Tomato Bountycl. panic, lycopene wrangler and guest blogger

High tomato season is upon us at the Panic household. Just this weekend, a bounty of Iraqi and Turkish tomatoes graduated from the school of ripe. (And I remember when they were just seedlings, mere overage from GTMcG's exotic tomato sprouting endeavors).

The ones with the stripes are called Turkish Striped Monastery, and supposedly there

are some "Pinks" hidden in that bowl. The plants that sprouted these fine specimens now stand over six feet tall! We are happy to report that the Iraqi Al Kufa plants have also borne fruit, though they did end up requiring cages in spite of GTMcG's emphatic pleading to let them roam free.

The days of the seedlings are now the distant past. Ms. Panic is now faced with a bowl full of red tomatoes and vines still covered with more green juveniles. Greek salads and bruschetta await!

(We have been hit with some blossom end rot this season; not sure if the water softener is to blame. Next year, we'll supplement with calcium just in case.)

Happy Birthday to Wah Toh!

Dear Wah Toh,

Normally, for birthdays, I find a nice cake and post it on the blog.  However, I feel that fish ball noodle soup is the best thing for you.  You (and I) would love it much more than a piece of cake.  The problem is, I haven't been able to find a picture of the kind of fish ball noodle soup that Uncle Ball used to make.  You know, the kind where the soup is clear and fresh, there are pits of cilantro floating on the top.  The noodles lurking under the surface whispered, "Eat me, eat me!"  The best part was the fish balls.  Uncle Ball's fish ball noodle soup had sliced fish balls, and each slice was lightly fried.  That is the key, people, but nobody seems to take the time to make it like that anymore.

So here's my birthday wish for you:  I wish that you will have a wonderful time at the next reunion where you can make Uncle Ball-style fish ball noodle soup!  Here, instead of a cake, I've assembled the main ingredients for you.

Chicken (for broth)
Fish balls
Cilantro
"River" rice noodles
My hands (I'll help!)

nn

Radio Classics

Okay, here's a quiz.  Guess what I was listening to on the radio:

(Winner gets nothing.)

IKEA Lunch

A few weeks ago, Green Thumbs McGillicutty and I went to IKEA for lunch. Below is a picture of our trays. Can you tell which tray is GTM's and which tray is Nonny's?

Happy Birthday to Man From U.N.C.L.E.!

Man From U.N.C.L.E.!  Long time no see!  I hope you and your little brother are doing well, and that Shaft is also doing well.  We miss you here at the Warren!  To help you on your spy path, I have chosen a bomb cake for you!  Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to Skillet!

OH, Skilly!!  My little Skilly girl...!  Here's a little fish cake for you, little one.  I hope you'll like it but I know you won't.  You're a little finicky eater and only like dry cat food, and dry fish.  I love you, though.  I'm glad I bailed you out of jail.

Lobster Safari (and Wedding)

This weekend, I went on a lobster safari. The lobster's natural habitat is on the East Coast, and one of the best known lobster preserves is located in and around the town of Boston. Green Thumbs and L. Woods accompanied me on this quest, but L. Woods arrived a day early to scope out the place.

GTM and I flew from San Jose to Boston, careful to sit in non-adjacent seats so as not to tip off the lobsters. Lobsters are very sensitive creatures and often detect trouble with their long antennae. This was my first lobster safari but I did my homework in advance, mostly in the form of daydreaming about the moment when I would meet my first lobster face to face, antennae to ears, mano y mano.

The morning of the safari, GTM and I woke up at the crack of dawn (9-ish) and prepared ourselves physically to confront the feisty lobster. I ran on the treadmill, and GTM read a book about a girl who kicked the hornet's nest (presumably in case we encounter any hornets on the way to the lobster lair). L. Woods felt that the best way to prepare for the safari was to go back to sleep for another hour.

During that hour, GTM and I warmed up and each purchased a lobster roll next door at the James Hook Lobster Aquarium. Here's what it looked like:

Look at the chunks of lobster in that baby!

Then, it was time to go on the actual hunt. We took a 30 minute ferry to The Lobster Island, attended Cl. Panic's and A-dog's beautiful wedding ceremony, and were led to a table of lobster torture instruments. When our table was called, I shot up like a rocket and stealthily slithered over to the lobster lair. Upon reaching the lair, I pointed at an unsuspecting lobster and exclaimed, "I'll take that one!" He didn't know what hit him!

I slung the slain lobster over my shoulder and dragged it back to our table. There, I eschewed the instruction sheet and relied purely on my predatory instincts to take apart the beast, limb by limb.

Afterward, we all enjoyed a wonderfully timed sunset.

The Nus wish Cl. Panic and A-dog much happiness and contentment in their life together!