Mad Zoo House

I haven't been cooking with any kind of regularity the last few months, as opposed to the Candace of the Past that would plan the Zoo House meals up to a month in advance and cook a "real" dinner almost every night. But last night I made an old favorite from early on in our marriage:

Pork with Savory Sauce

Source: American Heart Association (Servings: 4)

Sauce:
¾ cup low-sodium chicken broth
¼ cup balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoon port
1 teaspoon olive oil
½ teaspoon coarse black pepper
½ teaspoon dried oregano
1 clove garlic , or 1/2 tsp minced
2 tablespoon cold water
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 pound pork tenderloin

In a small saucepan, combine broth, vinegar, wine, oil, pepper, oregano and garlic. Cook, uncovered, over medium-high heat for 20 minutes or until liquid is reduced to ½ cup.
Pour water into a cup or small bowl. Add cornstarch and stir to dissolve.
Add cornstarch mixture to the sauce, stirring to mix well. Heat over medium heat, stirring until mixture thickens, about 1 minute. Cover, remove from heat and set aside.
Grill pork until no longer pink. Serve with sauce.


Yum. You can trust the American Heart Association, friends. They will not steer you wrong!

Ever get an idea of how many blogs are out there and wonder who the hell all these people are that think every little thing they have to say is so interesting?



More profoundness to come.

You should know that I have much love for Phillip Seymour Hoffman. I seriously adore him. I finally saw Capote the other night. I really thought I wouldn't be able to get into it because of The Voice. But, I was wrong. It was great. Fantastic. I loved PSH and now I want to read more Capote, including In Cold Blood. Am I a sucker for marketing? Probably.

I am reading Russka by Edward Rutherfurd. I typically read his books in the same fashion that I eat any kind of pasta dish - too quickly and never knowing when to stop, staying up far too late to read "just one more chapter." I especially love Sarum and London. Unfortunately I'm having a difficult time keeping up with Russka. I enjoy it, but it's much easier to put down than I'm used to as far as his books go.

Tonight I'm going to watch Transamerica, with Felicity Huffman, whom I have been fond of since Sports Night. I can't wait to see her play a guy trying to be a woman.

All I need now is a good William H. Macy film to complete the triumverate of actors I lurve.

*edited to add that Transamerica was fantastic. The scenes with the main character's family, especially the mom, were painful to watch - it was that well-done.

Have I achieved the Monkey Look? I can't really tell. Though this little guy does crack me up, regardless.

I've never had a green thumb. I know nothing about gardening, plants, flowers, etc. I think I killed a cactus in college. I can basically recognize roses and lillies and then just have to nod in what I hope is an intelligent manner.

But, now I am a homeowner with a good-sized backyard and a front yard to boot! So, I continue to try to evolve and learn. Over the weekend a friend took me to a nursery to pick out some plants to border our new deck. I came home with three lilac bushes. Yesterday I managed to dig a trench big enough for all three. It took several hours. I got blisters on my hands within the first ten minutes (because I am a delicate flower). But, the lilacs are planted! Mostly, I was happy not to unearth any bones or anything. Must stop watching so much CSI.

Also, the mister and I purchased an orchid from Trader Joe's over the weekend. So we're going on Day 4 and I haven't killed that sucker yet. It's a whole new Candace, people!

After crocheting for over a decade, I have only recently taught myself to read a crochet pattern. Having celebrated some small successes in this area, I decided to take on creating my own patterns.

This stuffed animal was supposed to be a monkey.

Poor little sad non-monkey. Is it the small ears? The lack of human-looking hands? The shortish arms? I'm not sure. But I am sure that it does not look like a monkey. Ah well. Progress, not perfection.


*This little guy's look has been updated since this photo shoot. He now has the pointy ears of a feline and will be marketed as a soft purple kitty.

Buy my crap! www.cozyyarns.etsy.com

We have 4 cats, 2 dogs, and approximately 30 fish. Fortunately, only two pets are of the psycho variety, otherwise I'm sure I would have made the headlines by now.

Boris, our 3ish year old lab mix, is what we call "hyper" (read: "intense") though he really just is too smart for his own good. He needs to be someone's hunting dog or maybe sent to University to solve difficult math equations. His mind is just always going. I can't believe he doesn't have insomnia. Or an ulcer.

Our morning ritual consists of whining, going out for potty, whining, breakfast, whining and dramatic sighing, a kong stuffed with kibble, frozen peas & carrots and lots of peanut butter, whining, sighing, and wiggling, a final trip outside for potty, then an hour or so of alternately lying down, wiggling, frantically looking around, and, of course, the glue that keeps Boris who he is - the whining. Have I mentioned Boris whines?

It's slightly more pronounced on weekend mornings because El Fyd (my husband) is still asleep upstairs and Boris wants to be up there. Boris (and Vinnie, his lazy counterpart) are kept downstairs by a dog gate held together with duct tape and sheer will power (after several occurrences of dogs and cats attempting to jump over it) in the hopes of giving the cats their own dog-free comfort zone upstairs. Boris doesn't like to be out of the loop, and therefore is very upset at not having free reign to run upstairs and stare intently at the cats whenever he wants.

Doesn't he look angelic?


A related sidebar is now we are those people who say "potty." We don't have children, but we are surely close to being "those people" who talk about pee and poop almost as much as parents of babies and toddlers do. I'm proud.