried tortilla chips or something).  and bacon, of course.  it could definitely be improved with bacon.

The Bird Is The Word, Part The Second

((if you haven't read Part the First, read this chapter first))

"so, hep.  has anybody figured it out yet?" burkie asked his special assistant.

"no," s.a. hepzibah told him.  "AND DON'T CALL ME HEP!!!"

"looks like your readership of five may have shrunk even fewer, burkie," cardigan smirked.

burkie fixed his disagreeable protagonist with a stare.  "without readers, there's no blog.  with no blog, there's no cardigan."

"um...perhaps they're on summer vacation," cardigan suggested meekly.

"or busy with summer activities," sierra put in hastily.

"we can figure this out ourselves," marian stated confidently.  "let's look at the first clue again!"

Mr. Monotone: oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?

"honey, didn't you say you know something about this?"  linda asked her boyfriend, tucker.

the folksinger nodded.  "The Monotones had a song in the '50s called The Book of Love.  the bird quotes the signature line, but in the original they only said wonder twice.  this bird says it, what, seven times?"

marian typed s-e-v-e-n  w-o-n-d-e-r-s  into her laptop then yelped.   "oh! oh! oh!  seven wonders!  the seven wonders of the ancient world!" 

"very good, marian!"  sierra told her.

after a short victory dance in her seat and a thank you to tucker for the assist, marian brought forward the next clue:

Winston Churchill: what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?

"taylor," burkie turned toward to clumsy vampire-wannabe.  "you're supposed to be british.  what does that mean?"

"cor blimey, i don't know," taylor ran his fingers through his hair.  "except that an englishman would call it a torch, not a flashlight."

"that's true," cardigan looked impressed.  "that might be it, taylor.  what's the next clue, marian?"

Hannah Graham: sure, i know that song. old bar hit.

"i've never heard of Hannah Graham.  who is she?"  s.a. hepzibah asked.

sierra snapped her fingers.  "anagram!  Hannah Graham sounds like anagram!  we need to figure out an anagram for 'old bar hit."

"bridal hot!"

"broad hilt!"

"loath bird!"

"bart hold i!"

marian typed in all the possibilities.  "okay, next!"

Bertrand Russell: this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!

"the first part of that is an actual bertrand russell quote,"  foxy noted.  "the original runs thus: This is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must learn not to be frightened by absurdities."

"so what's all that about the village of great neck?" taylor wondered.

"easy," said cardigan.  "the bird used the word zip.  marian, what's the zip code for the village of great neck?"

marian ran a query on her laptop.  "11023."

"but notice how the bird emphasizes the word patently," mr. franklin pointed out.  "do you think that's important?"

"maybe 11023 is a patent number," danny suggested.

"you're doing well, guys," burkie nodded.  "i'm proud of ya!  what's next, marian?"

Robert Downey, Jr.: i know what dude i am. i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude.

"that's from the movie Tropic Thunder," taylor reminded them.  "ducky, what was the name of downy's character in that movie?"

"kirk lazarus," marian typed it in.  "okay, last one!" 

Joan Dunn: it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it.

"no man can handle it," judge st. bishop mused.  "no man...no man...no man is an island.  isn't that a john donne quote?  it has a metaphysical feel to it."

"and john donne sounds like joan dunn," hepzibah pointed out.  "so...a woman is an island?"

"spell it all out for us, marian" burkie ordered.

"yes, sir!"

Seven Wonders
Torch
Bart Hold I
Patent 11023
Lazarus
Island

they all looked at each other and groaned.  "of course!  how stupid are we!"

"here it is," marian pulled the poem up on her laptop.  "let's all read it together now, quickly!"

they all read the poem out loud together.  as soon as they were done, the Mysterious Lurker popped in.

"about time!" she muttered.  "but thank you!  it really is a poor poem, you know.  am i allowed to say that?"

"you are uniquely qualified to say that," danny assured her as her gave her a quick hug.  "come on, i'll fix you some tea."

"great job, everyone!  high five!" burkie put his hand out toward marian and pulled it away just as she extended hers.

"psych!"

words cannot described the face that marian made at this gesture.

The Bird Is The Word, Part The First

gavin cardigan walked into Poor Yorick's Pub, hung his fedora on a peg, and said hello to his buddy danny blake behind the bar.

"hello yourself," danny replied as he poured a beer and handed it to cardigan.  "i'm serving totchos tonight.  interested?"

"if you're making 'em, i'm eating 'em, but what the hell are totchos?"

"nachos made with tater tots instead of tortilla chips," danny explained with a grin.

"pure genius," cardigan raised his glass in praise.  "bring 'em on!"

cardigan took his beer back to his customary table to join his friends and stopped short.  "um, whose bird?"

the bird, which appeared to be a brightly colored parrot, looked at cardigan and squawked, "oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?"

cardigan looked at the others, raising an eyebrow.

"it just appeared here," taylor young explained with a shrug.  "a tag on the cage said 'Mr. Monotone.'"

"he stutters.  who ever heard of a stuttering parrot?"

"i have," came an authoritative voice behind them.  cardigan groaned as their handsome creator approached.

"burkie, is this your parrot?"  sierra charles asked.

"i'm afraid not," burkie shook his head.  "i think he was sent by my arch nemesis."

"you have an arch nemesis?"  danny sounded dubious as he delivered cardigan's totchos. "why?"

"yes, his name is archibald knemesis," burkie told them as he plucked a tater tot off of the plate.

"of course it is," cardigan muttered as he moved his plate out of burkie's reach, only to have sierra snag another tot.

"he sent me an email saying that he has trapped the Lurker," burkie told them.

"what?!" marian exclaimed.  "where?  we have to rescue her!"

"don't worry," burkie said calmly.  "like all arch nemesises...nemeses..nemesii...villains, knemesis goes to complicated extremes to show off how clever he is, which will always be his downfall.  now, he explained that the only way to release the Lurker is for all of us to read where she's trapped at the same time."

"but where's she trapped?"  danny sounded worried, despite burkie's confidence.

"knemesis said it might be a book, a play, a poem, or a song, but six blasts from my past would lead us to her."  burkie pointed at the parrot.  "and there is the first blast."

"a stuttering parrot?"

burkie nodded.  "knemesis must know that one of my favorite books ever is The Mystery of the Stuttering Parrot, book 2 in The Three Investigators series.  if i'm right, there will be more parrots."

as if on cue, judge st. bishop walked in carrying a bird cage with a grey bird inside.  "hey, what's going on here?  i was sent this bird and told to come here."

"does he say anything?" danny asked.

the bird himself replied.  "what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?"

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" cardigan wondered.

the judge shrugged.  "beats me.  the tag on the cage says Winston Churchill."

tucker and linda nulo walked in next, carrying another cage.

"does that bird say anything?" sierra asked before they could say anything.

they nodded and the bird spoke:  "sure, i know that song.  old bar hit."

marian was typing the words into her laptop.  "what's the bird's name?"

"Hannah Graham," linda told her.  "what's this all about?"

"Mysterious Lurker has been kidnapped...er, lurknapped," taylor tried to explain.

"that's three birds," cardigan noted and looked toward the door.  "foxy!"

sierra's sister walked in with another cage.  "hey, guys.  somebody delivered this bird--"

"we know," sierra told her.  "burkie's arch nemesis had the Lurker trapped and the birds have clues to help us rescue her.  what does your bird say?"

"this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!" the bird told them.

"weird," cardigan murmured.  "but at least it mentioned a place; that gives us something to work on.  what's the bird's name, foxy?"

"Bertrand Russell."

"that's the second brit, counting Winston Churchill," sierra pointed out.  "i wonder if that means anything?"

"i don't know," marian shook her head.  "i've never heard of a Hannah Graham or Mr. Monotone before."

"Mr. Monotone is a reference to--"  tucker started to explain but was interrupted by the entrance of founding father benjamin franklin, carrying a cage with a black mynah bird inside.

"the most extraordinary thing has happened!" mr. franklin told them.  "i was given this bird and a note to come here.  just listen to him talk!"

"i know what dude i am.  i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude," the bird exclaimed.

"i've heard that before!" taylor said excitedly.  "roberty downy, jr. said that in that movie where he was playing an australian actor who was playing a black man in a movie."

cardigan looked pained.  "as if this thing wasn't confusing enough as it is."

mr. franklin nodded.  "that's the name on the cage--Robert Downey, Jr."

"that leaves only one bird," marian observed.  "i wonder who has it?"

they all looked toward the door and, sure enough, somebody walked in carrying a bird cage.  it was special assistant hepzibah, burkie's special assistant.

"hepzibah, thank goodness you're here," burkie told her.  "what's your bird's name and what does he say?"

"it's not a he, it's a she of the species," hepzibah explained.  "her name is Joan Dunn."

the bird shook her wings and said, "it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it."

sierra snorted.  "that doesn't narrow it down much at all."

marian snickered.  "you snorted!"

sierra glared at burkie.  "i don't snort, burkie!  change that, now!"

burkie glowered.  "we don't have time for that, sierra.  we have to find the Lurker.  marian, list all the clues again for us."

Mr. Monotone:  oh, i wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder-wonder who-who-who-who who wrote the book of love?
Winston Churchill:  what's a bloody englishman doing with a bloody flashlight?
Hannah Graham:  sure, i know that song.  old bar hit.
Bertrand Russell:  this is patently absurd; but whoever wishes to become a philosopher must zip over to the village of great neck!
Robert Downey, Jr.:  i know what dude i am.  i'm the dude playing the dude disguised as another dude.
Joan Dunn:  it takes a woman to be one of these; no man can handle it.

"right.  now, these clues are supposed to tell us where the Lurker is stuck.  any ideas?  anybody?"  burkie looked around but nobody had anything to offer.

"okay, let's ask for help," burkie decided.  "dear readers, if you know where the Lurker is trapped, please email me at burkie47 -at- gmail -dot- com.  if you can tell me what each clue means and the book or song or play or poem in which the Lurker is trapped, you'll win something.  okay?  thanks for your help, and happy solving!  oh, and don't leave any spoilers in the comments!"

小笼包 (Shanghai Soup Dumplings)

this is an intimidating dish.  i mean, dumplings with the soup inside the dumplings...huh?  but thanks to andrea nguyen's Asian Dumplings, i learned that these aren't as intimidating as i thought!  the secret is you gelatinize the broth, chop it up, then mix it into the meat mixture before filling the skins and steaming.  my dumplings look awful; i'm the first to admit.  this was my first attempt at filling satchel-type dumplings.  obviously, i need to make more to perfect the technique!  they were much tastier than they looked, i assure you.  fabulous, even!  so much so, they inspired me to write this poem:

道可道
非常道
小笼包
非常好!