Thorazine is on my Xmas list

Miss Mia Sopaipilla views with alarm
"You said a bad word," says Mia. "And another. And another. And another. ..."

What’s been going on around here, you ask?

Well, let me think here for a minute. Hmm. …

We had the big Thanksgiving Day U-turn from Bibleburg to Fort Collins and back on Thursday; a full day of VeloNewsery plus dinner with our across-the-street neighbors Larry, Jill and Wendy on Friday; lunch with (and saying adios to) our wonderful next-door neighbor Judy on Saturday, with an extra-large side of work; and work work work on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday, culminating in yet another dinner with friends tonight, a northern New Mexican project to which I tended between bouts of pixel-pushing for the Boulder boyos.

Whew. Long week for an old dog. And it ain’t over yet.

As you might imagine, something’s had to give around here, and that something is exercise. My ass is approaching critical mass, and I ain’t talking about the traffic-snarling bicycle parade, either.

I did sneak out for a 20-minute “run” this afternoon before putting the beans on the stove. Folks probably thought they were seeing a particularly ugly, sluggish zombie on the prowl.

And I probably managed to sweat off a couple of grams running around the kitchen, chopping, mincing, slicing, sautéing and stirring bits of this and that until in desperation, running out of time, I finally dialed down the menu from cheese enchiladas in green sauce with one side of beans in chipotle and another of red chile roasted potatoes to a bare-bones platter — bean burritos smothered in green with a side of the aforementioned spuds.

The bad news is, I probably put those lost grams right back on by going back for seconds. Plus pie. Did I mention pie? Oh, Lord.

Meanwhile, we will return to our regularly scheduled snark come Thursday, when I have a day off — and the weatherman is calling for wind-driven snow and a high in the 20s. I foresee much grumbling and the first stationary-trainer ride of the season, not necessarily in that order.

Buh-bye, bunga bunga

Buffalo bolognese
A guy can't eat Mexican 24/7, f'chrissakes. One must think of the neighbors. Leave the gas attacks to the coppers at Occupy Denver.

In honor of Silvio Berlusconi’s departure and Larry T’s extended Giro d’Italia — and because we’ve had an overlong run of beans, green and red chile, and posole around the DogHaus lately — I whipped up a skillet of buffalo bolognese tonight and laid it out over spaghettini.

Herself assembled a green salad and tackled post-dinner KP, while as per usual the cats and dog contributed exactly jack shit to the common good. Why we let all these critters Occupy Caramillo Street free of charge remains a mystery. Oh, yeah, they’re cute. Mystery solved. You know my methods, Watson.

Bloggery was nonexistent this weekend thanks to an unusually large pile of VeloNews, which caused me to mumble many words of four letters and one syllable as I shoveled away.

I wrote five race reports thanks to the miracle of streaming video; fielded quotes, updates and wisdom from Brian Holcombe, our man on the ground at USGP Louisville; posted a mess of results and bits of this, that and the other from Euro’ scribe Andy Hood and other contributors — and yet, when I look at the homepage, somehow it doesn’t look like there was much going on. It just took a long time to get it up there.

Meanwhile, for some reason I’ve decided to resume “running,” if your idea of “running” involves five minutes of same sandwiched between two 10-minute segments of walking. My knees were bugging me earlier this year, so I 86ed the ground-pounding in hopes that a respite might spare me a trip to the doc. Bad news I can get right here in the office for pennies via the Innertubes.

But on Saturday I did the walk-run-walk thing, and I repeated it today — ramping the “running” segment up to seven and a half minutes — and while I can’t say that it feels as pleasant as getting a hot-oil rubdown from Elle MacPherson and Tyra Banks after a double Talisker, it’s not as painful as watching Rick Perry or Herman Cain demonstrate how woefully unqualified they are to hold any position loftier than that of Wal-Mart greeter in Undescended Testicle, North Dakota.

Oh, deer

Turkish surprise
The Turk' has that sinking feeling as Daylight Saving Time comes to an end.

The weather went a bit sideways on us this week, briefly taking a distinctly Novemberish turn. Snow, wind and cold — the combination put me out of sorts, as the first frigid wedgie of winter always does. If I wanted to wear long pants all the time I’d have grown up by now.

I slouched around indoors, squatted at the computer and took far too many pictures of the cats, so many that a Facebook friend complained, “Man, I know it’s cold outside, but you need to get out for some fresh air.”

So today, after Daylight Saving Time crapped in our clocks, I took his advice. Herself had been out earlier wearing everything in her closet, but we cyclo-crossers are made of sterner stuff (even the retired geezerly ones). So come afternoon, once the VeloPile had dwindled to a workable size, I slipped out for a short ride clad in the basics — wool socks, leg warmers, bibs, two long-sleeve jerseys, long-fingered gloves, tuque, and the old Giro helmet that fits over a heavy-duty skullcap. You know; manly kit.

I chose a leisurely ride I call The Four Parks because it takes in (wait for it) four parks. No hustle, no hassle, no hurry; just stretching the legs and enjoying the endorphins. My fellow Bibleburgers were entranced by the feetsball, some faux military struggle between wild horses and buccaneers that kept them off the streets and glued to the One Big Eye. Thoughts of crimes against the State and Nature receded into the distance like farts in a whirlwind.

My spectators included a four-point buck guarding his harem with one eye on me. A few miles further along there was another four-pointer who could have been his twin brother, also with kinfolk in tow. And finally a mother and daughter, the latter wobbling all over the path on a pink bike.

I performed the traditional Laying of Hands Upon the Brake Levers, because it’s unseemly for cantankerous baldheaded tosspots to run down children, even among the libertarians. Words of four letters and one syllable queued up behind my clenched teeth, awaiting deployment.

And then the kid waved joyously, squealing, “Hi!”

Mom grinned and shrugged, and I retracted my venom-tipped fangs.

“Hi!” I replied with a smile as I rolled past, both mitts still on the levers (hey, I’m flexible, not foolish).

And then I rolled casually back to my own family, deciding to cook up a pot of chile con carne, just like the one Mom used to make.

Fries with that?

Posole
A pot of posole simmering at Chez Dog. Soups and stews were the first dishes I ever tackled, and they remain a favorite because of their relative simplicity of preparation and quantity of leftovers.

Mark Bittman of The New York Times takes issue with the conventional lefty wisdom that fast food is cheaper than home-cooked meals for cash-strapped families. Meanwhile, Tom Philpott of Mother Jones takes issue with Bittman’s taking issue, noting that he failed to consider the cost of labor in planning, shopping, cooking and cleaning up after a meal for four.

And labor it is, as any amateur hash-slinger will tell you. Cooking is something you must want to do in a society where underpaid people in paper hats hurl greasy feedlot meat and potatoes at you as you drive past from home to work and back again. We have TV to watch, goddamnit — we don’t have time for all that grub-rasslin’. Chaz Bono is on “Dancing With the Stars,” f’chrissakes!

I mostly want to cook, but I also have plenty of free time, being a professional unemployable whose tenuous grip on three part-time jobs depends upon my co-workers rarely having to deal with me in person.

And there was a time when I didn’t want to cook, mostly because I didn’t know how — nobody had ever taught me. When I was a kid, food showed up three times daily as if by magic. In college there were cafeterias. As a young journo’ I patronized restaurants, cadged meals from married colleagues or reheated ghastly frozen dinners.

I don’t recall the impetus, but eventually I taught myself to cook a few basic dishes — mostly soups and stews, one-pot meals that would have plenty of leftovers. I’ve branched out a bit over the years, tackling American, Asian, Italian, French and Mexican dishes, but my cookery remains fairly simple.

And yet even I sometimes find the process too laborious for words.

Now, granted, I tend to overdo. I roam all around town collecting mostly organic ingredients from Whole Foods, Ranch Foods Direct, Mountain Mama and Savory Spice Shop, occasionally scoring specialty items from the Santa Fe School of Cooking, Asia Pacific Market, the Colorado Farm & Art Market or Spencer’s Gardens.

I’ve acquired enough stainless pots and pans, cast-iron Dutch ovens, rice cookers, food processors, knives and cookbooks to open a very small and ultimately unsuccessful restaurant.

And I spend hours scouring the Innertubes for tasty treats like those served up in Martha Rose Shulman‘s New York Times column, Recipes for Health.

Thus, when sloth overcame me last evening I didn’t waddle out to the car for a quick trip to Mickey D’s. Instead, I consulted my refrigerator and pantry, then whipped up a simple Shulman dish — sautéed spinach with mushrooms — poured it over some al dente fusilli and sprinkled the lot with Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Now there’s a happy meal for you.

In the pink

The Vespa LX50
Il Douche remained parked today. Porca madonna!

I had hoped to take the Vespa out for a spin in honor of the Giro d’Italia, which began today with a team time trial, but it was not to be. It remained parked next to the lawnmower, which at least got rolled out of the garage and then rolled right back in without so much as a tug on its starter cord.

Those In Authority at VeloNews.com had thunk up a couple of new wrinkles they hadn’t told me much about until D-Day (the off-site contractor is always the last to know) and so the usual Saturday chores took just a wee bit longer today and involved several of the famous words that introduced George Carlin to the Supreme Court. The only two-wheeler I straddled, briefly, was human-powered, if you will concede that I am human, which is a subject of debate in some circles.

The fun continues tomorrow with a mostly flat stage that all agree practically has Mark Cavendish’s name spray-painted all over it. In the Manxman’s honor, however prematurely, I’m drinking beer instead of wine. We have a jug of Yellow Kite pilsner from the fine folks at Bristol Brewing, and a sixer of Red Chair NW Pale Ale from Deschutes Brewery, a longtime favorite here at the DogHaus.

We’re likely to need all of it to put out the fire from the tinga poblana I made last night. It’s a stew with chunks of pork, chorizo and chipotle chiles, and I think I put in a couple-three chiles too many, because the goddamn thing is nuclear. I’m surprised the leftovers didn’t burn their way straight through the bottom of the refrigerator and head straight for the earth’s core, which is only slightly hotter.