I have discovered one feature of that takes the Instant Pot from "Yet another gadget cluttering the kitchen" to Awesome Device: the ability to pull the meat out of the soupy sauce and hit "saute" to reduce it down.
The downfall of the slow cooker is that it often leaves dishes far soupier than I want - especially when I don't want to serve them on couscous, crackers, biscuits, or rice. This doesn't quite eliminate that, but it goes a long way to correcting it without the danger inherent in pouring hot liquid from one vessel to another, and back!
This is first pass at adapting a dish to the new device, making it simple enough I can cook it on a day when I don't have the time, patience, or pain tolerance for 3 hours in the kitchen attending simmering dishes.
Chicken Kedra with Almonds and Onions (Instant Pot)
1 can chickpeas, drained
1 cup blanched almond slivers
2 pounds chicken thighs, thawed
1 cup warm water
1 pinch saffron threads
1/2 Tablespoon chicken better than bullion
1 teaspoon white pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 large cinnamon stick
1/4 teaspoon ground tumeric
2 Tablespoons ghee or butter
2 large onions
1/4 cup chopped flat parsley
Juice of 1 lemon, or to taste
Drop the saffron threads in the warm water and let them soak while prepping everything else.
Toss ghee (or butter if you don't have any) in the Instant pot. Add the ground spices, and cinnamon stick.
Pull out the food processor. Turn one onion into tiny grated near-paste. Leave the lid on! Or, if you hate your tear ducts, grate the onion. Chop the second onion into thin slivers.
Turn on the Instant Pot to saute. Stir spices and ghee, so they can heat a little. Add grated onion and bullion to pot, stir.
Wait a moment, then add chicken. You can let sit on saute for a couple minutes while everything blends a little.
Turn off saute, and add chickpeas, saffron water, and slivered onion on top of the chicken.
Put lid on, seal vent, and set to high for 10 minutes.
Let release pressure naturally for 10 minutes, then pull lid off. If too soupy for you, pull out chicken, and hit saute to reduce down to a thick sauce.
When at the correct for you thickness, add in the parsley and lemon juice, and turn off the heat. Add chicken back in, stir, and serve.
Monday, August 31, 2020
Thursday, July 30, 2020
Two months late and two thousand words over...
Some time ago, I wasn't paying enough attention and got voluntold into an anthology for the North Texas Writers, Shooters, and Pilots Association. As in, by the time I looked up from the food to figure out why I'd been mentioned, I was already in. Oops.
I warned the people involved that this was a bad idea; I had two books out and was working on a third, and had no idea how to write a short story. I told them not to expect anything from me. I flat out stated I was finishing the third book first!
It didn't get me out of it. Friends have these unreasoning expectations and somehow we find ourselves trying to live up to them...
So, several months, three how-to books on shorts, quite a few anthologies read, and four false-starts later... (Those ended up being chunks of novels that went nowhere or were discarded because they weren't the short story I wanted. Look, I haven't even figured out sequels yet, and those are still novel length! (As for those 4 starts, they're in the scraps folder. Someday, I may figure them out and be able to revise and finish. I want to; one's arid-land farming in alien ruins, and the things that farmers know but never talk to archaeologists or town clowns about.))
The deadline blew past like the air force boys overhead in T-38's practicing low-level formation flight. And to be honest, the frustration at being unable to figure this out was not nearly as bad as the feeling that I'd let the guys down.
Due to... well, mainly a lot of things blowing up and going stupid in a lot of people's lives, which we've all been suffering this year, the anthology was delayed. Jim Curtis gave me this look over food and informed me I wasn't off the hook; he still expected me to rise to the challenge.
In a fit of pure frustration, I gave up and started writing the next thing that came to mind. I thought it was another novel. And then I realized that it may be a novel's worth of worldbuilding, because my brain can't stop thinking through economics and the intersections of culture, technology, and humanity. But the story itself, set in all that? It doesn't care about the two-front war and how strange and imprecise front lines will get when there's all of space with its many uninhabitable star systems that no one cares about. It only concerns two people with nearly diametrically opposed goals and cultures.
In fact, it came out as a novelette. (When's the last time you heard that word?) At almost 13K words, it was a little too long for a short story, and a little to short for a novella. Way too short for a novel.
I wasn't certain I'd gotten it right, even though my brain said it was finished and nothing more was going to happen. So, I chopped a couple scenes and got it down to down to 12.3K. Then I sent it out to alpha readers, saying "Is this a complete story or the first few chapters of something?"
Based on feedback, it is a complete story arc that needed a little editing to clarify the ending, though half my betas liked as is, and half want it expanded into a novel. Jim was still waiting patiently for a short, so I eyed it with the intent of editing out 2.3K words, and hey, I'd have a short story!
Besides, as my darling man pointed out, expanding short stories into novels later is a long and glorious pulp tradition, so there was no reason not to do both. I may have given him the hairy eyeball and grumped that the backbrain was supremely uninterested in doing that, and besides, not only have I still not figured out sequels, I also missed figuring out a short by over two thousand words, and he expects me to pick up yet another skill set I don't have?
Being my husband, he smiled, and offered crème brulee and black rifle coffee. I forgive him everything!
I rewrote the story, especially the ending, cut out a lot more, and explained a little more here, added a character interaction there because it'd work better than an infodump, and... it went from 12.3K words to 12.5K
This was not the direction toward the 10K word cutoff for the anthology I wanted.
Jim Curtis took it anyway.
So in a few months, y'all may get to enjoy a not-so-short story of a spice and tea trader doing business in the colony world equivalent of modern-day Afghanistan, her extended family whose plans to take care of her are anything but helpful, and the soldier who intentionally gets himself caught in the middle...
I warned the people involved that this was a bad idea; I had two books out and was working on a third, and had no idea how to write a short story. I told them not to expect anything from me. I flat out stated I was finishing the third book first!
It didn't get me out of it. Friends have these unreasoning expectations and somehow we find ourselves trying to live up to them...
So, several months, three how-to books on shorts, quite a few anthologies read, and four false-starts later... (Those ended up being chunks of novels that went nowhere or were discarded because they weren't the short story I wanted. Look, I haven't even figured out sequels yet, and those are still novel length! (As for those 4 starts, they're in the scraps folder. Someday, I may figure them out and be able to revise and finish. I want to; one's arid-land farming in alien ruins, and the things that farmers know but never talk to archaeologists or town clowns about.))
The deadline blew past like the air force boys overhead in T-38's practicing low-level formation flight. And to be honest, the frustration at being unable to figure this out was not nearly as bad as the feeling that I'd let the guys down.
Due to... well, mainly a lot of things blowing up and going stupid in a lot of people's lives, which we've all been suffering this year, the anthology was delayed. Jim Curtis gave me this look over food and informed me I wasn't off the hook; he still expected me to rise to the challenge.
In a fit of pure frustration, I gave up and started writing the next thing that came to mind. I thought it was another novel. And then I realized that it may be a novel's worth of worldbuilding, because my brain can't stop thinking through economics and the intersections of culture, technology, and humanity. But the story itself, set in all that? It doesn't care about the two-front war and how strange and imprecise front lines will get when there's all of space with its many uninhabitable star systems that no one cares about. It only concerns two people with nearly diametrically opposed goals and cultures.
In fact, it came out as a novelette. (When's the last time you heard that word?) At almost 13K words, it was a little too long for a short story, and a little to short for a novella. Way too short for a novel.
I wasn't certain I'd gotten it right, even though my brain said it was finished and nothing more was going to happen. So, I chopped a couple scenes and got it down to down to 12.3K. Then I sent it out to alpha readers, saying "Is this a complete story or the first few chapters of something?"
Based on feedback, it is a complete story arc that needed a little editing to clarify the ending, though half my betas liked as is, and half want it expanded into a novel. Jim was still waiting patiently for a short, so I eyed it with the intent of editing out 2.3K words, and hey, I'd have a short story!
Besides, as my darling man pointed out, expanding short stories into novels later is a long and glorious pulp tradition, so there was no reason not to do both. I may have given him the hairy eyeball and grumped that the backbrain was supremely uninterested in doing that, and besides, not only have I still not figured out sequels, I also missed figuring out a short by over two thousand words, and he expects me to pick up yet another skill set I don't have?
Being my husband, he smiled, and offered crème brulee and black rifle coffee. I forgive him everything!
I rewrote the story, especially the ending, cut out a lot more, and explained a little more here, added a character interaction there because it'd work better than an infodump, and... it went from 12.3K words to 12.5K
This was not the direction toward the 10K word cutoff for the anthology I wanted.
Jim Curtis took it anyway.
So in a few months, y'all may get to enjoy a not-so-short story of a spice and tea trader doing business in the colony world equivalent of modern-day Afghanistan, her extended family whose plans to take care of her are anything but helpful, and the soldier who intentionally gets himself caught in the middle...
Tuesday, June 2, 2020
Marriage milestone!
Ten years into marriage, my darling man and I hit a milestone today: we managed to fail to accomplish installation of a window air conditioner without grumping or snapping at each other.
...the failure part is because apparently we need a 1/2" wood shim to bring the brackets up to a level where they'll clip into the bottom of the unit. This is not mentioned in the directions, as apparently our windowsills do not meet the ideal windowsill installation that it was designed for. So, drawing inspiration from the "if you have storm windows" section, there will be a run to the hardware store, a shim installed to raise the brackets to the height that they'll meet the bottom of the a/c, and things should be good.
The windows are, as far as I can tell, about 25 years old. I shouldn't be surprised that there have been design changes to the sills. Ah, well!
Note that I did not cuss at my darling man, and we didn't yell at each other. Actual air conditioning unit, included manual, and cats who were trying to help not included in this accomplishment.
...the failure part is because apparently we need a 1/2" wood shim to bring the brackets up to a level where they'll clip into the bottom of the unit. This is not mentioned in the directions, as apparently our windowsills do not meet the ideal windowsill installation that it was designed for. So, drawing inspiration from the "if you have storm windows" section, there will be a run to the hardware store, a shim installed to raise the brackets to the height that they'll meet the bottom of the a/c, and things should be good.
The windows are, as far as I can tell, about 25 years old. I shouldn't be surprised that there have been design changes to the sills. Ah, well!
Note that I did not cuss at my darling man, and we didn't yell at each other. Actual air conditioning unit, included manual, and cats who were trying to help not included in this accomplishment.
Sunday, May 31, 2020
Fire in the sky!
Yesterday, we sent men up into space again!
Sure, the news is trying to focus on the highly organized and funded riots (with craigslist ads for paid rioters posted ahead of time, and pre-positioned pallets of bricks with people directing "protestors" to pick up a brick as they headed in...)
But that's temporary stupidity by ideologically blind idiots who think that if they recreate the summer of '69 with an overhyped and underperforming pandemic and astroturfed riots, they'll get the power they want. Ignore that mess on the ground. If we're going to redo '69, we're redoing the very best part, with men going up to orbit!
...and this time it's commercially, which means it won't stop if the next presidential administration and congress cuts funding. This makes me very excited, because single-planet species are at great risk of ceasing to exist. We need to get outa this place... I'll take the moon, but Mars would be better. Got an exoplanet that's earthlike yet?
By the way, SpaceX is still running live feed today as they're taking the opportunity to wring out hte Dragon with automated and hand-flown maneuvers. Because it is a test flight, and those two test pilots have got a whole lot of things to check out, while engineers on the ground await their data impatiently.
We'll get there yet! We've already gotten the first step down!
Sure, the news is trying to focus on the highly organized and funded riots (with craigslist ads for paid rioters posted ahead of time, and pre-positioned pallets of bricks with people directing "protestors" to pick up a brick as they headed in...)
But that's temporary stupidity by ideologically blind idiots who think that if they recreate the summer of '69 with an overhyped and underperforming pandemic and astroturfed riots, they'll get the power they want. Ignore that mess on the ground. If we're going to redo '69, we're redoing the very best part, with men going up to orbit!
...and this time it's commercially, which means it won't stop if the next presidential administration and congress cuts funding. This makes me very excited, because single-planet species are at great risk of ceasing to exist. We need to get outa this place... I'll take the moon, but Mars would be better. Got an exoplanet that's earthlike yet?
By the way, SpaceX is still running live feed today as they're taking the opportunity to wring out hte Dragon with automated and hand-flown maneuvers. Because it is a test flight, and those two test pilots have got a whole lot of things to check out, while engineers on the ground await their data impatiently.
We'll get there yet! We've already gotten the first step down!
Saturday, May 2, 2020
I wrote something new...
Now I have to write a blurb. Um, What's the story about? I just wrote tens of thousands of words exploring that. Um. It's about a ballistic pilot, and the absolutely terrible day she has when her own government tries to shoot her down. It's about the "military advisors" the Other Side is sending into her destination, because cold wars always have hot spots. It's about how, if you bleed a country with taxes and regulations until they can't survive, they will declare independence from the trade union just to stay alive.
It's also about learning that getting what you want doesn't mean you got what you need, and learning to ask for help, and to swallow your pride and start over. And about L-shaped ambushes and ground-to-air fire and how nobody loves linear assaults. And crusty cantankerous curmudgeons with hearts of gold.
And that, just because you've been in a field long enough that all the romance has rubbed off and you're well acquainted with the suck, doesn't mean you don't still love it anyway.
Saturday, April 25, 2020
Masking my contempt for idiotic decrees
The county judge just issued an order for all individuals over the age of 6 to wear masks in public. Which I find idiotic and especially trying, because my masks are specialty high-end N95 Vogmasks designed for being worn days on end when the pollen count is too bad for me to breathe unfiltered air. The last thing I want to do is wear them out by continuous use when I can breathe just fine, and not have them when I need them! (See also: they've gone from being easily available to completely sold out everywhere, all the time. And while I only need them a few times a year due to overactive immune system, I really feel for the folks who need them full-time due to medically suppressed immune systems.)
Capitalism to the rescue! Fine Art America now offers facemask option on some of the paintings uploaded, which means I can now wear out Ken Nelson's Alaska paintings. This makes me giggle.
Check this out!
https://fineartamerica.com/featured/sunset-over-the-alaskan-wild-kenneth-nelson.html
Capitalism to the rescue! Fine Art America now offers facemask option on some of the paintings uploaded, which means I can now wear out Ken Nelson's Alaska paintings. This makes me giggle.
Check this out!
https://fineartamerica.com/featured/sunset-over-the-alaskan-wild-kenneth-nelson.html
Friday, April 17, 2020
Persistence, take 2
After several years of showing up, and doing the work, despite injury, illness, and several other setbacks, I'm getting there. Just grinding it out, pushing through the soreness and the "don't want to" and the frustration and everything else.
Rack pull 135 pounds
Overhead press 70 pounds
Bench Press 87 pounds
Talking to my father last night, and he was rather boggled by those numbers. Then again, I suspect he still thinks of me as the 5' 5" 95 pound teenaged twig with a bright shock of blonde hair and a book practically glued to my face.
Mind you, dad was grumbling mildly about the difficulty of working on a pipeline where the only way to get access was to do a one-handed plank while swinging the hammer and holding the testing equipment overhead with the other hand. Dad, who has said maybe someday soon he might be getting too old to be the guy who climbs the rope ladder into and out of the tank... in full containment gear, while trailing the hoses for the air supply...
Yeah, I have a long way to go before I'm as tough as my father.
Rack pull 135 pounds
Overhead press 70 pounds
Bench Press 87 pounds
Talking to my father last night, and he was rather boggled by those numbers. Then again, I suspect he still thinks of me as the 5' 5" 95 pound teenaged twig with a bright shock of blonde hair and a book practically glued to my face.
Mind you, dad was grumbling mildly about the difficulty of working on a pipeline where the only way to get access was to do a one-handed plank while swinging the hammer and holding the testing equipment overhead with the other hand. Dad, who has said maybe someday soon he might be getting too old to be the guy who climbs the rope ladder into and out of the tank... in full containment gear, while trailing the hoses for the air supply...
Yeah, I have a long way to go before I'm as tough as my father.
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