Chicken and Waffles Sandwich

Have you ever had one of those moments of rare genius, where stars align and it’s as if heaven itself smiles down fortune upon you? Yeah, me too. I’d like to share one of those with you.

Chicken and waffles is a thing. Certainly not a bad thing. But also not a thing that I’ve just leapt into with both feet. However, I think I’ve found a way that I can get behind this marriage of breakfast and dinner.

Introducing my chicken and waffles sandwich. Now you may think she doesn’t look like much, but that’s because today I’m making a bunch of bite sized sandwiches for a party and I’m going to take you along for the ride. The only thing I do differently for a full sized sandwich is, well, keep everything full sized.

The first thing I work on is the bacon. Instead of just frying up some bacon, I like to give it some real flair by candying it. If this dish is all about marrying sweet and savory, there’s no point in only going halfway.

I mix up some maple syrup (that’s real maple syrup, not anything imitation here), Dijon mustard, brown sugar, with a bit of cayenne pepper. Next comes the bacon. You need to spring for the high quality stuff here. Thick cut and meaty. Toss that in your syrup mixture and after it’s nice and coated space the strips out evenly on a baking sheet. I line mine with parchment paper. I will warn you that it’ll leak and get all over your pan anyway, but it keeps the mess from being worse. Put another sheet of parchment paper over the top and then put another baking sheet on top of that, so the bacon is nice and sandwiched between the two sheets. Bake in a 325 degree oven for 20 minutes and then investigate. You’ll probably have to stick in back in for another 10-15, or if your oven is anything like mine, another 30 or so.

Eventually, you’ll end up with something that looks like this.

The bacon will be a nice rich mahogany and when you take it off the baking sheet, it’ll still be a bit sticky and soft, put the strips on a plate and let them harden for a few minutes. When all is said and done, you get that nice bacon flavor together with the caramelized sweetness of the syrup and sugar, and just a hint of heat from the mustard and pepper. For a full sized sandwich, I might break the pieces in half, depending on how big they turn out (the bacon will shrink up on you), for my bite sized, I’ll do them in thirds or quarters.

While you’ve got your maple syrup and Dijon still out on the counter, let’s talk about sauce. I honestly believe that the sauce is the key ingredient to making this sandwich work. Without it, you’ve just got a piece of chicken and a piece of big stuck between two breakfast breads. With it, you’ve got a bit of magic that surrounds and penetrates and binds the sandwich together.

Both the bacon and the sauce you can make ahead of time. Especially the sauce, you’ll want to refrigerate it for at least an hour before using.

You’re going to start by mixing together Dijon and the maple syrup. Start with about five times and much Dijon to maple. Then add in some honey, about half the amount of maple. Then taste. I prefer my sauce to be sweeter than this usually gets me, so I add in a bit more syrup and honey, tasting as I go until I find the perfect balance. Like I said, you’ll want to stash that in the fridge for at least an hour.

Ok, waffle time. I’m just going to admit right up front here, I don’t have any special secrets when it comes to waffles. I use a bag of waffle mix. There I said it. If you’ve got something special and fancy that you like, go right ahead and try it.

For a full sandwich, I use a whole circular waffle, one half on top, one on bottom. For my mini take, I’m going to use a shot glass. Just take a shot glass (or similar sized round object) and cut out perfect little round mini waffles.

The first time I made the smaller scale sandwiches, I made full sized waffles and cut the smaller version out of those. The problem I quickly found is that there is a very distinct scientific difference between waffles and biscuit dough. When you make biscuits, you can cut out a bunch of individual biscuits out of the dough, gather up the left over bits, roll it out again and punch out more biscuits. Waffles on the other hand don’t work that way. I ended up with lots of left over waffle edges that weren’t good for much other than snacking on. So if you read that and thought, “mmm! Waffle bits!” then you don’t need to read this next part. If you want to get the most bang for your waffle buck, make smaller waffles. That way when you cut out the circles, you’ll be wasting a lot less waffle.

My final waffle secret is after you’ve got your circles o’ waffle, butter up both sides and stick them in the toaster oven for a minute or two. That will toast up your sandwich bread and give it that delicious satisfying crunch.

The final component is the chicken. Good ol’ fried chicken. And everybody and their dog has their own special recipe (believe me, I’ve checked). So this is another one of those areas where you can do whatever makes you happy. Let me give you a few technical tips here.

I will take chicken breasts and pound the out thin. This helps the chicken cook faster and makes for a more even patty for your sandwich. For my bite sized version, I’ll cut the chicken into, you guessed it, bite sized nuggets.  Bread the chicken and fry.

Once the chicken is cooked it’s time or assembly.                                                     

Stack a piece of bacon on one of your waffle rounds, add a piece of chicken on top of that, drizzle with your maple honey mustard sauce and top with another waffle. Stick a toothpick in her and she’s done!

There’s a magic that comes with this sandwich. All of the different components come together to create a complete whole. But at the same time, you’ll still be able to taste all of the individual elements. Try it for yourself and enjoy. I’ll just apologize in advance when you can’t go back to eating the old, boring chicken and/or waffles after this.

The Name Game

We started discussing baby names before we even got married. We knew we’d be having kids, and the societal norm is to give those kids an identifying title. What we didn’t know is how difficult the whole process could be.

There are a few things one needs to consider when preparing to name a child. First, remember that this is what the child is going to be called its whole life. That’s what’s going to appear on resumes, official government documents, tombstones. It’s a fairly permanent thing.

Second, this is what you have to call the kid. If you can’t say it with a straight face, then you should probably reconsider.

Third, remember that other kids (and heck, adults) can be merciless and evil. Yes, Barfuss may be a proud family name handed down from generation to generation, but just stop and think of some possible playground scenarios.

Fourth, before you go with a fad name, cast your mind forward into the future a number of years. Alf might’ve sounded great back in ’86, Neo in ’99, or Katniss last week, but it’s 2014 now and how cool do you think all of those kids feel now?

Then there’s the whole uniqueness debate and debacle. On one hand, you’d like to give your child a unique identity. I once encountered a lady who had named her daughters Caelee and Carlee and was baffled as to why Grandma had put the wrong name on the birthday present. There is certainly something to be said for having a bit of originality. On the other hand, there’s original and then there’s “you just made that up didn’t you?” I think that Utahns and celebrities are the primary offenders here. We’ve all heard about Gwyneth Paltrow naming her child Apple, or Nic Cage naming his son Kal-El. But then you also have people who I swear just throw random syllables together until if you squint your ears really, really hard it almost just might sound a bit like a name. The other way this problem is manifest is in by trying to give your child a unique spelling. Yes, there are many names that have a few different variations: Eric vs Erik, Allison vs Alison, Sean vs Shaun vs Shawn, Ladasha vs L-a. But some parents decide that’s not good enough. Perhaps you’ve heard the linguistic joke that asks how does one spell “fish.” The answer is ghoti—gh as in “tough,” o as in “women,” and ti as in “nation.” Suddenly you end up with names like Ahleighvre. What’s worse, is that even baby name websites are encouraging this trend. I was looking at one site where when you pulled up a name there was a button you could click called “get creative!” This led to a bunch of unique spellings and randomly generated names based off of the original. There were even some without vowels. Without vowels!! What kind of parent doesn’t love their child enough to put vowels in their names??

You just made Pat Sajak sad, and he doesn't even know why.

The other big issue in child naming can be summed up with one little image from Pinterest:

Most of our name hunting actually came from just reading through long lists of baby names. The problem was as soon as we read one, either me or the wife would respond with something like “No. I dated too many of those.” Or “No. Every one of those I’ve ever met has been a jerk.” Or “No. I already know like a gazillion of those.” Or “No. Do you want our child to become a stripper?”

And that’s not even taking into account matters of personal preference. I liked the name Ashley…for a boy. This was met by a response by the wife (and, well, let’s be honest…just about everybody else) that would’ve made you think I suggested the name Diarrhea P. Williams.

Sorry son, you could've been among the greats...

The good news is, after months of struggle, thousands of names from Aaron to Zeniffta we did eventually settle on both boy and girl names. Boy names were easy, which should’ve been our first clue that the baby was going to be a girl.

And so, without any further ado, we proudly present the name we have chosen for the soon to be newest member of the Williams clan:

7-23-5-14-14-1-14 

What? You thought I was just going to give it to you? (Hint: A=1, B=2, etc...)

The Gender

Despite our common assertion that our baby would be Star Rainbow Happymagic: androgynous child freed from any shackling gender roles, we do in fact want your typical average one-or-the-other type of child (I can already hear some of you breathing sighs of relief). At least one of each. Question is, what do we want more? Well, that’s a tough one. On one hand, I would certainly like me a man-child who can carry on the Williams name and join with me in proud bow tie wearing tradition. On the other hand, any time I would see a cute little girl with a bow in her hair instead of on her neck, my heart would melt. Moral of the story: as long as it’s not a velociraptor we’d be just fine.

Before we get to the main event, a side anecdote: The baby has started to kick. The wife will feel them and so I’ll hurry and put my hand on her stomach. As soon as my hand is in place, the baby stops. I am most definitely the father.

So we get to the ultrasound appointment and the quest with all sorts of Freudian implications began. The good news is everything looks hunky dory. But that’s not what you came here for, is it? Well, scroll on down for the big reveal.

You really thought I was just going to post a naked picture on here? Come on, guys, this is a family blog!

Ok, here we go for realzies this time...

So there you have it. It’s a girl! I will admit we were both a bit surprised. But hey, on the other hand, the majority of you guessed right. So congrats and feel free to send me lotto numbers. We are really excited and can’t wait to cover half her face in giant bow things and put her in cute little outfits. The wife is particularly excited that since she’ll be a winter baby we can get her lots of cute little pea coats. I will start brushing up on all of the latest Pinterest braiding techniques and proper tea party etiquette.

THE ADVENTURES OF MAN-DAD WILL RETURN NEXT WEEK IN: BABY NAMES 

And the Winner is...

Two weeks ago I asked you all to vote on what gender you thought our lovely little fetus would be.
Well folks, the results of the poll are in. Let's take a look at what you thought:

Looks like girl beat out boy by a narrow margin. Now the real question is, how many of you have actual psychic powers? Stay tuned, because next Friday (Sept. 12) we'll have the great big gender reveal right here on your favorite blog (and by that I mean this blog, not some other one you might follow religiously).

Your Guess is as Good as Mine

So we've got a big announcement to make in a couple of weeks. We just set the appointment for the ultrasound. You know...the ultrasound. (The gender one).

But before the big reveal, we wanted to get your input. What's it going to be, blog fans? Boy or girl? Vote now and then check back on September 5 and we'll reveal what you think the baby is going to be. Then a week later we'll have the actual results for you to ooo and ahhh over.

(The poll will close Sept. 2 at midnight)

The Essentials

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about my mini existential crisis from not owning one of my favorite movies and therefore not being able to share that with my soon-ish to be born child. This got me thinking about some of the other things that I grew up with that I want to share with my kids.

So, without any further ado, here are (in no particular order) the top ten movies I will make sure my children grow up with.

One more note: before I get a bunch of emails complaining about some of these movies, I do understand the concept of “age-appropriate.” It’s not like we’d stick them in a proverbial blender and turn them into some sort of cinematic baby food.

That distinction belongs to different movies, well at least the part about wanting to stick them in a blender.

Star Wars

I’ve already talked about this one. So not much to add here. I will say this, however: My children will grow up on the original trilogy. If they want to discover that these things called the prequels exist, it’ll be on their own after they’ve turned 18 and have moved out of the house.

Raiders of the Lost Ark

Continuing with the Harrison Ford love, we have the first entry into the world of Indiana Jones. My mom claims that this was one of the first movies she ever took me to (though I don’t remember it at all, and since it came out several years before I was born I’m not totally sure how that worked…unless it was a special screening, I guess?) Yes, it’s got the face melting, but it also has one of the most recognized opening sequences in all of moviedom. Who hasn’t pretended to run away from a giant boulder? Heck, it got me to want to actually go do stuff outside. And considering I will be my children’s father (deep, I know) they’ll probably need all the help they can get with that.

Fantasia

I’ll start this one off by saying that Disney is an obvious given (except Bambi, no kid needs that kind of trauma in their life). But here I wanted to single out Fantasia in particular. It’s an incredibly unique movie and was certainly ahead of its time. It gave me my love of classical music and dancing mushrooms and broomsticks. The Night on Bald Mountain Sequence was equal parts terrifying and mesmerizing to me as a child.

Side story (because it’s awesome): My best friend has an almost 4 year old son. One time when we were over he said he wanted to listen to “the monster song.” The wife and I assumed that this was something from the likes of Muppets or Monster’s Inc. But no, his dad turned in on and it was Night on Bald Mountain. The child then proceeded to do all the actions, which I’m sure had we had the video playing would’ve been perfectly in sync with what was on the screen. Considering he can also do the best one man Pirates of Penzance I’ve ever seen, the bar has been set pretty high for our children.

The Wizard of Oz

Speaking of movies that scared and fascinated me as a child. No, it wasn’t the wicked witch or the flying monkeys, it was those creepy trees that threw apples at Dorothy and the Scarecrow. Those gave me nightmares (except often they had been turned into talking evil bookcases, but now’s not the time to get into the Freudian interpretation of what that could possibly mean).

This used to be an event movie. It was on TV once a year and you made a big deal out of it: you’d cook popcorn, unplug the phone (yes, back in those days your phone was actually connected to the wall, kids), and watch as a family. I think I’ll recreate this by only letting my kids watch it once a year and stopping it every fifteen minutes to remind them about the benefits of getting enough fiber in their diet, who to call to get the best settlement for auto accidents or medical malpractice, and that beef is what’s for dinner.

Batman

I have loved superheroes from an early age. Back before it was cool to like them (thanks, Marvel…but seriously, thank you). Batman was always my favorite. I grew up with the strange mix of Michael Keaton and Adam West. But you know what? To me there wasn’t a difference. It was all Batman. It didn’t register that in one the Joker was involved in biological warfare on the citizens of Gotham and in the other he was trying to rearrange all the street signs in Gotham (or something that silly).

And certainly, the much more recent Chris Nolan films are bastions of filmmaking and will be mainstays in our household. But there’s just something nostalgic about these old ones that I grew up with that I want to continue into the next generation.

Doctor Who

I know. It’s not a movie. But you know what? It’s my blog, my list, so my rules, so just deal with it.

While Doctor Who has been around for just over 50 years now, its huge popularity in America has only come in the last decade thanks to the revival of the show that started in 2005. Based on that, it would seem like the target audience is high school and college aged nerdy types. But you know what? Back across the pond in the UK, it’s a kid’s show.

Now I’m not going to say it doesn’t have universal appeal since I first started watching it as a college aged nerdy type. And all of those people who watched it back in the 60s and 70s are certainly adults now who continue to enjoy watching (and it the rare case getting to actually become the title character).

In all honesty, this still feels like a foreign concept to me. I had heard them talk about it being a kid’s show but that never really rang true to me. Until one day I was watching some bonus features for series 5. They were doing a tour around the UK to introduce the then new Doctor, Matt Smith. And you know where they went? Schools! I watch as these school children complete with their very British uniforms filed into auditoriums to watch an episode of Doctor Who. It was almost night and day to later when they went to New York and were mobbed by the nerdy types mentioned above, but that’s a discussion for a different day.

Princess Bride

OK, I have to confess. I never saw this movie as a kid. It wasn’t until I was in junior high, or maybe even high school that I finally watched it.

It’s a classic. When I finally saw it I loved it and wish I had seen it earlier. This is one of those cases of trying to give my kids a better childhood than I had.

Speaking of, does anyone know where I can find one of these?

Ghostbusters

It’s Ghostbusters! It’s a movie about guys that shoot ghosts with lasers! And at the end they fight a giant marshmallow creature!

It even spawned a cartoon series where Bill Murray’s character was voiced by the same actor who voiced Garfield. Bill Murray himself went on to voice Garfield in the live action/CGI movie. Let your brain chew on that piece of meta gristle for a while.

Bedknobs and Broomsticks

This was another one of those Grandma-recorded-off-of-PBS classics. As a kid I loved knights and castles and all that. So obviously my favorite part was the climactic show down between enchanted suits of armor and the Nazis (Seriously they don’t make kids movies like this anymore). Often I would skip past Portabello Road, not care one bit about bobbing along under the beautiful briny sea, or watch the dad from Mary Poppins become a good father yet again. I wanted to see haunted knights throw down like its 1066.

The Pagemaster

Odds are you don’t remember this flick from ’94 starring the kid from Home Alone, Commander Kruge from Star Trek III, and the Alpaca guy from Arrested Development. Macaulay Culkin stars as a kid who is afraid of everything who gets sucked into the magical animated world of books.

True story: this movie came out when I was about seven and I wanted to go see it. The reviews hadn’t been very great and my parents were rather reluctant to take me. I made up a picket sign that read something like “don’t trust critics! See a movie for yourself to know if you like it!” (brevity was not a strong point at that age) and marched around the house in protest until my parents broke down and took me (even they admitted they had enjoyed it). But worry not, future children! There will be no need for civil disobedience in our household! You can watch Patrick Stewart voice a swashbuckling hardcover whenever you wish!

~~~

So here’s the deal: sound off in the comments and let me know what’s your number one essential movie for raising your kids right. I’ll pick the best one and you’ll win a prize (prize to be determined, but don’t get your hopes up for an iPad or anything…). Good luck and good commenting!

Cajun Pizza

So it’s not a big secret that I’m a big fan of Cajun food. Several months ago, I made pizza and jambalaya two nights in a row. I remember cutting up the Andouille sausage for the jambalaya and thinking to myself if there was a way I could use this on pizza. Well, it took me until now to figure it out and let me tell you, it was a huge success.

I’ve got something new here this week. We actually filmed me making the Cajun pizza for the first time. So please check out the premiere episode of Edible Experimentations: The Series and then read on below for some more in depth information.

First off, let’s talk about a few things that I didn’t really talk about in the video. The pizza dough was hand made using Alton Brown’s recipe. The sauce I wish had talked more about because this was the biggest and most pleasant surprise on the pizza. I wasn’t sure how it was going to turn out so I just sort of pushed it to the side. Well, I’m now here to amend my ways (and brag a bit).  The base of the sauce is just a can of tomato sauce. I sweetened it up a bit by adding in some dark brown sugar. There I just told you the secret ingredient, I hope you’re happy. And don’t get too comfortable. It’s not too likely to happen again. I opted for the dark sugar as opposed to just the regular stuff because dark brown sugar is coated in molasses and I wanted that flavor to come through. I then added a goodly amount of my homemade Cajun seasoning mix. I will confess I just found a recipe online for that, and you can too.

Next up is the Holy Trinity. In Cajun cooking, this refers to celery, onion, and green pepper. It’s a riff on the traditional mirepoix which is the vegetable bases of many classic French dishes. Now green pepper and onion are pretty typical pizza ingredients, but celery seemed a bit out there. I am happy to report that it didn’t distract at all.

As I mentioned before, Andouille was where this whole crazy train started. The addition of shrimp was actually a last minute idea that had been rolling around in my head after doing some research for my Po’ Boy sandwich.

The cheese was another one of the trickier elements. While cheese isn’t a prominent feature in Cajun cuisine, it’s kind of a big deal when it comes to pizza. After mulling over various options, I finally settled on getting a smoked cheese to compliment the smokiness of the Andouille as well as the fact that this was going to be a grilled pizza. I went with cheddar because that’s what they had at the store. And while cheddar is FAR from my first choice for pizza cheese, it didn’t actually bother me here at all.

Grilling was another last minute call. This was the first time I had ever grilled a pizza and so it was definitely a learning experience. I had my grill set to medium, and overall this worked fine. I will admonish you to work quickly however. It took a while to get all of the ingredients on the pizza and so the underside got a bit too charred for some people’s taste. You could also turn your grill down since that side will end up being on the grill for longer than two minutes. The other big tip for grilling is to pay attention to what you’re doing. The first attempt ended in disaster because instead of flipping the pizza, I put down the sauce and toppings on the uncooked side which led to one side of the crust turning to charcoal and the other to mush.

Overall I would call this a success and something we will definitely be making again. 

A Parenting Crisis

The other night I was tossing and turning in bed and was suddenly hit with an incredibly troubling parenting thought. I don’t own Star Wars.

My reasons are equal parts inexcusable and completely justified. Yes, I know that it's a cultural phenomenon. Yes, I grew up watching it every chance I got. Yes, I promise I have every intention of raising my children right. No, it's really not as easy as going to the store and picking up a copy. The difficulty of owning the original version of the Star Wars movies is well documented (such as in the excellent documentary The People vs George Lucas [warning: angered fans use colorful metaphors to express their feelings]) but for those of you who have found so much purpose in life so that you don’t have an hour and a half to waste on an incredibly nerdy Netflix documentary, here’s a quick rundown:

WARNING: INSANE LEVELS OF NERDINESS FOLLOWS

As you may be aware, back in 1977 a little movie came out called Star Wars. It has gone on to become a cultural icon and global enterprise. I personally grew up watching a recorded-off-of-PBS VHS copy that my Grandma had. I just about had the thing memorized. I remember when I discovered that there were TWO MORE OF THESE! Moral of this part of the story is that it was a big deal. And this was not limited to just me.

The issue really started 20 years later. In 1997 Lucas released the “Special Editions” of the Star Wars trilogy. These editions had restored picture and sound, updated special effects, and most unfortunately updates and changes that upset a lot of fans. Nine years later, the trilogy was released on DVD for the first time. We were so, so privileged that then bothered to release the original versions as a “bonus feature.” When the Blu-ray versions came out in 2011, not only were there even more changes, they acted like the original versions were some sort of myth like Atlantis, Bigfoot, or Kanye West's sense of humor.

***CAPTION CENSORED***

For me, the issue isn't so much that he’s made changes. It’s his right as the creator, I suppose. The issue is that there’s a complete disregard for the original versions. Let’s take another bastion of Sci-Fi film, Ridley Scott’s Blade Runner: There are various and sundry versions that exist: international versions, early edits, Director’s cuts, etc. When it was released on Blu-ray in 2006 you could pick up a 5 disc edition. What on earth could one movie have to offer over 5 whole discs? Well, one disc was the original theatrical version, another was the Director’s Cut, and another was the recently made “Final Cut.” Don’t like the re-edit? Pop in another disc and watch the version you do enjoy.

Pictured: An example to us all. Not Pictured: Star Wars.

END RANT

For those reasons (and probably some more), I had never purchased the films. I waited in vain hope that someday the version of Star Wars that I had grown up with would become readily available. But it still hit me hard: how am I supposed to raise my child right if I don’t even have one of the most important pieces of my own life development? 

I quickly took to eBay and tracked down an old DVD copy of the theatrical version. Crisis averted. A bit anti-climactic? Perhaps.  But I slept like a baby after that. And perhaps even more importantly, I feel like I can use this post on my Father of the Year application.

'Nuff said. 

OhBoy!GYN

It was time to set the appointment.

The wife made the call to the doctor’s office that resulted in the type of interrogation one gets anytime they try and do anything medical related. After asking her questions that I don’t think anybody really wants to know the answer to came this little exchange:

Nurse: Are you married?

Wife: Yes.

Nurse: Is your husband the father?

Wife (taken aback): Yes…

Despite this test of morals, the nurse in subsequent questions kept referring to me as “the child’s father.”  I feel extremely confident in saying that this is the closest either of us will ever get to being on Springer.

When we get to the appointment the wife is handed a stack of paperwork to fill out, including a medical history sheet asking the exact same questions posed to her over the phone a few days previous.

After completing the pile of “sign here” “initial here” “this is your copy” “this form is just to let you know…” we get called back. Well, technically, just she gets called back. I follow because I’m a rebel like that. The nurse sits us down and proceeds to ask the same questions a third time.

After the nurse leaves and we wait awkwardly, the doctor arrives.

Pictured: The Doctor Not Pictured: The Doctor we Actually Saw

Fortunately for the Wife, the first thing he asked was how her morning sickness was. As mentioned previously, it had not been going well. The doctor immediately prescribed some anti-nausea meds and for at least a brief moment everything felt right with the world.

At this point in our narrative, I would like to pause and ask a very serious, very important question: why do men become this kind of doctor? I really don’t know. I mean, on one hand, babies are super cute. That’s just a science fact. But most of the time the doctor isn’t looking at a baby. I honestly wonder if there’s a bit of leftover frat boy mentality from medical school. I think this is just one of those unsolvable mysteries, like who killed Kennedy, who is “You’re So Vain” about, or why One Direction is allowed to put out "music."

After the doctor did his thing, we got to go in and have an ultrasound. I watched on the monitor and saw basically what the TV looks like when the cable goes out. The ultrasound tech lady pointed out a small little protuberance at the bottom of the screen. That little nugget was our baby. And even though it pretty much looked like a peanut, I could definitely tell it took more after its father. 

You can definitely see the resemblance.

After we finished gushing, the Wife had to get blood drawn. Here’s the deal, me and needles do not get along. Even just writing this now is making me start to hyperventilate and get super tense and sick to my stomach. So fortunately, I was not the one get poked, but I still had to be there. I plopped down in the corner as far away from the action as possible. The nurse tried to make small talk, but I just buried my head in an old issue of People magazine. And you know what? I made it without puking or passing out. I deserve a cookie or something. Oh, the Wife did just fine. Needles don’t bother her. Oh and by the way, did you know that Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston are breaking up?

Po' Boy

As you can see, there are few things different around here this week. I’ve made a few changes and want to expand the scope of the blog. I plan to keep the blog going after the baby is born, and while certainly the pregnancy and all that entails is certain at the very top of the priority list, I do have other interests and thoughts I’d like to share with you. And this week is the big roll out! So without further ado, let’s see what’s in store:

One of my main passions is food. Though you probably wouldn’t know it from looking at me. But I love to cook, and in fact I do most of the cooking at home. This of course isn’t to say that the wife doesn’t help, but it’s something that I can do for her.  So with summer in full swing, I decided to branch out and try something new. Well, several new things. I decided that I was going to try several new dishes (some coming from recipes, some straight from my head, and some a combination of both) and report on the results to you. So here is week one’s dish: The Po’ Boy Sandwich.

A Po’ Boy sandwich is a Cajun classic. Its origins and name are straight out of New Orleans. The story goes that during a streetcar strike, a restaurant served free sandwiches to the striking workers who they referred to as “poor boys.” The sandwich took on the name and with the native dialect became the “Po’ Boy.”

There are, in my opinion, three distinctive features of the Po’ Boy: the bread, the sauce, and the filling. Yes, I’m well aware that could be said of any sandwich. Let’s get into the specifics and see what I mean.

First up the bread. Po’ Boys are traditionally served on a French baguette type of bread. It has a crispier crust and a soft interior that to me just says good sandwich bread. I’ve seen other breads used, but it’s that long, slender bread that helps immediately identify the sandwich in question.

Then comes the sauce. I’ve had Po’ Boy that only have mayo, and while certainly not bad, if I’m taking the reins, I want to step it up a bit. Most online recipes call for a type of sauce known as remoulade. There are a number of variations with most containing mayo, horseradish, and seasonings. The recipe I decided on was basically a spiced up fry-sauce, but more on that later.

Finally, the filling. For me, there’s nothing like shrimp. Though chicken is a close second (especially if I’m eating at Popeyes). I’ve seen other variations with different fish and sausages as well. The key here is to really hit home on the Cajun. If you’re going with fish, go with fried catfish, for sausage it better be Andouille. I’ve seen some that are just roast beef or ham, but to me that just sounds more like a sub than an actual Po’ Boy.

So how did it come together in my kitchen? Let’s take a look:

Go ahead, lick the screen. You know you want to. 

I’ll start off by saying that I was rather pleased with the way it turned out. There were a couple of missteps: the bread I had bought the day before had gone rock hard by the time I tried to use it, and the Andouille I’d bought to pair with the shrimp remained forgotten in the fridge. But if you have all the ingredients actually in place, you’ve got a quick fix that is filled with flavor.

As I mentioned before, I used an online recipe for the sauce. About halfway through making it I realized that this was just a fancied up fry-sauce, but that’s ok. It tasted great .I didn’t have any horseradish on hand (because, yuck) and instead took a radish to the food processor to get some of that kick, but with an agreeable flavor. I let mine sit in the refrigerator for a bit to let the flavors combine; otherwise it takes no time to put it together.

I was surprised how quickly the shrimp came together. I think the longest part was peeling and deveining them, which could be easily remedied by purchasing the “all ready to go” stuff. Following another online suggestion, I coated the shrimp with blackened seasoning, dunked them in egg and buttermilk, dredged them in a mix of flour and cornmeal, and then into a cast iron skillet filled with hot oil. Our shrimp weren't huge (haha, get it?) so they cooked in just a few minutes. The crust was nice and crispy and I really liked the addition of the cornmeal.

With the addition of tomato and lettuce, the sandwiches were ready to go. I buttered and toasted the bread for a bit of an extra crunch and piled everything on. The addition of some Zapps New Orleans style chips meant that the good times were ready to roll. The flavors were all there, and one sandwich was definitely filling. I was surprised how mild the heat was. After eating most of the sandwich, I could feel a slight burn built up in my mouth, but not bad at all. I’d even go out on a limb and say my family might even be ok with them (note: my family are notorious [at least to me] spice shunners).

Hopefully next time I’ll remember to pull out the Andouille and brown that up to go with the shrimp, and I’ll probably add a bit more of the Cajun seasoning, but yes, there will indeed be a next time. With a rather quick prep time (which you could further shorten by using pre-breaded shrimp, but you wouldn't want to do that would you?) this makes a great, flavorful weeknight-friendly meal.

So there you have it, the first edible experiment was a success. We've got a new recipe for the rotation, and can easily enjoy a bit of the bayou with the benefit of not having to book a big…quick, what’s a synonym for vacation that starts with a ‘B’?

Morning Sickness

It seemed like almost the next morning after we found out the wife was pregnant the morning sickness set in. The term ‘morning sickness,’ at least in my wife’s case, is a bit of a misnomer. It should probably be more accurately termed ‘every minute of my life that I wish would just end so I would stop feeling so @#%* nauseous sickness.’ And so while the original plan was to hold off on sharing the good news, it soon became evident that the wife would need to tell her boss lest suspicion should arise over her heretofore nonexistent tardiness.

Amusingly enough, the day she decided to tell the boss she got into work a few hours late after readying herself at a snail’s pace in order to avoid having the supermodel-sized bit of breakfast she had managed to get down from making a return appearance. The first thing her boss said upon her arrival was “I was wondering if there might be a little Williams on the way…” To which the wife could only respond, “About that…”

I have certainly learned a lot through this process. For one, morning sickness apparently likes to take weekends off. Especially at the beginning the dreaded nausea nightmare was wreaking havoc on her work schedule. But come Saturday, sleeping in went just fine and the day’s activities could be enjoyed in relative peace. Now I won’t get into the chicken and egg debate that naturally flows from the facts I have presented, I will only say “you’re welcome” to all those we saw on weekend that did not end up covered with wife’s breakfast, whatever the scientific explanation.

The second interesting tidbit I have picked up on is how incredibly resilient the dread bile-beast can be. My poor wife tried everything to slay the dry-heaving dragon. One morning she added a bit of ginger to her oatmeal and it worked great. So naturally she tried it again the next morning. That breakfast got rejected faster than the captain of the chess club trying to ask the head cheerleader to prom. It’s like the puke poltergeist only other purpose besides getting my wife to become really close friends with our toilet is to become invincible. It’s like something out of a horror or sci-fi movie where the good guys have been gunning down the monsters, but suddenly the weapons become completely ineffective, causing the hero to stand in a moment of stunned terror before throwing the weapon at the creature before booking it in the opposite direction.

This whole ralphing routine has taught me a thing or two. For one it really humbled me and made me take inventory on my life and what I was doing with it. Here my wife is participating in the miracle of life (and getting her butt kicked by it) and the closest I ever get to a miracle is if I shower before noon. Now, I’d like to think that I’ve been at least a half-decent husband thus far, but with my wife more out of commission than she’s ever been in our married life I realized how much slack she picks up. I’ve still got a long way to go before I even do half as much as she does, but I have gotten better at doing the dishes (and I haven’t even broken any!) and I've even learned how to use our vacuum. Now I don’t want this to turn into some post about how awesome I am, it’s supposed to be about my wife and how she’s been holding up. So therefore I won’t even mention that one time I got really bad food poisoning and was puking all day so I totally know how she feels.

A visual representation of the offerings my wife has been giving to the porcelain gods lately.  

The Beginning

We found out that we would be having a baby right after returning from a vacation to Oregon. My wife had been suspecting, but it wasn't until we got back home that she could take the pregnancy test and know for sure. So she went in the bathroom and peed on the stick. She came out and showed me the stick which bore the double line of fertility. We hugged and celebrated and then she headed for the trash can. She wanted to throw away the Symbol of Conception! I chased after her:

“What are you doing?”

 “I peed on this! I’m throwing it away,” she responds in disgust (side note: My wife is a germaphobe. I feel like this could be a good bit of foreshadowing for later when we get to things like changing diapers and dealing with spit up).

“You can’t throw it away! That’s an important relic!”

“No! I peed on it! We are not keeping something I urinated on!”

“But what are we supposed to show the baby later on?”

“Not something I peed on!”

She at least let me take a picture. She would not, however, let me post the picture here.

Pictured: A stick my wife did not pee on. Not Pictured: The stick my wife actually did pee on.

Then it began to hit me. It went a little like this:

It was rather late, so we crawled into bed. As I lay there trying to fall asleep, the paranoia struck. Every possible concern one could have concerning a new baby came flooding into my mind: What if it’s a boy? What if it’s a girl? What if it’s both? What are the odds of it coming out a different race? What if there’s more than one in there? What if, heaven forbid, it wants to play sports? The wife reassured me that the odds of two white people giving birth to an Asian are incredibly low and eventually I fell asleep. 

Introduction

My wife is pregnant. In this day and age of technology, social media, and hashed-tags that means that every moment of pregnancy be carefully documented and published for the world to see in the form of a blog (short for web-log, fun fact of the day). Usually the expectant mother assumes this duty as she is the one with the firsthand information, what with the intrauterine parasite growing inside of her and all. The blog is usually titled something like “Our Super Crazy Wacky Life Together” and implies that this is, in fact, a family blog and about the wacky, super crazy adventures they have together. In most cases, however, the husband is mysteriously absent as the wife goes and gets a mani-pedi , or has a baby shower, or attends prenatal underwater Pilates class. At best he shows up as the one who brings home the pickles and ice cream, or the out of focus thumb that accidently made it in to the baby bump picture.

Left to Right: Beaming Mother, Incidental Accomplice

[Photo: baby bump, out of focus thumb in corner. Caption: Left to Right: Beaming Mother, Incidental Accomplice]

With us, however, that will not be the case. In this blog, I, the husband and father-elect, will take center stage with my wife off doing her own thing. That isn’t to say that her presence will not be felt here. I will certainly consult her on how to spell Fallopian and get her current nausea levels. But the focus here is on my journey through the land of ultrasounds, breathing exercises, and compound estrogen logic.

The Nerdy Parents to Be