Osler's Razor

1) Hydraulic Food Defenestrator (Sur La Table, $110)

Who doesn’t love lobster? The challenge, of course, is the struggle to remove the meat from the shell. For years, I wrestled with this task, trying every method possible: Digging at it with my kitchen spade, scraping at the shell with a lobster trowel, and even firing explosives at it from a safe distance using my pantry mortar. All have proved ineffective.

Finally, I found the perfect solution: The Hydraulic Food Defenstrator, which gently lobs the ungainly crustacean out of an open window onto the pavement. While proper defenestration takes good aim and certain attributes of the space (adequate room and an open window), the results are fun, efficient, and quite the spectacle! I love to have the whole family run outside to gather up the lobster meat. Best used on the tenth floor or lower.

2) Hardwood Handle Kitchen Spade (Target, $11)

With portion sizes growing and kitchen staples like flour and hummus now coming in gigantic sacks at places like Costco and Sam’s Club, even small families find that they need a sturdy four-foot kitchen spade on a daily basis. Target’s version is well weighted and designed, yet tough enough to fling even tough-to-handle products like chick peas and capers. When it is time to shovel it on, there is nothing like a kitchen spade!

3) Turkey Lanyard (Williams-Sonoma, $45)

Every year, more people come around to the benefits of slaughtering a live turkey at home for the ultimate in freshness. One problem with this, of course, is finding a handy way to hang the turkey upside-down once the head has been removed while continuing to work on the remainder of your meal. The ingenious Turkey Lanyard is a great solution: a strap at the end of the lanyard wraps around Mr. Gobbler’s feet, allowing the turkey blood to drain in the proper position. Best of all, it leaves both hands free to continue your prep work or whip up drinks for your guests.

The Turkey Lanyard comes in white, teal, and red, but we found the last of these to be the most practical.

4) Re-Pita Food Regenerator (Ronco, $12.99)

With pita bread prices going through the roof, everyone is trying to find an economical way to re-use stale or unpalatable pitas. The Food Regenerator is just the right tool for the job. A foot-square stainless steel box operated with a single button, it gently mists your pita back into freshness. Mine also came with a somewhat perplexing attachment that apparently is designed to dry out the wet pita by flinging it in a circle, a somewhat messy proposition akin to being sprayed by a wet dog.

We found that while the Food Regenerator did a great job with pita, the results were less satisfying when we tried it out with crème brule and a forgotten strip of mutton.

5) Sturgeon Lance (J. Peterman Kitchens, $230)

The freshest caviar is kind you remove from the fish yourself shortly before serving your delighted guests. The new Sturgeon Lance is an age-old solution to a very modern problem. Using a few simple tools, the Lance attaches to the sliding side door of any minivan. Once it is secured, you simply drive the van towards your accomplice, who flings the live fish at the right moment to remove the roe. We found that it takes a bit of practice to get things just right, but once the learning period is over the Sturgeon Lance will be a tool you reach for every time you entertain!

6) Embroidered Chicken Thong (Victoria’s Secret, $25)

Is it just me, or is there something vaguely embarrassing about a beautifully cooked chicken fresh out of the oven, sticking its butt up in the air like a hussy? One elegant way to avoid this awkward moment is with the new Chicken Thong, which is produced in three sizes and is even oven-safe. Though they are a bit pricey for a single-use item, this splurge is worth it.

Things have gone well in Dallas. The team has a round against Univ. of Houston this morning, and if they win they probably will be in the finals this afternoon. They have done an excellent job.

On the other hand, I have been somewhat of an oaf. Last night we went out to dinner at Oceanaire, a wonderful seafood restaurant north of town. At the conclusion of the meal, I was expressing some amazement at GED3's awesome "I passed the bar" personal intake, which consisted of:

- various vegetables
- a towering array of appetizers, including a lobster
- a tray of escargot
- two slices of bread, with butter
- a crab cake,
- a 10 oz filet mignon, served with
- yet another whole lobster
- scalloped potatoes au gratin
- asparagus
- shells and cheese
- baked alaska
- fudge brownie
- ice cream
- creme brulee, and
- (some claimed) part of Martha May's napkin.

It really was an awesome display of eating prowess. At the end of my oral summary of his meal, I offered up my pretty-good impression of Fat Albert's catchphrase, a throaty (and maybe too loud) "Hey-heyyyy-heeyyyyy!"

The problem was that right as I delivered this (and without my noticing), the woman at the next table had gotten up and started to leave the restaurant. It appears that I let loose with my too-loud "Hey-heyyyy-heeyyyyy!" at the precise moment she began walking. As she passed, she gave me the most incredible, thorough, horrified look of disgust I have ever received. It was a Hall-of-Fame look of disgust, the kind that can only be delivered by a 40ish Dallas socialite who has just been given the Fat Albert treatment in a nice restaurant.

I kind of hoped that I was the only one who saw that look, but... well, there's a few students who now will have some quality material for discussions of cloddish professors.

The ironic, and perhaps scary, thing is that the woman who shot me "The Look" was in great shape (you probably have seen the type)-- tall, straight blond hair, angular, carrying at most 125 pounds over a 5' 10" frame presented in a silk shirt and tights. I'm pretty sure she has been on a treadmill continuously since "The Look," guessing my name and then cursing it.

So, here's to you, near-anorexic Dallas socialite who will relive that moment in her nightmares!

And, to the enterprising Baylor student who immediately captured my Fat Albert impersonation to use as a cell phone ringtone.

This is where I lived my third year of law school-- 43 Sound View Ave. in Madison, Connecticut. It was probably the most beautiful house I will ever inhabit. We had about an acre of land right on Long Island Sound, with a little beach next door and those big rocks jutting out into the ocean. Every night I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean, and would walk on the beach at dusk.

On Friday nights, we often had big dinner parties, and would invite our friends out from New Haven. We'd dance. But that came long after the food (bluefish from the Sound, or duck, or once, lobster, always with salads and fresh bread) and the wine and the laughter.

The last weekend before graduation, about this time of year, we had the biggest party of all. People brought their thesis papers and we burned them in a bonfire near the beach and sang a thesis-burning song we made up. Everyone stayed very very late, and in those late hours we were listening to this song:


It was just the right song, at just the right time. We danced with our friends, not lovers, people we had shared something wonderful with-- thrown together, everyone feeling like the admission department's mistake, then left to read and to talk about important things and to learn from brilliant, eccentric men and women. We didn't have grades, really, but we worked hard because to not have an answer in class would show that someone did not belong, and might not fulfill their mission of fate in a world hungry for change and passion, a world that needed us (and needs you).

We would change partners every song. At this point, the woman I was dancing with (a willowy philosopher) said, "that's what this is-- this is Avalon." And she was right, of course. That song is marked by that beautiful place, that one perfect moment of celebration, and each time I hear it I go there.

So today, let's haiku about places and the songs that remind us of those places:

I hear that song, it's
Where the samba takes me
Avalon, the coast.

Now, you go...

1) She has an enormous 140-pound dog.
2) She's a Unitarian, but apparently not scared off by the God-talk on here.
3) Her husband is a Luthier, and pretty good at Haiku.
4) She had lobster Newburg for her 3-year-old birthday party.
5) She also has a son named Spencer, who hangs with a buddy who goes by "Donut."
6) Her house blew up, and she still has a good attitude.
7) Now (after the whole exploding-house thing) she lives in a red van down by the river.

If I had liked Rome even a little, your haiku would have made me miss it:

Lobster,cognac and
Pasta.Where is my recipe?
Firenze, I smell

Christmas cooking.Faces
Of the hungry birds yearning
For sustenance.

In her nightdress Mama
Drinks cappuccino.Papa 
Reaches for her hand.

They have been married
For so long they cannot 
Imagine sleep solo.

Wow!

We got a beauty from Holly Collison-- I was so glad to see her here, and loved this one:

Humongous lobster
Knocked on the door with his kid
Halloween dad win!

Christine maybe lives in a haunted forest:

The woods are scary
In the dark of the night, no
one dares to enter

~*~*~*~*

I buy some candy
just in case someone shows up
More Reese's for me

IPLawGuy does not:

Kids took a new route
Had to miss house with chili
and beer for adults

Jill Scoggins went all-in!:

My dog's bee costume
was a hit: Kids loved the stinger
on his little butt!

And Susan Stabile had a lack of action:

It made me so sad:
Only six trick-or-treaters.
Lots of candy left.