Pointless recipe: Mediterranean spice rub

Now that the weather is nicer (ha, it went from 80º to 60º in less than 24 hours, I love you, Oregon!), our thoughts have turned to barbecue.

Oh, wait. I mean "grilling." Barbecue in the Pacific Northwest is a completely different beast than barbecue basically anywhere else.

Anyway. Once upon a time, when I was young and fresh and hopeful, barbecuing meant marinading meat overnight and then letting Eric cook the crap out of it. We've both learned a thing or two over the course of our 20 year relationship, one of which is this:

Marinades are hard.

I mean, not the mixing and the pouring, obviously, but the remembering to get my act together the night before. I get distracted by books a lot. Fast forward to 2005-ish when I discovered the ease and beauty that is a spice rub.

It's totally genius--you mix your herbs and spices and whatnots together, and then right before you put your meat on the grill, you pour olive oil over the whole ordeal and sprinkle with the rub. And then rub it in! There's no remembering to do anything the night before. There's no preplanning involved at all.

It's like the best thing that's ever happened to me. (Um, besides coffee, Eric and the kids, of course.)

Source

This is the recipe I have been making for literally nine years running. I always have a jar of this in my pantry. I have given jars of it for gifts. I have put it on beef, fish, pork, chicken and potatoes.

I have adapted it--I don't do very well with ultra-salty anything, so I've cut back on that quite a bit, plus I believe in lots of herbs--but this is essentially what was published in my beloved Everyday Food Magazine*, which is now defunct, and the world poorer for it.

My notes in parenthesis because I can.

Mediterranean All-purpose Spice Rub
Makes approximately 1 1/4 cups

1-2 tablespoons coarse salt (original recipe calls for 1/3 cup. Holy shit!)
1/4 cup packed light brown sugar (I always buy dark because hello, it's delicious)
1/4 cup paprika
1-2 tablespoons ground black pepper
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon dried thyme
1 tablespoon dried tarragon
1 tablespoon dried marjoram
1 tablespoon dried basil
1 tablespoon dried rosemary
(P.S. if you're missing some of these herbs, who cares? Just add more of something you have. Trust me, it will work out just fine)

Place all of that in a jar and blend well. (You might have to use your fingers, it's okay, I won't tell.) Store in airtight container away from heat and light, up to six months. (Like it'll last that long.)

To use: Rub whatever it is you're cooking with oil, then sprinkle on some rub, then rub it into the meat (or not) and then grill. Or bake. Or broil. Or roast. Or pan fry. You can't lose.

The end. You're welcome.

*The magazine article listed variations, of which this is one. The link doesn't show those, unfortunately. But hey, we do what we can.

What Johanna did on Sunday

Johanna and her first quilt

What I've learned parenting Johanna for the past 9.5 years: Adventure happens. Fairly regularly. In all forms.

She and Eric have a routine on Sunday mornings, which is essentially: They get up early and watch Sunday Morning on CBS. Eric actually sets his alarm; Johanna is a naturally early riser, especially if it's a weekend. (Ha.)

So that's what I walked into yesterday, just innocently searching for a cup of coffee. (Cracked open the Mountain Thunder, Ann. It's lovely. Thank you.) Johanna wanted to snuggle. Then she wanted a blanket. Then she wanted to MAKE a blanket.

I have a box of quilting supplies that I haven't touched in probably six years. (Which reminds me, Mom, I have some lovely material I think you need to go through, and what you don't want, I'll rummage.) Johanna is a big fan of getting into this box periodically when a sewing bug hits. A couple of months ago she tried making a sock for her American Girl doll (one sock. It's Johanna). This time, she was searching for longer, larger material, but most of my stuff is fat quarters, so she ended up with a couple of pieces she wanted to sew together. She cut the thread and started making a go of it, but the thread was much too long and all that really happened was a bunch of tangles.

Well, I don't have a sewing machine, or I'd have set her up on that. But I do have some 18-year-old fusible tape that I bought when Eric and I were newlyweds and I wanted to "make" curtains for our bedroom. Ahem. They turned out terrible. Who cares, I was 23 and thought I was a genius, moving right along.

P.S. I used that tape to make Johanna's Halloween costume. We do what we can.

Anyway, I set her up with the fusible tape and after a quick tutorial on how to use it (including how to iron... I mean, she's nine and a half, that's totally old enough to brandish around a steaming hot small appliance, right?), she was off and running. She had it so down that I just stepped aside and started making muffins, near so if she needed me I'd be accessible, but giving her space if she didn't need me after all.

She didn't need me. :)

After the blanket part was complete, she decided it was time for embellishment. "I'll never be a tailor," she mused several times as she cut the tape to fit her tiny pieces, but I assured her that if she ever did take that route, she'd be on a machine, which would be a thousand times easier and faster than using fusible tape.

"This went much better than my sock," she said when it was all done. "I mean, that didn't even fit, and it was just for my American Girl doll."

Practice is everything, sweeting. And socks are hard.

So yeah, this is not really what I wanted to do on my Sunday, but she was so dang happy. I've discovered that when her creative juices are flowing, it's best to just go with it. Because being told you can't create when that's all you want to do? Is mean. (Says the compulsive writer.)

And her Grandma M. and Aunt Jan are going to be SO PROUD.

The Continuing Adventures of Cranky Steve

It's been a while since I've written a Cranky Steve update, that crazy character, and let me tell you, that's unfortunate because there's a lot of movement on that front. For one thing (update #1), he's retiring the end of June. He says that July 1 he's going to sit outside the office in lawn chair and drink a cocktail and stare at us through the window (totally not creepy AT ALL), but we all know that when he leaves that last day, we will never see him again.

(Update #2) Steve is depressed because his pet raccoons are no longer coming around and he's pretty sure that has something to do with global warming. Except I don't think he really believes in global warming. Whatevs, I told him it's probably not that, just that he tamed them to the point of insanity and they might have gone into someone else's house and that got them shot. He says maybe, but coyotes are big fans of raccoon dinner, so that could be it, too.

Or, even more upbeat, he thinks maybe his babies got poisoned. Regardless of how they met their untimely demise, he misses them. Well, he's got one, anyway, that lives under his porch, so that's a plus.

Which brings us to (update #3/rant #1) his unshakable belief that raccoons in the Pacific Northwest do not have rabies. Everyone is idiotic who believes otherwise (um, that would be me). And! Bats also do not have rabies in our neck of the woods, either. We're like a rabies-free zone. I suggested that maybe taming bats could be his next project, but he said that he doesn't have any. Too bad. We have bats at our house (they live in our poplar trees), but I am A) not going to tame them or 2) let Steve anywhere near them.

Fun fact: I love our bats. I love watching them swoop around at dusk. And they eat bugs. Yay bats!

Source.
Probably NOT what we have living in our trees. But SO CUTE.

Lastly (update #4, I told you there was a lot of movement on the Steve front), he likes telling me about a certain brand of organic ketchup sold at a certain downtown grocery. It's so potent you only need one little drop of the stuff per tater tot! So the other day, he brings me a bottle. Actually, he brought me all kinds of stuff, to show me, I assumed, but he insisted I keep the ketchup. I was all, why are you giving me ketchup? and he was like, try it and if you don't like it, you can give it back, but if you do, you can pay me the $5. Then I was like, so you want my used ketchup?, but Steve is a hard man to crack. He just smiled and acted like we were finally getting somewhere with the understanding.

So the other evening we had burgers for dinner, and that ketchup? Is delicious. So I was like, Steve, I have your five! And he was seriously very excited that I had tried it, and that it was A Big Hit, and then laughed when I told him Johanna liked it so much that she had two bun / ketchup / cheese / lettuce "burgers" when the meat ran out.

And then he suggested that I go buy a case because the lady who owns the downtown grocery is threatening to sell and move on to other things. Dude, I got a website. I'll take my chances.

So that's the Continuing Adventures of Cranky Steve. Maybe more later.