She's Still Got Game

Memorial Weekend Report:

It would be boring and redundant to the extreme to explain my lack of posting (again), so I won't. Despite the cleaning, organizing and packing we managed to eek out an above average Memorial Day Weekend. The first thing I did was ship my teenage fashionista off with 2 friends for a much anticipated trip to Chicago. They invaded the Chi-town triplets pimp pad and got to try on some independence for size.

Amtrak train to Chicago

She has not produced any photographic evidence of the trip as of yet. I even inspected her for a tramp stamp and found her to be freshly tatoo-less. Her siblings swear that everyone was reasonably well behaved, nothing got broken and no one starved. She did have some crazy blisters along with a small bag of fashions she just had to purchase while on holiday, on her own without her mother declaring them a wee bit too skanky. They were within the determined budget and cute (the clothes not the blisters).

I did manage, in her absence to get my Bobby Flay on with Cubana-style Burgers. Nothing exotic about the burger itself. It was wrapped up in some cool add-ons, pressed until the bun was crispy and the cheese all melty. The most strenuous part was roasting the garlic ahead of time to make some flavored mayonnaise.

Is that big enough for you?

Inside the pressed and grilled bun was a simply cooked ground round patty resting on top of home made garlic mayo, Dijon, Swiss cheese, a slice of ham and some sliced dill pickles. It is definitely going into the Sasstown recipe keeper file. We washed these bad boys down with the recommended Mango Batidos which were little Cuban style milkshakes made with fresh mango, vanilla ice cream, mango sorbet and some milk.

Does anyone know if Bobby Flay is married cause I think I may have a crush? Considering I also celebrated my wedding anniversary this week it would be bad form for me to continue on that note and let me say I don't have any interest in breaking a new man in, ever. But I do have an available gorgeous  pastry chef daughter who would be a perfect compliment to the Flaymiester.

To balance out the good food I got my share of activity in at my cousins annual Memorial BBQ. We drove out to the country with my famous Feta dip and (I'm so ashamed) a store bought Lemon Meringue pie. The dip was good, the pie was not. As we've gotten older we've had to tame down our family sporting events so we got out the bats and balls for a resounding game of...Whiffle Ball.

Raymondo demonstrated how it's done

...but the Mayor can still bat

Girls 32- Boys 9

The Ump

Even though the umpire was a little bitch who clearly favored the guys, we whooped 'em good. It's quite surprising how sore one can get playing a couple hours of Whiffle Ball, but it was a good kind of sore topped off by a few mosquito bites.

What could top off a game like this you ask? Well, how about my favorite new summer cocktail? My same food consumption philosophy applies to beverages. If you don't love it, don't eat or drink it. It has to be really good to earn it's way onto my thighs.

Blackberry Summer Cocktail

From the Southern Living June 2010 issue, this refreshing little cockatu that began in a glass pitcher. I threw in blackberries and muddled them, added sliced cucumbers, fresh squeezed lime juice, simple syrup, 1 cup of Gin, 1 cup of Club Soda and some mint sprigs. I usually say this about once a season, but I think Mama's got a new drink.

Throw Baby From The Train

For the last week or so I’ve pleaded with the Prince to come home on the train to help me with my garage storage project. I won’t bore you with the details of that but I miss my work buddy since he moved to Chicago. We have always been able to work companionably finding humor and fun even while slaving away on the most frustrating projects. A few days ago he let me know he had a window of time available and he was going to jump on the 6 p.m. Amtrak and lend me his muscle and brawn for a couple days.

Keep in mind that the Prince gets bored very easily (wonder where he got that from?) The boy knows how to pack for the train ride. Computer...check, sandwich...check, water bottles...check, snacks...check, emergency adult beverage (in case there’s unforeseen challenges or delays)...check. This is the text conversation we had about an hour after the train left the station:

PRINCE: Good thing I brought something to drink, I’m sitting next to a crying baby that might just fly off the train.

So I’m thinking, the Prince does seem to attract the crying babies when he travels. What was the name of that movie with Billy Crystal and Danny DeVito about? Throw Momma Off The Train? He won’t get that reference. What would a normal mother say?

MAYOR: Please don’t throw the baby off of the train.

PRINCE: Then I’m throwing mom off of the train. Isn’t that the name of a movie?

MAYOR: I almost said that last time I texted you! Didn’t think you would remember that. Obviously, you inherited your wit from me.

Hours go by....

MAYOR: Have you gotten any peace yet? Hopefully the baby fell asleep.

PRINCE: Death to crying babies.

MAYOR: At least it’s not YOUR baby.

Another hour.....

MAYOR: As a consolation all of your sheets and blankies have been laundered.

The Prince holding his first baby sister (8 hours old).

Don’t get upset about the dark humor. The Prince is the only male among my offspring and is second born. He’s lived with 4 younger sisters (he was 14 when his youngest sister was born).

It’s not hyperbole when I say he’s paid his dues when it comes to babies, babysitting, helping sisters with homework, checking out sister’s boyfriends, listening to all sorts of female travail. One day he will make a good husband and I think a good father. It’s not that he doesn’t like babies, he’s just had his fill of them.

Back in the day he was a great big brother and has met that challenge of satisfying a toddler on an airplane flight or road trip more than once. Suffice it to say that those 3 last babies used up every bit of his patience (and mine) so I am not surprised at his current aversion to babies.

I kind of like it even, I don’t have to worry that he’ll (or any of my first 4 children) will ever get caught up in some girl’s romantic notion of the magic of babies. Caring for a herd of young siblings and their noisy little friends was probably the best sex education/birth control lesson anyone could have etched in their memory.

The Prince trying to prove how much he doesn't like babies while holding Godson Liam.

The Prince failing to convince Godson Liam that he hates babies.