Keywords to Success
- acceleration
- focus
- determination
Due to unforeseen circumstances, I will be unable to write on this blog for an unknown length of time. Please try the recipes and continue to comment, as I will be able to check the internet but unable to post.
As a former CEO, I can tell you that food is a central component of closing any big deal. Sure, there are other components I choose not to discuss on this blog, but one can never underestimate the power of food to win over a prospective mate, colleague, or criminal. It has helped me win you, my loyal readers, and for that I am thankful. I can't tell you how flattered I was to get requests for more recipes. Me! Ted Earley, who used to never appreciate the hard work and dedication that went into making a good meal. Now, if I'm not a culinary genius, at least I can fill a void, right?
I'm equally eager to post another recipe because I just had an... interesting dining experience in what was supposed to be a secluded and upscale restaurant. By upscale I mean they are booked out decades in advance, their prix fixe tasting menu costs a good two hundred dollars more than it should, and their meals are so complicated they require no fewer than five servers for a two-person party. Now, I am not averse to such places. I am, however, averse to the obnoxious party of six that sat next to me, drowning out any attempt I had at making conversation with my friend. To top it off, they threatened to withhold a server's tip if he did not give his phone number to a female member of their party.
That is why I am cooking at home now. It can be just as effective as a business tool, it's cheaper, and there are no obnoxious drunk people abusing the servers. Well, at least not early in the evening.
It was my experience in business that Southerners really knew how to entertain in their own homes. So that's why I'm serving up a recipe for Chess Pie today. Never heard of it? I'm not surprised. It's little known outside certain parts of the country, and I'm pretty sure every American cardiologist has banned it. But here it is, just for you. Try it this holiday season and see how many, um, deals you can close.
Chess Pie
1 stick butter
1-1/2 C sugar (use brown for a darker pie, white for a lighter one, or feel free to mix it up)
1 T white vinegar
1-1/2 T corn meal
3 eggs, slightly beaten
1-1/2 t vanilla
dash of salt
dash of nutmeg
Pie shell (That's right. Ted Earley has no use for the uncertainties of pie crust.)
Melt the butter and let it cool. Otherwise, you will end up with scrambled eggs, and, while I have nothing against scrambled eggs, they don't do much for a sweet tooth. While the butter is cooling, sift together the sugar and the corn meal. Add the butter and mix. Then add everything else and mix it all together into a mystery mess.
Pour the mystery mess into the unbaked pie shell (no need to use deep dish here). And once again, I've forgotten to preheat the oven.
If you're me, preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Bake the pie for fifteen minutes at 425, wrapping the crust in foil if it's browning too quickly. Or burning your house down. Or something. After fifteen minutes, reduce heat to 300, then bake until almost set. This will take at least another thirty minutes, although I've had to leave it in for an hour before. No worries. It's worth it.
Last week, I misread a form and showed up at an appointment a few hours early. They were unable to change the time. A three-dollar theater next door was showing a couple of films, so I decided to step in and watch a movie (instead of going to a cafe, reading a book, reading the paper, reading the menu of said cafe, walking around, basically anything but a movie). Unfortunately, the only movie showing in my brief window of time was one about toy poodles on Fifth Avenue. I like dogs, so I thought this could be fun. I bought some popcorn (a “medium” sized tub which was roughly the size of a mop bucket). The number of consecutive bad life choices I made that afternoon should not astound you. I have, after all, spent some time paying for bad life choices.
The theater was very nearly empty; there were a few mothers with young children and no one there was alone. I suddenly felt very self-conscious. This movie was clearly not intended for my particular demographic. Thankfully, or not, the lights dimmed.
The accents in this movie are atrociously stereotypical and the special effects leave much to be desired. This is a fish out of water story and the plot is so easy that I heard a couple of infants predicting where the movie would go. And they were right.
I’ve never been able to walk out of movies; I made the conscious choice and paid the price, I will get what I came for if only for the air conditioning and popcorn. I believe I would look weird sitting outside on a park bench eating a mop bucket of movie theater popcorn.
Still, it is not lost on me that I have paid to feel like a broken man and for a moment I wished I were at one of the newer theaters, the kind that serve cocktails, but it’s a bad idea to meet with anyone at 3:30 PM drunk. I finished watching this movie and the other adults in the theater all had the same dead look in their eyes and the children were either asleep or echoing my internal monologue and screaming for the exits.
I’m no Gene Siskel, and I know that I am not the target audience for this movie in particular, but that does not mean I should not be able to see the point of art. I laughed out loud once at a kid’s show about a squeaky yellow sponge man that lives in the ocean, so I’m not prejudiced towards entertainment aimed at children. This is my first movie review and I cannot in good conscience recommend this movie to anyone.
As we approach the season of eggnog, family squabbles, and mass consumerism, it's important to focus on what really matters. That's right; I'm talking about the tricks retailers use to peddle their wares on Black Friday, the busiest shopping day of the year.
The term Black Friday originated in Philadelphia, when, the day after Thanksgiving, consumers would flock to stores, causing horrible traffic jams and foul moods. During the 1980s, a great many merchants objected to the term's negative connotation. So they did what any good salesman would do -- they changed its meaning. Since then, Black Friday has become synonymous with the time of year that stores definitively turn a profit, a.k.a. the time of year when stores are "in the black."
There are a great many myths surrounding Black Friday, the first being that it is not, in fact, the busiest shopping day of the year. It might be the seventh busiest shopping day of the year, or the second, but it is not the busiest shopping day of the year, in terms of actual sales. The busiest shopping day of the year, sales-wise, is almost always the Saturday before Christmas.
Another Black Friday myth is more a ploy than a myth, which even I have to admit is pretty clever. So clever that I wish I'd thought of it. But I didn't. Have you ever seen, maybe a month before Thanksgiving, a breaking headline that Black Friday deals have been leaked? Well, that's not some disgruntled employee out to destroy his confidentiality clause. No, that information is leaked by an insider to whet appetites for products. Fascinating, huh? Or is it only fascinating if you're an economist? Or me?
Well, here's one for you, if you don't care about press leaks. If you don't partake of this very special holiday, maybe you don't understand why people line up at zero o'clock in the morning to snipe, push, and trash-talk each other. I'll tell you why. One word. Doorbusters. Or maybe that's two words. Does it have a dash? Anyway, doorbusters are supply and demand at its best. Retailers advertise an item everyone wants for a special price. The catch? They only have a few. Come early, try to get that very special item at that very special price, but if you don't, stay awhile, buy some more stuff. Everyone's happy.
Regardless of all this mystique, all this strategy and spin and traffic, I'm going to be first in line at my local mall. I have decided to start a new tradition since my time away. I'm going to get there as early as possible, be polite to everyone I see, but I am going to get as many doorbusters as I can as quickly as I can.
Then I'm going to donate them to a charity of my choice. What's that? You think I have a good heart? Actually, it has more to do with the fact that I get really discouraged every time a new gaming system comes out and I can't seem to get the hang of it. I may or may not have thrown a couple of them out the window, and why do that, when I can just give the item to someone who will treat it better than I will?
Whatever you buy, for whomever you buy it, have a safe and happy Black Friday.
I have a question for you loyal readers out there. Feel free to be honest in your responses. I don't judge. Here is what's weighing on my mind:
Is it ever a good idea to get back together with an ex-significant other?
Think on this, and let me know. I look forward to your thoughts.
Well, good people, its Election Night here in the United States of America. While some people have to work late solving crime, others, like myself, are glued to the television. Granted, Wednesday night is my normal television night -- gets me through "Hump Day" as it were. I love trying to piece together a crime along with the detectives, although some of them are just too clever for me to keep up.
Anyway, tonight is Tuesday, Election Night, and here I am, watching the tube with a beer in one hand and tortilla chips in the other. Don't worry -- the salsa's on the table with its friend guacamole.
As I'm watching the returns come in, and realizing the record numbers of voters turning up at their polling places (most of them grumpy at being caught on camera in their pajamas), I just want to say to all of you who voted, thank you. I don't care who you voted for, I just care that you showed up, probably either in sweatpants and bedhead or in your maybe pressed/maybe not work clothes. You want to see the diversity in this country, check out your local polling place -- the kid casting her first vote, the hungover frat boy, the woman with her walker, the pissed-off guy in a suit who can't believe HE has to wait in line. All welcome pictures on this Election Day.
After all, we might be nervous, hungover, annoyed, hungry, or impatient, but we're still exercising one of our most important rights. Now if only someone would realize guacamole should be a right...
We're fast approaching one of my favorite holidays. No, not Halloween. I gave that up when I stopped getting candy. Or maybe it was when I got chased by a chainsaw-toting werewolf at Universal Studios' Halloween Horror Nights...
Regardless, Thanksgiving will be here in the blink of an eye, and I, for one, am eagerly awaiting that day, a day when I can partake in more than my fair share of poultry, Scotch, and football. The best thing about Thanksgiving? You don't have to buy anyone a gift. You just get to eat and drink without spending money on bad ties, new cell phones, or lingerie you can never get your wife to wear.
I have always been a fan of Thanksgiving, just as I've always been a fan of cigars, money, and making more money to buy more cigars. When I was married to Deb, we would always end up at her sister's house. Now don't get me wrong, her sister was a great cook, but toward the end, when Deb was always complaining that I never helped her out around the house, I decided it was my turn to start contributing. Deb's sister always made everything herself, from scratch. Everything from the mashed potatoes to the whipped cream. She didn't want anyone else in her kitchen. However, Deb twisted her arm, and her sister said she guessed it would be okay if I brought broccoli casserole, as long as I didn't need to get near her oven.
I know you must be thinking, Ted Earley, former CEO, making broccoli casserole? Fine. It's a bit of a lowbrow dish, I'll give you that. But the recipe was so easily accessible at my neighborhood grocery store, and the mushroom soup label made it sound both simple to make and delicious.
It was not simple. Nor was it delicious. In fact, it was so bad that Deb's relatives, who tried to be polite, even scared the dog away when they tried to pass off their helpings (in secret, of course) to him. That dog hates Thanksgiving now. I ruined a patriotic holiday for a perfectly good canine. And maybe my ex in-laws, but I'm less concerned about them.
After my return from semi-retirement, I vowed to never ruin another Thanksgiving. And how do you make sure you will never ruin another Thanksgiving? You learn to cook. Sure, there will be fights and bickering and tension and veiled insults, but if there's good food, nothing else matters.
So between now and Thanksgiving, I'll be posting some of my favorite recipes up here. If I can learn, you can, too. Let's start with the simplest (and my personal favorite category, besides Scotch... wait, is that a food group? No? Fine Appetizers.
This artichoke dip is the very first thing I learned to make. It's got cheese, it's got heavy cream, there's no way you can make it taste bad. And if you do, well, you're your own brand of special. Now, let's get cooking.
Earley Times No-Fail Artichoke Dip
Ingredients:
1-1/2 cans artichokes (NOT marinated, unless you want to ruin your cooking rep), chopped and drained
1 onion, diced
2 cups mozzarella cheese
Mix the artichokes, onions, and mozzarella cheese together. With your hands. It's equal parts soothing and disgusting. Pour into a greased baking dish (I use two nine-inch pie pans, or whatever you have that holds the mixture). This is your basis for the dip.
Now, moving on...
1 pint of whipping cream
2 egg whites
1 egg
3/4 tsp. salt
dash of pepper
dash of nutmeg
Whisk all these things together. If you don't have a whisk, go buy one. Now. When you're done buying/whisking, pour this mixture over the artichoke mixture from above. Sprinkle the whole thing with two handfuls of freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Then, if you're like me, realize you've forgotten to preheat the oven.
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Bake the dip for at least an hour, until it's browned on top. Serve with vegetables, crackers, or anything. That's right. Anything tastes good with this dip.
Enjoy.
