fake smoked salmon sandwich

Everything is apparently fake nowadays. The news is fake, science is fake, happy cat videos are faked, celebrity births are fake, and so on. So we decided to get in on the action, with this fake smoked salmon sandwich. It’s not actually smoked, but it’s ability to fill your body with delicious food will surely be the most realistic part of your day. So climb aboard our mystical journey, in a life where apparently nothing is more fake than the quest to determine your place in this currently destructive world. Wait, what? Let’s begin!

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fake smoked salmon sandwich

 

1 pound salmon filet

olive oil

salt & pepper

1 tsp Old Bay

1 tsp smoked paprika

1 tsp crushed red pepper

1/3 cup mayonnaise

1 tbsp capers

1 tbsp tightly packed fresh dill or 1/2 tbsp dried

fresh lime juice

onion, chopped

toasted bread, sliced

basil leaves, chopped

tomato, sliced

arugula leaves

 

preheat the oven to 350 degrees, brush the salmon filet with olive oil, dust with salt & pepper, and sprinkle with juice of 1/2 lime

in a small bowl mix Old Bay, smoked paprika, crushed red pepper and rub over the salmon

wrap the salmon in foil, place the foil in a roasting pan, and bake for 15 minutes

increase the oven heat to 450 degrees, unroll the foil to expose the salmon and bake for 5 more minutes

while baking the salmon, in a small bowl mix the mayo, capers, dill, 1/2 lime juice

in a small skillet add 1 tbsp olive oil, add chopped onion and cook to your desired brownness and caramelization

to make the sandwich, spread the mixed mayo on the bread, add cut salmon filets, top with onions, basil, tomato, and arugula

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After you’ve mixed up the spices, pat them into the salmon.  The oil and lime juice you’ve brushed it with will allow the grains of goodness to stick to the salmon flesh.  Smoked paprika is the top ingredient here.  I’ve used paprika since the beginning of my cooking journey but have only recently discovered smoked paprika.  It has so many delightful uses.

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After 15 minutes in the oven the salmon is mostly cooked, but we now open the foil to expose it to the increased heat.  This will allow your spice blend to brown considerably.  Note the difference visually, I assure you the taste difference is even better.

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Salmon is just about the most criminally easy thing to cook.  So quick to do, and yet so delicious.  I get the idea that salmon was one of those softballs God tossed to humanity after creation.  We basically got left with war, pestilence, turmoil, and an ingrained desire to destroy ourselves.  So God was like: oh, sorry, eh, uh, hmm, okay, here’s salmon.

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The mayo gets mixed up briefly with the capers, dill, and lime juice.  The onion is extra credit, you don’t need to do it if you don’t want.  The greens and tomato just get thrown right on there.  Use your bread of choice.  I went with sourdough, but any good bread will do.  Just flake the salmon to fit the size of the bread.

It’s a quick dish for a weeknight, that’s mostly healthy, and well worth your time.

Enjoy life.

meet Dennis Rodman, arbiter of dictator flesh

Once upon a time, while the Dodo still walked the Earth, when dinosaurs munched on greenery not laced with cadmium, when Democrats and Republicans could break bread together without drawing derringers, came the dawn of this nonsense blog.

And lo, did we thus in one of our very first posts encourage Dennis Rodman to break the neck of Kim Jong Un, Overlord & Dictator of the North Korean people.

Sadly, Rodman didn’t take us up on our offer of eternal glory for all mankind. And yet, all these years later he’s back. For some reason.

This morning Kim’s goons released a comatose young American who was foolish enough to travel to North Korea, and got arrest and infected with botulism for his troubles. I think it says all you need to know about North Korea’s status that one of their most high profile capital prisoners can get infected with botulism.

So you can laugh at Rodman all you want, or criticize his visit, but at least he got this poor dude released. Which is apparently more than all the resources of the American government can do.

So maybe Rodman just does these visits to set somebody free every once and a while? I mean, Rodman’s a joke, so the visit is meaningless to his otherwise trashed reputation. So what does he care what people think of him as long as he gets somebody out of jail? Eh, maybe I’m giving Rodman too much credit. Maybe he just likes the sack full of emeralds carved in a forced labor camp that Kim will give him after they play h.o.r.s.e. and Rodman lets Kim win after three rounds.

But at any rate, Rodman still has it in his power to become the hero we always wanted him to be. Rodman clocks in at six foot seven and 220. Kim clocks in at negative Napoleon and 420. It’s just about the most one sided fight you can imagine.

It’d be like if you pit Andre the Giant against Hitler in an MMA fight. They’d be picking Hitler out of the fence for weeks. For the young uninitiated, Andre the Giant was in the original Mission Impossible series where he played Boris, a seven foot four Soviet agent who had steel teeth and wore this top hat thingy he could throw like a Frisbee to decapitate people.

Seriously though, think of the legendary status that awaits Rodman if he carries out our wishes. Think of how famous the guy who killed Hitler would have been? He or she would be on the lips of schoolchildren for all time. This sounds right up Rodman’s alley.

Dennis, friend, there’s still time. We’re counting on you.

warm up walk in the Beijing airport during layover, with Drowning Pool blaring through the terminal speakers

the Giant Octopi are pleased

So I’m on a 737 full of live humans bound for Chicago Midway.  We’re all getting settled in for a quite brief flight of only two hours.  The flight attendant makes her usual announcements and then casually mentions that the aircraft wifi is not working.

About 1/3 of the plane gasps in frustration or offers a bunch of “ohh”s.  Kind of like if you’re at a hockey game, and the home team fires a shot that just misses and clangs off the pipe, and the whole hometown crowd yells “ohh”.  That’s what the plane sounded like.

I shook my head, and continued to read my paper magazine who’s design was originally modeled in 1632.  Apparently folks can’t do without access to the Internets for a whole two hours.  The Giant Octopi are pleased.  They’ve got humanity wrapped around their little finger.

At the time of this incident, Bezos, Zucky, and all the other Giant Octopi goons suddenly got the urge to smile.  They didn’t know why, but I did.

Gee wiz people, read a book, talk to somebody, stare at the back of the tray table and let your mind wander.  Anything at all will do.  But do please unplug from time to time.

destroy selfie sticks, ask somebody instead

It’s close to summer, so the selfie sticks have emerged from hibernation with glorious abandon.  Even your dog(s) is in on the action.  They used the selfie stick to take a photo of them attempting to kidnap the partially cut meat off your kitchen counter.  Or so the online video prophets have told me.

I simply have never understood the selfie stick.  Instead of asking a kind passerby to take a picture of you, your friends and family, and said local landmark?  No, no, you can just do it yourself with this partial makeshift club thingy.  Why not just ask somebody for help instead?

My photography (and I take this word very loosely) is amateur garbage hour.  So you can take my opinion as the garbage it is.  But to me, selfie stick shots are the worst thing on the planet.  The human always takes up too much of the frame, the angles are weird, the resolution on cell phone cameras remains crap, and it just doesn’t look natural.

All of this for what?  So folks don’t have to talk to another human being?  Hasn’t online death spiral of human contact taken us far enough down the non-contact-outside-our-own-personal-bubbles-realm?  Why do we need yet another reason not to talk to another human we don’t know.

Destroy selfie sticks.  Ask somebody instead.  Let them take a picture of your special moment.  Let them laugh with you at how awesome it is.  Share the moment.  Actually get a good shot you can remember.  What do you have to lose?

Milwaukee – Oscar’s

So what does one do after they’ve hiked seven miles, were already tired to begin with, and just want a good meal and few beers before an early bed? Well, you plan ahead and plot a stop between hiking and the hotel at a place that is consistently on every top ten burger list for all of Wisconsin.

And you get Oscar’s

1712 West Pierce Street Milwaukee, WI 53204

http://www.oscarsonpierce.com/

They have awesome burgers. They have dozens of draft beers. They have a great atmosphere. I got in there late afternoon. There was one white-collar office party, one blue-collar office party, a reception for elderly veterans, and a bunch of random folks like me. All were smiling and having fun. Oscar was helping the employees everywhere. Everybody was enjoying themselves.

I got The Big O, because if you’re in a place so highly recommended, you get the flagship menu option. It did not disappoint. This is a really great burger. And it’s a superb place. Parking is available in their own lot. And you should go.

contemplating Sean Bean’s imminent demise

Sean Bean partially narrates this game I’m playing and it got me chuckling.  Once upon a time folks got to see Sean Bean brutally decapitated in Game of Thrones (that show I no longer watch).  This was the first of many main character deaths in that horror fetish of a series.  But at the time folks tried to rationalize what had just occurred.  I specifically remember saying to my brother, “It’s that much more dramatic because it’s Sean Bean.”

Wait, what?  That’s probably one of the dumber things I’ve ever said.  And man, do I spout some dumb shit.

For you see, Sean Bean does in fact die in everything he’s in.

And here’s even a Funny Or Die skit where Sean expresses his desire for a piranha based doom.

Sean Bean is only 58 years old, but perchance before he hits 60, he’ll be attacked by aliens.  They won’t come to conquer Earth, they’ll just come for Sean Bean.  And he’ll probably be smiling.

“Oh, hay there lads, got a ray gun I see?  Well, make it slow, if ya can.”

Wisconsin – Kettle Moraine Forest

We’re back, after an unexplained 13 week absence. During that time we had the pleasure of enduring work, more work, a visit with a self-described crypt-keeper-leprechaun, some more work, and we fought a dragon. Now we’re back to mindlessly telling stories and share the breadth of humanity’s experiences. Because it’s what we do. Side note: don’t ever fight a dragon. This was a bad choice.

Anyways, as part of their desire to endlessly prove their incompetence, I ended up in Milwaukee again for work a whole day early. Rather than tool around downtown again I decided to venture out away from the concrete. So I planned a hike through Kettle Moraine Forest, Lapham Peak Unit. It’s about a half hour drive west of Milwaukee via I-94.

I hiked the Moraine Ridge trail which they clock at 6.6 miles. I broke with my usual practice and didn’t carry any weight. I even left the boots aside and just used my running shoes. I was just too tired to get crazy with anything.

I saw something new in that all the trails are actually made for cross country skiing. In most places the paths are cut through the woods with a very wide diameter. It’s weird. Though they probably don’t have any choice for skiing.

When I was there it was still the end of winter, only the very barest of green saplings were beginning to appear.

The various trails constantly cross each other at multiple points.  Accordingly, the park unit labels each intersection and provides an updated map.  Beyond that they don’t really label the trails at all.  I had to check multiple times to ensure I didn’t take a wrong turn.  Even so, I did actually take the wrong way once and had to backtrack.

Dude is glad winter is ending.

There were many other folks on the trails, but I would not call them crowded.  Like a dummy I dropped my gloves and had to go back and get them at one point.  A couple put them where I could see them after finding them on the ground.  I passed them later and they were happy to see I’d found them.  I thanked them, though was a bit embarrassed.  I was a nice human moment.  I think they were Quebecois.

According to the trail marker, the Native Americans that used to inhabit the park grounds bent these trees on purpose as their own markers.  This one marked the way to a water source.  Here is another example.

Note the difference between the trees just emerging from winter, and the pine trees who laugh at winter.

I didn’t time myself, I stopped here and there.  Again, I was tired to begin with so it didn’t matter.  But I had a great time.  It was a good release from paperwork and all the stuff that doesn’t actually matter.  So nature did it’s job.  Hail nature.