Had a slight issue with Intense Debate not loading properly onto this blog. Finally got it fixed ... I think ....
Ironically, Dr. Death died in a hospital bed of a blood clot. I suppose the good Catholic thing to do would be to pray for his soul and refrain from speculating where in the hereafter it has gone ... the poor, misguided man.
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For Memorial Day, my older brother, Ted, fixed carne adovada. For those of you not lucky enough to have lived in New Mexico, carne adovada is pork marinated in a chile-based sauce, then slow-cooked until it's ready to fall apart. You can serve it in tacos, burritos, fajitas or enchiladas. One cafe in Lewisville (TX) puts it on hash browns, then puts eggs, chiles and cheese over it like a Village Inn skillet ... marvelous breakfast dish! And because it's tender enough to pull apart easily, you can make a pulled pork sandwich out of it. My brother and I are trying to think of a way to bake it inside bread, like a Runza or a calzone.
Since the recipe for carne adovada has as many variations as there are cooks, if you go looking for it, find one that has a long marinade time (12-24 hours) and preferably calls for real New Mexico chiles. Here's a link to a recipe on the New Mexico tourism website, and a link to AllRecipes.com.
Speaking of good eats, I have to find out how my sister-in-law, Annette, gets the caramel in her brownies. Yum! Yeah, I didn't do so hot on my diet Monday .... Like I said before, of all the cardinal sins, gluttony is the hardest to hide.
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My uncle John, an Army vet, sent my family and me a story of a ceremony that takes place in a corridor of the Pentagon.
Every Friday, several soldiers who have been wounded in combat are led — often pushed in wheelchairs — down this corridor to meet with the generals for a private lunch. They're usually privates, corporals and sergeants, but they're each escorted by a field-grade officer (major, lieutenant colonel, colonel) in dress blues. And as they come down this corridor, Pentagon workers from all over line the hall and applaud non-stop. (The photo at right is from one such ceremony.)
Every Friday, since 2007. Men and women who have come from their offices dozens of times for this ceremony still get teary-eyed. Sometimes the soldiers get out of their chairs and slowly, haltingly march past the cheering people, their chins firm with martial dignity.
As my sister, a former Army Reserve captain who now works for the Marines at Quantico, puts it, "The 'faceless bureaucrat' reputation [of the Pentagon] has never been deserved." The Navy, Marines and Air Force all have their different ways of honoring servicepersons at the Pentagon; the place may be brass-heavy, but they live and breathe for the rankers.
Speaking of ex-Army relatives, my cousin Greg, who's now a travel agent, is taking a cruise to Iceland. To get ready for the trip, he has memorized one Icelandic phrase: